#sentry drabble

He sat perched on the edge of the mattress like a coiled spring wrapped in innocence, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, fingers twiddling idly in his lap as if he was a scolded boy rather than the powerhouse he truly was. His striking golden eyes lifted to meet yours, wide and pleading, the irises shifting from a soft amber glow to a deeper, molten shimmer–like liquid sunlight trapped in a haze of embarrassment, like he was becoming shy from your comments, which was something he rarely showed to anyone but you. His wavy light brown hair fell in tousled strands across his forehead, framing his face that held an almost ethereal intensity.

“But I can’t help it,” He murmured, his voice a low, rumbling timbre that sent a shiver racing down your spine, laced with genuine regret and that undercurrent of raw hunger he could never fully mask, even if he tried. “You know this about me–better than anyone. Even when I pour every ounce of my focus into holding back…I just…You have this unbreakable hold on me, one that no one else has ever come close to. And the moment I get a chance to be with you, I get so overwhelmed, and so damn excited that everything else fades…And well…The bed frame just becomes an unfortunate casualty in the heat of it all.”

You halted your restless pacing mid-stride, pivoting to face him fully, the oversized sleep shirt you wore–a soft, faded cotton number that hung loose on your frame–swishing gently against your bare thighs with the motion. The hem teased just inches from revealing more, brushing your skin like a whisper, and you could feel the weight of his gaze fixated there, his eyes darkening with unspoken desire. He had slipped into control earlier that evening, emerging through Bob’s bloodstream, drawn by the siren call of your presence as you prepared for bed. Your clean skin carried a natural sweetness that bordered on intoxication, a subtle scent of burnt sugar, vanilla, and a warmth that had been teasing him all day long, pulling at his senses until Bob’s mental barriers weakened just enough for him to seize the moment. But now, with your ground rules laid out so firmly, Sentry felt the invisible chains of restraint tightening around him, his powerful body thrumming with pent-up energy that begged for release.

You stepped closer, drawn by the pull between you, positioning yourself between his parted legs where he sat. When he shifted, the mattress dipped and squeaked slightly under his weight, and you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the faint musk of his arousal mingling with the clean, solar-like scent that was uniquely his–like you were coming face to face with the human embodiment of the sun. He tilted his head up to meet your eyes, his raw sienna gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch in your chest–shimmering like forged gold in the low light, filled with a mix of adoration and feral need.

Reaching out, you cupped his cheek, pressing your palm against the overheated, stubbled plane of his jaw, dragging your thumb along the smooth skin just beneath his eyes. He leaned into your touch immediately, nuzzling against it like a touch starved animal seeking solace and attention, his eyes fluttering half-closed as a soft hum escaped his lips. He took in a deep breath, his chest expanding against yours, inhaling your scent, letting it fill his lungs, before leaning forward, and pressing his lips to the soft plane of your stomach through the thin barrier of your shirt, the contact leaving a warm, wet imprint that seeped through the fabric. His mouth trailed upward in a languid path, open-mouthed kisses mapping the curve of your torso, and the swell of your breast, each one growing hungrier, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweat that had soaked into the cotton.

Your fingers twitched against his cheek, a subtle tremor that betrayed the electric spark racing up your spine, your body responding instinctively as your nipples tightened into stiff peaks, straining against the material. He paused at the sight of those hardened buds, his golden eyes fixating on them with raw hunger, his mouth watering as if you were a feast laid before him. His hot breath ghosted over the shirt, warming the spot just before he tilted his head and enveloped one nipple in the wet heat of his mouth. The suction was immediate and greedy, his tongue lapping in slow, deliberate circles that soaked the cotton through, the sensation radiating straight to your core like a live wire, twisting your stomach into knots of aching need.

“Fuck, Sentry,” You gasped, your voice breathy and edged with surprise, your fingers weaving deeper into the tousled waves of his hair, tugging just enough to elicit a low rumble from him. The heat from his body seeped into yours, flooding your veins with liquid fire, making your pulse thunder, “You really can’t hold back for even a second, can you? You’re already losing your mind for me…Unraveling like this.” He shook his head slowly against your breast, refusing to break the intimate seal, those striking eyes squeezing shut in a haze of pure, unadulterated bliss as a muffled moan vibrated from his throat, sending delicious tremors through the sensitive peak. His teeth followed, grazing with exquisite precision–just a hint of sharpness to heighten the pleasure, making you arch into him involuntarily, your back bowing, leaving your thighs clenching together in a futile bid for relief. A possessive growl built in his chest, echoing in the quiet room as it escaped him. His large hands–calloused and slick with a faint sheen of sweat–clamped onto your hips, fingers digging in with a firm grip as he guided you forward with gentle insistence, coaxing your legs to part and straddle his powerful thighs.

