Mourning

"What would James do, if your positions were reversed?"

Steve looked up from his whiskey glass, taking in the wreckage of the bar. "I don't know. Probably go to a bar. Get drunk. Find the prettiest girl in the bar to talk to, to take his mind off of it."

Peggy allowed the briefest hint of a smile to cross her lips. "You think I'm the prettiest girl in the bar, do you, Captain Rogers? Is that an appropriate way to look at a superior officer?"

"I didn't mean to offend... I'm sorry... Forget I said anything..." Steve stammered. Thoroughly embarrassed, Steve tried to look away before Peggy's laugh brought his gaze back to her.

"I'm only teasing you. Besides, as you may have noted, I'm the only woman in this bar." Peggy said as she reached across the table to gently place her hand on his. "You've already established that you can't get drunk. And you are in a bar. Or what's left of one. Talking to a woman. So, what would James do next? Just talk?"

"No, probably not."

"What then?"

"Take her dancing, I suppose."

"Hmmm. I'm afraid I don't exactly have my dancing shoes on. And the band isn't exactly playing" Peggy said. "But perhaps we could consider taking this conversation somewhere more comfortable?"

"There really isn't anywhere on the base... We could go to the barracks I suppose. I have private quarters. But would that be... I mean... would it be..."

"Now then, if I'm not safe with Captain America protecting me, I'm not safe anywhere, am I?"

"That's not what I meant. I meant, what about your reputation?"

"Steve, I suggest you let me worry about my own reputation. Shall we?"

Steve began to walk towards the barracks. As she stood up, Peggy admired the view. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist. His biceps and triceps were still clearly displayed, even thru his uniform shirt. And his backside was clearly defined in the slacks, the muscles tensing and releasing as he walked.

* * *

The two walked to the barracks in silence. When they entered Captain Rogers' private quarters, Steve opened the door, and then held it open for Peggy to enter first. Following her, he fumbled for the light switch, and when the lights came on, was startled to see Peggy standing mere inches away from him. She had already dropped her overcoat, letting it puddle on the ground by her feet.

"Peggy, what are you..."

"Steve... when a woman accompanies you back to your private quarters, I assure you, she did not do so just to talk to you."

"But... Is this appropriate... Am I doing something wrong to...?"

"Captain Steven Grant Rogers, you're not doing anything *to* me. More's the pity, because I wish you would. Now, would you shut up and kiss me already?"

With that, Peggy melted into him, pulling herself to him by placing her hands on his extremely well-defined shoulders, and tilting her head up to meet his. He was considerably taller than her, but not so much so that a kiss would require gymnastics. Pressed up against him, she could feel the solid muscle of his chest, tight against the more yielding flesh of her breasts. Peggy could feel a slight trembling within him.

"He's actually afraid," Peggy thought to herself. This man, who had faced death countless times, and who had faced literally superhuman odds against him, was frightened of her.

Looking into his face, Peggy could see the mixture of desire and fear crossing his face. His brilliant blue eyes, normally steel with determination, were clouded by uncertainty. She knew she hadn't misread him. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. So, why was he so hesitant?

Pushing herself up, she crossed the final inches between them, pressing her lips against hers. His lips parted as she kissed him, and after a few moments, her tongue slipped between her lips, gently probing, seeking the inside of his mouth. But although they had parted enough for him to return the kiss, they were still too tight for her to gain entrance, and while her hands were still clutching at his shoulders, his hands remained at his sides. Had she made a mistake?

"Steve," she breathed, breaking the kiss but keeping close to him, "What's wrong?"

"Bucky," he began before being cut off.

"Is dead. He was your friend, and mine, and he's dead. But we're alive, Steve. Alive, and with appetites and desires and needs. And he wouldn't want you to cut yourself off from that." Peggy hesitated, seeing that there was still an objection in his eyes. "But that's not the real reason. You know this is no disrespect to his memory, and that he would be happy for you. So, what are you really afraid of?"

"What if... what if I hurt you, Peggy? I couldn't ever live with myself if that were to happen."

She almost laughed, but quickly realized that would kill the mood.

