#dj will answer

You tried to focus on fixing your hair, but the weight of his gaze on you in the mirror was distracting as hell. There were a few other things that had changed about you in the last few weeks: your appetite, your energy level, but the best and the worst was your sex drive.

“You’re staring again,” you murmured, meeting his gaze in the mirror and trying to pretend you didn’t want him to slut you out. 

“Sorry,” offered Bucky, who was leaning on the wall behind you, smirking and probably reading your mind. 

He was definitely not sorry.

“Can’t help it, Frumoasă.”

You raised an eyebrow at him over your shoulder at his cracked voice.

“You can’t?”

You destroyed him with a look. He couldn’t take how beautiful you were. You standing there, no makeup, all that hair, his white shirt and panties. He never knew that Jockey that made lingerie to turn him on, but here you were.

And Bucky was so weak for you.

“No. I can’t. You’re too beautiful.”

But the way he was looking at you, eyes burning you, that tongue peeking out of his mouth as if recalling your taste on his lips; it made you shiver. 

Bucky strode toward you, so gotdamn handsome in the mirror that you didn’t want to turn around and see the real thing.

He was clad only in low slung grey sweatpants, the bulge in them growing by the second, his abs standing out, his tiny nipples erect. The medal on his golden skin gleamed and you longed to bite it between your teeth as he stroked his thick cock inside you.

Bucky Barnes’ blue gaze had you in a chokehold.

Fuck, you wished he would choke you while he fucked you hard, but he stopped with the breath play the moment he found out you were pregnant.

Your eyes glazed over and your mouth dropped open in a small pant as your pussy clenched down on nothing, thinking of how Bucky handled you on his cock.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Frumoasă?” Bucky teased, eyes locked on you when you turned your dreamy eyes on him. 

You pretended you didn’t notice and refocused on arranging your curls. The sharp points of your breasts under his shirt might have been a clue however, and if he could see between your legs, he might have ascertained a wet spot. 

Bucky’s voice was low and rough around the edges as he moved closer to you, watching as you as your fingers pulled through your hair again, your arms akimbo and offering the perfect view of your body.

He also didn’t miss the smile that played on your lips after what he asked. He knew what you were thinking.

Your hands fell from your thick hair to your hips and your eyes zeroed in on his bulge.

“My eyes are up here, Baby.”

Bucky’s firm hands were sliding over your hips now, pulling you back against him. His lips brushed your shoulder. 

Slow. Lazy. Possessive.

His hands moved to your belly, his fingers spreading possessively over the softness there. There was only the slightest change, but Bucky noticed everything. His breath moved over your neck and made you shiver as he kept eye contact in the mirror.

“Bucky… got to get ready,” you murmured, trying to ignore the way his fingers smoothed down the curve of your waist. 

“Not yet…” 

A hand slid under the hem of the shirt. You inhaled shakily. 

“I woke up, and you weren’t in bed.” 

His voice was low, rough, and thick with desire. 

You swallowed hard. 

“Because I was getting ready to—“

 “You’re supposed to be in my arms,” he interrupted.

His words sent heat through your body as his hands tightened on your hips. And you felt him, hard, ready, and pressing against you from behind. 

You gripped the vanity with trembling fingers. He chuckled, his hips pressing into you. 

“You’re wearing my shirt, looking like this, carrying my baby. You’re killing me,” he looked up at you in the mirror those blue eyes destroying your soul.

“You know that right? You drive me crazy,” he murmured, voice thick with need as his hands glided higher over your ribs, fingertips tracing the sensitive skin beneath your breasts. 

You gasped, body weak against the hard planes of his torso and Bucky groaned, his large hands extending and gripping your nipples gently. He rolled them lightly, his hands working under his shirt, and a moan escaped you. 

“Fuck, you’re sensitive, aren’t you?” 

You didn’t have time to respond before he spun you around, lifted you on top of the counter, and stepped between your legs. Bucky’s hands slid up your thighs, pushing them wider. 

And just like that, going out was forgotten because Bucky was between your legs, his long, hard cock pressing against your melting pussy, kissing you like he was starving. His palms were hot on your skin, fingers gripping, claiming, and dragging you closer. 

You gasped into his mouth, and he deepened the hot, slow, and delicious kiss like you two had all the time in the world. 

Like he wanted to devour you.

“Bucky, Baby—” 

You barely got his name out before his fingers tightened, and suddenly your back was pressed to the mirror, legs wrapped around his waist, body caged in by his. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and yanked it open, baring your skin to his. 

You shivered at the way his eyes darkened as they swept over you, hunger rolling off him.

“Shoulda stayed in bed, baby,” he murmured, trailing his lips down your neck and his hands spreading you wider. 

“I was going to meet Peach for brunch,” you whimpered. 

In the back of your mind, you were certain that this was a plan between him and Steve to keep you both in the house after what happened in Atlanta after New Years. 

Bucky chuckled, his breath hot against your skin and his teeth grazing your collarbone. 

“I’m sure she’s busy as well.” 

You shook your head and smirked as his mouth moved lower, dragging down your stomach, over your hip, until he was kneeling between your legs.

“Can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice dropping into a rough whisper as he looked up at you with those baby blues.

“About this body. About what we made together. About how deep a part of me lives inside you.”

His hand drifted over your stomach, then slid down to the waistband of your panties, teasing.

Your breath hitched, “Bucky!” 

His palmed your clit and slipped three fingers along the cut of you, playing in your slick, teasing. 

“So fucking wet. Here, taste.”

And he inserted his wet fingers into your mouth. Your eyes closed as you sucked yourself off of him, but they flew open when you felt something sharp and cold against your skin. 

Bucky had picked up your hair shears from the vanity and was using them to cut your panties off.

“James!”

Bucky outright laughed as you moved your mouth and prepared to gripe at him, until he got on his knees. He settled between your legs, pushing between them with his shoulders and stared at you.

You were glistening, slick and swollen, your body so fucking ready for him. 

He dragged his wet fingers through your folds, pressing just enough to make your breath catch, just enough to make your hips jerk up.

You were desperate for more. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, watching you fall apart. 

You whimpered, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. He slid a finger inside you, slow and deep, watching as you gasped, your body clenching around him. 

“So tight. So fucking perfect.” 

Bucky added another, stretching, preparing, feeling your pussy adjust to him. 

You moaned, arched, writhed, and it was the most beautiful fucking thing Bucky had ever seen. 

He leaned forward and dragged his tongue through your slick heat, tasting, devouring, and feeling your body tremble under his grip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, gripping, and begging for more.

“Please, Bucky, please!!!”

Your fiancé smirked into your pussy. 

“Impatient?”

You whimpered, your hips jerking as he held you down, licking slowly, deeply, watching you come undone.

“You’re perfect like this,” he mumbled into your cunt.

At this point, you were shaking and gasping. Bucky didn’t stop until you were arching off the vanity, crying out his name, legs shaking around his head as you came.

He wiped his mouth as he watched you come down and trying to close your legs although he still had one thigh in his grip.

Your drooping eyes widened as he lowered the waistband of his sweats, pulled you forward by your hip, and lined himself up.

“Need more. Need to be inside you.” 

“Please!”

It was an over stimulated plea, but it died on your lips in a moan. Bucky held your gaze as he pushed inside your wet, hot pussy.

“Tight,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Fucking perfect.”

Your fingers clenched his shoulders and you let out a breathy moan, making him almost lose it right there. Bucky sunk deeper, feeling your body stretch to accommodate him.

“That’s it, mama. Take every fucking inch of my fat cock.”

He groaned, burying himself to the hilt, feeling you tighten and pulse around him, sucking him in deeper. 

Bucky pulled back and thrusted back hard, watching the way you face twisted in pleasure.

“Mine.”

He said it aloud this time. 

Bucky gripped your hips, pinning you down, fucking you slow and deep. He gripped your jaw and forced you to look at him.

“Eyes on me.”

His voice was rough and demanding.

“That’s it. Take me. Take all of this cock.”

Your nails dragged down his back until you were too weak to hold on, your body shuddering from wave after wave of pleasure, which spiked when the splashes of his hot cum hit the convulsing walls of your cunt.

Bucky held you tight and kissed the top of your head.

“You don’t leave the bed without saying good morning.”

“Yes, Sir. Good morning, Sir.”

“Smartass. Let’s teach it a lesson.”

You thought Bucky Barnes was done.

But when you slid down to your feet, he turned you around and bent you over the sink. You felt his cock get hard again and press against your bottom.

You gasped.

“James!”

They were nothing dramatic, just some pretty little pink peonies and roses with a card that you’d written to yourself.

But Henry, your boss, your gruff, frustrating, inspiring, six-foot-two, broad-shouldered, dark haired, storm-eyed asshole of a boss, apparently, didn’t see it that way. 

—--

You’d worked for Henry for a little over 14 months, and there had been a tension between you since your interview when he just sat there and stared at you as if you were some alien sent from a distant world. 

Despite that, he grilled you about your personal vision, told you he admired your qualifications and you were hired. 

What ensued was a year of hard, but gratifying work with a company that valued diversity and helping the planet. Henry Cavil was the CEO of that company, and as his assistant, you weren’t just a glorified secretary. 

You were right-hand to changing the world.

Henry seemed to care for nothing but work, and was professional to the point of extreme with you, even when you two worked late and long hours side by side.

Holidays were unimportant to him, weekends were just another day, and he didn’t seem to notice that you might feel differently.

You didn’t, but it would have been nice to have been asked.

It would have been nice if he noticed you as a human, if he asked about your family, what you liked to do in your free time....Whatever that was. 

And sometimes, you looked up to see him looking at you as if he were going to ask about one of those things, but in each instance, he just looked back down to what he was working on, continuing with the discussion at hand. 

You let it slide, because being by his side was all that you wanted. Even if he just tolerated you. 

Because you were in love with him. Since the moment before he offered you the job at the end of your interview. 

You could help millions of people around the world, but you couldn’t help yourself from falling in love with Henry, a man at least ten years your senior who was emotionally unavailable.

You were a sad case.

Your boss was your secret obsession, the man who’d starred in your most delicious fantasies for far too long. 

But Henry would never take a second look at you romantically. 

You were doll-sized next to him, you’re too nerdy, too curvy, and too headstrong to be the kind of compliant arm candy that you heard he went for. You were destined to pine for your boss with the superhero looks, destined to be the sidekick in the romance of his life.

—---

Henry had been in torment for 14 months 12 days, and 7 hours, the moment you walked into his office for your interview. And he’d been in love with you for 14 months, 12 days, 6 hours and 45 minutes.

But he vowed that you should never know how he felt while sentencing himself to the daily torture of working side by side with you every day.

He tried to put you out of his head, but his favorite thing was to send you ahead of him to meetings and to fall in behind you on the long walk to the boardroom, your sumptuous ass giving him lots of spank bank material. 

Every night he went home to shower, fuck his hand, and paint the tiled wall with copious amounts of spend as he thought of the way you looked that day and your adorable little quirks: 

The faint smiles you gave him when you thought he wasn’t looking. 

How you nibbled on that fucking sexy bottom lip when you were deep in thought and gazing at him, or hunched over your laptop and typing away. 

The way that you walked, those tempting curves of yours that made him ache to throw you over his shoulder and have his way with you.

Henry had ordered you the finest oak desk that he could find during your first week on the job. The glass one in the office was fine, but would be a bit flimsy in the off chance that he should throw you over it and eat you out until his jaw was sore and until your voice grew hoarse from screaming his name.