Your knees sank into the plush mattress on either side of him, the bed frame emitting a faint, protesting creak under the combined weight–a subtle reminder of the fragility you had warned him about. Your arms draped around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer as you settled fully into his lap, the solid ridge of his erection straining against his plaid pyjama pants, pressing insistently against the damp heat of your core through your panties. The friction was maddening, as your body rolled against him in a slow grind, mapping out his length with the movement.

He released your nipple with a soft, obscene pop, the fabric now clinging translucently to your skin like a second layer, the damp spot cooling rapidly in the air and sending a fresh shiver cascading down your limbs, pebbling your flesh with goosebumps. A heavy sigh escaped him, his breath a scorching puff against the material as he pressed a lingering kiss over the swell of your breast, right above your racing heart. He rested his forehead against your chest for a moment, the intimacy of the gesture grounding himself in you, before his eyes flicked upward to capture yours–a swirling vortex of unrestrained want, gleaming like polished gold under the lamp’s warm glow, depthless and consuming.

Your fingers traced lazy patterns up and down the nape of his neck, feeling the fine hairs standing on end, goosebumps blooming under your touch as he let out a contented sigh, his body shuddering in response, vulnerable in a way that made your heart clench.

”You’re always so warm and ready for me…” He whispered, sliding his hand upward along the smooth expanse of your thigh, his fingertips leaving trails of fire in their wake, mapping the soft skin and the the faint dips and groves along it with a gentle admiration, “How the hell could I possibly control myself when you’re like this? When every inch of you calls me?” You smirked down at him, the curve of your lips playful, your heart pounding in sync with the insistent throb between your legs as you tugged on his hair, tilting his head back to expose the strong line of his jaw.

”It’s simple, really,” You replied, leaning in to scatter a constellation of kisses across his flushed cheeks, each one lingering over the array of barely there freckles that splattered his flesh, your tongue darting out to taste the faint salt on his skin from the sheen of sweat that had settled there. Your teeth nipped at the bridge of his nose with a teasing bite, drawing a soft hiss from him, “Let me guide you, and hopefully…You can focus on holding yourself back just enough to keep the bed in one piece.” He responded with a low chuckle, as his hands shifted slowly to your ass, his palms cupping the full curves with a grip that balanced tenderness and demand, kneading the pliant flesh slowly, savouring the way it yielded under his fingers. He stayed like that for a moment, just taking in the softness of your skin, the supple way it gave beneath his ministrations, before sliding one of his hands further up the hem of your shirt, molding into the subtle dip of your waist, then curving across the gentle swell of your belly before descending to the front of your panties. His fingertips toyed with the waistband that dug into your flesh, a deliberate dance of advance and retreat–dipping beneath the elastic to brush the sensitive skin below, then pulling back, stoking the fire of anticipation until you were squirming in his lap, your hips canting forward in a silent plea, the ache building to an exquisite edge.

”You’re going to be taking on an impossible task, sweetheart,” He murmured, his tone laced with amusement and pure, unfiltered head, as his hand finally plunged beneath the fabric. You shifted upward instinctively, granting him better access, and he rewarded you with a deep groan at the slick arousal coating your folds–a silken welcome that felt like a divine secret that was revealed just for him.

Gathering the wetness on his fingers like precious nectar that stuck to his skin, he brought them up to circle your clit in slow spirals that made your muscles twitch and your hips buck toward him in a desperate pursuit. You tugged harder at his hair, angling his head back even further to reveal the taut column of his throat, watching with complete entrancement as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a thick swallow.

”Fuck…That’s it,” You breathed, rocking against his hand, the rhythm syncing with the pulse of your core and your heart beat. The grip on your ass tightened, nails biting in just enough to sting sweetly, guiding your movements with wordless encouragement, urging you to chase the friction, to take what you needed from him. His fingers dipped lower once more, returning to your dripping entrance, pressing against the soft tissue there feeling the slight give, before sliding two thick digits in with an effortless glide, stretching your walls in a perfect, velvet fullness that made your toes curl and a gasp tear from your throat. The sensation was all-consuming–the initial burn dissolving into blissful completion, your inner muscles fluttering around him, clenching greedily as if to draw him deeper. He began to move then, curling the digits so his fingers pressed against that hidden spongy spot inside you that coaxed a soft whimper from your lips that hung in the air like music.

He held your gaze captive throughout, his golden eyes widening in utter awe, his jaw going slack as a lazy smile curved his mouth. With each thrust of his fingers, it only deepened, as if the sight of you–lashes fluttering, lips parting on breathless sigh–entranced him beyond words, your unravelling a masterpiece unfolding before him.

”Look at you,” He whispered, his voice full of unchecked desire, his fingers pumping deeper, his thumb finding your swollen clit once again to continue to draw insistent circles against it, combining the sensations, layering them so that he could drag you closer and closer to your orgasm, “Clenching around my fingers like you can’t get enough…You love this, don’t you? Love how I fill this tight pussy up with just my fingers, how I make you drip and tremble with something so simple…So intimate.” He added, nipping at the flesh of your jaw, making sure to leave a barely-there mark.

