ostavil | open post

"He is the prettiest boy," Bucky agrees, laughing a little. "He's gonna be happy to have someone to play with all the time. I'm gone so much that he never sees me and now he's gonna have me and a pretty girl. He's gonna be beside himself."

At least Natalia likes dogs and won't be pissed when Colt meanders his way back into the house. Like it or not, dogs smell like dogs, and it just comes with the territory. She'd been all about Colt when he was a puppy - it's just when the puppy became a dog that she started taking issues.

"You gotta stay on property but you can come out. I've got some land and there's horses out in the back. If you like to ride, they're both good, and they need the exercise. I'm not going back into the office for a while, not until I'm sure you're relatively safe, but when I do you're not going to be left without something to entertain you."

So. Her beautiful Jean-Marc had retired and now lived...on a farm. She straightened from petting the dog to gaze around, inexperienced eye taking in the natural beauty of the landscape. She'd never really been out of the city before; this promised to be an experience, all the way around.

"Horses and dogs," she mused, spying the barn out behind the house. "I would have never guessed, Jean-Marc." And arched a sly eyebrow his way. But followed along when he headed inside, unlocking the door and ushering her into the house.

Nicely furnished, dark woods and tasteful furniture throughout, although she figured his ex-wife had taken her share when she'd moved out. Glimpses through doorways revealed a bright kitchen, dining room, and den, with a long hallway leading further in, presumably to the bedrooms and baths.

"Nice," she remarked, running a hand along the back of the dark leather couch. "A little too neat, but then you've always been a clean freak, da?" For some reason, the air was getting a little too close in here; Natalia felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck begin to prickle.

"Your Jean-Marc decided he didn't want to change names like he changes suits anymore," Bucky says. It's not harsh, though. It's hard to be harsh when Natalia is in his space and touching his things. There's tension in his belly, low, and he knows what kind of tension it is because it's always there when he's around her. It's why they've never killed one another, why they'd always fallen into bed instead of eliminating the threat each posed. They never helped each other, no, but there were chances to eliminate a rival that they didn't take.

"My Alexia is a redhead, your Jean-Marc moved to the country - things change, I guess." He leans against the wall right where the hallway begins, just watching her in his space. It's a good feeling, seeing this woman in his house.

"My bedroom is all the way in the back at the end of the hall. You have to go through it to get to the master bath. Should be towels in there and the top drawer of my chest of drawers has the kind of shirts you like. I still wear them."

She made a soft sound of agreement, still wandering slowly around the living room, letting her fingertips trail over things here and there. He mentioned Alexia, and she had to smile, though it was a bit rueful. "Alexia...I'd almost forgotten her." She'd been so many other people...just as he had been. Never once had they really been themselves, until now. And she had no idea what was going to happen, now that they were.

Her peregrinations brought her back around again, and Natalia paused just out of immediate reach; out of habit, not out of any sort of trepidation. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, the very personification of dangerous nonchalance, and she knew far better than to think him at ease, or casual. No, he felt it, just as she did.

That low, thrumming pull that had always been present between them, no matter the circumstance. The tidal yearning which had seen them crashing together not out of violence, but out of passion, desire. And even after five long, almost unbearable years, it was still here. God.

"...some things don't change," Natalia heard herself murmur, eyes never leaving his. "...do they, James?" She dimly heard him offer a bath and other necessities, but she was more or less rooted to the floor in that specific spot; her feet simply wouldn't listen when she urged them to move.

"They don't," Bucky says softly. It's a bad idea. It's the worst idea in a long list of terrible ideas he could come up with and even if she's not formally in WITSEC and he's not really guarding her for those reasons, it's illegal to fuck his witness. Still, she's gorgeous and strung up tight just like he is and he wants.

"I want you."

He just comes out and says it because there's no point in denying it or trying to hide it. It's up to her to say yes or no but he knows she can read it off him; a stoned bartender at Applebee's could tell he wanted her. Hope can only go part of the way, though, and if she doesn't want it, that's where it ends.

