She's Mine) Romanogers

Part 8) Stitches, Then Sex

He was no better, his hands roving around to my ass and squeezing, I gave a little squeal in delight. I felt his fingers fumble around for the zipper that was not there, "damn you suit," he cursed as he pulled back, his hands now going right for the zipper. I laughed and leaned myself back so he could get me out of the suit, the movement rubbing our two very sensitive areas together.

He suddenly stopped his movements enough that I looked down at him, "shit, your arm." Steve immediately forgot about the zipper and was solely focused on my wound.

"Steve, we can deal with that later. I am begging you, fuck me," I leaned in and tried to kiss him again, but he ducked his head away.

"Stitches, then sex," he insisted.

"Nooo," I whined. This was the second time this week he had teased me, and I honestly didn't think I could handle waiting again.

"Nat, you're actively bleeding," he argued.

"Not a lot," I counted, "I am begging you," I was almost whimpering as I started to work on the zipper myself, "it's not that bad."

"I will be the judge of that," he grabbed my hands in his own, "we'll call the jet and get you fixed up, then we can have all the sex you want."

"I don't want to call the jet, it has cameras!"

He paused as he realized I was right, "Nat, we need to take care of you first."

"Just one round?" I pushed, this time I moved my hips on purpose and let them rub against him. He jumped and tensed at the pleasure it caused, his resolve struggling.

"My priority is to keep you safe, and I don't want to risk you losing too much blood for a quickie," he gave me a sympathetic look, "call the jet."

I couldn't stop the eye roll as I started to punch our coordinates into the pad on my wrist. "I hate you," I whispered under my breath.

"I know, and I love you too," he nuzzled his head into the crook of my neck.

I knew his intention was not to tease me, but every part of me was so damned sensitive right now, "you can't do that," I pushed back and stood up.

"What?" Come on Nat," he twisted where he was sitting but didn't stand up.

"The next time you touch me better end in sex, or I'm going to kill you and tell Fury you died on the mission due to your own stupidity," which wouldn't be untrue.

"Okay, how about you let me touch you to check out that wound, and after that the 'no touch unless fuck' rule can take place?" He stood up this time and stood behind me, but at a healthy distance.

"You're killing me," I complained.

"Quite the opposite, trying to keep you alive," he took a step closer, "now, can I look at the 'light graze?'"

"If you don't mock me," I turned to face him. I was genuinely a bit upset that he wouldn't just fuck me and that he had to care so much about a stupid cut.

Steve P.O.V.

I took another step forward when she faced me. I felt terrible that I was the one cock blocking us, and I knew she was getting desperately frustrated, but her safety would forever be my priority. The wound was bleeding through her makeshift band aid enough that I knew it was bad. I didn't like that she was so cold either, I was starting to worry about how much blood she had already lost.

I let her shirk her shoulder out of the suit and tried my best not to think about taking the rest of that suit off. Just because I was the one being rational didn't mean I didn't want sex as badly as her right now. The blue balls were bad right now and had been for a while.