Shield and Gun Pt. 02

Before she could even think of an objection, he closed his mouth on her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth, demanding hers.

Without her leave, her body betraying her, ignoring the nagging tightness in her chest of objection, and the self consciousness of the situation, she welcomed his power. A power in which he exerted with singular purpose as their tongues danced in one another's mouth. He reveled in the taste of her sweetness, the smell of her sweat, the quivering feel of her against him.

She tried to hold her own, but after he shifted his hands so only one hand pinned both of her dainty wrists against the wall, the other slid down the length of her body hungrily and replaced his knee that was propped between her legs, she shook with lust.

As much as Steve wanted her, he didn't want to rush things. He could tell she was just following her body and that her mind had not caught up yet to her heart.

Suddenly he pulled away, roughly jerking her away from the wall, "You're filthy," he said. With her wrists still tight in his hold, he led her through the darkened hallway. He had to guess where he was going, but eventually found what he was looking for.

Swaying as he guided her, Natasha had no ability to pay attention to where they were going, the pent up emotional baggage she had been carrying seeping through her facade of control. All she could do was keep her eyes locked on Steve's back, dazedly watching the muscles effortlessly moving under his shirt.

Her pupils constricted as the subject of her focus turned the light on in her bathroom.

Flipping on the light, and without ceremony, he spun on his heel to face her, taking off her tank top, bits of saw dust flying around them, glinting in the warm glow of the bulbs.

He gave her a knowing look, silently instructing her to take care of the rest.

Pausing for only a breath's moment, feeling hypnotized by the intensity of his gaze, she began to undress as she watched him lean past her and turn the shower on, the loud rush of the water almost deafening in the silence surrounding them.

Standing naked, she waited for him to tell her what to do next without even realizing that's what she was doing.

He sat on the edge of the bathtub, silently, looking almost emotionless as his eyes raked over her naked form - hungry, but in control.

She felt his eyes pass from her quivering legs to the small mound of her sex, past the many scars on her body to the curve of her bare breasts, tipped with light pink nipples that stood erect against the chill of her apartment, up the graceful line of her neck to stop when he met her gaze.

Get in - his eyes said.

Yes, sir - her eyes replied.

He extended a hand for her as she stepped into the shower, the shock of the cold water jarring her almost senseless, but she didn't move. His hands led her to sit and he took the shower head off its hook, turning the dial to warm the water.

After a quick moment, sitting on the lip of the tub, he ran the water over her, watching as the bits of saw dust and rubbish fell away from her body. His hand tucked under her chin one more time and urged her to lean her head back as he ran the water through her hair, one hand on the shower head, the other splayed between the ruddy red strands that turned a dark brown in contact with the cleansing water.

Still holding the water upright for her, he reached for the products near him and poured a generous amount of shampoo into his hand before rubbing it gently into her wet locks, massaging her scalp, causing her eyes to close in near ecstasy.

Rinsing the lather out of his hand, he grabbed for the second bottle and once again rubbed the cool liquid into her hair, before then grabbing her loofah and running it across the milky contours of her body.

The water was warm, but she shivered quietly.

Steve put the shower head down to rest against the bottom of the bathtub as he lathered her body - it wasn't sexual - it was a caress, a loving action as he moved across each part of her body, laying a gentle kiss before washing her.

On her neck.

On her shoulder.

On her hands.

On her knees.

And she lifted her feet to him, letting him kiss the tops of her feet before he covered them in the lather.

Still in silence, he plucked the shower head off the bottom of the bath and lifted her to her feet, rinsing her from head to toe slowly, his hands guiding the flow of water over every inch of her.

Leaning yet once again, he turned the shower off, replacing the shower head to its rightful place.

She was about to tell him where the towels were when he lifted her into his arms, and he carried her out of the bathroom and walked them both, soaking wet, to her bedroom.

If her living room had been bare of creature comforts, then her bedroom was a cave. A simple bed laid in the middle of the room - with the sister of the end table from the den now acting as nightstand here, holding a single clock that must have been made in the 1980s. The bright flashing red of the digits bright in the dark room.

He placed her on the bed, taking his time to walk to her window and open the drapes, allowing the moonlight to spill into her empty room, his normally warm blonde hair reflecting the white, causing him to look ethereally unreal.