”God, yes,” You moaned, the word spilling from your mouth, unbridled as your hips ground down to meet his thrusts, driving him impossibly deeper, the wet, rhythmic sounds of his fingers claiming you echoing like an overture of sin. “Keep going–show me you own every inch of my body…” The plea ignited him, his pace accelerating with a subtle twist, the heel of his palm grinding against your mound for that extra layer of pressure that had your vision blurring, eyes squeezing shut as the heat in your belly only grew more, overtaking you, pulling you under as your muscles tightened.

You surged forward, crashing your mouth against his in a kiss that was pure chaos–messy and voracious, tongues clashing in a slick tangle, saliva mingling in a heated exchange that left your lips glistening and swollen. He tasted of salt and smoldering warmth, undercut with a faint hint of mint, his groans vibrating into you while you nipped and licked, breaths passing between you in short bursts.

Your body wound taut, the spiral of arousal building with relentless intensity, every stroke of his fingers exploiting your most sensitive spots with masterful knowledge–he knew your body like a map he had charted a thousand times, drawing out the ascent deliberately to savour your every quiver, and every gasp. But as your walls began to pulse erratically around him, he sensed the precipice.

“Come for me, baby,” He growled against your lips, teeth grazing your lower one in a sharp nip that threw you a mere second from your end, “Let me feel you soak my hand–give it all to me.”

The command shattered you. Ecstasy surging like a tidal wave as your core convulsed around his fingers in rhythmic vice-grips, halting his movements momentarily as broken moans poured from you into his mouth. Your body quaked against him, hips jerking in wild rolls, feeling every sensation grow until it bordered on discomfort–the slick glide, the stretch, the aftershocks rippling through your body like you had been electrocuted and now you were trying to recover.

He gentled his touch as you hit your high, slowing to tender strokes that prolonged the bliss, his fingers lingering inside to capture the final, fluttering contractions, before finally settling. Pulling back from the kiss just enough to draw a breath, he released a deep, satiated sigh, his eyes softening at the image of you slowly slumping down against him, bearing your weight on his palm.

His hand on your ass shifted upward with a tender glide, skating along the curve of your spine until his arm wrapped securely around your lower back, drawing you impossibly closer in a protective cradle that spoke volumes of his devotion. Your chest pressed flush against his, the pebbled tips of your nipples grazing the warm expanse of his skin through the dampened fabric of your shirt, the lingering spit stain from his earlier attentions seeping into his own top, cool and intimate against the heat blooming between your bodies. The sensation was perfect–a subtle friction that sent fresh sparks dancing along your nerves, reminding you of how attended you were to each other, every brush a testament to the magnetic pull that bound you.

He eased his fingers from your core with deliberate slowness, eliciting a soft, involuntary gasp from your throat as they dragged along your sensitive walls, the emptiness leaving you aching and bereft. Smearing the warm, slick evidence of your release across the soft plane of your lower belly in a possessive streak, his touch finally withdrew completely from beneath your panties’ waistband. A quiet whimper escaped your lips at the loss, your body mourning the connection, but without that barrier, you could now feel the full, throbbing heat of his erection pressing against you–thick and insistent, straining desperately against the thin confines of his pajama pants, the rigid length pulsing with need as it nestled against your soaked core.

Your hand smoothed down the tousled waves of his hair in soothing strokes, the repetitive motion grounding you amid the hazy comedown, helping you reclaim your scattered senses as your breathing steadied from ragged pants to deeper, more even inhales. He adjusted beneath you with a subtle shift, leaning forward to envelop you in a full embrace, his chin slotting into your shoulder, his stubble scratching lightly against a small patch of exposed skin in a way that felt comforting, familiar–like home.

In that position, he brought his glistening fingers to his lips, indulging in the essence of you with reverent hunger, sucking them clean as if he was savouring the finest wine. The taste–your sweet, soul-gripping nectar–flooded his senses, a flavour he craved with an intensity that bordered on obsession, wishing he could bottle it, and distill it into something eternal to quench the undying thirst that consumed him. Even when Bob held the reins, thoughts of your taste always infiltrated every corner of his mind, but tonight, with you asserting control, he surrendered willingly, letting you dictate the pace for as long as your whims desired, a god yielding to his mortal muse–but if he had a choice, he’d want to drink you straight from the source rather than secondary to that.

