Chapter 37.

Skye clung to Steve's huge shoulders as he kissed her. He made her feel tiny, fragile, delicate – the same way she'd once felt with Ward, but whereas there'd always been a slight edge of danger to Ward that had made her keep her distance (and thank God that her instincts were apparently sharp enough to know something was off about him), with Steve she felt nothing but safe. Warm, protected, and so very safe.

And very, very aroused. When he lifted her off her feet to kiss her she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, and since she was wearing a short skirt the only thing separating them from intimate contact was her thin panties and his jeans. She could feel his arousal through the denim, pressing hard against her.

"Gonna finish what you started this time?" Skye panted as Steve's mouth traced down her neck. He was holding her with one arm around her waist without apparent effort, the other hand sliding gently over the outside of her thigh against his hip.

"Huh?" Steve's brain had shorted out completely. He could smell Skye's arousal, his enhanced senses telling him clearly that delicious slickness between her thighs was welling again in response to their passionate kiss. He licked his lips hungrily.

"Steve," she ran her fingers into his hair. "This is good. This is hella good. But I want you to fuck me, properly this time."

"Yes," he said eagerly. "Wait – no. I don't want you to think I don't respect you…"

"If you don't shut up and take me to bed right now I'm going to do – something you won't like!" she vowed passionately.

"Yeah?" he recovered enough to grin teasingly down at her. "And what's that?"

She unwound her legs from his waist, pushing at his chest in a clear indication she wanted him to put her down. He did so reluctantly, and then blinked with shock as she stooped down, clever fingers grabbing at the buttons of his fly.

"Maybe you will like it, who knows?" He was big enough, and aroused enough, that she only had to unfasten the first button to encounter the tip of his cock.

Steve let out a yelp as Skye licked him. "Oh, dear God!"

"He ain't gonna save you from this," Skye warned with a chuckle, unfastening more buttons so she could get her hands on him. Steve shuddered, his hands moving uncertainly, one dropping to thread gently into her hair. She was pretty sure he wasn't going to shove her down on his cock so she let him stroke her hair as she licked around his tip again before slowly sliding her mouth down, taking in as much of him as she could.

Oh, shit, it had been way too long. Steve had denied himself even the release of his own hand since he realised, a week after Malta, that every single time he jacked off he came gasping out Skye's name. It was degrading to her, and very wrong, he was convinced. But his body was built for peak performance in all areas, and that included sex. All those weeks without release had pent up in him until the slightest touch of her hot mouth had him right on the edge.

"Skye, I'm gonna come," he gasped, tugging slightly at her hair, trying to pull her off him. "I can't – Skye." It was a guttural moan as she put both hands firmly around the lower half of his cock and sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing.

What the hell has the poor man been doing to himself? was all Skye had time to wonder before Steve came, moaning her name, hot jets of his semen hitting the back of her throat. She swallowed, licking him clean gently as he shuddered.

"You were wrong," Steve muttered hoarsely after a few moments.

"What about?" she looked up at him, dark eyes laughing.

"That I wouldn't like it."

"Funny, that." He was still rock-hard in her hands. She stroked experimentally and he groaned. "Fucking hell, Steve, what have you been doing?"

There was a dull flush burning on his high cheekbones. "It's what I've not been doing," he muttered shame-facedly. "I need – since the serum, my body needs – oh, God, Skye – regular release."

"And why haven't you, then? Not so much why haven't you just been banging girls – or guys – left right and centre, I get that you wouldn't be into that, with your moral code, but surely you're not so Catholic you think masturbating will make you go blind or something?" Skye never let up with the movement of her hands on him, enjoying the short, harsh breaths and low moans he let out.

"I," he looked down at her, swallowed raggedly and reached down, taking her hands and lifting them off him, "I kept fantasizing about you. I didn't want to, I knew it was wrong, but even if I tried – well, no matter what I tried, it was you in my mind when I came."

Skye grinned up at him. "What, you think it's wrong to wank thinking about someone who's not your sexual partner? Seriously? You're going to condemn all those girls – and guys – who jack off thinking about Captain America?"

"That's – it's different!" He blushed harder. "They don't know me."

Skye grinned mischievously. "Some of them might. One certainly does."

"What?"

"The night after we first met, right here, when you made me laugh," she stood on tiptoe and reached up to whisper in his ear, "I lay in bed and thought about you."

Steve swallowed. "Did you use Bob?"

"What?" she blinked.

Oh, God, she didn't remember him using the vibrator on her. "Uhhhh…"

Skye grinned. "So that's how you did it. Who searched my room and gave you Bob?"

"Agent May," relieved she wasn't mad, Steve happily threw May to the metaphorical wolves.

