OK, so this is the start of the sour chapters... I do hope they are up to scratch and they do the images I have in my mind justice. Let me know what you think, I openly encourage comments!
James received her into his lap and was at once his senses were assaulted. He could smell the soap she had used to clean herself up with, a hint of lemon and lime clinging to her skin. She was surprisingly light in his lap had he got the impression of hip bone before she buried her face in the crook of his neck. The skin of her cheeks was damp and he realised then exactly how distressing this was. For someone who was so used to being in control of their body, this disorder was going to seem like hell. That this was not a quick fix and was going to go on until they found some form of counter measure, it would be truly traumatic. The fact that she didn't have a choice, that this was forced and he was the target would only add to her trauma.
Damn.
He sat her in his lap, determined to make sure this was about her and not him; this was her ordeal and he was going to keep it that way. Her needs must take priority in this, of that he was sure! The whimpering noise she made against his neck promised so much and he was forced to shove his own rising libido to the side, this was about her, not him! Yes, it was a damned shame that it had been so long since he'd been with anyone. After getting out of HYDRA it wasn't something he had ever considered. His head had been more scrambled than breakfast eggs and he had needed time to get that sorted, he still did. Having her dropped into his lap like this was unfortunate.
Her hand fisted into the soft T-shirt he was wearing, her eyes finding his, "Bucky please!" she almost demanded.
He tried to smile, tried to appear calm despite the hammering of his heart in his chest. "Where do you want my hands?" he asked.
There was no embarrassment or modesty in her actions, she took his right hand, the one still flesh, and placed it between her thighs. He could see the futility of her wearing trousers at that point and realised he should have found a skirt. Her hands were moving to fix that problem and before he could register what had happened, his hand was buried in the red curls at the apex of her thighs.
"Oh dear Lord – please." She cried out at the touch she had initiated and pressed herself down on his hand. Pushing her chest up against him, she then took his other hand and placed it on her breast. She did not seem overly bothered that it would be cold either. "You have to kiss me!" she demanded. One look in her eyes told much. Her pupils were dilated as though she had taken some sort of drug and her skin was flushed. Her lips were parted and she seemed to be somewhere between agony and ecstasy.
He ignored the demand to be kissed, that was something for people who were intimate with each other when they were willing and wanted to. This was quite the opposite of that and he was determined to keep this separate from that. He pushed back against her sex with his hand. The 'oh' the escaped her lips turned into a strangled sort of noise. His other hand pinched at the nipple through the fabric of her top and his focus turned to that noise she made.
She leaned her head back against his shoulder, her eyes closed, allowing him to look at her without being mistaken for some perverse onlooker. He cupped her breast with his left hand while spreading her labia with his right. It allowed his long middle finger to strum her clit gently, rolling the little button around. He had barely started when the first of her screams broke the peace of the flat, not quenched but a sound of further need.
Her thighs clamped down around his hand as she spasmed through her orgasm. Then she shifted, her green eyes catching his blue ones, "More," she demanded. She moved to straddle his knee, the wetness of her sex soaking onto the fabric of his jeans.
"Put my hands where you need them," he said.
The flushed faced red-head squirmed and took both his hands, moaning in a mixture of arousal and frustration. Both his hands were jammed between her thighs and she roughly pushed down against them, trying to gain some of the friction she clearly desired. Watching her face intensify, he used the fingers of his right hand to pinch at her swollen clit. She ground against his hand her arse rubbing against his leg. It might not be enough but for now, it would have to suffice. James was determined that she would have a choice in the matter, so would he!
She chose that moment to discover how hard he actually was and her hand brushed along the outline of his cock. Damn it that felt good! His lips parted and the sparks that shot through him were divine. No! No. They were not going to go that far! He caught her hand, preventing her from doing it again and placed it on her chest, "Use your hands too," he said. She seemed to catch on and for the moment, he was safe from penetrating her. That was something at least.
Her other hand slid into his hair fisting it at the nape of his neck as he slid his cold metal finger against her. This was slightly better, other than pressure he couldn't feel through it. The less he knew about how wet she was the easier this would be! Not that the scent of that was enough to almost break his resolve anyway.
The smell of her arousal was the only thing he could pick up on at that moment. He small moans were music to his east and the fact that he was the one causing them was not doing his desire any favours at all. Nor was the fabric of his underwear, the coarse material rubbed against his prick and his balls jumped. Although it would be remaining right where it was, that did not mean it was comfortable!
She groaned again and released his hair, leaning her head against his shoulder once more. Her breath came in short pants and he pressed her clit with regular firm motions, Judging by the hitch in her breath, she was about there. His other hand thumbed her nipple and she went rigid, a scream erupting from her lips. She remained like that for a long moment before crumpling against him, utterly boneless. He reclaimed his hands and wrapped his arms around her waist. Tears followed rapidly after her second climax and he was once more reminded that she had no choice or control over this. "What have they done to me?" she sniffed.
He had no answer for her. It had been no more than five minutes from their first intimate touch to her second orgasm. This was going to be one hell of a long weekend. He ran a hand through his dark hair, flicking it back from his face and let out a sigh. Fury had a lot to answer for, that much he did know!