"Why wouldn't I want to? It's about you, isn't it?"
Bucky is a little sad and a lot confused that Natasha would even have to ask that question and he rolls over onto his side so he can prop on his elbow and touch her idly while they talk. He draws his fingertips between her breasts and down her abdomen while he speaks.
"I like doing it. I like making you feel good. I'll do it again if you wanna go for round two."
Now she did feel self-conscious. Exposed, and all too naked right out in the middle of the living room floor. Natasha automatically clutched a corner of the blanket and pulled it over her as much as she could, not to hide from his eyes, because really, it was a little late for that, but out of sheer reflex.
And she knew she was blushing; she could her skin heating, and for an entirely different reason this time. Turning on her side to face him, Natasha ducked her head, clutching the blanket corner over her bare breasts.
"I...don't know. If it's about me, I mean." She couldn't help a depreciating little laugh. "It never was before, so." And nervously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I thought--I thought this was what you wanted, James..."
Bucky sees her draw the blanket over herself and he feels bad that he's made her shy when he'd only wanted to show her affection and love in the only way he can right now. It's all right, though. He can still talk to her and that can be enough. This can be enough.
"Well, yeah, it's what I wanted but...Natasha? I love you. I want you to feel good. It's not just about me. I couldn't enjoy it if you weren't enjoying it as much as I was."
He strokes his hand against her hair. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"You didn't," she told him, firm on that, at least. "It's just..." And she sighed, because bringing up Alex in any conversation was just awful. "When I was with Alex, we never...never did anything like that." Natasha knew her face was flaming even brighter, but she forced herself to try and explain.
"It was always, well, just another chore, I guess. A way to destress, or something." She gave a small amused snort. "He even had a schedule for it. Every Monday and Thursday, like clockwork. Come home, take a shower, eat something, then spend an hour, maybe hour and a half...having sex." God knew it'd never been making love.
"...and when he was done, so was everything else. He usually went to sleep, and I finished up my work for the day, and turned in not long after." Sterile. Passionless. Like the rest of her life, so far. A slim shoulder gave a shrug, and she lowered her lashes, nibbling on her lower lip a bit.
"...but," she said softly, after a moment, "that was--what you did, it was...very nice, James." She caught his gaze again, her own shy this time. "Thank you."
"A fucking schedule? Sorry to say but I have sex whenever I feel like it," Bucky says, utterly floored by the idea of some man just scheduling out sex like it was something on a to do list and not something to do because you care about someone or because it's fun or because you're feeling like getting your rocks off with someone who doesn't expect anything. Bucky isn't good at the last one but the first two? Absolutely.
When she says what he did was nice and thanks him for it, he's not sure how to feel about that. He's never been told it's just nice and gotten a thank you but based on what she's told him, she doesn't really have a background for anything else.
"I'm not just in this to...whatever. But you sure as shit don't have to thank me for what ought to happen every time anyway." He rolls back onto his back and tries to decide what to do. He still wants her, yeah, but he kind of feels like an asshole asking for that when she'd admitted her last boyfriend just used her as a pump and dump and went to sleep afterward. He slings his arm across his eyes so he can hide a little too.
"I think I fucked this up and it was my only chance."
His vehemence made her blink, a little nonplussed. She didn't respond, and was glad she didn't when Bucky spoke up again. Natasha didn't really know how to feel right now, either. Everything was just...awkward, now, and she wanted to hide behind a brick wall.
But she definitely didn't want him regretting anything, so Natasha reached out gingerly, placing a hand on Bucky's bunched bicep. "The night is still young?" she offered, a corner of her mouth lifting up. "And we're the only ones here, so...?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's young. We can have some more champagne and loosen up a little and everything will be fine," Bucky says. He thinks this is the best idea because they can either finish having sex or he'll get so drunk that he'll forget he fucked up his one chance with his dream girl.
"I just love you and I know this is it, for me, and if I'm not perfect it's never gonna happen again. And I want it to happen again. It's all I think about. I wanna take care of you the way you deserve."
He sighs a little. "Yeah, I'm gonna need that champagne."
Lips twitching wryly, Natasha managed to sit up, wrap a throw from the couch around her in lieu of the blanket upon which they still sat, and poured them both a generous glass of the cool champagne. It was still delicious, sweet on her tongue, and she downed the full glass quickly, pouring another right after.
