Steve was with her, and he started to speak, but Natasha stepped in front of him before he could. Her scrutinizing eye took in Barnes' overall seediness, his jittery stance, but she supposed she couldn't blame the man; Tony had all but thrown him in the dungeon the moment he'd arrived in New York.
"I know you aren't," she told him levelly, unwavering. "And we're going to fix that. Pack your trash, Barnes. You're moving in with me for a while." That said, she abruptly turned and headed back upstairs, so that the Alpha's overwhelming scent wouldn't have her on her hands and knees before either of them were ready.
"Easy, Buck," Steve told his friend soothingly. "I'm gonna help you get ready, and we have a mild sedative for you that'll help keep you calm on the way to Nat's place. Think you can handle that, pal?"
Steve is probably the only Alpha (or person, really) that he can trust right now and even though he feels like a junkie who just got a whiff of heroin in rehab, he thinks he can hold it together long enough to pack clothes and necessities to go to Natasha's place instead of this room he's in now.
He'd kept it neat before going into rut but now it's damaged and torn up. He hadn't intended the property damage but he had no other outlet. He lets Steve give him an injection and it does soothe him a little. It's enough for him to pile into the back of a car with Steve beside him and Natasha driving.
"They're letting me out of prison now?" Steve nods. "You need a place right now. You're going to be safe with Natasha, all right? HYDRA can't find you and if anyone knows about going off the grid, it's Nat. Isn't that right?"
She drove through downtown traffic with the ease of one born to it, weaving around cars with nonchalant grace. Glancing in the SUV's rearview mirror, Natasha eyed both passengers with calm assurance. "My apartment isn't far," she told both of them. "And it's secured with the latest Stark-Tech, but not part of Tony's internal servers." She grinned briefly. "I don't have an automated penthouse."
Which she preferred; living in the middle of the masses was easier to disappear into plain sight, but she had her foxholes, her emergency exits. And as she held the corner place in her building, her neighbor was an elderly lady who stayed indoors with her cats and was deaf as a post. The couple below her were workaholics who held different schedules; they both utilized medications to sleep and did so deeply - Natasha doubted a bomb blast would wake either of them. The apartment above hers was currently empty; for some strange reason, it was never quite up to code to be rented. Odd, that.
"I would like to keep my security deposit," she informed them both, absently changing lanes and sliding through a yellow light. "So if you start getting the destructive itch, Barnes, let me know before you take it out on my furniture or the walls, please."
Bucky clenches his fist but she's not wrong. He'd torn apart his room in Stark Tower because he'd had no release and he's assuming that Natasha will let him do something even if it isn't sex. She wouldn't have volunteered otherwise, would she? He appreciates she hasn't discussed what they are or aren't going to do in front of Steve. It's private.
"I'll be fine if I can calm down," Bucky says mulishly, prompting Steve to touch his arm lightly.
"Look, Buck, Natasha wants to help. She's not going to lock you up in a room again, okay? You're going to be free to go around her apartment as much as you want. You don't have to ask her to go from room to room. It'll be like having a roommate in a real place."
Thankfully, Natasha's building had its own underground parking garage, complete with elevator, so there were no nosy, curious eyes to watch as the Black Widow, Captain America, and the former Winter Soldier vacated the black SUV and stepped into the lift, headed for the sixth floor. At the far end of the hallway, Natasha unlocked the door, reached around to deactivate the alarm, and gestured her guests inside, flicking on the lamp in the foyer.
"Come in," she invited, handing Steve the car keys and placing her own set in the small bowl atop the side table. Her apartment was nicely furnished, low-key elegance and taste, all in cool tones and colors. The floor-length curtains were drawn over the far wall windows; she had a wonderful view of the bay some miles away. A small hallway off the living room led to the single bedroom and full bath; the kitchen was small but functional, perfect for a single occupant.
"Thanks, Steve," the small redhead said, resolutely turning the tall blond soldier around and all but shoving him towards the door. "I'll take it from here. And I'll check in once a day, so don't worry. See you later." With that, Natasha firmly closed the door on any and all Captainly-Righteous protests, rolling her eyes with a mildly exasperated sigh.
