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Natasha let him hold her, leaning into his embrace slightly. "Just...promise me you won't be one of those mates who questions everything the medical staff does, tries to poke his nose into their work, and demands details every other minute, please?" She'd seen a few of those, and they'd absolutely been horrible.

"You can drive," she told him then, a little teasing imperiousness threading in her voice. "And carry my bag. Maybe. And not make the staff impossibly paranoid." A perfect eyebrow rose. "Think you can manage that, Mr. Barnes?"

"Why the fuck would I question the people who went to school for that shit? Makes no sense. I'm gonna ask a ton of questions," Bucky warns. "I'm never gonna just sit there and not ask anything because I've never had a baby before and I wanna know what's going on."

When she teases him about driving and carrying her bag, he laughs softly. "Yeah, I'll haul your shit around. And you. And anything you could possibly want or desire or need."

Natasha couldn't help but laugh at his outraged snort. "I don't know. Some men do," she added with a shrug. "Drives their women crazy, too." She sighed at his latter words, unconsciously sliding down in the bed a little.

"I'm...still not really used to that," she confessed, pushing her messy braid back over a pale shoulder. "Being taken care of, I mean." Natasha rested a hand atop Bucky's arm, around her middle, stroking back and forth slightly. "And I'm grateful, I am. It's...it'll just take a while for me to get used to it, is all."

Offering a small smile, the redhead tilted to lean her head against her fiancé's, gently rubbing his forehead with her temple. "...so, be patient with me?"

"I got plenty of patience. They taught me that in Catholic school," Bucky teases. "You know, the like year I went there. Public school is better. Better sports."

And he'd met Steve in public school, too, so it's better by default. He doesn't think he's going to let his kid go to public school, though. Not because it's bad - it isn't - but he doesn't want the attention of the paparazzi all the damn time. Kid should have a chance to grow up without cameras in their face as much as possible.

"But you don't have to worry about a thing. Never again. I've got all of this for you, you know?"

Realizing that talk was probably...pointless, at this juncture, Natasha settled back down against her soon-to-be-husband and closed her eyes, hoping to doze away the rest of the afternoon. Bucky's idea of spending the day in bed was turning out to be a good one, especially since she'd never done so before.

Her breathing slowed, and thankfully her belly was calm, and it wasn't too long before Natasha did indeed slip into a light slumber, a stray ray of warm Pacific sunshine gilding her cheek as she slept. It slowly moved across her face as the afternoon waned, but the redhead never stirred, still too comfortable in her intended's embrace.

Bucky just watches her for a minute, sleeping peacefully, and then he strokes Natasha's hair before cuddling up to go to sleep himself. He meant he was gonna take a day in bed and today's the perfect day to do it. He dozes himself for a while and when he wakes up, Natasha is still quiet and dozing beside him.

"Hey, babe, I think it's dinner time," he says softly. "We slept for a really long time. Do you wanna get up or do you want me to leave you and get up later?"

Natasha stirred at the sound of Bucky's voice, blinking awake with a small yawn. "...dinner time?" God, did she really sleep the entire day? "Uh, get up, I guess." Because now she needed to pee. Another wonderful gift of being pregnant; her bladder sometimes felt like it was the size of a grape. Her cheeks flushed as she admitted, "...gotta make a bathroom run, um, yeah."

She took a few minutes in the lavish bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth, and generally "wake up", considering she'd been asleep for all of the freaking day. It was her own face in the mirror, but her skin frigging glowed, her normally pale cheeks were becomingly flushed, and her eyes were far greener than she'd ever seen before, framed by naturally thick black lashes.

And her breasts, Christ! Full beneath her long ivory gown, they ached something awful, and turning sideways, Natasha definitely noticed that they were almost a third larger than normal, and she'd always been "full-figured", despite her petite frame. She really should have worn a bra to bed, given her bedmate, but didn't she deserve some comfort, too?

Although...opening the bathroom door and getting a nice, long look at the vision waiting for her in that massive platform bed, the reptile part of Natasha's brain idly wondered why she was bothering to wear clothes at all. Because not even Picasso could have done justice to the healthy serving of completely virile make that lounged atop the covers, relaxed and on full display without even realizing it.

It just wasn't fucking fair.

Bucky opens his eyes and sees Natasha in the bathroom so he takes a moment to have a full-body stretch because he's genuinely just a red-blooded male and he wants to show off a little bit in hopes that Natasha likes what she sees. He guesses she likes him well enough that she's gonna marry him but he wants...everything.

"You doing all right in there or are you feeling sick? Because I can go get you some more tea if you need it. It won't take me very long, promise."