"When in doubt, get drunk?" A sardonic query. Hidden behind the blanket, she didn't immediately move to find her clothes, wherever they'd ended up. The sun had set across the Pacific, but the fire's warmth was pleasant, pushing back the ocean's habitual chill.
Three glasses later, Natasha idly fiddled with the stem of her glass, and lifted an eyebrow at her companion, still brooding into his drink. "You know," Natasha heard herself say, "I never said I expected you to be perfect, James Barnes." She laughed lightly. "In fact, I know just how much of a screw-up you really are. And I like you still. So, therefore your worries are unfounded, right?"
Three more glasses of champagne had relaxed him considerably so when Natasha says she doesn't expect him to be perfect, he takes that in and lets it wash over him. Maybe he's trying too hard.
"Yeah? I've just never loved someone the way I love you. I wanna take care of you forever. You mean so much to me that I'm terrified to make one mistake because you might leave and I won't have a chance. Stupid, right?"
Bucky is aware he can be pretty stupid sometimes but he likes to think he's mostly a good guy. He tries his best, anyway.
Natasha snorted and waved her half-empty glass, taking in the beach and the rest of the state. "And where would I go?" she asked, slurring just a bit. "Down to the guesthouse?" She huffed and shook her head, unable to keep from smiling. "You could come down there anytime you wanted to, James. It's your house, right?"
She put the glass down before she dropped it. "You're overthinking this way too much, Barnes." Clutching the sheet over one shoulder and beneath the other arm, Natasha walked on her knees over to plunk down in front of the musician, blinking up at him a little owlishly.
"Well, if I'm gonna stop thinking and just do I guess I've gotta get you off all over again," Bucky says, laughing a little. "Because the first one's worn off and you're gonna need another one if we're doing that." He tosses back the rest of his glass of champagne and kisses her, hands cupping her cheeks while he does.
He thinks he could kiss Natasha for the rest of his life and it wouldn't be enough but he'll take this stolen moment while they're both riding high on champagne and uninhibited enough to give into desires they've been keeping buttoned down.
He still tasted of the champagne, sweet on his tongue, and Natasha didn't hesitate to kiss right back, parting her lips and licking at him gently. The blanket she let fall in favor of draping her arms around his neck and leaning sideways across his lap. Her long curls draped across Bucky's thighs, but Natasha met his mouth with more fervor than she had before, letting the fizz from the alcohol carry her along.
One small hand smoothed over his bare shoulder, fingernails gently scratching over his skin. She whimpered softly, right into his mouth, unabashed to tangle her tongue with his, all inhibitions left behind, this time. The fire crackled, but it was a chill thing compared to the heat between the man and woman coiled together in front of it.
The kiss is good. Bucky tastes champagne on Natasha's lips and the scratch of her fingernails is just enough to ground him and remind him that this is real and not some elaborate fantasy he's dreamed up in the middle of the night. It'll still have happened when he wakes up in the morning and nothing can take that from him.
He's still wearing his jeans so he rises up on his knees to undo them and push them down and laughs when he falls over a little and ends up sprawled on his back, legs every which way but right.
"A little help? I apparently failed basic life skills just now."
Their kiss broke only so Bucky could finish undressing, Natasha sitting back on her knees and watching with unfeigned interest. Only to blink, then splutter and laugh when that endeavor didn't really work, and the musician ended up spread-eagled on the blanket, one leg bare and his jeans hung up on the other. He looked so comical, all she could do was giggle.
"You're impossible," she teased, walking over on her knees to "assist", which basically consisted of reaching across his torso to pull on the twisted denim, and getting tripped by the blanket herself, resulting in a moderate tangle of limbs when she went over sideways across Bucky's stomach, squealing as she tumbled.
Thankfully, no one was hurt by the time everything got sorted out, and with all clothing tossed away, and the blanket shoved away, and Natasha was once more able to put her arms around her guitarist's neck and kiss him soundly, uncaring of anything else for the foreseeable future.
"Hey Beautiful," Bucky says, laughing softly when they're finally naked and not tangled up in fabric. The kiss between them this time is searing hot and far from playful and it doesn't take him long to roll Natasha under him. He kisses her again, long and slow, and then pulls away just enough to lay alongside him. He skims his hand down her body, lays it low on her belly.
"Gonna need to get you ready all over again. Bet I can make you beg for it, though. You think I can?"
He thinks the alcohol has made him bolder than he was because he's less worried about fucking it up and more worried about making Natasha feel good. That's the most important thing.
