It's probably a safety thing. England likes to think that. She'd spent so much time on top of the world, alone and without a friend in the world. To her there's nothing more beautiful than when America is wrapped around her, fucking her with all he has because he loves her and treasures her. He wants to take care of her, wants her to come as often as possible before he finally gives in and fills her to the brim with his hot, sweet come.
Yes, she's fairly sure that's the root of it all. And then she absolutely worships the symbol of that size, that protection: the powerful constant throbbing of his heart.
It tastes delicious on his cock. She's not even sucking as much as laving her tongue across the fat vein on the bottom, feeling every little pump inflating it further and further. Getting it so nice and plump that she'll feel she's being torn apart when he finally breeches her is just a bonus. The real treat is that flow of blood.
However, all too quickly America's grabbing her by her long hair, let down for once, and gently pulling her head away.
"No," He says, voice low and husky. "Naughty girl, it's not time yet."
She whines and pouts, knowing that's the proper response to the gentle chastisement.
"There, there, baby, not long now. I've got something special for you tonight."
Although she wants to protest anything that would keep her from getting more than just a finger back on his pulse, she's intrigued.
"Is this something you're going to tell me about beforehand, or is it a surprise?"
"Just trust me. You'll love it. Now get on your back and spread your legs."
She rolls her eyes and flips over as commanded. He slides down so that his face is inches from her womanhood. He's breathing in her scent deeply. His eyes glaze over as he sticks out his tongue to gently tease her lips.
"A blow job, really? Not much of a surprise."
"Oh, come on, I can see you blushing. Besides, this isn't it. I just couldn't resist a taste."
He reaches beneath the duvet and pulled out a narrow black box. When it's open she recognizes it as a vibrator, though a fairly boring one at that: wide enough, sure, but smooth and straight. She's told him several times about the importance of texture and a good curve. But then he pulls out another piece: a small black band that he slipped onto his wrist.
"What's that?" She demands.
"Gimmie a second," he replies.
She huffs again to keep herself from whining as he first slides the tip against her entrance. It's warm and lovely and even without that the intense stare he gives to his work she is nearly shivering. He has it seated inside of her quickly, and thankfully he's remembered the angle she loves best.
"Now watch and learn."
He flicks the switch and it starts to buzz softly, but it's not the constant barrage of pleasure she's used to. Instead she feels a double beat: one hard followed by a slightly softer one, then a break over and over and over. America takes a deep breath and closes his eyes and the pattern slows. Suddenly it all clicks into place and she trembles, squeezing the toy.
"O-oh, America-"
"You like it?" The rate is speeding up again. "I know how much you like to listen and feel my heartbeat and everything, and I thought it was time we got a new toy and-"
He's first cut off by a surprised squeak as her first orgasm tears through her, and then by a wave of her juice that actually manages to hit him in the face. England is frozen, in spite of the nearly overwhelming urge to rock back into the toy, fuck herself on America's glorious heartbeat. She almost never squirts, and when she does, it's not as far as it must have gone to hit her lover in the face.
He touches his cheek in disbelief, but then when he pulls away he smiles. "Glad I wasn't wearing my glasses."
He looks calm, but his heartbeat is giving a different story. It's racing and the blood in his cheeks is rising. She worries that she somehow pissed him off, but then he props himself up better and he sees how his cock is twitching.
Suddenly the vibrator feels like too much. She's shuddering and shuddering around it and it's so intense it almost hurts. A moment later it crosses that line.
"Stop!" She shouts and instantly he does.
In a flash he has the toy out of her and in his hands. For a moment he fumbles with it until he finds the switch.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm just- I just-"
He is looking down at her, so deeply concerned and worried. She throws her arms around him and holds him tightly. His heart races against her breast now, right where it's meant to be.
"It was good," She says. "But it got to be too much."
"I'm sorry. I should have stopped it."
"No, it's okay. I'm fine. But, America, please, I need you to fuck me now."
"Are you sure? I mean you just-"
"Yes, you thick-headed twat, I'm sure!"
"Alright, okay! But ssh…"
He eases her back down and places kisses on her cheeks, her neck, the undersides of her wrists.
"I like feeling it too, you know. Lets me know you're okay, you're alive…"
She looks away, not blissed enough to handle this. "That's not fucking."
"I know. But get ready."
He's up and away from her for a moment as he uses one hand to hold her open and the other to guide his cock inside and that's too much. She needs him back and now. Her sound of protest dies in her throat when he looks down at her and gives her that dopey grin.
Then he's finally sliding in, so much bigger and warmer than the toy and she whines as her body stretches to accommodate him. He's shaking with the effort of not fucking her to jelly once he's fully inside of her.
She rolls her eyes. "Go for it."
He sighs in relief and relaxes for half a moment until he lets go. And, dear god, maybe that jelly part was more literal than she thought. He's never fucked her so hard, so fast. Her breath isn't coming enough to make noise, but that's okay because America is practically singing above her. He's whining and moaning as he gives and gives and gives. England is torn between shutting her eyes from the intense pleasure and not being able to look away. They clutch each other, and England can't even tell where she ends and he begins. They're one big tangle of passion and England wants them to stay like it forever, to melt into one.
America switches his angle a little bit and that does it for her. She's coming again and hears herself letting out a girly, breathless whine. Were she not so fucked out, she'd feel embarrassed. Instead she just lets herself flop down in a boneless pile. America keeps going, knowing that she loves when he helps her ride it out. Even after the final shocks die down, she still enjoys it. It's warm, comfortable, safe. And then he buries his face in the crook of her neck and stiffens as he comes.
A few moments later, when his cock is soft and his breathing getting back to normal he pulls away and smiles at her.
"I love you," he says.
"I love you too. Idiot."
He gives a little laugh and kisses her gently. She kisses back, slow and sweet, until she decides it's enough. She's good and tired and properly fucked. All that's left is to roll onto their sides and cover themselves in blankets. She applies a little bit of pressure to America's shoulder and, well trained thing that he is, he moves and grabs the comforters from where they're bunched up on his side. Then he pulls her close and cards his fingers through her hair. She places her head against his chest, feeling his slowing heartbeat, and lets its gentle lullaby help her drift off to sleep.