ostavil | open post

The idea that he's been the only one over all these years is thrilling to him in a way he can't really describe. It makes him push into her more desperately, deeper, and determined than he might have before. If he's the only man she's ever had, she deserves to have him.

"I'm gonna fuck you, then," Bucky pants at her ear. "And push into you over and over until you can't tell where I end and you begin. I'm gonna make you see stars and scream before I let you come this time."

He means to make good on his threat, too, having already gotten the first orgasm behind him.

Oh my God, she hoped so. Natalia turned her head to bite at his own earlobe, even as he panted his filth beneath hers. Her fingernails dug into James's back, leaving harsh red wells in his thick skin. But she tightened around him like a noose, barely managing to let him have enough leeway to thrust into her over and over, the mattress beneath them protesting such rough abuse.

But the redhead splayed across it begged for more, calling for her beautiful lover in a score of languages, each one more slurred than the last as he drove into her harder and faster. She dimly realized she was being jolted further across the bed with every primal slam of his hips into hers, but she couldn't care.

Because he was magnificent in her arms; powerful, bestial, and absolutely all hers, and, as promised, the universe suddenly exploded behind her eyes as she stiffened then shrieked, clamping down around his thrusting cock like a white-hot vise, clawing her marks into his shoulders and down his back.

He'd always been so careful before about marks, making sure he took his time getting home so they'd be healed up before Dot ever saw them. He didn't know if she suspected he had someone else or not but he didn't think it was good to just blatantly show it. He doesn't fucking care now, though, and when Natalia drags her nails down his back as she comes, it stirs something in him he didn't know was there.

Bucky pushes her harder, punishing the years between them with his body, and while she's falling apart around him he's using her hard. He knows he'll be tender later as that's his nature but goddamn he'd missed her and he wants it like this right now.

He bites at the join of her neck and shoulder as he comes, hips and thighs pinning her brutally to the bed, and he licks a slow line up to her ear in the aftermath, whispering:

"YA zhivu tol'ko dlya tebya, pauchok." I only live for you, little spider.

The sensory overload for Natalia was just too damned much. All of it, coupled with her James's hot voice beneath her ear, growling his fevered promise, sent her reeling all over again, and she stiffened still further in his arms, becoming dangerously lightheaded as his explosive climax triggered yet another in her.

She couldn't see, she couldn't even breathe; all she could do was hold on as she quaked, finally gaining enough coherence to inhale a sharp, deep breath, near to sobbing out her explosive pleasure. This was insanity - but hadn't it always lurked right beneath their surface? Passion had never been a problem, not between them, and the smoldering volcano had always been simmering right beneath each of their contrived identities.

It was several breathless minutes before she finally had enough air and coherence to speak, and her words came out as a soft, low whisper. "YA lyublyu tebya, Dzheyms. U menya vsegda yest'." I love you, James. I always have.

Bucky lays on her after he comes, surprised at her second orgasm, and buries his face in her neck. She tastes so good to him and feels like heaven; how is he supposed to do his job when Natalia is around him and he's breathing her in all the goddamn time? How is he supposed to function and write reports like she's some other witness?

He rolls his body against her, still half hard inside her. "Nobody ever feels...nothing ever feels as good as you. Nobody else will ever have a chance. Only you forever now. You're finally mine to keep."

They're words he used to say as nonsense but now he can mean them for true. He's always wanted to say them to her, even before he divorced.

She loved being trapped beneath him like this. With him still half-hard inside of her, tantalizing and teasing. Too many times had they had to pull apart and separate, become other people again, and disappear, and she'd given him another piece of her heart every time. This was the last piece she had left to give, and it was his.

It'd always been his.

Hearing his own breathless admission, clutching him tight when he shifted against her, making her moan in sheer satisfied bliss, Natalia smiled without opening her eyes. "...I like the sound of that," she purred in response. Gentle fingers stroked through Bucky's damp hair, and she opened her eyes to gaze up at him, replete and soft.