No other man alive had the power to affect her like he did. From the moment they'd clashed together in Budapest, ages ago now, she'd been drawn to him, like a magnet to a lodestone. Moth to a flame. And he to her. Ironic, wasn't it, and of course Fate was an absolute bitch, especially in their case.

Then James threw that gauntlet down right at her feet; blunt, direct, and absolute. I want you. And God in heaven, but she wanted him right back. Ached for him, in point of fact. Her grip tightened on the back of the couch, if only to keep her from bolting right out of the door and vanishing - suicide if it had ever existed.

Her breath quickened, gaze sharpened, and lips parted; Natalia fancied she could even see that invisible wire between them, snapped tight and quivering. Did he yearn for her as she did for him? Did he crave her touch, her taste, her scent, every hour of the day and all through the night? Seeing him in front of her now, all but vibrating with the coiled tension beneath that dusky skin, Natalia thought that he might.

She licked her lips. Slow, deliberate.

And took a soft but deep breath. Lifted her chin. Met those beautiful Nordic eyes. Gave him her answer. The answer which would never change, never change.

"I'm yours."

Fuck.

He knew what the answer would be before he issued the challenge but he hadn't expected such a quick response. He's only had her back in his life for a few hours and the fire between them is just as catching as it's always been. All he wants is her. All he's ever wanted is her. It had never been enough in back alleys and dirty flats. It'd never been enough in tight spaces when they should have been killing one another.

There's a tic in his jaw when he's wired up tight and goddamn is he tight right now. He unhooks his holster and drops it to the floor, the Sig loud and heavy, and he yanks at his shirt buttons without much care as to where they go.

"Come back with me," he says, scooping the Sig off the floor to bring it back with him. His goddamn luck, he'd get murdered by his own weapon while he was fucking Natalia.

She was more than willing to follow anywhere he led. When Bucky straightened with his gun in hand, she'd already crossed the four steps between them and was eagerly reaching upwards, winding her arms around his neck to immediately pull his mouth down to hers. Natalia kissed him hard, almost desperate, lips scraping over teeth and wanton little whimpers escaping from her mouth to his.

This was insanity, but it was theirs, and she wanted it. Wanted him. Now, and forever. They'd burned the other into themselves, and that fire ached to be stoked, to blaze into an inferno, more than willing to engulf them both. She clutched his head, holding him against her, and was absolutely still agile enough to use his broad shoulders for leverage to spring upwards, wrapping strong legs around his waist.

"...da," she breathed against his lips, coiling her tongue with his before kissing him again. And again. And again. As if she were dying of thirst and only the taste of his mouth could save her. "--yes...please..."

Bucky barely has time to slide the harness back over his left arm before Natalia is jumping him, legs wrapping around his waist like she's some kind of gymnast. He's seen what she can do - she is a gymnast, not some facsimile of it.

The kiss is rough and desperate. He hasn't seen her in five years and hasn't been with a woman in a year and a half. She's been indelible on his soul since he met her and no one could hold a candle to Natalia after. No one could before. He blindly walks them down the hall to his bedroom and kisses her deep before dropping her on the bed to get his clothes off. Buttons fly from his shirt, he yanks his tank top so hard he stretches the neck of it. The Sig goes to the floor with the Glock and when he's working on his pants, he starts unstrapping knives. It seems like it takes forever to get naked, to drop off the trappings of the job, but when he does he just looks at her for a moment.

"Nobody's ever gotten me like you."

She landed flat of her back sideways across his bed, somewhere in the house, but Natalia didn't stay there for long. Even before Bucky straightened to work on ripping away his clothing - and weaponry; she didn't miss the hardware that clattered to the floor as the layers peeled away - she was surging up herself, pulling the thin t-shirt over her head and flinging it aside.

The jeans she'd been given were too big, and the belt they'd offered wasn't much better, but at least all she had to do was unbuckle the latter to skin out of them, leaving her in nothing more than off-white cotton around her hips, a few new scars and marks marring pale, pale skin. A high flush stained her throat, feathering down over the tops of full breasts, heaving slightly with her panted breaths.

