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jtargaryen18 · 6 days ago

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The House of Shadowed Roses ~ Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Words: 3k

Pairing: Edward (Loosely based off a “A Different Man”) x Live-in Companion Reader M/F

You're a vet-med student taking a gap year to work in a local animal hospital. When the very old apartment building you've been living in is condemned, you have to find another place to live fast. You find a beautiful mansion where the owner, a man with an unfortunate disfiguring condition, says you can live if you agree to run errands for him on occasion. There's a hot handyman who also lives there who doesn't seem to like you, but Edward couldn't be nicer. It's just too good to be true.

What's the old saying? If it's too good to be true, it usually is...

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site.

"White demon, where's your selfish kiss? White demon sorrow will arrange Let's not forget about the fear Black invitation to this place that cannot change While strangely holy, come for a rain Darling" - A White Demon Love Song, The Killers

As you suspected, Edward's home was a sight by the light of day. The stunning white mansion, its pristine walls glowing softly in the sunlight, stood proudly in the center of a sprawling, perfectly manicured lawn. The lush green grass was so uniform and so well maintained that it looked almost like velvet. Surrounding the house were elegant flower beds, bursting with color - roses, hydrangeas, and tulips arranged in perfect harmony, a vibrant contrast to the mansion's crisp white facade.

Strategically placed among the winding stone pathways were intricately shaped topiaries, each sculpted in artful designs, some shaped like spiraling towers, others like playful animals. The scent of fresh blooms fills the air while the towering oak trees at the edge of the property provided a sense of quiet privacy. Looking around, you didn't see any other homes, even off in the distance.

Your heart swelled with hope in your chest as you took in the combination of white mansion, colorful flower beds, and perfectly-formed topiaries that evoked a sense of elegance and timeless beauty. This was your home now and it was a massive upgrade from the sad, now condemned building you just moved out of it. Edward's home, honestly, looked like paradise.

"Can I help you?"

The sound of that deep voice had you turning to find a tall, handsome man with a strong, muscular build that hinted at years of hands-on work. His short sandy hair was slightly tousled, perfectly complementing the well-groomed beard that added a rugged charm to his appearance. What truly stood out to you where his striking blue eyes, the kind that caught the light and held depths of both intensity and warmth. They reminded you of a clear sky on an autumn day. His fitted gray T-shirt clung to his muscular chest and arms, his worn jeans and work boots had a couple of greasy smudges. The toolbelt slung low on his hips completed the look, made you realize that he was a worker here. The man stood there eyeing you too, carrying the confidence of a man who was good at what he did.

Edward hadn't mentioned anyone else.

"Hi there," you said, giving him your name. You held out a hand but he just crossed his muscular arms across the wide expanse of his chest. Awkwardly, you pulled your hand back. Apparently, Edward hadn't mentioned you to him either.

"Can I help you?" he repeated.

"I'm the new tenant," you explained. "I met with Edward about the rooms this week and we agreed I'd move in this weekend."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course he did." You thought he muttered "fuck" beneath his breath.

You weren't sure what this was about. Maybe it didn't even have anything to do with you personally. But his low-key animosity threw cold water on your excitement about moving into your new home.

"I don't expect you to help," you said, in case that made any difference. "He said I didn't need to call and I could move in this weekend... I don't mean to be a bother."

Still looking put out, he marched off in the direction of the house. No welcome. No 'please, let me show you around.' Nothing.

What were you supposed to do? Call Edward to let him know you were there? You didn't know who the handsome bastard that walked away was - he did have a nice ass. But was he about to mess up your arrangement here? If this fell through, you had nowhere else to go.

You stood by your SUV like an idiot in the long elegant drive in front of the house. Did you start moving stuff in? Should you drive back to your current apartment - you only had two days left there - and try to call Edward, speak to him about it.

The man you'd just talked to slammed his way through the front door of the mansion. You'd seen no sign of Edward. Nerves were starting to get the best of you. You were just about to climb back into your car when the front door opened and Edward stepped out onto his front porch, calling your name. Hoping this meant good news, you walked around your vehicle to join him on the porch. His condition made it hard to read his expressions, but you were hoping he'd come out to clear things up.

"Are you ready to move in?" Edward asked. It sounded like he was smiling.

Edward was taller than you remembered, his broad shoulders nearly as wide as the doorway behind him. His long-sleeved T-shirt was pushed up to his elbows, showing off muscular forearms and hinting at strength and power. Another look revealed his entire frame was athletic. Why did that surprise you? Yes, his face drew most of the attention - a face covered in countless small, bulbous tumors that greatly distorted his features. They clustered around his cheeks, chin, and forehead, creating uneven ridges that made it impossible to even guess what his face might look like without the disease.

In the light of day, you realized his left eye was only partially hidden by the overgrowth of skin at his brow. His right eye was striking, a deep, dark blue.The rest of him was untouched by the condition, his thick neck, powerful chest, and heavily-muscled arms gave him an almost unsettling duality.

"Yes," you said, smiling awkwardly. "I met uh..."

"You met Frank Adler," Edward explained. "He helps me around the house, with the cars. He's been my handyman for a couple of years."