You’d been the fire in his blood for the entire time he’d known you, and he couldn’t help himself from being irretrievably under your spell.

But instead of telling you that, for the last 14 months, he'd settled for every minute that he could wring from you for work, because there could never be anything more than that.

—---

This evening, Henry had stopped in your office doorway with menus for dinner, when he saw the flowers and crossed his arms over his huge chest.

Your eyes slid down his form, noticing how the sleeves of his crisp white button down strained around his biceps, the vest he was wearing highlighted the thick inverted triangle of his body, and his dark slacks hugged his muscular thighs. 

It should be illegal for him to look that fucking good, especially at this hour in the evening, on this night of love. You looked up at him, at his dark eyebrows drawn together over those piercing blue eyes, looking at the bouquet like it personally insulted him. 

Then he looked at you.

There was heat in his gaze, something that made your toes curl in your heels, and for a moment you were frozen. Damn, he was hot, especially when he was perturbed. 

"Who sent them?"

His deep voice was low and calm, but there was a dangerous edge to his sexy ass British accent. Goosebumps raised on your skin.

You were caught between confusion and a being flustered from direct attention from him. He usually avoided eye contact and more than a few grunts at a time, so this was new.

Henry was always intimidating, but tonight, he was also extra attractive, with his tie loosened, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his dark curls slightly messy as if he'd been running his hands through it.

Oh, and it didn’t help that his jaw was clenching and his blue eyes seemed to be burning.

"Excuse me?" you asked, keeping your voice as neutral as possible. 

You were tired, but there was a deadline to meet, despite the fact that this was a night for lovers. 

You two were the perfect pair to still be at work, because you were the furthest thing from romantics. You and Henry were workaholics, dedicated to your job, with no time for love.

Henry’s gaze flicked to the small card nestled between the flowers. 

You knew exactly what it said.

You are desirable. You are unforgettable. You deserve to be loved the way you love others.

A self-affirmation just for you. Something no one else was supposed to see.

But when Henry read it, he mistook the meaning.

"So who is he?"

His look was dark and his eyes were stormy, causing your stomach to drop.

"What?"

Henry’s fists clenched at his sides. 

"The person who sent these. The one who wrote you that." 

His voice dropped lower, like he was trying to hold back something. 

"Who. Is. He?"

You realized that he thought you had someone. And he sounded jealous. But that would be…

No. It was impossible. 

Your pulse became erratic with the thought

Henry was always particular: demanding, impatient, exacting. But he was also never unfair and never once let you fail. He always pushed you to be better and gave you glowing performance reviews, even when his actions conveyed that you were the most frustrating person on the planet to him.

You always assumed that he just tolerated you. That you annoyed him. But at the moment, he looked like a man barely holding himself together because he thought someone else had sent you flowers.

This was a development.

Before you could respond, Henry stepped closer to you. You tilted your head back to gaze up at him towering over you, broad and built like a damn brick wall. One that you wanted and needed to climb. 

"You didn’t answer me," he murmured, voice rough. Boy, those eyes could chill you to the bone.

"Why do you care?"

You were perturbed now, and it was clear in your response. 

Henry’s jaw ticked and something flashed in his eyes, there and gone too quickly for you to analyze.

“Careful, Little One.”

He’d never called you that, so you cocked your head with curiosity and watched as he sat on the edge of your desk, hiking his pants up on his legs, showcasing his massive thighs, and yes, the long, thick rod between them. 

Your eyebrows shot up and your eyes went wide, too surprised at his words and actions to pull the well-practiced mask over your features.

Henry caught you looking, but you didn’t catch the way his mouth hooked up in a half smile at your reaction. 

You licked your lips and watched as his hand moved slowly upward, until he was brushing his fingers over the petals of one of the roses. The act felt intimate, like he was imagining something else beneath his fingertips. 

Or maybe you were the one imagining.

“You deserve to be loved the way you love others," he repeated, more softly. 

He gazed at you, eyes blazing. 

"And you think this guy, whoever he is, can give you that?"

Your throat went dry. You should’ve just told him the truth. But you didn’t.

Because you knew he was jealous. And he was about to lose it. And you wanted to see what happened when he did. 

You chucked your chin up at him, a challenge.

"And what if he can?"

Henry knew he was pathetic because you were his employee, and he had no claim to you, no right to feel possessive at the thought of you with another man. 

But that didn’t stop him from wanting to track down the mutherfucker that sent you those flowers and beat him to a bloody pulp. And that didn't stop him from wanting to grab you and kiss you until you realized that you were fucking his. 

That you’d always been his, from the moment you first looked him in the eye.

The air between you crackled with energy as his entire body tensed as he stood up again, those massive hands curling into fists like he was restraining himself from something. His jaw flexed, his breath deepened, and he reached out for you, hand on your waist, drawing you in to press you against his very solid body. 

And then Henry’s mouth was on yours, hot and demanding and so fucking perfect that you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but give in.

You grunted in surprise as his full lips pressed on yours and his delicious tongue slid inside your mouth. All of your senses came alive in a cacophony of sight, taste, smell, and sound. And of course, touch.

You let yourself melt into his kiss, reaching up and tugging at the soft curls rioting over his collar, and then he pulled back, panting. His hand came up to wipe the moisture from your lips with his thumb, which he then inserted into his mouth and kept eye contact with you as he suckled his digit.

You imagined those lips doing the same to various points on your body and you nearly swooned, especially when he pulled his thumb out with a plop and then released you. 

Henry stepped back, baring his teeth in a dangerous smile. 

Your mind was scrambled, but you knew one thing for certain: Henry was attracted to you. Just as much as you were attracted to him.

Who would have thunk?

Henry adjusted his cuffs, highlighting those distracting veins on the back of his hands. He nodded at the flowers, then at you, a dangerous smile on his lips.

"Hope he’s ready to compete," he murmured, leaving you stunned.

“Get your coat, we’re going out to dinner tonight.”

And then he walked back into his office, leaving you staring after him, heart slamming against your ribs, lips feeling swollen and bruised from the kiss.

You had no idea what those flowers just unleashed in him. 

But you were about to find out.

——-

“Good thing you haven’t beaten up my box lately. Wouldn’t want Dr. Hutchins to ask what we’ve been up to.”

You winked, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before turning to leave. His raised eyebrow and smirk followed you out the door. Henry watched you go, eyes trailing your body as you hurried to the elevator. 

You had both been drowning in work lately, too exhausted for anything beyond curling up together at the end of the day. Yet, as he sat there, a flicker of anxiety stirred inside him. You were younger. Your relationship was still new. 

Would you want a family? And if so, would you want one with him, a man old enough to be their grandfather? He shook off the thought and refocused on the task at hand.

A couple of hours later, your text lit up his screen.

Had to have my IUD out.  Two more weeks until the other method kicks in.  So we’ll have to wait a little longer or use condoms. And be very careful.

Henry swallowed hard. He hadn’t even been thinking about sex, until you told him not to. Now it was all he could think about. He’d been fucking you raw for a while now and he didn’t think he could go back and the thought of going back to barriers made something inside him rebel.

Still, he was a gentleman. He could control himself. He responded to you, quickly.

Whatever is needed. We can watch a movie tonight. You pick.

Goody! 50 First Dates.

Splendid.

A mindless rom-com would be the perfect distraction. Or so he thought.

Later, as you curled up beside him on the couch, his self-control began to unravel. You nestled against his arm, warm and soft, pressing absentmindedly into him. Your scent filled his lungs, intoxicating and familiar.

Henry tried to focus on the screen, but his mind drifted to the last time he’d had you. How your perfect pussy gushed just right for him. You were so hot and tight. He tried to stop, but he kept thinking of the smell of you, and how perfectly you fit around him, how your body trembled in his hands.

Before he knew it, his hand was on your thigh, squeezing.

You turned, eyes meeting his, and smiled. A slow, knowing smile. Leaning in, you kissed his cheek, but he was already turning toward you, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss.

Within moments, you were tangled together, heat surging between you as you pressed into each other. His hands roamed under your shirt, his cock aching to be inside you.

“Bloody hell. We are grown adults,” he muttered, breaking the kiss.

You were breathless, hair tousled, eyes dark with want. When your gaze dropped to the outline of his erection, he groaned.

A wicked glint flashed in your eyes as you ran a slow hand down your body, teasing.

Henry exhaled sharply, then stood, tugging his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. Your breath hitched as his thick, muscular torso came into view.

Then, without a word, he shoved down his jeans and underwear, his cock standing thick and heavy. Your mouth parted slightly, eyes locked on him.

He smirked and stepped back, sitting across the room with his thick thighs spread, fisting himself lazily.

“I want you to stay right there and touch yourself,” he said, voice low and commanding.

 “While I sit here and watch you.”

A pulse of heat shot through you.

Oh, fuck.

Your response was a quiet, breathless, “Yes.”

You stripped off your tank top and leggings, your fingers teasing over your flushed skin. One hand toyed with a hardened nipple while the other slipped between your thighs, circling and teasing your cunt.

“Let’s just say I was going to put my cock inside you right now,” Henry gave himself a slow stroke and a bubble of precum rolled down his fingers as he showed you what he was working with. 

You ached for the stretch only he could give you.

“What would you want you to do, love?”

That question short circuited your brain.

“I’d want you to fuck me from behind over the back of this couch.” 

Henry didn’t reply, but his mouth opened and he stroked faster. 

You leaned against the armrest of the couch and spread you knees wider, focusing on finger fucking yourself. You slid in a second digit to try and replicate the extra fullness of his cock,  but it was nowhere close. Henry chuckled.

“You know you need another.”

You stuffed a third finger inside yourself and he rewarded you.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Your toes curled against the cushions and his eyes and his voice and the vision of him were edging you toward your orgasm. You closed your eyes and prepared to fall, when suddenly, strong hands gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly, bending you over the back of the couch.

At this point, nothing else mattered.

You needed him inside you.

Henry pressed his cock against your slick entrance, his voice a deep, guttural growl.

“I’ve been saving my cum for days now,” he murmured, nudging against you. 

“Waiting for a chance to fill you so full it’ll drip down your thighs.”

The image alone sent you spiraling.

“God, Henry. Please,” you whimpered, pressing back against him.

He chuckled darkly.

“Hmmm, Little One. I don’t know if you want it bad enough yet.”

 He teased you as his cockhead popped inside you. 

“And what if you get pregnant?”

Your body jolted at the thought.

You shifted, trying to take more of him, but his grip was firm, controlling. Each tiny movement sent sparks of pleasure rippling through you. You were reduced to begging, which he loved.

“Please, Henry,” you gasped. “I’ll do anything… just fuck me.”

A deep, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest.

“You’re desperate for this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you choked out.

“Say it, Little One.”

Your hips rocked involuntarily, seeking relief, and he grinned.

“I’m a cock-hungry slut,” you whispered, the words sending a fresh wave of heat through you.

Henry’s laughter was low and full of dark promise.

“Not yet, my little fucktoy.”

You nearly sobbed in frustration.

“You really need my cum inside you right now, don’t you?” he taunted, voice velvet and steel.

Your body trembled. You were losing control.

“Fuck… yes… please.”

“You’re doing so well,” he crooned.

“Beg for it again.”

You couldn’t even remember what you said. Your mind was a haze of pleasure and need.

“I don’t—”

He cut you off with a sharp, punishing thrust.