"There. That's done."
Then she turned to the ticking time bomb still rooted in the middle of her foyer, and her gaze softened slightly. Deliberately, Natasha slowly slid her jacket off, revealing the smooth, unmarked skin of her neck, bared by her ponytail. She met Bucky's gaze steadily, calmly.
"Come here, James," she invited quietly. "Come and scent me. See if that helps."
Now that he's finally alone and he doesn't have to hold himself together, the invitation to scent Natasha after he's been smelling her all afternoon is overwhelming and he moves forward. It's more tentative and unsure than he feels, really, but she'd said for him not to mess up anything and he wants to keep himself together.
She's so much smaller than him that he has to bend down to scent her but he does, burying his face in against her neck and inhaling. She smells like berries and oranges and chocolate. It's wonderful.
She'd honestly expected him to lunge at her, pin her against the door, and sink his teeth into her skin. That he didn't, and approached almost hesitantly, was a welcome surprise. Natasha did, however, take Bucky into her arms, letting him settle against her as much as he could, and obligingly tipped aside her head for his nose to meet her flesh.
"Pozhaluysta," she murmured in response, then took her own surreptitious breath. "You smell good, too, James." She inhaled at his temple, gently carding one small hand through disheveled dark hair. "Like...cinnamon and pine. A little bit of steel, maybe fresh leather." It surprised her, but, "...I like it."
Her small hand in his hair does more for him than any sedative could have and he can't help but whine a little when she pulls her hand away from his hair. God, he's pathetic right now, isn't he? He flicks his tongue against her skin and immediately pulls back, unsure.
"Sorry, you didn't tell me what I could do and I know you offered but you didn't want me to mess anything up. I'm trying to keep my control."
It's hard, though, because he wants to be soothed and he's hard and he wants her to comfort him and fuck him and everything in between.
Natasha let him pull away, but held his gaze regardless. She was an Omega, yes, but she'd all of her life kept her own emotions under strong lock and key, which was why she'd offered to assist this suffering Alpha through his rut. Quite likely the first one he'd experienced since being freed from HYDRA's control.
"What do you need, James?" she asked, instead of laying down any further 'ground rules'. "I just don't want you demolishing my furniture," Natasha added with a half-grin. Then she sobered. "I'm here to do whatever you need me to do. I know it's difficult for you," it had to be, "but I really did bring you here to help."
She glanced over one shoulder. "And that's why I threw Steve out so quickly." Looking back at Bucky, both her gaze and her tone remained even, calm. "If you need to fuck me, then you can. Just tell me what we need to do, malyshka."
"I'm just really out of control, I don't want to hurt you. I haven't had a rut since...I don't remember one, so it probably was before the war."
Natasha is offering what he needs, though, and hearing it out plain is enough to have him clenching his fists in an attempt to keep from carrying her off. His brain is still foggy from the sedative and his usual confusion from drifting in and out of being the Winter Soldier but he's enough of himself to not want to just assault her.
"I'm probably going to be rough. I haven't since before."
Natasha took a brief moment to thank God that Rogers had managed to get that sedative into Barnes before they'd left the Tower, else she might well have had her face planted in the door while this rutting Alpha railed her against it ten seconds after it closed behind Steve. As it was, she wasn't too surprised to hear that he was all but ready to jump her right now, therefore she reached out, took his hand, and led him off to her bedroom, closing that door behind him.
"Get undressed," she ordered quietly, calmly but succinctly removing her own clothing. She didn't want anything ripped or shredded. "Rough is okay. I don't mind bruises, but keep your teeth to yourself, understand?" There would be no chance of a mate-bond if he never bit. "If you start getting out of hand," she reassured him, putting a knee on her mattress, "I'll handle you, da?"
Bucky understands the rules about biting even if he doesn't remember having a rut before now; some things are just inherent to orientation and that's one of them, to be sure. He strips off his own clothes as quickly as Natasha had hers and reaches for her, pushing her back against the mattress.
