Gamora brushed her teeth as she prepared for bed. She made a mental note to threaten Drax in the morning if he let a single day more pass by without cleaning the communal bathroom as she spit out the toothpaste. It was his responsibility this week, and the bathroom was disgusting. Gamora straightened and tapped her toothbrush on the edge of the sink. She clasped a protectant shell over it - god knows what filth fills the air in this little bathroom - and placed it in her designated drawer.
Her eyes flicked up to the slightly smudged mirror. She gave a sigh, knowing full well Groot had been drawing faces and shapes on the steamed glass again. Rocket wasn't too keen on telling him no when it was his turn to help Groot with his bath. Gamora pulled out a cleaning cloth from under the sink and began wiping the mirror clean of smudges. Her eyes flickered over the silver grooves on her face in the now clear reflection. Her scars.
A wave of shame and anger rushed through her at once. Her left hand that sat on the sink counter was now gripping it tightly. The counter groaned in protest under her grip and she immediately let loose. A sigh escaped her lips as her head dropped. She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. She worked to push their reminder - what they stood for - to the back of her mind.
During her time with Thanos, she didn't really have time to dwell on her scars - to give them a second thought. Or even a first thought. No, her focus was solely on survival; always fighting to live to the next day. However, she had more time now than she's ever had in her life before. On the surface, that might seem great. Freeing, even. Her newly discovered freedom came with a catch, though, she's learned. There was more time to for her mind to wander to the dark places of her past. More time to truly mull over what she's become, what she's done. To actually seethe mutilations Thanos bestowed upon her in order to bend and manipulate her body into his most effective weapon. His favorite weapon, at that.
Gamora sneered at the thought of him. The sound of cloth tearing easily in her hands filled her ears before she was even aware of doing the action. She tossed the ripped cloth in the trash bin with a huff. Her eyes rolled at the sight of the near overflowing bin. She gave a silent thanks to the fact that Peter had his own bathroom in the captain's quarters - one less slob adding to the filth of this one.
Despite her annoyance with the lack of cleanliness of her teammates, her heart rate increased slightly at the thought of Peter. She pulled her hair out of its loose ponytail and emerged from the bathroom. She padded quietly down the short hall to her own room. After placing the elastic band atop the small night stand, she reached for the small black brush. Dragging the bristles through her long locks, she worked to smooth out any tangles.
Her thoughts drifted back to Peter, a small smile settling on her lips. She had admitted recently to him her acknowledgement of the Unspoken Thing between them. It was the most she could do at the time. The physical attraction had been evident nearly from the start, but she wasn't a fool. She knew better to not allow physical attraction to become a distraction. Not when she was trying to escape her life with Thanos.
But things were very different now than they were a couple months ago. She had that newfound freedom. The luxury of sharing a living space with others who didn't prey on her or exploit any possible weakness they could find, more than eager to kill her in her sleep. Now, she was beyond grateful to spend her days surrounded by her teammates. They aggravated her often, lacked simple cleaning discipline, and she always found herself having to be the one to put out fires - both, figurative and literal - but she would never give them up for anything.
Gamora never thought she would experience being in a family again after Thanos kidnapped her. She hardly remembers what it felt like to be a part of one; to be loved and supported and cared for. To mean something to another just because, not because you were a valued weapon. It was difficult for her to accept at first - to trust it. To trust them. But it has gotten easier. What has not gotten easier, though, is sorting through these... feelings that stir deep within her at the sight - or even the thought - of Peter. No, that has become more difficult with each passing day.
It was an internal struggle, whether or not to fully acknowledge these stirrings. At this point, feelings were beyond mere infatuation. This much she knew, though she didn't dare admit it out loud. It's far easier leaving it an unspoken thing - not talking about it, just doing.
Gamora's eyes slid shut at the thought of doing. She placed the small black brush back down on the stand. Since her acknowledgement of their Unspoken Thing, the dynamic between her and Peter shifted. An increase in stolen glances, subtle grazes of his fingers across her lower back or arm, affectionate smiles... stolen kisses when no one else was around. The kissing. God, could Peter kiss. Her face flushed with heat and her stomach fluttered.
She quietly groaned while racking a hand through her hair. She flopped backwards onto the bed, legs still dangling off. The last several nights she had found herself in the captain's quarters, the bold impulse becoming easier to make each time. She craved his lips against hers, his smell, that dopey smile he always gave her... How much longer could they continue this without discussing it? Peter would surely give in first, needing to vocalize the nature of what they were doing.