Although an eyebrow did arch and she queried with more than a touch of her usual dry humor, "Isn't it illegal for a United States Marshal to fuck his witness?"

"Can you not mention that right now?" Bucky says, utterly exasperated. It's good-natured, though, and he laughs a little before kissing a line up her neck to her jaw. He's not moving from her until he absolutely has to; he has time to make up for right now and he wants his time.

"I'm not thinking about you as a goddamn witness," he murmurs. "You're mine. It's different and you know it. You plannin' on reporting me?"

It is illegal, technically, but it'd been illegal all those times he'd did it as a CIA agent too but he'd done it anyway. He'd wanted her that much. He'd risk espionage charges for her - what were domestic charges compared to that?

Hearing his disgruntled mutter, Natalia had to laugh right out loud. She loved riling him up any way that she could; it was her teasing nature that had initiated their crazy love affair in the first place. But the words that followed were a little more serious, and she shook her head, sliding her hands through his hair to bring him down to her.

Natalia kissed him, slow and deep, licking her way into his mouth and relishing his much-missed taste on her tongue. "Of course I won't," she finally managed to answer, giving one cheek of his ass a little slap. Then her eyes twinkled again. "But I have to give you shit about it, just because."

Then she craned her neck to glance around his bedroom, bemused. "--although I do have to give you props for going above and beyond the call of duty, Marshal Barnes." She considered sticking out her tongue at him, childish, but refrained, barely. Settling for chewing mischievously at her lower lip instead.

"Yeah? I'll give you duty," he says, pushing into her hard one last time before rolling away. He was a sticky mess but he didn't give a fuck, just wanted to lay there with his Natalia until he convinced himself it wasn't a dream. He'd laid in this bed with his ex wife and thought of Natalia; he wants the chance to lay in this bed with Natalia.

"You made me a mess, you know. You always make me a mess," he murmurs. "I can't think when you're around. All I think about is you, Natalia. Only you."

Knowing her name now, he wants to use it as much as he can. He wants to shout it from the rooftops. He wants to write it with his in notebooks like some goddamned lovesick teenager. He wants everything and he doesn't know if he can have it even if it's close.

"Did you ever pretend I called you Natalia? Because I didn't know your name?"

Natalia sniggered, but her breath caught with the retributive thrust of his hips, and she pouted a little when he pulled away, mourning the loss of her warm blanket of muscle. But yes, they were both a mess, that wasn't an exaggeration.

"Me, too," she admitted, curling on one side to scoot closer to his coveted warmth. She felt filthy, used, and thoroughly debauched, but wasn't it the best feeling she'd ever, ever felt? She thought that it was.

But then he asked her that, and she ducked her head against his chest, not wanting him to see the flood of heat that colored her cheeks a dull scarlet. Because, "...da." A beat. "...all the time." The slim arms around his waist tightened, and she curled closer. "It used to rip me apart inside, that you thought I was someone else."

Someone he might like better, at that.

"I was never Jean-Marc. Or Vassily. Or any of the others. When I was in your bed, I was James," Bucky admits softly. "Even if I couldn't tell you my name until the very end, I was never anything but James with you even if I couldn't tell you that name. I was always just myself. I didn't act when I was with you. Not even once."

Not even the first time. There had been no strategic advantage in seducing her. There had been no reason to get close to her or try to have her confess anything to him. The only reason he'd ever been with Natalia had been personal from the very beginning and he wants her to know that now.

"I was always James even if you didn't know who James was just yet. I'm only James with you. But, if you like it when I speak French, I guess I can pull out a little of Jean-Marc."

Even though it was all she'd ever wanted to hear, it was still hard to hear it. Because hearing it reminded her of all the time they'd lost between them, and the entirely different worlds they'd come from. Natalia burrowed her head beneath James's chin, holding him tight as if he might at any moment disappear from her arms.