You gasped.

“Changed my mind. I’m not waiting anymore.”

The world blurred as pleasure engulfed you. His hands on were your hips, his body owning yours completely. You barely registered his next words.

“Oh, and Little One?”

You whimpered in response.

“Don’t even think about coming until I say you can.”

The command sent a violent shudder through you.

Time seemed to slow as his pace grew relentless, his body slamming into yours with precision, purpose. You were nothing but sensation, drowning in him, gripping the cushions as your body tightened, coiled, ready to snap…

And then, he stilled.

“You want to know what’s going to happen?”

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

Henry withdrew fully. Then slammed back into you.

“Oooooh, fuck!”

“I’m going to fuck a baby into you.”

His voice was pure sin.

“You’re going to be a beautiful, pregnant mess when I’m done with you.”

Your body clenched at his words, teetering on the edge.

“Yes,” you breathed.

He growled, yanking your hair back, his control slipping.

“My beautiful little slut,” he panted, thrusting deep. “Do you want my cum?”

The spikes of pleasure were too much, your body trembling on the precipice. 

You knew you were going to come at any moment, but still, you managed to get it out. 

“Yes, please… can I come?”

Henry’s grip tightened, his thrusts never faltering. 

“I have one question first.”

Your fingers dug into the cushions.

“Please just let me comeeee!”

Henry waited, delivering two more deep, devastating strokes for your sass. You were on the verge of losing your mind.

“Are you,” he growled, punctuating each word with a thrust, “my fucktoy… that I can use… however I want? To fuck and to fill with my cum…to breed how I see fit?”

Your breath hitched as you realized that Henry really could do whatever he wanted to you right now, and you’d beg for more. You opened your mouth to say yes, but hesitation cost you.

He yanked your hair back harder and smacked your ass hard. You yelped in pleasure/pain.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, Henry! I’m yours!” 

The words spilled from your lips, raw and desperate, and the second they left your mouth, your body shattered. Blinding pleasure overtook you, ripping through your limbs and curling your toes. Your moans melted into breathless whimpers as you bucked and shuddered through your release.

Henry didn’t stop. He drove into you, prolonging your ecstasy, dragging out every aftershock until your body was nothing but sensation. Then, with one final thrust, he stilled.

A deep, guttural roar tore from his throat as he came, his body jerking against yours. The thick, pulsing heat of his release flooded you, sending another tremor through your overstimulated body.

This was what you’d been waiting for. What you both craved. The thought of him emptying himself inside you, filling you, claiming you, almost pushed you over the edge again.

You moaned softly as he grinded against you, savoring every last drop. He stayed buried deep, thrusting lazily, fucking his cum further inside while your body milked him dry.

For a long moment, he stayed there, his weight pressing you into the cushions. You shivered beneath him, but there was something grounding about his warmth, the way he kept you close.

Finally, he pulled out, and just as he promised, your combined fluids began to trickle down your thighs. Henry watched, utterly transfixed, then bent down and effortlessly lifted you into his arms.

“Now,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple, “let’s get you cleaned up. So we can do that again.”

You twined an arm around his neck as he carried you into the bathroom, setting you down and ensuring that you were steady before letting you go.

As he turned on the shower, his gaze flicked to the sink, where the box for your diaphragm sat.

A slow, wicked smirk tugged at his lips.

“Always prepared, aren’t you, Little One?”

You flashed him a playful smile. 

“Well… I was going to put that in later. But you caught me by surprise.”

His eyebrow arches as he eases you under the steaming water. He wasn’t sure if you were telling the truth or indulging in the kink.

“That’s good,” he purred, hands sliding over your slick skin. 

“Then we can breed you again, my love.”

You shuddered with anticipation as you stood on your tiptoes to press your naked, wet body against his.

----

“Cancel them.” 

He grabbed his phone from his desk and stalked past you to the elevator. You followed, and could literally see the steam coming off his ears.

Henry was close to coming unglued. He did not plan on this today.

Did he have a claim on you?

Yes.

Were you aware of that claim?

No, but that had nothing to do with it.

“Can’t. It’s a date,” came your saucy reply.

That stopped him in his tracks. Henry turned slowly to face you as you looked up at the elevator indicator.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“What the hell do you mean?” 

You raised your eyebrow at him and then walked into the elevator, forcing him to follow you. You pressed the button and looked up again, ignoring Henry’s stare.

You had to admit you were enjoying this. 

“You expect me to not have a date tonight, Mr. Cavill?”

Henry leaned against the elevator wall and crossed his arms. He considered what day it was.

“You didn’t last year.”

You looked at him, fire in your eyes. 

“I was newly hired and when you said we were working late that day, I didn’t want to rock the boat that early.”

That was true, but you were also already smitten and wanted to spend the evening with Henry.

“But I’m done letting work take over my life. I need more, Mr. Cavill. I need a life.”

Henry huffed and then stood up straight. He was exasperated because couldn’t you see that you were his life? He thought about it.

Maybe you couldn’t see it because he never said it.

He moved closer to you, determined to make you understand. In the confined space, the proximity caused the hair on the back of your neck to rise.

“What about what happened back there in your office, Little One?”

His sexy murmur and that accent almost made you weak, but you remained strong, looking at him as if you didn’t know what he was talking about. But how could you forget?

The kiss.

You cleared your throat.

“I’m not sure what that was about.” 

Your eyes looked at the elevator wall.  

“You kissed me and then said something about a competition. Because I got flowers.”

“Because someone else sent you flowers. Out of the blue! In all the time we’ve worked together, not once have you mentioned a boyfriend or dating. So, who the hell is he?”

You gave him a side eye.

“I don’t need to tell you who I’m seeing, Mr. Cavill,” you said with a smirk.

“If you want him to have full use of his limbs, you will.” 

Your eyes widened, and you took a step back. 

“Cancel your plans. This guy, whoever he is,” he snarled, “can wait another day.” 

Henry just wanted a chance with you. All that mattered was that you spend tonight with him.

“Did you just threaten my date?”

For some insane reason, that made you hot. Your nipples were tight and aching, and your pussy was slick and pounding.

You shook your head and looked back up at the elevator indicator, willing it to go faster. This lie of yours was getting more involved, and the pit of your desire was getting harder to crawl out of.

“Are you still planning to go out with him tonight?” 

You just stared at him. 

“This is not a competition, Mr. Cavill. This is my heart.”

His expression flickered, just for a second, then his jaw tightened, and he leaned in again, voice dangerously low. 

“You think this is just about winning?”

You didn’t answer. Not right away. Because you weren’t sure you wanted to know what happened if the answer was no.

The air between you thickened, his question hanging between you. His eyes were holding you captive and you felt like you should look away, should deflect, but you couldn’t. Before you could think better of it, your breath stuttered.

Henry's eyes dropped to your lips again, the tension taut. He grabbed your hand, his fingers brushing against your wrist, just enough to send a shiver through you.

His control was slipping more and more, and as much as he didn’t like that feeling, he realized that maybe he loved you more.

He took in that serious pout, those beautiful eyes, and the luscious hips he wanted to hold on to as he made love to you. A slow smirk tugged at Henry’s lips as his eyes slipped over your ass pencil skirt and he licked his lips. He wasn’t trying to cover his salacious looks at you.

You needed to know that Henry’s baser instincts were about to take over. 

He needed to show you, physically, how urgent this feeling was. 

His mind was filled with visions of the two of you fucking like rabbits. In the office. In his penthouse. On a beach. Wherever he could find a flat surface, that’s where he would take you. 

“Mr. Cavill, you can’t tell me when I can go out on dates and when I can’t. You’re my boss. Not my man.” 

Your eyes shot fire at him. And damn you, the smirk that came over his face when you did that threatened to make you burst into flames. 

“I’m going on my date tonight. I will enjoy the company of a man who’s interested in getting to know me. And then, maybe…” 

You paused, allowing the silence to fill in the worst of Henry’s fears. Another man having what was his, at least in his mind. It was tearing him apart inside. 

The elevator finally reached the ground floor and before the doors opened fully, Henry stopped them and then pressed the button for the penthouse.

You were so frustrated that you stamped your foot like a child when you looked up at him in fury as the elevator rose again.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Henry smiled down at you and advanced even further. Your stomach flipped and it was tethered to your pussy.

“So you’re planning to fuck tonight?”

You gasped as you backed up to the wall. Henry followed and put his hands on the railing on either side of you, caging you in. 

“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Little One. Whoever he is, he’s not good enough for you. Never would have been able to handle you. Not in a million years.”

You shivered as he stared down at you.

“You don’t even know who he is?”

“Doesn’t matter. I know what I know.”

Your teeth captured your bottom lip and Henry looked at it lovingly, reaching up to pull it free, and then caress your chin.

Your mind couldn’t help thinking that Henry could handle you. You took a deep breath trying to clear your head, but his scent was surrounding you. And his warmth was beckoning. 

Then, your cunt did the talking for you.

“And who do you think could handle me?”

Henry smiled then, eyes flicking down to your lips as his hand palmed the back of your head, his fingers threading to your scalp. His thumb was still on your lips.

“I think you already know the answer to that, Little One,” Henry whispered and you whimpered, earning a small moan from him. 

“So what’s changed? Why now?” 

“Seeing those flowers made me realize that I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else. You belong with me, Little One. Only me.” 

His possessive words sent a shiver through you. Part of you wanted to argue, to assert your independence. But another part thrilled at his desire for you.

You looked up at him as the tip of your tongue ventured out and lightly brushed the skin of his digit. You watched in real time as his eyes dilated, the beautiful multicolored blue changing to black. 

“Fuck…”

Henry pressed his thumb further into your mouth and you sucked heartily, keeping eye contact as your tongue swirled around him and caused his half hard dick to stand at full mast. He pulled his thumb out with a plop and then rubbed the wetness around your lips. 

Then he leaned down and licked it off of them before slipping his tongue into your open mouth, his hand coming up to fully palm your head now.

“You say you need a life. Now tell me you want to go out with some other man, or do you need me to show you what kind of life you could have?”

That dangerous eyebrow cocked as the elevator doors chimed open.

“Show me.”

Henry bared his teeth in a sinister smile and you knew that you were about to be ruined. He took your hand and led you down the hallway to his door, and you stood there as he input the code for entry.

Once inside, your coats were thrown off and your hands were all over each other as you tried to get skin to skin. You pulled his shirt out of his pants, he was bunching up your skirt to get to you, until you both stopped and laughed at the comedy.

“Let’s slow down a bit so we can get to the good parts,” you whispered, between quick wet kisses and gropes of Henry’s hands on your body.

His cock throbbed in his pants, demanding attention as it strained against the fabric. 

“I don’t know if I can slow down my Little One. All that matters is sinking inside you and imprinting my name on your perfect pussy, which no other man will ever touch again. You belong to me; always have, always will.”

“Fuck, Henry!”

Henry took you in, flushed with desire, your pupils blown wide.

“Yes, yes. I am going to fuck you my angel.”

As Henry watched you get undressed, he rid himself of the rest of his clothes and then grabbed you, bridal style and carried you into his bedroom, setting you down in your bra and panties on the extra large king bed there. 

You leaned back on your hands and watched with wide eyes as Henry took down his boxers, your mouth hanging open at the very large cock that he was hiding inside them. You bit your bottom lip as Henry smiled at your reaction and took himself in hand, stroking slowly as his large fingers encircled his considerable girth. 

