Mornings with him are your favorite.
It's so rare, so when it happens, it's amazing. Hands are everywhere. His lips are pressed to your neck, whispering filthy things. His voice has that morning gruff that makes you ache for him.
Bucky was so touch starved for so long, that he makes up for it whenever he can. He loves to touch you. To make you moan for him. To hear his name from your lips. To know he's the reason you feel so damn good.
"Want you...," he breathes against your shoulder, pressing his hard cock against your ass, slowly rutting his hips. He can't help himself, you do that to him. "Need you...," he continues, slipping his hand between your thighs, circling your clit.
You let out a small gasp and you feel him smirk. He's got you. "Gonna get wet?," he asks, his voice thick, full of lust, and he already knows the answer. You're half way there. "Ride my fingers, sugar."
You do as he tells you, rolling your hips, your eyes still closed, half way between awake and asleep. You moan, just a bit, and you feel him smirk again. "Love that sound," he sighs, trailing his lips from your neck to your shoulder. "Do it again," he tells you, pushing two fingers into your now-wet core.
You happily oblige, another sinful moan escaping your lips, earning a satisfied sigh. "So pretty...all mine," he moans as he works you, closer and closer to a release. "Need you...," he repeats, rolling you over to your back, spreading your legs.
"Love you...," he pants in your ear as he fills you with one long, slow thrust of his hips. Your hand goes to the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair, wanting and oh so desperately needing more.
You whine, whimper and writhe beneath him, silently begging for more and he knows. He knows you well enough to know what you need, what you crave from him. He hooks his arms under your thighs and leans in for a kiss.
It's heated, all tongue and teeth. It's needy, so you know how he feels. How much he needs you...desires you. His breath hitches as he buries himself deep, brushing repeatedly over your g-spot. You clench around him and he bites down on his lip. He needs to hold out, yet he's so close.
"Feel so good...," he pants, driving deeper, harder. He wants to make you cum and fuck, if you're not so close. "Come on, baby," he encourages you, nipping at your neck, brushing his tongue over your ear. "Cum for me."
It's all you needed. That little push and the dam broke, your nails digging into his shoulders. Crying out his name as your body shook. It was heaven. It was bliss. His head fell back and you opened your eyes to watch.
Your favorite part.
Bucky was beyond beautiful when he came. And you were sure you'd sell your soul to see it, to be the reason. "Oh doll!...," he cried out, his hips stuttering for a moment before he sighed softly, his eyes closed, a wicked grin on his face as he filled you.
He moved after a few moments, laying next to you and placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, the grin never leaving his face. You were his happiness. You were his home. He looked at you for a long moment, kissed you once more.
"Good morning."
