She’s so warm around his cock, warm and wet and tight, and Bucky lets out a shuddering breath as he bottoms out and rests there for a moment, just to revel in the sensation of being inside of her. His eyes dip to the necklace, a gleaming silver dagger resting against glistening, pale skin. It’s a cheap trinket, nothing of high quality, but it means the world for Bucky to see it there.
Because no matter how euphoric being inside of her body is, it’s nothing compared to how good it feels to know that she’s let him into her heart. She took down the walls enough for him to crawl inside, made space for him there, and he knows just how hard that was for her, and how special that makes him. Bucky knows, because he’s done exactly the same for her.
He reaches between them and slides his hands up her chest, between her breasts, and then takes the pendant between his thumb and forefinger. He tugs at it hard enough for her to feel the pressure of it against the back of her neck, but not enough to break the chain. He uses that hold to drag her into another deep, sensual kiss, and then lets go of the chain to take her hand instead, one and then the other, lifting them over her head and holding both of her slender wrists in his metal hand.
She’s stretched out at his mercy, because Bucky remembers what she asked him for. She wants him to take control, and even though they’re madly in love, he doesn’t have to be gentle right now. She doesn’t want him to be gentle. So he isn’t.
He holds her hands above her head and fucks her hard, rolling his hips and sinking his cock into her with quick, deep thrusts as he stares down at her face. She’s stretched out and wrapped around him, letting herself get fucked hard enough that the dagger pendant bounces a little on her chest with each thrust, and Bucky is absolutely enraptured.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, knowing full well that normally such a thing might get him understandably smacked, but it’s different during sex. In bed, specifically with them, Bucky eats up praise that would normally make him uncomfortable. “You’re so good for me.”
And he means it. She isn’t good because she listens to him, or behaves, or anything like that. She’s good for him. She’s a beautiful, chaotic light in his life, and she’s a good thing. She’s so fucking good, and he wants her to know it.
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Because no matter how euphoric being inside of her body is, it’s nothing compared to how good it feels to know that she’s let him into her heart. She took down the walls enough for him to crawl inside, made space for him there, and he knows just how hard that was for her, and how special that makes him. Bucky knows, because he’s done exactly the same for her.
He reaches between them and slides his hands up her chest, between her breasts, and then takes the pendant between his thumb and forefinger. He tugs at it hard enough for her to feel the pressure of it against the back of her neck, but not enough to break the chain. He uses that hold to drag her into another deep, sensual kiss, and then lets go of the chain to take her hand instead, one and then the other, lifting them over her head and holding both of her slender wrists in his metal hand.
She’s stretched out at his mercy, because Bucky remembers what she asked him for. She wants him to take control, and even though they’re madly in love, he doesn’t have to be gentle right now. She doesn’t want him to be gentle. So he isn’t.
He holds her hands above her head and fucks her hard, rolling his hips and sinking his cock into her with quick, deep thrusts as he stares down at her face. She’s stretched out and wrapped around him, letting herself get fucked hard enough that the dagger pendant bounces a little on her chest with each thrust, and Bucky is absolutely enraptured.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, knowing full well that normally such a thing might get him understandably smacked, but it’s different during sex. In bed, specifically with them, Bucky eats up praise that would normally make him uncomfortable. “You’re so good for me.”
And he means it. She isn’t good because she listens to him, or behaves, or anything like that. She’s good for him. She’s a beautiful, chaotic light in his life, and she’s a good thing. She’s so fucking good, and he wants her to know it.