"Let me try to get you ready, at least. I don't know if I can be that patient, I smell you everywhere, but I can at least try not to hurt you."
Rough was one thing. Assault was another. Bucky was trying to be as kind as he could be in this state.
Barnes wasn't hard on the eyes, and Natasha gave herself about five seconds to appreciate the gorgeous male aesthetic before he pushed her down on the bed. Her mouth quirked as she replied, "Da, I'd appreciate it." But she put her arms around his shoulders and parted her legs, cradling his heavy body between her thighs.
She had to admit that he felt wonderful; thick and broad and superbly muscled, and she guided his mouth again to her throat, offering more of her scent. "Just...do what you need to," she murmured, instinctively molding her body to his, supple curves to hard planes.
Bucky kisses along her throat and it's a tempting thing to bite down but he has to think through the cloud of hormones and not do it. He licks her, instead, and works his hand down between them. It means moving so Natasha isn't wrapped around him but this part is probably going to be appreciated later on.
"It's been a while, you might have to help me out," he warns, working his fingers against her while he bends his head to lick at the curve of her breast. Natasha is an absolutely beautiful woman along with smelling amazing so it's a deadly combination.
She managed a low chuckle, which ended on a soft hiss when thick fingers worked between her thighs. Slim hips bucked of their own accord, and Natasha bit back a soft moan at the feel of a warm, wet tongue sliding over her skin. "You're...not the only one," she replied, a little huskily. His scent was strengthening, filling her nose and mouth and making her want to roll over and present. Which was, actually, a little worrying.
But as long as she kept most of the control, it'd be all right. They'd get through this with no lasting repercussions. She was sure of it.
"Your scent's getting stronger," Natasha remarked, threading hands through Bucky's long hair. "Like...like Christmas Trees on steroids."
It's enough to make him laugh, actually, and Bucky tips his face against her neck and inhales her scent for a moment as he does. He's smiling, he can feel it, and he doesn't even remember the last time he smiled. Decades before now, that's for sure.
"I don't know if anyone has ever told me that. Do you like it?" He really likes her scent, in particular, and he isn't sure if it's just because she's an omega either. He thinks it's because this particular scent is good for him and he falls quiet and just smells while he rolls his thumb over her clit and works his fingers in. He has the idea if he can hold on long enough to get her to come, this won't be so bad for her. Maybe it won't be a chore.
The sound of his low laugh brought goosebumps over her, and Natasha echoed it with a softer chuckle. "I do," she breathed back, lips quirked in a small smile. "It's--!" She was about to say more, but right about then, two of those sinful, thick fingers penetrated and she stiffened, muscles automatically squeezing around the invasive digits.
Her hips lifted upwards, wanting more, and Natasha didn't bother checking the moan that slipped out now. It was sheer reflex to guide his warm, wet mouth to her breasts, even as her body lifted for his touch. He was an Alpha, she was an Omega; it was instinct. Primal and bestial.
"...James..."
She knew she had to sate him, to quell the need burning beneath his skin, but perhaps it wouldn't be so terribly onerous, taking this broken man through his first rut in God knew how long. "...that's....that's good, malyshka..."
Russian is soothing. It's been his operating language for decades now and it comes easier than English sometimes. He ghosts his teeth along her nipple for a second before sucking, hard, and crooking his fingers in her in hopes he can get her that much closer to coming. It seems like his body knows how to do this even if he doesn't remember doing it.
Her skin tastes good and he knows later when he has more control he'll bury his face between her thighs and lick her until she screams but right now he just wants her wet enough that he can fuck her and not hurt her. If he can do that and get through this first time, maybe his body will ease a little.
Now, she didn't try at all to hold back her moans, sighs, and groans. Natasha gave herself over to the pleasure, knowing Bucky needed it to help soothe some of his jagged edges. No doubt they'd spend much of his rut in bed, just like this, but she was sure it'd get easier the more they coupled.
Her hips rolled in counter-rhythm to his hand, every nerve in her loins seemingly tied in to those tingling at her breasts, the overstimulation very nearly too much to handle all at once. But the redhead had better control than to just fall over the cliff so quickly, although she knew it wouldn't be long before it crashed right over her.