You could hear the subtle, wet sounds of him sucking gently on the digits, the rhythmic pull and release tickling your heightened awareness, stirring the embers of your arousal back to life as a fresh wave of heat pooled low in your belly. Turning your head slightly, you watched the intimate display unfold–the way his golden eyes were half-lidded in bliss, and how the veins in his neck subtly glowed with a shimmering, ethereal hue, faint but unmistakable, like sunlight trapped within his bloodstream. It was a telltale sign of his fraying restraint, the power within him surging closer to the surface, and a small, knowing smile curved your lips. You realized then, with a thrill of anticipation, that taming your poor sun god might prove futile; because by the time you would guide him fully to lay down on the bed, he’d be lost to the overwhelm, his adoration for you totally eclipsing all control, and you let out a little huff of defeat.

He withdrew his fingers from his mouth with a soft pop, exhaling a deep, contented sigh that ghosted warm across your ear.

”Absolute perfection incarnate…I could never get enough of this,” He whispered, as if you were the axis around which his universe spun. His mouth descended to pepper a trail of kisses along the side of your neck, each one leaving a sticky path of his saliva mingled with your arousal against your warmed skin–a claiming mark that made your pulse quicken. The kisses built in fervor until he reached your lips, hovering there for a heartbeat before murmuring, “You think one day I could just…Bury my face between your legs for an undecided amount of time? Lose myself in you completely?”

He sealed the question with a brief but achingly gentle kiss, letting you taste the lingering sweetness of yourself on his tongue.

”You’d get all wrinkly…” You replied teasingly, as he dragged his now-damp fingers down the front of your shirt, drying them against the fabric in lazy strokes before settling his hand on the side of your thigh, splaying his grip wide enough to claim a good handful of flesh. He grinned at your comment, the expression boyish yet edged with feral heat, shaking his head as if the notion were absurd.

”Does it seem like I care about that?” The words were playful, but beneath them lay a profound truth–his love for you transcended the mundane, a force so all-consuming that he’d gladly endure any consequence to bask in you, to feel closer to you and your body. You hummed in response, a low, vibrating sound of agreement, and shifted in his lap, pressing your soaked panties against the rigid line of his erection. The contact sent a jolt through the both of you–the shared heat mingling, fabrics clinging with damp friction as his eyes fluttered shut, jaw clenching with visible effort to keep his mind at bay.

”No…But I’m sure you’d get questions from your teammates as to why your face looks like it’s become a life-sized prune…” You murmured, your breath fanning across his skin as the tip of his nose bumped yours in an intimate nuzzle, a huff of laughter escaping him.

”I’d just leave Bob to deal with that. I’m sure he’d come up with a great lie…” He teased back, his eyes reopening to lock onto yours, before pressing another kiss to your lips–this one slower, more profound, the two of you drawing in a synchronized inhale as if sharing the very air that sustained you. Your hands slipped around to cup the sides of his neck, thumbs tracing the pulsing veins there, feeling them warm further beneath your touch, the subtle glow intensifying like a beacon responding to your call, begging for more of your attention.

His hand on your back squeezed with gentle insistence, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh as if anchoring himself to you, like he was terrified you might slip away despite knowing you’d never dream of it. He guided your hips forward in a languid roll, letting you feel the full extent of his arousal slowly–the throbbing hardness, the desperate ache that mirrored your own. Your lips parted for him instinctively, inviting his tongue to delve deeper, tasting each other anew as soft moans spilled into the room, harmonizing one another.

The two of you pawed at each other with increasing urgency–hands exploring, squeezing, guiding, leaning into every curve and plan as if tracing a sacred map. Power danced between your bodies: you, the one who tamed or at least tried to tame the untamable, holding the reins with a confidence born from his trust; he, the powerhouse who could level worlds but chose instead to kneel at your altar, his every touch a declaration of love so fierce it humbled gods. Until, at last, you pulled back to draw a full, shuddering breath, your lips slick and swollen from his kisses, coated in a sheen of shared saliva that gleamed in the lamplight. Your chests heaved in unison, breaths mingling–you inhaling his exhale, he yours–in an inescapable cycle that felt eternal, binding.

Your hands trailed down the fabric of his shirt, fingers dancing over the defined ridges of his torso, feeling the muscles twitch and contract beneath your touch like living marble responding to its sculptor. A smile tugged at your lips at the reaction, the way his body sang for you alone. Your fingers hooked into the hem of his shirt, tugging upward.

“Arms…” You commanded softly, peeling the material away to reveal the pale, freckle-dusted expanse of his abdomen. A faint trail of light brown hair arrowhead downward from his navel, vanishing beneath the tie of his pants where the waistband of his boxer briefs peeks out. He complied without hesitation, his hands leaving your body only long enough to raise his arms overhead, allowing you to shimmy the shirt free in a slow reveal, your eyes drinking in every detail–the scatter of freckles that seemed to glisten across the canvas of his chest, the subtle play of muscles honed by his godlike powers, and the smooth, warm skin that begged for your lips, and your full undivided attention.

Once the shirt was discarded to the side in a careless toss, you leaned forward, pressing a series of featherlight kisses along his bare shoulder, savouring the radiant heat emanating from him like sunlight on stone. His arms encircled you in a cocooning hold, strong yet gentle, as your hands skimmed ticklish paths over the sides of his ribcage, coaxing patches of goosebumps to rise in their wake, his body squirming away from your touch.

