CW: Very inappropriate use of a cane, inappropriate use of James's new metal arm, spanking, messy oral sex, teasing, dirty talk, daddy kink, squirting, choking, discussions of pregnancy and starting a family.
This is a short chapter, and 90% smut. Enjoy!
JAMES
FLORENCE, ITALY
James stares at his new fingers, flexing and extending them every few seconds. The tiny plates in them click softly, and the arm whirs a little when he moves it.
His tank top lays beside him as Stephen takes a look at the still-healing scars on his left shoulder, running a gloved fingertip over the place where metal and flesh meet. He writes something in his little notebook.
"Flex your arm for me."
James bends his arm at the elbow. It takes almost no brain power, it's like his mind just knows how to work this thing. Stephen said something about electrodes in his brain, injected into the back of his skull. Experimental technology, but he'll take it.
"Good," Stephen whispers.
The best part about this isn't the arm, it's the tattoos that are etched in the metal. His wedding band. The flowers for Dahlia. Just like they used to be. He aches to see skin and ink, but this is the way things have to be.
Out of the corner of his eye, she's there. Watching. Always watching. Looking out for him.
It's been two weeks since his surgery, and he's had to lay off of any "strenuous activities" so that he can heal. They decided to make it a game and see how long they could go without fucking. Two weeks is long enough, and if Dahlia bends over in those tight little shorts one more time, he's going to take her from behind. And he won't ask for permission.
He was discharged from the hospital two days ago. Neither of them went back to the villa, instead renting a small house in Florence under an alias. They didn't want Ultron to find them, and James just wants some fucking peace and quiet. And some time to heal.
Stephen takes a step back.
"You've healed up nicely, James. Your leg looks much better."
It was a relief to get that fucking boot off.
"What about the limp?" James asks.
Not a single part of him wants to look weak around Ultron.
Stephen starts to pack up his bag and check his phone.
"You'll need that cane for a while, but I expect you to make a full recovery."
Dahlia bought him a cane— had it made, actually. Black with a removable silver skull on top. Inside is a long blade, just in case he ever finds himself without his knives. But James likes the idea of beating someone into submission. There's so much more power in a strike. He's planning on bashing in Ultron's head until there's nothing left but brain matter and crumbled bone.
"Thank you, Stephen," she whispers. "You have no idea what this means to us."
Stephen smirks, but it never quite touches his eyes. He's always been like this, cold and removed. He's all business, and James has always appreciated that. He can count on one finger the amount of times they've actually had a heart to heart. Twice. Once, just after Steve's death and once after Stephen's divorce. It was brief. Stephen has a hard time with emotions, preferring to mask them with icy glances and snide remarks. It works for them.
He grabs his bag and smiles.
"You're welcome. If you have any problems with that arm, you call me, alright?"
James salutes him and Dahlia walks him to the door, swaying her hips. Her ass is just barely covered by those little purple shorts. His cock stiffens in his sweats and he reaches over, grabbing his cane with his metal hand. His fingers click and whir, and he stands up, only wincing slightly at the pressure on his leg. He has to get used to it. James twirls the cane in his hand and mimes a hard strike.
"Maybe this thing isn't so bad," he murmurs.
From the doorway, Dahlia clears her throat. Her dark hair is a mess of curls and she slides a tongue across her glossy lips. She's beautiful, with rosy cheeks and those warm brown eyes nearly eclipsed by her quickly widening pupils. He can see her nipples pebble beneath her thin tank top. It rides just above her soft belly and her pillow thighs squeeze together.
"I believe you and I have some business to attend to, Mr. Barnes."
The curtains are open, a soft breeze blowing through the living room. He hears Stephen's car peel out of the driveway, along with two quick honks. James twirls the cane again and Dahlia's eyes are only on his metal arm.
"Is that so?" He purrs.
She slowly lowers herself to her knees and slinks toward him like a starved animal on all fours. James's cock is aching to be touched. Buried inside of her. He feels better than he's ever felt in his life, and that could be the morphine, but watching her stare up at him with those big, lust-filled eyes makes him feel like a fucking God.
When she reaches him, she sits back on her haunches, her hands gliding up her waist. Cupping her breasts. She teases her nipples as her lips part.
"I've been dreaming about fucking you every night," she purrs.
He knows. He wakes up with her ass grinding into his cock and it takes every ounce of self-preservation and willpower not to fuck her until she screams.
"Have you?" His voice is soft and low, knowing exactly which octave to hit to make her moan.
He knows her better than he knows himself.
Her fingers slide up her flimsy little tank top and she teases her nipples beneath the fabric.
