DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from Guardians of the Galaxy, either in its movie or comic incarnation. I own any OC I can invent, though. I am not making a £ out of this. It is just for shits and giggles.
Hi folks, the bad news is that is the second to last chapter I have ready, so you will probably have to prepare for a hiatus.
The neutral news is that I have the story outline all written down, and hopefully watching Civil War will reset my mind on the MCU at least for a while.
The good news is that this little monster clocks about 9000 words and it's almost entirely made of smut! I hope you will enjoy.
Warnings: M/M/F, M/M, M/F, oral, anal, BDSM, sub/dom, drug use (kind of). This one has a bit of everything. XD
Enjoy, and please don't shout at me!
"If we have even one more briefing or meeting in the next few days, I am going to puke." Peter laments, flopping on the bed of the spartan room they have been assigned. At least the bed is big enough for the three of them to fit and even move a bit, and the insulation seems good. Hardly a noise has made itself heard after they closed the door. It is definitely a boon.
"I think it's over for now, thank the Ever-Maiden. - Gamora comments, kicking her boots away and stretching - Our diplomats will have quite the meeting schedule for a while more, but at least we are supposed to start doing something useful from tomorrow." she adds with evident relief.
There is only so much re-hashing of the same issues she can stand before her brain cells start dying of boredom.
The born politicians of the team, instead, seem used to that sort of tour de force. Helenai, Saskia, Gladiator and even J'reth have dug in and patiently explained the situation over and over again to different Terran political personalities during the course of the day. Helenai seems quite optimistic about the outcome of the preliminary talks, but she is also certain that things will drag along for quite a while before everything is settled.
Speaking of what, Ronan and Rocket are still busy with helping the Shields set up a proper video-conference rig for the next day's talks with the Council.
Gamora would even sit through another talk just to see Nova Prime and High Priestess Derdriyu run metaphoric circles around Fury and his cohorts, but, alas, there is work to do, occurrences to investigate, battle plans to prepare, new comrades to win the trust of...
It would be a bit overwhelming in itself, even if they didn't also have to make sure that no one caused a diplomatic accident.
For once Rocket seems peaceful enough, and happy to tinker away with the two SHIELD scientists, but, after Fury's powerplay about Loki, Nebula is still quite upset and angry.
She has lost an arm and a leg, literally, to Everyman's fascination with her flexible bones and Thanos' obsession with making the two of them pay in flesh and blood for their failures, but at least, being a girl and therefore of no interest to Everyman, she has been spared rape, while Loki apparently has received the full treatment.
Nebula found him by happenstance after the debacle of the Power Gem, while looking for someone to help her get her revenge on Thanos, and somehow his plight called to whatever kindness and empathy was still left in her after all the Mad Titan had done to wipe it out.
She helped him keep himself together during the whole Odin impersonation stunt, and helped him accept, at least partially, his nature and heritage, while he helped her acknowledge her losses and express her grief, and reconstruct her self-worth as something other than a tool for Thanos to use. They were probably the only thing that kept the other alive and sane through that time.
Only Nebula truly knows how close Loki was to snapping completely, and how much pain is hidden under that calm mask of his. She knows the full story, she has lived through a similar one, as Gamora herself and Ronan have to a certain extent, and it has pained and angered her in equal measure to see Loki treated like that by the Terrans, to see them doubt him, and question him, and force him to be a victim all over again.
It has been painful to watch even for the rest of them, and unnecessary, because Fury could have damn well waited for the paperwork. It has soured Gamora's mood considerably, to say the least.
Thankfully not all the Terrans have proven to be so stubborn and insensitive as Director Fury.
Vision and Wanda have shown great kindness and understanding towards Loki, and the two of them and Thor have done their best to make him feel less unwelcome and isolated. Coulson's grudging acceptance too must have meant a lot for the Jothunn.
By dinnertime at least he didn't look like he was ready to jump off the Bifrost all over again.
Things will get better with time, Gamora tells herself, but in the meantime they will have to look out for Loki and Nebula even more than they usually do.
Having a family is as complicated as it is rewarding, she muses as she too flops on the bed next to Peter.
Back then, in the days of her bondage to Thanos, she didn't have to worry about anyone but herself. She had been totally self-reliant and independent, and utterly isolated from the rest of the living, sentient beings of the Universe.
She had though that it made her strong, because that was what Thanos had trained her to think, but it was a misconception.
Selfishness is easy and cheap, a coward's way of avoiding the duty that each individual has to their kin. It is a hollow, brittle kind of strength, an illusion of control, a wilful mutilation of the self.
Kinship and kindness require trust, instead. They require a person to be wise and brave enough to open themselves up to another, to give as well as to take. Therein lies true strength.
She would have never known any of this if not for Peter, Ronan and the Guardians, and now her family has expanded into some sort of messy tribe, and it seems that her heart has slowly expanded with it. She knows it makes a tempting target, but she cannot help herself. She needs them, and she knows they need her, and it makes her feel good, important and loved.
"So many stormy thoughts in your lovely head..." Peter croons, trying to smooth the frown away from her brow with a caress.
"Do you want to talk about them?" he asks, enveloping her in his arms.
Gamora snuggles against him, sticking her nose in his neck. Even after a hard day, he still smells good enough to eat.
"The sum total of them is that I love you and Ronan, and I like to have a family." she reveals, kissing his neck
"And that is a bad thing because...?" Peter asks, half joking, half genuinely worried.