Trying to be polite, you nodded but didn't say anything.

"Normally, he's even charming," Edward went on. "Not sure what got into him today." Turning back to the house he asked, "Would you like to see your rooms?"

That's better.

"Yes, please," you said, smiling at your new landlord.

Edward paused, his gaze locked with yours, his holding so much intensity. You weren't sure what the moment meant to him, but you felt like it was significant.

Leading you into the house, your host paused in the foyer, seeming to enjoy the way you stared with wonder at the opulence that surrounded you. You'd seen homes like this on TV but never in real life. The air was rich with the scent of polished wood and aged books, hinting at the decades of history nestled within its walls. There were beautiful flower arrangements everywhere. There were freshly-cut roses in all shades from snowy white to deep blood red. There were other potted plants strategically placed that added life to the dwelling, as if they proved the mansion was a living, breathing entity.

Edward took you from the foyer to a beautiful spiraling staircase that was just beyond it. The wooden stairs gleamed in the sunlight from the high window of the first landing. At the next floor, he turned to the left and stopped in front of a beautiful, heavy oak door.

As Edward opened the door, a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine. "These are your rooms," he said, his voice deep and resonant.

Your new home was done up in varying shades of cornflower blue and elegant, dark wood. Sunlight streamed through the tall, arched windows casting a warm glow over the plush velvet sofa and intricately carved tables around it. You couldn't help but admire the paintings that adorned the walls, each magnificent landscape views with colorful gardens in frames guilded with gold, catching the light in mesmerizing ways. Edward gestured towards the fireplace dominating one corner of the room.

"Nothing like a crackling fire on a chilly night," he said. "It's in good working order and Frank will make sure you always have firewood."

"That's wonderful," was all you could say as you looked around in amazement.

If you thought the living room was something, you weren't even prepared for the bathroom. The clawfoot bathtub was the first thing you noticed, it's gleaming porcelain looked so inviting. In your work as a vet tech, you were often on your feet for hours. How good would it feel to relax in a bath some days, with your favorite scented bath salts and an audiobook playing while you relaxed? Yes, there was a shower unit attached along with a privacy curtain all around it. The best of modernity and old-world charm. The marble countertops shined under the soft lights from the crystal light fixture above.

Finally, he showed you the bedroom, saving the best room for last. It was a sanctuary in royal blue and old gold with a four-poster bed draped in luxurious silk curtains , billowing gently in the breeze from the tall windows on either side. Sunlight filtered through sheer lace curtains, casting patterns on the polished wooden floor. The furniture was beautiful dark wood, a bedside table, a huge wardrobe, and a vanity with heart-shaped mirror and a bench seat that an embroidered cushion top.

"What do you think?" Edward asked as you glanced around.

That it's too good to be true.

You'd be living here with Edward and in exchange, you'd be running errands for him? It didn't seem real.

"Your home is so beautiful," you said in amazement. "And these rooms? I've never seen anything like this in real life."

Edward took a deep breath at your praise. It was obvious he was proud of his home and he should be. Yet, he was studying you hard.

"I feel like there's a 'yes, but' answer coming," he said after a moment, wariness in his right eye.

Truth was best, especially since he'd be your landlord.

"It's just... Are you sure I can't give you something for rent?" you pleaded. "My running errands for you in exchange for living here?"

It was just you... you couldn't read his face. And he didn't have an answer for that. The last thing you wanted to do was insult the poor man. Maybe he was just lonely and looking for companionship? Making someone an offer they can't easily refuse in the way of such a lavish living space didn't hurt. And you needed a place to live.

As the uncomfortable silence stretched out, you knew you had to end it. Be grateful.

"Thank you so much," you told him, smiling. You meant it. "I love these rooms. I'm very grateful I'll be living here with you."

You sensed that answer pleased him. Edwarded nodded, making his way to the door. Before he could leave, you did have a question.

"You mentioned Mr. Adler works for you," you started.

"That's right," he said turning back.

"You said he was a handyman for you? Worked on the cars?" Considering how poorly your first meeting with Frank Adler went, you didn't want to piss him off further. "Is there anything else he does around the house? I'd like to help out as much as I can. I just don't want to step on anyone's toes though. You know?"

"I understand," Edward said quietly. "But I have a cleaning service that comes twice a week. Frank and I usually fend for ourselves in the kitchen. We're not bad. If you want to cook here and there, I'm sure that would be appreciated. But I don't have any expectations for you for any of that."

A cleaning service? For real?

"That's great," you told him. "That answers my question. Thank you!"

"Why don't you get settled in and Frank and I will bring in your things?" Edward asked, heading back into the living room.

You followed him. You didn't have a lot of stuff, but it didn't seem right to not help them. "Thank you. I'm pitching in."

Edward stopped at the top of the stairs. "You don't trust us?"

Something about the way he asked that question made you think he was teasing you. "I trust you," you said with grin. "I'm not sure about Frank though."

The easy sound of his laugh was a warm sound, made you feel better. "Come on."