"I'm so fucking wet." One hand slips into those little shorts that he wants to rip to shreds with his fucking teeth.
James tilts his head, watching as she teases her clit, her head falling back as she moans. She thinks she's in control.
She always does at first.
"Show daddy, peach. I want those fingers glistening."
She whines and tilts her hips forward, thrusting her fingers inside of her cunt. Her head drops and James tucks the cane beneath her chin, using it to tilt her head upward.
"Peach? I said show daddy."
"Or what?" The texture of her voice is primal and he feels something prickle at the back of his neck, and her eyes land on his cane.
James raises a brow.
"You want my cane and my fingers?"
Her hips roll against her fingers as she thrusts them in and out.
"I'm greedy," she whines. "I'm so fucking horny."
All of the blood rushes from his head and straight to his cock. His mouth curls into a smile.
"Show me, and I'll give you what you want."
Slowly, she pulls her fingers out of her shorts and spreads them apart. They glisten like diamonds in the sunlight and James can't help but let out a soft whine. Dahlia's eyes darken and she pushes them past her lips, moaning.
Fuck.
"Face the back of the couch. Put your hands on it." He drags the end of his cane across her cheekbone. "Don't make me ask you twice."
"Yes, sir."
She gets to her feet, and before she can take a step, James stops her with his cane.
"Clothes off."
Dahlia flashes him a coquettish smirk.
"Yes, sir."
"What's my name?"
"Daddy," she moans.
"Good girl, peach."
She turns her back to him, swishing her hips as she pushes her shorts down, bending all the way over and giving him a beautiful glimpse of her soaked cunt. He longs to drop to his knees and drag his tongue from her pussy all the way to her asshole. But that can wait.
She strips off her tank top and tosses it aside before climbing onto the couch, her hands resting on the back just like he asked. She glances over her shoulder.
"Those sweatpants look awfully tight around your cock."
"Don't you worry about me," he purrs, twirling the cane again. "Eyes forward. And you count to three."
Goosebumps form on her skin and James slowly drags the cane across her backside.
"Breathe."
She inhales through her nose and he swings back, striking her ass as hard as he can with his metal arm. Dahlia's back bows, her harsh scream bouncing off of the walls. There's a bright red line across both cheeks and then she starts to laugh. James watches her inner thighs glisten.
"One," she chokes.
"More?"
"More! And you'd better be hitting me with that new arm."
He smirks. Another hard strike. Another scream.
"Two!"
"One more for me. You're doing so good, baby."
She's quivering, fingernails digging into the back of the couch.
He hits her one final time and a choked sob fills the room.
"Th— three!"
"That's my girl." James slides the cane between her thighs, pushing it up so that her clit can grind against it and Dahlia snarls like a beast, rocking her hips as he soothes the welts on her ass with his metal palm. "Good girl, peach. You like fucking daddy's cane?"
She's writhing and squirming against the polished ebony, coating it in her slick.
"Yes!"
He smirks.
"You want it inside you?"
Her body stills for a moment and he can see her eyes reflected in the living room window. And then the ghost of a smirk spreading across her face before she looks back at him, eyes gleaming.
"Inside me?"
"Don't play dumb with me," he snarls. "I've fucked you with every weapon I own. My gun. My knife. This is no different."
She gnaws on her bottom lip and sticks her ass in the air. He can see her cunt pulsing. Glistening.
Begging for it.
James slides the cane away from her clit and pulls off the thick rubber stopper to find a rounded tip.
Perfect.
He pushes it against her entrance and she mewls, voice rough and raspy.
"Daddy, please."
"Eager little slut, aren't we?" James switches hands, gripping the cane with his right while he spits on his left palm and shoves it into his sweats, wrapping it around his cock.
He hasn't even touched himself in the shower with his new hand, and he's been waking up with raging hard-ons every morning. A walk on the treadmill and a cool shower take the edge off, but part of him has been aching to do this, and it feels fucking incredible. Cool metal against scorching skin. James strokes himself as he pushes the cane into Dahlia's pussy. He can feel her squeezing it and moans, his hips rolling with each gentle thrust.
"Deeper," she begs.
He obeys, pushing the cane a little deeper. Dahlia keens, her hips rocking back and forth as she fucks it. He gives her full control to take it as deep as she wants. She knows her body and her limits. James holds the cane, listening to the soft, slick noises her pussy makes while he strokes his cock. It takes a while to get used to the texture of his new fingers, but the ridges are fucking insane. He slides his thumb across the tip of his cock, spreading precum around while Dahlia makes the most feral noises he's ever heard in his life.
