Mo

"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."

Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with so many important people there. The mayor will be there. One of the state senators."

You scoffed. "Why am I going? I'm no one special."

"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."

"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.

Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. The soft mask of golden sequins fit over your eyes. 

Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of the name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.

"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.

"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."

You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"

"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 

You smiled. Scott going had little to do with keeping you and Steve safe and everything to do with spending time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena was aware of Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But in the time you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena too.

But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all she'd been through?

You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know I'm ready."

"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 

Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.

Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 

"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."

"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."

Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.

"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out to dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."

You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.

But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 

Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories about the business and how other families operated you heard now were just horrific. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.

It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.

"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver. A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.

And still that little kernel of dread lingered.

You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like a princess. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 

"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."

Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping for it. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion. You would learn. Until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.

As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.

Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."

"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.

You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.

"You know I will," he muttered.

Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Its glossy, jet-black exterior reflected the fading sunlight with a mirror-like finish. The long, streamlined body stretched gracefully, its tinted windows offering privacy and adding to its air of mystery. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.

"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 

Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

You couldn't help the smile the question brought on. "Yes."

Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a princess tonight."

Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes at his heartfelt words. He meant them. He was taking you out to a society function, dressed you up like you were going to the fucking Oscars. A night out like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You'd been excited since he told you he got the tickets a few weeks ago.

"There are going to be a lot of people there, sweetheart," Steve explained quietly. "I'm sure Belova went over everything with you. But I need you to listen. You are going to be with me at all times. If you're not with me, you'll be with Belova and Lang. No wandering off to talk to people or sightsee. Okay?"

You nodded. Yelena had covered the plans thoroughly while she helped you get ready for the evening. 

"If I have to talk business for a moment, Belova will be with you. You have to go to the ladies' room, Belova will be with you," he continued. "Take it easy on the drinks. You're not used to alcohol and I need you vigilant tonight. We're going to have a wonderful time but..."

"I understand," you told him. "Besides, I don't want to miss any part of tonight because I'm drinking. It's my first masquerade ball. I'd like to enjoy every minute of it."

The smile Steve flashed you had your heart fluttering in your chest.

"There will be dancing, right?" you asked.

"Of course," he told you. 

"You'll dance with me?" Would Steve dance with you to a beautiful ballad or classic song?

Reaching over, he tipped up your chin with his fingers, his touch careful. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you when you smile at me like that. I love you."

"I love you, too." 

His lips were a teasing brush against your own but in seconds it deepened, filled with longing and need. 

The sharp wrap on the dark glass that separated the two of you in the back seat of the limo from Scott and Yelena up front scared you. Then the glass slid down just a couple of inches. 

"Later," Yelena admonished. "I worked too hard on her for this party, boss."

You froze thinking that was going to piss your husband off but he laughed. "Okay, sorry," he called back to her.

It made you happy. Ever since everything happened that day between your family and Barnes', your husband and your best friend got along a lot better. Steve was kinder to her, treated her with the same respect as he would any of the men in his employ. That being the case, Yelena felt comfortable enough to tease him about things like tonight. She worked hard on carefully picking her moments with him to tease. She did even better at being thoughtful when offering criticism or advice. The fact that they were getting along better just made your life easier.

"That's supposed to be privacy glass," he said, still grinning.

"Or she's just that good at her job." Honestly, she was.

"After the ball," Steve said once the privacy glass has slid back up, "I want you out of that dress. Especially if you want to keep it."

The sly warning had you grinning. "I would like to keep it. It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen."

"Noted," your husband said. "I'll do my best to contain myself until you get the gown to safety."

The heated looks he cut you the entire way into Boston made you wonder if he'd be able to. You couldn't wait to find out.

Once you reached the venue, you saw there was indeed an endless line of limos in the que leading up to the door. It moved surprisingly fast. Within ten minutes, Scott pulled up to the door and Yelena darted out to open the door for you. Before you could reach for her hand, Steve was there, helping you out of the back of the car with ease and ushering you up the carpeted stairs with Yelena behind you. The decorations and festive lighting dazzled you as you moved along on Steve's arm. The way the soft light reflected off the gown you wore made you feel like you were in a fairytale. 

Steve stopped and greeted more than a few gentlemen on the way into the venue. One man you recognized as a senator and the easy way the two men spoke had you curious. Did the senator know who Steve was? Were they old friends? For a moment, the two of them seemed to forget all going on around them. Just as quickly, the senator's gaze fell on you and the handsome older man smiled. 

"Is this your new bride?" the senator asked.

"She is," Steve replied, introducing you with obvious pride. You meant to shake the man's hand. He kissed the back of yours in an old fashioned gesture. You found him completely charming. 

"Have you been to the masquerade before?" the senator asked.

You shook your head. "This is my first one."

The man smiled. "I hope you enjoy tonight. If I get the chance, I'll introduce you to my wife. It's one of her favorite nights of the year."

"I'd like that," you told him. "It was nice to meet you."

Was it your imagination that Steve watched you with such wonder? Once his conversation with the senator ended, he led you further into the venue where the main ballroom was all prepared, looking like a view from a movie set. 

Clusters of elegant tables arranged in a wide horseshoe shape framed the dance floor, each adorned with lavish centerpieces sparkling beneath the soft glow of the majestic chandelier overhead. The chandelier's light cascaded down like a shimmering waterfall, casting a warm, golden hue over the room, making every surface gleam. A full bar stood ready, offering the finest drinks, while an orchestra played a symphony of enchanting melodies, weaving through the air like a spell. The room was a sea of Boston's political powerhouses, movie stars, and the wealthy elite, all dressed in exquisite gowns and tailored suits, their masks concealing only their identities—not their status. As you paused to take it all in, your husband's familiar warmth pressed against your back, grounding you in the moment as the dazzling scene unfolded before your eyes.

"What do you think?" Steve's whisper at your ear made you shiver.

"I love this," you told him with enthusiasm. "Thank you for bringing me tonight."

"You don't have to thank me." Your husband took your hand, looking like a tawny-haired prince in his tuxedo and black mask, and led you to the dance floor. Your surprise must have shown on your face because he laughed as he swept you into his arms at the edge of the dancing crowd and led you in an easy waltz.

Steve was a wonderful dancer much to your surprise. He led you with an easy grace that you delighted in and found easy to keep up with given your own love of dance. You knew you had to be staring at him but he kept you close, enjoying your surprise.

"When did you learn to dance like this?" you had to ask after he twirled you around gracefully. 

"It's not so hard," he said, his attention solely on you. "Not nearly as hard as your type of dancing."

Ballet was discipline but dancing a perfect waltz wasn't easy either. You were impressed. 

"Is this why you got us all dressed up?" you teased. "So you could show off your dancing skills?"

Steve chuckled. "Is there something wrong with wanting to have a magical night with your wife?"

You were delighted. But you knew it wasn't the only reason Steve brought you here. And now that you were involved in the family business, you weren't offended by the other reason the two of you were there.

Not long before he married you, Steve had acquired a prized property on the outskirts of Boston. He'd been so involved with marrying you and taking over the families he'd neglected it for a time. Now his attention was back on it, plans were being made to develop it. Together, you'd decided on an exclusive resort with fine dining, glitzy nightclubs, and a casino for the wealthy. It was a massive investment and to make it work, certain permits would need to be acquired. The senator and a few key businessmen there tonight could make or break the project that would expand your family's wealth. 

It was a very important night for Steve.

He'd be spending some time talking to these gentlemen tonight which is why Yelena and Scott were there, to keep you safe. You really didn't mind. You felt like Cinderella at the ball in the beautiful gown that flowed and captured the light with your movements as you danced with your husband among the wealthy citizens of the city. As the two of you moved through the dance, you caught a glimpse of Yelena, dressed in her dark suit and standing next to Scott, blending into the background. Your best friend's gaze never left you. Scott's never left her. You smiled, enjoying the beauty of the moment, dancing with your husband at your very first masquerade ball.

When the dance came to an end, it took you a moment to realize it. One of the musicians announced the band would take a short break and be back in just a few minutes. Steve's hand at your lower back urged you to turn. The senator making his way towards you with a lovely older lady at his side. 

The senator's wife was polished from head to toe. Her gown was bright pink layers of satin that matched her lipstick. Otherwise her white hair and face gave her a cold countenance, like she was an ice queen dressed for her best guess at spring. Her eyes were dark, small and mean as her gaze swept over you. The senator assured you that you and his wife would have plenty to talk about. As the woman stood there studying you with pursed lips, you decided talking to her probably wasn't the best idea.

Steve's gaze met yours and he nodded as he let the senator lead him away, leaving you with the judgy woman before you.

"This must be a special night for you," she said tartly.

Straightening your spine, you smiled. "Why is that?"

The woman's white brows rose slightly but a smile played about her lips. "You don't belong here."

"Excuse me?" You kept your smile in place.

"My father was a direct descendent from The Mayflower," she informed you. "We're practically royalty here. We built our fortune through hard work and our good name. You, on the other hand, come from poverty and crime. You father crawled out the shadows and robbed good people blind. That's why you have the money to play dress up and act like you belong here. We all know your husband fancies himself some sort of underworld prince. But he doesn't belong here either."

Oh, no, she didn't just put you and your husband down. Lifting your chin, you looked her in the eye.

"Your ancestors came over on a ship over four hundred years ago and nobody cares anymore," you told her. "You can pretend to be royalty, and tell yourself you made your money working hard and protecting your good name. But the sad truth is, your family made your money the same way mine did. In fact, your family probably paid mine to keep from getting your hands dirty or to protect your interests. And my husband is the king of Boston's underworld and so was my father before him. You may be someone in society right now, but your husband is currently anelected official. If you were smart, you'd spending a little more time being respectful."

Gracefully as you could manage, you turned your back to the rude woman and marched off. Yeah, maybe you hurt your husband's chances of getting the permits you needed for the project development once she talked to her husband. But you weren't about to put up with someone like that. 

You looked all around for Yelena. You were dying to tell her about the conversation you'd just had. But you weren't watching where you were going and you collided with someone hard.

And whoever he was, he caught you in his arms, sweeping you out onto the dance floor as another waltz began. He was as tall as your husband and the scent of his expensive cologne was familiar. You realized who held you a beat before he spoke, a low purr by your ear.

"Did you miss me, beautiful?"

Barnes.

Easing back, you glanced up at your uninvited dancing partner, wearing an aura of allure and danger with ease. Barnes' chiseled jawline was partially obscured by the intricately designed black mask he wore, adorned with silver accents catching the light. Those steely-blue eyes were shadowed but still piercing, glinting with a cold intensity as his gaze met yours.

His tuxedo was entirely black and tailored to perfection, hugging his muscular frame effortlessly. His attire seemed to absorb the light, creating a sense that he came from the shadows. Even his shirt was dark onyx, subtle embroidery only revealing itself when he moved. And he felt strong as he held you, solid and healed.

Stop staring at the man and answer.

"I haven't thought about you at all," you told him, trying to sound nonchalant but not quite hitting that note.

As much as you hated to admit it, Barnes was undeniably handsome. From the way his hair was slicked back with precision to the confident smirk curling his lips, the man was... magnetic. But there was a sinister edge beneath the polished surface. There always had been. Barnes' posture was too poised, his movements too calculated. Every inch of him whispered danger, a wolf in the presence of unsuspecting lambs.

Pulling you close to him, Barnes chuckled. "I don't believe that. I think you I live rent free in that beautiful head of yours."

"Maybe," you said, feeling his smile widen. "I do think about how I wished we'd used more poison."

Now he laughed, a deep rich sound. "I don't doubt that."

"What do you want?" You looked anywhere but at him. Still, you were so focused on the predator that held you, you weren't really seeing your surroundings. The music, the lights, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

"What do you think I want?" Barnes asked.

As Barnes swept you around the floor, your mind scrambled for a comeback. "Your hands around my throat," you said, going with honesty. "And me dead?"

Leaning in, he ran his nose gently up the column of your neck, making you shiver. "Oh, I did. I really did. And I could have made that happen."

You were dangerously close to having him think he had the upper hand here. "No, you couldn't."

Again, he chuckled. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" Releasing you only long enough to spin you in the dance, he pulled you back into him tightly. "You made peace with your husband. You're now involved in the family business. I would call Steve a pussy for even thinking about that if it were any other woman. But you're not just any woman. But you're special."

You missed a step in your alarm. How the hell did Barnes know you were in the all the family business meetings now? And that you and Steve had made peace? The questions triggered your anxiety, reminding you of the days early in your marriage when Neal had been Barnes' rat and you were always looking over your shoulder. Was someone else talking to Barnes?

"A long time ago, your mother seduced my father," Barnes whispered. "She tore my family apart. And when you came along and you weren't the poor disfigured little girl we were told you were, I assumed you were a little whore like your mother. You look almost exactly like her. Has anyone told you that?"

You didn't answer, trying hard to put a little space between the two of you. Where was Steve? It wouldn't be too conspicuous if he broke in on the dance. If Yelena or Scott came to save you, it could create a scene and unwanted attention. 

"I even thought maybe, horrible thought I know," Barnes went on, "that you might be my half-sister. But it didn't take me long to realize that wasn't true either. Besides, that devious little mind in there, hidden behind all that beauty? You didn't get that from your mother. Or my father."

"What's it to you?" you snapped at him, trying to pull off pissed even though you held anger and fear in equal measure. "I'm Steve's wife. He's your boss. You'd do well to remember that."

Barnes was unfazed. "You're Steve's wife. For now. But he can't handle you." Barnes leaned closer, his gaze locking with yours. "You should belong to someone stronger."

Now you really were getting pissed. "I don't need you or any man, including my husband, to tell me who I am and what I should be doing," you said.

"You may be right," he purred. "But it's that attitude, that fire. It got me thinking... I had the wrong idea about you from the beginning. Yeah, all the bitterness from the past clouded my judgment for a while. I wanted you dead and buried next to your loser husband." When you tried to pull free of him, he tightened his grip. His grin widened. "Now I realize you're exactly what I need."

"For what?" You didn't know how much of your glare he got from behind your mask.

"To finally take my rightful place," he said as if it were gospel. "The position occupied by your current husband."

Current husband? Who the fuck did he think he was?

"Our children will be kings and queens," Barnes went on. "That dynasty would rule Boston for decades."

"My children with Steve will rule Boston," you told him angrily. "And when we're done with you, no one will even remember the Barnes family."

"One day," he said with meaning, leaning closer, "you'll be mine."

Despite yourself, you shivered. Barnes caught it.

"You want me too," he whispered. "I'll make you admit it."

As the song neared its end, you were prepared to do whatever you had to do to get away from the bastard, the man who'd done so much damage to your family. As the last strains of the symphony ended, Barnes released you to bow. You did curtsy to him, then you straightened.

"I will never be yours." You meant it with every fibre of your being. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my husband."

Barnes' grin didn't fade. "Better find a way to keep him safe."

You spun on your heel, marching off the dance floor. You needed air, and a moment to calm down. You were blinking back tears, you were that angry. You felt someone on your heels as you made you way out of the main event room out ornate glass doors left open. It was chilly out there but you welcomed it, fighting back anger.

"Are you okay?" Yelena asked, her hand at your back as you gripped the railing and hung on. 

"No, I'm not... o-fucking-kay," you said, trying to regain your composure. "He came out of nowhere."

"He did," Yelena said. "He got to you so quickly after you talked to the senator's wife."

"Where's Steve?" you asked.

"Talking very intently to the senator," she replied. "It appears to be going well."

You had to wonder if that would still be true once the senator's wife caught a moment to tell her husband and your little "talk."

But you had bigger problems right now. Barnes.

"Barnes is all healed up," you told her. Looking beyond her, you saw Scott by the entranceway back into the ball. "And he's got big plans."

"He wants you," Yelena said it. "That much was obvious. It gives me some idea of his plans."

You nodded. "Don't say anything to Steve or Scott right now. I just want to find a glass of champagne to take the edge off and get through the rest of the ball."

With any luck, you could maybe enjoy one more magical dance with Steve before the evening ended.

You couldn't, however, complain. You wanted to be in on the family business and this was part of it. Barnes, unfortunately, was also part of it.  And he'd just announced his intentions to you and you realized now it was the pit that had been in your stomach the entire evening. 

Barnes would keep tearing your life apart until he was stopped. Somehow between his drastic plans and the animosity between you and your husband, you'd found your way to a happy marriage. A path to be queen in this world. And you'd be damned if you let Barnes threaten that future.

"You're going to tell Steve, right?" 

"I am." You didn't miss the concern in Yelena's voice. "I'm telling all of you. But not here."

Nodding her agreement, Yelena watched as you straightened, steeled yourself to return to the event. 

"Let's find you a glass of champagne, boss," she said with a wink.

Boss? Now that put the smile back on your face. 