Her body ached to be touched and explored by his eager hands and tongue. His eagerness to bring her pleasure was unreal; she has never been treated with such consideration before. In just a few days time, Peter had discovered numerous pleasure spots, always striving to elicit the most wonderful mewls from her, just above the clavicle alone with that hot tongue of his. She shivered, her breathing a little heavy. Tonight would be no different. She would inevitably give in to her urges and desires, her body already sitting up from the bed, readying for the short trek to his room.
They still hadn't approached the territory of sex; she has yet to even fully remove her top in front of Peter, but the ache to do so was there. It's been so long since she was last with another physically; her brow furrowed at the thought. Undoubtedly, it would have been to get closer to a target or merely an unattached encounter to scratch an itch. But Peter was so much more than an itch to be scratched. Desire pooled hot between her legs at the thought of being intimate with him. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once.
Gamora pushed up from her mattress; it groaned softly at the shift in weight. She wasn't dressed in anything extravagant - just a deep blue tank and a pair of black sleeping pants, similar to her usual leather leggings but a soft cotton instead. She knew Peter wouldn't mind - he's claimed in the past that she could make a brown paper sack look good. She wasn't entirely sure what he had meant at the time, confused why he would be led to believe she would ever want to wear a sack for clothing. He chuckled, always entertained by her literal interpretations, and explained to her the figure of speech. "I'm say'n you can make anything look good- even those hideous yellow Kyln uniforms." She had rolled her eyes affectionately, a smile on her lips, keeping the need to blush at his compliment tucked beneath the surface.
She clicked off the light in her room and made her way to the captain's quarters. Giddiness bubbled in her abdomen with each step that brought her closer to his door. It was a bit late into the night cycle, but she was certain he would still be awake. This had become their new routine, her joining him in his bed once the ship fell silent, him always looking a mixture of relieved and unmistakably happy when she returned each night. She didn't knock - not anymore, quietly sliding the door to the side and slipping into his room.
Once the door was securely closed behind her, her eyes fell upon him immediately. Peter was stretched out on his bed, one arm back behind his head and the other settled on his stomach with his Zune in hand. His gaze was fixed on the skylight window above his bed, a soft glow coming down from it and lathing over him and the bed. She smiled, wondering idly what he was thinking about. He looked so at peace.
She approached his side of the bed, alerting him to her presence. He jumped slightly, eyes a bit wide, before he immediately was at ease again. He pulled the buds from his ears and set the Zune down on the side table.
He smiled warmly, "Hey."
She put a knee on the edge of the bed and swung her other leg to the other side, straddling him in one swift, graceful movement. "Hi."
His breath hitched at the quick contact, making a conscious effort not to melt into the bed right then and there. He still wasn't used to the glorious press of her body against his. Frankly, he hoped he would never fully grow accustomed to it, enjoying the jolt of nerves in his stomach the action always evoked. His hands immediately sprung up to her thighs and slowly traveled up to settle on the swell of her hips.
Gamora reached up and grasped the latch of the skylight shade - Peter's eyes flickered to the now exposed skin of her abdomen. He gently caressed his thumb across the smooth emerald skin. She swiftly pulled the skylight shade closed, snuffing the soft glow in the room, it now completely dark. Her enhanced vision adjusted quickly. Peter remained silent as she put them in complete darkness. He was well aware of the level of vulnerability that came along with the skylight illuminating them - illuminating her. Exposing every part of her body to him that she was not quite ready to share with him yet.
He would wait.
He was more than willing to oblige her needs of hiding in the shadows until she felt more comfortable. Besides, having the opportunity to explore her body solely through touch was nothing he could complain about, taking the time to sear every piece of her into his mind, letting his fingers explore new territory bit by bit, as her walls came down a little more with each passing night they spent in one another's company.
She dropped her hands down to his hips and slowly slid them up the ripples of his chest, bending down to capture his lips with hers. Peter's hands snaked around her back, one splayed across her spine, holding her as close to him as he could manage, moaning into the kiss, apparently needing the contact just as much as she did.
Her fingers carded through his sandy curls, lips dropping down to his jaw line, the heat in her belly growing by the second, pushing her further, eager as ever. She felt bolder this evening, her burn for him beginning to become unbearable. Heavy makeout sessions and curious exploration of hands, night after night, with no orgasmic release was becoming something short of painful. Peter rubbed gentle circles over her thin tank into her spine, opening his mouth to Gamora's explorations, her tongue warm and teeth sharp.
She grazed her nails across his scalp before tugging on a tuff of curls, angling his head back, as she shifted lower and nipped at the base of his neck. Peter groaned, hips jerking up reflexively in response. Gamora grinned smugly, pleased with how easily she could make his body jerkto attention for her.