”Mmm, Y/N…Bad idea…” He warned, knowing full well you were toying with the edges of the short tempered control he still held. Deep within, his power roiled like a caged storm, yearning to erupt–to shake the foundations of your bedroom, to let himself go and break everything in his wake because that was the only way to express how overwhelmed you made him feel–but he wrestled it down, clinging to composure for your sake, even as your provocations tempted fate. Your fingertips ceased their wandering patterns, lingering for a moment before you sighed, the sound soft and relenting.

”Sorry…How about we make it even?” You offered, and before he could voice the eager agreement gleaming in his eyes, you grasped the hem of your own shirt. With a fluid motion, you pulled it over your head, baring your breasts to the cool air–their curved sheened with sweat and peaked from earlier attentions–and revealing the soaked, clinging fabric of your panties that were molded to your form. Tossing it aside to join his discarded top, you watched his golden gaze darken, drinking you in with a meticulous eye that made your heart swell, his love laid bare just in the way he looked at you–like you were the sun he orbited, the only force capable of eclipsing his everlasting light.

To get a better look at you, he channeled his powers with exquisite care, letting the room gradually brighten as if dawn were breaking indoors–a soft, ethereal glow emanating from his very skin, illuminating every curve and shadow of your form without harshness. It was a controlled release, a subtle flex of his immense energy that brought him momentary relief, like venting steam from a pressure cooker on the verge of bursting. Your eyes stung briefly, squinting against the sudden radiance as they adjusted, the warm light bathing you both in a golden haze that made his gaze feel more appreciative, as if you were a divine artifact unveiled in a holy temple.

His eyes roamed over you, drinking in the sheen of your skin, the gentle rise and fall of your breasts, the way your nipples tightened further under his scrutiny. Leaning forward with a devotion that was worshipful, he peppered a trail of kisses along the plush tops of your breasts, his lips soft yet insistent, nipping at the flesh with just enough pressure to send pinpricks of pleasure radiating outward. He drew a section of skin into his mouth, sucking slowly, rhythmically, the wet heat building, his tongue massaging against it, until he released with a soft, resonant pop, blowing a stream of hot air over the glistening mark. The tip of his nose brushed against your nipple in a teasing graze, sending a fresh shiver cascading through you, your core clenching in echo.

”You’re my goddess,” He whispered, as his large hand flattened between your shoulder blades, the radiant heat of his palm seeping into your body like sunlight infusing earth, warming your blood, your bones, every inch of flesh until you felt aglow from within, “My religion, the only thing I worship apart from the sun…But then again, to me, you’re even more vital than that…” The words stirred something profound in your stomach, a flutter of arousal born from knowing his devotion ran soul-deep–he, the embodiment of solar might, placing you above the very source of his power, a testament to how completely you owned his heart, and his essence. Your lips curved into a tender smile, and you pressed a lingering kiss to the bridge of his nose, feeling the faint freckles there.

“I’d follow you to the ends of this world…” You replied, your voice laced with affection, wanting to display how much you were dedicated to him as well, shifting to plant a wet, sloppy kiss against the heated plane of one cheek, tasting the salt of his sweat, “Now…Take those pants off and lay back, let me show you how much I appreciate you,” You murmured, sealing the words with another kiss on his opposite cheek, balancing your affections like a ritual, but you made no move to dismount, instead settling deeper into the firm cushion of his thick, muscular thighs, claiming them as your throne. His brows furrowed in confusion, his golden irises flickering with a mix of amusement and mild exasperation.

”Aren’t you going to…Move off me so I can strip?” He asked, his hand shifting down to hold your hips, flexing slightly against the flesh there. You shook your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you ground down just enough to elicit a subtle hitch in his breath.

”I’m sure your superhuman strength can handle me being on top while you take off your pants. You’ve had far heavier things on your body before, and came out unscathed.” The apples of his cheeks flushed a rosy pink, the flustered gleam in his eyes deepening as the bedside lamp flickered erratically, his control wavering like a flame in the wind.

”Well, I wasn’t worked up those times, and I’ve got to focus on not breaking the bed, according to you. So…Grant me some mercy here…” He pleaded, his tone half-teasing, half-desperate. For a moment, you feigned deep consideration, tilting your head as if weighing his words, before letting out an exaggerated sigh of relent.

”Alright…Alright.” You eased off his lap, purposely dragging your soaked panties along the rigid bulge of his erection in the process, the friction drawing a small, guttural groan from his throat, his hips bucking slightly before he clamped down on the motion. You stepped back, crossing your arms beneath your breasts to accentuate their curve, watching with hooded eyes as he shimmied up the mattress, the duvet puffing and billowing beneath his weight like soft clouds. In one fluid motion, he tugged down his pyjama pants and boxer briefs, kicking them aside to reveal the powerful lines of his legs–thighs corded with muscle, hips sharp and defined, every inch radiating that inner glow that seeped out of his pores.