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking you love,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

The mission had gone sideways in a way that left Steve Rogers simmering with frustration. He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, a foreign sensation that made his chest tight and his thoughts cloudy. You had gone against his direct orders, putting yourself in danger—again—and it had pushed Steve to his breaking point.

As you stood in your private cabin, both your voices echoing off the walls, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer.

“You had no right to do that, Y/N!” Steve’s voice cut through the air like a blade, sharper and louder than you’d ever heard it.

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you fought back with all your frustration. "I made that call because it was the right thing to do! I was not going to allow those people to die just because you were excessively consumed with following the agenda!

Steve’s fists clenched at his sides, his muscles taut with barely restrained anger. “This isn’t about saving lives—it’s about you ignoring direct orders! You put yourself in danger, and you compromised the entire mission! You can’t just act on impulse and expect everything to work out!”

As he felt feelings he wasn't accustomed to expressing, his normally composed demeanor began to crumble under the strain of mounting aggravation. It frightened him that he could feel his grip weakening. He had never been so furious with you before; the level of intensity was nearly too much to bear.

You stepped closer, refusing to back down. “I thought about it! I knew exactly what I was doing, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat! You’re the one who doesn’t get it! You’re so obsessed with being in control that you can’t stand it when someone else makes a decision!”

“This isn’t about control, Y/N! This is about you thinking you know better than everyone else! You think you’re invincible, but you’re not! One day, your recklessness is going to get you in serious trouble and then what? How are we supposed to deal with that?” Steve’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as the anger threatened to spill over. 

Your eyes narrowed, your voice rising in anger matching his. “You’re the one who’s supposed to trust me! But you don’t! You can’t stand it when things don’t go according to your plan, so you lash out at me like I’m some kind of liability!”

Steve took a step closer, the space between you charged with tension. “I trust you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and watch you throw yourself into danger without a second thought! You didn’t see how close you came, Y/N. You didn’t see what I saw!”

“What you saw?” you shot back, your voice shaking with emotion. “You’re always trying to shield me from things, Steve, but you can’t keep doing that! I’m not a child! I’m your partner, and that means you have to let me make my own choices, even if they scare you!”

As Steve struggled to control the flood of emotions that were about to overflow, his breaths came in short, quick bursts and his palms quivered. 

“You think I’m trying to control you? I’m trying to keep you alive! I’m trying to make sure that you come back, every single time! But you… you don’t think about what that does to me.”

“And what about what it does to me? Every time you go off on some mission, every time you put yourself in danger without thinking about the consequences, do you know what that does to me? Do you?”

Steve’s face twisted with frustration, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “I do know. I know because I feel it too, every time you do something reckless, every time you make a decision that could get you. . .” He couldn’t  say the word, “And it terrifies me, Y/N. It terrifies me because one day, I might not be there to save you.”

Even though he looks angry, worry is visible in his eyes. You tightened your jaw because you were at a loss for words to respond to him.

Steve pivoted and stomped out of the room before you had a chance to reply. He had to escape for a moment to collect himself before he spoke a word he would regret. Heading directly for the woodpile, he stepped outside, his breath coming in quick, angry bursts.

By the time you caught up with him, Steve was already there, his jacket discarded on the ground. He grabbed the axe with a force that sent a jolt of pain through his arm, but he welcomed it. He needed to feel something physical, something tangible to anchor him in the midst of the storm raging inside him.

Without hesitation, he began chopping. The axe came down with a powerful swing, the wood splitting cleanly in half. But it wasn’t enough. The anger was still there, burning hot and fierce in his chest, so he swung again. And again. And again.

These pent-up emotions had been growing for weeks, if not months, and it was evident in every swing. The fear that he would lose you, the frustration that you didn’t seem to understand how much he cared, how much it hurt to see you risking your life time and time again. He was feeling helpless and that his only option was to keep chopping, to redirect his wrath onto something that wouldn't harm you or ruin everything both had built together.

Steve reached for yet another thick log, this one feeling rock-solid and unmoveable. None of that mattered. His muscles tensed as he lifted the axe above his head, and he lowered it with such power that the wood splintered. Although he felt the hit all over, it failed to provide him with the relief he had hoped for. He was being torn apart by the rage that remained dormant, just below the surface.

“So this is it? You’re just going to chop wood until the problem disappears?” Amidst the steady clack of the axe on wood, your irritated, sharp voice sliced through the air.

Steve didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The overwhelming wave of feelings he couldn't articulate washed over him, leaving him unable to speak. He swung the axe again, harder this time, as if he could somehow chop away everything he felt.

But then, a switch went off in his brain. That axe wasn't cutting it. He needed more—he needed to break something with his own hands, to feel the physical release of the anger that was consuming him.

He snatched up yet another log, this one heavier and thicker than the rest. His hands, still trembling with fury, gripped the log tightly. His muscles bulged as he poured all his anger, all his frustration, into his grip.

“Steve, talk to me! You can’t just—”

But before you could finish, Steve let out a low, guttural roar and pulled at the log with all his might. The wood resisted at first, but Steve was relentless. His biceps strained, his veins standing out against his skin, and with a deafening crack, the log gave way. He tore it in half with his bare hands, the wood splintering under the sheer force of his strength.

The pieces fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the sound almost drowned out by the ringing in your ears. You stood there, frozen, your breath caught in your throat as you watched Steve’s display of raw power. It was terrifying—seeing him so close to the edge, so consumed by anger—but it was also something else, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

You were genuinely scared by his actions just now. The shock that he could lose control, that he could be so driven by his feelings, was a stark reminder of how much he cared, how deeply he felt. But alongside that shock was a rush of something primal, something that made your pulse quicken and your cheeks flush.

You shouldn’t have found it attractive—this display of strength—but you did. Seeing Steve like this, so powerful, so intense—he never bragged about his power, and it stirred something inside you that you couldn’t deny. Your body reacts before your mind could catch up, a rush of heat flooding your senses.

Steve turned to face you, his chest still heaving, his eyes blazing. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?” His voice was rough, almost broken. “That I’m okay with you going off on your own and putting yourself so close to death? Because I’m not!”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You could see the chaos in his eyes. It made your heart ache. To him it didn’t matter if you were one of the best agents out there because he knew how life is so fragile, he knew because he's been around for ages—you forget that sometimes his cellular age is not twenty-seven.

For now, both of you stood there, the tension thick and suffocating, wrapping around you like an iron vice.

You took a shaky breath, the sound of it almost deafening in the quiet that had fallen between you. You knew you should say something, anything, to defuse the situation. But your throat felt tight, and the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to reconcile the man you love with the fury that had just been unleashed.

Steve’s chest heaved with each breath, his fists still clenched at his sides. He didn't know how to come down from the brink he'd been driven to, didn’t know how to deal with the mix of relief and frustration that you were standing in front of him, unharmed but defiant. 

His mind raced with the images of what could have happened, what might have happened if he hadn’t been there to pull you out of the fire. The thought was enough to make his vision blur with a fresh wave of anger and fear.

“I can’t lose you, Y/N,” Steve finally managed to say, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “Do you understand that? I can’t. I don’t know what I’d do if something happens to you.” 

Your breath hitched, your heart hurt at the openness in his voice, and the urgent plea cut through your barriers. You knew how much he cared—how deeply he felt everything—but hearing it, seeing it in the way his hands shook, in the way his eyes were filled with unshed tears, made it impossible to stay mad.

Driven by a surge of emotion you couldn't contain, you briskly walked towards him. Steve kept his gaze glued onto you, anticipating your next move. In an instant, you closed the distance between you, your body moving on instinct alone. 

You leaped up, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, your hands fisting in his hair as you pulled him down into a kiss that was searing, desperate, and filled with every ounce of the fire that had fueled the argument.

His kiss was intoxicating. You pressed yourself against him, your body molding to his as you deepened the kiss, your mouth moving against his lips with a fervor.

You could feel the tension in his muscles, the heat radiating from his skin, and it only made you want him more, made you kiss him harder, as if you could imprint yourself on him, claim him in a way that left no room for doubt.

Steve's grip on you was bruising as his hands found your hips, pulling you even closer, his own body responding to the intensity of the moment. He angled his head, deepening the kiss further, your tongues clashing in a dance that was as much about dominance as it was about the overwhelming need to feel connected.

You let out a soft moan, the sound vibrating between you, spurring you both on. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you couldn't get enough. You shifted against him, your hips pressing into his, feeling the undeniable evidence of his desire for you, and it sent a jolt of heat through your entire body.

When you finally broke apart, it wasn't because you wanted to, but because you both had to breathe. Your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling, both of them trembling from the force of what had just happened. 

Your breathing was ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked into Steve's eyes, blue like the ocean but filled with fire. The air between you crackled with an electric tension, the heat of your shared desire still burning hot.

“I’m still mad at you. Chopping wood was not enough,” Steve whispered his voice rough, “I hope you're prepared for that.”

“Try me.” You replied breathily against his lips. 

Steve didn't need any more encouragement.

When he reached the back-door, he didn’t hesitate. With a powerful kick, he busted it open, the door slamming against the wall with a force that echoed through the room and shook walls.

Steve's hands gripped you firmly as he turned, pinning you against the nearest wall, his body pressing onto yours, the solid weight of him making you gasp. His mouth found yours again, and the kiss, filled with intensity that left you both dizzy, desperate for more.

You could feel the way his body responded to your every touch, every kiss. Your hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the hard muscle, needing to hold on, to anchor yourself against the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

Steve's grip on you tightened, his hands sliding from your hips to your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer. He pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his breath hot against your skin, making you shiver. The sensation sent a wave of heat rushing through you, igniting every nerve in your body.

“Y/N…” Steve's voice was low, a rough whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. You could feel the restrained tension in him, the way his body was coiled like a spring, ready to snap. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

Shit. He swore. Now you know you're in deep trouble—and it excites you. You tightened your legs around his waist, leaning into him as you captured his lips once more, this time with even more intensity, more urgency.

Steve responded immediately, his mouth moving against yours in a kiss that was possessive. His hands roamed over your back, his touch firm, grounding you as you lost yourself in the taste of him. His touch ignited a trail of fire everywhere.

He pushes the hem of your shirt above your head and pulls off your black tee shirt, tossing it aside like it was nothing, exposing your bare breast, then his mouth devours you. He suckles and licks urgently, opening his mouth wider to envelop nearly your whole breast. It’s as if he wants to taste every inch of your skin all at once.

You moaned and arched your back, which thrusts your breast against his face, causing your fleshy mound to squeeze against him and bulge out at the sides. 

His hand, rugged and calloused from years of relentless work, moved with purposeful intent to the other. He gripped your breast firmly and began to knead, applying a rough pressure on your flesh.

You squeeze his shoulders, grasping at the starched cotton of his shirt. It feels manly under your palms. Your mouth drops open when the shape of his hard cock lines up perfectly against you, applying a delicious pressure you desperately need. 

“Oh my—Steve. . .”

Any self-preservation you've been holding on to evaporates at the feel of his hot length, and your hips tilt into him on their own. 

You groan simultaneously at the much-needed friction. His scent, his rough groans, the tight hold of his large hands, the stab of his hot tongue—everything about Steve is strong, hard, domineering, and so deliciously male. 

His mouth leaves your breast whispering into your ear, “Are you going to disobey me again?”

“I can't promise you that I won't.” You try to pull back and drop your legs, but he grips your thighs, holding them open, and presses his bulging cock onto you.

He loved the way you looked, the way you reacted, and he loved everything about you. You were the most precious thing in the world to him. So beautiful, so sweet, so giving and too damn good for him, but he was a selfish bastard and wouldn’t let you go.

Ever.

His breath fans over your neck, and he whispers dangerously. “That so?”

You didn’t notice how you both ended up in the bedroom until he shoved you toward the bed, because you found yourself falling onto it, the descent feeling agonizingly slow.

Your head turned sideways just as it was about to collide with the mattress, but you were too shocked to react, too numb to fight back against what was unfolding.

Steve moved with a swift, commanding presence, leaping onto the bed and straddling your torso with an authority that pinned you down. His shirt was already on the floor when you met his eyes—dark, angry. A side of him you're seeing for the first time in the bedroom.

His muscles are swollen from chopping all that wood and splitting one in half with his hands. His abs were a testament to the discipline and strength he had cultivated over the years. The six-pack was not just defined but chiseled, each muscle distinct and firm beneath the taut skin. 

He pushed your thigh open with his knee, his palm grazing from your stomach, between the valleys of your breasts, stopping at where your collar bone meets the base of your neck. 

All of your focus is on its path, and you quiver when his thumb now brushes the bottom curve of your breast. 

“This is mine.” He twists your nipple, sending shards of electricity tumbling through you, and you buck against him, lust completely taking over all your senses. 

“Yes,” You gasp and roll your hips, willing to say anything he wants to get him to continue touching you, searching for the right position to hit your clit with the head of his cock, desperate for more.

His chuckles tickle the sensitive shell of your ear, and a shiver runs through you as the sharp ridges of his teeth gently close on the soft earlobe. “Such a good girl all of a sudden?”

He drags his hand down your body, exploring it like he’s mapping every inch of you by touch alone. He forces your jeans off, almost ripping it in the process.

His thumb grazes your clit through your underwear, and a pained cry escapes your lips. He craves knowing the sounds you'll make as he drives his cock hard inside you. He'd make you beg for more until you scream out his name as he sear himself into your soul.

“Do you know what good girls get, Y/N?” He slides under the thin fabric and circles the spot you need him the most. “Good girls get to come.” 

“Please,” you beg. Every molecule of your being is focused on his fingers. The weight of the air around you compresses until it’s hard to suck in your next breath. Tension radiates as you wait for what happens next. His touch is the only thing that matters.

He shifts you so he can reach lower, sliding wet fingers through your slit, then circling your entrance. You whimper his name as he sinks two fingers inside you. 

“Look at you, soaked for me. Ready. This pussy knows she’s mine.” His voice is a dark rumble as he pumps his fingers in and out in a slow, torturous rhythm.

“I need more,” you grind out through your teeth.

“Take it. Fuck my fingers,” he orders you against your ear and loosens his hold to allow you to take control. 

You wrap your arm around his neck, leveraging yourself, and grip his hair as you work yourself on his fingers. 

Steve’s breath comes out in hot pants against your jaw, and he bites down on the edge at the same time his palm massages your clit. You forget to breathe as you rock against him, your head buzzing with the lack of oxygen.

“Oh yes, right there.” You gasped.

“That’s my pretty little pussy, fucking herself so well.” He adds another finger, and your world goes blank. All that’s left are his commands. “Come for me.”

Tingles shoot up your spine as your entire body pulls tight, and then your orgasm crashes over you in shuddering waves. “Steve.”

He pumps every last ounce of your release, his hands glistening. “That’s it. Say my name.” 

“Steve,” You say, barely a whisper.

He withdraws his finger then and lifts his hand to your face, pressing his finger against your lips. It’s the same finger that was just inside you. 

“Suck it,” he orders, and you obediently open your mouth, sucking the finger in. You can taste yourself, your own desire, and it makes you even more turned on. 

When he’s satisfied that the fingers are clean, he removes it from your mouth, grasping your chin with his hand instead, forcing you to meet his gaze, “I'm going to ask you again, are you going to disobey me?” 

You stare up at him, mesmerized by the dark blue striations in his irises. Your body is throbbing with need, desperately craving his possession. You want him to take you, to fill the aching emptiness within.

A smile of defiance crept on your lips as you cocked your head forward, “My answer remains that same.” 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.” he warns, voice low, and a tremble runs through you. 

Your instincts are on high alert, but you don’t try to pull away. You swallow hard. “What game?” 

“The one where you act like all has been put aside. That you don’t already know who you pissed off. Or do you need a reminder?” He shifts his grip and circles your neck with his fingers, resting them on your collarbone as a warning. 

Heat pours into your core, and your clit throbs. A low moan escapes you, and his smile turns dark. He pushes closer, bent so his breath fans against your mouth. 

“I’m going to spin you around and fuck your pretty pussy against this bed, I think it’s fair I take out my frustrations on you. I will make you beg so hard, because baby, I can do this all fucking day.” He said with grit. 

Your ears ring, and all your thoughts vanish with his words. You push yourself up, closing the distance between your mouths. He groans deep and takes over the kiss, running his tongue against yours until you're consumed by him. Your head feels light from the lack of oxygen, but you don’t pull away, letting him do whatever he wants to you.

There’s a power that surges inside you, giving in to his control. No matter his threats, you know if you told him to stop, he would. 

He’s not gentle when he flips you on your stomach. His hands fisted at your hips and you heard a snap as he tore your panties away. The abrupt sound and the violent action behind it spurred your desire to a fever pitch. 

You hear him unzip his jeans, and in your attempt to look, he presses your head hard into the mattress. Then, you feel him pulling while he collects all of your hair and wraps it around his hand with the intention of using it as a rein. 

