The Winter Ghost

Part 18

The moment the door closed to Bucky's room, his body was on you, solidly pressing you to the wall. His lips trailed down your jaw onto your neck as he bit down on your pulse point causing you to sob in burning desire.

His head snapped back up to meet your gaze. Even in the dim lighting of his room, you could see his arctic iris's were completely lust blown. You were desperate and needy for his touch, but he was frozen.

Your eyes softened, looking up at him. "Buck?" You signed. He winced at your voice, his forehead dropping to yours.

"I don't want to hurt you." He faltered, but there was a darkness in his voice. Similar to the man you had met in the hall with his metal appendage wrapped around your throat. Which begged the question.

Was he sure?

"I want you- want him. You won't hurt me. You can't." You potested, fisting his shirt and pulling him closer to you, desperate to feel his body on yours again. In a flash, both his hands were on either of your head, pressing against the wall, trapping you there.

"I could lose control." He begged, but you could already tell by the way he bit down on his bottom lip, eyes devouring you, that you had begun to persuade him.

"Would that be such a bad thing, Sarge?" You purred, running your palms over his waist, fumbling with his belt until it came undone. In one swift pull, you threw it on the floor behind him.

He let out a dark chuckle that vibrated through your chest before he lifted you off the ground as you wrapped your legs around him. He carried you like that until your back hit the bed, hard. Bucky dropped onto his knees between your legs which draped over the side of the bed. He took a moment to scan your body, watching your chest rise and fall as his hands roamed and massaged your thighs.

It had been longer than Bucky cared to confess since he had touched a woman like this. Never mind a woman of such caliber. He wanted to enjoy himself, allowing you to really know that man he fought so hard to become. But the pulling fear that the monster would unleash itself kept him there, gazing over you for a moment longer.

You watched Bucky from beneath your lashes, knelt on the ground like he was praying between your thighs. The man looked terrified, which if you thought about, sounded silly. This was the Bucky Barnes after all. All the stories he and others had told you about his past life in the forties indicated he knew what he was doing when it came to this. And yet, there he sat, open and afraid. Vulnerable and small.

"We can't ever go back to normal after this."

"And pray tell, what exactly is normal, hm? You killing and then not killing my ex fiance? Me attempting to kill you after finding out about said fiance? Is it the brainwashing or the covert undercover spying that makes us normal? Or the homicidal rage that we both are constantly battling? Is that it."

"Point taken." He signed, forcing a smile.

"Come here." You beconned him, resisting the urge to giggle when his head snapped up to meet your gaze, his eyes wide with worry.

Without hesitation, he climbed onto the bed, his thighs on either side of yours. You wrapped your hand around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, feeling him relax into you. "I just want to make you feel good, doll." He mumbled against your mouth, peppering your jaw and exposed shoulder.

You signed in appreciation, pulling his head to look at you. And boy, was that a mistake.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. When you lost your... temper." You breathed.