"Probably." The quip was out even before she realized she'd said it. Natasha felt her cheeks heating - she'd never in her life been this brazen - but the time for shyness or second thoughts had long passed. Bucky was gorgeous above her; dark hair, sparkling blue eyes, kissable mouth slanted just so, and the vision he presented was nothing less of magnificent.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that he didn't have to, but she bit it back before it could escape. Rather than ruin everything with words or insecurities, Natasha simply draped her arms over his shoulders and carefully rolled her bare body beneath his, a sinuous enticement.
Bucky slides his fingers between her thighs just to play, teasing around to figure out what feels good to her and what doesn't. She's a beautiful woman, the most beautiful he's ever known, and there's nothing in the world he wants more right now than to make her happy. He's got something to prove.
He moves his mouth to kiss along her neck and jaw before teasing just the tip of one finger into her and drawing it away. It feels good to him, making her feel good, and he knows he's going to be desperate by the time he actually fucks her. He won't be able to help it.
It was still...strange, this sort of blatant attention, but Natasha reminded herself to just relax and let it happen, to let him take care of her the way no one else had. And God, but didn't it feel so good? She couldn't help the soft little noises that tripped past parted lips in response to Bucky's hand, playing such delicate havoc between her legs.
That, coupled with the warm, sweet kisses along her throat, in truth her most sensitive spot, had her arching up from the blanket with a completely involuntary whimper, fingernails biting into his skin just a little. He teased her and she bit at her lower lip, loins clenching almost painfully, so very eager for more.
"I bet I can get you to come for me twice," Bucky murmurs, nipping just below Natasha's ear as he curls his fingers into her. He doesn't know if he can or not - probably can - but the tease might be enough to get her there the first time anyway. He moves his thumb a little faster against her clit.
"Get you to make all sorts of pretty noises for me. I know how to play you, Natasha. I'll make your whole body sing."
He doesn't know if she likes dirty talk or not but it's something he likes so he hopes she'll let him know if it's not her style.
It truthfully wouldn't take much; she was already overstimulated from just this simple attention right now. Never the one to receive such blatant male focus was working entirely in Bucky's favor; Natasha was already whimpering softly, biting at her lower lip to keep from moaning right out loud. His whispered words, delivered in that low, rumbling sexy voice were working their own magic, heating her blood as it zinged about beneath her skin, flushing it a pretty peach.
Her fingernails scraped; she clutched at him spasmodically as her hips moved against his hands, and the redhead whimpered and mewled, feeling her entire body as if it were two sizes too small. Oh, but she was getting close, so easily, so sensitive and ripe for a man's bold, sure touch. She whined his name, tugging at him needfully, and turned her head to find his mouth, snagging a bold, tongue-filled kiss for herself.
The kiss is searing hot and Bucky moves his hand a little faster and increases the pressure, trying to get Natasha to come because he thinks he's going to die if he can't get in her soon. He's not going to put himself above her, though, and will keep it up until she comes for him.
He tugs lightly at her lower lip with his teeth before breaking the kiss to take a breath and looks at her eyes, his blue meeting her green. She's so beautiful, Natasha, and he falls in love with her all over again every time he watches her.
"Come for me, doll. I know you can. You can do it for me."
Those green eyes darkened as her body began to tighten, then they lightened to the brightest shade of jade when she fell over into her climax, dark lashes falling over their brilliance as she shuddered and gasped. Natasha clutched Bucky's shoulders, thighs shaking like leaves in a windstorm as the orgasm rolled through her, leaving her winded and breathless in its shocking aftermath.
She ached, all over, but not from any undue pain. More from the anticipation, that there was even more to follow, and for once in her life, she wanted it. Still gasping for breath, the redhead sought her lover's mouth for deep, torrid kisses, her entire body primed and so ready for his. She'd fallen over the edge; there was no going back now.
Bucky is pretty sure he's never seen anyone come as prettily as Natasha just had and he falls into her kiss eagerly, shifting to cover her as he does. The fire is still warm at his back and there's a breeze from the doors opened to the patio across the room; there's no way this could be more perfect except if it was in his bed.
"Wanna be in you now," he murmurs, a little breathless. "Can I? Will you let me?"
Maybe he doesn't necessarily have to ask since they've been fooling around for a while now but he does it anyway just to be sure.