You let out a whimper when Steve tugged harder. You don’t hesitate to move when his foot meets yours and spreads your legs further apart. He grunts in approval and runs his fingers up your slit, before his erection brushed between your legs as he moved and you whimpered, so aching and empty, as if the orgasms he’d given you earlier had only deepened your craving rather than appeased it. 

Then he shifts his hips a little and uses his hand to guide his shaft toward your opening. You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as he begins to push inside. You're extremely wet, but you still feel uncomfortably stretched as he slides in all the way. Steve doesn’t give you time to adjust before withdrawing and slamming in again, his thrust doling out punishment and pleasure.

“Fuck,” he hisses when you squeeze around him, and a sharp slap lands on your ass. “You’re so tight.”

You bite your lower lip, trying to cope with the burning, too-full feeling. You clutch at the bed sheets, needing something to hold on to as the familiar tension starts to gather low in your belly. The head of his cock brushes against that sensitive spot somewhere inside you. You gasp as he pulls your hair harshly making you arch to take him deeper, needing more of that intense sensation, wanting to bring you over the edge.

“Oh my god, Steve, yes,” you cried, finding your face pressed into the mattress again and you could hardly breathe. All you can feel is him: the back-and-forth movement of his thick cock inside your body, the heat emanating from his skin. 

In this position, he goes deep, even deeper than usual, and you can’t help the pained gasps that escape your throat as the head of his cock bumps against your cervix with each thrust of his hips. Yet the discomfort doesn’t seem to prevent the pressure growing inside you again, and you feel climax coming again, your inner muscles clenching helplessly around his shaft.

“Oh no you don't,” He groans harshly, sensing that you're about to come. Then he pulls out. Leaving a void of emptiness that aches. The womanly fluids that leak down your thighs now felt cold, before you could protest, Steve flips you again and your eyes finally get to lay upon his magnificence, his erection at your eye level.

But all he does is look at you, a mocking half-smile playing on his beautiful lips. “You think I’m going to come inside you, Y/N?” he asks softly. “Is that what you’re expecting me to do?”

You blink, startled by the question. Of course you expect him to do that. You did something that upsetted him. Apparently reading the answer on your face, he smiles wider. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not exactly in a generous mood.” 

“Sit up and suck it,” he murmurs, looking down at you.

Aroused by the command, you fluttered your tongue across the underside and shivered with delight when he rewarded you with a hot burst of pre-cum. Fisting the root of him with one hand, you hollow your cheeks and draw rhythmically.

You cup his balls in your other hand and squeeze them lightly. He groans, his eyes closing and his hand fisting your hair, and you continue, moving your mouth up and down on his cock, swallowing him deeper every time.

Your head bobbed as you pleasured him, jacking him with one hand while you sucked and stroked the crest with your mouth. Heavy veins coursed the length of his cock, and you slid the flat of your tongue along them, tilting your head to find and caress each one. 

He swelled, growing thicker and longer.

“Baby, you suck me so good.” He held your head still and took over. Thrusting his hips. Fucking your mouth. Stripped to a level of base need where only the race to orgasm mattered.

You gripped his straining thighs in both hands, frantically working your lips and tongue, desperate for his climax. His balls were heavy and big, an audacious display of his powerful virility. You cupped them, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten and draw up.

“Ah, Y/N.” His voice was a guttural rasp. His grip tightened in your hair. “You’re making me come.” 

The first spurt of semen was so thick, you struggled to swallow. Mindless in his pleasure, Steve was thrusting against the back of your throat, his cock throbbing with every wrenching pulse into your mouth. You eyes watered and your lungs burned, but still you pumped your fists, milking him. His entire body shuddered as you took everything he had. The sounds he made and the muttered, breathless praise were the most gratifying you'd ever heard. 

You licked him clean, keeping eye contact the entire time, marveling at how he didn’t fully soften even after an explosive orgasm. He was still capable of fucking you senseless and more than willing to, you knew. He wasn't kidding when he says he can do it all fucking day.

× × × ×

“OH, God.” Your hands fisted the sheets beneath you, your back arching as Steve pinned your hips to the bed and his lips circled your clit and his cheeks hollowed. Sucking rhythmically, he massaged the hypersensitive knot with the tip of his tongue.

Your skin was coated in a fine sheen of sweat, your vision blurring as your core tightened viciously in preparation for orgasm. Your pulse was thrumming and racing. You've comed twice already, as much from the sight of his blonde head between your legs as from his wickedly gifted mouth. 

“I’m ready.” You pushed your fingers into his hair, feeling the dampness at the roots. His restraint was costing him. You're overstimulated and he's taking the time to make sure you are soft and wet before filling you too full with his long, thick cock.

“I’ll decide when you’re ready.”

“I need you inside me, please. I won’t disobey your orders again.” You pleaded, bucking your hips towards his face.

“You ache without my cock inside you. You’ll say anything to have me there.” Steve crawled toward you like a sleek panther on the prowl.

“Yes.”

He hovered over you, his big body casting a shadow over yours. Tilting his head, he lowered his mouth and lightly traced the seam of your lips with the tip of his tongue. 

“You crave it. You feel empty without it.” 

“Yes, damn you.” You gripped his lean hips, arching upward to try to feel his body against your. You never felt closer to him than when you were making love, and you needed that closeness now, needed to feel like you were okay.

He settled between your legs, his erection lying hard and hot between the lips of your pussy. 

“I need you,” you breathed, rubbing your wet cleft shamelessly along the heated length of his cock.

“Not yet.” He moved, rolling his hips to find you with the broad head of his penis. He pushed gently against you, parting you, spreading you open as he slipped just the tip inside. You writhed against the tight fit, your body begging. 

“Fuck me. God … just fuck me!” 

Steve reached down with one hand and grabbed your hip, stemming your frenzied attempts to push up and take more of him.

You fought his hold. Your nails dug into the tight curves of his ass and you tugged him against you. If you didn’t get him in you, you thought you'd lose your mind. 

“Give it to me!”

Steve slid his hand into your hair, fisting it to hold you where he wanted you. “Look at me.” 

“Steven!” 

“Look at me.”

You stilled at the command in his voice. You stared up at him, your frustration melting as you watched a slow, gradual transformation sweep over his handsome face.

With his eyes still on yours, he reached beside him to claim your wrists. One at a time, he lifted your arms over your head, restraining you. Pinned to the mattress by his grip, his weight, and his unflagging erection.

Steve slowly enters you, penetrating you inch by slow inch. It feels good, so unbelievably good, and you moan again, tightening your inner muscles around his shaft. He groans, closing his eyes, and you do it again, wanting more of the sensation. 

He opens his eyes and stares at you, his face taut with lust and his eyes glittering. You hold his gaze, fascinated by the fierce need you see there.

He began to thrust, stroking through the trembling walls of your cunt with the thickly veined length of his big cock. Claiming you. Possessing you.

You can hear his harsh breathing, and you know that he’s exerting a lot of control over himself, that he probably wants to fuck you harder but is trying not to ‘damage you beyond repair.’ Nevertheless, his movements cause your insides to twist and churn, causing you to cry out with every stroke.

“I love you.” your voice is barely audible, each word feeling like it’s being wrenched out of your very soul.

You can see his pupils dilating while grinding breathlessly, “Tell me again.” 

“I love you.” which came out like a small, helpless sound.

“I love you too.”

Struggling with the grinding urge to rock into the ferocious thrusts of his big cock. He shoved his other hand beneath your hip, cupping your rear and lifting you into his thrusts so that his cock head stroked over and over the spot that ached for him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growled, pounding his hips up at you, yanking your hips up to meet his punishing strokes. 

“Yes, yes! Come inside me.” you yelped, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Steve hit the end of you with every deep thrust, battering into you. You could feel him growing harder and thicker. You watched him avidly, needing to see it when he went over the edge for you. His eyes were wild with his need, losing their focus as his control frayed, his gorgeous face ravaged by the brutal race to climax. 

“Y/N, I'm coming!” He came with an animal sound of feral ecstasy, a snarling release that riveted you with its ferocity. He shook as the orgasm tore into him, his cock jerking as it pumped thick spurts of scorching semen into you.

You climaxed in a rush that had you sobbing his name, your bodies convulsing as the sensation enhanced and magnified by the way he’d controlled your body. 

Steve laid on top of you, waiting for his cock to get soft before he pulled out. Your body remains convulsing under him.

“You’re a machine,” you told him, trying to catch your breath. “Or a god.”

Steve let out a low, breathless chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin as he held you close. He laid beside you, his chest was still heaving from the intensity of what you had just done, but there was a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you. Steve shifted slightly, so he could meet your eyes, his expression softening as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. 

“Maybe,” he murmured, his voice rough and warm from exertion. “But as much as I like the sound of being a god,” he continued, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I think I’d rather just be the man who’s lucky enough to have you in his arms.”

“Just don’t pull a stunt like that on me again and I’ll be fine,” he responded, his tone a mix of lingering concern and affection. But there was still an edge to his voice.

“But it’s against my nature to ignore—” you started, trying to explain yourself, but Steve cut you off, his gaze intense.

“Do I have to impregnate you? For you to think more carefully?” he asked, his voice low and filled with a rough, teasing tone that sent a shiver down your spine. The words were provocative, laced with a mix of frustration and possessiveness that made your breath catch.

Your eyes widened slightly at his bold statement, your heart skipping a beat as the meaning of his words sank in. There was a challenge in his eyes, but also a deep-seated need—a desire to protect you, to keep you safe in a way that was so intensely Steve.

“Is that what it’s going to take?” he continued, his tone softening just a bit, though the intensity in his gaze never wavered. “Because I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re careful out there. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I won’t.”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your mind racing with his words and the seriousness behind them. He wasn’t just teasing; there was a part of him that meant every word. It was possessive, yes, but it was also born from a place of deep love and fear of losing you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

Steve’s expression softened, his eyes searching yours as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. 

He groaned when he spotted you on your lounge chair. Your exposed skin glistened in the sunlight, the rays practically kissing every inch of you. He adjusted the front of his shorts when he realized you were wearing the same bikini he tore off the last time you two went for a swim. The little whimpers you made when you tried to keep quiet only made him want you to be louder. Holding you close after, his heart raced even faster than it did when he was inside you.

He was whipped and didn’t give a single fuck about it.

Quickly shedding his shirt so he was left in only his shorts, he walked through the gate with a confident smile. “Hey, Beauty,” he called out. He didn’t want to startle or bother you. Well, maybe he wanted to bother you a bit since he liked having your attention.

Something about you made him needy in the best possible way.

Glancing up from the book in your hands, you acknowledged him with a nod. “Hey, neighbor. Or should I call you Beast?” His stomach did a funny flip when you smiled. How was it that your smile could disarm him so easily? “What's going on?” You asked, shifting in your lounge chair.

His eyes followed the strap of your bathing suit top as it slid off your shoulder. Did the motion cause it to slip or did you do it on purpose? It wouldn’t have surprised him either way. You enjoyed teasing each other. It was what made part of what made your relationship so fun.

Yes, relationship. In his eyes, you two were unofficially together. It wasn't like either of you were seeing anyone else. Why would he want anyone besides you? When was the last time he felt that way about anyone?

Never.

He never had.

He cleared his throat to regain his composure. “How are you?”

“Can't complain. It's a beautiful day and I’m enjoying the sunlight. Also catching up on my reading since I don’t have to deal with work. Maybe I can finally finish this book so I can give it back to you.”

Bucky leant you the book only a few days ago and had heard work was giving you a bit of a headache. He was more than willing to help you relieve some stress. “Keep it for as long as you want.”

“Thanks,” you said, closing it and setting it aside so you could give him your full attention. “How are you?”

He bit his lip and made a show of looking you over. “I'm actually really hungry,” he said.

You raised an eyebrow. “You stopped by to check on me even though you're hungry? Were you being a friendly neighbor or were you hoping I'd cook for you?”

He chuckled. The feigned innocence may have fooled him if he didn’t catch your subtle smirk. “As much as I love your cooking, I was really hoping I could eat your pussy instead,” he said.

Your mouth fell open slightly before you laughed, a breathless sound that he loved to hear. “And you thought you'd just interrupt my reading and I'd spread my legs and give you what you want? That’s a bold assumption.”

“Bold and accurate. You think I can't see that your legs are already further apart? Giving me a front row view? And I know you’re wet for me. Bet you were the moment I walked over here.” He nodded to the juncture between your thighs. “It's not just about what I want. You want it, too.”

You gasped this time. His confidence bordered on cockiness, but it was for a good reason. You two were moths to each other’s flames that couldn’t be extinguished. Magnets that couldn’t be pulled apart.

He wouldn't deny it and neither would you.

“Okay, so maybe I wouldn't mind if you ate my pussy since you like it so much,” you said after a moment, laying back more. “And it would be rude of me to deprive you of a delicious meal since you’re so hungry.”

“I’m starving. It’s also a good stress reliever for you, so we both win,” he winked, leaning down to grab you by your thighs and pull you closer to the edge of the chair. As fun as it would be to get in the chair with you, gravity would likely push his end down and he didn’t want you to go flying or get hurt.

“I don’t know. I think our stargazing was a pretty good stress reliever,” You smiled, your breath hitching as he sank to his knees.

Reaching for your bikini bottoms, he let a hand settle on your hip as the other reached for your hand. “Yeah? You enjoyed it?” He asked. That was another stressful week for you and it broke his heart to see you so exhausted. He wished he could quit your job. They didn’t deserve you.

“Yeah, I did.” You sat up, keeping hold of his hand. It fit there so well. “It was perfect,” you whispered.

He met you halfway, two forces drawn closer until your lips touched. The collision was soft at first, warmth spreading like inside until it fueled his hunger and passion. He wasn’t sure if he deepened the kiss first, but your lips parted for him to let his tongue explore. The same way your pussy would open up for him and let indulge.

He pulled back to let you breathe, his hand finally untying the bottom half of your bathing suit and pulling it away. “Lay back,” he murmured, his gaze dropping your exposed pussy with a groan. “You’re fucking soaked.” It glistened even more than your skin and he was dying to get a taste. You were always so sweet, warm, and wet. How could he not want to spend as much time as he could between your thighs and keep you in his arms like you were the most precious gift?

How did he get lucky enough to have you move in next door?

“Bucky…” you breathed at the first lick of his tongue, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He moaned your name before he dragged his tongue along your slit again. “You’re so sweet,” he whispered, bumping his nose against your clit in an almost affectionate manner. Sweet enough for him to wreck. Sweet enough to make him smile.

It didn’t take long for him to stab his tongue deep and make you writhe, losing himself to you as he used a hand to keep you in place. He smelled and tasted your sweetness, felt your wetness and perfect cunt, heard your beautiful cries, saw your chest rise and fall. You surrounded him and took over all senses. You were everywhere. It was beautiful.

You were beautiful.

“Bucky, fuck!” You moaned unabashedly as he slipped a finger in with his tongue. If you cared that the neighbor on the other side of your place could hear or see anything you didn’t let it show. He didn’t give a fuck either. Let everyone see him on his knees worshipping at the altar of you.

He’d never get enough.

Your thighs trembled and you tugged on his hair, your breaths coming in harder and faster. “Bucky… I…” Your words died on your tongue as his tongue set your body on fire.

“Let go for me, beautiful,” he whispered. He wanted the coil inside you to snap so could catch you when you fell.

He added another finger just as your pussy pulsed, your back arching as you cried out his name. Groaning as your release soaked his mouth, he lapped up every drop and helped you ride out the waves before you whimpered. He grudgingly left the haven of your quivering walls so he could lean back to look at your panting form. Your skin glistened even more than before as you caught your breath. But what made his heart twist was the smile you gave him when your eyes met.

His heart pounded so hard he wondered if you heard it. He really wanted all of you. Nothing was going to change that.

“Wow…” you said, your breathing evening out more as your hand reached for his again. “Did you get enough to eat?”

Licking some of your lingering sweetness from his lips, he smirked and squeezed your hand. “I don't know. I think I’m still a little hungry.” He fixed your bikini bottoms and brushed his thumb along your clit through the fabric just to tease you again. Watching you squirm was quite the sight. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“What I do to you? What about what you do to me?” You whimpered, grasping his wrist. You sat up with dazed eyes and nodded to the impressive hard-on he was sporting in his shorts. “I think I may be hungry, too,” you teased, sighing as you rested back again. “But maybe we can take this inside and cuddle after? More comfortable there.”

His smile softened at your suggestion, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and never let you go. “Cuddling sounds nice.”

And maybe after he gave you another amazing orgasm, he’d ask you out on a proper date like you deserved.