The hand that laid splayed across her spine traveled upward, entangling itself in her hair - so silky and soft. He nuzzled his nose into the side of her hair, the smell of her making him dizzy. He brushed her hair to one side, immediately biting and sucking at the newly exposed skin of her neck. Gamora moaned, grinding her hips down hard against his in response; a guttural sound escaped from deep within his throat. It took everything within him to not mindlessly rut up against her, fearful he might actually come right then and there in his pants.
His fingers danced at the hem of her tank momentarily - new territory that had not been ventured yet, him wanting to move things slowly for her - before disappearing underneath it. Her skin was so smooth, so warm. He worked to store every inch of her body to memory. Gamora hummed at the new skin-on-skin contact, her lips pressed against his jawline. She pressed her body even closer to Peter's, desperately craving more of his warmth, his smell, his touch. Unbelievable, it was, that she had denied herself of this for so long - of the fire building in their bellies, desperate hands clinging to one another.
Peter's hands traveled further up her back, taking in every bit of her. His fingers lightly grazed up her spine, and she shuddered. Midway up her back, he felt grooves in her skin that followed up her spine to the nape of her neck. His fingers pressed curiously, exploring them-
Gamora tore her lips away from Peter and sat up abruptly. In the same second, she snatched his hands away from her body with a firm grasp.
"Don't," she warned.
"I- uh- sorry," Peter's mind was still clouded from her lips moving against his just seconds earlier. His mouth gaped slightly as he tried to collect his thoughts and process the abrupt change in her mood. "I'm sorry," his tone sincere.
Gamora released his hands and sighed heavily. He let his hands fall to the mattress, unsure if he should or could touch her. He searched her face for any indication of her offering an explanation of what just happened, his eyes having adjusted to the darkness at this point.
"Gamora... I'm sorry- I- were those more scars... from your mods?"
She gave him an icy look and recoiled from him further; well, as much as was possible while still straddling his hips. Peter took her reaction as a 'yes.'
"Mora- I didn't know, or I wouldn't have." His eyes were desperate for her to believe him, to know he wouldn't intentionally do anything to make her uncomfortable. He knew from past conversations that Gamora held a level of animosity towards the scars left on her face from Thanos, ashamed of what they symbolized. He hadn't even considered the possibility of there being more. More reminders etched into her body, permanently. A daily reminder of what she's done, of what he made her into.
His chest tightened with an ache for her. If only he could take all of that pain from her now; wrap her up in his arms forever and shield her from all the bad and hurt - make her see just how good she truly was. She sat silently and glared at the headboard above him. "Please don't be embarrassed or ashamed, Mora. You know I would never think any less of you, no matter how many scars you have. I couldn't. ...You don't have to hide from me."
He watched her face darken - this was difficult for her, he knew. Her internal conflict was evident. It was typical of Gamora to maintain a level of composure around the others, secrets and thoughts neatly hidden behind a neutral expression. With Peter, though, she was opening up more, allowing her emotions to show more freely. But now she was shutting him out again, and although he understood, it stung.
He struggled with what was best to do next, not wanting to further drive her away but not wanting to let her go either. Panic crawled up through his chest, worried they had just severely backpedaled on the progress they had been making with one another.
He reached a hand out, hesitating a moment to gage her reaction, then cupped the side of her face. So beautiful, how could she not see it? His thumb brushed one of the silver scars, her entire body tensed. She scrambled off him in a blur, planting both feet on the cool floor. Peter swung his legs over the edge of the bed into a sitting position just as quick, a hand outstretched to grasp her wrist.
"Gamora, please... Don't leave. Can we just- can we talk about this?" His voice laced with both desperation and panic.
"Let me go, Peter." Her eyes remained on the floor, unable to look at the defeated expression that was sure to occupy his face. Bringing him disappointment and distress was bound to happen, she knew. She wasn't good for him.
Peter was conflicted between obliging to her and holding on for dear life, not wanting to watch her walk out that door. His grip tightened a second before releasing her wrist. "Please stay. We can- let's talk about this. I- you're perfect as you are, I swear to god you are. You-"
She spun around, an underlying danger in her eyes. "Stop! I am not perfect." Her voice weakened, "I am nothing good for you, Peter."
His eyes widened, mouth agape, utterly stunned she could think such a thing. "Gamora, you are everything that's good." He reached a hand out, his voice barely above a whisper, "Please."
Gamora closed her eyes and shook her head solemnly. Without another word she slipped out of his room, the door softly clicking into place behind her. Peter dropped his head into his hands with a curse. Tears pricked the back of his eyes. The room suddenly felt empty and cold without her in it.
