Every little noise she makes has him greedy for more and when she whispers in Russian against his mouth, he pulls her leg higher still so it sits just above his waist and opens her more for him. He keeps his arm there, pinning it, and thrusts into her harder while using his lips to suck a dark mark at the hollow of her throat.
He's close himself in spite of how different it is this way and he thinks it's because he can take his time and kiss her while he's in her; the other times had been too quick for his liking.
"I love you," he says softly, muffled against pale skin. "And I won't stop."
He pulled her up higher and spread her open further; Natalia's back arched and she gave a soft cry at the sheer intensity of their lovemaking, shivering and clutching at Bucky's arms in the wake of his dual assault. The pain of his lips and teeth at her throat coupled with the ebb and thrust of his body into hers was intoxicating, and the murmured declaration against her fluttering pulse sent her right over the edge, falling completely apart in his arms.
Her strong bare leg tightened around his hip, and Natalia gasped her pleasure at his ear, holding him against her while she quaked. While not as violent as before, it nevertheless went on and on and on; she thought she might never come down from that blissful high. Her heart was still racing when she regained a small sense of herself again, and she instantly sought his mouth with hers, her body still greedy for his, wanting to share the same magnificent pleasure he'd given her.
Natalia whispered his name in her low alto, running her nails over his skin a little bit sharper, pausing to grip at his waist as she kissed him over and over, squirming in his grasp.
Feeling her tighten around him and hearing her gasp out in pleasure is more than enough to get him started but what tips him over the edge is Natalie kissing him long and deep. He thinks to himself he'll have to try this again sometime and that thought hangs there for only a moment before there's nothing but white-hot pleasure before his eyes shut and his vision goes black.
It takes him a moment to come back down, panting heavily and heart racing fast. He feels like he's run a marathon and he presses his forehead against hers, gasping for breath between soft words.
"How do you say I love you in Russian?" Inane question when he's still deep in her but he wants to know. He needs to know. When she's being tender, she uses Russian and he thinks it must mean more to her than the English words.
She held him through it, shivering as Bucky stiffened in her arms, caught his breath on a short gasp, then shuddered into her, her leg locking him in place, refusing to let him go. They were both still trying to catch their breath, foreheads resting against the other, Natalia stroking her lover's dark hair with tender fingertips, tingling in every place they were pressed together.
The question made her smile, and before she could think about it too much, she answered quietly, "'Ya lyublyu tebya, Natalia.'" Her fingers smoothed over his cheekbone, and she nuzzled his nose with hers. "You'll need to work a little on your accent, though. You've got too much Inner City in you to pass for a native, moya zvezda."
"Ya lyublyu tebya, Natalia," he says, grinning at her a little. "My accent's that bad, huh? Probably means I need to take lessons or something. Can't imagine where I'd do that."
It's probably his last night with her and he doesn't want to think about that. He wants to pretend that they'll be like this for the rest of their lives and that the war's a temporary inconvenience. He kisses her forehead softly and reluctantly pulls away from her to roll onto his back.
"C'mere, Natalia. We better rest up if we're going to get pictures done before we fly to Germany. Don't want to have dark circles."
It was a silent thrill, hearing her name in his rough, Brooklyn voice. One she knew she'd cherish for the rest of time, no question. She smirked back to his grin, and stole a noisy kiss from her disheveled lover before he kissed her forehead and shifted onto his back, flopping across her bed with a soft grunt.
She wasted little time in snuggling close, wiggling the covers down beneath them both to pull them up over their bare skins. "Hold me close," she entreated, working her way into the crook of his arm and draping her smaller limb over his chest, burying her face in his neck to hide her misty eyes.
"I want to sleep in your arms all night long." A small, involuntary tremor marred her voice. "...and no more nightmares. Not with you here."
"You get nightmares?" It shocks him a little, mostly because he's never known anyone to get them outside of little kids and some of the people who'd come back from the war. Not this war, though - not enough people were coming back yet - but the one before.
"What can I do? Just hold you?" It suddenly worries him that she gets them and he wants to know both why and how to ease them. They won't see each other after tomorrow morning but there's a part of him that hopes she might wait for him and he can...start again. He rubs her back lightly.
"You don't have to worry about anything, Natalia. Moya lisichka...is that right? Is moya my?"
"Nightmares" wasn't perhaps exactly the correct term; memories came a hell of a lot closer. She seldom slept, and rarely deeply, or she exhausted herself to the point where her sleep would be so deep that the hellish images from her childhood couldn't creep into her subconscious and torment her all over again. She hadn't meant to mention them now; it had been a reflex, brought about by the unearned tenderness of a certain American soldier.