A date with our neighbor would be so sweet. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

The mention of jewelry brought up an unhappy memory and you knew Yelena recalled it too when your gaze met hers. How your husband's ex-mistress smuggled her necklace in for you to wear on another special occasion had never been solved.Had it been Neal? Hansen? A reminder from the not-too-distant past that your enemies could reach you at any time. A reminder to be vigilant. 

"What jewelry?" you asked carefully.

Yelena smiled. "I picked it up myself," she told you, lifting a delicate strand of diamonds set in gold from a black velvet box on the bed. 

When she draped it around your throat, you smiled at the way it completed your look. There were matching earrings, diamond studs each with a teardrop diamond dangling and catching the light. The set was exquisite. 

"Harry Winston," your friend told you, admiring how they looked on you.

"Nice of them to loan them to us for the ball," you told her, grateful you got to wear them. 

Yelena reached for the golden mask on the bed, holding it to you. "No loan. Steve bought them."

What?

"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."

Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with the mayor there, one of the state senators. So many wealthy, important people like you."

That had you scoffing. "I'm no one special. At least not in the world of such important, political figures."

"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."

"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.

Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. A soft mask of golden sequins that fit over your eyes. 

Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of that name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.

"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.

"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."

You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"

"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 

That had you smiling. Sure, Scott would keep you and Steve safe, but he also got time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena knew Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But since you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena, too.

But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all that she'd been through?

You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know that I'm ready."

"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 

Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.

Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 

"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."

"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."

Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.

"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."

You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.

But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 

Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories you heard now that you were more involved were just horrified. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.

It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.

"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver.

A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.

And still that little kernel of dread lingered.

You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like you got the look right. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 

"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."

Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion, seasons, all of it. You would learn. But until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.

As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.

Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."

"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.

You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.

"You know I will," he muttered.

Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.

"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 

Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

You couldn't help the smile that question brought on. "Yes."

Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a fairytale princess tonight."

Tiredness should weigh on your tense body, since you woke before dawn, but the anticipation and shot of excitement kept you fully energized. The early morning was part of tradition, as well. You walked into the woods with the first rays of sun to gather greens for the wreaths you were going to weave for yourself and your mate. 

Mugwort, chamomile, wild ferns, St. John’s wort and a few twigs of juniper. You wore yours on your head as you slowly crossed through the backyard. In your hands you carried the twin wreath for Ari. 

You were going to crown him with it, as a symbol of you choosing him to be yours. Later, when the second part of the ceremony started, he would take yours off of your head, as a symbol of taking your nonexistent virginity. 

It was laughable, if you were cynically honest. Neither did you choose Ari, not really, nor were you a virgin. Not for a long time. 

Something that Ari didn’t seem to care about. 

Like he didn’t care that you were much older than overly fertile young women he could have chosen from. A small part of you found it quite pleasing, that he didn’t chase after girls half his age, but voiced his interest in you - someone who was merely a few years younger than him. 

You walked barefoot, your simple white dress flowing around your ankles. It was no point in buying an actual, elegant wedding dress, considering you wouldn’t be wearing it for long once you got to the second part of the ceremony. 

You wore no undergarments either. 

You didn’t think Ari’s aware of that fact, but the way his gaze slid up your body as you approached him suggested he might be.

Then his eyes settled on your face and a certain lightness seemed to turn his irises aglow. There was seriousness and respect for the traditions carved onto his handsome face, but his mouth curved at the corners slightly, soothing and encouraging you.

Ari was barefoot, just like you; wearing elegant, linen pants and white shirt that was buttoned only halfway up. 

It was so characteristic of him, you noticed. Over the weeks leading to your mating you’ve had enough opportunities to spend time with Ari - usually not out of your own volition, but because he was crossing into your space and inviting himself over. And most of the time at least two top buttons of his shirts were undone.

You wondered if it was some poor style choice, or if he ran so hot that he needed them unbuttoned.

Those thoughts invited others, more brazen. If he’d walk around the house without a shirt? If he slept naked? Questions you tried to convince yourself you didn’t care for, but which you’d very soon learn the answers to.

You stopped in front of Ari, lifting the wreath in your hands for him to admire. When he bowed his head, you put it on him. A startling flutter to your heart sprinkled warmth through your limbs as you looked at him crowned with a wreath you weaved. 

Lanterns cast amber glow across your bodies as you placed your hands in Ari’s. It was neither their warmth, nor the evening’s sweet dispersing incalescence, but a simmer of heat ignited in your belly when you touched him. 

Ever since he marked you with his cum, feeding you a dollop of it, it seemed your body attuned to his closeness with growing hunger. 

You tried not to imagine how worse it could get once he fully claimed you. 

Alara bound your hands with colorful ribbons; each for a different vow you spoke. Then she lifted an ornamental chalice, filled with sweetly smelling mead and a pinch of herbs. 

With your hands bound, both you and Ari carefully took the chalice. He lifted it to your lips first. Pleasant thickness of it coated your tongue and slid down your throat, leaving a burning sensation that only spurred the fire in your belly. 

In the books regarding mating ceremonies you read about a particular ingredient that used to be added to wine or mead for the bride to drink. According to Alara that hasn’t been done in at least a century and you really hoped she was truthful. It would be really disgusting if you were made to drink Ari’s cum in front of everyone, even if it was only a splash of it. 

Apparently it used to be added to strengthen the bride’s desire for her mate. 

You knew it would work. You still remembered how your body responded to the taste of Ari when he caught you. 

You tipped the chalice slightly when it was Ari’s turn to take a sip; his eyes a glowing blue that seared through you as he held your gaze over the rim. 

With your hands still bound, Ari pulled you forward. He took your mouth in a bold kiss that burned stronger than the rich alcohol you just consumed. Loud cheers resounded around, but were faded compared to the pounding of your own blood rushing through vessels as you melted under the demand of Ari’s lips. 

There was amusement and giggles as you and Ari worked your hands free of the bindings. No scissors or claws could be used to cut through them, you had to work the knots together. Then the bundle of colorful ribbons was placed in a small, carved box. 

You gasped in surprise - the sound dispersing on your palate - when Ari kissed you again. 

Hands completely free, he grabbed you fully, dipping you backwards as his tongue dipped between your lips. The chorus of applause included a few howls. 

You felt a little dizzy (and a lot hot) when Ari pulled back. If not for his arm loosely wrapped around your middle, you may have swayed. Eyes glazed, though you weren’t certain if it was due to the potent mead, or the reality of mating Ari hitting you suddenly; you stared up at him. 

With the spark in his iridescent irises, you sensed he was equally excited for the next part as you were terrified of it. 

But your fear didn’t make you flee; not this time, at least. It was that kind of fear that lured to follow into the darkness and experience the thrill of being consumed. Curiosity and apprehension combined into an addictive kind of sensation. 

Was it why you felt that spark of arousal whenever you ran away and Ari gave chase? 

The first thought making you run could be of rebellion, of trying to free yourself of the Alpha’s clutches. But the chase made it into heady titillation. 

The unknown of the mystical, sacred part of the ceremony spiked that fear, but the aspect of doing it with Ari - whatever raw, dirty act it would be - heated your body in anticipation. 

Alara addressed the gathered people, calling upon them to feast in joy for your union. Then she took one of the lanterns and led a small procession deep into the woods. Five other shifters fell into step behind her - three of Ari’s pack and two of yours. Chosen for their hierarchy in the pack, they were granted great honor to be witnesses to the second part of the ceremony. 

Though you briefly wondered, if Dante wasn’t asked to do it also as some sort of twisted power play. He was a member of your old pack and it seemed Ari respected his knowledge, experience and dedication to protect people. However, there was no doubt Ari would have learned that you and Dante used to date. 

It ended more than three years ago, the two of you remaining somewhat friendly if distanced. But male shifters tended to be extremely possessive. Ari was borderline so. It wouldn’t surprise you if the honor to participate in your ceremony wasn’t also Ari’s way of emasculating Dante in case he harbored any lustful thoughts of you. 

Ari’s fingers intertwined with yours as you followed Alara through the darkness of the woods. The lantern was merely symbolic, as your shifter senses allowed all of you to move through the night quite easily. 

When you reached a wide clearing, the five shifters spread around, taking positions in a spread semi-circle. Alara led you forward to the middle of the meadow where a few items had been prepared in advance. 

“You shall undress each other, so the Moon can bathe  you in her glow,” Alara’s voice was soft and melodic, her lips curved in a gentle smile, but her eyes were sharp and wild. Gold swirls painted on her face seemed to pulse with life.

Breath hitched in your throat when Ari’s hands smoothed along your shoulders, the straps of your dress easily giving in as he pushed them off. Leaning close, he reached behind you and unzipped the short zipper of your dress, then pulled the delicate fabric off your body. 

Trying not to think of being completely naked in front of him - and in front of five other shifters! - you unbuttoned his shirt, one small button after another. Your fingers itched to explore the expanse of Ari’s chest, but you stifled that craving and managed to touch as little of his skin as possible as you pushed the shirt off his shoulders. 

Staring at his chest, you popped the button of his pants open and lowered the zipper. You couldn’t make yourself look Ari into the eyes, fearing to see the heat in them and perhaps a sense of dark, lustful victory. 

It was better not to peek down, too. The glimpse of Ari’s cock you got when he came all over you after he caught you in the woods was enough of torment in the past few weeks; tempting your body into overdrive as you dreamt of it. 

You stepped away from the pile of clothes and faced each other. Heart pounding in your chest, you finally lifted your gaze to Ari’s face. Without Alara’s prompting, as if he knew each step of the ceremony by heart, Ari took off his wreath and placed it at godi’s feet. 

Then he reached for your wreath. In a slow, gentle move, he took it off. 

It was only a symbol, one you previously rolled your eyes at, but the moment Ari’s fingers gripped the green weaves and deprived you of them, a light, pleasant sting pierced your core. 

Your wreath was offered at Alara’s feet as well; the godi served as a conduit of the Moon goddess. 

“Shift.” The command was simple, unyielding enough that you didn’t protest, even though you were surprised by it.

When Alara taught you stages of the ceremony, she didn’t mention letting your wolf out. You hesitated only a few seconds, before you gave in to the pull itching beneath your skin. For a split of a second you got to admire Ari’s wolf with your human eyes, then you were seeing him through your wolf’s. 

You were a streak of silver, light coloring that some of your former partners expressed to be the moonlight itself crushed into fur. Though you weren’t the smallest of wolves, placing yourself as rather average among shifters, you seemed tiny compared to Ari’s wolf. 

Your Alpha was a beast of fairy tales. So big and domineering. His thick fur was a spectrum of bronze, with some streaks glinting gold, some reddish, the tip of his tail as dark as black. 

In that moment it hit you how perfect of a predator he was. As a human you noticed his scent that blended him so easily with the forest - pine and moss and resin. His wolf form blended into the woods even deeper, allowing him to gain the upper hand in any season, any part of the land. 

Ari’s paw dug into soil as he made a move toward you. Something flicked through your hindbrain, or perhaps it was your human side all along, but you suddenly felt the need to bolt. 

To tease him, maybe. Or perhaps you couldn’t suppress that remnant of rebellion against this union.

Your wolf barely managed to turn around and start forward when Ari leaped. The massive wolf crushed you to the ground, your wolf yipping as he trapped you beneath him. Then his jaw locked on your neck, sharp teeth piercing enough to be a warning. 

A shudder rippled through you, your head dropping down in submission. Ari snarled and for a moment you found yourself scrambling to understand what he wanted. But your wolf knew. With another pitiful yip she went lax, surrendering completely. A lick of approval soothed the spot where his fangs nipped you.

Slowly, Ari eased back. You remained in your position, not daring yet to move. Then suddenly a low growl of his reverberated through your bones.

It yanked on that shifter thread inside you, forcing an immediate shift. 

Never before had anything like it happened, it was always your own volition to change into wolf form and back into human. And Ari just proved to you how much power he held. 

Alphas supposedly possessed that ability - to force any shifter into immediate change, but you never saw Dimitri do it to anyone. You didn’t think Ari’s done it to scare you, or belittle you in any way, rather you felt it as his help to guide you into the next step of the ceremony. 

Yet it still elicited a scary realization, how truly he could overpower you. If you ever ran away in your wolf form, he could command your immediate shift into human and gain more advantage. 

Ari gently helped you up onto your feet, having shifted into human form himself. The care and respect he showed contrasted with the display of raw power. 

Your gaze shifted to Alara, a glint of offense at not being prepared for that part of the proceedings. She only smiled as she beckoned the two of you closer.

“The wolf’s submission had to be natural, had to be earned,” she explained. “If I warned you of it, then it could provoke you to either fake it, or fight it just out of spite.”

You wouldn’t tell her that you felt your wolf submit to Ari weeks ago, when he tackled you to the ground after chasing you through the woods. The bitch gave in then. 

Alara picked a bowl filled with sweet scented mixture. Linden honey, cloves, lovage and crushed cranberries for the red color. She lifted it up to the sky, muttering a string of blessings, or spells, or whatever curse. Then she lowered it towards Ari. 

“Under the Moon’s keen eye, brand what’s yours to have.” 

She held the bowl as Ari dipped his hand in the mixture. He marked a spot on your temple first. Then smeared the honey across your mouth. Your lips parted, letting the sweet taste in. And letting a little gasp out when Ari’s hand left streaks of sticky concoction across your breasts.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Ari’s eyes when he dipped both his hands for more mixture and then splayed one on your ass and his other palm over your abdomen. 

He crouched down to better drive his fingers up the inside of your thigh and then along the juncture in your hip, before ending the sweet swirl in the thatch of your hair right above your softly pulsing clit. 

Each streak he painted on your naked body seemed to seep into your skin and feed to the fire already burning you with need. 

A thought to chase Ari’s fingers with your mouth, to suck them clean so he could slip them into your wet pussy, flashed in your mind. It was Alara’s voice addressing you that stopped you from making a fool of yourself. 

“Under the Moon’s keen eye, brand what’s yours to have.” She tipped the bowl your way. 

Fingers dripping with red stained honey, you reached up to touch Ari’s temple. When you brushed your fingertips across his mouth, you almost pouted in disappointment he didn’t nip at any of your digits. 

Focusing on regulating your breath, so you didn’t pant, you used both of your hands to mark Ari’s huge biceps. Then, just because you were getting needy and annoyed with yourself because of that, you scratched his chest a bit as you smeared the mixture across his pectorals. 

Perhaps you saw it in the way Ari’s eyes darkened, or maybe it was already the bond building between the two of you, but you felt certain that he liked when you scratched him. 

Your eyes followed the line your fingers drew along the thatch of hair leading down Ari’s belly and lower. Scooping more honey from the bowl, you knelt at Ari’s feet and dragged both hands up his muscular legs, until you gripped his ass.

Your breath quickened as you stared at the half-hard cock rising toward Ari’s belly. Slowly, you swiped your hands from the back of his thighs to the front, using all of your melting will to not taste him right away.

Instead, you boldly looked up. Ari’s pupils were blown wide as he stared at you - on your knees, lips inches away from his cock, about to mark it as a part of him for you to have. Holding his gaze, you wrapped your fingers around him. 

If it wasn’t for Ari’s self restraint, you probably would follow the instinct, the hunger tempting you to move your hand and start what would inevitably happen in a few minutes anyway. After all, sex was the culmination of the ceremony. But Ari’s own fingers gently caught your wrist. 

He helped you up. Again that night. 

For as amused as she had to be, Alara didn’t spare you a knowing, mocking look. She put the bowl away and picked another dish. This one a simple terracotta pot, bearing marks of time. 

“For Nature, the Mother of us all,” Alara intoned, “make a pledge to the earth to show your readiness to fall in with the cycle.” 

Ari knelt down and started digging with his bare hands while you filled both hands with seeds and flower bulbs from the terracotta pot. Kneeling on the ground as well, you planted them in the furrow created by Ari. Then both of you covered the seeds with soil, your hands joined as you did so. 

You washed your hands in the bassinet with fresh water that Alara placed beside you. She poured into it what was left of the honey mixture, then dipped a small bouquet of ferns in it and used them to sprinkle the mixture over you and Ari.

“Blessed be this union!” Alara bellowed, hands stretched high toward the night sky. “Moon, our goddess! As you cast your light upon your favored, embrace his mate. Through the eyes of the witnesses gathered here, watch as they seal their claim on each other.”

Arms slowly dropping, Alara stared at you as she took a few steps backwards. Silence stretched in tense anticipation. 

It dawned on you then. That was the most important part. The culmination.

And there were people around, about to witness your coupling. 

Ari’s hand cupped your chin, preventing you from looking anywhere else but him. No one else should matter now. No other shifter, no woodland creature, nor the stars peppering the sky. There was only your mate. 

He tilted your head back slightly and leaned in. Tip of Ari’s tongue flicked against your bottom lip, licking off the sweetness. Lips trailed sticky kisses across your cheek, until his breath tickled the shell of your ear.

