It was only meant to be one time.
Just once. A drunken tryst. But once had turned into five. And tonight was number six. You just couldn't stay away from Bucky Barnes. No matter how hard you tried. It just wasn't possible. And yet, no one knew. And you planned on keeping it that way.
The door clicked shut and you looked up. The moon illuminated his figure as he shrugged off his leather jacket. Tossing it to the chair in the corner, he paused for a moment, taking you in. Already bare for him, a pleasured growl spilled from his lips. "Ready?," he asked and you simply nodded. Always ready.
You watched carefully as he stripped, leaving a trail of clothes in his wake as he made his way over to you. He knelt down at the foot of the bed and grabbed your ankle, pulling you down further with a dark chuckle. "Needy?," he breathed and you nodded again. "You're always needy." You hummed in confirmation, breath hitched as his metal finger circled your clit.
"She's wet, too," he breathed, his gown breath hitching in his throat. He licked his lips and lowered his head, taking his first taste of the night with a feral moan. Deep. Sinful. Tongue flattened against your folds, moaning deeply as he worked you, playing you like an instrument. "Sing, sweetheart," he whispered, "song for me."
So you did.
Breathy moans. Sharp whimpers and whines. Back arched, desperate to get closer. Desperate for more. But you knew Bucky. He'd take his time. Work you until you couldn't breathe. Work you until you were sweating, panting. Practically in tears. "Louder," he begged, groaning against your heat, two metal fingers pressed inside you, curled just right.
"Sing."
A loud moan poured from you. Legs shaking, hands gripping the sheets as his fingers worked just right. Lips wrapped around your clit. Making you practically scream as he worked you into your first orgasm. But he wouldn't stop. Bucky was relentless. Wanting more. Needing more. Needing to feel you, to hear you. To watch you come completely undone.
Two more mind blowing orgasms.
"So pretty when you come," he praised, sitting up on his knees, lazily stroking his cock with the vibranium hand. Eyes roaming over every inch of your already fucked out body. Taking you in like it was the first time. Appreciating you. Worshiping you. "So pretty when she sings for me, aren't you?," he asked, kissing his way up your body.
Lips on your neck, your throat. Across your jaw, tongue down your throat. Possessive. Hungry. A low growl. Hands squeezing your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around him. Wanting to get deep, as deep as he could. Needing you, needing to feel you. "Gonna sing for me?," he breathed in your ear. "Gonna give yourself away? Gonna let them all know what we do in the dark?"
You nodded. You didn't care anymore what they all thought, it was your life not theirs. "How loud can you get?," he chuckled low. "How loud can you get for me? Loud enough for everyone to hear? So they know exactly what we've been doing? Tired of keeping this our dirty little secret? Want everyone to know?" You nodded again, desperate to feel him. He was teasing, running the head of his cock along your folds.
"Bucky, please," you begged and he chuckled again. "Needy," he growled, "so needy." He continued to rub you, making you writhe beneath him. "What do you do when I'm not around? Touch yourself? Do you think about me? Cause I think about you." He groaned, pushing in slowly. "Good girl," he moaned when you arched your hips, "come on and sing for me."
"Sing pretty girl."
Deep thrusts. Slow, snails pace. He wanted to draw it out. Make it last this time. No fast pace, not hard. Desperate, needy. No, not this time. He needed it to last. It had been too long. He wanted to remember it. Memorize you all over again. Feel every inch of your velvet walls. Wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him. He wanted you to sing.
Your moans filled the room along with his grunts and groans. The sound of skin on skin. Your wetness, making him groan even louder. "So wet and warm," he grunted, head falling back, eyes shut. You loved this, when he was this blissed out. Knowing you were the reason. He couldn't keep the slow pace for long. Once you came again, your walls practically vibrating around him, clenching him tightly, he picked up the pace.
Fast. Hard. Deep.
"Sing louder," he grunted, prompting you to moan even louder, sure to be heard in the hallway to anyone who passed by. "Louder, oh fuck baby!," he moaned, hips stuttering. Pace faltering. Head dropped to your shoulder, kissing the feverish skin. "Baby, oh god," he whined, filling you up. "So good."
****
You laid in his arms.
He didn't leave this time. Didn't sneak out in the shadows. Didn't leave you all alone. Not this time. No, he held you close, kissing your head softly. He didn't want to leave. Not anymore. "You're perfect," he breathed, tilting his head down to capture your lips. Hands rubbing up and down your back to soothe your breathing. "So perfect." After drifting off for a bit, you woke, staring into the most beautiful blue eyes.
"Will you sing again for me?"