Gamora's face felt hot and her vision blurred with unwelcome tears. She closed her eyes while simultaneously slamming a fist down onto the mattress she was laying on. Her mattress. She hasn't slept in her own room in over a week. Already, in such a short amount of time, her own room was losing that sense of solace it once held. Part of her yearned to run back to Peter's bed, back into his arms, knowing full well he wouldn't hesitate to soothe her. This realization flared anger within her. She didn't need to be soothed by anyone. This was her fault. She indulged in her weakness that is Peter, knowing fully well she couldn't offer him what he needed. It was doomed from the start.
Gamora attempted to will herself to sleep, but her thoughts returned to Peter without fail, taunting her with what she couldn't have. A frustrated huff escaped her lips and she pushed herself out of bed. Quickly, she discarded her sleeping tank and pulled on a sports bra and one of her workout tops. Pent up sexual frustration on top of emotional turmoil and anger that simmered just beneath her skin had her wound tight. She needed to punch something, hard, and repeatedly. Swiftly, she made her way down to the workout space, hoping several rounds with the punching bag would work out her frustrations.
The following morning unfolded about how Peter expected it to. Gamora was a no-show at breakfast, and when they later ran into one another in the cargo bay, she avoided eye contact and quickly escaped down the hall, leaving him to stand there dejected. He wanted nothing more than to seek her out, hold her close, and tell her over and over how perfect and good she was. That everything would be ok, that they would be ok.
Peter sighed. As much as he wanted to do that, he'd wait; allow her to come to him in her own time.
Gamora hid out in her room for the rest of the day. Soon the ship switched into the night cycle and her room grew dark. She made no move to switch on the overhead light. Quiet darkness settled around her as she stared up at the ceiling. Countless nights were spent like this on a cold cement floor of a cell during her time aboard the Sanctuary. She didn't dare close her eyes then, unwilling to fall prey to the inevitable ambush of one of her 'siblings'. It was almost comical, the irony of the one place she felt the most unsafe in being called a sanctuary.
She'd never found true sanctuary in anything since the day she was kidnapped from her home.
Well, up until a couple months ago. Her eyes slid close. Peter. He'd become her sanctuary, where she could truly feel safe to be herself. The corners of her mouth curved into a frown and her brows furrowed a bit. Then why was it so hard to be vulnerable with him last night? To allow him to accept her and her scars? He clearly did already.
Vulnerability is weakness, little one. The weak never survive. Gamora flinched at how clear his voice echoed around her. She pressed the heel of her palms against her eyes, her face scrunched up tight, trying to force his voice out of her head.
How is it he still lingered within her? He's taken and taken and taken from her over the years. She has finally managed to escape from his hold, and yet he was still taking. Getting into her head, poisoning the potential happiness attempting to blossom in her life. Happiness she could have with Peter. Gamora opened her eyes and racked her fingers through her hair.
Happiness with Peter. Her chest tightened at the thought; she wanted it badly. Happiness, let alone with another person, was never a possibility she allowed herself to entertain. Thanos never allowed her or Nebula to believe they were capable of happiness and love, let alone being on the receiving end of them. As long as she continued to entertain this idea, he still had the power to take from her.
She sat up abruptly, a surge of nervous adrenaline coursing through her. Thanos wasn't through with her; she knew this much. He was bidding his time, and eventually he'd be back to take some more. She knew this - that her presence brought inevitable danger to those around her, the guardians, her family. They knew this, too, yet still chose to stand by her and face whatever was bound to come in the future. For now, though, she could take back control with her newfound freedom.
She had no idea where a future with Peter would lead or what it would even look like, but she'd never know if she didn't even try. Without a second thought, Gamora pushed herself off the bed and padded towards Peter's room before she had the chance to talk herself out of it. Arriving only moments later, she hesitated at the door, unsure if she should knock after the way she left things the night before. Her small hand formed a fist and softly rapped against the cool metal of the door.
There was some shuffling on the other side of the door before it slid open. Gamora twinged with guilt as she took in the sight of Peter. She pondered if he never ended up going to sleep the night before, the bags under his eyes darkened and his lids heavy and slightly red-rimmed. Nonetheless, a small smile touched his lips. Her heart skipped; he was too good. He stepped aside, allowing her entrance.
She quietly strode the few feet to his bed and climbed in, situating herself against the headboard, her legs stretched in front of her and her hands fidgeting in her lap. Peter silently crawled into bed next to her, leaning back against the headboard as well. They sat in silence for several minutes before Gamora finally spoke. "I'm sorry, Peter. I shouldn't have just fled... I-" she abruptly stopped, unsure of how to put into words the mess of thoughts and feelings roaring within her.