“You’re ready, little Omega,” he purred, slipping a hand between your thighs. 

At the bold touch of his fingers spreading your slick folds, your hands flew to Ari’s shoulders. Fingernails of your right hand needled his skin, while you gripped a fistful of his hair with the other. 

“You’re already mine,” he sounded more than pleased; he sounded drunk on victory after months of chase. “But I’ll pound it into your tight pussy, so you feel that bond with every step.” 

He growled in satisfaction as you moaned, rocking your hips into his hand. He stretched you with a firm stroke of his fingers, driving in two at once and pressing the heel of his palm into your clit. 

Gripping the back of your neck with his other hand, Ari kept pumping his fingers and curling them until your juices were spilling over his palm. 

“Ask me!” He demanded, licking off more of the honey around your mouth. 

“Alpha,” your voice was raspy and breathy, “fuck me! Knot me. Claim me!” 

It was only your heart soaring and fluttering like a hummingbird trapped in grip, though it felt as if the earth itself shuddered beneath you from the force and heat of Ari’s kiss. 

Perhaps there were more potent, illegal roots added to the mead Alara made you drink earlier, or to the honey mixture that soaked your bodies. Or maybe it was the vowed bond that grew taut and intense in its demand to be fulfilled in the most primal way.

Whatever spurred it, made you desperate. Needy. Your mouth opened pliant to Ari’s, ready to swallow whatever he fed you, ready to offer pleasure in return. Your hands roamed over his body; touching and squeezing and scratching. 

When he eased his fingers out of your fluttering cunt, you almost whined in protest. But then he was gripping your hips and flipping you onto your hands and knees. 

Your hindbrain took over, the wolf bitch coming to the surface just beneath your human skin. But it wasn’t only the wolf side that craved the warmth of Ari’s thighs pressing against the back of yours. Your human side wanted it to. The woman who resisted his claim was eager to bend forward and offer herself. 

One of Ari’s big hands gripped your hip, the other moved between your bodies to guid the tip of his cock into your entrance. 

With a broad lick up your spine, Ari laid his weight above you. He nipped the nape of your neck, more playful than he did in his wolf form, and you instinctively followed the unspoken command. You stretched your arms forward and dipped your upper body low, cheek pressed to the ground. 

“Good little Omega,” Ari purred, kissing your neck. 

A loud cry spilled from your lips, resounding through the clearing, maybe through the whole forest, when Ari sheathed himself inside you in one stroke. 

He paused. To relish in the feeling, or to give you a moment to adjust - if it was the latter, you didn’t think it would help. Ari wasn’t some monstrous beast to have a dick you couldn’t take. It was impressive, but in very reasonable size. And yet, something about it made you quiver in fear (and excitement) of being split in half. 

The first languid thrusts drew moans from both of you. Ari drove deep on each push, forcing your pussy to give up completely and nudging your cervix on a few passes. Then his pace increased, his filled heavy sack slapping against your clit. 

Rough fingers dug into your hip, undoubtedly leaving bruises that would bloom later. His other hand roamed below your body, squeezing your breasts, teasing your belly. Ari’s mouth was in constant movement along your neck and shoulders: kissing and licking, teeth grazing your skin in a prelude to the bite. 

You pushed up against him eagerly; the embarrassment at the sound of the skin slapping and wetness squelching on each thrust burned away. You didn’t care! Didn’t care who watched, or how loud you were, how you dripped. There was only need for more of Ari; need for him to help you chase that release you’ve been yearning for since your lips touched his. 

Fingers gouging the soil, you keened when on the next thrust Ari’s cock grazed a spot that instantly had you clenching around him. 

He groaned; the sound deep and low, sinking into your skin where Ari’s mouth hovered on your shoulder. 

Your pussy pulsed, tightening around his dick, and he only made things worse still fucking into you relentlessly; prolonging the madness of your fizzing pleasure and tipping you into another climax. 

Your scream rose as the blinding aftershocks of your orgasm were joined by the pain-and-pleasure shot of Ari’s teeth piercing your skin. 

He bit into the crook of your neck, his jaw locked mercilessly as he drew blood and mauled your skin. Few seconds later Ari gurgled his growl of pleasure with a mouthful of your blood, as he bottomed out inside your quivering cunt and his knot inflated. 

Another tremor rocked you, albeit softer, but stretching into infinity. A simmering orgasm that seemed to go on and on and on as spurts of thick cum filled you. As if each splash of Ari’s spend instigated a tiny climax. 

Harmonized howls resounded in the night, for the first time reminding you of the audience you had. The five chosen shifters who had to change their form into wolves at some point, though you didn’t even register when. 

You stayed locked with Ari for long minutes, your labored breaths synchronizing. Ari’s teeth retracted, his tongue soothing the wound. 

You’d be wearing that scar for months. Many more would be added, you suspected. Due to his possessiveness, or his primal nature so close to the surface, but you were certain Ari would be biting you every time he fucked you. He was going to leave marks of possession so visible other shifters would instantly drop their gaze upon catching a sight of them. 

Only you would be wearing the bite. While mates tended to exchange bites, so each was marked as claimed, an Alpha couldn’t be bitten. Not even by his mate. 

For an Alpha a bite meant a loss of status, a chink in his power; it would be a sign of weakness and submission. Traits an Alpha couldn’t display.

But there were other ways a mate could mark an Alpha. Which is why you felt that need to scratch him from the beginning. To rake your nails down his back and over his chest, leaving deep red lines of your own possession. 

Still a little breathless, you reached one of your dirty hands behind you. Prickling Ari’s neck with your nails, you turned your head enough to kiss him. 

Slowly, Ari pulled back and moved your body along with him. You rose onto your hands and knees. Knot almost deflated, he withdrew from you inch by inch. Copious amount of fluid spilled out of you; a glistening mixture of your slick and Ari’s cum. 

It splashed onto the soil in thick drops; right over the seeds you planted earlier. 

With his arm across your front, Ari helped you up into a sitting position, serving for you as his recliner. Your head rested against his shoulder as he kept you spread; kept you exposed so the Moon and the others could see you dripping down. 

Alara knelt at your side, bowing her forehead almost to the ground then lifting it. She placed her right hand on top of Ari’s where it rested low on your belly.   

“As your essence has fertilized the seeds in the soil, may the Moon’s glow bless your fruitful coupling.”

Her hand didn’t linger, but Ari’s stayed splayed on your abdomen as Alara scooted back. You didn’t roll your eyes at the obvious eagerness to get you pregnant (both from Ari and the pack’s godi) only because you were still quite overwhelmed with the intensity of the whole ceremony. 

Also because there was still need thrumming in your pulse.

Alara signaled the other shifters and they approached in a practiced formation, back in their human forms. They each picked the dishes that were used in the ceremony, then followed Alara out of the clearing. 

You and Ari were left alone. 

His hand stayed on your belly, the other sliding up between your breasts, fingers curling around the front of your neck. Ari trailed small, soft kisses along your shoulder, then scraped your jaw with his teeth.

“This is what I imagined from the moment my eyes set on you for the first time,” he confessed, the undertone of pure satisfaction clear in his voice. 

“You wore a crown of flowers for the festivities and I knew I’d be taking off your bridal wreath and locking you on my knot.”

A tremor blew goosebumps on your skin. That very first evening you sensed trouble from catching the attention of an Alpha, but then you didn’t yet know how severe his determination was. He’d chase you to the end of the world to claim you. 

You twisted in his arms, facing him and climbing into his lap. You cupped Ari’s face, smudging dirt over his cheeks. You could’ve held onto your resentment and rebellion, making the whole experience and nearest future a very miserable for you both. Somehow, you couldn’t make yourself do that. Not even that morning, when fleeting thoughts of giving a last run crossed your mind. 

You were Ari’s now. As he was yours. 

He’s shown you over the weeks that he’s ready to build this relationship with you. If the way he led the pack was any indication of how he’d be as a mate, you had a chance of creating something indestructible. 

“And now you have me.” You rolled your hips, enjoying the twitch of his cock against your thigh. “Are you going to gloat?”

“A little bit,” Ari shrugged, flashing you a sexy grin. 

“Mostly-” he palmed your ass and pulled your hips upward- “I’m going to worship you.”

He dropped you down onto his cock, hissing in pleasure as your heat enveloped him again. Your small moan at the stretch made his eyes ignite. 

“Come, little Omega,” Ari laid down on his back and you braced your hands against his chest as you sank fully onto his cock. “Take me. Take your mate.” 

Ari groaned as your nails drew more lines across his body, leaving pink trails that would gain in color in a few hours. 

With his hands squeezing your ass, he urged you down as he thrust up into you. Your nails needled deeper, giving him a meek reflection of the sting you felt each time he bottomed out. When he knotted you again, you’d undoubtedly draw blood. 

Then he’d sink his teeth into you again, stating his undisputed dominance even as he allowed you to claw him.

At your nod, he accelerates, the car shooting forward as he takes a tight turn, the velocity making you laugh as he heads toward the freeway.

“We’ll be home soon.”

You don’t admit how that makes your stomach flutter at the sound, especially since you know that it isn’t your home he’s mentioning.

-

When he helps you out of the car, he gives you a spin, letting you go before he closes the door behind you. Holding out his hand, you take it, Curtis leading you up the steps of his house.

Every single house looks like it could have been taken out of a magazine, an architect’s dream as you slightly look back, careful of your steps as you go up the stairs slowly. More importantly, you’re aware of he holds your hand in his own, his fingers warm against your own.

When he opens the door, your mouth parts in surprise, the entry like a bridge to the living room, a pond underneath the bridge.

“A pond?” you ask, Curtis standing behind you as you take a step forward to look. “How…”

“It was a surprise to me too when I saw the plans.”

When you get closer, koi fish swim to the surface as you lean over to look.

“A little surprise from my architect at the time. I take good care of these guys,” Curtis says. 

“Incredible.”

You can feel his eyes on you when you finally look at him as he nods for you to continue on. Going over the bridge, he’s behind you, your hands nearly touching when you glide your palms on the rails.

“It’s very fancy.”

“I’m more of a minimalist but they’re a nice touch,” he agrees, motioning to the right. “Kitchen is that way.”

Stainless steel appliances and black lacquered cabinets await you, everything carefully decorated when he turns on the light, taking off his shoes in a swift move, padding into the kitchen.

“Pick your poison,” he offers, heading to the built-in wet bar.

“I’ll have a scotch, please.”

“Scotch,” Curtis says with a raise of his eyebrow. “I would have taken you for a gin sort.”

“Gin?”

“Sophisticated. Architects have a way about them.”

“Like what?” you inquire, Curtis handing you your drink as he raises his to yours. The glasses clink slightly before he answers you.

“Complex without being overbearing.”

You take a sip, Curtis following suit.

“Complex,” you repeat. “That’s now how I would describe myself.”

“Then you’re not giving yourself enough credit. Complex doesn’t need to have a negative connotation. Everything about you is complex because you don’t outwardly offer your feelings.”

“I think I’ve been pretty open.”

He laughs at your comment, nodding in agreement.

“But the treatment that I offered, that was complex. Broke a few of my own set rules but it worked. You’re a complex woman and I find that insanely sexy.”

You swallow the last of your drink, seeing him take another sip.

“It’s a good thing that I was cured then. You won’t have to break any more of your rules,” you add, seeing him set down his glass.

“How would you know what other rules I’d be willing to break?”

Your mouth goes dry at his question, licking your lips as he cages you against the wall.

“I was guessing.”

“Hmm,” he replies, his eyes gazing at your body. “There’s only one way to find out. Can I touch you?”

You nod, almost too furiously for your good when he lowers himself down, his hands at your hips, his fingers sliding down the fabric of your dress and down to your bare skin. He doesn’t break eye contact with you, hands slipping under your dress as he pulls the fabric up. 

He leans in, kissing your thighs, your own hands rolling into fists as he inches closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs. You can feel his breath, warm and dangerously close when he leans in, keeping you steady when his tongue finds your covered clit, applying just enough pressure for you to whimper.

“Satin is a nice touch,” he tells you, slipping thumbs under the band. “I wouldn’t want to ruin such a pretty pair but I need to see what I’ve been dreaming about.”

He pulls them down slowly, letting them pool at your feet, carefully lifting up each leg so that you’re finally free. The urge to hide from him, to hold your dress in place is overwhelming.

There is a hunger – a desire – in his eyes that you’ve never experienced with anyone else before.

You’re exposed to him, but it doesn’t matter, your eyes on his arms flexing when his thumb slowly swipes against your clit, back and forth until your hips move forward.

“Easy,” he warns gently, tasting you as you swallow hard. “Just like I thought. Amazing.”

You aren’t prepared for how his mouth feels, wet and hot as he’s gentle, learning you centimeter by centimeter, your fingernails scoring against his scalp. Your breath halts when his tongue laves over your clit, over and over until you forget to breathe again.

“You okay?”

Nodding, your head falls back against the wall when you feel his fingers ease up inside you.

Stretching, caressing keeping time with the tempo of his mouth on your clit.

“C…” 

There’s no use in trying to finish saying his name, your hands holding him in place as he brings you to the brink, your legs buckling before you feel him hold you up as you shatter.

“One so far,” he says, looking up at you with a sly smile. “We’re barely getting started.”

He stands up fluidly, your boldness peaking when you pull on his shirt to bring him closer.

“One of how many?” you ask, seeing his devious smile.

“That depends,” he replies. “How many do you want to give me?”

There’s no set number in your mind, only the want – need – to have him that propels you forward, your lips on his, tasting yourself that only spurns you to kiss him deeper as he takes control, his hand at the side of your neck, breaking the kiss to turn your head slightly, drawing your skin into his mouth as he sucks it gently but deep enough that you can feel the sweet pressure and sends shockwaves down to your belly.

“I’ll give you a choice,” he says, breaking the kiss. “Dress on or off before you go upstairs.”

You’ve never been exposed like this before, especially knowing the only thing you’ll be wearing are your heels.

Whatever you choose, you’ll know he’ll accept without question. The freedom to decide how you’ll end up in his bed may be insignificant to him – though you hope not – it feels freeing to know that he’s letting you make the decision.

Turning around, you hear it: the slight suck in of his breath, looking over your shoulder as your eyes plead silently for him to help you.

“Bold move,” he praises, his fingers unzipping your dress.

As it slips down your shoulders, his lips brush against the tops of your shoulders and at the back of your neck when it pools at your feet.

“Absolutely unreal,” Curtis says, taking your hand as he turns you around in a circle, his appreciative gaze making you even wetter than you thought possible.

“Up the stairs and to the left,” Curtis directs. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Every step you take, your insecurities come racing back. Despite every body being a good body, you’re aware of your own shortcomings, the ones you see in the mirror when the confident façade slips. You’re aware of how your hips sway, certain imperfections that you can only imagine will be amplified with you only wearing your black stilettos.

“You look absolutely perfect,” he says behind you, as if he’s reading your mind.

“I’ve never been this… exposed,” you whisper in the darkness, Curtis right behind you as you can feel his arousal, cradled right between your ass.

“I guessed since tt’s taking you a while to get up the stairs. Not that I’m complaining in the slightest,” he assures you, kissing your cheek. “But you’re going to kill me with that perfect view.”

A slight tap of his hand against your ass makes you involuntarily moan, gripping the banister for a moment as you look back at him.

“You’re dripping,” he says, his eyes wandering between your thighs. “Making a nice mess if I do say so myself.”

You finally reach the top of the stairs, the cool air doing nothing to stop the ache between your legs when you make the left toward his room. You’ll marvel at the work of his upstairs when you’re not thinking about how you’re going to get wrecked, Curtis pushing the door open for you as you step into his room.

Black silk sheets.

“It’s not fair, you know,” you finally say, turning your body to face him. “I’m the only one underdressed.”

“I don’t think I’d look as good as you do,” Curtis answers you, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “But I can oblige if you want.”

“I want to help.”

His hands lower to his sides, letting you take over to finish unbuttoning his shirt, your hands resting on his chest. Tattoos are etched on his chest, your fingers outlining them as you trail down, unbuckling his belt as you see his Adam’s apple bob, perspiration on his forehead.

“Am I going too slow?”

“You take all the time you need.”

His voice pulls at your core, hands deftly ridding him of his belt and then buttoning his slacks. He’s hard as a rock when you accidently brush against him, his composure strong as steel when you pull down his boxers and pants. His cock springs free, long and thick, your eyes dropping down to look at it appreciatively. Gone are the thoughts of finishing getting him undressed, your hand reaching out to touch him gently, fingers wrapping around the length of him, his eyes closing in response.

“How can you be so calm,” you whisper against him. “I can’t believe I’m…”

Pre-cum makes your grip slicker, his head tilting up as you kiss his throat, his hands going to your face as he kisses you, kicking off his pants. He walks you toward the bed, stopping right when you can feel the bed behind you.