Edward Lemuel leaned back against the sink, enjoying a tall glass of ice water. They'd just finished moving in his new tenant and it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. She didn't have many things to move in. No furniture pieces. Mostly clothings, boxes of decorations and accessories. Three heavy boxes of books which made him happy because it suggested that she was an avid reader. Yeah, he'd broken a sweat helping her and Frank move everything upstairs but it was totally worth it.

His moment of contentment didn't last. Frank stomped into the kitchen, a surly expression on his face. Edward had an idea of why his employee, partner in crime, and sometimes friend was so pissed off. But he had a feeling he was about to learn exactly why. Stopping in front of him, sweaty and with his hands on his hips, Frank glared him down.

"What the fuck is this?" Frank asked, emphasizing each individual word. "You didn't even let me know about this one." Jerking a thumb roughly in the direction of her rooms, Frank's gaze searched his face.

"That doesn't give you the right to be rude to her," Edward told him calmly. "And it sure doesn't help our cause, does it?"

"Your cause," Frank pointed out. Dropping his head for a moment, he seemed to be collecting his thoughts. "What sort of deal did you make with her? What do you even know about her?"

Edward smiled. Frank was interested. And why wouldn't he be? On top of all of her other impressive qualities, she was beautiful. Very beautiful. Yeah, they were going a different route this time, building on the knowledge they'd been building with the last three girls. Edward was hoping it would be worth it, that he'd finally get everything he'd ever wanted. And he'd make sure Frank was more than compensated for his time and effort.

"She's not from this area," Edward explained. "She works locally. She's taking a gap year from school."

Edward moved to allow Frank to grab a glass from the cabinet by the sink and filled it with water from the tap. "Where does she go to school?"

"The vet-med college," Edward replied. "I think she's studying to be a veterinarian."

Frank's blue-eyed gaze didn't leave him as he downed his water in greedy gulps. Placing the empty glass on the counter, Frank swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. His expression was one of perplexion. "Are you fucking kidding me? A veterinarian?"

Edward nodded.

"This isn't going to work with her," Frank warned in a lowered voice. "Yeah, we've had some luck with a handful of young women I found at the shelter or on the street. That is not this woman. She isn't going to be naive or desperate like them. She sure doesn't look like any sort of addict. It won't work."

Edward didn't agree. "I think with a different approach, things might be just fine."

Frank shook his head. "A different approach?"

"Yeah," Edward said. "She is more... refined. She's exactly what I've been looking for."

Staring at him like he had two heads and six eyes between them, Frank marched around him and back out the kitchen door. "Whatever."

Frank didn't understand right now, but he soon would. The lovely new tennant was perfect, everything deep in his heart that he'd been hoping for. Yes, there'd been other "tenants" and they couldn't have been more different than her. The previous ones were convenient, transactional. But they had shown him that what he wanted wasn't completely out of his reach despite his condition. With the right resources, most people could be bargained with. Maybe, with the right woman, this time would be different.

His new tenant looked at him with such kindness. At times, he could almost forget about his appearance. Maybe...

Edward drained his glass, looking longingly in the direction of her rooms. He would tell himself that he didn't want to get his hopes up, but damn it, his hopes were already up. The young woman in question had more than just surface beauty. She was kind, thoughtful, intelligent. She was everything he could ask for in a relationship if he could just navigate the situation. And he was convinced he could with Frank's help.

She kept asking if there was more she could do to contribute. To feel like she was earning her keep. Edward smiled just thinking about it. His new tenant represented so much more to him than tepid female companionship and parlor tricks in the dark. Edward didn't know a lot about her at the moment but prided himself on being a good judge of character. It was the basis of his infatuation with her and there was no other word for it.

#House of Shadowed Roses #Edward Lemuel #Reader #Frank Adler #Chris Evans #Sebastian Stan #A Different Man #Gifted #Reader x Edward Lemuel #Reader x Frank Adler #You x Edward Lemuel #You x Frank Adler #Dark fics #Capture fantasy

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brunchable · 2 months ago

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𝙄 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 [ 2 ]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Friends to Lovers. SMUT: Touch Hungry Bucky, Kiss Hungry Bucky, Bucky just not getting enough of you, fingering, cunnilingus, Oral [M&F], unprotected piv, creampie. Just PURE making love, no kinks. Summary: It's only been a few hours since you've become official and Bucky want to show you just how much you mean to him. A/N: 2 of 2. And I must say. . . JAYSUS. BON APETITIDDIES.

Part One

You were stiff. You were sore. Your arm was asleep. And you felt fucking fantastic.

Maybe in the movies people woke up entwined in each other's arms after a night of spirited lovemaking, but for you, reality was much more awkward. Your head had somehow become wedged behind Bucky’s shoulder, and both his legs were about to slide off the couch altogether. You untangled yourself as best you could, looking down at him as you moved his limbs out of the way.

Bucky was sleeping peacefully, his dark lashes lying flat against the skin beneath his eyes. They fluttered slightly as you pulled free of him, and he stirred.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled, and turned over so he was facing the back of the couch, still caught in mid-slide towards the floor.

You tried not to laugh. God, he was adorable.

You sat up, arching your back to stretch out the sore muscles. Then your breath caught. What time was it? Holy hell, I’m going to be late.