"Captain Rogers, I am not a delicate flower. And you are not a monster. You're a man. A good man, and one with extraordinary abilities, but a man. And I am woman. Who wants you."

She peeled his uniform jacket off his shoulders, and grabbed at the front of his shirt, delicate and nimble fingers quickly unknotting his tie, undoing buttons, and parting the khaki fabric. Beneath it, his white undershirt did a poor job of hiding his massive pectoral muscles, and the well-defined abs beneath them.

"Peggy..." His voice was breathy and slightly broke as he spoke her name, half-asking what she was doing, half-pleading with her not to stop.

"You are allowed to lose control," she answered, raking her fingers down his chest, stopping just short of his waistline. Well-manicured nails tore the delicate cotton undershirt and left angry red furrows in the muscles of the man known as Captain America. "Losing control is healthy, and normal." She pressed herself against him again, feeling the heat radiating off his skin through her clothing. She kissed him again, almost attacking his mouth with hers, and taking him off guard enough that this time her tongue easily slipped into his mouth. She traced his perfect teeth with her tongue, coaxing him to bring his own tongue into play, and silently cheering as she felt him respond. Her hands came up to grab him by the head, pulling his head closer to hers as she finally felt him slip one arm around her, his right hand wrapping around her waist and resting on her hip as he pulled her even tighter to him. His body was like granite covered in velvet against her, hard and unyielding, but soft to the touch, and she realized that with his arm around her, she couldn't escape him if she wanted to.

Not that she wanted to.

"Mmmmmhhhhh," she groaned, pressing herself up against him. "Go ahead. Do whatever you want to me. I'm not scared. I want you to lose control. Let your fears and your sorrows out. Use me."

Steely blue eyes looked down as he locked his gaze with her. "You're sure?"

Peggy leaned forward to kiss him again. A long, passionate, open-mouth kiss that demonstrated exactly how hungry for him she was. As she broke the kiss, she nipped his lower lip. Chuckling deeply, she answered him. "God, Steve. Yes. A thousand times, yes."

Before she even knew what was happening, she found her wrists gathered together in his strong left hand, and held high above her head. His grip, while not so tight that it would hurt her, was like iron as she wriggled her hands, half-heartedly trying to break free. In that same moment, she was pressed up against the wall of Steve's room, and his mouth hungrily fell on the left side of her neck, kissing, licking, gently biting her. A soft, low moan escaped her lips, as she closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation. "Yesssss...," she hissed.

The arm that had been wrapped around her snaked to her side, undoing the buttons of her jacket, than slipping underneath it to slide his hands up her ribcage, than moving to her chest, his out splayed hand just at the underside of her sensitive breasts. She could feel the heat of his hand through both blouse and bra, and she shuddered as his hand gently brushed against her.

His mouth began to trail down from her neck and collarbone to the top of her blouse collar, as Steve's hands pulled the tie from her throat, then moved to the buttons of her blouse. His fingers were not quite as nimble as hers, and he fumbled as he tried to undo the top button. She could sense his frustration, and once again told him "Let go, Steve. Do whatever you want to me. Don't worry about the consequences."

With a low growl from his throat, Steve's hands gripped the neck of the blouse, and a hand that had once torn a door from a New York City taxi ripped down the length of her garment. Buttons went flying across his room, and so fierce was his grip that the shirt had even torn down the back, leaving useless strips of fabric hanging from the sleeves of the blouse.

Peggy liked this new side of Steve she was seeing, and she wanted more. For a moment, his grip on her wrists loosened. She opened her eyes again, to see the flash of uncertainty in his face. Had he gone too far, he was no doubt wondering. She couldn't let him stop now. They both needed this.

"Don't worry - I have others. But please, God, don't stop."

With that, his mouth was on hers again, as his hand resumed its exploration of her chest. His fingers traced the outline of her brassiere, hot against her skin where her flesh was uncovered. His palm slid lower, cupping the heavy weight of her breast through the satin and lace. Peggy had been blessed with generous and sensitive breasts, and while they had often been a burden to overcome when convincing men to take her seriously as an agent, they had been a gift to herself and to her lovers when it came to experiencing pleasure. Although her nipples had been in a state of semi-stiffness since the moment they began to walk to the barracks, they hardened more as they felt Steve's palm pressing against them. A growl formed in the back of his throat as they kissed, and Peggy could tell that he was pleased by her reaction. In turn, she could feel the hardness between his legs as he pressed his lower body against her. The dampness between her legs deepened, and she moaned, encouraging him to do more. Pressed tightly enough between his rock-hard body and the wall, Peggy wrapped her well-muscled legs around his waist, kicking her heels off as she did, pulling him even closer with the strength born of an extremely active military lifestyle.