"It is not a bad thing." Gamora replies, raking her nails lightly up and down the back of his neck. Peter shivers and closes his eyes with a sigh of contentment, all worries forgotten for the time being.
"It is the most wonderful thing that happened to me. Sometimes I still struggle to believe it is true, that is all." she adds, kissing him on the lips.
"In that case, let me refresh your memory." Peter retorts, rolling on top of her, and kissing her back, nice and slow and deep.
Gamora can feel his erection dig into her tigh through his clothes.
"Someone's all worked up already..." she teases, grinding herself against him with a playful smile.
"After a week in the Milano, with that tiny bed and those paper-thin walls, yes. - he replies, grinding back - I am not very good at looking without touching." he admits.
Gamora grins and twists her hips, rolling on top of him.
"I'll keep this in mind, for the next time you feel like being topped." she says, rolling her hips over his.
Peter jerks his hips in pleasure and grins back.
"You know I don't mind looking, if it's you and Ronan I am looking at." he retorts.
"So are you up for it?" Gamora asks, slowing her movements to the barest teasing undulation.
It took her a while to realise that she wanted her partners to top her, and a while more to feel safe enough to let herself go, so she appreciates the amount of trust Peter is showing them in allowing her, and ideally Ronan, to top him in bed.
"I won't say it is not tempting... But I was rather hoping that we would top Ronan together, tonight. - Peter retorts - Tell me you were not thinking about it too."
"I was. Ever since we arrived on Terra this morning, to be honest. - Gamora admits - I was worried to begin with, but when he said he was just high... I must admit I was... tempted." she whispers in his ear.
"I only realised tonight at dinner. - Peter confesses - He was concentrating so hard on that fish and chips that it looked like he was doing a meditation exercise, instead of eating, so I asked what was wrong." he explains.
"And did he tell you?" Gamora asks with a harder roll of her hips.
Peter hisses and nods.
"He said he was all horny and out of control, that he had been since arriving here, because of the air. - he reveals - He said he couldn't wait for us to do something about it... I told him we would." he adds.
Gamora groans and closes her eyes, feeling a shiver of anticipation course through her. Of course her boyfriend profits from her moment of distraction to roll back on top of her with a wide grin.
"It would be cruel to deny him, don't you think?" he teases.
"Far too cruel." she agrees.
"We have a plan, then?" Peter asks.
"I think we do." Gamora confirms with a smirk.
Ronan comes through the door about half an hour later, walking quietly and almost shyly into the room.
The lights are dimmed, and a vial of oil and a few other things have been laid out on the bedside table.
Gamora and Peter are sitting on the bed, waiting for him.
They are still fully dressed and have done their best to look like they are calm and fully in control, even though this is not strictly true. They have been waiting for him for a while, thinking of all the nice, pleasurable things they can do to him, and Gamora feels like she is going crazy with anticipation.
Ronan stops in his tracks in front of the bed. His respirator mask is still in place, but Gamora can see that his face is already flushed with desire and his eyes shine with anticipation.
"I am sorry I kept you waiting." he says quietly, but doesn't move.
"Then come here, bluebell. Don't make us wait more." Peter encourages him, patting a hand on the mattress between himself and Gamora.
Ronan nods in acquiescence, then closes the distance between him and the bed in a couple of strides. He doesn't sit on the bed with them, though, but kneels on the ground between them. His hands move to the fastenings of the mask, to take it off, but Gamora raises from the bed and takes hold of one of his wrists, stopping him in his tracks.
"Not yet, my love. - she chides - We need to know what is that you want before you are too inhebriated to know it yourself." she adds gently.
"I want you. I have been fighting to control myself ever since we landed this morning, and it has become harder and harder with every breath of Terran air I took. - he rasps, looking at her with raw, naked desire - I don't want to fight anymore. I want to surrender to you." he whispers.
Gamora feels a shiver go through her at his words, and Peter actually whimpers. So much for looking like they are in control, she thinks. They have barely started and her heart is already pounding with desire.
"Same conditions as last time, right? No bondage and no bloodplay?" Peter asks.
Ronan nods.
"Don't think we are going to go easy on you, though, bluebell. - Peter warns - There are still a lot of things we can do to make you feel so good you'll be begging for mercy... Would you like that?" he adds with a predatory smile.
Ronan nods again almost frantically.
"I do, meryw-i... please..." he whimpers.
"Then this has to go." Peter declares, undoing the clasp on Ronan's mask and gently pulling it off their lover's handsome face. He lays it on the bed and leans back, and they watch intently as the Kree's pupils go wide and his gaze becomes even more hazy and unfocused with lust. It is beautiful.
"It's already affecting you, is it not?" Gamora purrs. She pushes his hood down and traces her fingertips over his scalp. Ronan gasps and arches back, eyes squeezed shut.
"It is! - he exclaims - Oh, Pama! It feels..." he starts to say, but Gamora's fingers trace another path down his scars and his words devolve into whimpers.
"So excess oxygen doesn't just make you horny... It also gives you hyperaesthesia..." Peter comments with satisfaction. His fingers join Gamora's and glide over the Kree's exposed skin, blazing new trails of pleasure.
"I am afraid it does..." Ronan manages to say, failing to repress a shiver. His cheeks are flushed dark blue with arousal and his voice is already hoarse.
Gamora exchanges a long glance with Peter. They don't need words to formulate a new plan.
