Every time he kisses you, he acts like a man possessed – as if he could pull your soul from your body and entangle it with his. He always leave you burning and aching for more.
In record time, he divests you of your uniform. The sharp sting of the zipper catching on the skin of your stomach as he lowers it. It is the only memory you have of it being gone.
You unbutton his black tac pants as you wrap your small hand around the length of him and pull him out. He’s already hard and ready and you rub your thumb along the head of his cock to catch the pre-cum weeping there. His whole body jerks at the feeling before he slides his arms beneath your ass and lifts you up against the wall.
You suddenly realize that you’re nearly stark naked while he’s fully clothed.
You can’t help but enjoy the sensation of his metal zippers and textured uniform grazing areas of your bare skin raw. He’s an armory of weapons. Two long serrated blades are strapped to his back, the thick black handles within your reach. Your ankles brush against his thigh holsters that hold Beretta M9’s. The utility belt hangs low at his waist – mini grenades and ammo – bumping up against your legs. There are also the secret places along his hip – combat knives and a glock. You feel there telltale shapes and the danger of him.
This soldier of death has you writhing beneath him against the cold metal wall of a Hydra facility. The thought leaves you utterly wet.
His big hands are rough against your skin – thick fingers trail along your inner thigh until they’re sinking into you. His wrist works fast – digits sliding in and out – teasing you until you’re moaning and gripping his shoulder.
“You’re so fucking wet, doll,” he growls into your neck. “Soaked all for me.”
You mumble something akin to a yes or maybe a fuck and your legs fall open wider.
He removes his hand and then circles his thick cock against your hot center. He pumps it slowly and presses the head up against your folds, brushing against the wetness as he moves it up and down. It scrapes against your clit and you sigh at the sensation. Your legs tremble under his calloused hands.
He pauses and looks up at you. The two of you are breathing heavily, chests heaving and mouthes open. The air tastes like the sea – moist and salty. His eyes burn under heavy lids – pure lambent blue – ocean deep.
You caress his face between your palms and he leans into it, pressing a kiss to your palm. His stubbly cheek pricks your skin.
It’s a moment of sweetness. Bucky can be so aggressive and commanding in bed and yet there are those quick flashes, pockets of intimacy, in which, a switch flips and he goes soft.
He looks at you as if you’re his entire world.
It always leaves you shaken at how much you love him.
You love him so much it hurts. It burns you from the inside out – eating away at the edges of your soul and strangling your heart in a vice.
You tighten your thighs around his waist, the scratchy leather rough along tender skin. You lean forward, slow as honey and declare, smoke throated, “Give me all you’ve got, Barnes.”
He smirks and pushes himself passed the barrier and into you.
It leaves you breathless – every time it leaves you breathless. You are completely overwhelmed by him, by how heavy he feels inside of you. You listen to him groan with every slight movement as his cock stretches and fills every part of your cunt. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as he consumes you.
Sweat and Smoke//Bucky Barnes
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