His hand dropped away from her breast to cup her ass, squeezing gently even as he effortlessly held her weight up. No longer needing to hold herself up and against him by her legs, she now used the muscles of her thighs to grind herself against him. Her uniform skirt rode up, revealing her silk stocking covered legs almost up to the tops of her thighs. Between her legs, her panties were quickly moving from damp into the realm of wet, and she pressed her crotch against his, appreciating the stiff rod she found rubbing back against her through his trousers.

Peggy longed to wrap her arms around him, to feel every inch of his incredibly body, but with her wrists restrained and with him holding her up in the air, she realized she was helpless to do so. Things would proceed at whatever pace he desired now, and she had little say in the matter.

Which didn't mean she couldn't still do her best to drive him wild with desire and urge him on.

Breaking the kiss, she gave him a mischievous smile. "Well, Captain Rogers, it seems that I'm completely at your mercy. Whatever shall you do to me?"

"I was going to start by doing this," he answered, lifting her higher into the air, so his face was level with her breasts. Her brassiere was a no-nonsense, sturdy affair, as required by both military code and to restrain her sizable mammaries. Despite its best efforts, however, her breasts strained to burst out of the garment, and a considerable amount of cleavage was bared to Steve's gaze.

Steve leaned forward, bringing his face almost into the deep valley between her breasts. Almost, but frustratingly, not quite. He placed the lightest of kisses on the swell of her breasts, then moved back, gently blowing where he had kissed, and sending shivers up and down the length of her spine.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Peggy asked.

"I thought I might tease you first," he answered hesitantly. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"It is the most frustrating, maddening experience of my life," she answered back. "And the last thing in the world I want is for you to stop. But it might be more comfortable if you got these out of the way." Peggy looked down at the remnants of her blouse and her opened uniform jacket. "If you're willing to let me go, that is."

Still holding her into the air by her delectable derriere, Steve released his grip on Peggy's wrists. She wasted no time sliding both jacket and the rags that once had been a blouse off her shoulders. Her bra was now the only thing covering the top half of her body, but despite the chill in the air, Peggy could only feel the heat of desire that passed between her and Steve.

Putting her hands on his shoulders, she leaned back so that Steve could take in the view. She wasn't naïve about her appearance, and while she wasn't vain, she knew she was attractive. In the dim light of Steve's quarters, her pale, flawless skin practically glowed. Her rich, dark curls brushed the tops of her shoulders, and she bit her lip, feigning nervousness as she asked, "Do you like what you see?"

Faster than she could react to it, Steve spun them around and crossed the distance between the door and his bed, roughly tossing her onto the bed, and then sliding on top of her, smoothly enough that she barely registered the impact of his body against hers, although she immediately could tell when he lowered his weight onto her, deliciously pinning her to the bed. In her shock at being thrown, her hands had come together across her chest, and once again Steve's hand was there, grabbing her wrists together, and quickly pulling them back over her head.

"Oof. I'll take that as a 'Yes,'" she laughed. "Now, where were we?"

"I think I was somewhere around... here..." Steve said, as he lowered his face between her breasts, kissing the exposed flesh once again. This time, his kiss was no quick, teasing matter. His mouth was open against her breast, his tongue lavishing attention on her, leaving wet trails as he slowly moved his mouth from one breast to the other, paying attention to every bit of skin that was uncovered by her bra.

She arched her back, trying to get more of her breast into his mouth. She didn't know what, exactly, she had expected from Steve Rogers as a lover, but the way he was controlling her movement and drawing things out wasn't it. Not that she was complaining, but the teasing was beginning to drive her mad. He was so much larger than her that his left arm was easily holding both her hands above her head, preventing her from taking any control whatsoever. Peggy was used to being the dominant partner in bed, and while she had encouraged Steve to lose control, she hadn't expected him to dominate her so thoroughly.