He wants to make sure she's all right no matter what.

Still frozen in the bathroom doorway, Natasha finally found her tongue. Again. "--'m good," she managed to get out, clearing her throat a little nervously. Placing a hand to her belly, she added, "All quiet, for now. ...though I might be hungry in a little while." She didn't want him to leap up and immediately dash down to the kitchen.

She didn't really know what to do now; should she get dressed? Sit on the edge of the bed? Go back to "her" room? Instead of any of the above, Natasha meandered to the wide bay windows, standing just shy of the balcony and rubbed her arms, enjoying the prickle of the cool Pacific air. "The view is gorgeous," she observed, long nightgown billowing around her slightly. "I could sit outside all day just to watch the sunset from up here."

Bucky watches her cross over to the window and she's just...beautiful. There's nothing more beautiful in his eyes than Natasha anyway but the pregnancy looks good on her. Her breasts are fuller, there's a little curve to her belly, her skin is glowing.

He gets out of bed and crosses over to her so he can wrap his arms around her from behind. "You could, you know. Stay up here and watch the sunsets. It's not like I'm going to complain because I want you here anyway."

Maybe it's better to ask forgiveness than permission so he leans down and buries his face against Natasha's neck before kissing her. "You could stay here forever."

She heard him get out of bed, but still briefly stiffened in surprise when she felt his arms slide around her. But almost immediately, she relaxed into his hold, and Natasha started to say something about how she could never really be that lazy, but the words froze when she felt Bucky's light scruff rasp against her tender skin.

Oh...

Then came the press of his lips and for some strange, odd reason, Natasha just wanted to melt. The press of skin against hers felt...good, so unfamiliar but perfect just the same, so she suddenly turned in his arms and wound her own around Bucky's neck, only to sway closer, inch up on her toes, and kiss him this time, fully and thoroughly.

After a blitzed thirty seconds, she blinked as she leaned away, and a quiet little, "...okay," left parted lips before she once again took his mouth with hers.

God, the kiss is good and Bucky slides his hands into her hair and buries them deep before kissing her again. This is all he's wanted to do since he met her and especially since she told him she was having his kid. He just wants to be with her and have a relationship with love and companionship and he'd been a little afraid it would never be like that.

(Maybe that was stupid, to think Natasha would never be with him again ever.)

He breaks the kiss a few times just for air and slides his hand down to cup her breast because he just can't fucking help himself.

She mewed and nearly lurched when his hand settled over a breast, because the shock of that touch was electric. Natasha broke their kiss, only far enough to pant, "God, they're so sensitive." But rather than push Bucky's hand away, her back arched, rubbing her body against his, almost needingly. "...and they ache, too..."

Then her arms resumed their coil around his neck, and she kissed him again, and again, and again, finally panting softly against his mouth, their lips parted and wet. "...James," Natasha heard herself moan, bright eyes glazed and almost unfocused. He was there, and beautiful, gilded with the evening's last light, and Natasha felt her belly clench again, this time not because of her pregnancy.

"Please don't regret it," he says softly, covering her mouth for another kiss. If this is what he gets, it's what he gets, and Bucky wants to make the most of it. Her body is so soft under his hands and the knowledge that he's made it that way is intoxicating.

He slides his hands around her back and presses her up close to him, wanting to feel her against him in a way he hasn't been able to since they conceived this kid.

He kissed her again before she could assure him that she didn't regret it, so decided to let him know another way. By taking his other wrist and guiding it to the opposite breast, cupping it with his palm and hers resting over his, sensually rubbing the heavy flesh against his hand, only the ivory silk between skin.

God, but he felt so good against her sensitive body; her whole skin felt hyper-aware, and Natasha dimly knew it had to be her hormones, but Bucky was kissing her so sweetly and so well she didn't, couldn't, find the willpower to care. Off-balance and wanting, Natasha lurched, nearly tripping, and would have tumbled if not for her fiancé's strong arm.

Still tangled with him, she blinked wide eyes into bright blue, and managed to blurt, "--we should probably get back to bed, huh?" Because kissing while lying down was so much easier.

"Shit, you're probably right. We can let dinner wait for a little bit," Bucky says, laughing softly. "Because this is gonna be much better in bed than standing here. You'll be more comfortable if we do that, anyway. I don't care. I could kiss you upside down in the rain and I wouldn't even care about comfort because I was kissing you."

It's sappy but he doesn't care.

He guides Natasha to the bed and lays down, guiding her to lay close to him. "Will you touch me, too?"

