Chapter Twenty-Six- So Damn Lucky

Bonnie Tyler – Total Eclipse Of The Heart

The door had barely slid closed behind them before Brock was dumping the kit bag on the floor and reaching out to pull Jemma into his arms. In the confined space of the cubicle she couldn't exactly have escaped him anyway, but she laughed softly and came willingly, smiling up at him, her eyes shining.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he muttered gruffly, running one hand into her hair and tilting her head up to give her a long, deep kiss, his tongue sliding erotically into her mouth, playing a slow, teasing game with hers.

He was gripping her hair just hard enough to make Jemma feel weak at the knees. She slid her arms around his lean waist, holding on for support as he guided her backwards until the back of her knees bumped the bed. His eyes were gleaming darkly as he lifted his head and looked down at her, her eyes closed, lips parted and wet, swollen and red.

"Do you have more clothes here?" he asked thickly.

"Hmm?" Jemma blinked vaguely. "Uh – yes, a couple of things, why?"

"Because I've been dreaming about doing this." He let go of her hair – and ripped her shirt clean in two down the front.

Jemma couldn't help a small squeal. Brock shoved her down on the bed and reached for her trousers, popping the button off and yanking them down.

"Brock, you're wrecking my stuff!" she said indignantly.

"I'll buy you more." He gazed at her, clad only in the pretty pink silk underthings he'd lustfully watched her slide on only a few minutes earlier. "You can keep these, though." His voice was even lower and huskier. "If you can get them off in the next ten seconds."

Jemma wasted no time. Neither did he, stripping off his clothes swiftly and tossing them aside. And then he was kneeling over her, darkly beautiful and oh so dangerous, his eyes hot. And that scent started pouring off him again, driving Jemma mad with need.

"Please," she whimpered, trying to part her legs, but there was no room between his body and the wall of the cubicle. "Brock, please, I need you." She looked down along the line of his body, past the huge pectoral muscles and chiselled abs, saw his cock standing proudly erect. Licked her lips.

"Ah, God, you've got such a beautiful mouth," Brock muttered. "You want me in your mouth, baby girl?" He could feel her hunger for him, it was a heady rush that only increased his own ardour.

"Yes," Jemma agreed, staring still, licking her lips again as he curled a casual hand around the thick length and jerked a couple of times. "Please. Want you to fuck my mouth." She slid her eyes up to his, and whispered, "Sir." She smiled slightly as she sensed his need for her increase still further, could tell how very much he liked the idea.

"Shit, Jemma," he half-laughed, shaking his head. "I couldn't fucking say no to anything you ask when you look at me like that!" Shifting on the bed, he pulled her lower down. "Here. Bend your knees up, put your feet on the wall. I'm gonna lick you out while you suck on me." And he knelt astride her head, his dark head dipping down between her thighs.

"Mm," Jemma reached up and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, directing his tip to her mouth. She licked first, once, a long slow circuit all around the swollen head. And then moaned as he mirrored the move with a slow swipe of his tongue circling her clit.

Brock wasn't going to stop there, of course. He leaned on his elbows, curved an arm around Jemma's ass and brought his hand to the party, sliding a thick finger slowly into Jemma's tight, slick passage. She moaned again around his cock and took him deeper into her mouth; he rewarded her with a nibble on her clit and another finger pressed in below the first, scissoring lightly to stretch her open before hooking up to pass lightly over that tender bundle of nerves inside her walls. She squirmed and gasped around his cock in her mouth; he swatted lightly on her ass with his free hand.

Jemma couldn't concentrate, not with what Brock was doing with his mouth and hands. She tried, but she couldn't get a rhythm going, couldn't get enough breath. And then he laughed softly against her and pulled off.

"Feels real good, baby girl, but I'm gonna fuck you now." He turned around, bending to nip and suckle at her breasts as he moved her again, lifting her up the bed until her head rested on the pillow. She opened her arms to him trustingly as he knelt between her thighs, and he shook his head again wonderingly.

"So damn lucky."

"Shut up and put that mouth of yours to good use," Jemma demanded. He arched a dark eyebrow.

"There's my demanding little madam again. How do you want me to use it? Here?" he licked lightly at her nipple, knowing very well it wouldn't be enough stimulation for her. So he brought his hand up and pinched it firmly immediately after.

"Ah, yeah! Bite," Jemma begged, putting her hands to his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. "Bite me. Please. Want your marks on me, they're all gone…" and she mourned their fading. She wanted his marks on her, his brands of possession. Wanted the pleasure-pain of the bruises forming even as he brought her to ecstasy.

He sucked a hickey into her breast as he worked his way slowly inside her, taking it slow because she was swollen and tight. She was moaning and thrashing by the time he was fully seated inside her, and then he caught her hips in his big hands and sat back on his haunches, drawing her into his lap, pulling her upright so they were face to face. She wrapped her legs around him and they both sighed as they felt the soulmarks touch again, like a phantom caress along the bond between them.

Jemma slid her arms around his strong neck, ran her fingers into his thick, black hair. One of his muscled arms curved up her back, bracing her, the other stayed under her hip as he began to thrust, powerful leg muscles shoving him hard inside her with every movement, her nipples chafing against his crisp chest hair.