"This is definitely something we can work with..." she says at the end. They were thinking more about some old-fashioned slap-and-tickle, but it seems that plain tickling will work just as fine, or even better.
She nods to herself and deftly unzips her lover's hoodie, sliding it off his shoulders.
She likes the idea of watching him lose himself to pure pleasure, uncontaminated by pain.
The hoodie hits the floor. Peter helps her make short work of the buttons of his shirt, and then it too is discarded on the ground, leaving Ronan naked from the waist up.
Burn scars pattern his chest and abdomen, still dark, but no longer painful. In a few months they will be gone, leaving his skin the same pristine blue as before, but they are still tender and sensitive even in normal circumnstances.
Gamora picks one that curls along his ribs and almost reaches his nipple, and traces it with gentle fingers, drinking in the soft sounds that escape from his parted lips and in the play of twitching muscles under his skin.
Peter follows her suit, exploring his body with a gentle, chaste touch, enjoying its smooth coolness and its barely contained strength.
Ronan is breathing hard already, his hands are clenched tight at his sides and shake minutely with the effort of keeping still, his manhood is hard and twitching, and strains against the fabric of his trousers.
He is undeniably beautiful like that, and though Gamora knows that she should prolong the wait and the anticipation, she cannot resist the pull of her own desire. She slides off the bed and kneels on the ground next to him. Their lips meet in a hard, hungry kiss, and he moans against her mouth, overcome by the intensity of the feeling.
What sweet sounds he makes! They only become sweeter when she moves away from his kiss-swollen lips and trails her mouth down his chin and neck, and then across his broad shoulders.
"Your scars... are you alright with me kissing them?" she manages to ask, nearly panting with arousal herself.
"Yes! - Ronan moans, arching once more - Please, merit! I'd love for you to do it..." he adds.
Gamora lowers her head towards his chest and places a tentative, gentle kiss on one of the patches of dark, ropy flesh. His right hand twitches, as if he wanted to touch her or hold her down, but didn't quite dare. She takes his hand in hers and guides it to the back of her head.
"It's alright." she says, briefly looking up at his face before bending again to her task.
Ronan whispers something under his breath, and threads his fingers into her hair, holding her against him with a gentle, firm grip as she kisses and licks her way down, following the patterns of pain that Everyman has etched onto him and reconsecrating them to pleasure.
Peter is doing the same on the other side of his chest, and Ronan is starting to have trouble keeping still under the double onslaught. His back arches and his hips buck more and more desperately as they work their way lower and lower down his torso, and by the time Peter undoes the top button of his fly to reach the end of a particularly wicked mark, Ronan is trembling and gasping without restrain, and nearly lying in a heap on the floor.
"Gods, bluebell... - Peter groans - I love how sensitive you are tonight... It feels like we could make you come without even touching you there..." he whispers, inching his hand closer to the Kree's twitching manhood.
It takes him a few gasping tries, but somehow Ronan manages to reply.
"It's... it's possible." he gasps, trying to buck his hips against Peter's touch.
"Uhmm... We must be doing something wrong, if you're still able to string a sentence together... - the Terran comments, taking his hand well away from where Ronan would like it - What do you think, Gamora?"
"I think you're right. We can do better. - she replies, pinning Ronan down with a heavy gaze - We should move to the bed, to begin with." she proposes.
Both Peter and Ronan nod, and they end up guiding the Kree to sit on the edge of the bed.
"What now?" Peter asks, letting her take the lead.
"These need off." Gamora replies, pointing at his half-undone trousers.
They take their time.
His boots go first, allowing them to lavish their attention on his feet, and Gamora absolutely loves how his face contorts into a grimace of agonised pleasure and how he struggles to be still as they ordered him.
"Does it tickle?" she asks.
"No... - he pants - It's... it's good..."
Gamora makes a pleased sound low in her throat and rakes her fingernails over the soft skin of his instep.
This earns her a startled sound, halfway between a gasp and a shout, and makes him buck ever harder.
"And this?" she asks, trying to sound casual.
This time he only manages to shake his head, trembling all over. It seems like they are on the right track now.
She does it again, and again, and Peter helps her torment him, and more gasp-shouts pour from his lips, and then whimpers. Ronan holds the edge of the mattress with a white-knuckled grip, eyes screwed shut, mouth slack.
"Do you want more?" she asks. The only answer is an incoherent string of pleas and curses in High Kree. She decides to take it as a yes.
Gamora feels her own desire pulse between her legs as she picks herself up from the ground and pushes him to lie down on the bed.
Peter undoes the remaining buttons of his fly with deft, if slightly shaking fingers. As usual, Ronan has not bothered with underwear, and his manhood springs free, fully erect and flushed with blood. Even though he tries again to buck into Peter's touch, the Terran is still determined to deprive him of that kind of stimulation, for now, and steers his fingers clear from his straining cock.
Working together, Peter and Ganora pulls the trousers slowly down the Kree's legs, teasing every inch of blue skin they uncover with fingers, lips and tongue. It is a slow, leisurely exploration, and Gamora allows herself plenty of time to savour every feeling. She traces the hard muscles in his tighs and calves, and wonders at the sharp, almost elegant shape of the bones in his ankles, and at the softness of the skin in the hollow of his knees.
Ronan spreads his legs for them, silently begging for even more, and
little by little, they allow themselves to inch closer to the target, mouthing at his inner tighs and teasing the underside of his buttocks, but without actually touching him where he wants them to.