Peter rolled his head to the right towards her and spoke softly, "It's okay. You're here now." He hesitated, "... I'm sorry, too, ya know. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Promise. I- I never want you to feel uncomfortable with me."
Gamora looked up at him, "I know." He gave her a small smile and nod.
She took a deep breath and looked back at the wall in front of her. "My scars... they are a daily reminder of what Thanos has made me into. A reminder of the hundreds upon hundreds of innocent lives I was able to take so easily because of my cybernetic enhancements. I was made to be a weapon, Peter. A monster." She inhaled a shaky breath, "I don't understand how they could be viewed as anything other than disgusting, for they symbolize something so ugly and unfathomably horrible."
Peter placed his large hand over her fidgeting ones, curling his fingers around hers. "You are not a monster. You were forced into that life by that asshole. You were just trying to survive, Mora." He squeezed her hand with a gentle firmness. "You're not that person. You have so much good in your heart."
She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. His heart clenched at how fragile she looked. "Oh, Mora..." his voice shaky as he gathered her in his arms and pulled her close. She sunk into the comfort of his embrace and pressed her face into his chest, hot tears slipping down her cheeks and seeping into the cotton of his shirt.
Gamora would never forget the horrendous acts she committed in her past. She didn't want to. But maybe she could learn to see herself the way Peter sees her. Accept the notion that she is a good person. Finally begin to let go of the debilitating, self-deprecating beliefs Thanos had instilled into her mind for nearly two decades. Take back control of her own life, her own mind.
Gamora shifted in Peter's embrace until she was seated in his lap with her knees on either side of his hips. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly - he responded in kind. She found the pressure soothing. She whispered, "thank you," her voice muffled against his neck.
Peter rubbed soft circles into her back in attempt to comfort her. He pressed a kiss to her temple and then continued to just hold her. Silence fell around them, save for her soft sniffles here and there as her body worked to return to a calmed state. Finally allowing herself to be comforted by someone felt… nice. Peter's arms around her also felt nice. She burrowed herself further into him. A smile touched his lips and he tightened his hold on her.
"I don't deserve you, you know."
Peter's smile fell and his brows pulled together. He gently lifted her face and peered into those gorgeous, sad brown eyes of hers. "Oh, baby girl, I'm exactly what you deserve."
Gamora's chest and throat tightened once more with emotion that threatened to burst out of her. How had this ridiculously annoying, infuriating, sweet, and charming man find his way into her heart so easily?
Her small hands settled on either side of his face, gaze piercing through him, full of fire. "I truly hope you know that I haven't allowed us to be fully intimate not because I don't desire you… but because I'm scared- scared of exposing everything I try in vain to keep hidden, scared of my scars and past tainting your view of me."
Peter pulled her closer, if that were even possible, and kissed her hard, desperate for her to feel just how unaffected his desire and love for her was. His lips worked against hers hungrily as a hand carded through her hair. Nothing mattered more in that moment than to ensure she felt loved and worthy and beautiful. He would work to ensure she felt so every single day until his last breath.
This was it. She was it; the sun at the center of his universe.
Peter's tongue grazed the seam of her lips. She immediately granted him access, eager to have as much of him as she could. Hands explored and grasped with a growing urgency. Breaking the kiss momentarily, she ridded him of his shirt and then her lips were back on his once more, the drive to touch him anywhere and everywhere unbearably strong.
This wasn't enough. She needed more. Peter's muscles flexed under her touch as she ran her hands up his chest, the hair on his arms raising as she dragged them back down, the blunt edge of her nails leaving pink streaks in their wake. Peter sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit lightly. A moan sounded from the back of her throat, arousal shooting low between her thighs, her mind clouded with desire and her body feeling so light she's sure she would float away if it weren't for Peter's arms wrapped so tightly around her.
His hands inched down her waist and over her hips until they stretched over the curve of her ass. Without a thought, he impulsively gripped tightly and pressed her weight down while thrusting his hips up, connecting their centers. Oh, that glorious friction. Drawn out groans mingled in the air between their lips. She gave him a small smile then a gentle kiss before pulling back. Peter watched her while lazily rubbing his thumbs up and down her hipbones through the thin fabric of her sleep pants.
It's now or never, Gamora.
She inhaled deeply, holding it for a moment, then slowly exhaled. Gently scooting back a few inches, she sat further down on his thighs - his eyes followed her movements, curious and a little unsure. She offered a small smile of reassurance as she lifted a hand and lightly ran her fingers across his flushed cheek. They lingered on his skin for only a moment before her hand continued its journey above her head. A jolt of nerves rushed through her body as her fingers made contact with a small handle. She slowly slid the skylight shade open, soft starlight poured into the room.
