The Boss [COMPLETED]

Bedroom

He was getting out of the car while you just frowned at him, confused at what the fuck just happened, and why he was now reaching for your hand and pulling you out of the car as well.

You blinked as you stood in the cold air, apparently outside his building, then refocused your gaze on him. His expression was bland as he buttoned his suit jacket, and it was only the creases at the bottom of his jacket, around his hips, that told you that you hadn't imagined what just happened in the car.

There was nothing you could say as you were pushed into the building, into the elevator, down the hall. Entering his new security code was a blur, the conversations happening behind your head were muffled, the only noise sounding normal being the front door of the apartment slamming behind you once you were inside.

You froze on the spot as everything was suddenly silent, Bucky walking past you towards the kitchen and ridding himself of his jacket as he walked, chucking it straight on the floor.

You felt hot. But a different kind of hot than 10 seconds ago. You felt angry.

When Bucky reappeared with two glasses of red wine, he held one out to you, his expression still providing no explanation to why he just left you unfinished.

"Take it." He ordered, nodding to the glass he was holding out for you. Swallowing a shaky inhale, and trying to swallow your anger with it, you took it.

He watched you, taking a sip of his glass, and it was only when he took the glass away from his lips, his tongue swiping to catch a stray drop from the corner of his mouth, that you saw the first crack of the facade; his right eyebrow twitching up, as if he wanted to raise it, to question something.

Your teeth clenched together as you realised what it meant; this was all a fucking game to him. To see how long it would take you to crack.

On any other day, on any other night, you would have welcomed the challenge. Taken it in your stride, made him second guess how weak you really were.

But tonight, you were absolutely not in the fucking mood to be messed around.

"Something to say Doll?" He asked.

Your anger flared, and you found yourself throwing your wine to the floor, the glass smashing into a thousand pieces, the red liquid splattering over the wall and spilling across the grains in the wood, seeping closer and closer to his shoes.

Your reaction to his question didn't surprise you once you'd taken into account how riled up you felt. What did surprise you, was what he did next.

Bucky also threw his glass to the floor, the sound of it breaking in the same spot as yours shattering through the air and making you flinch.

Then Bucky was storming towards you, the glass crunching beneath his shoes, shoving you against the door and crashing his mouth to yours in a punishing kiss. It mimicked the way you attacked him in the car; messy, and desperate, hands gripping your face like you were the last thing on earth, your hands in his hair like you wanted to rip it out. Which you kind of did considering how he was acting.

Then he was grabbing your thighs, lifting you up and slamming you back against the door, your head shuddering from the impact, the kiss getting somehow needier. You were both being loud, breathy, tongues fighting together as you were both trying to take what you needed. His hand was then between you, pulling the material of your dress out of the way so that he could push his fingers into you, two at once, sinking into your core with lewd wet noises, gathering his come from the car and fucking it back into you. You moaned into his lips, and he used the opportunity to break the kiss, pull his fingers out of you and slide them into your mouth.

"Suck." He commanded, only breaking his intense stare once he felt your tongue wrap around them, and moving to your neck to suck a new bruise on your skin.

When his hips rolled against yours, and you moaned again, he withdrew his fingers, let you fall down to the floor, and wrapped his hand around your wrist instead, turning and dragging you down the hall. Your shoes and your dress ran over the spilled wine and shards of glass, the crunch and both of your footsteps the only sound in the volatile air.

It appeared that Bucky wasn't quite done with you yet, which sent a thrill through your veins. But you had no idea what to expect.

Especially when you realised he was leading you to his bedroom.

Opening his door, he pulled you in, then threw it shut and pushed you up against it again. Wordlessly, he resumed his attacks on your neck, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling your body close to him as he eagerly felt for the zip of the dress.

"What are you doing Buck?" You asked in a breathy and shaky voice after letting him explore for a second. He just growled into your neck and dragged his fingers down your back, round to your hip, then shoved you back into the door. His mouth came up to yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth without any warning, sucking all the air out of your lungs.

He left your question unanswered for a few minutes as he claimed your mouth. It wasn't until one expert roll of his hips, making you whimper beneath him, that he finally released you from the bruising kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as one hand started running down to your exposed thigh and pulling it up to his hips.

"I'm planning exactly how I'm going to fucking ruin you."

Your stomach dropped at his confession. Then you felt your body start to ignite with lust.

Dragging his mouth back to yours, you felt all the anger disappearing through the connection between your lips, your hands and your bodies pressed together. Pushing forwards, you walked him backwards, towards his bed, undoing the buttons on his shirt until you felt the shudder of the bed hit the back of his legs. Separating from the kiss, you pushed on his chest, making him fall back onto the sheets, not missing the way he was looking up at you like you were a meal he was about to devour.

"Come on then," You challenged, your voice taking a similar tone to the one you used to use at the Red Room. "Tell me how you're going to ruin me."

Licking his bottom lip as he let his eyes wander over you, he leant back on his elbows, making the fabric of his shirt stretch where his buttons were undone, showing more of his chest while you reached your hands behind you to find the zip of the dress.

He watched as you slowly pulled it down, the tic tic of the metal teeth coming apart echoing around his room. The material loosened around your chest and your arms, but you didn't take the dress off just yet.

You wanted assurance that something was actually going to happen. That he wasn't going to just leave you wanting like he had in the car.

You had finally caught onto why he was playing this game. This intense to and fro, the taking and edging. Leaving you unsatisfied, knowing it would piss you off. He wanted chaos, a power fight, to counteract what happened at the Ball where he hadn't been in control one bit.

To a normal person, it wouldn't have made sense. But to you, as someone in this world, it was perfectly logical. This was something he could control. Something he can push. You were someone he knew would push back. You were someone that could also dominate. To get everything back into balance. Fighting fire with fire.

Even his choice of bringing you here, to his bedroom, it was part of the game. This environment was safe, familiar, which was what he needed when everything else seemed so uncertain.

Of course, it wouldn't all be so uncertain if you just told him the truth.

But that wasn't on the cards tonight, so in response to the rising guilt in your stomach, you put your knee on the bed between his legs, your hands either side of his hips, and leaned over him, holding yourself just far enough away that he couldn't quite touch you, but he could feel the breath from your lips when you spoke.

"I said, tell me how you're going to ruin me." You whispered, and when he raised an eyebrow at you, you smirked. "Sir."