"Yes," was her immediate response, holding out her arms the moment she settled back amid the tousled covers. Her gown had ridden up to her knees, and it was an eager leg that rose to coil around the musician's own thigh when he joined her, along with warm arms winding around his shoulders to pull him close.

She wanted his mouth back on hers, and made it so, tugging Bucky over when she fell to her back, whimpering softly into their rising passion. As promised, Natasha let her hands roam, learning his body by touch alone, fingertips dipping into creases and skating over thick muscle beneath velvet skin.

They parted for air and she moaned his name, tilting her head to offer him more.

God, he loves this woman, and he has to keep himself together so she doesn't run away again. Her lips on his feel so good and he would satisfy himself with just that except he's getting everything he wants. His leg is between her thighs and her gown has ridden up so he can feel her soft skin against his.

He's also getting hard because he just can't help himself. Hopefully she's not going to freak out about that.

Bucky reaches for her hands and pushes them over her head while linking their fingers together and rolls his hips against her thigh to get some relief.

Things were getting heated, and Natasha was no different. Her blood was singing happily in her veins, tinting pale skin a soft blush. It surprised her when Bucky linked their fingers, then stretched her hands upwards, but the gesture put an arch in her back that rubbed her heavy breasts against his bare chest, the pale silk whisper-fine between them.

She also couldn't help but respond to his lower adulations, rocking beneath him in perfect counterpoint. They were getting tangled together, a surprising twist from just hours ago, but it felt so good, he felt so good, that Natasha had completely lost all compunction to care.

Bucky breaks the kiss just enough to whisper against her lips, "I want you so much, I love you so much," before rolling his hips against her thigh again. It feels so good to finally express everything he's been feeling and he wants to spend every day of his life touching Natasha just like this. Just days and days of touching the woman he loves like this.

He kisses her again and it's messy, teeth tugging at her lower lip, and she has to know how much he wants her based on how he's moving and the noises he makes.

He was vibrant in her arms, and Natasha's head was already reeling from the intensity of their heated, messy kisses. Bucky's whispered words had her mewling softly, pulling her hands away from his to plunge both into his shaggy hair, feeling her entire body begin to burn, needy.

The sting of teeth in her lower lip made her gasp, and Natasha managed to open her eyes just enough to see him, so close, and she dug her fingers into broad shoulders, whining, "...James, please," in a low, begging voice, pale silk already bunched at her waist. He was rutting against her, fabric still separating skin from skin, and Natasha gave a frustrated little grunt, brazenly yanking at cumbersome cotton.

"Natasha," Bucky murmurs. He doesn't know if she's going to regret this later and that's the only thing sticking in his mind but it's starting to erode after all this kissing. He's wanted her from the moment he saw her, drunk and just out of jail, and he definitely wants her right now when she's fuller with his kid.

"Only if you won't regret it," he murmurs, going back to kiss her. It keeps her from answering right away so maybe that's cheating and he knows that the way he slides his hands under her gown isn't fair either.

The silk beneath the nightgown was just as sleek, but by now uncomfortably damp, and Natasha squirmed beneath her gorgeous lover, feeling his calloused hands course along her sensitive skin. Bucky was kissing her like a dying man, but she was no less eager, licking at his soft lips and whining as they moved together.

When they finally broke apart to gasp for breath, she bit at her lower lip as her hands authoritatively shoving at his cotton bottoms. When she at last had them down over his hips, a small hand took hold of him, gripping tightly, and Natasha shook her head, panting softly.

"I won't," she breathed, stroking him slowly, firmly. "--I just want you so badly right now..."

Bucky manages to get the nightgown off without tearing it, which is a miracle, but he doesn't manage to toss it all the way off the bed before shifting Natasha's legs apart enough to slide into her. She's wet and tight and it's all he can do to not be loud about it but he keeps his moans soft against buried against her neck and shoulder.

"I want you, too," Bucky says softly. "Need you. Have to have you. I love you."

Maybe the last one is a bad idea but if it slips out during sex, he can't really be blamed for it, can he? He pushes into her harder then, wanting to lose himself in her, and cages her in with his arms so she can't slip away.

Her fingernails bit into Bucky's shoulders as he sank into her; the last time she'd done this had been with him, right downstairs, ten weeks ago, after all. A low moan escaped as her body arched, hips lifting of their own accord to seat him deep. It was her body craved, and Natasha let it go; her bare legs wound around his calves and her arms around his torso, silently begging for more.

She still had a thing for his voice, because his words washed over her like warm rain, and Natasha whimpered, feeling her blood begin to boil hotter, and race faster beneath her skin. She panted his name right back, kissing him with a desperation she'd never felt before, clinging as she urged him harder, faster.

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