"Patience, Agent Carter," Steve said as he lifted his head away from her breast. He brought his right hand up to cup the fullness of her breast through the bra. His thumb slid across her nipple, eliciting a gasp. He squeezed, gently, his large hand still unable to grasp the entirety of her breast. Although the squeeze was gentle, Peggy could feel the immense strength being restrained by Steve Rogers' ironclad control. He could hurt her badly if he wanted to, and the only reason the thought wasn't alarming was because of how absolute her trust in him was.

His fingers curled under the cup of the bra, and peeled it back, exposing her erect nipple to the air and to his gaze. Her areolae were puffy from her arousal, and her nipple was hard and thick, proclaiming to the world its intention to be taken into a mouth.

An intention which was quickly permitted, as Steve leaned back in, capturing the nipple beneath his opened lips. His tongue began to circle the nipple as his mouth latched on, sucking the breast more fully into his mouth, his teeth ever so gently pressing into her skin.

"Oh God, Steve, yes. Please, more," she moaned, wishing again that her hands were free so she could tangle them in his blonde hair and pull his mouth tighter to her breast. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she closed them as she wriggled her wrists, trying to free herself, but no sooner did she do so then he tightened his grip, and applied more force to her wrists, pinning them completely against the far-from-yielding regulation bunk, even as his lips, teeth and tongue continued to worship her breast.

With no way to express her amorous feelings through her hands, she spread her legs, allowing Steve's torso to fall between her well-muscled thighs. Once again, she wrapped her legs around him, her stockinged feet sliding up and down the length of his legs and lower back, working their way beneath his undershirt, pushing it higher and higher up his body. She wanted as much skin-to-skin contact with this man as she could possibly get, and they were both still entirely too covered for her liking. These movements also had the added benefit of pushing her skirt higher up her thighs, to the point where it was now bunched around her hips, and also of rubbing her sex against his body, her panties now almost completely soaked through. She could smell her arousal in the air, mixing with the scent of his sweat, a heady, musky mixture that further enflamed her passion.

The satin cup of her bra was still being held out of the way by Steve's mouth, and his hand left her breast to reach behind her. Moving to the catch of her bra, she felt his fingers once more fumbling with the unfamiliar closures. After the first two failed attempts at undoing her bra, she could again feel Steve's tension and frustration in the rigidness that overtook him.

"Tear it off," she breathed. "Rip it. I've got others. Or I'll never wear one again if that's what you want. But I need to feel you against me."

He released her hands, and brought both of his to the center of the brassiere. With each hand taking a different cup, he pulled. For a moment, Peggy winced as satin and cotton pulled against her, the straps cutting into her shoulders and back, but then the garment lost its battle against the super-soldier who pinned her to the bed, and the bra split open, Peggy's bountiful breasts spilling forth, their weight causing them to fall partially to her sides. They were firm, and well-shaped, but still bound by the laws of gravity.

Steve took to his knees, kneeling between her out splayed thighs. She opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her as he pulled his undershirt over his head. His chest remained every bit the perfect specimen which had been burned into her memory those many months ago in Erskine's laboratory when he emerged from the Vita-Ray projector.

Agent Carter had certainly appreciated the sight then. But seeing him rising up from between her legs like the Greek God he resembled, while she herself was topless, was a very different experience. The look of smoldering desire in his eyes also hadn't been there then, but was very much present now. There was a hunger in his eyes that spoke of a desire to possess her completely. And it was one she was quite certain was matched in her own.

Reaching up, Peggy grabbed Steve's forearms, and pulled him back down against her. Again their mouths found each other, and this time, the interplay between lips and tongue were equal - any hesitation in his kiss now completely gone. His firm pectorals smashed her breasts deliciously between the two of them, and there was no mistaking the hardness that was firmly pressed against her sex. For the moment, her hands were free to roam up and down his body. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back as they worked their way lower, to grab the firmness of his ass, which she did as she pulled him in tighter while simultaneously pressing against him with her own body, delighting in the friction that was building between their legs.