His cock sprang free, achingly hard and flushed, resting heavily against the taut plane of his lower belly as he adjusted against the pillows, the tip glistening with a bead of precum that trailed down the shaft in a slow, tantalizing rivulet. Veins pulsed along the thickness, prominent and throbbing, mapping a network of desire that made your mouth water; it was impressive in its girth and shape, and it was always a marvel how something so large could fit inside you so perfectly, stretching you to bliss without a hint of pain, as if your bodies were forged for only that union alone.

Once he was fully settled against the pillows like an offering laid bare for a deity, you moved toward him, the mattress dipping under your knees as you climbed on, crawling up his body with a serpent-like grace. His gaze followed every shift, his chest rising and falling in regulated breaths, though every so often you’d lean in to place gentle kisses along any expanse of skin within reach–his calf, the inside of his knee, the curve of his thigh–nipping just sharply enough to pull a gasp from his throat, the room’s light pulsing brighter for a split second before dimming, his power flickering like a heartbeat.

You lingered at his hips, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sharp v-lines there, your tongue darting out to trace the thick veins there, tasting the salty warmth of his skin, savouring the clean, solar essence that clung to him. His muscles tensed beneath your lips, a low hum vibrating from his chest as you teased closer to his cock, eyeing the glistening spot of precum pooling at the tip, a pearl of his arousal begging for attention.

Finally, you enveloped him in your mouth, the act messy and fervent right from the start–lips stretching around his girth as you took him deep, saliva pooling and dripping down the shaft in slick trails. The taste of him flooded your tongue: a subtle bitterness undercut by the smooth, clean warmth of his skin, like salted sunlight, addictive and uniquely his. You bobbed your head with rhythmic intent, sucking with hollowed cheeks, your tongue swirling along the underside, tracing those pulsing veins as they throbbed. He hit the back of your throat with each descent, the sensation a delicious fullness that made your core ache in sympathy, your own arousal soaking into your panties.

“Fuck…That’s it, Y/N,” He groaned, his voice a ragged growl, as one hand clawed at the duvet, his head tilting back against the pillows, exposing the glowing veins in his neck again, which you saw through your thick lashes, “Your mouth always feels so fucking perfect around my cock–like it was made specifically for me,” Moans spilled from him soon after, deep and unrestrained, the pots of your plants rattling faintly on the nightstand as his control slipped a notch, the air humming with latent energy. He reached down, his fingers gently grabbing your hair, not to guide but to just hold, his touch a blend of possession and tenderness, “God, the way you take me…You’re driving me insane…Fucking love it so much.” He babbled, as you moaned around him, sucking just a bit harder, like you were acknowledging his praises, which made him buck up into your mouth, causing you to pull back slightly and circle your tongue around the tip of his cock. He tilted his head back and grunted, gently pushing your mouth off him from the overwhelming feeling of him edging closer and closer to his release.

“Fuck, I don’t want to cum like this…I need to be inside you…I need you to take what’s yours and ride me–show me how much you own this cock, this body, all of me…” He begged, his other hand coming down to cup the side of your cheek, wiping the saliva off your lips, as you sucked the tip of his thumb into your mouth for a moment, before letting it go.

”You need my pussy that badly, huh?” You teased, your voice a sultry purr, drawing out his exquisite torture, watching his golden eyes darken, pupils blowing wide with need. He let out a low grunt, his thumb smearing the slick trail of saliva across your bottom lip in a possessive swipe, marking you even in that small way.

”I always do…Now get up here and claim your throne,” He drawled, his tone a velvet command wrapped in surrender, his hands finding their way to your thighs, his thumbs tracing the inner curves as if mapping sacred ground. You leaned forward one last time, pressing a lingering kiss to the sensitive underside of his cock, feeling it twitch against your lips, before flicking your tongue out in a final teasing lick that drew a hiss from him.

”Can’t resist a request like that,” You murmured, sitting back on your heels and hooking your fingers into the waistband of your soaked panties. With a deliberate shimmy, you peeled them down your legs, the cool air kissing your exposed core and sending a fresh shiver through you as you kicked them off the side of the bed in a careless fling. Climbing back atop him, you straddled his hips once more, his large hands immediately rising to grip your waist, his damp palms molding to the supple flesh with a knead that was both tender and demanding, his touch grounding you even as it ignited sparks along the surface.