You stood up quickly, and was seized by an ache between your legs so unfamiliar that you nearly sat back down again. Holy crap. It had been way too long. You almost felt like a virgin again. You rose again shakily, noticing that your whole groin felt sore, and so did your hips—probably from throwing your legs up around his waist. God, what a wanton hussy you were, you thought happily.

You went quietly towards the bathroom, checking the clock on the stove as you walked by. It was nearly eight-thirty. Crap. You were supposed to be at work by nine, or nine-thirty at the latest. you'd have to make the shower a quick one.

You stood under the hot water, letting it pour over your sore muscles. You washed out your hair, lathered up your body and massaged your sore hips as random images from last night invaded your thoughts. Even now you weren't entirely convinced it hadn't all been a dream. Has it really happened? The soreness was real enough. And so were the images flashing through your mind.

Bucky’s body on yours, looming over you, holding your wrists, kissing you with abandon. Taking each breast in his mouth, teasing you with his fingers. Sliding into you, tilting your back and thrusting deeper, faster, harder.

Suddenly a blurry figure appeared on the other side of the glass door. The door slid open and he stood there, looking disheveled from sleep but adorably sexy. And naked, too.

"Hi," he said, a seductive smile curving his lips. His eyes traveled down your naked body, pausing at your breasts and then sliding down to the between your legs where rivulets of water coursed and ran together.

You flushed at the frank inspection but willed yourself not to try to hide from him. You shifted your weight, jutting your hip out provocatively and smiled.

His eyes returned to yours, desire glinting in them. "May I join you?"

You pushed the door back and invited him in. Bucky stepped in and crowded you, not unpleasantly, until your back was up against the tiles. He braced his hands on the wall behind you, and let the water flow over him as he leaned down and kissed you.

You opened to him and kissed him back, winding your hands around his waist and sliding them down his ass, squeezing appreciatively. He smiled into the kiss, enjoying your wandering hands, then pushed forward so your bodies were pressed together, the water slick and warm between you.

"So," he murmured in your ear, his voice barely a whisper above the sound of the water. "So much for that idea."

"What idea was that?" you whispered back, kissing his ear.

"The idea that we could ever be just friends," he said, catching your jaw with his lips as you turned your head. He covered your neck with slow, lingering kisses, trailing his mouth down your and cupping your breast with his hand.

"Oh, I don't know, I think it's a great idea so far," you said coquettishly. "Besides," you joked. "I do this with all my male friends."

He mocked a scowl at you, and gave you that smile that had always melted you. "Well, that's going to have to stop. You're mine now."

He kissed you slowly, his tongue tangling with yours as he teased and tasted, enjoying your mouth.

You kissed him back, licking and tasting and enjoying him until you felt rather than heard a hum of desire, of pure carnal lust, vibrating through him. He was growing hard against your belly, his cock pressing against you urgently.

He lowered his head further and took your nipple into his mouth, licking the soft nub until it grew hard beneath his tongue. Pleasure shot through you, and he turned to lavish the same attention on your other breast. You writhed against the cold tiles at your back, arching into him and sinking your fingers into his hair to hold him to you. He smiled as you moaned with pleasure, and laughed softly when he took your nipple between his teeth and made you suck in a sharp breath.

His cock was as hard as it had been a few hours ago, and it surged in your hand as he took your breasts. You gathered some suds into your palm and grasped him again, feeling the iron-hardness of him beneath the silky skin. You began to stroke, gliding fast and smooth, and he groaned from the pleasure of it, collapsing against you and kissing you between his soft, low sounds of pleasure and need.

You kept stroking and teasing, gliding over him in a steady rhythm, and felt yourself growing warm and slick at how hard he was beneath your fingers. You loved that you were doing that to him, making him want you so much. He groaned, his breath jagged and shallow. He tried to kiss you through his mounting pleasure but he had to break off to breathe, to lose himself in the sensation.

"God, baby," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "So good."

You tried not to focus on him calling you baby, knowing it was only his arousal talking. You focused instead on the intense pleasure that was making him say it. You continued stroking him, changing your hand position so that you pulled up with each stroke, teasingly pulling his skin up over the head each time and sinking down to the base, pleasuring every inch of him. Your other hand cupped his balls and caressed him, gently rolling him around in your fingers as he tensed and surged and seemed to fight against you, against the unbearable pleasure you were causing him.

After a few torturous moments he stopped your hand, his breathing so fast and ragged that he could hardly speak.

“You—don't want—this to end too soon, do you?” he warned, kissing you in between breaths. “Because, my God, you could make me come in seconds if you wanted to.”

“That might be fun,” you said, kissing the edges of his mouth, licking at his lips and his tongue when he opened his mouth to you again.

“For me, yes,” he breathed, breaking away from you. “But I'm not nearly finished with you yet.”

He slipped his hand into your hair and held your head, kissing you with such raw passion, such naked need that you felt a surge of warmth flood between your legs in spite of the cooling effects of the water. He had wrung a soul-shattering orgasm out of you just a few hours ago and yet here you were again, eager for him again. Wanton hussy indeed.