Gamora is aching to touch him, to hold his heavy balls in her hand, to stroke his leaking cock, and kiss him to completion, but she bides her time. She wants more from him before she can do that.
Their breath ghosts over his heated, sensitized flesh, their hands tease and retreat. Ronan strains, tossing his head on the bed and balling his hands on the sheets. A fine sheen of sweat has broken out on his skin, and Gamora leans over to lick it off his chest, then on the spur of the moment breaks their unspoken rule of not touching any of his favourite bits, and takes one of his nipples in her mouth, sucking the saltiness from it.
Ronan makes a soft keening noise of raw need, and all of a sudden his resistance breaks.
"Please, meryw... please!" he begs, writhing helplessly on the bed.
"Please what?" Peter rasps, nearly out of control himself.
"Touch me!" Ronan manages.
"Touch you where? - Peter insists - Your arm? Your leg?" he asks, moving one of his hands accordingly, while the other keeps teasing him mercilessly.
The Kree shakes his head in desperation.
"Your dick?" the Terran asks finally, wrapping his hand around the twitching, jerking organ and squeezing it firmly.
Ronan lets out a wail of tormented pleasure and tries to buck into his hand, but Peter presses a hand on his hips and orders him to stay still.
"Is this what you want?" he asks, giving him another, much milder squeeze.
The Kree nods frantically. "Yes! Yes! Please, meri! More!" he gasps
Peter obliges him. His cock is already leaking, and pulsates in time with his wild heartbeat. He is very close.
"Do you want to come? Do you want us to make you?" Gamora asks, retaking the lead.
"Please!" Ronan begs.
"If you surrender now, like this, you will have to make it up for us later, do you realise it? Do you still want it?" she insists.
"Yes, yes! I... I need... - he groans - Can't... can't resist."
She exchanges a quick glance with Peter, torn between wanting to watch him stroke their lover to completion, and wanting to bring him to extasy herself.
Peter gives her a pleading look and lets go of Ronan's cock. It seems like the decision is out of her hands.
Gamora replaces his hand with hers, and bends her head to lick a drop of clear fluid off the tip.
"Hold his hands down" she tells Peter. She actually likes to have his hands in her hair, but at the moment this is not about what she likes, but about the illusion of control. They have it, and he doesn't. It seems to suit Ronan just fine.
Peter blocks Ronan's arms above his head and turns to her with an expectant, needy look. Gamora smirks and gives Ronan's cock another lazy lick, looking at him while she does it. Twin groans escape from her lovers. She has them both in her power, and it feels amazing.
"You will scream for me." she tells Ronan, knowing that he will regardless of what she says. It's still about the illusion of control.
The Kree tries to verbalise his agreement, but she finally takes him in her mouth, and any words he might have meant to say die on his lips, only to be replaced by wordless noises of pleasure.
Gamora sets a fast, demanding pace, fucking him hard with her mouth, while he writhes helplessly under her. A few pulls are all it takes, and he tenses up, mouth open in a hoarse, breathless scream as he spends himself with hard, convulsive jerks of his hips. Gamora takes it all, until he can give her no more, and finally releases his softening cock with a last loving lick.
She looks up, licking her lips.
Ronan is almost KO with the intensity of his peak, his eyes are half-closed and he is gasping to catch his breath. She will have to wait at least a bit before she can torment him again, but Peter on the other hand... he is looking at her with unrestrained arousal, and she can tell that he too wants to lose control, tonight. He is ripe for the taking, and Gamora finds herself wanting to seize that opportunity.
"Rest now, my love... - she whispers to Ronan, making a show of giving him a languorous, sloppy kiss - I will look after Peter for a bit, while you get your strength back." she adds, casting the Terran a calculated glance.
Peter looks at her like a rabbit caught in hypnotic gaze of a snake.
She crawls on the bed towards him, making up her plan as she goes.
"Get off the bed." she orders, trying to keep her voice sharp and decisive.
Peter backs off the edge and stands, tense with anticipation.
"Your clothes. Take them off." she continues.
Her lover obeys, stripping as quickly as he can and letting his clothes fall to the floor. Gamora lets him, she has a few ideas to make him appreciate the pleasure of taking things slowly.
Soon he is standing naked before her, amd she takes a moment to swipe a slow gaze all over his body, taking in every detail of his athletic form. He is beautiful, with his pink-tan skin flushed with arousal, and the soft burnished golden curls that litter his chest and trail down to form a thicket around his bobbing, erect cock.
"You have become hard like this just from seeing him come?" she asks, trailing a finger over it.
"And from watching you make him..." Peter replies hoarsely.
"Do you want me to make you come too?" she continues, encircling it with her hand and giving it a gentle stroke.
Peter makes a low, throaty sound and nods.
"Yes, please." he replies, like the good boy he can be when he wants to.
"Very well. I will. - Gamora replies - I am not going to make it easy for you, though. There are going to be rules." she warns, stroking him all the while.
"OK. Tell me." Peter encourages her.
"You are not allowed to touch yourself unless I say so. - she enumerates, taking hold of his balls with her free hand - You are also not allowed to come until I say so." she adds.
"W-whatever you say." he stammers, eyes wide and wild.
Gamora leans towards the bedside table and picks up one of the red silken ribbons she has placed there just in case.
"And, finally, you're going to wear this to make sure that you don't. - she adds, touching the ribbon to his manhood - Are you alright with these terms?" she asks.
Peter shivers in a mixture of anticipation and extreme arousal. His cock jumps in her hand.