Once she managed to gain enough breath to see straight again, Natasha blinked open slightly-dazed eyes to realize that Bucky was now atop her, nestled perfectly between her thighs and his very nice body deliciously heavy, pressed every inch against hers. His hips shifted and she felt him, thick and hard, rubbing against her where she still throbbed, tingled, and ached.
She could only drape her arms over his shoulders, curl first one leg, then the other, around his waist, and give a silent nod, lips parted, swollen, and shining. "--yes," finally rolled out of her mouth, gently tilting her hips in unabashed invitation. "...yes, James. Please..."
It's all he needs, that little yes, and Bucky shifts so he can press into her. He moves slowly to let her adjust and when he's in Natasha to the hilt, he kisses her gently. Just now, he's not moving, and he'll hold her there until he feels like she's ready for more.
"You feel so fucking good," he murmurs against her temple. "So fucking wet and tight for me. You're so perfect."
He reaches down to grasp her knees and hold her legs there against his waist so that when he pulls out of her and presses back in, it feels like he's going even deeper than before.
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Bucky is a little sad and a lot confused that Natasha would even have to ask that question and he rolls over onto his side so he can prop on his elbow and touch her idly while they talk. He draws his fingertips between her breasts and down her abdomen while he speaks.
"I like doing it. I like making you feel good. I'll do it again if you wanna go for round two."
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And she knew she was blushing; she could her skin heating, and for an entirely different reason this time. Turning on her side to face him, Natasha ducked her head, clutching the blanket corner over her bare breasts.
"I...don't know. If it's about me, I mean." She couldn't help a depreciating little laugh. "It never was before, so." And nervously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I thought--I thought this was what you wanted, James..."
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"Well, yeah, it's what I wanted but...Natasha? I love you. I want you to feel good. It's not just about me. I couldn't enjoy it if you weren't enjoying it as much as I was."
He strokes his hand against her hair. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."
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"It was always, well, just another chore, I guess. A way to destress, or something." She gave a small amused snort. "He even had a schedule for it. Every Monday and Thursday, like clockwork. Come home, take a shower, eat something, then spend an hour, maybe hour and a half...having sex." God knew it'd never been making love.
"...and when he was done, so was everything else. He usually went to sleep, and I finished up my work for the day, and turned in not long after." Sterile. Passionless. Like the rest of her life, so far. A slim shoulder gave a shrug, and she lowered her lashes, nibbling on her lower lip a bit.
"...but," she said softly, after a moment, "that was--what you did, it was...very nice, James." She caught his gaze again, her own shy this time. "Thank you."
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When she says what he did was nice and thanks him for it, he's not sure how to feel about that. He's never been told it's just nice and gotten a thank you but based on what she's told him, she doesn't really have a background for anything else.
"I'm not just in this to...whatever. But you sure as shit don't have to thank me for what ought to happen every time anyway." He rolls back onto his back and tries to decide what to do. He still wants her, yeah, but he kind of feels like an asshole asking for that when she'd admitted her last boyfriend just used her as a pump and dump and went to sleep afterward. He slings his arm across his eyes so he can hide a little too.
"I think I fucked this up and it was my only chance."
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But she definitely didn't want him regretting anything, so Natasha reached out gingerly, placing a hand on Bucky's bunched bicep. "The night is still young?" she offered, a corner of her mouth lifting up. "And we're the only ones here, so...?"
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"I just love you and I know this is it, for me, and if I'm not perfect it's never gonna happen again. And I want it to happen again. It's all I think about. I wanna take care of you the way you deserve."
He sighs a little. "Yeah, I'm gonna need that champagne."
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"When in doubt, get drunk?" A sardonic query. Hidden behind the blanket, she didn't immediately move to find her clothes, wherever they'd ended up. The sun had set across the Pacific, but the fire's warmth was pleasant, pushing back the ocean's habitual chill.
Three glasses later, Natasha idly fiddled with the stem of her glass, and lifted an eyebrow at her companion, still brooding into his drink. "You know," Natasha heard herself say, "I never said I expected you to be perfect, James Barnes." She laughed lightly. "In fact, I know just how much of a screw-up you really are. And I like you still. So, therefore your worries are unfounded, right?"
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"Yeah? I've just never loved someone the way I love you. I wanna take care of you forever. You mean so much to me that I'm terrified to make one mistake because you might leave and I won't have a chance. Stupid, right?"