When you reach to take the heels off, he shakes his head.

“I meant what I said. Heels on until I say so.”

-

He prides himself on self-control. He’s lasted this long with his wits about him, to know that patience is always much sweeter but he knows he can’t wait much longer when your sweet voice pitches as your thighs try to close together, his hands gripping them so you don’t use them as his earmuffs.

All he can think about is how gorgeous you look when you come apart - three times now - just by where he touches, learning your body as you react to his touch. Your lips are parted, chest rising and falling as your hands cover your breasts. It’s laughable for a moment if it wasn’t so excruciatingly painful how badly he wants to be inside you. Your legs are still over his shoulders, Curtis caressing your calves before he looks back at your swollen cunt.

“I’m not going to get enough of how good you taste.”

Your eyes are half lidded, mouth moving but no sound coming out when he carefully eases you off of him, gently removing your heels as they fall to the ground. He kisses your brow, your hands going to his neck to keep him in place.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he admits, his cock nestled between your legs.

“I need you,” you mouth, kissing him deeply and he swears your legs are opening wider when he reaches for the drawer. “I want to just feel you. I’m clean.”

You’re bartering, his smile against your lips as you kiss him again. You’re uninhibited, vulnerable and the progress you’ve made makes him greedy, a flash of possessive that he shuts out when he kisses down your neck.

“Me too but it’s still dangerous,” he warns gently, seeing you shake your head slowly, nodding to your arm.

“Implant. You can’t leave a legacy,” you tease, your eyes closing in bliss when he’s cradled against your entrance. “I want you, I’ve tried to ignore it but -”

That’s all he needs, inching slowly inside you as your fingernails score his back. You’re tight, wet and hot, gritting his teeth as he tries to maintain what shreds of composure he has left, reaching the hilt of you when you left out a soft whimper.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you murmur. “Just…”

“Big?”

He can tell you want to laugh at his joke but he knows the truth, seeing you finally relax before you urge him to move. You’re like a vise, his control slipping with every single thrust, your soft little noises urging him on.

He needs to see ore of you, rolling you onto your side, your thigh on his hip as the new angle makes your mouth drop open, exposing you in a way that makes your fingers give him better access.

You’re close, he can feel the way your silky walls squeeze him tighter, your incessant pleas for him not to stop only urging him on. He commits the way your pretty face looks to memory, knowing that you’ve fundamentally changed how he sees you – how your body reacts to him – and how freely you’ve given yourself to him.

“Fuck,” he grits out, keeping you in place as he cums, filling you as you cling to him.

“Oh god, I… oh, I…” you pant, not letting him go. “I can’t see straight.”

“We’re not done,” he promises, smoothing back your hair as he holds you close. “Not by a long shot, four.”

“Five,” you whisper against his lips, closing your eyes. 

-

Your eyes are barely open when you feel the slight dip in the bed, a glass of water in front of you.

“You need to drink something,” Curtis reminds you softly, rubbing your back in soothing circles. “I ran you a nice bath. Just waiting for you.”

“What time is it?”

“Two or three,” he answers, kissing your cheek.

“Mmm,” you mumble, eyes closing again. “I’ll get up if you come with me.”

Along the evening your small group of four growths into seven, then nine. Even the neighboring pack's members find themselves among your group.

It's not forbidden to befriend the other pack. Especially since Dimitri and Levinson are trying out this civilized pact thing. Human-belonging bar that you went to is a neutral ground anyway; anyone can mingle.

It was harmless fun; lots of teasing and funny stories shared over the joined tables. You rolled your eyes at your friend's comments about getting yourself someone to take home for the night.

"Maybe it'll be a romcom type of thing." Holly winked.

"Her romcom is hotter." Joined Lin, smirking at you over the rim of her glass. "She got an alpha interested in her."

"Alpha?" Holly's brows arched in surprise; a tipsy hiccup preceding her next words: "But Dimitri's blindly in love with his wife."

"I don't mean our alpha." Lin had the smug, evil grin of a cat that ate the canary.

Your murderous glare didn't seem to bother her. It didn't scare off the others at your table, who Ohh-ed like a bunch of teenagers.

You weren't interested in entertaining their drunken nosiness. Besides, there was nothing to tell, really. Ari gave you a little adrenaline rush that night at the festivities, declaring a verbal claim, which you prayed would pass.

In the next week everything returned to normal, your days going on as usual. No pushy alpha on your tail to haunt you.

Before your companions opened their mouths to sputter teasing and ridiculous questions, you downed the rest of your drink in one go and demanded to be given a dare.

At the moment it was better than allowing them ask for a truth.

That's how you find yourself on the table. Everyone's drinks and snacks pushed to the side to make room for you.

Beat of the music quickens your blood, your body writhing and rocking to the rhythm. Your dress isn't too short, and it clings to your hips so tightly you're not afraid of flashing anyone.

Alcohol loosens your muscles; your inhibitions as well.

You sway your hips down then shot up straight, bent yourself forward for a second - causing your girlfriends to whoop in glee.

You're turning around, arms thrown up and head tilted back, when suddenly your world spins.

You squeak at the unexpected motion, for a long moment not understanding why your body is doing this weird upside down pose.

The sound of your friends hollering and whistling reaches you, but it dies down as you keep floating further away from the table.

It's when the chilly air outside of the bar brushes your bare arms that you realize you've been carried outside. Your gaze focuses on long legs clad in dark jeans, a really shapely ass right within reach.

Strong hands grip your hips and you're being slowly dropped down onto your feet. Your body slides along a broad, muscled form. The heat of him seeping through your clothes.

You brace your hands on his chest when you feel dizzy. As the world stops spinning, you start recognizing details of your surroundings.

Your face tilts up, gaze traveling from the wide span of a male's chest - blue shirt unbuttoned on top, revealing a thatch of chest hair - up his corded neck and over a nicely trimmed beard, with patches of ginger and gray within dark blond hair.

Plush, pink lips set into a thin line of displeasure. And a pair of cold, blue eyes glinting like a sharpened blade.

Ari fucking Levinson.

He smells really good, your drunk brain notices.

You manage not to follow that thought, instead focusing on the fact he picked you up, threw you over his shoulder and carried out of the bar as if he owns you.

He does not.

You're not that drunk to not remember this small truth; your lifeline.

You frown. And snap.

"What the hell, Levinson?"

You try stepping back, but your legs wobble on the high heels you chose for tonight. Ari's grip on you tightens, preventing your fall.

"Didn't think you'd cause so much trouble, little omega." He says, nostrils flaring. "Was it a deliberate act, or did you forget the rule about not having anyone's scent on you?"

"I was just dancing! Alone, may I add." You want to sneer that you didn't agree to his rule. You didn't agree to his game at all.

"Everyone at the bar was looking at you. Which I don't mind as long as nobody tries to touch." His eyes turn darker. "But there were men approaching, making plans regarding you, for which I'd have to kill all of them."

There's a furious fire in his eyes and his tone so calm in his ire that you have no doubt this alpha would spill blood, if anyone defies him.

"Hell, some of the members of my own pack were drooling over you." Ari shakes his head, still annoyed, but less when it comes to his own friends and family. "Galen's hand was inches from your calf when you bent over. I'd break his fingers if he touched you."

"You're being ridiculous." You huff, yet your body trembles in disgust at the thought of what some men might've been imagining doing to you.

"I wasn't alone." You point out.

It's not like you'd be going back home solo. Actually, the plans included crashing at Holly's place and eating ice cream until you passed out.

Maybe it's the alcohol, or perhaps you're this bold on your own, but you add:

"And you are not my alpha."

You expect anger. For a split of a second you ready yourself to run, in your high heels, in case Levinson attack you.

But he looks amused, darkness actually receding from his eyes.

"Are you this stubborn on a principle?" He asks, using one of his hands to cup your chin. "Or do you like the chase as much as I do?"

It dawns on you that Ari truly relishes in the chase, in the primal side of your wolf nature.

Saying no to him is like an invitation to play. Perhaps if you jumped right in at his advances at the autumn festival, he'd be bored and disappointed, leaving you be.

Ari's hold on your chin tightens. He moves closer, his breath tickling your cheek as his lips trail towards your ear.

"I may not be your alpha yet, but you will give in." He murmurs in your ear. "You'll be begging for my knot and praising every single drop of cum I pump into you, my little omega."

Alcohol likes filth, you tell yourself when your body ignites with heat upon his words.

You clench your thighs, but otherwise remain stoic, trying your best to not show Ari he may have some sway over your body.

Running in heels would really suck, and he already has the advantage of being a damn alpha, so you hope that Ari doesn't push for more tonight.

Sound of a phone ringing saves you. With a sigh, Ari leans back and takes his cell out of his pocket.

"What is it?" Ari grumbles, annoyed. His frown deepens as he listens to the person on the other end.

"I'll be there shortly." He hangs up, shaking his head. Looks up at you and rolls his eyes to the sky - "What is it with everyone tonight?"

"A bunch of teens from my pack got into a fight." He explains. "Get into the car, I'll drive you home."

This time you manage to push away from him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I'm staying." You announce, tilting your chin up defiantly. "It's my friend's birthday. The party's not over yet."

It's that strong will he sensed the first time he saw you. Ari admires it. He can't wait to break it.

"Do you promise to behave?" His tone is light, amused, but Ari looks at you expectantly like he really waits for your obedient compliance.

"I promise to do whatever the hell I want." You don't say it to spite him, you simply state the truth.

You are a free woman, able to make your choices. Some may be foolish, but you're allowed to do them too.

"Careful," Ari steps to your side, purposely towering over you, "or I'll make the same promise."

You gulp this time. This wasn't just a tease, but a dark threat Ari's capable of fulfilling.

He chuckles when you remain speechless. Then pats you on the ass before walking over to his car.

Your body stirs into movement when the sound of starting engine breaks through the pounding of your heart. You walk back to the bar, car lights following your each step until you safely disappear behind the door.

And it wasn't just your father and brother that you lost tonight, it was the discovery that the only other relative you had, that loved you like your mother had–your great aunt–was gone, too.

The recent discovery replayed in your mind like a scene from a movie, and you were but the helpless observer who had to watch it run through to the end…

Jake tapped away furiously on his laptop as he sat beside you at the small dining table in the cabin.

He muttered your great aunt's name again, in question, a furrow forming between his brows as he stared at his computer screen and you nodded eagerly beside him.

The idea of being reunited with your great aunt had your belly swarming with excited butterflies. It had been years since you had seen her, back when your mother was still alive and you were treated like something to be cherished, not something to be punished.

Jake peeked over at you, his gaze meeting yours briefly before his eyes were lifting to where Steve was standing just over your shoulder.

You could feel the heat of him, and it was strange to be so aware of it, of him, this near stranger, but you were.

"Er, I'm really sorry to have to tell you this," Jake's soft voice brought you back to yourself. "She passed away a few years ago."

The revelation hit you like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, you could only stare at Jake, uncomprehending. “W-what?”

"You didn't know?" he asked, his eyes sad as he watched you.

"No," your reply came out rough and wispy, and you cleared your throat, feeling your face warm as tears flooded your eyes, but you stubbornly blinked them away. "No, I didn't know. My father never told me."

The warm weight of Steve's hand on your shoulder was a soft comfort that nearly had you bursting into tears, but you didn't want them to see you break down, you didn't want to be a bother.

"That's okay, thanks for trying to find her," you bolted from your seat, joking half-heartedly, "I guess you all are stuck with me for a little while longer, but I'll try to earn my keep. There's food here, right?"

You turned to Steve, getting a glimpse of his concerned look–his sympathetic look that had more tears burning at the back of your eyes–before your gaze flitted away. 

"Yeah, the fridge and pantry are stocked," he murmured.

"Great! I'll make you all something to eat. I'm sure you're starving–"

"You don't need to–" Steve started, but you darted into the kitchen.

"I want to," you chirped, your happiness sounding fake even to your own ears.

Because you needed a distraction. You needed to hold it together a little while longer. And then you could mourn, once you were alone, once your overwhelmed brain had a moment to process everything that had happened and been revealed tonight.

You were so busy flitting around the kitchen that you didn't see the way Steve was watching you, his gaze calculating. His eyes flickered from you swirling around the kitchen to his team, who were all around the dining table now, looking more at ease than he had seen in weeks as they joked about an impending meal that would actually be edible for once.

You had joined the men for the late impromptu meal for only a few moments, picking at your own sandwich as your appetite had been non-existent.

The gratitude you had felt when Steve offered to show you to your room so you could settle in for the night had been so real, a visceral thing, but it was gone now as you wondered if you were as much a monster as your father and brother had been, because you weren’t sad about their deaths at all. 

You mourned the loss of your great aunt, the last tie to your mother and someone who had treated you with love and kindness. You struggled with the notion that you had no family left now, that you really and truly were alone. 

But when it came to your father and brother?

You just felt relief. 

You felt like you had finally escaped. 

A soft knock at the door startled you from your thoughts and you straightened, your fingers curling into the quilt beneath you as you called, “Come in.”

Your heart rate sped up as the door creaked open and Steve poked his head in.  “Can we talk?”

You nodded and his lips tilted into the shadow of a smile as he stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him. He looked freshly showered, his hair still damp and his cheeks slightly ruddy as he watched you. 

And you watched him in return, your gaze curious if not a little wary and appreciative too as you clocked the way the black henley clung to his muscles and his worn jeans emphasized the thickness of his thighs. 

When you noticed his feet were bare, your gaze quickly dropped away, your tummy fluttering because something about that seemed strangely intimate. 

“I’m surprised you’re not asleep yet,” he hummed, moving closer. “It’s been a long, crazy night. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“My mind is very active right now,” you admitted, swallowing nervously as Steve sat beside you, close enough that his arm pressed against yours. “It’s been…a lot.”

“I’m sorry about your father and brother,” Steve murmured. “Despite my line of work, I take no joy in killing.”

“I’m not really upset about them, or maybe I’m just numb, I dunno,” you confessed, peeking over at him. “Maybe that makes me just as bad as they were.”

His features softened, and Steve ducked his face until he was catching your shameful gaze with his own. “I think very few people would mourn the loss of their abusers.”

You felt the sting of tears and glanced away. “I don’t think it was always like that. My mother, she was so kind and loved me so much that I think my father tolerated me and didn’t truly hate me until after she was gone. Then the floodgates opened, I guess. No matter how good I tried to be…” your words trailed off as your voice broke and you cleared your throat, sniffling. “I wish he would have just sent me away to my aunt, but now she's gone too, so. Anyway.” You changed the subject quickly, trying to ignore the lump in your throat as you glanced over at Steve. “You’re all military?” 

“Former. We’re a team of mercenaries now, most of our jobs are off the books, but the less you know the safer you’ll be.”

“And that’s what you want?” You whispered, unsure. “For me to be safe?”

He was quiet for a long moment, just watching you, something in his gaze kindling to life, sparking hot right before your eyes. “That’s not all I want.”

You shuddered at his husky tone and the fire in his gaze as he watched you, your own eyes falling away shyly. 

“That’s why I’m here to talk to you.” 

You could feel the heat of his hand hovering over the small of your back before he touched you, and once he did, you swore you could feel your skin tingling beneath the press of his palm, even through your clothes. 

“Look at me,” Steve commanded softly, his big hand sliding up the curve of your spine. 

You followed his directive without pause, and something about that made his gaze warmer, and you thought that maybe he liked the way you followed orders, especially from him. 

“We travel a lot and work even more, and we have very few creature comforts, let alone anyone to come home to, anyone to…take care of us.”

Steve’s eyes dipped to your mouth and the way you nervously gnawed on your lower lip. 

“And that’s what you want from me?” Your breath hitched, your cheeks igniting with heat as you echoed, “You want me to…take care of you? All of you?”

Steve’s lips curled into a smile at the way your voice squeaked. “It’s not exactly traditional, I know, but I think it would be good for my team, and…” his hand found yours, the warmth of his touch making you shiver. “We would be good to you, take care of you, too. Keep you safe.”

Your heart clenched at the very thought - of being safe, of feeling safe. How long had it been since you felt that way? You truly couldn't remember. Most of your life had been spent walking on eggshells and trying your best to be invisible, terrified of bringing attention to yourself, and with it the kind of punishment that you felt for days. 

All you knew about these men–Steve and his team–was that they swarmed into your home tonight and executed your father and brother. 

Would you just be trading one terrifying captor for another?

“And if I said no?" you whispered. "Would you force me? Kill me?”

Steve frowned, shaking his head. “Never. I told you, we don’t hurt the vulnerable or the innocent.” He was quiet for a moment, staring down at where his hand played with yours. 

Gently, he took your hand between his own, turning it over and skimming along your palm with his thumb, smiling a little as your breath hitched loud enough for both of you to hear. 