You glided yourself along the rigid length of him, your slick folds parting to coat his shaft in your arousal, the intimate slide creating a delicious friction that had you both gasping. Your hands rested flat on his abdomen, fingers splaying over the taut ridges of muscle that twitched and flexed beneath your palms, responding to your every shift like a living canvas under an artist’s brush. Grinding against him with slow, hypnotic rolls, you felt his fingers dig deeper into your skin, his nails leaving faint crescent marks as he fought to restrain the surge of power bubbling within. His eyes dropped to where your bodies teased connection, mesmerized by the glistening sight–the pearl of his precum mingling with your wetness in a slick, erotic sheen that caught the ethereal glow from his skin, turning the union into something almost otherworldly.

Leaning forward, you captured his mouth in a kiss that burned with intimacy, tongues tangling in a slow, sensual dance, tasting the remnants of each other’s desire as your breaths mingled in hot, shared exhales. Your hand slipped down between you, fingers wrapping around his throbbing cock to position him at your entrance, the blunt tip nudging against your slick heat. With a deliberate ease, you sank your hips down, the initial stretch an exquisite burn that blossomed into fullness, his girth filling you inch by inch, molding your walls around him like a perfect sheath, every ridge and vein pressing against your sensitive nerves.

You pulled back from the kiss just enough to find the tender flesh of his neck, biting down gently as you took more of him, sucking and licking the salt-kissed skin, leaving a blooming mark of possession that mirrored the ones he’d given you on your body.

”Mmm, fuck, Sentry,” You whimpered against him, the vibration of your words humming into his pulse as his hands urged your hips lower, guiding you to envelop him completely. It was a languid descent, your breaths syncing with each inch claimed–his chest rising as yours fell, a rhythmic harmony that deepened the connection, his cock pulsing and twitching inside you like a living heartbeat, stretching you to that blissful edge where fullness teetered on ecstasy. Until finally, the head nudged against the spongy barrier of your cervix, seated deep, complete.

“Want to see you… all of you,” He whispered, his voice rough with awe, one hand trailing up your spine in a caress that spoke of his profound care, his love a quiet force that elevated you above all else in his world.

You obliged, sitting up fully to display yourself–breasts heaving with each breath, skin sweat slicked and glowing in his light, your body a temple he revered. Taking a moment to adjust, your walls squeezed around him instinctively, a velvet vice that drew a shared, breathless laugh from you both, the sound light amid the heavy air, underscoring the joy woven into your passion.

Then you began rolling your hips, a fluid rhythm that built like a tide, moans spilling from your lips in tandem with his grunts and gasps, the room filling with the vocal symphony of your union. He watched, transfixed, eyes locked on where you connected–his cock sliding in and out of you, glistening with your combined essence, the hypnotic sway of your movements drawing him deeper into surrender. His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging in with bruising intensity, claiming you even as he submitted.

One hand ventured upward, cupping your breast with a stiff firmness, his thumb circling your peaked nipple as you arched into his touch, your own hand covering his, pressing him closer in a silent plea. Tilting your head back, you rode him with abandon, dragging your clit against his pelvis in deliberate grinds that layered electric sparks onto the relentless drag of his cock against your g-spot. He thrust up to meet you, sinking deeper, the angle sending shockwaves through your core, his love evident in every controlled surge, and every gasp of your name that sounded like a prayer when it fell from his lips.

With a guttural grunt, he sat up in one seamless motion, his strength effortless, lips crashing against yours to muffle your surprised gasp, the kiss a fierce melding of souls. His thrusts quickened from below, his hand squeezing your breast again, pinching the nipple to elicit sharp cries from you, before he flipped you both in a blur of motion, settling atop you without breaking rhythm. Blissed out and pliant, you surrendered to him, uncaring of positions at this point because all you wanted was for him to fill you over and over again.

His hands slid down to your legs, coaxing them higher against his torso, and you locked your heels at the small of his back, securing the angle that allowed him to plunge deeper. His touch roamed after–tracing your sides, cupping your face–as he whispered against your mouth, “You feel so fucking perfect around me…I’d burn worlds for this–for you.” The words were sweet filth, hot and overwhelming to your senses as he sealed his message with a devouring kiss that left you breathless. His thrusts grew harder, faster, the slap of skin against skin echoing like thunder, veins in his neck pulsing with that golden glow, power simmering just beneath.

”“Shit…Sentry, you’re going to make me cum again,” You whined, raking your nails down his back, in an attempt to mark him up.

“Good… soak the sheets, soak me,” He moaned in reply, nipping your earlobe, as his movements shifted to deeper, drawn-out drags, his pelvis grinding against your clit with each push. Your back arched off the bed, the coil snapping as ecstasy crashed through you, walls clenching in pulsing waves, arousal gushing around him in a hot flood. He clenched his jaw at the sight, eyes snapping shut as overwhelm hit, one hand reaching up to grip the headboard for leverage. Thrusts turned punishing, the bedframe squeaking in frantic protest, until his release barreled through–veins flashing brilliant gold, a surge of power escaping as he sank into you completely, ropes of hot cum painting your depths in thick, claiming spurts. Wood splintered with a deafening crack, the headboard crunching in his grasp as the bedframe buckled, and the mattress shifting abruptly with a thud.