"I am." he replies.
Gamora expertly ties the ribbon around the base of his cock, then loops it around each of his balls individually, forcing them away from the base of his cock and from each other. She works carefully, making sure that the ribbon is tied snugly enough to be effective, but not too tight to actually hurt him. The final result is quite enticing. His cock stands even prouder, and his whole body trembles from the feeling of being trapped and owned.
"How does it feel? Does it hurt?" she asks.
"No... - he replies hoarsely - It feels like I'm going to burst." he confesses.
"You are not, at least for a while, I can guarantee you. - Gamora retorts, fondling him gently but mercilessly - On you knees, now." she orders.
Peter obeys, carefully sinking to the floor in front of her.
When she had decided to wear her skirt for the landing that morning she wasn't really thinking about any of this, but now she is glad that she has, because it plays so well into her hands, allowing her to display her control over the scene.
She sits on the edge of the bed and slides her hands under her skirt, taking her sensible, comfortable cotton panties off while Peter watches her, totally entranced, then throws them away, aiming towards her luggage, and spreads her legs, resting her feet on the edge of the bedframe and gripping the edge of the mattress for support.
"Do you want me to...?" Peter rasps, licking his lips in anticipation.
Gamora nods firmly.
"Yes, beloved. I do." she confirms.
She grabs hold of his hair and gently guides him to bend his head between her legs. Even if her hold is mostly symbolic, he doesn't even try to resist: he is as eager as she is, maybe more, and bends to his task without complaint.
Gamora can feel his warm breath on her wet folds, she represses a shiver and tries to steel herself for what is to come. She needs to stay in control of herself, if she is to control her two lovers, she cannot let go and allow herself to peak before she is finished with the two of them, she reminds herself.
It is easier said than done, though, especially because Peter is a big fan of oral sex, and knows her and her reactions almost as much as he knows himself. His clever mouth lavishes its attention on all the right spots, licking, sucking, nibbling even, and it sends ripples of pleasure all over her, making her breath hitch, her legs tremble and her core nearly drip with wetness.
He sucks on her clit and her back arches. She bites her lips to prevent herself from moaning out loud and presses his head down even harder, unwilling to let him see how much it is affecting her. It only makes Peter moan against her flesh, and try all the harder to please her, though. He enjoys the fact that she is enjoying it.
Gamora grits her teeth and forces herself to endure just a bit longer, to take just a bit more pleasure from him before she orders him to stop. It's as if she is playing a game of chicken with herself. She doesn't want to stop too early and deny herself pleasure, but she doesn't want to stop too late and spoil the game for everyone.
The tidal wave of pleasure rises higher and higher within her. She focuses on her breathing and waits until she is close, very close, but not close enough that she won't be able to pull back, and her nerve endings feel on fire and...
"Stop!" she orders (more like gasps), pulling Peter's head back. Thankfully he stops immediately, and kneels back, looking at her like a dog waiting for orders.
Gamora allows herself a moment to just breathe and get the pulsating ache between her legs under control.
"On the bed." she finally says.
Peter crawls obediently on the mattress, lying down on his back to one side of where Ronan is still sprawled in recovery.
His cock looks lovely all hard and twitching and bound, like a present waiting to be unwrapped. Gamora wants to feel him inside her, but now she is not yet fully back in control of herself, and it is not the right time to move towards the endgame yet, so she does the next best thing she can think of.
"I want you to tell me when you are close." she orders, taking the oil bottle from the stand and uncorking it with slow deliberate movements.
"Your pleasure is under my control, not yours." she continues.
Peter nods and hisses in pleasure when she drips oil on his cock and his balls and starts massaging it slowly into his skin.
She strokes his cock in long, lazy pulls, and fondles his taut balls with her other hand until he is whimpering under his breath, then lets it slide even lower, oiled fingers teasing his perineum and playing with his puckered entrance.
The boys have told her about the most recent developments in their relationship, and she has seen for herself that Peter is willing to experiment in that sense, but she still asks for his explicit consent before acting.
"Are you alright with me doing this to you?" she says.
Peter nods, wide-eyed and eager.
"I'm cool... Just not gonna last long if you do." he pants.
"You will resist." she orders, slowly, carefully slipping her finger inside him, wary of hurting him.
The noises he makes are only of pleasure, though, and emboldened, Gamora lets her touch on his cock become firmer and slips a second finger in, slowly spreading him.
She alternates her ministrations, allowing him to concentrate on one feeling, and then suddenly depriving him of it, only to switch to another, so that he is constantly on the brink of something, but never close enough to fall, and it is driving him wild. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and his body arches and bucks.
Gamora relishes in the sight and in the sounds he is making, they are enough to make her own pleasure build up in her. She is thinking about asking him how he wants to come, secretly hoping that he will let her continue to touch him like this and watch him come, when she becomes aware of an extraneous sound, a moan but in a deeper tone than Peter's ones.
She turns towards the sound, letting go of Peter for a moment. Ronan looks at her with wide, dark eyes, an embarrassed expression on his face. One of his large, strong hands is wrapped around his cock, and he is frozen mid-stroke. The sight pleases her more than she would have thought.
"That's cheating." Peter comments groggily.
"Yes, it is. - Gamora confirms - It's not fair for you to seek your own pleasure like that, beloved." she chides, disentangling herself from Peter and crawling towards the Kree.
Ronan drops his hand, even as his cock twitches in anticipation.