She'd just started to reach for him when James paused, gazing at her like a lion might a gazelle, and Natalia felt her skin slowly begin to heat again, her lips parting on a soft breath with his blunt admission.

"No?" She had to smile, mouth tilting in her familiar little grin. Reaching for him again, the redhead stroked her hands over Bucky's hard chest, nearly whining at the feel of him once again. "...nobody's ever had me, James, but you."

No fucking way. It's something he can't wrap his head around right now, the idea that Natalia's never been with anyone but him when they've been all over the world and been every person under the sun. It just turns him on more to think she's only ever been under him, on top of him, screaming for him and he yanks her panties down in a smooth movement.

"Then I've got five years to make up for," he rumbles, sucking a dark mark on her neck while working two fingers between her legs. He's too turned on to waste time and he needs her now. He can go play later. "Get facedown on that bed so I can help you remember what it feels like to get fucked."

He knows it wont be the first time, no matter how imprudent it is, so they might as well accept it now.

Natalia let him yank the useless underwear down and off, falling back across the bed as they vanished down her legs. Then he was on her, sinful mouth attaching to her neck and sucking hard, making her back arch and her thighs part of their own accord, more than ready to welcome him back between them, where he belonged.

She hissed to his directive, however, the salacious recollection of their animalistic passion burning behind her eyes, but she shook her head, impudent, and dug her fingernails into the thick muscles in his back as she negated.

"Nyet," she told him, heated, grazing her teeth along the edge of his hard jaw. "Later. Right now, I want you this way, so I can see you while you fuck me, James."

A deceptively strong leg wound around his hip, curving sinuously, the other rolling her lower body upwards to tease him, inviting. Those fingernails slowly raked their way up the length of his back to tangle in his shaggy hair, forcing his lips to hers so she could lick her way into his mouth.

"Nyet? You've never said nyet to me before," Bucky teases. Still, he's of the same mind and he pushes her back against the bed, following so he can cover her and cage her in with his body. She's so small beneath him, so deceptively fragile, but he knows she can be deadly at a moment's notice.

It's part of the thrill, honestly.

He pushes his hips against her, teasing her, and works his mouth over her jaw and up to her earlobe to nip and suck for a moment. "How badly do you want me, Natalia? Do you like hearing that? Hearing Natalia? Knowing that I know your real name and who you are under all the layers?"

"First time for everything," she sassed right back, smirk a little wicked and voice gone husky. Pulling at him as he loomed over her, Natalia softly whined to his damnable teasing, tossing her head to scatter unkempt red curls across the rumpled bedspread. James' voice at her ear drilled right down to her loins, making her stomach clench and her hips buck.

"--you know how bad, you bastard," she managed to growl back at him, strong fingers tugging sharply at a handful of dark hair. But the sound of her own name in his Brooklyn-laced voice was its own powerful aphrodisiac, making her writhe even as she tried to press closer, to entice him exactly where she wanted him.

"Please..." It was a mewled plea, accompanied by a small hand snaking between them to grip and fondle his cock, a devilish tease. "I'm yours," she breathed beneath his ear, licking salt from his skin. "Then, now, and always, James...moya zvedza..."

Bucky pushes into her with a smooth stroke, hitting deep, and just stays there for a moment. It's as much a tease for him as he's sure it is for her but he wants to savor it a little in case it's a dream or it never happens again. He kisses Natalia's forehead, the tip of her nose, her full lips.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you? What you've always done to me? I'd have defected if you'd asked," he says, withdrawing before pushing in even harder than before. Maybe there'd be time for slow and sweet some other day but right now, it's going to be a clash of feelings and emotions boiling over.

"I'd have gone HYDRA for you. I'd have done anything to have you. Had to get out after that round in my shoulder, though, and it killed me every damn day."