"Do you remember that night, two years ago?" he asked, his voice low and deep. "At the party, when I played that song on the guitar for you, and you asked whether it hurt my fingers to play the steel strings?"

He was watching his own fingers trail over your breasts, over your tightened nipple, down past your navel, as the water trickled over you both.

"Mmm hmmm," you murmured, your eyes closed, lost in the sensation of the water coursing down your body and his hand moving over you.

“And you touched my fingertips…”

Of course you remembered; you'd run your fingers over the roughened pads of his fingertips, and had watched in delight as he'd twitched a little, and then trembled, just a little, at your touch. You'd kept your touch feather-light and soft, drifting over his fingertips and down his fingers a little, feeling the shiver of heightened awareness in your own hands.

Maybe you'd been a little too suggestive, a little too lingering, whispering-touching those parts of him that were supposedly hardened against such sensations—but you'd been unable to stop yourself. His hands had been warm and strong and eminently male, and when he'd stiffened and held his breath, as if willing himself not to react to your seductive touch, you'd felt that shiver of awareness deepen into an intense desire.

Such a seemingly innocent touch, just a friend examining the time-worn calluses of a guitar player's fingertips. . .and yet in that moment, even amongst their friends, even with the music playing loud and the laughter soaring above it, you'd felt like it had been just the two of you in that room, touching each other intentionally for the very first time, your hand tentatively reaching out for his, and his reaching to meet your half way.

“You drove me wild.” he said, leaning to kiss your neck. “I got so hard, I was afraid to move. And after that, I kept thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you with these fingers.” He slipped his hand between your legs and caressed your folds, parting them gently and sliding inside you. “Like this, for instance.”

You moaned and leaned your head against his shoulder, letting him touch you wherever he wanted. His fingers explored you, caressed you, possessed you, expertly as though they, too, knew you were his.

“I just had to touch you,” you breathed against him. “And believe me, this is what I was thinking about too.”

“You stopped me last night,” he murmured, dragging his mouth along your neck. “I wanted to feel you come for me. To finish what you started that night.”

You groaned at the sound of his voice, so low and sexual, so heated with his own desire.

“Let me feel you come for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, licking your earlobe. “Please.”

He gripped your hip and lifted you up against the wall slightly, positioning you so he could slide his fingers deep inside you. He held you firmly around the waist, bracing you against the wall, and thrust into you gently, with first one finger, then two, sliding deeper and deeper each time, stretching you, mimicking the size and power of his cock. His thumb played over your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you as he pressed his forehead to yours and gazed down into your eyes. You gasped and cried out from the overwhelming pleasure of it even as you squirmed beneath his fingers and ached for more.

He braced you against his thigh and pressed against you while his arm steadied you from behind, holding you completely in his grasp. Bucky had such a way of holding you, letting you know that you were going nowhere, making sure you had no desire to be anywhere but in his arms. You felt safe, and secure, and above all, worshiped.

Bucky bent down and kissed you, sliding his fingers into your with a wild, sensuous rhythm that matched the increasing speed of his thumb as it stroked and rubbed and swirled around your aching clit. His hand was so strong, his fingers curving inside you to caress you, to find that super-sensitive inner spot even as he plunged and drove and took. With his thumb circling your clit in a relentless rhythm and his fingers deep inside you, stretching you, claiming you, you felt completely owned by him, by the hand that possessed every inch of you.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers, swirling, tasting, mutely revealing that he had had another fantasy, too. The thought of his mouth on you, his tongue tasting you, torturing you, swirling over your clit as you writhed beneath it made you go weak in the knees.

Bucky broke away from the kiss and began trailing kisses down your neck, your breasts, lowering himself to his knees in front of you while bracing your hips against the tiles with his strong hands.

"Did I mention what it did to me the first time your tongue touched mine?" he whispered devilishly.

He looked up at you so intently, his beautiful blue eyes blazing as the water streamed over his shoulder and down the contours of his chest. You gazed down at him, and for the second time this morning questioned whether all this could actually be happening. This gorgeous, virile man gripping you, kneeling before you, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It couldn't be real, could it?

Then he lowered his lips to your and you knew it was.

Sensation tore through your touch, so delicately gentle at first, and you arched against the wall with a startled cry. You reached down and gripped his shoulder, steadying yourself on one foot as he brought you to your leg up slowly, gently and eased it over his shoulder. The sight of it alone nearly made you come. He moved so languidly, so sensuously, positioning you better so he could enjoy your all the more.

He closed his mouth over your clit and kissed it luxuriously, his lips moving as though he were kissing your mouth. His tongue swirled over you in large, sensuous circles and he groaned against you, tightening his grip on your hip as you moaned against the sudden overwhelming pleasure of it. The tip of his tongue darted out to flick against your rapidly as he looked up at you again, watching your pleasure, his eyes smiling at you as if he knew precisely how good he was making you feel. Then he fell on you again, his tongue roaming over you, tasting you, luxuriating in your folds and dipping to lap at your entrance.