His glove size made sense now.

“I’m afraid I may not last long. Every night I stroke myself and imagine what it would feel like to be inside your tight warmth; whether you’d be a screamer or try to keep quiet, making pretty little noises in your throat; whether your nails would rake down my back. So many questions, Little One…”

You arched your back and ran your hand down your body. You could see precum bubble over Henry’s fingers when you put your hand in your panties and heard him moan. You stood and then kneeled in front of him, earning a straight out groan from your employer.

Your own private fantasies involved the show that was happening in front of you right now.

“We’ll figure out the answers together, but maybe I can help you out. Y’know, teamwork and all of that.”

You reached out and saw Henry’s shudder as you touched his warm, satiny smooth cock, trying, but failing to close your fingers around him. You moaned in your throat as you tried to jack him and his hand quickly came up to guide yours as he bent down to stick his tongue in your mouth in a filthy kiss.

“Been waiting so long for this moment. Little One. Open wide.”

He grins down at you.

“And tap my thigh if it’s too much.”

You sat back on your shins and opened up as Henry lubricated your lips with his fluid, then slapped your outstretched tongue with his heavy member. Your hand came up and weighed his balls, your spit dripping down them to the floor as he shoved his dick into your mouth.

You took as much as you could in your mouth and made eye contact for more. Henry grimaced as he slid cock past your tonsils into your throat. You carefully breathed through your nose and looked up at him.

“Those eyes, Little One. That mouth, that neck. Doing so well for me.”

You smiled around your full mouth and began to move, bobbing on him, making sure to pay special attention to his engorged head. Your combined fluids were everywhere as you jacked what you couldn’t fit in your hand and Henry’s head was alternating between hanging back between his shoulders and looking down at you, blue eyes gleaming.

“You gonna take my cum, Baby? Be a good girl for me?”

You reached forward and grabbed Henry’s ass, bobbing faster and humming around his girth.

“Holyyyyyyy fuck… Little One!”

Henry shot off and you gulped the only cum you ever wanted to swallow down your throat.

You collapsed back on the rug as Henry leaned down and easily picked you up to place you on the bed. He jerked the rest of his cum out of his still half-hard dick onto the juncture of your thighs, eyes full of delight.

“Thank you for that, love. Now I can do this properly. I’m about to make my intentions very, very clear. I thought our first time was going to be beautiful. And it is, but it will also be quite pornographic.”

Henry fingers were inside your panties, playing in the cum that soaked through to your clit, rubbing nasty circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves. You loved giving him that blow job. He looked up and down your body as he pulled your panties to the side.

“Henry…”

“So fucking beautiful. This pussy is so fucking perfect. Need to taste all of you, Little One.”

And with that, Henry leaned down and licked your nipple through the lace of your bra. When he found the ultra stiff peak there, he took it between his teeth as you writhed and moaned beneath him, then he turned to sucking you, hard, not waiting until his other hand deftly unhooked your foundation.

Your bra practically flew off as he handled your breasts roughly, spitting on them and then slurping up the saliva as he held eye contact and nibbled, licked, and sucked you to nirvana.

The moment he so much as touched your clit again, you flew apart in his hands, screaming his name.

“Yes. Yessss. Little One. Let me hear you scream my name. None other.”

You were busy trying to breathe, your back flat on the bed when you felt Henry’s hands tear your panties off, then clamp around your thighs and hold you open.

You felt his hot spit land on your clit and then his warm breath on you for a split second. You were overstimulated and so you tried to stop him from–

“He-Henry, Nouuuunnnnggggghhhhhh! Fuck that feels….”

You looked down to see Henry’s smile and his wide tongue doing unspeakable things to the seam of you. He licked a wide, wet, wonderful path from your ass to your clit and then latched on to destroy your soul.

“Good Godddddd!”

You arched up into his face and began to ride it, pulling on his curls as if they were some kind of magical reins. 

His mouth ravaged you and when he inserted two thick fingers inside you, bent and scissored them, you squirted into his waiting open mouth.

You must have blacked out for a second, because the next thing you knew, Henry was standing and wiping his face with the back of his hand. His cock seemed even larger than when you sucked it. Your cunt wanted it, but your brain was frightened.

“That sweet pussy is all mine, Little One. No one else gets near it.”

You nodded, breathless, and  agreeing to anything.

“Yes, Mr. Cavill, Sir.”

Henry grinned and eyed you.

“Such a good girl. Can’t wait to be inside you.”

He was stroking himself again, looking at your pussy as if it were gold.

“Promise to make you feel good.” 

He looked in your eyes.

“You’ve already ruined me for any other woman.”

You blinked up at him as he descended between your legs.

He swiped his long, hard, thick length between your wet, swollen folds, making you whimper with ecstasy. You wrapped your legs around him, crossing your ankles at his back. 

Henry pushed the head of his cock to your entrance and it slid in like a hot knife through butter. You moaned loudly, clenching him tightly with your inner muscles. He pushed slowly and steadily, letting you get adjusted.

You groaned and your eyes opened to see the corner of his mouth raised in a soft smile. 

“I’ve got you, Little One.” 

You nodded and took a deep breath because he was fucking huge. Henry  slid a hand between you and began rolling your clit in mind-blowing circles.

Your body relaxed and accepted him.

“That’s it, love. Give it to me,” he rasped out before plunging his tongue into your mouth. 

There was an orchestra of sensations as his tongue, his hand, his penis, worked together to fuck you and it felt like beautiful music. Your orgasm blossomed and exploded throughout your body. 

You came in long, crashing waves that shook your body from head to toe, and yet he didn’t stop. He fucked you deeply, reaching spots you didn’t know existed, making you beg and praise and yes, rake your nails down his back. 

At the end, you blacked out again, everything fading away but Henry.

—

Later, after turns in the shower and the bath, you finally had your romantic dinner in bathrobes in Henry’s breakfast nook, cartons of take out shared between you.

You look at Henry’s face, filled with a happiness you had never witnessed before and felt guilty.

“Henry. I’ve got to tell you something.”

Henry smiled at you angelically and raised an adorable eyebrow.

“You want to tell me that you never had another date. That you sent those flowers to yourself.”

Your mouth dropped open in amazement.

“How…?” 

Henry grinned.

“I knew it the moment I read the card. The look on your face was classic.”

Then you got mad.

“So you let me…you ass!”

You hopped up, ready to retrieve your clothes and leave. But Henry caught you by the hand and pulled you into his lap.

“You were willing to push me to see what I would do. So I let you. It helped you to finally admit that you wanted me.”

Henry murmured down at you and you quieted, those eyes mesmerizing you.

“And it helped me too. I was able to finally show my feelings for you, Little One. Oh, how I love you.”

You smiled and reached up for his curls and pulled him down for a kiss.

“I love you too, Henry, but you realize there’s a problem, right?”

His smile faltered slightly. 

“What problem?”

You sighed.

“Workplace relationships. HR nightmares. You’re my boss, Henry.”

“So?”

You arched your own brow at him, incredulous. 

“So? You’re the one who follows the rules to the letter.”

He leaned back to get a better look at your face.

“Are you saying you want to quit?”

You gulped, “Well…”

It was Henry’s turn to sigh. 

“If I fired you, there would be a severance package. But I don’t fire people without cause.”

Your lips twitched. 

“And what if I gave you cause?”

The smile returns, slow and dangerous. 

“Then I suppose you’d have to find a very compelling reason for me to let you go.”

You slid down to the floor, robe slipping off of your shoulders.

A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. 

"I was prepared to be impressed," he murmured, accent lilting as he stepped inside your door as if he owned the place. 

That BDE was in full effect. And rightfully earned, you knew from delicious first hand experience.

"But this?”

Henry’s hand grazed your bare arm, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.

“This is dangerous, Little One."

You tilted your head and raised your eyebrow, letting the compliment curl around you like Henry’s scent. A chord struck in your brain and you wanted to be naughty.

"And here I thought you appreciated a little danger."

Henry’s eyes traced the curve of your neck down to the cleavage that your gown elegantly displayed. He stepped forward into your space and you craned your neck so that your lips were available.

But instead of kissing you, he looked down, reached out, and fingered the high slit of your dress, his touch barely there, but potent. 

"Oh, I do. But we have an opera benefit to attend. And if I linger here much longer…" 

His voice trailed off, the promise thick in the air, as he leaned down and pressed his lips to your pulse point, earning a quiet whimper from you. Your nipples pebbled and you wanted to drop to your knees as Henry pulled back.

With a smirk, he offered his arm, leading you to the elevator. The moment the door shut you were facing off in the enclosed space and Henry’s eyes were all over you, taking you all in, but pausing several times at the tight nipples that your gown showcased. 

You were a vision, a goddess, and he felt extremely fortunate to be in your company tonight.

His cock pounded in his pants and he licked his lips, then cleared his throat. He lifted his eyes to yours and ran his fingers around the collar of his shirt, as it suddenly became too tight.

“I want very much to ask if you are wet, but I can’t know the answer to that right now.”

“Oh.”

You lifted your hand to your neck and trailed it down your dress, stopping to circle your own nipple through the silken fabric, then continued down to the slit in your dress. You reached inside and fingered your pussy, collecting the wetness there. 

Henry’s mouth dropped slightly open to gain air and his eyes dilated as you touched yourself, looking boldly in his eyes.

As you reached the bottom floor, you moved toward him and stuck your fingers in his mouth, and he wrapped those strong lips around them and sucked them hard.

Your pussy clenched down and you realized that you played yourself while you were trying to get him caught up.

Henry pulled off with a plop, and then extended that wide wet muscle of a tongue and licked your fingers again.

You wanted to cry.

“Hmmmmmm. Delicious. You’re not wearing any panties, are you, Little One?”

Henry’s eyes were lust blown, and you had to concentrate to breathe. Luckily, the elevator doors opened to give you more air.

“No, Sir.”

Henry held you in his glare of steel as his jaw clenched, then came close and placed his hand on your bare back, made possible by the low cut of your dress. He extended his hand before you.

“After you.”

Henry was the epitome of restraint.

You walked out of the lift through the lobby to the waiting car. After climbing in behind you, enclosing you in the intimate darkness of the leather-clad interior, Henry turned to you, his gaze burning.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing to me tonight? This dress, your skin, your taste? Your incredible verve. God, you make me feel so alive." 

His voice was coffee and fire, rich and dangerously low.

“I swear that I’m going to make you feel a fraction of what you do to me. And it will practically burn the place down tonight.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his fingers tracing the curve of your thigh. His hand slid beneath the slit, fingers teasing, exploring, daring you to keep still. His long thick finger caressed the keyhole and the slit of you, teasing, but never quite reaching where you needed him to be. 

The city lights flickered past, but all you could focus on was Henry, the way his lips hovered near your ear, his whispered promises dark and intoxicating.

“You’re so soft, wet and hot, and you’re all that I want forever, Little One.”

You reached over and felt the steel rod in his pants and he let you, but he kept you at arms length for the entirety of the drive, your soft whimpers and moans the most beautiful prelude to the evening’s events.

By the time you arrived, your pulse was unsteady, and your skin was flushed with barely restrained desire.

Henry, cool as ever, adjusted his cufflinks as if he hadn’t just unraveled you in the backseat of his car. He stepped out first, then offered his hand, his grip firm as he helped you onto the red carpet.