Peter's chest tightened, awestruck and watching her. She was choosing to trust him in this moment, putting her heart and insecurities into his hands, baring her body to him. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes at this momentous gesture.
Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenalin causing her hands to tremble on their descent to the hem of her tank. Eyes closed, she drew in a long, slow breath, then slowly opened them again, exhaling as they met Peter's. She paused momentarily, offering him a shy smile, before lifting the tank up over her head and dropping it over the edge of the bed. Her chest rose and fell with each quick nervous breath she took - Peter's breath halted entirely.
Her body blazed afire wherever his gaze fell, roaming over the newly exposed skin. Shame and anxiousness began to slowly ebb. She had never been looked at like this in her life – so much adoration and love poured out of him for her just through his eyes. He was looking at her as if she had personally strung up the very stars into the night sky that were now glowing down on them. The building pressure in her chest threatened to burst as tears began to well in her eyes, her hands trembling with the onslaught of emotion she was unfamiliar with experiencing. Although perfect was far from anything she would consider herself being… something about the way he looked at her made her feel pretty damn close.
His eyes silently asked permission; she granted it with a nod. His thumbs, featherlight, skimmed underneath the curves of her breast. He smiled as her body shivered beneath his touch. She gently bit her bottom lip as his hands traveled downward, lightly tracing the silver scars engraved in the skin over her ribs. His fingers fell to a puckered scar on the left side of her lower abdomen - it lacked the surgical precision of her silver ones. Peter idly wondered how she might have gotten it before his attention was pulled back to the exploration of her body. Several other puckered and jagged scars littered her belly and sides - he took his time attending to each of them, attempting to draw out all the pain they held with a tender touch.
He embraced her, feathering kisses on her temple, her cheek, across her jawline, at the base of her neck, across her shoulder. She shuddered under his lips, arching into his touch. One hand found purchase on her hip, the other cupping her face, his thumb ghosting across her cheek. He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.
"You're so beautiful." He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes while he spoke, his voice filled with reverence. "Your scars are beautiful. Your heart is beautiful - your soul. Every part of you is beautiful, Gamora. You are everything good." The sincerity in his voice nearly wrecked her.
She felt so much in that moment. All the things she wanted to express to him bubbled on the tip of her tongue but wouldn't quite come out. So she kissed him - hard - hoping that everything she could not yet vocalize would be communicated through her physical affection. She felt the push of his body and succumbed to it, allowing him to lay her back onto the mattress, easing his weight on top of her. Gamora suppressed a moan at the feel of his body pressed so closely against hers.
Her hands rubbed up the muscles of his back as they rippled and flexed beneath her touch. Peter gave her a warm smile then dipped his head to capture her swollen lips once more, the kisses soft and languid. She drew a leg up along his side and hooked her foot behind his thigh, pulling him closer, his arousal brushing against her lower belly; he choked out a groan. Her body ached to be touched by him, but it was evident he was moving things slowly for her sake. She pushed up against the stiff bulge in his pants once more in attempt to relay her intentions.
"Peter… more." Her voice, low and rugged, was unfamiliar to her ears.
She tipped her head to the side as he kissed her jaw, her ear, down her neck, her breaths coming faster as his mouth found her breasts. She hummed appreciatively and arched into him when his mouth closed around her nipple. She carded her fingers through his curls and gripped. His hand cupped her other breast, running his thumb in circles as his tongue flicked and swirled in turn.
Gamora tugged gently on his hair, pulling his face back up to hers and locking their lips in a searing kiss. Her hands pushed at the waistband of his sleeping pants. Registering her intent, he kicked off the unwanted garment and settled back on his haunches, his evident arousal straining against his boxer briefs. Her eyes settled on the large bulge momentarily before she raised a tentative hand towards it. Peter gently caught her hand and lifted it, feathering kisses across her knuckles. "Not yet, baby. You first."
Her heart pounded as his eyes roamed her body, eventually settling on the waistband of her sleeping pants. She lifted her hips off the bed, signaling her permission. He hooked his fingers inside the waistband of both her pants and her panties and slid them slowly down her legs, agonizingly so. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, body brimming with anticipation as his eyes swept across the expanse of her taut skin and toned muscle now visible to him. He shook his head softly, searing every inch of her into his mind. "Gorgeous."
She scoffed and rolled her eyes bashfully, unsure of how else to respond.