“Oh my, g-god. Bucky—”

You bucked against him and cried out as his tongue slipped into your and pulsed there, gently, savouring you. Your hand sank into his wet hair and as you gripped his head, you were rewarded with a muted chuckle and a more intense forward surge of his tongue inside you. He liked the moans he wrought from you. He liked being able to make your cry out and seize him, your head thrown back in agonizing pleasure.

And fuck did you like it, too.

"Oh God," you breathed, your heart thundering in your chest. "My God, that feels so good..."

He withdrew from your and slid his tongue up to torture your aching clit, and just when you began to miss the feel of him inside your he gently pushed his fingers into your again and began to thrust.

Pleasure soared through you and you cried out even louder, and the leg draped over his shoulder began to tremble. His tongue circled your clit again, deliciously slowly, as his fingers slid into you over and over again, a sensual, primitive rhythm that made you want to grind your hips against the pleasure.

“I'm coming,” you whispered urgently. “You're going to make me come…”

His fingers thrust deeper and faster and he began to lick you so quickly, with such a throaty groan of pleasure that you felt your orgasm rise, terrifyingly fast and sharp, making you cry out in increasing, panting breaths until you shattered, coming violently around his fingers and that sensuous, irresistible tongue. You shuddered with an aching cry and trembled from the spasms he sent rippling through you. Your body curled forward as you gripped him tighter, your fingers pulling on his hair from the pressure.

He removed your leg from his shoulder gently as you continued to shudder, feeling aftershocks of pleasure shiver through you. He got to his feet and helped you stand, pressing himself against your and nuzzling your neck.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, your voice shaking. your whole body shaking. “That was incredible.”

“That...was just the prelude,” he whispered, kissing you. “I haven't even started pleasuring you yet.”

God, he was going to kill you. Death by orgasm, you thought happily. What a way to go.

He leaned to turn off the water, but he stilled his hand. He looked back at you with a questioning expression, and then understood. You pulled him back towards yourself and he went willingly, stepping back under the stream of water, kissing you deeply, his hands roaming greedily over your body.

You weren't done with him. He had made you feel like a goddess, worshiped, cherished, adored.

You broke off the kiss and began trailing your lips down his neck, his collarbone and chest, enjoying the warmth of the water trickling past your mouth. His chest muscles tensed as you kissed them, and as you moved your lips slowly down his abdomen you felt his whole body go rigid with anticipation. You sank to your knees in the tub and brushed kisses along his navel, his hip bones, and he put his hands on your shoulders to steady himself. Water coursed over both of you, and you delighted in it, closing your eyes against the spray.

“Baby,” Bucky said softly, barely audible above the water.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. He was about to say something but you smiled and glanced away, focusing instead on the head of his cock, hard and urgent in front of you. He was thick and beautiful, and still as hard, maybe even harder, than he had been when you'd teased him with your hands.

“I want to taste you,” you said playfully. “All of you.”

You leaned forward and gently licked the swollen tip of his cock. He inhaled sharply, his whole body tensing, and you smiled up at him, letting him know this was for your pleasure as much as for his. You swirl your tongue around the head, taking it into your mouth and suckling gently, teasing it. The skin was soft and smooth, stretched deliciously tight from the hardness of his erection.

You let your tongue play over it, dipping into the opening, making him moan. You drifted your tongue along the ridge, and down to the sensitive skin just beneath the head, licking and tasting, nipping and kissing.

You looked up at him, and his dark eyes were wild with desire. You smiled, and ran your tongue up and down the length of him, ending at the head and flicking at it delicately, teasingly. He moaned softly, his breathing starting to grow rapid. You rose up slightly to take the whole length of him into your mouth and sucked him, long and hard.

He let out a gasp and braced himself against the wall with one hand, his other hand gripping your shoulder.

“Oh fuck—Baby...”

You slid your mouth over his shaft, deeper, deeper, and slid back up the length of him. Your hands came around and gripped his ass, pulling him towards you. He staggered forward slightly as you took him into your mouth again, luxuriously taking in his entire length, sucking, licking, tasting as you went. The sensation of him in your mouth was almost as overwhelming as his first entrance into your body had been, so unfamiliar but so right at the same time.

You caressed his balls with one hand as you played your tongue over his cock. He groaned, his breathing jagged now, his cock harder than ever. His hand moved from your shoulder to sink into your wet hair, and he gripped your head with barely restrained urgency. Gently he guided your head closer to him as you sucked. You lowered yourself onto him and slowly sucked your way back up, your mouth gripping him, your cheeks hollowing, as your tongue slid over him with each pass.

His hips began to move as he started to match your rhythm, thrusting into you, meeting your mouth. Bucky gripped your head more firmly and held your head still, driving into you gently.

You let your hand fall and you sat back on your haunches, enjoying the feeling of him sliding in and out of your mouth, controlling his own pleasure, taking what he wanted, and what you were so willing to give. Yet you could tell he was holding back, wanting to thrust harder and faster but restraining himself and settling for a smoother, slower pace.

For you. Bucky was holding back for your sake. This passionate, soulful, virile man was holding back his own pleasure because he wanted to be gentle with you.

The very thought of it excited you, and you increased your own rhythm, encouraging him, moaning with pleasure as he drove into you. You sucked harder, faster, turning your gaze up to him with an urgent plea in your eyes. Faster. Deeper. Now, my love.