"...sometimes," she whispered back, soft in the dimness. But she had to smile to his earnestness over linguistics, and gave him a gentle tweak. "It's close enough. Keep practicing, you'll sound like a Cossack in no time." Natalia pulled the sheet and blanket up over them both, cocooning them in its gentle softness and warmth.
"They're just bad dreams, James." She arched into his stroking hand, already so soothed by his mere presence. And sincerity. "They used to be really bad, when I was just a child, but every now and then, something creeps out of that dark place and keeps me awake at night."
"I'm here now," Bucky murmurs, kissing her temple as he does. "And I won't let anything hurt you. I'll keep you safe."
Maybe it's a little idealistic of him since they're both going to war and not likely to see one another again but while they're in her bed, he wants to pretend that he can be here to soothe her hurts and hold her close when her dreams scare her awake.
"I take care of what's mine, Natalia, and you're mine. Go to sleep so you look picture perfect tomorrow and let me deal with the monsters under the bed."
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no subject
He's close himself in spite of how different it is this way and he thinks it's because he can take his time and kiss her while he's in her; the other times had been too quick for his liking.
"I love you," he says softly, muffled against pale skin. "And I won't stop."
no subject
Her strong bare leg tightened around his hip, and Natalia gasped her pleasure at his ear, holding him against her while she quaked. While not as violent as before, it nevertheless went on and on and on; she thought she might never come down from that blissful high. Her heart was still racing when she regained a small sense of herself again, and she instantly sought his mouth with hers, her body still greedy for his, wanting to share the same magnificent pleasure he'd given her.
Natalia whispered his name in her low alto, running her nails over his skin a little bit sharper, pausing to grip at his waist as she kissed him over and over, squirming in his grasp.
no subject
It takes him a moment to come back down, panting heavily and heart racing fast. He feels like he's run a marathon and he presses his forehead against hers, gasping for breath between soft words.
"How do you say I love you in Russian?" Inane question when he's still deep in her but he wants to know. He needs to know. When she's being tender, she uses Russian and he thinks it must mean more to her than the English words.
no subject
The question made her smile, and before she could think about it too much, she answered quietly, "'Ya lyublyu tebya, Natalia.'" Her fingers smoothed over his cheekbone, and she nuzzled his nose with hers. "You'll need to work a little on your accent, though. You've got too much Inner City in you to pass for a native, moya zvezda."
no subject
It's probably his last night with her and he doesn't want to think about that. He wants to pretend that they'll be like this for the rest of their lives and that the war's a temporary inconvenience. He kisses her forehead softly and reluctantly pulls away from her to roll onto his back.
"C'mere, Natalia. We better rest up if we're going to get pictures done before we fly to Germany. Don't want to have dark circles."
no subject
She wasted little time in snuggling close, wiggling the covers down beneath them both to pull them up over their bare skins. "Hold me close," she entreated, working her way into the crook of his arm and draping her smaller limb over his chest, burying her face in his neck to hide her misty eyes.
"I want to sleep in your arms all night long." A small, involuntary tremor marred her voice. "...and no more nightmares. Not with you here."
no subject
"What can I do? Just hold you?" It suddenly worries him that she gets them and he wants to know both why and how to ease them. They won't see each other after tomorrow morning but there's a part of him that hopes she might wait for him and he can...start again. He rubs her back lightly.
"You don't have to worry about anything, Natalia. Moya lisichka...is that right? Is moya my?"
no subject
"...sometimes," she whispered back, soft in the dimness. But she had to smile to his earnestness over linguistics, and gave him a gentle tweak. "It's close enough. Keep practicing, you'll sound like a Cossack in no time." Natalia pulled the sheet and blanket up over them both, cocooning them in its gentle softness and warmth.
"They're just bad dreams, James." She arched into his stroking hand, already so soothed by his mere presence. And sincerity. "They used to be really bad, when I was just a child, but every now and then, something creeps out of that dark place and keeps me awake at night."
no subject
Maybe it's a little idealistic of him since they're both going to war and not likely to see one another again but while they're in her bed, he wants to pretend that he can be here to soothe her hurts and hold her close when her dreams scare her awake.
"I take care of what's mine, Natalia, and you're mine. Go to sleep so you look picture perfect tomorrow and let me deal with the monsters under the bed."