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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.

It's never been like this for him, either, except the last time he had sex with Natasha. There was no one in between, either, and Bucky is pretty sure there's never going to be anyone else ever again unless Natasha decides she's done with him.

"God, you make me feel good," he says, moving his hips faster as he does. He can't get his hand between them to touch her so he tries to roll his hips in such a way that she gets some stimulation anyway and if he beats her there, he can just focus on her afterward; he's not going to leave her hanging.

For Natasha, sex had never held this sort of urgency, this need to reach the pinnacle of pleasure together, and Alex had hardly, if ever, bothered to ensure hers before his own. What Bucky was giving to her now, however, was magnificent, and Natasha had the idea that it wasn't only her hormones making her this needful.

Sex with Alex had been stoic, planned, and routine. This, however, bordered on wild; her legs around James' waist, fingernails digging into different ink etched into his back, both of them gasping against the other's mouths, and his body delving into hers with every powerful arch of his hips, driving her quite out of her mind.

Natasha dimly heard the large headboard thunk the wall, not quite hard enough to chip the paint due to the size of the massive bed, but the realization that they were moving it with their lovemaking was enough to have her gasping, shaking from her impending climax even as she tightened around his thrusting cock, feeling her loins roil and not from her pregnancy.

Bucky doesn't want to be smug exactly but knowing he can make Natasha come from just this really is a turn-on. So is the thud of the headboard against the wall. He doesn't think he's ever had sex good enough to rock the bed this hard.

He reaches for her hands and pins them up above her head, threading his fingers with hers. It feels good to know Natasha isn't going to pull away from him and wants him there, needs him there, and he doesn't think he's ever going to be able to give her up.

But he doesn't have to and that thought is enough to tip him over the edge too and he's coming, hard.

James pinned her hands above her head, and just that small bit of restraint was enough to throw Natasha over the cliff and into a mind-shattering climax, her entire body going rigid for a breathless moment, then every muscle spasming all at once, bucking her hips against Bucky's thrusts as she squeezed him tightly. In the throes of her own orgasm, she felt him stiffen above her, convulse, then tremble his own release into her, his guttural groan the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard.

When she was able to breathe yet again, Natasha went boneless, languishing against the stirred sheets as she heard her heartbeat still galloping about in her chest, and her lower body felt as if it'd just been poured out of a blender. But molten gold still glittered beneath her skin, and small tremors of pleasure still feathered over her sensitive skin. She was tangled with her lover, both of them sweaty and spent.

And she had no urge to move, not just yet.

"God, I love you. You're the best I've ever had," Bucky gasps and it's honestly the truth and not just something to say in the afterglow. He releases Natasha's hands but he doesn't roll off her, not yet, and just enjoys the soft feel of her beneath him.

"Poke me when you're ready for me to move," Bucky says. "But right now I don't think my bones are gonna work. Nothing's working except my mouth, apparently, because that never stops."

This has been what he was after all along with her, just this.

Her amused chuckle was a breathless laugh, because honestly, Natasha didn't have the strength enough to even lift an arm, just now. She did lower her lashes and let her lover's voice wash over her, because he was right: even if he was in traction and ended up a quadriplegic, he'd still babble a mile a minute.

"No," she agreed, voice still airish, "it really doesn't." She finally managed to get one hand working, and gently threaded it through Bucky's dark hair. "Do your bandmates know you babble like this? Your sister said you've never been one to hold your tongue."

"It's a known issue," Bucky says, laughing softly. "But I don't say the same kinds of things to other people. Just to you." He's just impossibly happy and he hopes that Natasha is too because if she's not, he'll do anything to make that happen.

"Was it good?"

Maybe a stupid question to ask since they both came and now they're too exhausted to move but Bucky has to know because the last time they had sex, they'd ended up...not even broken up because they weren't together but on bad terms and he doesn't want that.

"Oh?" That admission brought another breathy chuckle. "Lucky me." It was intended as mild sarcasm, but there was still a grain of truth in it. Natasha knew she was incredibly lucky, given the circumstances. Things could have been much, much worse, after all.

Then Bucky asked that, and Natasha blinked, considering the question. She couldn't answer right away, mainly because she didn't know how to answer.

After a few moments of silent thought, however, she finally sighed - in contentment, not resignation - and nodded, a small smile on her lips. "Yeah. Yes, James, it was good."

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