His following quip had her smirking, however, and she tipped her head back enough to smirk up at him. "Gotta give you props, gorgeous, your French is absolutely flawless. I really thought you were a Frog that first time, until you dropped the accent after you shoved me up against that brick wall behind that ratty little store."

"Je t'aime, ma chatounette," he whispers, using the French she likes so much on her. If she's going to say he sounded like a native the first time around, he'll show her why he sounds that good. French had been the easiest to learn in New York; it'd been nothing to go up across the border to Montreal and speak with native speakers there. Jean-Marc had been Quebecois after all, not Parisian.

"I'll give you French lessons any time you want, kitten. Just say the word. I'm good with my tongue. It comes along with the whole spy thing. You're pretty good with yours, too, so it's not like I'm doing all the work."

It's terrible flirting but he likes it anyway. He rubs the back of her neck with long fingers. "What'd you think about the real accent? The first time?"

Natalia purred in response, nuzzling against his cheek and his lips, giving soft kisses now that passion had been, for the moment, somewhat slaked. "I don't need French lessons, Jean-Marc," she told him with a sly smirk. "I can speak French almost as well as you can." Granted, hers came with a tinge of Northeastern Europe, but when she concentrated, it took a dedicated linguist to pick up on it.

She laughed to his admittedly horrible flirting, running her fingernails lightly down Bucky's ribcage. "You're magnifique with your tongue, mon amour, I have no complaints. But hearing you talk like a Yank just then sort of...threw me." She colored lightly, but shrugged and added, "Although I was more concerned with your tongue in my mouth and your hands yanking at my panties right about then to really give it too much thought."

Natalia grinned, easing her fingers between those thick, hard thighs. "But the inner city drawl is so very hot, James...God, it really is.."

Bucky thinks it through for a second when she describes how the first time went and he remembers something she'd said earlier. He'd been her only. That meant...oh God. No. He couldn't have done that, could he?

"You said I was the only one? Your first time was in an alley with me flipping your skirt up and yanking your panties down? Jesus Christ. I'm sorry, Natalia. Really. You're worth a hell of a lot more than that. You gonna forgive me for doing that to you?"

Her fingers are between his thighs and he gets a little distracted. "I wouldn't have done it that way if I knew. You know that, right?"

Hearing the sudden panic in his voice, Natalia paused in her teasing, pulling her hand away and looking up at him with a worried frown. "Um...da?" She gave a small shrug, sliding her arms back around him again. "It's no big deal, James. It was my choice to even let you, in the first place," she told him, wrinkling her nose a little playfully.

"But now I'm curious." Slim fingers drifted down his belly again, teasing and touching. "How would you have done it, as you say? If you'd known, back then?"

"It would have been soft," James says, licking his lower lip and sighing when she drops her fingers lower. It's one of the places on his body that's the most sensitive but he thinks she probably knows that; they've been together enough times that she knows his body in and out.

"It would have been sweet. I would have taken my time with you and make sure you felt loved."

"...soft and sweet," she mused, tracing small patterns beneat his navel, slowly winding her way further south. "That doesn't really sound like you, James." He'd never really been gentle with her; their passions roared far too high for that. And the added spice of danger and death only made them more frantic for each other.

"We've never been able to take our time," she added, dark eyes watching the stroke of his tongue over his lip, hungry for it herself. "...have we?" Unable to resist any longer, Natalia eased upwards and mirrored his movement, tip of her tongue gliding over Bucky's lower lip before slipping smoothly into his mouth.

Bucky barely manages a "No," before she's kissing him and he rolls her under him, caging her in with his arms. He's never had time with her and now they have nothing but time. For now, they have to hide, and he imagines a lot of their time is going to be spent right here in this bedroom.

He shifts his knees to push hers apart wide, half-hard and rolling against her to try and get some relief. He hasn't spent a lot of time just kissing, though, and he wants to do it thoroughly before he moves on to something else.

He draws his tongue along hers for a moment before tugging his teeth at her lower lip, hoping to see it swell up full for him.