He led you into the grand entrance of the opera house, his dark eyes sweeping over you once more, this time with a knowing smirk. The chandeliers cast golden light over the room, illuminating the way his gaze lingered at the plunging neckline and the scandalous slit that teased just enough to make him scowl a little with disapproval now that you were around other people.

He didn't want anyone else to see you like this, beautiful with need. But then he smiled at you, wicked, dangerous.

“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, stepping forward, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your arm as he leaned in.

His voice was a low hum, like a perfectly played overture. 

“We should have skipped the opera altogether.”

A slow smile tugged at your lips as you met his gaze. 

“And miss the performance?”

His fingers trailed lower, brushing the delicate silk of your dress. 

“The only performance I’m interested in,” he whispered, “is the one where I have you gasping my name.”

Your pulse fluttered as he offered his arm, ever the composed gentleman despite the wicked promise he just made. He led you through the entrance, his touch possessive yet controlled, a stark contrast to the hunger you can already sense beneath the surface.

You passed acquaintances, and Henry introduced you as a consultant, a new title gained when you were let go of the company and formed your own. Your office stayed the same, right beside his, but your responsibilities and pay increased greatly.

Henry was ever the professional, and charming as he spoke, but the glances he gave you were unsettling. 

You knew something was coming.

—----

When you were finally ensconced in Henry’s private box, the velvet of the balcony seat was plush beneath you, though it was nothing compared to the warm, firm pressure of Henry’s hand on your thigh. 

The lights dimmed, and the orchestra swelled, a cascade of violins trembling with anticipation. Your breath caught as Henry’s fingers traced lazy circles just above the slit of your dress, his touch featherlight.

“This aria is breathtaking,” he stated lowly, lips dangerously close to your ear as he pulled your legs apart and settled his hand between them.

“But I can’t seem to keep my attention on the stage.”

You barely registered the soprano’s soaring notes as Henry’s hand slid higher, fingers grazing the silk at the juncture of your thigh and your hip. A low, slow burn rolled through you that had nothing to do with the grand romance playing out below.

“Henry,” you whispered, half warning, half invitation.

His lips quirked in amusement, but his fingers didn't stop until he reached the very apex of you. And all the while, he feigned that he was watching the stage.

You certain sure that what he was focused on was driving you mad.

“Shh,” his breath teased the sensitive skin of your neck as his fingers did the same to your wet and aching slit.

He found out just how wet you were as his fingers glided through your slippery pussy lips. You were on the verge of begging as he rocked his knuckle back and forth, never quite penetrating you, but making you dream dreams of him deep inside you.

“I need it.”  You rushed, gaze locked on the stage as Henry looked lovingly at you.

“Need what, Little One?” Henry asked. 

“Need you to finger me.” 

Henry tsked and he pulled his hand away, turning away from you a bit. You wanted to cry and scream and beg for him to touch you again. He watched your agony for a moment then patted your thigh and rested his hand there.

You heated up all over again.

“Good girl. We wouldn’t want to cause a crescendo before the second act.”

A shiver coursed through you as the audience below sat in rapt attention, oblivious to the far more sinful performance unfolding in the shadows of Henry’s box. The forbidden thrill of it had your pulse racing, your breathing staccato.

Henry teased you for the better part of an hour, driving you as mad as Anne Boleyn. He drove you to the peak of your fulfillment, and then snatched you away from the crown jewels time and time again.

As the opera neared a crescendo, so too did Henry’s touch, his fingers stroking your wet and aching slit, and slipping your over-sensitive clit between his knuckles. He was playing you like a piano, and it made you want to sing.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss just below your ear. 

“Tell me… is it the music? Or me?”

You turned your head, lips inches from his, eyes dark with need. 

“Both,” you admit. 

“Please put your fingers inside me,” you begged.

Henry smiled, dark and knowing. 

“Hmmmm. Let’s see if we can make this night end on a high note.”

The soprano held the final note that filled the grand hall. But nothing could compare to the symphony Henry played with your body. His digits slipped further, exploring you with slow, deliberate intent. 

His touch turned demanding, each movement calculated as he coaxed you higher, unraveling you right there in the box. Henry's long thick fingers crooked and pressed deeper inside you, reaching that bundle of nerves, and made your body hug around his hand.

Tiny stings of pleasure dotted across your skin with your goosebumps and Henry sighed. 

“Fuck you’re tight.”

His words made you topple over the edge into bliss, the risk of being discovered heightening every sensation. You barely suppressed a cry, fingers digging into Henry’s arm as your pleasure crested, wave after wave crashing through you.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Exquisite.”

Your breath was ragged, heart hammering against your ribs as you fought to stay composed. Henry withdrew his hand, smoothing the fabric of your dress with infuriating nonchalance. 

“We should stay for the second act,” he mused, eyes flicking to the stage as if nothing had happened. You stared at him mutely, telegraphing your need.

“Or… perhaps you’d like a more private encore? I mean, it wouldn’t do to leave a puddle of my cum on the opera house floor.”

You whimpered at the image, but you stood, legs still unsteady, and barely able to suppress the smirk tugging at your lips. 

Henry led you down the stairs and out of the opera house, and you didn’t know why you were surprised to see the car exactly where it was a little over an hour earlier. You brushed your body against his as he ushered you into the back seat.

As soon as the car started rolling, Henry’s cock was out and in his hand. Your attention was torn between his magnetic stare and the glorious organ in his fist. 

“Climb on,” he gritted, and you didn’t hesitate to move.

You hiked your skirt up and positioned your legs on either side of his thick muscular thighs, trembling as he swiped the thick, swollen mushroom head of his cock through your sopping wet cunt.

“You drive me absolutely….mad! Fucckkkk!”

Henry gasped as you slid down his dick. He leaned back as you rose and fell on his thick shaft, coating his cock with your sticky, sweet fluid. His huge hand wrapped around your throat and held you in place while he drove up inside you, thumb on his other hand collecting your wetness as he tortured your clit again.

He pulled you down for a filthy kiss, the first of the night, and then smacked your ass. When he was done ravaging your mouth, he purred in your ear.

“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had. The hottest, the tightest, the wettest.”

You threw your head back and Henry took the opportunity to mark you up. After breaking capillaries on your neck, he growled at you.

“Cum one more time for me. My balls are so fucking full of cum from watching you in that box tonight. Gonna fill you so full of my seed Little One.”

One hand grabbed your slicked back bun and pulled your head back, making you arch for him, a feast for his eyes. His fingers travelled down your collarbone to your breasts and free them from the least restrictive neckline ever. 

“But what if you get pregnant?”

He looked at you when you clamped down around him, eyes burning through your soul.

“Won’t it be amazing when you’re round and full of my child? I’ll be able to pull your sweet sustenance for my self. These beautiful breasts will be even more sensitive to my touch. Your curves even more bounteous and enticing.”

As his fingers and lips, tongue, and teeth teased your hard nipples, you picked up speed, your ass slapping against his thighs. You were breathless at his words, the epiphany of his sentiments such a turn on.

“Oh shit,” you moaned, cumming and holding on to him for dear life.

You wound your arms around Henry’s impressive shoulders as he pistoned into you until you released all over him and the fine leather seat, screamed his name, and shivered as his hot seed shot inside you.

“With this kind of performance and work satisfaction, you deserve more money for your services.” 

“I hate you,” you chuckled.

Henry kissed your forehead as you fought sleep against his broad chest, his heartbeat lulling you into slumber, and him still half hard inside you. 

You’d figure out how to get out of the car when you got to his place you thought distantly.

For the short time you’d been intimate, you’d sensed that he was holding back something darker, more forceful and to think of it didn’t scare you.

It only served to get you so incredibly hot. Something inside you wanted to push his buttons.

Maybe it was that, and not the champagne, that impelled you to text him what you had earlier.

Bucky was on his couch, staring at the Manhattan skyline and waiting for your call. He answered on the first ring.

“Hello, Frumoasă. Did you have fun tonight?”

His question seemed innocuous enough. Bucky listened as you recounted the drama and escapades of the night with your girls. 

You asked him how his evening with Steve and Sam was and he replied shortly, “Fine. Until I got distracted.”

Then he got to the point.

“Now. Let’s talk about the text you sent me earlier. Run that back for me? What is it that you want to do while I do what to you now?”

The way he slid into confronting you was savage. You weren’t expecting it and now you didn’t want to say it out loud.

Had you crossed the line, you wondered?

Your silence made Bucky smile. He knew he had you flustered, having learned your tells already. You were about to be in the mood he wanted you in; he just needed to push a little further.

“Cat got that talented tongue, baby? Tell me what you said. Or are you only a whore over texts?”

The coldness in Bucky’s tone made you whimper. And wet.

“James…”

Bucky’s cock swelled. He was ten seconds from jumping into his car and showing up at your door. Instead of that, Bucky decided to be patient.

But clear.

“Tell me.”

“I said…I said that I wanted to suck your fingers while you fuck me raw.”

Bucky grunted to cover his moan. You being his shy little slut was so hot.

“Hmmmm. What made my sweet girl think such whore thoughts? Was it the picture that you requested and I sent?”

You shuddered as you ran your fingertips along your belly, playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your nipples were stiff peaks, poking through your thin sleep shirt, which was one of his white tees. 

The fine cotton fabric felt so good against your skin and his scent lingered on the surface. These sensations, along with the knowledge that the shirt, and you, belonged to Bucky sent your fingers further.

“Thank you for the picture, Daddy.”

Bucky clenched his jaw at the moniker. He couldn’t deny you a thing. Even when he was out to dinner with his boys, he would send you a bathroom selfie if you asked. He hadn’t expected the response, however.

You’d only been together for a couple of weeks, and he’d religiously used protection, even after you’d both gotten tested the week after you got together. Despite your clean bills of health, Bucky never pushed to not use protection. He didn’t try to change your mind, he was just happy to be in the room.

In fact, Bucky loved using condoms with you. 

The way you rolled it on him always made him about to bust. The sight of your small fingers on him when you both were past the point of desperation drove him insane with romantic thoughts.

Your tiny hands rolling the rubber on him made him feel like you were his queen and he your knight. And he would vanquish any foe for you. His holy grail was your precious pussy, and if you wanted to use condoms, he was your humble servant. 

But of course, he dreamed of fucking you raw. How could he not with the way your juicy pussy sucked his digits in when he fucked you with his fingers, and the warm wet feel of you when his tongue penetrated your core?

You’d discussed birth control and you had additional methods, but when he snuck a peek of the ring in his closet, he allowed himself to fantasize about making you pregnant.The images got him so hard and yet he restrained himself.

But now that you opened the door, he could let his fantasies run wild. And dare to hope.

“Tell me more, Frumoasă.”

“Well… your fingers in the picture got me hot. You look so fucking Daddy, your eyes, your hair, which I love a little longer by the way, the grey in your beard. Those lips. But those fingers holding that ratty ass phone…”

You giggled until Bucky spoke again.

“As long as I can talk to you and get those kinds of messages, I don’t need a new one. But do go on…”

You melted at his sentiment. How did you get a man that was so open with his feelings?

“Those fingers, mmmm, they are magic. Make me wanna be a slut for for them, for you, James.”

You heard Bucky moving on his end of the line. You guessed at what he was doing.

“What are you doing, Jamie? Are you touching your cock?”

You bit your finger as you listen to him moving.

“Do you know that I daydream about that beautiful dick of yours?”

A groan was all that you received in response.

“Ever have a goal, James? Sucking your cock is mine. It’s so big. Love to get on my knees and swallow you down. Makes me feel accomplished. Ya know?”