He gave her a knowing smirk before leaning down to kiss her. He shifted and trailed open mouth kisses down her neck, between her breasts, across her stomach, tongue dipping in her navel, teeth grazing her hipbone. Her scent and the sound of her moans and whimpers were intoxicating, maddening.
Peter looked up at her through hooded eyes, his voice low, "Can I touch you?"
She nodded, not trusting her voice. The ability to form any coherent thoughts quickly dissipated as his fingers ghosted up the inside of her thigh. Her body was hot and tingly, filled to the brim with anticipation for his touch. His thumb grazed up and down the inner crease of her thigh - she whimpered beneath his touch. It was too much and not enough all at once.
Gamora gasped as he glided a finger through her wet folds, then a second. She was warm and slick against his fingers; he moaned, his desire for her only intensifying. She arched against him in response, head thrown back against the mattress, her breaths quick and uneven. Peter gently rubbed light circles while enjoying the sounds emanating from her lips. He slipped a finger into her, then a second - her moans growing louder. After a few thrusts of his fingers, his tongue found her clit and her hips jerked upward. Hot pleasure pulsed in her core as her body writhed beneath his ministrations. This feeling was unlike anything she's ever felt before.
Gamora moved against his hand and mouth, chasing after the building pressure in her lower abdomen. She squeezed her eyes shut, sheets fisted in one hand and a handful of Peter's curls in the other. Her body arched and her moan choked off into a higher pitched cry towards the ceiling as his fingers flexed upward and hit just the right spot.
"God, yes- right there," she panted, "right there… Peter…"
White hot pleasure exploded throughout her body. Peter continued to pump into her as her walls clenched around him, letting her ride out her orgasm. Her fingers were woven through his hair, holding his mouth against her maybe a little too tight, but he didn't show any sign of discomfort and she couldn't bring herself to let him go just yet.
The waves of pleasure slowly pulsed through her limbs, leaving her to feel limp, her hand finally falling away from his head. Her eyes slowly opened and refocused on Peter as he sat back on his haunches and sucked her juices from his fingers. That sight alone sent another jolt of arousal straight through her. He leaned over her and kissed her tenderly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She could taste herself on his tongue, and she liked it.
The weight of his body over hers was absolute bliss. Her slender fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and tugged at them - she wanted to feel all of him against her. He pulled back momentarily to kick off the last item to separate them.
Freed and pressing between her legs, Peter leaned down over her, kissing her deeply once again. Sliding one arm behind her shoulders and the other around her waist, he lifted her up from the bed and held her close as he shifted back to rest against the pillows and headboard.
Gamora melted into him, holding his body close to hers, never breaking their kiss. Now seated astride his hips, she felt his hard erection pressed against her lower belly, hot and swollen, trapped between their bodies. Her fingers worked into his hair - nails scrapping at the nape of his neck in a way she's learned he loves - while the other hand traveled down and wrapped around him. She swallowed his groan as his body trembled slightly and bucked into her hand.
Her head lolled back and to the side, breaking their kiss, as his large hands smoothed over the curve of her ass and began a slow, wicked caress of her skin. His lips trailed down her neck, tasting and teasing, encouraging her to let her emotions free as she gasped and moaned.
"Peter, please..."
Anything. He would do absolutely anything for her; give her anything. His hands glided down her thighs and then back up, settling lightly on her hips as she rose onto her knees. Gently, he guided her back by her hips but didn't apply any pressure – only a thumb traced lightly across a scar just above her hipbone, giving her full control. She steadied herself with one hand on his shoulder while the other guided him towards her entrance, both of them humming in unison as his tip slid against her hot, wet folds.
This was exactly what she wanted. No, needed; to feel him inside her, filling her, moving in her. She eased down on him until he was sheathed completely in her. Peter held her in place for a moment, a whimper escaping from his lips. He pressed an open mouth kiss to her shoulder then murmured against her skin, "You're perfect, Mora." He pressed a kiss against her temple. "So perfect."
Her fingers threaded through his curls and guided his lips towards hers as she lifted her hips and slid back down again. Never has she felt so full, so completed in her life. Nothing outside of this moment existed. Their bodies moved together in tandem - perfectly, feeling so right - as if they were solely made for this, for each other.
Gasps and moans and whispers of sweet nothings filled the room. She was so close. Her vision blurred and the pressure in her abdomen coiled tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.
His arm tightened around her waist, holding her in place, and thrusted up into her heat hard, no trace of decorum left between them. His fingers dug into her skin, only making her ache for him more. He slammed into her again. His breath hitched and a drawn out groan sounded from his lips as her walls began to tighten around him.
