"Wow." Steve's head flops back onto the pillow, his chest rising and falling in a manic rhythm as he attempts to catch his breath. I run my fingers through my hair, pulling it away from my dewy face and neck.
"No kidding." I prop myself up on one arm and look down at him, drinking in every last inch of the way he looks, solid and masculine and satisfied. Our eyes meet, a grin jumping across his face. Suddenly we're both laughing uncontrollably, though I have no idea as to why. I cannot help but feel at ease, the likes of which I cannot ever recall feeling before, even when he was still with me during the War. I feel safe.
I collapse onto his chest, my laughter ebbing away in random gasps of air and when I finally manage to look back up at Steve, his gaze is so intense I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It makes me nervous, so instinctively, I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. It's a nasty habit that I thought I had been properly rid of in finishing school. But I feel his palm glide its way along my jaw line, tangling his fingers into the roots of my hair, gently massaging the spots beneath his fingertips.
"God you're beautiful." I feel the blush deepen. I break our gaze, finding it difficult to compose myself while having him stare at me like that. I know that I'm beautiful, that's never been much of a secret to me, but I'm also no Rita Hayworth either. "I missed you so much, Peg." My breath comes hard and shaky into my lungs as I finally look back at him.
"I missed you too." My voice sounds low and I notice goose bumps rising along Steve where my breathy words have danced up his skin. Slowly, I place a kiss on his chest, moving my way up. Some are light and fleeting, others, wet and heavy and lasting. I feel his hands begin to move their way to my hips, making me sit up, firmly grasping his hands in the process. I move them away, placing them on the bed with a firm push.
"Stay."
I look him squarely in the eye, his breath stopping for a moment. Instantly I lean over him, my hair falling to one side as I work my lips up along his neck. I linger on his pulse point, feeling the light thrum of the blood in his veins beneath my tongue and when I finally decide to move on, I notice a dark red spot from my ministrations. Good girl, Peg. Mark your territory.
I drag my mouth up to his, my tongue just barely grazing his lower lip, just enough to taste myself on him, and it electrifies my entire body, heating it up once more. "I missed you, very, very much," each word emphasized with a deep kiss. And as I slide my hips down his body, stretching my entire length along his, I feel him already hard and willing, pressing between my thighs.
"Crikey," I cock my eyebrow up at him, "That was fast." Steve blushes uncontrollably at my remark.
"You don't have to-" he begins to pulls himself out from under me but I refuse to let him move, pressing my palms into his shoulders, my legs holding steady.
"I told you to stay." My words come out harsher than I had intended and I watch his eyes widen in surprise. I reel myself back into the moment, a smile curving across my lips. I lean down, my warm breath dancing across his ear as I whisper, "I can take care of that for you." I place a gentle kiss on his temple before I move down his body, admiring every hard plane, angle, and curve that even Michelangelo himself could not have sculpted more perfectly. I also take note of every spot and scar that juts across his skin, keeping meticulous track with my tongue and lips.
I meet Steve's eye as I work my way down, slithering down his stomach until I stop between his thighs. I smirk slightly at his response—he looks a bit terrified. I grip him in my hand, pausing for a moment to watch him swallow hard. Oh, he's going to love this.
Let it be known that Steve Rogers is the most fantastic man to perform fellatio on, because the instant I take the dive, he lets out the most satisfyingly satisfied groan I have ever heard in my life. And as I continue to move, pulling and releasing, laving and grazing, his groans turn into my name and I've never been more pleased with myself. I raise my eyes to watch him, taking in every flex, every release of muscle. His large hands ball the sheets, as he struggles to maintain control. I notice a slight furrow in his brow and I take it as a sign that he's close.
"Come for me, Steve," my voice a low whisper blowing across his heated skin.
And that's all it takes. Another skilled swipe of my tongue over his tip is all that it takes to send him over the edge, and he falls willingly, practically howling my name. And I drink him in in all his glory, absolutely glowing with the knowledge that it is my name that he cries out when he becomes completely undone at the seams.
I eye him as he slowly comes back to me, his chest falling heavy once again.
"Jesus Christ, Peg," he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. I catch the remnants of the wildness in his gaze as he brings himself back under control. "Where on Earth did you learn to do that?"
I sit up, resting myself on the tops of his thighs, with a pleased smile on my face. "A girl picks up a few things at university." He looks up at me with an incredulous stare. "Don't—" But I am cut off by my stomach making an angry, gurgling sound. It reminds us both that I haven't eaten anything in about seventy-five years.
Having composed himself enough, Steve pulls himself up to me, placing his hands securely on my hips. "I suppose that means that you need to eat something?" he chuckles.
"As much as I adore you, real food would be greatly appreciated," I wink at him. The smile and laughter never leaves his face, but I feel his fingers tighten into my skin in response implying a dangerous edge. He is a fast learner. I cradle his head between my hands, giving him a languid kiss before I pull away and move off the bed. His fingers leave white lines across my skin where he refuses to let go of me entirely.
"Is there anything you're wanting in particular?" Steve stands, pulling on his boxers and his now slightly torn t-shirt.
"Whatever your specialty is. I'm not particular at the moment," I pull the knickers Pepper brought me over my hips and I am pleased to find that they fit and are quite comfortable. The same can be said for the bra as well. I am impressed with this Pepper woman, whoever she is. I look down at the rest of the clothing dubiously.
"Fashion is a bit different," Steve comments, moving up behind me. I sigh, turning to look at him.
"Evidently," I pick up the zippered, hooded sweater, my brow knotted slightly.
"I'll get started on food then and leave you it." Steve places a light kiss on my head.
"Thank you, darling," I smile back at him, waiting until he leaves the room to continue contemplating modern clothing style.