Bucky is aware he can be pretty stupid sometimes but he likes to think he's mostly a good guy. He tries his best, anyway.
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She put the glass down before she dropped it. "You're overthinking this way too much, Barnes." Clutching the sheet over one shoulder and beneath the other arm, Natasha walked on her knees over to plunk down in front of the musician, blinking up at him a little owlishly.
"Stop thinking so hard. And just do. All right?"
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He thinks he could kiss Natasha for the rest of his life and it wouldn't be enough but he'll take this stolen moment while they're both riding high on champagne and uninhibited enough to give into desires they've been keeping buttoned down.
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One small hand smoothed over his bare shoulder, fingernails gently scratching over his skin. She whimpered softly, right into his mouth, unabashed to tangle her tongue with his, all inhibitions left behind, this time. The fire crackled, but it was a chill thing compared to the heat between the man and woman coiled together in front of it.
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He's still wearing his jeans so he rises up on his knees to undo them and push them down and laughs when he falls over a little and ends up sprawled on his back, legs every which way but right.
"A little help? I apparently failed basic life skills just now."
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"You're impossible," she teased, walking over on her knees to "assist", which basically consisted of reaching across his torso to pull on the twisted denim, and getting tripped by the blanket herself, resulting in a moderate tangle of limbs when she went over sideways across Bucky's stomach, squealing as she tumbled.
Thankfully, no one was hurt by the time everything got sorted out, and with all clothing tossed away, and the blanket shoved away, and Natasha was once more able to put her arms around her guitarist's neck and kiss him soundly, uncaring of anything else for the foreseeable future.
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"Gonna need to get you ready all over again. Bet I can make you beg for it, though. You think I can?"
He thinks the alcohol has made him bolder than he was because he's less worried about fucking it up and more worried about making Natasha feel good. That's the most important thing.
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It was on the tip of her tongue to say that he didn't have to, but she bit it back before it could escape. Rather than ruin everything with words or insecurities, Natasha simply draped her arms over his shoulders and carefully rolled her bare body beneath his, a sinuous enticement.
"I really think you can, James."
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He moves his mouth to kiss along her neck and jaw before teasing just the tip of one finger into her and drawing it away. It feels good to him, making her feel good, and he knows he's going to be desperate by the time he actually fucks her. He won't be able to help it.
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That, coupled with the warm, sweet kisses along her throat, in truth her most sensitive spot, had her arching up from the blanket with a completely involuntary whimper, fingernails biting into his skin just a little. He teased her and she bit at her lower lip, loins clenching almost painfully, so very eager for more.
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"Get you to make all sorts of pretty noises for me. I know how to play you, Natasha. I'll make your whole body sing."
He doesn't know if she likes dirty talk or not but it's something he likes so he hopes she'll let him know if it's not her style.
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Her fingernails scraped; she clutched at him spasmodically as her hips moved against his hands, and the redhead whimpered and mewled, feeling her entire body as if it were two sizes too small. Oh, but she was getting close, so easily, so sensitive and ripe for a man's bold, sure touch. She whined his name, tugging at him needfully, and turned her head to find his mouth, snagging a bold, tongue-filled kiss for herself.
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He tugs lightly at her lower lip with his teeth before breaking the kiss to take a breath and looks at her eyes, his blue meeting her green. She's so beautiful, Natasha, and he falls in love with her all over again every time he watches her.
"Come for me, doll. I know you can. You can do it for me."
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She ached, all over, but not from any undue pain. More from the anticipation, that there was even more to follow, and for once in her life, she wanted it. Still gasping for breath, the redhead sought her lover's mouth for deep, torrid kisses, her entire body primed and so ready for his. She'd fallen over the edge; there was no going back now.
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"Wanna be in you now," he murmurs, a little breathless. "Can I? Will you let me?"
Maybe he doesn't necessarily have to ask since they've been fooling around for a while now but he does it anyway just to be sure.
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She could only drape her arms over his shoulders, curl first one leg, then the other, around his waist, and give a silent nod, lips parted, swollen, and shining. "--yes," finally rolled out of her mouth, gently tilting her hips in unabashed invitation. "...yes, James. Please..."
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"You feel so fucking good," he murmurs against her temple. "So fucking wet and tight for me. You're so perfect."
He reaches down to grasp her knees and hold her legs there against his waist so that when he pulls out of her and presses back in, it feels like he's going even deeper than before.
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