Natalia hissed a sharp breath, feeling him slide inside, streettcchhiing her completely full and then some. He wasn't small, and she was, for intents and purposes, petite. But God, wasn't it the best feeling she'd ever, ever felt? Her fingernails dug into his back, strong legs coiled around his thick hips, and she moaned, returning his kisses with almost lazy grace.

But he couldn't tell her that. Couldn't insist what she meant to him, lest their weakness get them both killed. Or worse. She clenched around him when he shoved back into her, seemingly determined to fuck all of their frustrations right out and away. "Nyet," she managed to pant, shaking her head.

"No--James," Natalia insisted, winding around him like a noose. "You were--out. You--were safe." Although dying a little more each and every day, just as she had been. Her head dug into the bedspread beneath her, baring her pale throat, lashes fluttering closed as he worked in her. "You have--me now, malyutka...take--me...God, please-!"

Men can let things slip when they're fucking someone, same as women, and Bucky knows better than to do that right now. He fucking knows better but here he is, pouring his heart out because he's right where he's wanted to be for five years. He crushes his mouth against Natalia's, not wanting to expose himself any longer, and slides his hands under her thighs to hike her up so he can fuck her harder than before.

Maybe if he just lets his emotions out on the pillows instead of telling them, he won't expose himself and betray all his weaknesses. He wants to believe Natalia is good - why else would she invoke his protection, use her real name, tell her that he's her only - but he has to keep himself safe, too.

Women can be venomous, he knows that well. He doesn't think Natalia is looking to sting him but he knows that she's a spy same as he. You never shed the dissembling, the layers lies that bury the truth, the pretending to be any and everything that's anathema to what you truly are. Does he even know what he is anymore? Does it matter? Not much right now, not when he's deep in her and he can't form words.

It seemed coherence had finally evaporated altogether, and that was fine with Natalia, because James had his hands beneath her and had arched her just right to slam in and out of her with all the force of a piston; he'd never been so rough with her, prior to this. But it was a relished ache, the stretch of her muscles and the pressure of his hands; she craved it.

She didn't want to let him out of her grasp, and clutched tight to keep him right where he was: covering her, buried between her spread thighs, and thrusting like a demon possessed. She'd never experienced love, but she definitely knew lust, and there was no denying that that was absolutely what this was. Hunger. Longing. Ache. She knew all of them, very, very well, indeed.

Truly, she hadn't expected this when she'd invoked his name and protection. Hoped, yes, but expected, no. Because they really the same people anymore; they were real now, and reality shed a completely different light on everything. But the flame between them didn't seem to care about paltry identities; the heart knew what it wanted, and hers insisted that this was exactly it.

So she held him close, wrapped around him like a knot, and held on as he just fucked her wild, breathing her willing encouragement directly into his ear, huskily begging for more.

It is different with real names. Bucky keeps going until he's spent, coming white hot and pressing into her hard one last time before slumping against her and laying his head in the crook of her shoulder and neck. He's sweaty and exhausted and all the things that come with sex but it doesn't feel like sex. It feels more like magnets pulling together again, a key fitting in a lock. He hadn't realized a part of him was missing until she was gone.

He kisses her skin, tasting the salt, and he cages her in with his arms to keep her under him. She hasn't come yet (or enough, anyway) so he's going to deal with that in a moment. He just needs the closeness right now.

"I missed you," he murmurs. "I'll take care of you in a minute but I missed you so much."

She wasn't too surprised when she suddenly felt James tense, stiffen, then erupt inside her like an active volcano; it was somewhat amazing that he'd managed to last this long, if she was any judge. But Natalia held him through it, digging her fingernails into his back like talons, and her thighs squeezed tight, a dangerous weapon all on their own.

She never minded him collapsing on her afterwards, either. His weight was a welcome shield against the rest of the miserable world, hiding her safe from any and all machinations waiting to ruin even more of their lives. Holding him close, Natalia ran gentle hands through his sweaty hair, still shivering with the aftershocks of his pleasure, and giving soft little whimpers each time he shifted inside of her, a welcome tease.