"Fuck, I can't wait to get these fingers into your pussy," he whispers.
"I wanna ride them," she whimpers. "Please?"
James is stroking himself so slowly that even this kind of release aches. He's been waiting for this for two fucking weeks.
"God, I'm gonna fill this pussy up. Watch my cum drip."
"Yes!" She gasps. "I need it!"
James slowly pulls the cane out of her pussy and licks the tip clean with his tongue.
"On your back," he growls. "Spread your legs."
She switches positions in the blink of an eye, her back against the couch and legs spread, her perfect little pink cunt on display for him. James leans the cane up next to the couch and lowers himself to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain that shoots up his leg. He glides his hands along her soft skin. The left one can only feel pressure, not texture. It's a shame, really, but it gives him an excuse to use his mouth instead. He presses his lips to her inner thigh, letting his breath fan against her clit. She whimpers and he gazes up at her.
"Two weeks is too fucking long to go without tasting how sweet you are, peach."
Her cheeks are flaming red, the blush spreading all the way down her neck and creeping up into her earlobes. She chews desperately on her lip, goosebumps lingering on her skin. Electricity crackles in the air between them and she smiles.
"Please," she begs. "I need you. I've been so fucking desperate."
"Have you touched yourself?"
She shakes her head and the earnestness in her eyes tells him that she's been taking this little game just as seriously as he has.
"Good girl. Wouldn't want to deny you, would I?"
"No, daddy."
When he gets a glimpse of her pulsing clit, his mouth waters and he gathers a wad of saliva in his mouth, spitting it onto her pussy. Dahlia growls and James glides his tongue across pulsing bud, moaning at the taste of her. Sharp. Tangy. And a little sweet. His eyes roll back, his mouth getting sloppy as he alternates between sucking on her clit and letting his tongue lash against it like a whip. Dahlia is in the throes of bliss, fucking his face with complete abandon. Drool and slick drip down his chin and neck, and he aches to swallow every drop.
Slowly, he slides one finger into her pussy, groaning at the resistance he meets. He stares up at her, watching her eyes widen.
"Tu ești totul pentru mine."
You're everything to me.
James adds another finger, and Dahlia melts, her eyes rolling back as he thrusts in and out.
"Yes!" She cries. "Fuck!"
His tongue pushes against her clit, swirling and devouring her. Tasting everything he can get. Her arousal, the metal on his fingers. Her sweetness. His fingers curl and she screams, bucking her hips hard against his face. He takes it all in stride. Normally, he would pin her down and hold her there while he had his way with her, but she's so much fun when she's feisty like this.
"Can't wait to get my cock in you," he groans.
She lets out a series of incoherent, babbling moans; getting slicker by the second. He pushes up against her G-spot and smiles when she gazes up at the ceiling with her mouth agape.
"Ride daddy's fingers, peach. Show me what it looks like when you see God."
She's practically fucking thrashing against the couch, fucking his fingers so hard he looks like she might break. Desperate and ragged moans fill the room and she tugs on her nipples, twisting them hard. He wants to make her come. He flicks her clit with the tip of his tongue as fast as he can, with as much pressure as he can give her. Dahlia screams, and as he wraps his lips around her clit, she squirts right into his mouth. His cock throbs and his balls tighten. He could come right now and he barely had to touch himself.
James swallows it all, fucking her right through her climax with two fingers. He doesn't give her time to come down from her high before he pulls them out and gets to his feet, stripping off his sweats, his cock gently slapping against his abs. Dahlia flops onto her side and James grabs her legs, shifting her so that she's lengthwise on the couch. He climbs on top of her and wraps his metal fingers around her throat, slamming into her with one rough thrust. Dahlia howls and James pounds his cock into her, chasing his own pleasure.
"I don't fucking care if you come again," he snarls. "This pussy's mine. Mine to use, mine to fill, mine to lick whenever I fucking want."
She's beaming at him, eyes shimmering with malice and he fucks her harder, the leather squeaking beneath their naked bodies. Sweat gathers on his hairline and his smile grows wider as tears stream down her temples. Her pussy squeezes him so tight and a knot forms in his belly. Tighter and tighter. His eyelids flutter as he tightens his grip around her throat.
"If I want to bend you over a table and fuck you, I will."
He's a beast. All of this tension, all of this pain, it's all coming out now. He had to be gentle in the hospital. For himself. And so that he didn't get them both fucking arrested. But this? This is what he's been craving for weeks. Her tight, soaked little cunt. Starving for him.
"James!"
