I came out, bonnet in hand, to find him already sitting in bed with the covers over his lap. I turned off the bathroom light behind me, dimming the room but for a faint glow coming through the door from the light above the sink in the kitchenette, the nightlight in the bathroom, and the moonlight through the bedroom window blinds. I never had all the lights off anymore. It felt claustrophobic, like being buried, and I hated it.
I climbed onto the bed and crawled up toward him. I could barely read his face from the end of the bed in the near darkness, but it seemed like he was torn somewhere between running away and grabbing me. "Steve, I know we've done this before, but you seem nervous. Are you really okay with this?"
He nodded, "I am." He reached out, and I came to him. He guided me up to him, helped me under the covers and astride his lap. He was just in boxer briefs and his sleeveless undershirt.
"Steve," I smiled, settling over his firm thighs, but not too close. My hands rested atop his bare shoulders. "I wasn't expecting such a forward move."
"I don't know if I was either, but this feels nice." He ran his hands up and down my sides, my pajama top dragging a little under his touch. He regarded my face for a long moment. "What now, Cookie?"
"That depends on what you are comfortable with." I rested my hands against his broad chest. "I'm not going to press you, Steve. I want you to decide what you are okay with. I'm just as happy to settle down to sleep and be held as I am with anything else."
He looked like he was having trouble figuring out what to say. "I don't want to just go to sleep."
"Ok, how about we do 'what's good for the goose is good for the gander'? You can touch me, but only in places and ways you would be okay with me touching you tonight. If you do something I am uncomfortable with, I'll stop you."
He looked relieved that I'd made a suggestion, and thought about it for a second. Then he nodded, "I can do that." He gazed up at me, for a long moment, as though contemplating something deeply important. Then, he twined his fingers into my hair and came up to meet my lips with his.
Steve kissed like he did most things. Thoughtfully, respectfully, and with so much care. His lips moved against mine, asking me to meet them and I did, sighing against their softness, and I felt his body relax a little more as I parted my lips, asking him to do more. I felt his tongue flick against my lower lip. I met it with mine, nipped the tip of it a little, and it was like I'd given him the green light. That's when I got my first glimpse of what was pent up inside Steve Rogers.
His hand tightened in my hair, his head tilted a little more, and with a groan, suddenly he was kissing me like all thoughts had left his head but crawling inside me through my mouth. My hands went in his hair, gripping with the same tension he gave me and he growled into me, breaking the kiss to pull my head back and work his way down my throat as a shuddering sigh escaped me. His mouth reached the middle of my chest where the collar of my top ended, dipped to the side and mouthed the delicate skin, drawing into his mouth hard to leave a hickey on one side of my cleavage as the hand not in my hair gripped one side of my ass. I gasped. "Steve!"
He looked up at me like he'd done something wrong. Then he saw my face, met my eyes, and his next breath came out rough. "Was that okay?"
"I'm not upset, just surprised," I answered, my voice a little breathy. "Just remember the deal, honey," I added, catching his gaze and rising up onto my knees. "I get to do the same." And then I fisted my hand in his hair and kissed him hard before working with lips and teeth down his throat and using my chin to shove his collar down more so I could reach his sternum. The moan that fell from his lips sent a shiver through me as I bit his left pec, drawing the skin in my mouth. I licked the bruise I'd left and his hips twitched under me. I came back up to look down at him. He was panting, eyes closed, lips parted. Well, this is an interesting development.
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The World Keeps Changing
FanfictionAfter the death of my family in the Battle of New York, I escape from the pain of loss in my work, continuing to work for Stark Industries in the position of Executive Chef. One of my many duties has become Personal Chef to the Avengers. Is there a...