And he understood.

Bucky groaned, and stepped forward. His hand clenched in your hair and he began to move, faster and harder, plunging deeper, holding your head as he thrust into your mouth with urgent, rhythmic strokes. He slid in and out of your mouth as if through warm honey, and you felt and heard his pleasure mounting with every ratcheted breath and every desperate moan that escaped his lips.

His eyes watched your with rapt adoration and abject lust, and you could tell that the sight of your taking him fully into your mouth, of your sucking him with pure, greedy abandon and complete acceptance, was pushing him closer to the edge as much as the intense pleasure of your tongue on his cock was. Or more.

He tensed as his rhythm grew faster, his breathing harder, until you felt him tighten and strain so much that you felt certain he was going to spill himself into your mouth. But at the last moment he cried out and pulled back, his cock slipping out of your mouth quickly. He stood still, breathless, his eyes closed as if willing his orgasm to retreat. Water sliced down his neck and chest, and finally he let out a slow, jagged moan of a breath and opened his eyes. He looked down at you wildly, and reached for you,helping you to your feet.

“Jesus,” he said breathlessly, staring at you as he tried to catch his breath. “I can't...I can't believe how goddamn good that felt. You brought me so close, so fast, I almost couldn't stop it.”

“Why did you?” you asked, running your finger along his jaw. “I wanted to feel you come for me.”

He groaned against you, his hands roaming over your body. “I told you, I'm not nearly done with you yet.”

He kissed you hungrily, his cock surging against your violently as your bodies met. you could feel him moving against you, his cock rubbing against you,and you knew how badly he wanted to be inside you again.

As badly as you wanted him inside you again.

He stepped back, his breath still ragged, and pressed his forehead to yours as he closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

“You're not done yet, huh?” you teased gently, letting your fingers sink into his wet hair as you kissed his neck.

“Not nearly.”

“But I have to go to work. Maybe if I'm lucky you'll be here when I get home?”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

He reached to turn off the water and stepped out of the shower, turning to help your step over the wall of the tub. You threw your robe on and cinched the belt as he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. You caught him grinning at you, and it was so clear what he was thinking that it made your laugh.

“What?” you demanded, squeezing the excess water out of your hair with a hand towel. “What are you smiling at?”

Bucky wetted his lips with his tongue, “Fuck it. You're just going to have to be late for work. Come here…”

“Hey!” your eyes widened playfully, jumping away from him. “Are you trying to kill me? Stop!”

Bucky untied your robe and you yelped, trying to slap his hands away. He just kept advancing on you, grinning devilishly. You turned and scampered away from him with a squeal of delight.

He followed behind, still grasping for the robe. You shrieked and laughed and ran towards the bedroom, and he followed, catching up to you and pushing you onto the bed with a resounding crack of the bed frame.

You laughed as he tumbled on top of you, but he silenced you with his mouth, kissing you hungrily as he impatiently pushed your robe aside. His breath was ragged as he nudged your legs apart with his knee, his need too great for the slow, sensual lovemaking of last night. He held his cock against your entrance and smoothly thrusts into you and moaned against your mouth, and you wrapped your legs around him to draw him deeper.

He plunged into you, covering your body and your mouth with the same hungry possession. You were still so warm and wet, so exquisitely ready for him that he filled you easily, driving you relentlessly as he tasted your tongue, your lips, your neck, and groaned from the pleasure your body was giving him.

You tensed around him and he moaned breathlessly, a throaty, male sound of pure ecstasy. He pounded into you, falling into a steady rhythm born of raw, primitive need. Your body tightened around him with every thrust, and waves of pleasure rippled through you, building in intensity up to an almost unbearable pressure, a delicious heat that made you moan into his mouth as he kissed you.

He rose up, his arms braced beside you, to look down as he stroked and withdrew and breathed out his pleasure while his eyes glowed pure heat. He grabbed your rear, tilting one hip up towards him, entering you on such an angle that a new kaleidoscope of pleasure bloomed throughout you. He gripped you possessively, driving you deeper and faster and harder. His eyes burned, glowing like obsidian, hot and wild and almost frenzied with desire.

“Baby,” he groaned, his eyes pinning you, claiming you, as though he were branding you with your heat.

You're mine...

Your first time together had only been hours ago, but it was as if you had been lovers for years...every fluid flexing of his hips against you hit just the right spot, every deep, powerful thrust of his cock stretched your pussy with a familiar, almost expected surge of pleasure.

“Yes—oh god yes, Bucky—fuck me,” you breathed.

Two simple words and suddenly he was on the edge...buried so deep inside you, thrusting, plunging, your breasts pressed against his chest, the pleasure roaring through his body.

Suddenly he wanted to take you, hard. He wanted to fuck you with abandon, the eyes-closed, head-back, moaning-out-loud kind of sexual abandon that he had so rarely experienced in his life, but which was crashing through his body and mind right now.

He wanted this woman...he wanted to own you, to take you, to claim your body as his....he wanted to fuck you until he'd emptied his balls into you, feeling your pussy clenching and spasming in orgasm around his cock as he came, as you came, as you came together.