He stepped out of his shoes, very purposefully and carefully stripping down in front of her, mindfully folding his clothes in a neat stack on the floor.

Natasha watched, enjoying seeing his body move fluidly in his actions, the long lean muscles just as perfectly sculpted as she remembered them, the fuzz of hair between his legs darkened by shadow and depriving her of full vision of him. She drank him in, a heady drunk lust coming over her as she anticipated the love making to come.

He lifted his head to look at her, as he stood naked in the moonlight.

"Get on your back and spread your legs."

His authoritative tone was back, which both unnerved and excited her. His body moved silently on the hardwood floors but the bed creaked under his weight as he waited for her to do as he said.

She did, propping herself on her elbows a bit to see what he was going to do but a hand reached out and pushed her back onto the bed, making her "ooof" quietly.

"Don't. Move."

The words hung in the air over her as she felt one large, warm hand trail up the inner length of her inner thigh and cup her nethers.

She held her breath.

While she restrained her body from quaking, his hand caressed her there, her body responding and slicking to his touch. Then achingly slowly, he slipped one long, slender finger inside of her deftly.

It took every bit of self control to lay still - to not arch her back, to not gasp, to not let herself roll with the gentle to and fro of his ministrations as he slid yet another inside of her and then outside of her, and then inside of her, again.

His other hand came around pressed, palm flat, gently below her navel, forcing her to stay even more still and forcing blood to rush away from her upper body to her lower extremities making her more sensitive to his touch.

As he applied even more pressure to her abdomen, his hand inside of her began moving earnestly - rougher, quicker, his fingers bent slightly as the tips grazed aggressively against that sensitive spot inside of her.

She finally breathed, sucking in air with her mouth agape, and with guilt looked down at him to see if he had heard her gasp of air.

His facial expression was hard to read, even if it hadn't been obscured by the darkness and limited moonlight, and she didn't dare try as all of her concentration was being used on trying not to react to him. He looked at her then, intently, intensely.

He didn't touch her like this before - he had been a virgin a year ago. And a thought occurred to her that maybe he had had another lover during their time apart. A pang of jealousy shot through her and he felt her tense. She rationalized that he would think she was close to climax, but he surprised her.

"Natalia..." he began, breathing deeply as his hand didn't let up, "After you had me, and walked away, I thought I had done something wrong..."

She started to protest, to reassure him, but his look silenced her.

"I've had a year to think about this. To learn. And you may have been my first, but I intend on being your last." And as if to punctuate his words, his fingers curled hard against her sensitive spot causing her hands to clutch the plain cotton sheets of her bed, her back arching almost impossibly as a wave of liquid rushed out of her and her body unleashed a torrent of ecstasy, flooding her mind into a tingling, muddled mess.

"I didn't say you could finish, Natalia," he said through gruff tones as he positioned himself on top of her as her mind came back down to join her body.

And as if to punish her for not asking permission, he parted her hyper sensitive skin, burying his length in her, and, without pause, relentlessly took her.

Her body shook violently with each of his thrusts, and as she tried to reach up to hold onto him for dear life, he grabbed her hands with a force that made her grit her teeth as he pinned them to the bed, doubling his assault on her. Her head began to spin as her body welcomed his attack and she moaned between breaths, calling his name into the darkness, as if to invoke further power from him, to pull him closer inside of her.

She tried desperately to escape his grasp, to free herself, but he fought against her, pinning her harder with each jolt to the point of pain, causing her to cry out. He kissed her again, hard, controlling her breathing and her body in one fluid motion.

Leaving a hot trail of his mouth on her cheek, he bit her ear lobe viciously, "Stop fighting it," he hissed, pulling on her ear just enough that something in her mind finally snapped and she embraced it.

She embraced the freedom, embraced her feelings, embraced her lust, and gave herself to him.

The shift would have been imperceptible to anyone but Steve, but he sensed it. He knew it. He felt it. And as soon as she let her own control go, so did he, and he released his grip on her, knowing she'd lay willingly for him to cater to her.

Taking complete control, he braced one hand beneath her and took her - again and again and again.

He bent his body, slowing his movements a bit as he took one of her breasts into her mouth, flicking his tongue methodically and lovingly, his teeth pinching the base of her nipple hard enough to rush her blood to the area.

She lifted her body into him, but kept her hands away, letting him show her just how much he had thought about this moment over the last many months.