She did, however, managed to open her eyes and gain enough breath to whisper, "...I can take you, James, if you want..." Although Barnes wasn't exactly small, Natasha knew she was hot enough, slick enough, to manage.
That's the affirmation he's been looking for and Bucky moves then, hiking her legs up around his hips and sliding into her as slowly as he can manage. Once he's in her to the hilt, he exhales softly and buries his face against her neck again to scent her.
"I'm trying to stay in control," he murmurs. "Because I need to stay in control but it's really hard."
She'd volunteered for this, yes, but she doesn't deserve for him to be brutal because he's in the middle of rut and it's heinous because of the serum and everything HYDRA had done to him. Natasha deserves it to be good enough not to hurt her.
When she felt him shifting to enter her, Natasha made herself relax, but her nails bit into flesh and metal, regardless. He definitely wasn't small, and it was a good stretch, but there was no denying how full she felt once he filled her to the hilt.
"It's...all right," she managed to pant, disengaging her fingernails to slide her hands down his corded arms, both real and prosthetic. Lifting her hips, Natasha rolled her body beneath his, her head falling back with a low, husky moan at the bolts of pleasure shooting through her lower body.
Bucky nods when she says it's all right and he moves faster, faster the way he wants to move and the way that his body is demanding of him. He pulls out and pushes back in hard. Bucky captures her wrists in his hands and pins them up above her head as he moves, needing to make sure she isn't going to move from under him.
He knows his knot will catch and fast but right now, he needs to move as much as he can and get as much out of this as he can for a first time. It's doing a lot to smooth over the edges but he knows his hormones are going to demand it over and over again, even if it's softer and less brutal the next time.
His rut is going to demand that he takes care of her, too, so he doesn't feel nearly as bad as he should.
Natasha's breath caught and her body jolted with every rough, forceful thrust. She stifled a moment's panic when Bucky pulled her hands up over her head, but she knew she could get away if she really had to. Barnes hadn't been kidding when he'd said "rough", but then she'd had rougher, before. She also had a feeling his knot was going to catch mighty quickly, but that wasn't too surprising, really.
For this first time, however, Natasha knew she wasn't much more than a body, a willing medium for him to slake what he could of his lust. And she didn't mind. The man had suffered enough, and she could relate, having been forcibly suppressed for most of her own life, and then by necessity thereafter.
Just as he expected, his knot catches fast but he's nowhere close to coming. It's been too damn long for him to come right when his knot catches and he keeps moving, hips hitting hers hard. Bucky leans down and kisses her hard, teeth catching her lip lightly.
"Mine," he growls under his breath. "Just mine. No one else's. Mine to have."
Maybe he shouldn't be possessive but he's not exactly in his right mind at the moment.
Natasha couldn't swallow a cry when she felt Bucky's knot catch, tug, then expand completely, filling her and then some. But his strong hips kept slamming against hers, driving what breath she still possessed right from her lungs as fast as she could draw it. Then his mouth was back on hers, forcing her lips apart to kiss her thoroughly, leaving her just a little dizzy.
Still trying for breath when she heard his growled, feral announcement, the redhead started to object, but simply didn't have the air. He was still moving over her, trying to fuck his way to climax even with a swollen and caught knot. And she hadn't really considered the ramifications of that in her initial calculations.
She hadn't considered how it was going to make her feel.
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"I know you aren't," she told him levelly, unwavering. "And we're going to fix that. Pack your trash, Barnes. You're moving in with me for a while." That said, she abruptly turned and headed back upstairs, so that the Alpha's overwhelming scent wouldn't have her on her hands and knees before either of them were ready.
"Easy, Buck," Steve told his friend soothingly. "I'm gonna help you get ready, and we have a mild sedative for you that'll help keep you calm on the way to Nat's place. Think you can handle that, pal?"
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He'd kept it neat before going into rut but now it's damaged and torn up. He hadn't intended the property damage but he had no other outlet. He lets Steve give him an injection and it does soothe him a little. It's enough for him to pile into the back of a car with Steve beside him and Natasha driving.