"Well, yes. I did use Bob and I thought about you. And it wasn't the first or the last time." Skye smirked wickedly up at him.

"Oh dear God," she wasn't even touching him, and just thinking about Skye lying on her bed, using that vibrator on herself, maybe moaning his name, had Steve edging too close again. "Skye," his voice came out low and rasping, and she pulled her hands from his and reached for his cock again. "No!" he grabbed her wrists, holding her away from him. "Not – here. I want…" he swallowed hard, fighting down the orgasm trying to explode through him.

"A bed?" Skye suggested. "Because I'm betting Stark will burn all these gym mats if we get any more down and dirty here than we already have."

Steve couldn't help but grin. "You're probably right. Will you come to my apartment?"

"Love to," she smiled artlessly up at him. "But only if you absolutely promise to put this to its proper use." A delicate caress over his cock almost had him seeing stars.

"Yes," it was actually painful to tuck himself back into his jeans and fasten the buttons, but he didn't want to risk an embarrassing meeting in the elevator. Not that JARVIS would let anyone else in the elevator if he and Skye were having an intimate encounter…

Steve realised he was staring at Skye, thinking about holding her up against the elevator wall and fucking into her with long, deep strokes. He swallowed and looked away. "JARVIS, we're going to my apartment. Elevator please, and take the gym off lockdown."

"Of course, Captain Rogers," JARVIS responded, and the elevator doors slid open.

Steve was having trouble walking. And it was made worse by watching Skye sashaying in front of him, her hips swaying, her slender legs and those boots…

"You're doing that deliberately," he accused a bit breathlessly.

"Who, me?" she peeked over her shoulder at him, her dark hair swinging softly around her face. "Is there a problem, Mr Rogers?"

"You know damn well there is!" he lost it in a surge of need and shoved her up against the elevator wall, huge hands lifting her hips effortlessly until he could grind himself against her ass. "I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk," he moaned, all inhibitions wrecked by the frantic need to have her. "And then I'm gonna do it again."

For just a moment he thought he'd pushed too hard; that he'd scared her. And then she reached back behind her head, arching her back, putting her arms around his neck and twisting around to kiss him. "Hurry the fuck up, then," she panted between kisses.

JARVIS pinged discreetly as the elevator doors slid open, and Steve turned Skye around and lifted her, carrying her effortlessly into his apartment. She wrapped her legs around his waist again and this time, he dared to put a hand on her ass. And because her skirt rode up when she put her legs around his waist, it was an ass bare except for a pair of what felt like very tiny silky panties. Wet silky panties.

Skye moaned against Steve's throat. "Bed. Now. Or floor. Don't care."

"I do care," he muttered gruffly, taking long strides towards his bedroom, mentally cursing Tony – why the fuck were these apartments so huge? It was way too far from the elevator to the bed. Actually, he'd heard Clint bemoan that very same thing and not understood. Right now, he sympathised.

Finally they reached the bed and he was about to lower Skye onto it, but she clung on like a monkey and tugged him down with her, tearing at his shirt. He reared back and dragged it off over his head.

"Damn, you really are that built," Skye explored him with her eyes. "I thought I'd imagined it."

Steve flushed. "What – what do you remember?"

"Not Bob, apparently," dancing dark eyes met his, and he let out a slight cough of embarrassment. "I – honestly I'm not sure. It's kind of all mixed up and I'm not sure which bits I dreamed and which bits are real."

"Dreamed?"

"Yeah, dreamed." She poked a firm finger into his pectoral muscle. "You've been behaving very badly in my dreams, Mr Rogers."

"Yeah?" his grin turned sensual. "How badly? This badly?" His hand ran up between her thighs suddenly, plucking at those damp silky panties. God, but he wanted to taste her again.

"Much worse than that," Skye let out a small gasp as one long finger insinuated beneath the wet fabric. "Steve!"

"I want to see you," he said hoarsely, "please."

"No!"

"What?" he froze at her sudden, emphatic refusal.

"It's my turn." Skye pushed at him, and while her slight strength would have been completely ineffective against his bulk, he let her move him away. "Or rather, your turn. You already got to see me naked. Get 'em off, Rogers. I want to see the goods."

"As long as I get to take your clothes off next," he bargained.

"You can take them off with your teeth if you want, I don't care, but not so much as this scarf is coming off until I've seen the full package." She flicked the ends of her scarf at him, the soft trailing threads ghosting over his chest, and he sucked in another hard breath before getting – somewhat painfully – off the bed to divest himself of his jeans.

Aaaand I'm gonna stop there – this chapter's already too long. Sorry, you'll have to wait until next time to see if Steve and Skye finally get around to making the beast with two backs!

(Not quite a cliffhanger – but just as annoying!)