It was as if he knew her limitations without ever asking - he brought her to the edge of oblivion repeatedly only to stop her from going over, slowly building up his intents again in a seemingly chaotic but completely methodical manner.

"Look at me," he commanded before she realized her eyes had been closed. Her lashes fluttered open at his demand and she saw his face in the gentle glow of the moonlight. Sweat was beaded on his forehead from the exertion and his normally flawless complexion was flushed pink. She lost herself in his stare as he brought her to climax again and this time, let her have it.

Coming down once more, he slowed his pace, letting her catch her breath, his eyes fixated on her face, a look of adoration in his deep blue eyes.

Her head was reeling, with jolts of pleasure flying through her body without control. She had never experienced this kind of freedom before - total trust and lack of responsibility, where nothing was asked of her except to enjoy herself.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked her, sincerity in his voice.

Gasping for air, she started to nod, but then stopped to ask, "If I said yes, would you?"

Pulling away and out of her, with a smirk tickling his lips, he sat on the bed next to her, his wet and naked form glistening in the moonlight.

But she didn't want him to stop and reached for him.

Instead of fighting it, he let her pull him down onto the bed on his back, that adoring look still in his eyes.

I need you - they said.

And I need you - her's replied.

Taking the reins, she slid on top of him, bracing her legs on either side of his hips and guided him to her.

Completely relaxed, he sighed, the sweetness of his breath brushing her cheek as she lowered her lips to his and gently kissed him.

Without instruction, he placed his hands on her thighs to push against her motions, just like she had taught him to that night in the woods. Good memory.

But she didn't move. She didn't want to move. She was enjoying being the recipient of all the attention - being a little selfish.

He tentatively lifted himself beneath her and she gave a sound of approval, urging him on. He pushed his arms forward, causing her to rock back and she responded in kind, shifting herself forward once more until they both found a rhythm of comfort.

The melodic love making, initially gentle and sweet took a turn in tone as Natasha found her second wind and began taking him in full stride, her lithe body rocking urgently on him. He tried to slow her down, but she responded by digging her nails into his chest where she was resting her hands.

"It's MY turn."

His eyes widened a bit as she rolled her hips emphatically, causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head and moan compulsively.

She wanted to show him - show him everything - not only because she felt bad for having denied them one another for so long, but also because she felt possessing him in return was the only way they'd have a shot at this.

Leaning forward she looked at him intently, "Open your eyes, Steve."

He smiled as he lazily obeyed, loving to hear his name on her lips in that way.

Still moving on top of him, she wrapped her slender fingers around the thick corded muscles of his neck and squeezed, idly wondering just how deep into learning about sexual acts he had done.

He didn't flinch, his eyes locked on hers. He trusted her.

Quickening her pace, she felt the rush of blood rising in her and saw his face redden with efforts, but he didn't breathe.

She brought him to climax adeptly, moving her body in sync with his until the very last possible moment and she released his neck, allowing the blood to rush to him at the same time his mind unleashed a torrent of pleasure, shattering him into a million pieces with her.

They both coalesced minutes later, panting heavily, their limbs tangled in one another, their minds barely coming together to make cohesive thoughts.

Mentally blaming his super soldier serum assisting in that, he spoke first, "I'm in love with you," he said plainly into the darkened room, the heat of their joining dissipating into the coolness of the air.

Forcing herself to respond, not from unwillingness, but from sheer exhaustion, "I know...and I love you too."

There. She said it. To hell with the consequences.

He rolled over, propping his head on his hand, elbow bent, "I know..."

Natasha had one arm strewn across her face, still catching her breath, but she peeked from beneath her bicep, "Oh yeah?"

He smiled brilliantly at her, the corners of his eyes wrinkling just a little, "I knew that first night."

Clearly, he was not going to let her fall asleep immediately, "You know, Steve, not all of us can bounce back like you do after extreme activity."

"I thought ladies liked pillow talk?" He joked with her.

"I'd hardly call myself a lady."

"Are you tired, Nat?" He stroked her side, caressing her curves and tracing some of the light scars that adorned her perfect form.

"Mmmhmmm..." she quietly articulated, enjoying his touch.

"Let me help you with that then..."

And without demand, he lowered himself to her, gently kissing the sensitive skin between her thighs, taking her once more to the zenith, softly, allowing her to quietly melt into the bed beneath her.