“Holy shit, Y/N…”

“I want to feel it without a condom. I- I just think it will feel so good. Don’t you?”

As he thought of what you would feel like as he sank into you, skin to skin, a shiver ran up his spine.

“You know that I give you anything you ask for. Your soft, wet pussy would feel so warm and so good wrapped around me, Y/N. Are you sure you want that?”

You felt an enormous sense of power, and you had a feeling that Bucky was letting you have your way. For now. You took full advantage.

“You know that vein that runs around your shaft  to the tip?”

Bucky was tracing that very vein with his fingers.

“You mean the one that you love to rub those sweet lips on? The one that your wicked tongue traces to my fat head for your sweet little mouth to suck?”

You gasped at Bucky’s lewd language. You were soaking your panties and you moved to take them off. This conversation was the shit.

“Is that what you want to get on your knees for? To try to make me your slave to your slutty mouth?”

“Yes, Daddy just thinking about it makes me wanna cum.”

Bucky’s ears perked up at your breathless voice. He knew that you were touching yourself.

“Oh yeah?”

“Ummmhmmm.”

“Cum for me now, Frumoasă.”

You moaned and rubbed furious circles around your clit. Your arousal was evident in the sloppy sounds emanating from between your legs

“Is that my wet pussy I hear, Baby? How did that happen? Are you that much of a slut?” 

“Th-thinking about you, Daddy. Always a slut for you,” you keened in response.

“What exactly are you thinking about me? Fă ce spun eu frumos.”

You caught Bucky’s tone, and also the hitch in his voice. He was as close as you were.

“Yes, Daddy. ‘M thinking about your fingers inside me. Your cock. How big it is. The way you handle me. The way you talk to me. How you make me feel nasty and angelic all at the same damn time.” 

“Good girl. Now. Make sure that you fuck your fingers into that sweet cunt.”

You moaned as you obeyed. 

 “Oh. Fuck!” 

“There’s my good little whore. I should slap your fucking face for being so dirty. ” 

You gasped, then thrilled.

“Ooooohhhh, Daddy!” 

You were breathless and Bucky’s heart was beating out of his chest. You liked degradation. Really liked it. He took note.

“‘M so wet for you, Jamie.”

“I’m going to fuck you senseless, and you won’t be able to run from my cock when I fuck all of your fucking holes raw. Gonna leave my cum dripping out of everywhere.” 

You gasped, fingers flying over your clit. 

“Daddy…”

“But what if you get pregnant?”

You cried out. 

“Godamn it, Frumoasă. That belly swollen because I fucked my cum into you. Full of my… fuck… full of my baby. Those tits gushing milk every time I fuck you…”

“Oh yes. Make me a Mommy!”

“You’ll be mine, Frumoasă. In every single way imaginable.” 

“Oh oh oooooooooh!”

Your pussy spasmed under your fingers as his words pushed you over the edge.

“Don’t fucking stop rubbing that clit until I say so.”

He was so mean. You squeezed your thighs around your wrist, but did as he said.

“NNnnnghhh, Daddy… please!”

You continued stroking your oversensitive clit until you heard your name through the fog.

“Take your hand away..”

You gladly obeyed, gasping in order to take in oxygen. Your head was spinning and there was a giant smile on your face. 

“Holy shit. That was…”

Bucky’s low chuckle made you giggle. You heard movement over the phone.

“What’re you doing?”

“Made a mess all over my shirt. Taking it off.”

Your pussy pulsed again at what he said.

“You can’t say things like that when I’m still pounding, Daddy…” you whimpered.

“Poor Y/N, can’t handle the things she starts.”

You laughed and then stopped abruptly.

“You better be glad that you’re not here right now. I’d knock you the fuck out.”

“Big talk. Little girl.”

“Try me, Mr. Barnes.”

He couldn’t resist you and he couldn’t stay away. So he gave up trying.

“Brat. Be there in 30 minutes. Be ready to put your money where your mouth is. I’d like to see you live up to your threat, Baby.”

“Oh I’m ready, James. Leave the condoms at home.”

—-

45 minutes later, Bucky was sinking into your wet heat, eyes rolling back into his head. He was inside in one long stroke, burying himself in your wetness with a fair amount of stretch.  He was huge. But he’d made you so wet.

You quivered around him, sensitive to every twitch of his dick, and he wasn’t even moving yet.

“Who do you belong to, Frumoasă?” 

“You,” you moaned, not even hesitating. 

Bucky flexed his hips, opening you with controlled thrusts. Almost immediately, you were close. His fingers covered your throat, cradling your jaw, and a thumb pushed between your lips. You sucked it eagerly as he lifted one ankle next to your ear.

Blucky’s searing eyes met yours. His black pupils took over the blue as he took in your open mouth and fucked out expression. 

He pulled you up to kiss you on the lips.

“God, you feel like heaven. So unbelievably hot and silky. And soft.”

You clenched around him at his words of praise. You were spiraling at how hard and good and electric every ridge and vein on Bucky’s cock felt inside you. He filled you up so good and now you were addicted.

It wasn’t fair. 

You pouted at him, then put your hand on the bulge he was creating in your belly.

“Feels so fucking good, Daddy. So good. So big.”

His mouth turned up into a half grin as he looked down and put his hand over yours.

“Gonna fucking fill you up.”

He started moving, slowly, gently at first, building to a crescendo the more you moaned and cried. He was hypnotized by your bouncing breasts and your tiny stiff mountain peaks. When his mouth closed over your tight, puckered nipple, you let out a scream. 

Bucky grabbed your ass and smacked it, causing you to clamp down immediately. He gazed at you, eyebrow raised at your reaction. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, but he stopped, grabbed your hair and made you look at him. He paused, balls deep inside you.

You breathed out his name.

“...James…”

Your desperation almost made him come on the spot, and you could feel him pounding inside you. The truth was, he needed a little break so this could last.

The way your pussy was sucking his dick was insane.

“D’you feel how soaked you are?” he crooned, gripping your windpipe again.

“You need this so badly, don’t you? Go on, Frumoasă. It’s not so hard. I know you want to beg me for it. You like being a little whore..” 

You sucked in a breath, remaining silent as you stared at him insolently. His grip tightened. 

“Say it. You love being my cumslut.”

His voice was on the edge of control. It was everything.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Please, Daddy, Pleaseee…”

Bucky started moving again and you realized how sensitive to him you were. You clutched the sheets as he lengthened his strokes.

 “Fuuuuuck,” you gasped. 

Bucky leaned down to kiss you as your sweat combined with your slick and soaked both your bodies. His hips were moving relentlessly, his cock lighting up every nerve ending inside your tight channel. You squeezed him deliciously.

Bucky’s thumb was lighting up your clit and you were running headlong toward that cliff. He growled into your mouth as you tightened around him in a rush of pleasure.

As you neared your peak, your pussy pulsed erratically and you sparked around him like a firework. When you cried out, he spoke again, his hand around your throat with his thumb, (coated with the essence of you) inserted again into your mouth.

 “Look at you, baby,” he said, low and heated.

“You’re gonna cum so hard, and just the way I want you to. Around my naked cock. Gonna give you all this cum.”

He whispered it into your ear.

“Oh God, I’m cuming.” 

“You better hope none of my little soldiers make it past your birth control, little girl.”

You shrieked around his digit, shuddering as one wave after another crashed over your body. Bucky’s cock jerked inside you and he choked on air.

“Oh Goddddd!”

Bucky’s low, deep moan made you shudder around him again as he sped up, unable to contain the feeling that rushed down his spine when you came. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck FUCKKKKKKKK!”

Bucky pounded you out as you came with him. He collapsed on top of you, laughing, as he kissed and licked your sweat filled neck. Then, he rolled off of you and put his arm over his eyes, his chest heaving beside you. 

You curled up next to him and practically purred as you traced his tattooed sleeve.

“Told you I’d knock you out old man. Too bad you have to go to work tomorrow. How are you ever gonna do it when you’re so worn out? I feel like this pussy was worth it tho.”

Bucky moved his arm and opened one eye at you, a scowl on his face. Then he smiled. The brat in you turned him the fuck on. He turned toward you and traced his fingers along your side, caressing your curves like a feather. His voice was the gentlest whisper.

“Wonder how you’re gonna work tomorrow when you can’t walk, Y/N?”

You felt his dick awaken and gasped as you looked down. Bucky slapped your ass as he stood up to go to the foot of the bed, stroking his cock.

“Turn the fuck over. I’ll show you an old man.”

“We’ll see who is gonna knock out who first tonight. Give me that fucking arch.”

You smiled as your face was pressed into the comforter.

----

Reblog if you liked it! :)

You called Bucky on his bullshit and that made him fall even harder for you. He was honest about his plan to go legit and careful with your feelings, not immediately turning to physicality as he did with every other woman. There was something special about you that was worth the wait.

The five days had been an eternity for both of you, and Bucky had been like a teenager, unable to last very long. He was determined to set that right today, and also to tell you how he felt.

Bucky Barnes knew very little fear, but wondering if you returned his feelings was shaking him to the core.

He held to his original dream of making you smile at him forever, but those dreams had grown to thoughts of a life together, a home you could build together, and the thought of what kids together might look like.

Bucky smiled and held you closer as you snuggled deeper into his embrace and threw your leg over his hip. He caressed the soft skin of your thigh as he argued with himself. He was too old for this; he would be an old man when your kids were just going to college, but that didn’t stop him from making Steve go with him to Cartier yesterday after your event.

Steve grumbled, but he was still smitten with you from his conversation with you yesterday, so he didn’t protest the 5 carat purchase that Bucky made. His best friend just asked Bucky some pertinent questions like:

Had Bucky told you that he loved you?

Did you love him?

Did you even want to get married? To a criminal?

Did you want to have kids with Bucky?

Bucky just stared at Steve, creating the opportunity to goad him.

“But all that aside. If you don’t lock her down, I just might. I’ll close the deal swiftly.”

That left Bucky’s blood to boil while he prepared for dinner last night, but when he opened the door and saw you standing there, every negative vibe left his vicinity.

And now, you were here, warm and beautiful, and naked, in his grip. He was going to take full advantage of the few hours you might gift him today. He didn’t want to risk you running away after he told you his feelings.

He lifted your thigh and positioned himself most where he needed to be.

—--

You moaned in your sleep. You dreamed that Bucky was eating you out again, but you couldn’t quite feel his kisses and slurps to your folds, only whispers of sensation, like air. It was so frustrating, so you grabbed Buckys’ hair and scratched his scalp, trying to encourage him to be rougher.

He moaned and you smiled, calling his name.

“James, please….”

Your eyes fluttered open to the unfamiliarity of Bucky’s bedroom in the morning light. Your legs were spread wide and Bucky’s head was pillowed on your thigh, his hot breath teasing your pussy. 

“What are you doing?”

You looked down to see him staring at your most intimate parts and smiling.

“Mmmm. Good morning Frumoasă. I’m about to check an item off my long list of what I want to do to you…”

He pursed his lips and softly kiss your lower ones. You shivered and continued playing in his hair. You laughed, music to Bucky’s ears. He smiled up at you.

“Oh, so you have a list, do you?”

“Yes, an extensive one at that. I will show you later, but right now…”

Bucky moved to kneel and shoved his hands under your ass, serving you up to him as on a platter. His eyes moved from your fluttering cunt up your soft belly and your beautiful breasts to your face. He leaned forward to give you a sound smack on the lips.