"Brock," she whimpered, her head falling back, and he swooped in, sucking hard and biting at her throat just above her collarbone. "Oh yes, God, yes please don't stop oooohhhhhh," he thrust faster, bit down harder as he felt sleek muscles begin to clamp around him.

Jemma cried out, a low, elongated wail of his name, her slender body stiffening and tremoring in his grasp, and Brock let out a throaty snarl, gritting his teeth. He waited out the rippling, seductive grasp of her climax, and then lifted her off him, lowering her gently to the bed, turning her over and urging her up to her hands and knees.

"This okay, baby girl?" He leaned over her back, reaching around her to cup her breasts in his big hands, squeeze and roll her nipples in his fingers.

"Oh God yes," Jemma moaned, trying to push back against him. "Brock, please."

"Fuckin' love how you always say my name, baby girl." He pulled her back against him, sucked on her shoulder as he eased back inside again. "That's it," as she writhed against him. "You want this, don't you? Want me to fuck you so hard you can't remember your own name."

She only let out a pleading little sob, her head rolling back against his shoulder as he slowly plunged deep. She couldn't keep her eyes open, could hardly breathe with how full he made her feel. The strength of his hands holding her grounded her, steadied her, helped her take a slow deep breath when he stopped moving for a moment.

Jemma was pliant beneath him, soft and yielding. Utterly, perfectly his. Brock pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, guided her to place her hands under the pillow and her head down on it. Braced her knees and tilted her hips back so he had the perfect angle to fuck her as deep as he could get. And then he clamped his hands on her hips, holding firmly.

"You ready, Jemma?"

She rolled her hips against him with a whine in her throat, and he smiled hungrily and began to thrust, long, deep strokes, withdrawing almost completely before slamming back in, accelerating steadily until he was pistoning into Jemma hard and fast, listening to her cries increase in tempo and volume. Feeling her ecstasy increase until her mind was filled with nothing but him and the way he was making her feel.

It felt so good. Brock knew just how rough to be with her to make her go mad. Jemma could feel herself rising helplessly towards orgasm again as he pumped deep inside her, rubbing perfectly over her G-spot with each long, rough stroke. She was most definitely going to get off again in short order if he kept doing that… he let out a groan and his hands clenched just a fraction tighter.

Jemma could feel him, in the back of her mind, could tell that what he was doing felt just as wonderful to him as it did to her. The love, the wondering adoration, he felt for her was a heady rush that made her feel drunken with bliss.

Her pleasure fed his own, he could feel how close she was, how good this felt to her. Ecstasy coiled at the base of his spine and he groaned, trying to hold back, but he couldn't… "Jemma, now!" he begged frantically. And his beautiful girl responded, her back bowing as she cried out, rippling muscles tightening around him in a hot wet clamp that wrung him dry of every last drop.

They collapsed to the bed together, panting, blind and deaf to everything but each other. Jemma clung to Brock, uncaring of his seed sticky on her thighs. It was just another mark of his possession of her, and she welcomed it just as she welcomed the bruises on her breast and throat, the fingerprint marks on her hips.

"My beautiful girl," he murmured softly, stroking her hair.

"Yours," she agreed contentedly, pressing her lips to his chest, and felt his joy in her increase still further. They were smiling at each other like loons, she realised, and couldn't bring herself to care. He tightened his arms around her, stroked her back gently, and they lay there in utter, blissful contentment until they felt the plane begin to descend.

Brock sighed reluctantly. "I guess we'd better get dressed."

"Mm-hm," Jemma agreed, making absolutely no move to get up. Then something occurred to her. "My bed at the base is a lot bigger and more comfortable than this one."

"That sounds wonderful," Brock grinned in anticipation. "Can't wait to try it out." His arms tightened around her briefly, and then he murmured, "Maybe I can tie you down to it. Take my time exploring every inch of your gorgeous body."

He could tell how very much she liked that idea, would have known even if he hadn't been able to feel her excitement in the back of his mind, by the way she wiggled sensuously against him and reached up for a kiss. And then she moved back, trying to pull free of his hold.

"Well, let me up then," Jemma said. "I need to find something else to wear!"

Brock grinned as she gave him a reproachful look. "I'm not at all sorry."

"I know you're not, you barbarian. Let me up!"

He rolled her beneath him first, pinning her down with his body, kissed her until she was gasping and writhing under him. And then he lifted his head and traced his finger lightly down her cheek, grimacing slightly at the redness on her chin and upper lip where his beard had rasped her. First job would be to find a razor before her tender skin was rubbed raw.

"I love you," he said quietly, sincerely, looking into her eyes.

She smiled up at him, a smile of such wonder it pierced him to the heart. "I love you too, Brock."

All together now: AWWWW!

Well, this was the last proper chapter. Just an Epilogue left to go… tying off a few of those loose ends!

There has been so much begging and pleading that I am considering a few bonus chapters looking at Skye and Bucky's romance. There won't be a full-on sequel though, and those chapters may be a week or two away, but stay tuned. I haven't abandoned this AU yet.