He withdrew from you quickly, barely able to catch his breath, and, as if you could read his thoughts, you turned onto your stomach just as his trembling hands guided your hips over. Your hair spilled over your bare back and your ass curved out so seductively it was all he could do not to cum right there, all over your smooth skin. But his cock knew what it wanted, and he pulled you forward to slide into the heaven of your pussy, so wet and tight and swollen for him.

He cried out when he took your again, his cock parting your folds and filling you so completely. The feel of him stretching you, the crest of his head pressing against your from this new angle...you felt a tremor of pleasure ripple through you and knew you were close, as close as he was. When he leaned over you and began to kiss your shoulders you shuddered, and when he began to thrust you buried your face in the pillow and moaned.

Your moans of pleasure filled the room and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to last, begging his aching cock not to explode just yet. . .this pace, these quick short strokes as his hips slapped against your ass, your body moving with his every thrust. . .It was almost too much to bear. Bucky buried his faced in your sweet-smelling hair and let his cock plunge as it would, faster and faster, making him shake, making him breathless, making him feel like nothing but a desperate cock as he fucked you.

And fucked you. And fucked you, as you had begged him to...

You could only whimper now, lost to the pleasure of his man taking you like this, fucking you so wildly, almost savagely. The pleasure he was taking from your body, his moans and groans and the growls of pleasure you could feel against your back and in the warm breath at your ear. . . it was pure, primal lust.

You felt worshiped beneath him, as if every thrust of his hungry cock was a tribute to you, every growl and sharp breath an oath. He was fucking you, mindlessly, and yet every part of him was attuned to you, touching you, adoring you.

As his pace grew even faster, his thrusts shallower, you could sense he was about to come, and you felt your muscles tighten around him to heighten his pleasure and hers. His thrusts were so powerful that you felt the orgasm rising in you and you closed your eyes, lifting your head back so he could slide his hand into your hair, gently holding your neck and kissing your jaw with breathy, open-mouthed kisses.

“Oh, God Bucky...I'm coming,” you moaned. “I'm coming.”

“Yes...cum for me baby....cum on my cock.”

“Cum with me....please....I want you to cum inside me, please....please....”

And he could withstand it no more.

Pleasure detonated through him as his orgasm spasmed throughout his body, wracking him with wave after wave of euphoric release. He cried out your name as he thrust and bucked against your flesh, driving his cock deeper and deeper as he came and came and came. It felt like he would never stop cumming, and when he felt your orgasm tear through your pussy and clench his cock in waves, he thought he might black out from the sheer ecstasy of it.

You slammed back against him as the first spurts of cum began to fill you, and felt your ravaged pussy begin to spasm again and again, milking his cock, pulling his cum deeper into you, flooding you with ripples of pleasure. You moaned and writhed, riding the crest of one orgasm only to feel a second one begin to climb and then crash over you. Breathless, almost sobbing from the pleasure, you let him hold you as he continued to pound into you, draining his balls into you at his will, lost in the utter bliss of a man taking a woman in the most primal way.

When he could bear it no longer, when his exquisitely sensitive cock throbbed within you and the pleasure bordered on pain, he stilled, finally, and shuddered. Sharp spasms of pleasure shot through him as his cock surged one last time within you, his aching balls emptying every last ounce of come. Bucky was almost lightheaded, his chest heaving, sweat glazing his skin as he withdrew his hand from your hair and ran it down the center of your back, needing to touch you, needing to feel your heated skin. You were breathless too, your back moving beneath his hand as you lay your head down and tried to catch your breath.

You felt him withdraw from you, and your pussy rebelled, clenching to keep him there, as if pleading with him not to go. Bucky groaned softly against your ear as he pulled out and fell on the bed beside you, his arms surrounding you and pulling your back against him. You fit perfectly together, and every muscle in your body relaxed as you snuggled into him and breathed out a contented sigh. You felt his lips on the shell of your ear, kissing softly, felt his slowing breath against your skin as his soft sounds of contentment and pleasure hummed in his throat.

This is heaven, you thought. Pure heaven. your pussy twitched and tingled as you felt his warm come beginning to slip down your inner thighs. His strong arms surrounded you, his soft lips murmured and whispered and kissed, his spent cock nestled against the curve of your ass.

“There was something I wanted to tell you, remember?” he murmurs, his words brushing warmly against your skin as he kisses a path down to your shoulder. “Last night… something I wanted to say to you. Something I wanted you to know.”

You shift slightly, turning to look at him, your heart pounding as you search his eyes, barely able to breathe.

“Tell me,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea.

His gaze softens, an unmistakable warmth filling his expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

“I love you.”

The words settle between you, simple but perfect, like they were always meant to be there. Your heart feels like it’s soaring, every nerve in your body alive with the thrill of it, of finally hearing what you’d been aching to hear.

You break into a smile, biting your lip, feeling giddy and light, and without a second thought, you lean forward, kissing him softly, your hand finding his as you whisper back, “I love you too.”

And as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that feels like home, you realize that, for the first time, everything feels right.

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