“I was wondering if I was going to get a good morning kiss.”

That eyebrow arched and he moved down your body again.

“That’s all in my plan, Frumoasă. Just be patient. ”

You pulled Bucky’s hair as his long, thick tongue licked through you to your soul. You shuddered and Bucky smiled, then those lips took hold of your clit and sucked ruthlessly as he brought one hand up to push two fingers inside you, the squelch of your wetness so gloriously obscene. He stopped and just pumped those fingers inside you, listening.

“Hear how wet you are for me? It’s a dream come true.”

You reached with grabby hands for him to stimulate your clit as all he did was fuck you with his fingers and hold you open for him. You were on the edge of madness. And it seemed that was where Bucky wanted you.

“Jamie….”

“Atât de nerăbdătoare Frumoasă. savurați momentul.”

Somehow, you knew he was telling you to wait. 

“Please, please, please James. Eat your pussy please!”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his head. You begging was his weakness, what he wanted to hear from since day one. Then he realized what you’d said.

“... Did you say… that this pussy was mine?”

You smirked at him, feeling the brat.

“Maybe…”

Bucky frowned and slapped your clit, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to roll up your spine and wetness to gush out over his fingers.

“Ow! Yes! Yes! This pussy is yours, Daddy, please eat it.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and his cock, which was hard against his abdomen, jumped.

“Seems you know the magic words, Frumoasă.” 

Bucky rewarded you with his mouth clamped over your clit and his eyes locked on yours as you watched his tongue working in his jaw. He was eating you out like a professional. You arched into his face, clit hart and throbbing, ready to give him…

He pulled away as you gasp/screamed in outrage, then whimpered and pouted.

“Please Daddy!”

“Oh, you’re ruining me, I can tell. But tell me, Frumoasă, tell me…”

He regarded you now with a new possessiveness. Impossibly, it made you wetter.

“What else of yours is mine?”

You squirmed under his attention and he rewarded you with another finger in your cunt and all three curled against that electric spot within you.

“What about this ass?”

His pinky bullied into your tighter hole, and you arched as he leaned down to suck your clit like saltwater taffy.

“Oh shittttttt! Yes! Fuck yessss.”

Bucky was grinding his cock against the sheets now, possessed by the sight, taste, and feel of you in his hands. He could actually taste that you were close now, and he wanted it almost as much as you did, but he abandoned you again. He looked up at your body.

“What about those glorious tits?”

He reached up to pluck both of them of them ruthlessly over and over as he continued to finger fuck you. His breath was ragged and his face a mask of desire, but he still had a modicum of control.

“They are next on my list.”

“W-what do you mean?” 

You were thrilled and scared at the same time.

“Nu-ți face griji pentru ea frumos, doar ai răbdare.”

And his face was busy again between your legs, which were shaking around his ears. He held one down with one hand as he fucked you with the other.

“Shit, Daddy! I’m gonna….fuck! I’m gonna…”

Bucky nodded and looked up at you, then he told you to cum with his fingers and you shattered, gushing into his mouth and all over his bed.

Bucky leaned up and groaned as he played in your wetness, using that hand to begin to jack himself over your shuddering body.

“Can I come all over you, Frumoasă?”

“Yes, Daddy…”

Bucky groaned and then manhandled your nipples.

“Cum all over me, Jamie.”

Then he roared as you moved so that you could suck his balls.”

“Holy, shhhhhhitttttttt!”

You were circling your own clit as the first hot drops of his cum sprayed over your already heated body. You came one more time as he focused on your breasts and left a hot, sticky mess all over you.

Your eyes were closed as your shivered because Bucky’s hot mouth was sucking his spend off your nipples. He alternated between kisses, bites, and laps against your skin.

“James! Gotdamn! I–”

“I know, I know, Frumoasa. But I can’t get enough...suportă-mă, iubito…”

—---

Later that Sunday, around noon, you sat, twice showered, marked, edged, and fucked to within an edge of your life as you ate the brunch that Bucky made you. You were ensconced in one of his plain white tee shirts and some of his boxer briefs and socks, and he was looking at you hungrily.

You laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky smirked, happier than he’d been in a good while.

“Do you want more…?”

Despite the debauched things you’d spent the morning doing, you blushed and looked down at your plate. You felt like a slut. But in a good way. You loved sex with Bucky. It seemed like even his pleasure was focused on you. It was unlike any other relationship you’d ever had.

“I’m sorry. Do you regret it?”

Bucky stopped eating and tipped your head up by your chin with his fingers. He looked worried and you melted. You bit your lip and decided to go for it.

“No. Because I love you.”

Bucky’s fork clattered to his plate and his eyes grew wide while your bright smile faded. Then he frowned.

“Fuck.”

He looked mad.

“I- I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s too soon. I’m sorry, just forget that I said that.”

“No! Shit…”

Bucky grabbed your head and kissed you, the strawberries and cream from the waffles flooding your senses as his tongue found yours. When he was done, he grinned at you.

“I was pissed for a second, but not at you. What you just said is all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you, too and here you are, saying it first.”

You rolled your eyes, although your soul soared. You pulled away and took another bite of food.

“It’s not a competition, James.”

You said it through a full mouth.

“Hmmmm. Maybe not. But I do love you more.”

He took another, bigger bite of food and you shook your head at him.

“You are insufferable.”

Bucky grinned.

“Get used to it if you’re gonna be my girl.”

“Your girl? Oh?”

Bucky wiped his mouth, then picked you up and placed you on his lap.

“Y/N L/N. I love you. And I want to figure this thing out between us. I want you to be my girlfriend while I figure out how to be the best man for you. Then maybe… “

You stopped him with your finger on his lips.

“Listen. One step at a time, Jamie. I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes. You are the best man for me. My man. I’m along for the ride.”

Bucky kissed you, then stood up and threw you over his shoulder as he moved to his couch.

“Speaking of riding. There’s my list to attend to.”

You screamed and laughed as Bucky slapped your ass. 

——

Next part Here!

You were shaking with rage by the time you reached your brownstone and Bucky parked illegally.

“Frumoasă, let’s talk–”

“There is nothing to talk about, James. If you can’t respect my boundaries, then I don’t know what to say. I need space. Time to think.”

You glanced at him, but you looked away from the hurt on his face. 

“What does that mean?”

You cringed at the hurt in his voice. 

“I– we. Listen, you were right. We went way fast with this. It’s a lot, Jamie.”

You loved the fuck out of this man, but you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

Bucky’s voice cracked and you looked up into his ocean blue, watery eyes.

“No?”

“Are you sure?”

“No. I’m not sure, James.”

“I thought you were mine?”

You paused and took a deep breath. 

“You don’t own me. You can’t do whatever you want…”

Bucky just looked at you as if he were about to debate that fact. Then, he raised his hands and backed away.

“Our dinner date still stands. Maybe Saturday night, we can talk about this like adults…”

Your ire was raised once again.

“I am an adult, Bucky. And you are too. You should listen to me when I-”

Bucky interrupted you and ran his hand through his hair, which he had been growing out. Just for you. He was extremely frustrated.

“This relationship has been predicated on nothing but your boundaries.”

It was a standoff. You two stared at each other, an invisible wall between you. You didn’t like how it felt.

“Like I said, we need a break.”

“We agree on something, at least.”

Bucky turned and walked back to his car, and you both closed your doors at the same time, hearts beating out of tune.

—-

You only cried for a couple of hours that day, but when you woke up to no good morning text from Bucky on Monday morning, you cried again. You were hurt, angry and anxious. Were you two over and done with? You threw yourself into work, trying not to feel your emotions.

By Tuesday, Bucky was being driven mad with images of you, sensations of holding you in his arms, feeling your body around him, your voice telling him that you loved him.

Steve sensed his mood, but did not press him, just complied when Bucky asked him to speed up the timeline to divest themselves of all illegal enterprises.

On Wednesday, you were feeling some kind of way. How dare he just ignore you and pretend you didn’t exist. Was he trying to punish you or something? You didn’t realize how much Bucky’s attention mattered to you. But you bet he knew very well. You decided to have big, big fun that night with your girls.

Of course, Bucky still had eyes on you, so he knew you were safe, but he told Nico and crew to fall back a little. He didn’t want to crowd you. But he was going crazy at the fact that you didn’t reach out to him. He was giving you the space you requested and hoped that you would come back to him of your own accord. He wasn’t going to force you to do anything. It was a matter of principle, not pride.

At least that was what he told himself.

There were some things you needed to understand, however.  Bucky was just trying to take care of you. You loved him, and he loved you. This thing was destiny. And you couldn’t run from that.

Wednesday night, he got a text from you. He sighed as he headed toward your location.

—-

You wore a more revealing outfit than you usually did. You were wearing a backless top that showcased your braless breasts and the cool night had sharpened your nipples into hard peaks, pressing through the thin material. You may have been thinking about Bucky tearing the top off of you roughly, or taking off carefully, or leaving it on you as he fucked you.  He would still pay attention to your nipples no matter what. You were horny for your man, and not thinking about tempting anyone else.

So you decided to break the ice and send him a selfie.

When Bucky didn’t respond, you got angry all over again. How dare he just continue to ignore you? You were a queen, and you were going to act like one. You went to the club, got tipsy, and acted as if you were in college again, taking drinks from anyone who offered. And there were lots of offers. You danced with your girls, and later, with the men who bought you drinks.

It was all harmless fun, right?

Through the crowd and the flashing lights, you saw a familiar profile, a head of hair and those unmistakable shoulders. Bucky was there, and his body language indicated that he was aware and interested in what you were doing.

So you gave him a show.

A woman came up to him and he looked down at her, a small smile on his lips. A jolt of jealousy rocked your body when he moved to a quiet corner with her and of all the colors in the club, all you could see was red. When she smiled up at him and her hand reached for his arm, you began grinding on the body behind you.

The man pulled you closer and practically yelled in your ear.

“You come here often?”

You rolled your eyes as his hands squeezed your hips and moved down. 

“Yeah. Let’s just dance.”

You moved his hands away but then they glided over your stomach and skimmed your back, thumbs brushing dangerously near your top. He pulled you even closer and started grinding as you tried to keep his octopus arms off of you. You glanced toward the corner and saw one person talking on the other locked in on you. And then moving in your direction.

You were relieved and terrified, because what had you gotten yourself into?

And what was Bucky going to do now? He looked like an animal, stalking his prey, dangerous.

The stranger moved his hands again and you recoiled, just as Bucky’s hand landed on your bare shoulder.

“That’s enough. Time to go.”

The random guy chucked his chin up at Bucky. 

“Who the fuck are you? Me and my girl are dancing here.”

You heard a record scratch, even though the music was still blaring.

“What did you say?”

Now you were afraid for this man’s life.

“C’mon James, let’s go. He’s drunk off his ass.”

You tried to pull him away, but he was not moved, staring down the man who would go down if Bucky breathed on him the wrong way. After a second, Bucky turned toward you, fury in his eyes.

You breathed a sigh of relief, even though you knew you were in for it. But Drunk Guy just had to open his mouth.

“Fucking whore. Acting like a slut on the dance floor and then leaving with this—”

And it was lights out for Drunk Guy, because Bucky Barnes laid him out flat with one punch.