"You two are so beautiful, meryw-i... I... I couldn help myself... - he explains weakly - I didn't want to interrupt..." he adds, but his words are broken off by a strangled cry when she slaps his greedy cock hard enough to sting.
"Excuses won't save you. - she cuts him off - You will have to make penance." she adds with another slap.
The Kree gasps again, but nods.
"It's fair. I deserve it." he rasps, going along with the game.
Gamora slaps him again, and then some more, a few times in a row, leaving him gasping and twitching and barely able to open his eyes.
"If I didn't know you are too honest for this, I'd think you did it on purpose, to make me punish you..." she comments, calming him down with gentle strokes.
"I didn't. I swear." Ronan manages to say.
"I believe you. That's why I will make your path to pleasure even more winding and agonising than Peter's." she replies with a smile and another, lighter slap.
"Peter, come here and help me." she orders, and the Terran promptly obeyes, gingerly kneeling next to her.
"What's the plan?" he asks. He seems very happy to have the chance to top Ronan again.
"Make him beg for release, over and over. I like the sound of it." she replies, looking at Ronan as she speaks.
"I have something that might help us." Peter comments smugly, running his hands lovingly over their lover's hips. The Kree groans. Maybe he knows what Peter is talking about, or maybe it's just his hyperaesthesia. Either way, the plan is already working.
"Go get it, then." Gamora orders, striving to hide her own anticipation.
The Terran slides off the bed and starts to rummage in his luggage, then still with a triumphant little shout and returns. In his hands is a strange contraption, shaped a bit like a squattish, slender, round-tipped cone ending in a thin neck followed by a flared, flat cap. It is made of some sort of dark, vibrant red plastic, mostly smooth, but with a rough-ish wavy pattern etched on one side near the tip.
"What is this?" Gamora asks, slightly perplexed.
"This is an anal plug. One of my ex girlfriends liked these sort of things. I bought it before Helenai's wedding, but we never managed to try it out. - Peter explains - It doesn't do much on its own, but it'll make him unable to stop thinking about it..." he adds quietly, sliding the tip of the plug over Ronan's groin. The Kree looks at him with a mixture of worry and desire, but ultimately desire wins and he spreads his legs a bit more, nodding quietly.
"Do it." Gamora orders. She sits back on her haunches and watches Peter pour oil over his hands and slick Ronan up for the taking, pumping, sliding, scissoring his fingers inside him.
She watches Ronan fall apart more and more as Peter him patiently spreads him. His cock and his balls glisten with oil from where Peter has been touching him to take him off the edge, and his legs tremble with pleasure.
He is ever beautiful in his surrender, and when finally Peter slides the plug inside him, slowly pushing it in until his entrance clenches around the indentation, Gamora waits a long moment before stepping in, entranced by the slack, ecstatic expression on his face and by the minute jerks and twitches of his hips as his body tries to adjust to the foreign invasion.
"How does it feel?" she asks, placing a hand on his belly to force him into stillness.
"Ah! Good! - the Kree exclaims - It feels good!"
"No pain?" she insists.
"No!" he gasps.
"You will tell me if it becomes painful. - she instructs - And you will use the safe word if it becomes too much in any way." she adds.
Ronan nods in agreement.
"I will." he says.
Gamora trails a finger up his cock. He twitches and groans as his inner muscles contract around the plug. It gives her ideas.
"Kneel on the bed, Peter, hands behind your head. - she barks - You can't touch yourself or him until I say so." she adds. Forced to watch without touching, and held close to the brink by his trussed-up cock, Peter will know torment as well.
"Now, beloved, are you ready? - she asks Ronan, kneeling between his spread legs - I will slap you, and you will have to keep count of the blows, alright?" she proposes.
Ronan nods, twitches, groans again and Gamora lets fly, not hard, but a solid hit that makes his cock bob sideways and his whole body arch and clench. He cries out, surprised by the intensity of his own pleasure, but still manages a trembling "One!".
"Good. - she says, rubbing a hand soothingly on his hip - Let's see how many you can take." she adds, and resumes her task.
By the time she gets to five, broken declarations of love fall from his lips in between the numbers, and by the time she hits ten he is tossing on the bed, face screwed in a grimace, lost to an agony of pleasure.
It takes only a couple more before he starts begging her.
"Oh, merit! Please! Let me come! - he pleads - I can't take it anymore, I need to... Ah!" he shouts when she slaps him nonetheless, unheeding of his pleas, even though she knows she can only stretch the game this far. A drop of clear fluid is already welling at the tip of his cock, if she teases him any further he won't be able to resist.
"Hold on, beloved. Hold on. - she encourages him - Resist for me. Just a little bit more." she promises. Her hands flit to his chest and arms and sweat-beaded face, caressing chastely and tenderly and she can see him pull back from the edge with iron determination.
"Good... good, my beloved. I knew you could resist. - she praises him, bending her head to kiss him lightly on the lips - I need you to wear this, now, like Peter is doing. Do you think you can?" she asks, pulling out another silken ribbon.
Ronan nods weakly, slightly overwhelmed.
"I... I do." he agrees.
"Very well." she comments, deft fingers working the ribbon in precise loops around his balls and his cock. He is much farther gone then Peter was when she tied him up, and, to be honest, quite a bit bigger, so the effect is even more striking.
She gives his jutting cock an experimental stroke, and he whimpers helplessly, but resists.
"Stay here for me, just a moment more. - she commands - I will take care of Peter, and then I will give you more pleasure than you can imagine, alright?" she proposes.