"They're letting me out of prison now?" Steve nods. "You need a place right now. You're going to be safe with Natasha, all right? HYDRA can't find you and if anyone knows about going off the grid, it's Nat. Isn't that right?"
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Which she preferred; living in the middle of the masses was easier to disappear into plain sight, but she had her foxholes, her emergency exits. And as she held the corner place in her building, her neighbor was an elderly lady who stayed indoors with her cats and was deaf as a post. The couple below her were workaholics who held different schedules; they both utilized medications to sleep and did so deeply - Natasha doubted a bomb blast would wake either of them. The apartment above hers was currently empty; for some strange reason, it was never quite up to code to be rented. Odd, that.
"I would like to keep my security deposit," she informed them both, absently changing lanes and sliding through a yellow light. "So if you start getting the destructive itch, Barnes, let me know before you take it out on my furniture or the walls, please."
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"I'll be fine if I can calm down," Bucky says mulishly, prompting Steve to touch his arm lightly.
"Look, Buck, Natasha wants to help. She's not going to lock you up in a room again, okay? You're going to be free to go around her apartment as much as you want. You don't have to ask her to go from room to room. It'll be like having a roommate in a real place."
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"Come in," she invited, handing Steve the car keys and placing her own set in the small bowl atop the side table. Her apartment was nicely furnished, low-key elegance and taste, all in cool tones and colors. The floor-length curtains were drawn over the far wall windows; she had a wonderful view of the bay some miles away. A small hallway off the living room led to the single bedroom and full bath; the kitchen was small but functional, perfect for a single occupant.
"Thanks, Steve," the small redhead said, resolutely turning the tall blond soldier around and all but shoving him towards the door. "I'll take it from here. And I'll check in once a day, so don't worry. See you later." With that, Natasha firmly closed the door on any and all Captainly-Righteous protests, rolling her eyes with a mildly exasperated sigh.
"There. That's done."
Then she turned to the ticking time bomb still rooted in the middle of her foyer, and her gaze softened slightly. Deliberately, Natasha slowly slid her jacket off, revealing the smooth, unmarked skin of her neck, bared by her ponytail. She met Bucky's gaze steadily, calmly.
"Come here, James," she invited quietly. "Come and scent me. See if that helps."
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She's so much smaller than him that he has to bend down to scent her but he does, burying his face in against her neck and inhaling. She smells like berries and oranges and chocolate. It's wonderful.
"Thank you," he says softly.
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"Pozhaluysta," she murmured in response, then took her own surreptitious breath. "You smell good, too, James." She inhaled at his temple, gently carding one small hand through disheveled dark hair. "Like...cinnamon and pine. A little bit of steel, maybe fresh leather." It surprised her, but, "...I like it."
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"Sorry, you didn't tell me what I could do and I know you offered but you didn't want me to mess anything up. I'm trying to keep my control."
It's hard, though, because he wants to be soothed and he's hard and he wants her to comfort him and fuck him and everything in between.
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"What do you need, James?" she asked, instead of laying down any further 'ground rules'. "I just don't want you demolishing my furniture," Natasha added with a half-grin. Then she sobered. "I'm here to do whatever you need me to do. I know it's difficult for you," it had to be, "but I really did bring you here to help."
She glanced over one shoulder. "And that's why I threw Steve out so quickly." Looking back at Bucky, both her gaze and her tone remained even, calm. "If you need to fuck me, then you can. Just tell me what we need to do, malyshka."
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Natasha is offering what he needs, though, and hearing it out plain is enough to have him clenching his fists in an attempt to keep from carrying her off. His brain is still foggy from the sedative and his usual confusion from drifting in and out of being the Winter Soldier but he's enough of himself to not want to just assault her.
"I'm probably going to be rough. I haven't since before."
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"Get undressed," she ordered quietly, calmly but succinctly removing her own clothing. She didn't want anything ripped or shredded. "Rough is okay. I don't mind bruises, but keep your teeth to yourself, understand?" There would be no chance of a mate-bond if he never bit. "If you start getting out of hand," she reassured him, putting a knee on her mattress, "I'll handle you, da?"