She moaned into his mouth, eagerly winding her arms around his neck to hold him close as their mouths met. Her hips lifted to meet his, a lean bare leg coiling sinuously around Bucky's hips as they moved together, as perfectly as if they'd been made for nothing else.

They had all the time in the world, now. Perhaps Fate was being kind, for the moment. Granting her a reprieve from the hell she'd suffered through for her entire life. Because this, him, was all she'd ever, ever wanted.

He tugged at her lower lip and she mewled, whimpering softly but greedily licking at his lips with her own questing tongue. "...you know I love you," Natalia whispered in the heat between them. "You. James Barnes." Then her grin flashed and green eyes twinkled. "And all the men you made up to chase after me."

"That was it," he teases back, thinking about the haircuts, the dye, the contacts - every single way he pretended to be someone else and ended up with her all the same. Everyone had a different language and a different story but none of them mattered in bed and especially not in this bed. He laughs softly and pulls her down to kiss her soundly.

"I made up every identity to see which one you liked the best. Didn't think you'd like plain ol' Brooklyn so I went with the French first. Then I found out you had a Russian thing going so I was Russian. You see how I figured out my plan. Smart girl."

"I have to admit," Natalia told him, trailing fingernails up and down Bucky's back, "Jean-Marc was a favorite. You made a gorgeous Frenchman, smoking those thins and constantly running your hand through your hair. And it was black, then, too." She demonstrated the same, letting her fingers card through his shaggy hair.

"And I am Russian, so that was easy. I just had to dye my hair blonde, throw on some high heels and diamonds, and speak my native language, and you were hooked, Vassily." She smirked up at him. "Gotta say, though - I never imagined you'd ever show up as a redhead. It was a darker red, thank God, otherwise you'd have looked like a washed up Irishman."

She fell into kissing him again, moving from his lips to his cheek, then down the strong column of his neck, sucking lightly at salty skin, sweet under her mouth.

"I always wondered if you'd like just me. Just Bucky," he admits, voice gone soft both at the kisses she's laving on him but also because he's wistful now at what had been and hopeful for what's to come. Maybe his marriage had been doomed from the start but ever since he'd been with Natalia the first time, it'd never recovered. It'd never been the same.

"Ruined my marriage for you. I'd ruin myself over and over for you even if you didn't know it," he murmurs. He cards thick fingers through her curls. "I'd let you destroy me in and out, you know that? Too weak for you by half."

"I love you, Natalia. Just you. Just as you come."

She fell still, and quiet, hearing all of that. And it took a minute or so for Natalia to lift her head and meet those lovely eyes, her own gaze a little...pained. "...I'm sorry," she whispered quietly, resting her cheek against his. "...I didn't mean to. I just--just couldn't...stay away from you."

Not even once she'd learned who he really was - James Barnes, CIA; she'd still been drawn like a moth to a flame, unerringly.

"...I knew who you were, before Athens," Natalia admitted. "That last time we were together. And..." she lowered her eyes, bit at her lower lip, "...and I-I knew you were married. Had a life here. But..." She took a breath. "But I wanted to know...if you still--if you still wanted me...your Sasha, your Alexia." Her lips twisted ruefully. "Your Sophie."

Trembling fingers gently touched his rough cheek. "...I didn't want to...didn't mean to hurt you, James, if I did." Natalia bit her lower lip, again. "I just--just wanted you."

"You never hurt me," he says quietly. "That marriage was doomed from the start. But you...you haunted me. I didn't care who you were, I just wanted you. I fell in love with what makes you you. You couldn't hide it under all those disguises. You couldn't hide it when you dissembled just like I couldn't hide me. I just didn't know if any of them were your real name."

When he says she knew before Athens and that she knew he was married, he pauses for a moment. "That was early. How did you keep from outing me, Natalia? And I take back the hurting thing. You shot me in the damn shoulder and that still hurts. Know why you did it, though, and it saved my life. Good on you."

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