“If you want no part in this and you want to leave, you’re free to go. Jake’s already hacked into your father’s secret, off-shore bank accounts and he’s setting up an account for you to have access to those funds, so you’ll be set for life. We can drop you off anywhere you want to go and you’ll never see us again.”

You should have rejoiced at the notion - real, true freedom, at last. A fresh start, a new life of your own making. 

And yet, as Steve continued to gently caress your skin, his faint, musky scent filling your nose, you felt an unfamiliar kind of anticipation bubble within you, along with the realization that you didn’t really want to be alone, at least not right now.

Being here, with Steve, it was the safest you had felt in years, and the idea of leaving that behind made anxiety churn within you.

“But,” Steve said the word slowly, his eyes lifting to meet yours, dark blue and earnest as he fixed you in his gaze, “If you decide to stay with us, I promise we’d take such good care of you, make you feel so good.”

His husky tone had your cunt throbbing, all of your hair standing on end as you stared at him with wide eyes and a rush of warmth filled your cheeks. “I-I’ve never…” you trailed off, embarrassment choking off the rest of your confession. 

A flicker of surprise flashed in Steve’s gaze but then his features softened, his palm pressing against your own as he twined your fingers together. 

“I’ll have you first and ease you into it,” he rumbled. “I want you to enjoy it, to want to be here with us. We don’t really have a home, but I think maybe you could be our home, sweetheart.”

It was quick, the swirl of emotions rising up within you like an unforgivable tide, and you couldn’t quite place why his words hit you so hard, but they did. 

Maybe because you hadn’t had a real home since your mother died. You hadn’t felt truly wanted, not like this, ever. 

And now suddenly this beautiful, dangerous man was looking at you like he’d never wanted anything, or anyone, so badly in his life. 

Steve saw it all written across your face, your overwhelm, your emotions, your confusion, and your yearning, too. 

His big hand cupped the side of your throat in an instant, his body turning toward yours as he slowly eliminated the space between you. His thumb caressed along the apple of your cheek just as he tilted his face and heard your breath hitch, and then he was kissing you. 

The sweet, startled sound you made got trapped between your mouths as Steve tugged you closer and kissed you breathless. His lips were somehow patient and frantic at once, his free hand rising so his fingers could trail along your neck, and when you shuddered hard in response, you could feel Steve’s smile against your lips. 

You mewled when he deepened the kiss, his tongue invading your mouth like it had every right to be there, and then you were shifting closer and framing Steve’s face between your hands, trying desperately to keep up with every stroke of his tongue and press of his lips. 

He didn’t pull away until you were frantically gasping for breath in between kisses, his forehead dropping to yours as he smoothed a hand over your head and gave you a moment to collect yourself, smiling at the way you sweetly clung to his shirt as your chest heaved. 

“I want you, we all do,” he murmured, tilting his face and brushing his nose against yours. His gaze met yours, unwavering as he said, “And not just for sex. I saw the way you were earlier with the guys. Taking care of them. Your presence soothes them. It soothes me, too. Can we have you, sweetheart? Can we keep you?”

You were surprised at how quickly you replied, “Yes,” but your surprise quickly faded to a happy sort of pride that you were the reason for the painfully beautiful smile that was now curling Steve’s lips. 

You squeaked as he kissed you again, more fervently this time, your fingers curling against his shirt in response to the onslaught of his passion, but the kiss was over nearly as quickly as it began, and you felt your face flame in mortification at the loud whine of disappointment you let out as Steve pulled away. 

He huffed a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead and giving your head another gentle pet before he was rising to his feet. 

“You have no idea how much I want to lay you out and taste every inch of your body, and I will, make no mistake,” he purred, tickling a finger beneath your chin as you stared up at him with wide eyes. “But not tonight. Tonight you rest and get settled and I’ll discuss how this will work with the team.”

You nodded, unable to help it as you touched your kiss-swollen lips with shaking fingers, still gazing up at him in awe. 

“Fuck,” Steve grunted as he watched you. “You’re so fucking sweet, honey. We’re gonna take such good care of you, like you deserve.”

You glanced away shyly, digging your toes into the plush carpet as you felt Steve watching you. 

A moment later he was shifting closer and kissing the crown of your head, lingering long enough to inhale your soft scent before he finally pulled away. 

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay,” you whispered, peeking up and watching his retreat. “Goodnight.”

He paused at the door, glancing back at you over his shoulder and purring, “Great night,” before shooting you a sinful wink/grin combo that had your insides pooling in your panties. 

And with one last heated look that left not one doubt in your mind that Steve wanted to eat you alive, he slipped from your room and left you to stare after him, your eyes wide and your lips parted as you raised your hand to fan your extremely warm face.

DOES THIS PLOT CONTAIN ANY LOGIC? NO. DO I CARE? NOT AT ALL. BECAUSE HOT MERCENARY SEX ROTATION. YOU’RE WELCOME. lolllll

—

I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘

“I’m not satisfied—” he leaves open what crawled up his ass today, but you know, it’s not the food. James Buchanan Barnes is bad at hiding he despises you when you are alone.

“You are not satisfied?” You chuckle dryly and drop the fork onto the table with a loud clank. “Why don’t you ask me how I feel?” You get up, chair scarping loudly over the expensive parquet.

His eyes darken when you dare to walk toward the end of the huge table. “What is it that bugs you, love?” He spats the last word as if it burned his tongue.

“You!” You throw your hands up. “This marriage is a farce. If I could, I’d be out and about in the blink of an eye. Everything is better than living with an indifferent, moody, and impotent man!”

“IMPOTENT?” Bucky rises from his seat. He squares his jaw and clenches his metal fist. For a second, you’re scared to the bones, but you brush it off.

“YES! If not I wouldn’t ride a pillow every night,” you spat in his face. “Just you know, I’m going to look for a lover first thing today. And I won’t be subtle about it. Everyone knows by now that this marriage is a bad joke. I refuse to be the butt of the joke, though.”

“You won’t ruin the union of our empires over selfish reasons.” You gasp when you end up pressed into the wall, Bucky’s metal hand wrapped around your throat. He leans closer to brush his nose over your cheek. “Even though, I don’t think you’ll find a lover anytime soon. Who would go for you if they can have some other girl? I’d go for someone else too if only I could…”

He drops his hand from your throat and smirks. Bucky steps away, flashes you a smile, and storms out of the dining room.

You stand there, shell-shocked at his outburst as you rub your throat. His words hurt like hell. You drop your eyes to look down at your body. It’s been a while since you felt this kind of hurt. 

Maybe it’s you. Maybe Bucky isn’t interested in being with you because of your looks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Bucky barks outside your shared bedroom. “Woman, I don’t have all day. My parents want to have lunch with the two of us. Just put a smile on and come here.”

You walk out of the bedroom, an armful of your clothes. “I think it’s for the best to not keep the act up. We are married, but this doesn’t mean I must spend time with your father.”

Bucky watches you walk toward the west wing of the mansion. He follows you hot on your heels, all the while throwing questions at you. 

“Where are you going? What are you up to? Y/N, answer me!”

“I’ll stay at the west wing from now on. Annie will help me bring my belongings to the west wing. You can do whatever you want to at your wing. Just stay out of my sight.”

You walk away, leaving Bucky stunned and angry. He grits his teeth and calls you names as you slam the heavy door parting the west wing from the entrance hall shut.

“What the fuck!” He mutters under his breath. So far, you suffered in silence ignoring his unbearable behavior, and the openly shown hatred towards you and your marriage. Now you riot and he doesn’t handle it well.

“Where’s your lovely wife?” George cocks his head as his son sits down on their table. “I thought you said she’ll be here too.”

“She’s not feeling well today,” Bucky lies straight into his father’s face. What else can he do? How shall he explain that the bond your parents forced upon the both of you lies in ruins after not even six months into marriage?

“Ah, she finally snapped,” Winnifred remarks while studying the menu. She smiles to herself, while her husband and Bucky turn their heads toward her. “Good for her. I was rooting for Y/N.”

She slowly closes the menu and lies it down on the table. Winnifred doesn’t give away more. She orders her food and a glass of white wine. Your mother-in-law is in the mood to celebrate.

It wasn’t a lie. She was rooting for you to take matters into your own hands. It took you longer than she liked but now, she’ll lean back and watch her son grovel.

“What do you mean?” Bucky and George say in unison. They are surprised at Winnifred’s answer.

“You forced that lovely woman into marriage and didn’t even try to make her feel welcome. Did you at least give her orgasms?” She chuckles. Bucky’s face turns red, he swallows thickly, and uncomfortably shifts in his seat. “I see. The poor woman suffers in silence.” She sighs now. “Alright, I’ll give her the number of our gardener. He’s got a son who will gladly help Y/N take care of her secret garden.”

“What?” George is at a loss for words while his son tries to forget that his mother was asking him about your non-existent sex life. “Mother!”

“What? I’m a red-blooded woman, just like Y/N. If you don’t find satisfaction with your husband, you must look elsewhere. Men do it all the time.” She shrugs before taking a sip of her white wine. “Y/N is a beautiful woman in her best years. Her sexual drive must be over the top after six months of not getting any attention.”

“Winni, stop saying things like that in public,” George snarls. “You are making a scene.”

“I’m not making a scene,” Winnifred bites back. “I try to make our son see that his wife will turn toward someone else in no time if he doesn’t take care of her every whim soon. You’ll weaken our bond, and this will shatter both of our empires. Is that what you want, son?”

Is that what you want? His mother’s words echoed in his mind the whole way back home. Of course, he doesn’t want to weaken your empires. 

The only purpose of your marriage was to strengthen not only his father’s empire but your father’s empire too.

If you turn toward someone else, an enemy maybe to get back at Bucky, the empires could crumble and fall only because he’s too stubborn to let you inside his life.

Bucky enters the mansion, a grim expression coloring his features. If only you weren’t so infuriating and stubborn he could’ve easily settled for you.

But no.

Y/N Y/L/N is the most annoying and bratty woman he ever met.

Sometimes Bucky believes you’re riling him up on purpose.

“Wait—” he stops in his tracks. Bucky furrows his brows as he tries to recall all of your little fights. “Is she doing it on purpose? Maybe she wants me to lose control and just…”

“Where are you going?” Bucky follows you out of the mansion. “Y/N stop being a brat. I asked you a question and I expect you to answer my damn question!”

“Out,” you glance over your shoulder at Bucky. “Your mother sent me something interesting and now, I want to find out if it’s for me.”

“She did what?” Bucky looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. He pants heavily and clutches his fists to his sides. “You won’t leave the ground for the time being.”

You huff. “Try me.”

He closes the distance between the two of you with three long steps to grab your arm. “Don’t tempt me to throw you over my shoulder! You’ll go back inside and listen to what I have to say.”

You laugh in his face. “Make me!”

Part 2

You started mentally reciting all of the flowers in your mother’s garden out back of the manor. She was long gone and buried for almost a decade now, but you felt her around you anytime you were outside carefully tending to her greenery, trying your best to keep her memory alive in some small way. 

You were just thinking of the white roses that had a whole corner of the garden all their own when you heard low, gruff voices outside of your bedroom door. 

It was never a good sign when your father and or brother came for you after an act of violence. 

It meant that they weren’t quite done wreaking havoc yet, and they seemed to take a perverse sort of joy in prolonging their adrenaline rush—their felt sense of power and superiority—by hurting you. 

Your father always was so very disappointed that you hadn’t been a boy, that you ruined his desire for a brood of sons to mold just like him. 

“You’re too fucking soft and weak, worthless,” he hissed at you on more than one occasion. 

And your brother barely hit his pre-teens before he was spouting the same kind of awful commentary at you, his face just as dark and disgusted as your father’s at your mere existence. 

So you tried your best to be scarce and invisible, never wanting to draw their attention, let alone their ire. 

Especially on nights like tonight. 

But as your doorknob jiggled, it seemed like it was time to be seen, at least for a little while. 

You felt the dread coil in your stomach as you dropped your hands from your ears, pressing your sweaty palms against the wall behind you to try to stop the way you were shaking. 

Or maybe to brace yourself for what was to come in some small way. 

It wasn’t the expected click of a key turning in the padlock on the other side of your bedroom door that you heard next, but the sound of a solitary gunshot that had you jolting and gasping in fear. 

Why would they need a gun to get through the lock?

Unless…

Unless it wasn’t your father or brother on the other side of your bedroom door. 

Your heart hammered faster than before, and you swallowed against the dryness in your throat as your door slowly swung open and two large figures filled the doorway. 

They were far too large and broad to be your father and brother, and they were dressed in tactical gear and held automatic rifles. 

Your eyes were wide with shock and fear as they met the surveying ice blue gaze of the bigger of the two. He was tall and lean, the firm curves of his muscles obvious beneath his black military sweater. His hair was dark and shorn close to his head, matching the dark beard that shadowed his pale skin. 

His intent gaze slowly dipped from your face, a tic popping in his jaw as you trembled harder at the intense, calculating look in his eyes. 

But it was the delighted voice of his counterpart as he finally caught sight of you that had you startling and barely suppressing a whimper as he sauntered around the other man and moved closer to you.

“My, oh my, looky what we found,” he purred as he leered at you. 

He wasn’t as tall as the other man, but he was just as impressively built. Fair and handsome despite the dark mustache adorning his upper lip, with brown hair that was shaved at the sides and pushed back from his face. His dark blue eyes had a mischievous sort of sparkle as he touched his tongue to his teeth and kept on talking. 

“Who are you, doll face? You their mistress? Nightly entertainment?”

“Why would they lock her in here if she was either of those?” the other man asked as he shifted closer to get a better look at you. “Who are you?”

The firm, authoritative snap of his voice had something inside of you fluttering then clenching, and you didn’t even hesitate to answer. 

You gave them your name, the sound of it a shaky whisper falling from your lips as they shared a look of surprise. 

“A daughter never came up in any of our intel,” The first one, the scarier of the two, murmured. 

The other shrugged, “Guess it’s our lucky day, Everett, what do you want me to tell ya?” 

Impish eyes refocused on you as the second man crouched before you, his eyes dipping from your frightened face to your chest before snapping back up. 

“I'm Lloyd, and boy is it a pleasure to meet you," his grin was wolfish and had you hugging yourself tighter. "Here’s the deal, pumpkin, your old man and shithead brother are kaput,” he drew his finger along the width of his neck, a universal gesture that you knew meant death and had your breath catching in terror. 

“A-are you going to kill me, too?” You quavered. 

He faux pouted at you before grinning, leaning in to purr, “Not if you make it worth our while, sweetness.”

“Hansen,” the other man snapped. 

Before he could get much further than that, another man, even bigger than these two, confidently strode into the room. 

He was so tall he towered over the others, his shoulders insanely broad and his waist almost absurdly narrow in comparison. His hair was dark blonde and swept back from his breathtakingly beautiful face, which was covered by a full, thick beard. 

“What’s taking so long?” He snapped. And then he pulled up short beside the other two men, his eyes landing on you and lingering. “I see.”

“Seems daddy dearly departed had a secret knockout of a daughter,” Lloyd grinned in delight as he rose to his feet. “Can we keep her?”

The one called Everett leaned closer to the new arrival, who seemed to be the one in charge. “We found her locked in here, like a prisoner.”

Something intense shadowed the leader’s bright blue gaze as he moved closer and crouched in front of you. He just watched you for a moment, his eyes flickering down the length of your body, lingering on your thin sleep dress and bare legs before meeting your wide gaze. 

“Why did they keep you locked in here?” he asked.

“Because they hated me,” you answered honestly. “My father wanted another son, not a daughter, and he thought I was a waste and a disappointment.”

There was a long beat of tense silence as he watched you, his eyes once again surveying you, but in a different way this time. 

In a way that made you suddenly realize and self-conscious of how your shoulders were hunched forward and you were hugging yourself like your own touch could somehow keep you safe and unharmed.

Which you knew well by now that it definitely couldn’t.

“Did they hurt you?” his voice was gentler this time.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you thought back to all the times your father lashed you with his belt, or your brother pinched your skin until you cried and begged him to stop hurting you. 

You thought of the many mornings you avoided your own reflection in the mirror because you didn’t want to see the reminders of their hatred marring your skin. 

You swallowed back your tears, nodding as you whispered, “Yes, all the time."

Something in the man’s gaze flashed hot and furious, but somehow, some way, you just knew that his ire wasn’t directed at you, but at what you had endured at the hands of those who were supposed to love you. 

“What’s your name?” You told him and he nodded before introducing himself. “I’m Steve.” He paused and watched you for a long beat, seemingly getting lost in your big, scared gaze before continuing, “You’re going to come with us for now, and you’re going to behave, do you understand?”

Your throat jumped on a nervous swallow as you glanced behind him, to the first two men who had found you, and another two who had joined the rest. 