Sam appeared out of nowhere to control the crowd as Bucky steered you through the crowd. His tense hand on your back sent a flash of dark excitement through you. He guided you by the elbow through the kitchen of the club. He took off his jacket and draped it around your shoulders before taking you out to the cold alley to his waiting car.  He walked you around the passenger side and opened the door, but before you could get in, a tug on your arm sobered you up.

You turned to see so much ice in Bucky’s glare. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

“You are in so much trouble,” Bucky’s lowly growled threat made goosebumps rise on your skin.

 “What do you mean?” 

You shaky voice belied your nerves.

“Get this clear, Frumoasă. You are, in fact, mine. That man’s hands were all over your body. All over what was mine.”

Bucky was leaning down, face close to yours, rage barely contained. You knew he would never truly hurt you, but…

“I had things under control,” you urgently whispered back. You wouldn’t back down from him.

“What about you? Who were you huddled up with in the corner?.” 

Bucky’s eyes glinted.

“Jealous?”

He got even closer. 

“No, you are,”

Bucky’s  jaw tensed, and a vein pulsed in his neck. You hit a nerve. 

“I know that woman from… from before you. She means nothing to me.” 

Bucky brought his hand up to your neck and buried his fingers in the hair at the nape of your head. He tangled your curls and tugged, none too gently, bringing your eyes up to meet his.

“I don’t want her. There is no one but you. “

You were trembling in his grip, panties soaked, mouth open for breath. Seeing Bucky this worked up brought out something in you. Something you didn’t realize was there.

“Take me home, James.”

“Y/N.” 

His voice chilled you. He gave you a cold smile. 

“I said you were in trouble, and I meant it. You’re getting punished.” 

Your jaw dropped, and your face flamed as you started to say something. But a wave of need crashed into your cunt. You were intrigued.

“What are you going to do?” 

Your voice wavered despite your efforts to appear calm. Good lord you wanted this.

“What you deserve,” he said calmly, gesturing for you to get into the car. You resisted.

“Tell me now.”

He indicated the car again and you sat down, trembling as he buckled you in and walked around to the driver's seat. You took a deep breath before he got in himself. 

Bucky leaned toward you menacingly.

“You have driven me to the edge these past few days, Y/N. I love you, I don’t know how else to explain this to you, so I’m going to show you tonight with a consequence for your actions. Either you accept that consequence and come to my place, or I drive you home. And we seriously reconsider what we’re doing here.”

You looked into his icy blues and you knew he was serious. You two had talked about some kinks and limits while starting to experiment with his more dominant side and your submissive side. These versions of you first manifested when you called him ‘Daddy.’ Punishment and reward was a heavy theme in your verbal foreplay. A little humiliation and praise was mixed into your physicality, and it thrilled you. 

Bucky made you feel safe, and tonight you had been unsafe.

“I’ll take my punishment, Daddy.”

Bucky’s eyes stuttered half closed, but he quickly recovered, managing to stay cool toward you as he whispered a gruff, “Good."

He started the car and pulled into the street, headed toward Brooklyn.

"Now sit back and make yourself invisible. I’m trying to calm down and I need to concentrate to not be too rough with you when we get home."

You settled back into your seat, thinking hard about that word, ‘home.’

—--

Bucky virtually ignored you until you got into his bedroom, and you surprised yourself with how much you just wanted him to look at you. You were a whore for his attention. And now you knew that he knew that.

That’s when you realized that your punishment had already begun.

You walked ahead of him on shaky legs on the deep pile carpet of his bedroom, legs shaking and heat emanating from your core. You felt his hand tug you to a stop as he turned you around to face him. 

Bucky took his jacket off of your shoulders as he finally looked at you, admiring the pout on your face. 

“You were a good girl. So silent on the ride over and in the elevator.”

You shuddered as he spoke and as his fingers touched your bare shoulders. 

“You like being a good girl for me, don’t you?”

His palm moved from your shoulder up to your cheek.

“Yet you weren’t a good girl earlier tonight, were you?”

He was so close to you, his lips millimeters from yours.

“James, please –”

The space between your lips was driving you crazy. 

“I think you need to be spanked, Frumoasă.” 

His voice was so calm, in contrast to the whirlwind inside you. You were anxious, but you wanted this in your soul.

“We will talk while I spank you. You have got to understand how much I care for you. How much I love you.”

Anger with a rush of excitement coursed through your body.

 “I— This is— Fuck,” you whispered. 

Bucky pecked your lips, allowing just one bright spot of tenderness before he abruptly sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“Over my lap, Frumoasă.” 

“Christ, James.” 

“Now.” 

His eyes were iceberg blue. There was no trace of soft Bucky.

 “Or I will put you there myself.” 

“Do it,” you whispered, ever defiant.

In an instant, you were thrown over the bed like you weighed nothing, and flipped onto his lap.

“There we go.” 

His satisfied voice made you shiver. A large hand slipped off your heels and peeled your leggings down your legs. You squirmed, knowing that he could see the wet spot on your your panties. 

“Esti atat de frumoasă iubirea mea.” You are so beautiful my love.

He smoothed your panties against your wet crease before he yanked them down in one swift movement, exposing you to the cool air in his bedroom. 

“I’m going to enjoy this. You, not so much,” 

“Get on with it.” 

“Watch your mouth, and stop rolling your eyes.” 

Bucky squeezed your ass cheek as he read you like a book, and you braced for a blow.

“Don’t hurt me,” you pleaded in a whisper, chastened now.

“This isn’t going to be about pain.” 

You rubbed your nipples against the comforter, searching for some relief to the sexual tension coursing through your body.

“Then what?”

You were breathless as he rubbed circles on your ass. A slap landed, quick and stinging, causing you to  jump.

“It’s about you being a spoiled little princess.” 

His voice was rougher. Oh Lord. That nickname was your undoing. It felt so right. 

“I am not!” 

You gasped when he spanked you again, heat radiating from the spot. 

“Brat. Don’t contradict me.”

Fingers slipped into your folds.

“See? A spoiled, wet princess.” 

You bucked, lifting your ass to his touch, not trying to hide your reaction. 

“Mmm, you like being called that, don’t you? Your body can’t hide the truth.” 

“Daddy…” 

You buried your face in the bed as he rubbed your clit. How could he be so calm?

“That’s it, Prinţesă Open up for me.” 

More spanks made you moan wantonly. 

“I’m going to fuck you you here…” 

Two fingers moved deep into your cunt..

 “…And here.”

He lightly stroked the cleft of your ass. 

“Yes, I want you there. Please!”

Bucky’s intake of breath told you that he hadn’t expected your response. 

“Iti place, Prinţesă aia? You like that?” 

“God, it feels so good.” 

Bucky circled your tight hole and worked a finger inside. 

“Fuck, you feel so tight and untouched,” he crooned as you arched into his hands. 

“Almost innocent. But you are anything but, aren’t you? You were acting like a slut earlier. Letting him touch what’s mine.”

“James—”

You were angry and yet so close to cumming at the same time.

Bucky laughed. 

“You wanted attention, now you have it. Do you want me to have Sam bring him here to watch me do this to you? Or should I just call Sam? Or Steve? Or Nat? All three perhaps? You need an audience, Frumoasă?”

You were so wet at what he was saying despite your embarassment.

“Look at you.”

His voice was so condescending. Why did that get you even wetter? 

“You are so worked up over the idea. They’d be eager. They all say how fine you are, and how they would have you right where I do if I hadn’t made the first move.”

You pussy spasmed as he plunged two fingers inside you again while his thumb pressed down on your clit. He pulled away before you could fall over the edge and you grunted in frustration. 

“It’ll never happen though, because you’re mine. My little slut. My cum whore.”

A smack stung your ass. 

“Fuuuckkkk, Jamie….”

You were shuddering, shaking, creaming all over his hand. 

“My pure and total slut. In every way.”

You kicked, your ass fluttering around the two fingers he had inserted. Your pussy was gushing, but you could find no relief. Another hard smack rained down and you cried out. 

“Do you think I could ever look at anyone else while you are in the world, Frumoasă? A thousand women could be in here — naked, begging — and I wouldn’t look their way. Not once."

“James—” 

“Not when you’re here, so pretty on my lap, with your pussy on fire and your body desperate for what I can give you.” 

You whimpered and tried to close your legs for pressure on your clit, but Bucky spread your thighs with his hands and stared down into your shiny, wet cunt.

“And you're not just desperate.” 

Bucky was relentless. 

“You're greedy. They would have to watch while I fucked you, because you can’t wait.”

“Oh, fuck, Jamesssss!”

“That’s why I give you all my time, my attention, all my money, because I will give you anything you ask for. And more, Frumoasă.”

You hid your face, slung over his lap, and his big fingers began stroking in and out of you again.

Lightning bolted through you.

You gasped and clamped down on his hand. You came so hard. And then he was spanking you again. Your ass was numb now. 

Somehow you wound up on the bed, belly-down, knees on the floor with Bucky kneeling behind you. You arched your back, body begging for him. Another slap landed on your heated ass.

“Look at you, putting on a show. Just like earlier in the middle of the dance floor. But all of this is mine. No one else’s.”

Bucky grasped your breasts through your thin top and you whimpered, face down on his bed, presenting for him, spreading your legs, beckoning him to stop the torture and enter you.

“Need your cock, Daddy. Please. I’m sorry!”

A sudden smack on your clit made you cry out. Pleasure bloomed out from your cunt and your thighs were now soaked.

“Yes, you need me. And it’s okay. It’s okay to be taken care of, to lose control. I’ve got you Frumoasa.” 

For once, you had nothing to say, you just gripped the covers as Bucky lifted your hands and moved them behind your back, holding them together.

“I wish you could see your ass right now, Baby.” 

His voice was husky with lust. 

“It’s so red and so warm. So fucking beautiful. But you deserve my cock, too, don’t you?” 

He sank into you without warning, your wetness enabling him to sink in with one thrust. You were helpless; you just had to take it. You moaned as his thumb entered your ass as he squeezed your hip. And you felt so full, fucked sensless by his relentless nature.

“So fucking wet,” he growled. “And you want me to fuck your ass.” 

“Please, Daddy…”

You were sobbing now, wanting everything he was giving you, everything he was saying, and more.  

“Please cum inside me.”

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Love it when you beg. You should see the creamy goodness you are leaving around my cock..”

Bucky threw his head back and moaned, shutting his eyes tight from the erotic sight. His thrusts became erratic as his cum hit your wet, hot walls. Your mouth opened in a wide O and a silent scream as you came around him.

He growled as he finished, his hand rubbing your back as he softened inside you. You slumped against the bed as he rained kisses down your spine.

“Are you okay, Prinţesă?”

You smiled.

“More than okay.”

Bucky smiled and kissed your forehead before retreating to the bathroom. He came back, cleaned you up, and helped you to fully undress as you climbed into his bed.

He went to the kitchen to get a glass of water for you and made you drink, before he took off his clothes and climbed into bed with you and took you into his arms.

“Do you still love me, Y/N?”

Confident, dominant Bucky Barnes was gone. You looked up into his uncertain blue eyes.

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have come with you if I didn’t. I love you, James Barnes. I’m still yours. It’s just— I’ve been taking care of myself for so long that I don’t know how–”

Bucky put his finger over your lips.

“That’s all I wanted to hear right now. Let’s get some rest. We will talk in the morning. I’m not letting you go without a fight. I love you, so much, Frumoasă.”

You kissed him and relaxed into his arms.

“You own me, Frumoasă, body and soul.”

—-

Next part here.