Her vision went white and hot pleasure rolled through her in waves. Peter's eyes remained glued on her face, soaking her up as she came undone; to miss even a second of it was unacceptable. He watched her with an appreciation that bordered being religious.
Her hips rocked against his, riding out the final pulses of pleasure stemming from her belly to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her skin glistened with perspiration and a dazed smile was on her lips as she began to come down from her high, her eyes refocusing on his.
He leaned forward and kissed her then nipped at her earlobe before whispering, "You're gorgeous when you come." Her cheeks flushed at his words and her skin pricked from his hot breath against her ear.
His breath hitched as she shifted on his lap and gripped him inside her; her smile turned smug. Their lips met passionately and a little painfully, but the sting of teeth was quickly drowned out by the pleasure as their bodies moved together once more. The arm around her waist pulled her impossibly close, her nipples hardened and pressed against his chest, while his other hand tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck.
With his feet flat against the bed, he thrusted up into her hard and fast while slamming her hips down simultaneously, his fingers digging into her skin a bit harshly. She whimpered into his mouth, overly sensitive and nerves fried. Yet her body responded to his as the ache between her legs grew and the heat in the pit of her belly flared.
"Peter... oh god..."
Peter squeezed his eyes shut and nuzzled her hair against her neck. "Mora... fuck-"
His hips stuttered against her and then she could feel it as he came undone, throbbing deep inside her, the warm flood of his release filling her. Her voice echoed throughout the room as her head fell back and her vision went white once more, unable to care in that moment whether or not the others could hear them.
Gamora collapsed against his chest, feeling boneless and relaxed, their bodies sweaty and hot. She buried her face in the curve of his neck and pressed a light kiss to his damp skin. He held her and murmured sweet nothings in her hear, so content and happy to have this incredible woman in his arms.
The light drag of his fingers tracing up and down the scars along her spine and the now steady rhythm of his heart nearly lulled her to sleep. It was peaceful being with Peter like this. He made her feel safe. Loved. She reveled in the calm and comfort his touches brought, no longer wanting to recoil and hide from them.
Peter held her just a moment longer before slipping out of her and shuffling down the bed to lay on his back. His arm securely wrapped around her, Gamora shifted with him and curled into his chest, one leg draped between his. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and breathed in the soft scent of her hair.
"Thank you." Her voice, barely above a whisper, cut through the silence of the room.
He dipped his head in attempt to better see her face. "What for?"
She pressed a soft kiss to his chest before leaning back a little to meet his jade eyes. She lifted her right hand and gently ghosted her fingers along his jaw. Her smile was soft and her eyes began to prick with tears from the emotions welling up in her chest; she swallowed down the lump forming in her throat. "Just... for everything."
She was quiet a moment, lost in her own thoughts. "You make me feel like I'm enough- me, Gamora. Not me, deadly assassin- j-just some favorite toy or weapon. And I-" her voice cracked. She ducked her head while blinking back tears.
Peter rubbed soothing circles into her back and gingerly lifted her face back up to his, his other hand on her cheek. He kissed her with fervor, pushing her back against the bed so his large body hovered over her small frame. He peppered her with kisses - on her cheeks, temple, forehead, eyelids, the tip of her nose; an involuntary smile stretch across her lips. Happiness buzzed through her like electricity as her arms wrapped around his neck and back to hold him close. She'd never be in need of anything ever again as long as he was in her arms, and she in his.
His jade eyes bored into her dark ones. There was that look again - the look as if she had personally strung up the very stars twinkling above them, gracing the galaxy with starlight. His thumb brushed across her cheekbone.
"I love you, Mora," his voice reverent, "so damn much."
A whirlwind of emotions flooded her in an onslaught. Mantis had, as Peter would say, spilled the beans already. But hearing the words come from him directly, his voice raw with emotion, made her want to melt into the mattress and kiss him senselessly. A slight tinge if underlying fear was there - she couldn't deny it. Fear to have something this good in her life, knowing how much greater the risk in losing it was... to have it taken.
Above all, though, warmth and adoration and her own love for him overpowered everything else. Yes, she loved him... for a while now, she thought. This could be her life now - a happy one shared with Peter; one filled with love and kindness and trust. She wanted to take that step, bringing her a little closer to what she once thought completely unattainable and away from a life where the only things she knew were pain, fear, rage, obedience, manipulation...
Her gaze met his with an intensity, willing him to understand just how important this moment was to her, how much trust she was putting in him to hand over her battered heart for him to keep and protect.
"I love you, too... more than anything," her voice soft but firm and sure.
His face lit up with an arresting grin that sent chills down her spine. He lowered his lips to hers, giving her everything he had.
She was his, and he was hers.