One was lean and pale with long, dark stringy hair and a pinched look about him. The other was another big, muscly soldier with spiky blonde hair and glasses, his lips curling into a friendly smile as your gaze met his and he gave a little wave of acknowledgement. 

Your eyes flickered back to the leader, Steve, and you couldn’t help but ask, “Are you going to kill me?”

“No.”

“A-are…are you going to hurt me?”

Something in his gaze softened as he watched you. “No, we don’t hurt innocents, especially women and children. We just take out the bad guys.”

And if you knew anything, it was that your father and brother had definitely been that.

Slowly, Steve held out his big, rough hand to you, and you stared at it for a moment before placing your own trembling hand in his. 

You heard something in his breathing shift for a split second, not quite a hitch in his breath but close to, as he realized how much smaller your hand was than his. 

You shivered as his thumb brushed over your knuckles, and then he was gently pulling you to a stand along with him. 

“Get dressed and pack a bag of essentials. You have ten minutes, understand?”

You nodded shakily, hugging yourself as you realized you were barely dressed and under the gaze of so many big, scary men. 

“Curtis, you stay with her," Steve ordered. "The rest of you, let’s finish securing the property before departure.”

“Why can’t I stay with her?” Lloyd huffed, looking put out as he glared at Steve. 

Steve’s eyes narrowed as they landed on him. “Because I know you wouldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“So? We all know how it’s gonna play out with our new toy anyway—“ he grunted as Steve fisted the front of his shirt and yanked him close, until they were nose to nose. 

“It’s gonna play out how I say it’s gonna play out. Now get your ass downstairs and finish securing the site.”

Sneering, Lloyd gave Steve a sarcastic, sloppy salute before shoving past him, then Curtis and following the others into the hallway and out of sight. 

Sparing you a final, lingering look, Steve glanced at Curtis, reaffirming, “Ten minutes,” before he was turning on his heel and striding from the room. 

You stared after him, your lashes fluttering as you blinked and struggled to process everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. 

Both your father and brother were dead. And now you were being taken by their murderers and–

“Hey.”

The deep rumble of Curtis’ voice had you jumping and your eyes snapping to him. 

“Get dressed and pack a bag.”

You nodded, darting toward your dresser and rifling through it until you were pulling out a pair of black leggings, a white T-shirt, and an oversized sweater to go over top of it. You hesitated before pulling out a bra and a pair of socks, your cheeks burning as you felt Curtis’ gaze on you. 

Unwavering. 

“Can you…can you please turn around so I can get changed?” You trembled as you held your clothes to your chest. 

Curtis’ eyes sparkled at you, seeming darker than before, his lips quirking just a hair as he murmured, “Afraid not. I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I let you out of my sight, now would I?”

When you just stared at him like a deer in headlights, he moved closer, until he was looming over you and your head was tilting back to meet his gaze. 

Curtis’ eyes slowly fell from your face and lower, until you swore you could feel his gaze and your body was wracking with a shiver that ran from your head to your toes. 

“Get. Dressed,” he murmured, his eyes snapping back to yours and shining with satisfaction as you nodded jerkily before turning to drop your clothes on the foot of your bed so you could change. 

You only hesitated briefly before tugging on your leggings beneath your sleep dress to try to preserve some sense of modesty. Then you were pulling your sleep dress up and over your head, keeping your bare back to Curtis and hyper-aware of his hot gaze burning into you the entire time. 

When his rough voice reached your ears a second later, you couldn’t help the way you paused in tugging on your bra, your stomach swooping and all of your hair rising to attention as he purred:

“Good girl.”

Y'ALL. I AM SO NOT OKAY. PLEASE, SEND HELP! 🆘 (Okay but now I'm looking at that emoji and laughing at the thought of it standing for, "Send other sinners." lollllll)

—

I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘

She smirked at you, her eyes both twinkling and knowing as she continued to lean outside of her own pitched tent that she was sharing with Clay. “And why’s that?”

You just pouted at her, refusing to answer.

Besides, you didn’t really need to, because you knew she knew about your crush on Jake. You weren’t great at being subtle, and sometimes your eyes wandered without your permission, and it was likely that the entire team–save for the oblivious man himself–knew you were all googly eyed for your in-the-field bestie.

Like an idiot.

“You’re so mean,” you huffed, sticking your bottom lip out further in hopes she’d take pity on you. 

“Have fun!” she sang instead, turning you on your heel and aiming you Jensen’s way. “And be sure to wrap it before you tap it!”

She shoved you forward, and as your arms pinwheeled at your sides to keep you on your feet, you shot her one final death glare over your shoulder. 

Aisha so wasn’t your friend anymore, and it was her loss.

Still pouting, you slowly made your way to where Jake was diligently setting up the tent you would share with him for the evening. Your eyes flickered in the opposite direction, where Pooch and Cougar were already settled in and digging beers from a cooler.

Sighing, you couldn’t help but smile a little. 

You really did love this group of murdery misfits, and you were happy to be a part of them.

Well, minus the murdery bits, those weren’t your favorite.

Once you pulled up beside Jake, you realized just how far away he was setting up your own area, and you commented on it as you crossed your arms and stood beside him.

“Heh, yeah,” Jake grinned, rubbing at the back of his neck as a rosy flush lit his cheeks. “Clay and Aisha can get loud, because sex, and Pooch and Cougar can get loud, because drunk. So.” He shrugged, waving a muscled arm toward your makeshift home for the evening. “Plus, I found this gap in the trees so we should be able to do some stargazing…”

He dropped his head back and pointed up to where the enormously tall trees eventually thinned out and revealed a patch of clear sky high above you. 

Jake looked so excited by this small thing–the thought of stargazing–that you couldn’t help the soft, dopey smile that curled your lips as you watched him.

He was just the sweetest.

Realizing that you hadn’t responded to his gushing, he glanced over at you, looking abashed before trying to shrug it off and play it cool, “Uh, ya know, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“It sounds great,” you smiled, bright and genuine, as you squeezed his shoulder.

Jake perked up, his eyes warming as they flickered between your own. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You gave his shoulder another squeeze, resisting the temptation to grope his very impressive muscles before ducking into the tent to get yourself settled.

Completely unaware of Jake’s soft, “Cool,” and the way he was grinning like an idiot as he stared after you much longer than was necessary, or just friends appropriate.

A few hours later, as the full darkness of night settled over your small camp, Jake assembled the last s'more to be made with your limited supplies before splitting it in half and offering you a share. 

You pulled your tilted gaze from the star-speckled sky as you leaned back against the log beside the small fire Jake had started for you both. Knocking your shoulder against his as you accepted his sugary offering, you couldn’t help drowning in your soft girl feels as you told him, “You’re very thoughtful, Jake.”

“I am?” he wondered aloud as he finished off his s’more half and licked chocolate and marshmallow bits from his fingers.

Your eyes lingered on his mouth for a beat before you were giggling at his antics and genuine surprise that you found him thoughtful. 

“Yeah. Sharing. Picking the perfect spot for stargazing. Bringing those extra sleeping bags because you know I get cold,” you listed as you polished off your own snack.

“Well,” Jake shrugged, his ears pink as he hunkered down beside you and folded his arms over his broad chest. “You get super cranky when you’re cold, and even though it’s really cute, I didn’t want you to be miserable out here all night.”

Your dopey grin made a return as you murmured, “You think I’m cute?”

“I mean, you’re gorgeous, obviously,” Jake replied without thinking. And then he went still, like he just realized what he actually said out loud. His eyes went as big as dinner plates as he stared at you, blushing furiously and sputtering a little. “Uh, I mean, well, it’s true. But don’t hit me or shoot me because I think so, okay? I know Aisha’s taught you some of her moves.”

He thinks I’m cute and gorgeous, you squeed internally, drinking in Jake’s flustered state as he actively, worriedly avoided your gaze. 

And just like that, after months and months of trying your best to rein in your crush and be professional and think with your upstairs brain…

“To hell with it!” you declared, throwing caution to the wind as you promptly pounced on Jake and nearly sent the two of you rolling into the fire in your enthusiasm. 

Thankfully, Jake and his big, well-trained muscles easily maneuvered you away from what could have been your crispy demise, holding you securely on top of him as he stared up at you in amazement.

And then, you actually saw the twinkle of mischief spark to life in his eyes as he said, “I know you’re hot for me, but you don’t need to set us on fire to get your point across.”

You burst into laughter, your own cheeks warm with embarrassment, but you shook it off quickly as you dipped close and kissed Jake for the very first time. 

His soft noise of surprise had your insides clenching, but once his big hand shifted to cradle the back of your head and hold you in place as his lips eagerly joined the kissing fray, you knew he was all in. 

And that revelation felt amazing.

But still not as amazing as kissing Jake felt.

So you focused on that for a few moments instead, slowing your frenzied roll as you gently cupped Jake’s cheek and tilted your head for better access. You moaned at the soft press of his plush lips to yours, tasting notes of sweet chocolate and even sweeter marshmallow on his tongue as you deepened the kiss and earned a quiet grunt from the back of Jake’s throat for your effort. 

Eventually, when oxygen and the need for it became an issue, you pulled away, lingering close as your fingers ruffled through Jake’s soft hair and you met his lust-blown gaze that was the warmest it had ever been. 

“Wow,” he whispered against your lips, unable to stop himself from stealing another quick peck. 

Your smile was fond before a modicum of sense returned to your brain and your eyes flickered around the camp in alarm to see if anyone had seen.

Not that you wanted to keep this a secret, but you also weren’t an exhibitionist, and for tonight, at least, you wanted this–whatever it was–to only be between you and Jake.

“I think that maybe we should settle in for the night,” you whispered.

“Oh,” Jake frowned, looking extremely disappointed. When you raised your eyebrows and gave him a look, he finally got it. “Oh.” Immediately the disappointment was chased from his handsome features by excitement.

You both scrambled to your feet, making quick work of putting out the fire and gathering your things before tripping into your tent together. 

You were breathless with laughter as Jake nearly tackled you atop your sleeping bags, shifting until his big body was settling between your legs, like you had dreamt about for ages. 

His lips were back on yours before you could utter a word, and you hummed your delight, your hands wandering Jake’s broad, muscled back as he licked his way into your mouth and groaned as his tongue touched yours. 

Your cunt clenched at that primal sound, and you squirmed beneath him, a needy whine working its way up the back of your throat as your hands skimmed down until you were cupping Jake’s ass and yanking him against the cradle of your thighs in invitation. 

“I’ve waited long enough,” you panted once he pulled away. “I need you inside me, Jake. Please.”

“Oh god,” he whispered, dropping his forehead to yours. And then something occurred to him, and his head popped up, his eyes sparkling with happiness when they met yours. “You’ve wanted this for a long time, too?”

You nodded, your hands falling to shove down your leggings and panties in one go. “So long, so please, for the love of god, put me and my lady parts out of our misery.”

Snickering, Jake leaned back, shrugging off his zip-up hoodie. His graphic tee went next, flung to the other corner of your tent before he was quickly shucking his jeans and boxer briefs and near face-planted into your now bare breasts.

“Oh my goddd, this is the best,” Jake hnggghed, his big hands groping at your tits and giving them a good squeeze as he teased one peaked nipple with his mouth before showing the other just as much devotion. 

Gasping, you arched up into him, eyes fluttering at his thorough attention as his ministrations chased the evening chill from your body. “Jake, please.”

When he finally pulled away, his lips were swollen and parted, cherry pink too, his glasses askew on the bridge of his nose and a little fogged up. 

Smiling, you reached for them. “Do you need these to see me?”

“No, not up close,” he whispered, lashes fluttering against his rosy cheeks as you carefully plucked his glasses from his nose, folded them, and set them safely aside. “Thanks.”

Jake’s big body was still nearly vibrating with excitement, but there was also a seriousness to him that you weren’t used to seeing, not when it was just the two of you, and especially not when you were outside of a mission. 

“Everything okay?” you asked, feeling suddenly nervous. 

Oh god, what if he was regretting this?

Instead, Jake smiled at you, warm and earnest as he murmured, “Yeah.” He shifted, sinking his big body more firmly against yours. “I just…I'm really happy this is happening, and I want to make it good for you.”

You sighed dreamily, relief easing the tension from your body as your hand lifted to cradle Jake’s cheek. “We’ll make it good for each other. Well, once we finally get started.”

He laughed at your faux stink eye, shifting and resting his body weight on one hand beside your head while the other moved between your bodies. Jake’s breath hitched when his fingers touched your bare cunt for the first time, swallowing at your soft moan and the way you eagerly spread your legs wider for him.

“Feel good?” he whispered, his eyes drinking in each and every one of your minute reactions, especially the way you nodded at him, your eyes already looking a little hazy as you met his gaze. 

“Yeah,” you hummed, mewling when his thick fingers applied more pressure to your clit before parting your folds and teasing along your drippy, clenching hole. “Fuck, Jake. I need you, for reeeeeal.”

Huffing a laugh, Jake finally relented, and a second later, you felt the head of his cock catching on your entrance. His eyes were fixated on yours as he carefully tilted his hips and pushed into you for the first time, watching the way your mouth fell open at the feel of him stretching you wide and slowly filling you up.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut and hitching your legs around Jake’s narrow hips.

He grunted as you yanked him against you and made him shove into you the rest of the way, until he was balls deep and moaning against your neck.

“S’tight and warm oh my god,” his words were muffled against the top of your chest.

Giggling, you clenched around him on purpose, feeling him groan against your skin before he was popping his head up and scowling at you. 

“Unless you want me to blow my load before the fun starts…”

Laughing, you twined your arms around his neck, tugging him close for a round of slow, languid kisses. When Jake started to slowly rock against you, he caught each and every one of your gasps and mewls against his lips before he was nuzzling your nose with his, burying his face against the crook of your neck, and really fucking you.

You moaned at the first full retreat and surge of his cock inside of you, eyes rolling back in your head when he slightly shifted the angle of his hips on the next plunge and hit a spot so sweet inside of you that you had to muffle your ragged keen by biting his bare shoulder.

Which only made Jake rut into you harder.

Soon, the two of you fell into a frenzied, enthusiast kind of fucking. Your bodies rocking and writhing together, finding all the angles and pressure points to drive the other wild. 

And yet, each time Jake’s desire-darkened gaze found yours, it was so warm, and you knew you were looking at him the exact same way, because you had wanted this for so long.

You had both wanted this for so long. 

Even in the throes of passion, Jake was sweet, stealing soft kisses from your lips and making your pussy flutter as your heart rejoiced. When the drive of his hips started to lose its rhythm, his big hand found yours, palms pressing close and fingers entwining as he dropped his forehead to yours and stared deep into your eyes. 

“You feel so good. M’gonna cum,” he panted against your lips. “Can I–”

“Yeah, cum inside me,” you begged softly, clinging to him tighter and distantly so fucking grateful for your birth control. “Let me feel you, Jakey.”

Jake hnnnghed as your hand trailed along his spine, up then down before you were grabbing a handful of his bare ass and encouraging the final few drives of his cock to shove even harder and deeper than before. 

Head dropping beside your own, Jake’s groan of completion filled your ear as he jerked against you. 

You were quick to drop your hand between your bodies, furiously rubbing at your clit as you focused on the feel of Jake’s cock throbbing inside of you, his hips pumping those last few times as he filled you up with his warm, sticky cream.

“Yessss,” you keened softly as your orgasm finally crashed over you. Your body went haywire as bliss flooded through your veins, all of your muscles clenching then releasing over and over again as your satisfied pussy did the same.

Jake moaned as your cunt clenched around him, milking the last few dregs of cum from his body before he was sagging against you, completely spent and clinging to you like an oversized barnacle.

“This is the best camping trip I’ve ever been on,” he panted.

You giggled at Jake’s muffled words, your naked body shaking beneath his with mirth–and joy too–as your fingers trailed his bare body and you enjoyed the feeling of his weight on top of you for a few moments.

Once his breathing was normal again, Jake raised his head, his warm eyes finding yours, a glimmer of concern aimed your way as he asked, “Was that okay?”

“You sweet puppy,” you grinned at him, ruffling his hair and cupping his cheek to pull him close. “That was incredible. Perfect. Unforgettable. 11/10 would fuck again.”

“Good,” Jake laughed, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Because if you think you’re getting rid of me after that, you are sorely mistaken, gorgeous.”

Eyes sparkling and heart happy, you tilted your face up, letting your lips linger against his without moving before you replied, “I’m glad we’re finally on the same page, Jakey. Now kiss me so we can seal this deal for good.”

And he did.

Ahhhh! These two sweet babies! I love that this Reader is kind of a human disaster too lol. That is becoming one of my favorite personalities to write 😍I’d really appreciate it if you took a moment to leave me a reblog or comment! Thank you!

—

I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