"I know," she whispered back, turning her head to press her lips to his temple. "...I missed you, too." The redhead bit her lip on a stifled sob. "--so much, James. God, so much."

"Sorry I just...I don't usually come that fast, it's just been so long since I've been with you."

It's been a while since he's been with a woman period but Natalia is different than any woman he's ever been with. She's beautiful, talented, deadly, burns hotter than anyone - there's no one for him but her. There's no one that makes him feel this way. He doesn't know what it means or if they should even be together (He's supposed to be protecting her for God's sake, not fucking her) but he knows he won't be able to resist her again.

He should be protecting her and not doing dangerous shit like this. He doesn't pull away, though, and nuzzles a little more at her neck and kisses a line up behind her ear.

"Gonna make you come so many times for me," he says lowly. "You'll be screaming."

The sheepishness in his tone tickled her mirth and Natalia laughed softly, still petting and stroking. "I know," she said again, shifting a little beneath him. "It's all right." She'd been celibate herself for five agonizing years, and from the moment he'd walked into that conference room four hours ago, she'd been dying to have him back between her legs again. It'd hurt, seeing him again after so long apart, but she knew she was where she belonged now, no matter what the future held.

He was hers. She was his. That had been true since the moment they'd met, over a decade ago. He'd been the only man to arrest her attention, to meet her on her own ground and not be afraid, to burn just as hot as she in their delicate, devilish dance of death. This was inevitable, really.

She shivered when those smooth, warm lips began sliding up her throat, coming to purr just beneath her ear, and it was all she could do to swallow a whorish moan, already rubbing her body beneath his, wanting to just cover her skin in his scent. Like a feline in heat.

"...do you promise?" she asked archly, gliding a smooth bare thigh up along his ribcage, clever toes trailing over the back of one muscled thigh. "--I want to scream for you, malyshka...you know that I do..."

"Don't trust me, little spy? I'll show you screaming. I'll make you scream until your lungs give out and then when you get your voice back you'll beg me for more."

He nips at her earlobe with his teeth before sliding off her and off the end of the bed. He hauls her down to the edge of it and spreads her thighs wide before tipping his head down and sucking a dark mark against her left thigh, teeth marking territory. It'd been too dangerous to do this before - at least to this extent - because they'd had covers to maintain. Not any longer.

"You know how good you smell, marked up like mine?" She's still a mess but he doesn't care and drags two fingers against skin slick from both of them. He keeps rubbing against her while he speaks. "Never fucked you without a condom before, you know. Wanted to. Needed to now."

She'd always trusted him. Unwisely, perhaps, but it wasn't something she could just turn off because it wasn't the smartest thing. The heart wanted what it wanted, after all. But she could never just come right out and tell him that she did, either. Protocol still held in that regard, at least.

Nevertheless, Natalia had little doubt that he'd leave her used and aching by the time they were both spent, and she couldn't help a deep shiver of sheer anticipation when James slid away and hauled her down to the very edge of his large bed. She didn't protest; she simply went where he wanted, gazing down at him with green eyes banked with a thick layer of lust.

Her hips bucked when his teeth scraped her tender inner thigh, but they parted further for him, offering her body for his pleasure. The salacious touch of his fingers had her back arching, and the filth from his mouth shortened her breath, had her head tossing lightly.

"D-Doesn't matter," she managed to pant softly. "D-Don't need o-one." She was a Black Widow; conception had never been a problem she had to worry about.

"Mmmhmm," Bucky says, rolling his thumb over her clit before sliding his fingers into her. Two for now, lazily moving in and out while he talks. He'd thought about going down on her but that means he can't talk and he likes being filthy with her. He likes it when she can't respond anymore.

"Tell me about what you want right now, pretty spider," He says, keeping his fingers slow and teasing, nothing really satisfying yet. He'll give her what she needs eventually, yes, but he wants to play right now and he's going to play.

"I'll give you what you want but only if you ask me for it. I've never had Natalia ask me for something, only Alexia or Illyana or Sasha. I want you to ask."

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