You were so blissed out, floating in a haze of euphoric afterglow, that the destruction barely registered at first–the sharp crack of wood splintering, the faint rain of debris scattering across the sheets like confetti from a burst piñata. But then the acrid, earthy scent of freshly broken timber wafted through the air, cutting through the musk of sweat and sex, pulling you back to reality just enough to realize your mission had failed spectacularly. Another bed frame reduced to rubble, the mattress now sagging unevenly beneath you, a testament to the uncontrollable force of his passion.

Sentry panted heavily, his chest heaving against yours as he released the mangled remnants of the headboard, the splintered wood crumbling from his grip like dry leaves. He collapsed forward with a soft, almost sheepish groan, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as if seeking refuge from his own embarrassment, his wavy light brown hair tickling your skin. His powerful muscles–still radiating that inner solar warmth–twitched and spasmed uncontrollably against you, aftershocks rippling through his veins like echoes of a storm, his body a live wire humming with residual energy. The subtle glow in his veins faded slowly, like embers cooling after a blaze, but his hold on you remained firm, protective, as if you were the anchor keeping him from drifting into the ether.

You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, fingers threading into the damp strands at the nape of his neck, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse slowing under your touch. He mirrored the gesture, slipping his strong arms beneath your back to cradle you fully against him, his embrace a cocoon of warmth and security. With effortless grace–his superhuman strength making the motion seamless–he rolled you both onto your sides, keeping himself buried deep inside you, the intimate connection unbroken, a quiet affirmation of his reluctance to part even in repose. The scattered wood fragments on the bed grazed your skin like rough whispers, tiny pricks that contrasted with the velvet heat of his body pressed flush to yours, but he drew you closer still, his breath steadying as he inhaled the mingled scents of your release–sweet vanilla intertwined with his clean, solar musk–plunging him into a profound, contented haze where the world narrowed to just the two of you.

As awareness crept back, his golden eyes fluttered open slowly, the molten shimmer within them softening from feral hunger to tender adoration as they met yours. You were already gazing at him, tracing the familiar lines of his face–the faint stubble shadowing his jaw, the tousled waves framing his ethereal features–with a mix of amusement and affection. His gaze roamed over you in return, drinking in the flush on your cheeks, the sweat-dampened strands of your hair, until it caught on a few errant splinters tangled in the locks. With infinite gentleness, he reached up, his fingers–still trembling faintly from exertion–plucking one piece free, holding it up between you like a guilty trophy as you let out a resigned sigh, the wood’s rough texture catching the dim light.

“I wonder what my neighbors think about me putting multiple bed frames out for the garbage truck every month…” You murmured, your voice a blend of exasperation and wry humor, watching as he examined the shard for a moment before flicking it aside with a casual toss, his cheeks blooming with a subtle flush of embarrassment that made him look almost boyish despite his godlike form.

“They probably think you have anger issues…Or you test the sturdiness of bed frames for a living,” He joked, his low timbre laced with self-deprecating warmth, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against you, coaxing a small, genuine giggle from your lips. He leaned in, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to the line of your jaw, his lips lingering there as if savoring the salt of your skin, before nuzzling back into the crook of your neck, his breath warm and steady, a silent apology wrapped in affection.

“Honestly, I think if a job like that exists, I might as well take it,” you quipped, your fingers idly tracing patterns along his back, feeling the subtle play of muscles still quivering under your touch. “At this rate, we’re going to have to start a savings account specifically for bed frame replacements.” He hummed thoughtfully against your skin, the vibration sending a pleasant tingle down your spine, his arms tightening around you in a protective squeeze–the way he held you like you were his most precious constant in a chaotic universe.

“Or…We buy a metal bed frame instead,” He suggested, his voice muffled but earnest, lifting his head just enough to meet your eyes again, those golden depths gleaming with a mix of mischief and genuine concern for your shared predicament. You let out a light laugh, the sound bubbling up like champagne, as you tilted your head to nip playfully at his shoulder.

“Yeah? And what happens if your powers suddenly start to melt it? We’re going to have a headboard with hand-shaped indentations on it, like some weird modern art piece.” His embrace tightened further, drawing you impossibly closer, his body molding to yours in a perfect fit, and he shrugged with a soft chuckle, the motion shifting him ever so slightly inside you, a gentle reminder of your lingering connection.

“Better than wood breaking all over the place and the mattress falling through the frame,” He retorted, his tone playful, his fingers tracing lazy circles along your spine as if to soothe any lingering frustration. You sighed contentedly, the warmth of his body seeping into yours, chasing away the minor annoyance of the ruined furniture.

“I guess you’re right…” Your words trailed off into a soft murmur, and he let out a little laugh, triumphant yet tender, pressing one final kiss to your temple.