"A-alright." he manages to stammer.
Gamora leaves him be, knowing that he won't transgress again, and turns towards Peter, who is still where she has left him last, still bound by her will.
What she has done to Ronan has affected him, and now he is shivering and jerking his hips, his cock so engorged with blood that it seems ready to burst at any moment.
"D-do you like to see us l-like this?" he manages to ask, casting a long, hungry glance at Ronan.
"I do." she admits, pushing on his back until he sinks on his hands and knees, legs spread.
She pours more oil on her hands and spreads it on his buttocks and entrance, massaging his tense, quivering balls with each pass.
"And do you like being like this? Spread out and tied up, ready for the taking? - she asks, slipping her fingers in him again - Do you like to surrender?" she insists.
She has already worked him loose earlier, so now it is easy to loosen him up even further, until he can easily take three of her fingers.
"I do. - he gasps between moans - I belong to you two. No big deal." he adds with a certain effort.
"Good. Do you want to come, my beloved Star-Lord?" she asks.
Peter nods, pushing back hard against her fingers.
"Gods, please!" he exclaims.
"Ronan, come here and make him." Gamora commands, much to the boys' delighted astonishment.
"I... Are you sure?" Ronan manages to ask, even though his abused cock is twitching like mad, probably aching to be buried inside the Terran's warm hole.
"I am. - Gamora confirms with a nod, squeezing her legs together to give her poor, frustrated pussy some relief - I want you to take him and fuck him slowly until he comes. Can you do this for me?" she asks.
Ronan hesitates, regarding them in silence.
"Please, bluebell! - Peter exclaims, arching beautifully when she curls her fingers inside him, hitting his sweet spot - Oh, Gods! Please! I need you! Fuck me! Please! Make me come for you!" he pleads brokenly, now firmly stuck in subspace.
"Will this be enough to push Ronan into some sort of dominant role?" Gamora asks herself.
Ronan curses under his breath, and pushes himself to his knees to crawl towards Peter.
"You're still not allowed to come." Gamora clarifies, letting go of Peter
"You aren't either." Ronan retorts.
There is a determined glint in his eyes and a stubborn set to his jaw. The answer to her question seems to be yes, she notices with delight.
She nods and sits back again, to watch Ronan kneel on the bed and then rearrange an unresisting Peter into straddling his lap, facing him.
Peter's legs tremble, barely supporting him, so Ronan bodily lifts him, lining him up, and slowly, gently sinks into him. Peter moans, his head thrown back in utter abandonment, his hands clenched on Ronan's shoulders, while Ronan's face is hidden in the crook of Peter's neck, and the Kree is whispering endearments and praise to help his lover resist the overwhelming feeling and adjust to the invasion.
It seems to work, because eventually he is fully sheathed in, and Peter is practically hanging limp and shaking in his arms, whimpering in bliss and torment with every breath.
Ronan doesn't allow him much time to rest, though, and soon starts to move, gently rocking into him as he holds him in his arms.
Gamora would have thought that he would rush into things, trying to bring relief to both as quickly as possible, but he keeps the rythm of their lovemaking torturously slow and whispers words of love into Peter's ear as he inches him closer and closer to rapture.
Peter writhes and whimpers, and Gamora whimpers too, nearly overwhelmed by desire in turn.
They always look to her like the most beautiful thing in the Universe, but now they are especially exquisite and she has to exert a tight control on herself to stay put and avoid interfering or touching herself to relieve the pressure that she feels builing inside her.
"I'm close... so close... please, let me come!" Peter pleads, but Ronan doesn't speed up, and doesn't free his lover's cock either. He just grits his teeth and continues to rock their bodies together.
Peter continues to beg and plead, and finally starts to cry. Tears run from the corner of his eyes even as he moans in ecstasy, and finally Ronan slides a hand between their bodies and unties the now-ruined silken ribbon from around Peter's cock.
"You can come now, meri. - he whispers - Come for me. Let me look at you." he entreats, pushing once more into him, but Peter is beyond words now.
His back arches and his eyes nearly roll back into their sockets. He comes long and hard, shaking and gasping soundlessly, and Gamora nearly comes herself just from seeing him so lost.
She clenches her fists so hard that her fingernails bite into the palms of her hands, and closes her eyes, trying to concentrate on her breathing, but, even so, she only barely manages to pull herself back from the brink and kneels there, aching and dripping wet, her inner muscles pulsating and fluttering, as Ronan disentangles himself from Peter, laying him down gently on the bed and then turns towards her, still hard and imposing and trembling with desire.
He crawls towards her, and pushes her down to lay on her back. Gamora closes her eyes in an ecstasy of submission, and spreads her legs for him, exposing herself shamelessly.
A finger traces her swollen, drenched folds.
"I am close..." she whimpers helplessly.
"Take your seal off me and I will give you all the pleasure you can take." Ronan retorts, unclasping her top to let her breasts spill out of its confines.
Gamora nods and lets him help her to sit down on the bed. Her fingers fly to the knot and the ribbon slips off like an afterthought, freeing him at last. He hisses and closes his eyes, and Gamora senses an opportunity to regain the upper hand, but strong fingers close around her wrist before she can put in action her plan of stroking him into renewed submission, and a strong hand pushes her back onto the bed.
Ronan kneels between her parted legs, sliding his arms below her knees and helping her as she lifts her hips to line herself up with him.
