[ Gamora's grip finally eases on him until she's simply cupping the nape of his neck, her other hand finding his forearm to rest lightly over his own. Her body is thrumming with warmth in the aftermath of her orgasm, an easy, breathless smile on her lips, and she turns her head to nose gently at his jaw, wherever she can reach.
She may not be one for verbal praise, but her entire posture is practically singing with how amazing that felt, how wonderful she still feels. But soft, almost mumbled, ]
... Perfect.
[ (She's not unaware of Peter still pressing against her back, but she's basking for a few extra moments.) ]
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She may not be one for verbal praise, but her entire posture is practically singing with how amazing that felt, how wonderful she still feels. But soft, almost mumbled, ]
... Perfect.
[ (She's not unaware of Peter still pressing against her back, but she's basking for a few extra moments.) ]