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"Let me try to get you ready, at least. I don't know if I can be that patient, I smell you everywhere, but I can at least try not to hurt you."
Rough was one thing. Assault was another. Bucky was trying to be as kind as he could be in this state.
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She had to admit that he felt wonderful; thick and broad and superbly muscled, and she guided his mouth again to her throat, offering more of her scent. "Just...do what you need to," she murmured, instinctively molding her body to his, supple curves to hard planes.
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"It's been a while, you might have to help me out," he warns, working his fingers against her while he bends his head to lick at the curve of her breast. Natasha is an absolutely beautiful woman along with smelling amazing so it's a deadly combination.
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But as long as she kept most of the control, it'd be all right. They'd get through this with no lasting repercussions. She was sure of it.
"Your scent's getting stronger," Natasha remarked, threading hands through Bucky's long hair. "Like...like Christmas Trees on steroids."
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"I don't know if anyone has ever told me that. Do you like it?" He really likes her scent, in particular, and he isn't sure if it's just because she's an omega either. He thinks it's because this particular scent is good for him and he falls quiet and just smells while he rolls his thumb over her clit and works his fingers in. He has the idea if he can hold on long enough to get her to come, this won't be so bad for her. Maybe it won't be a chore.
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Her hips lifted upwards, wanting more, and Natasha didn't bother checking the moan that slipped out now. It was sheer reflex to guide his warm, wet mouth to her breasts, even as her body lifted for his touch. He was an Alpha, she was an Omega; it was instinct. Primal and bestial.
"...James..."
She knew she had to sate him, to quell the need burning beneath his skin, but perhaps it wouldn't be so terribly onerous, taking this broken man through his first rut in God knew how long. "...that's....that's good, malyshka..."
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Her skin tastes good and he knows later when he has more control he'll bury his face between her thighs and lick her until she screams but right now he just wants her wet enough that he can fuck her and not hurt her. If he can do that and get through this first time, maybe his body will ease a little.
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Her hips rolled in counter-rhythm to his hand, every nerve in her loins seemingly tied in to those tingling at her breasts, the overstimulation very nearly too much to handle all at once. But the redhead had better control than to just fall over the cliff so quickly, although she knew it wouldn't be long before it crashed right over her.
She did, however, managed to open her eyes and gain enough breath to whisper, "...I can take you, James, if you want..." Although Barnes wasn't exactly small, Natasha knew she was hot enough, slick enough, to manage.
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"I'm trying to stay in control," he murmurs. "Because I need to stay in control but it's really hard."
She'd volunteered for this, yes, but she doesn't deserve for him to be brutal because he's in the middle of rut and it's heinous because of the serum and everything HYDRA had done to him. Natasha deserves it to be good enough not to hurt her.
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"It's...all right," she managed to pant, disengaging her fingernails to slide her hands down his corded arms, both real and prosthetic. Lifting her hips, Natasha rolled her body beneath his, her head falling back with a low, husky moan at the bolts of pleasure shooting through her lower body.
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He knows his knot will catch and fast but right now, he needs to move as much as he can and get as much out of this as he can for a first time. It's doing a lot to smooth over the edges but he knows his hormones are going to demand it over and over again, even if it's softer and less brutal the next time.
His rut is going to demand that he takes care of her, too, so he doesn't feel nearly as bad as he should.
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For this first time, however, Natasha knew she wasn't much more than a body, a willing medium for him to slake what he could of his lust. And she didn't mind. The man had suffered enough, and she could relate, having been forcibly suppressed for most of her own life, and then by necessity thereafter.
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"Mine," he growls under his breath. "Just mine. No one else's. Mine to have."
Maybe he shouldn't be possessive but he's not exactly in his right mind at the moment.
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Still trying for breath when she heard his growled, feral announcement, the redhead started to object, but simply didn't have the air. He was still moving over her, trying to fuck his way to climax even with a swollen and caught knot. And she hadn't really considered the ramifications of that in her initial calculations.
She hadn't considered how it was going to make her feel.
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