He sinks inside her with a smooth, glorious push, crying out in ecstasy and tearing an identical cry from her lips.
She feels raw, hypersensitive, nearly overwhelmed by his sheer size and girth, and when he pulls out and snaps his hips back into her again, she shouts even louder.
"I-I am not... I am not going to l-last." she pants in the subsequent pause.
"Neither am I." Ronan admits, pressing his forehead against hers. He is shaking, and his cock is twitching inside her, sending sparks of ecstasy to fuel the fire roaring inside her.
He straightens and grabs her ankles, pushing her knees closer to her shoulders and nearly bending her in two, and starts fucking her hard and fast and merciless, hitting some secret place inside her that makes her whole body seize up in ecstasy.
She grabs his wrists, holding on tight and screams at every thrust of his hips. The pleasure builds inside her fast and hight, it ramps up inside her, making her screams rise in pitch and volume, just as his thrusts become increasingly desperate.
He falters, picks up his pace again, heart beating frantic in his chest, she pushes back meeting thrust with thrust and it grows and grows, and suddenly it peaks within her, just as he buries himself in her with a last desperate thrust of his hips.
Her core clenches around his spurting cock and she holds on tight to him as wave after wave of ecstasy wash over her, leaving her too breathless to even scream.
Small, high-pitched moans pour from her lips as he spends himself inside her, thrusting blindly in a last rush of strength. Her pleasure is being drawn out their pleasure to such impossible heights, that she feels on the verge of saying the safe word and make him stop, as selfish as it might seem, but thankfully that desperate strength finally abandons him.
He withdraws, and they collapse on the bed side by side, limp and too exhausted to even speak. They just hold each other as their hearts slow their frantic beats and revel in each other's closeness.
It is peace, it is bliss.
They fall asleep for a moment, or at least Gamora does. When she comes to, the bed is gently shifting as Peter drags himself to lie beside them.
"Gods, guys... - he whispers, settling against Ronan's back - It was..."
"It was." Gamora agrees. Ronan limits himself to a nod and snuggles closer to Gamora, half-asleep again.
There is another moment of breathless quiet before Peter speaks again.
"The plug." he says with a certain worry.
"What about it?" Ronan manages to rasp.
"It needs off. - Peter explains - You should not sleep with it. It's kind of dangerous." he adds.
"Kind of?" Ronan retorts.
"Yeah. The kind of dangerous that lands you in a hospital with embarrassing questions asked." the Terran continues.
Ronan sighs and moves his legs to give him access, flushing hard, once more pushed into his usual subspace.
"It's alright, beloved." Gamora reassures him, brushing her fingers over his forehead.
Beyond his shoulder she can see Peter reach down to pull the plug out. Ronan gasps and arches, tensing up.
"Am I hurting you?" Peter asks.
Ronan just shakes his head, letting out another soft gasp when Peter shifts the plug again.
"I need you to relax, or I will end up hurting you." Peter chides.
"I'm trying!" Ronan gasps, still managing to sound irritated, turning to glare at Peter over his head.
"Hush, beloved... Look at me. - Gamora whispers, making him turn back towards her. - Just look at me and breathe. Yes, just like that." she instructs, and it seems to work, but only until Peter starts working the plug loose again.
Back are the breathless gasps, the twitch of his hips and the dark flush on his face.
"Oh... Peter! - he moans - What the hell are you doing?!" he asks with more than a hint of desperation.
"I am just trying to get this thing off!" the Terran retorts, in equal parts worried and flustered.
"It feels like I am going to..." Ronan moans, closing his eyes and hiding his face against Gamora's chest.
The assassin looks down his body at the same time as Peter lifts his head to look over it. Ronan's cock is already hard again, as if he had not just come. This is extraordinary even for Ronan's usually fast recovery abilities. The Terran air is working another small miracle for them.
"Wow! This is... just wow!" Peter comments quietly, a little bit awed.
"Don't stop, please! - Ronan begs - I'm... I'm close again. I don't know how... I am sorry..." he whispers, breathing hard against Gamora's skin
"Shh... Don't. It's alright. - Gamora tells him, smoothing her hands down his neck and shoulders - There is nothing to be ashamed about. Just let go." she whispers.
Ronan nods and holds on to her, shaking and shivering, as Peter finally pops the damned plug out of him and slips his fingers into him in its stead, working them carefully, with a concentrated expression on his face.
The Kree whimpers in Gamora's arms, and then Peter must find the right spot and he arches, eyes half-shut and unseeing.
"There?" Peter asks quietly.
Ronan nods and Peter does it again, making him arch even harder.
"It's too much... I can't." he whimpers in desperation.
"You can. - Gamora tells him - Don't fight it. Relax, you can take it." she adds, tenderly kissing his face.
Peter just snuggles closer against his back, kissing the back of his neck and his shoulders and murmuring soothing words of love as he strokes him over and over, until his quiet whimpers become a wordless, breathless groan and he comes one last time, even harder than before, nearly passing out with pleasure in the embrace of his lovers.
Gamora didn't even know it was possible to cram so much pleasure into one lovemaking session, but it is beautiful, and she feels no shame in saying it.
She tells her lovers how beautiful and amazing they are, over and over as they clean themselves up as best as they can and settle down to sleep.
They are everything she would have asked for, if she had known she could ask. They are her peace and her reason to fight, breathless laughter and quiet comfort, her greatest worry and her greatest source of strength, her friends, her lovers, her battle-brothers.
She is lucky to be have them, and she knows it.