Her eyes threaten to close and he winds up and slaps her hard across the face.
"You keep those eyes on me, my little curvă. Watch daddy fuck you until you break."
She's gasping for air, a deep red welt on her cheek. He's fucking her so hard he's driving her body deeper into the couch with each thrust. And she takes every single inch of him. She was made for this. For him. His cock.
Fire spreads through his veins. Faster. Harder. More. He hammers her G-spot, using her like a toy.
His incoming climax is white hot, brewing in his belly like a storm. James's mouth drops open and he tips his head back, letting out a deep roar as his balls tighten and he fucking explodes, filling her pussy up. Dahlia screams and James's fingers slip between their bodies, rubbing her clit with vigor until she squirts again.
"Yes!" She wails. "Fuck yes!"
"Take it all, baby. Every drop," he snarls as he trembles like a leaf.
His abs twitch, muscles threaten to collapse, and his leg fucking burns, but he keeps fucking her, right into a second climax. It hits him like a freight train and this time, his body stills as his cock flexes. James can feel his cum being pushed out of her as he languidly pumps his hips and Dahlia melts into the cushions.
His heart is pounding, his head spins, and he can barely hear her desperate whimpers over the blood roaring in his head. He slumps forward, turning her to face him and presses a gentle kiss to her lips. Her body writhes against his and she lets out tiny mewls of pleasure.
"That's my girl," he purrs. "My beautiful Queen."
"I want to have babies with you," she breathes.
He blinks.
"What?"
"When this is over, and you've sold the company." Dahlia swallows hard. "I want a family. With you."
He pulls back, brows pinching together.
"A family?"
"That's what I said." She bites her lip. "I see the way you look at Aster and Cleo. How good you are with them. And I've been thinking about how good you would be with our babies."
"We said—"
"I know what we said," she replies. "But if you're walking away from this life, then I'm ready to start a new one with you. I want what Thor and Wanda have. The sleepless nights, the screaming... I even want the terrible twos."
She laughs and more tears trickle down her temples. His throat clenches and he sniffles.
"You said it was my decision," she whispers. "I'm deciding."
"Always, Dahlia."
She giggles.
"You called me Dahlia."
"Well, this is a serious discussion."
She reaches up and strokes his cheek.
"Always so serious," she whispers.
He smirks.
"Not always."
"We'll make it out of this, right?"
For the first time since the hospital, he sees real fear in her eyes. They still don't know who's behind all of this— if it's Ultron or someone more sinister. Becca has gotten no hits and no fucking leads. The security camera footage has gotten her nowhere.
All they have is Dahlia's plan, so they're sticking to it.
"We will, peach. You have my word."
From the floor, James's phone rings. Ultron's name pops up on the screen and they both groan.
"Speak of the Devil..." He pulls out of her and grabs his phone, settling back onto the couch as Dahlia curls up against him.
He presses the green button.
"Ultron."
"James... where is Yelena Belova?"
James smiles. She and Kate are safe, and planning on making a surprise appearance. Yelena has a score to settle. They're going to rip Ultron apart, and the merger will secure Thor as part owner in LA and New York. He has it all planned out to a fucking tee.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"She's dangerous, James. She killed her own father, and my position as King of New York is only secured if I marry her."
"Really," James purrs.
"I figure we can be more honest with each other now. I've been itching to get my hands into the Belova empire for a while now. All of that power, those weapons, that money... I'll take her out eventually, but the paperwork requires us to be married."
"Can't you just fake it?"
"She's easier to control if her wealth is tied up in mine. So are the Widows. I need to meet with you. I understand she's on your Board of Directors. I'd like to change that. Are you back in the U.S.?"
"No. Still at the hospital."
"That's funny," Ultron murmurs. "Because your room was empty this morning."
James's heart seizes.
"How do you know that?"
"A little birdie told me."
"Is the same birdie who dropped those flowers off for me?"
Ultron chuckles.
"I already told your wife that I have no idea about any of that."
Dahlia's lip curls into a snarl. She's listening. She's always listening. James draws in a breath. He's ready to do this.
"We'll be back in Los Angeles next week, just before the party. Could we meet then?"
Silence on the other line.
"That works for me. Your office?"
"Absolutely."
"Looking forward to it."
James's eyes land on his cane and his mouth curls into a smile. He can't wait to see Ultron's blood splattered on the floor.
"As am I."
The line beeps and goes dead. James tosses his phone aside as Dahlia stares up at him.
"I'm tired of him," she growls.
He runs his fingers through her hair.
"I am, too, peach." He sighs. "He'll be a corpse soon enough."