for bucky.

[marriageable]

[ She should really be heading home.

It’s the same thought she’s been having for the past hour — everybody else had filed out long ago, the hour hand on the wall ticking past eight. The museum had been closed three hours past already; she was sure to hear it from her mother for being late again to supper. It was not like Daphne to be late anywhere, save for the acceptable tardiness when one was being fashionable, or giving the host time to freshen up.

But she likes her job, and she really doesn’t mind the tasks handed to her; she’s the youngest of the curators, after all, eager to prove her worth.

Even if not absorbed in her work, she would think anything of a creak, or a shuffling noise in the distance. Maintenance came in at night, and old buildings make all sorts of noises.

None of it registers, until she shoulders her purse and flicks the lights off. A rustle, followed by a thud. In the dim hallway, she casts her eyes over toward the open door to the director’s office.

Something stills her from moving forward, but she calls out anyways, because it’s nothing, naturally, just another weekday night — ]

I’m heading out now, Dr. Porter. I’ll see you in the morning.

Comments

[ostavil]

( He doesn't begrudge her this, knowing that heat must be hurting her terribly. He slips his left hand up as high as he dares on her thigh just to reassure her that he wants to be touching her and simply can't right now. )

Do what you need. We'll be there soon.

[marriageable]

[ It’s nice, that cool metal on her overheated skin, encourages her as much as his permission to start rubbing at herself, wasting no time. She starts with her eyes closed, but turns her face when she slips a finger in, then another. ]

[ostavil]

( Nothing ever distracts him but this distracts him, the thick scent of her in his nose, and he glances over more than once to watch her fingers working against her cunt. )

Only a few more kilometers and we will be somewhere safe. You can be safe.

[marriageable]

[ There’s no telling how fast they’re going. Daphne can’t keep her eyes on more than him, can barely keep her eyes open to start with, much less the speedometer.

Three fingers is her preference, one foot braced against the dashboard while she fucks herself fast the way he had fucked her, crying out with every upward thrust. ]

[ostavil]

( It is difficult to stay on the road when she's doing this, when he can smell her so sweet and thick in the closed-in space of the car. The safe house is off a smaller road and up a steep driveway; everything to make it more difficult to get inside.

When he's able to shift the vehicle into park, he reaches over so he can undo her seatbelt and gives her a kiss. )

[marriageable]

[ The bumpy road is not exactly conducive for what she’s doing, and when they stop, she could weep for joy. Throwing caution to the wind, she pushes him back and slithers over the center console that divides them and into his lap, pressing kisses to his mouth, hot with her hunger. ]

[ostavil]

( He has very little idea of what is good and what is great, especially as it comes to this, but when Daphne slides into his lap and starts kissing him again, he slides his right hand under her skirt to touch her.

She's slick, so slick that his fingers glide against her easily, and he works in two of them while he touches her in an attempt to give her what she's been craving this whole time. )

[marriageable]

[ She holds his throat possessively while they kiss, and moans in eager approval, hips shifting, unable to stop moving until he gets his fingers up into her. She wastes no time riding them, anchoring one hand on his shoulder strap. ]

[ostavil]

( Two doesn't seem to be enough and so he adds a third, sighing when he feels just how tight Daphne is around him. He will knot her again as soon as he can get them inside and ensure their safety but for now, he will make her feel better. This is his purpose. )

[marriageable]

[ Her head bends forward, forehead seated against his, as he fingers her into oblivion. She doesn’t take long; her other hand smacks against the car ceiling, bracing, tensing, a warning of what is to come. Her climax is announced with a yelp, forcing his fingers free and splashing against his lap. ]

[ostavil]

( Her scent, already strong, floods his nose when she comes and she's so slick that his fingers are dripping with her. He brings them to his mouth to taste and he isn't disappointed: she tastes exactly as good as she smells, possibly even better. )

Come with me inside so I can knot you again. Is that what you need?

[marriageable]

[ It takes the edge off, but the heat remains. A battle won, not the war.

Trembling, weak from her orgasm, she slumps against him. ] Yes. [ Mumble. ] Need your knot.

[ostavil]

( She is so slight that it is nothing to pick her up in his arms and cradle to her chest while he walks to the door. These sites always have keypads instead of regular locks and keys so he only needs one hand to unlock the door to let them in.

He doesn't know what in this place other than basic supplies but it won't matter at all for the first little while. He'll just find the bedroom and put Daphne down there so they can attend to her need first. Luckily, the bed is made and he can let her down onto the mattress gently. )

[marriageable]

[ Daphne doesn’t pay much mind to their new surroundings, not really taking them in, not really thinking about anything besides the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath hers, how his smell is highest where her head has nestled against his throat.

She whimpers when he lowers her to the mattress, sorry for the loss of his warmth and nearness, clammy with heat. Nevertheless, she manages to wriggle out of her skirt and blouse, leaving the bra and her ruined underwear.

Something primal and docile tells her to get on her knees, a pretty present for him. ]

[ostavil]

( It is a pretty picture and he pulls away her underwear without much thought before shoving down his own pants to slide into her. He does it without asking, without preamble, because he can smell how ready she is for him.

He's burning for her as much as she's burning for him and the only relief he can get is by fucking her, hands grasping her hips tightly. )

[marriageable]

[ She had already forgotten how large he was, speechless at first, thinks she cannot possibly take him, but she does.

Daphne produces a sound that cannot be called human, almost like a yowl, at the first of many thrusts, but it’s not a sound that speaks to any pain or displeasure. On the contrary, she tilts her hips, tries to change the angle a little, undulating though his grip on her is vice-like. ]

[ostavil]

( It is all instinct now, pushing deep into her and grasping her soft flesh with little thought for how bruising his fingers might be. He will take care of her afterward, yes, but now he needs this almost as much as she needs it.

Her scent is full bloom in his nose and he snarls even though there is no one around to be jealous of. )

[marriageable]

[ Primeval understanding connects them, and she knows, simply knows that he is claiming with that growl, guarding her like a precious thing must be guarded. She draws a hand up from the mattress, with some difficulty as he fucks her with such ferocity, to place over the hand secured to her hip, letting him know with only touch: I am here. I am yours. ]

[ostavil]

( The touch grounds him and soothes him in a way nothing else really can for a moment and when his knot catches, he ruts into her a few more times until he comes.

He leans over a bit and kisses her skin, trying to be reassuring. )

[marriageable]

[ She doesn’t join him, but it turns out she doesn’t need to; his climax is enough to sate her, little mewls of pleasure vibrating from her throat, her eyes shut as she lets her body mold into the bedding beneath his own. ]

[ostavil]

Are you all right?

( He feels protective now, covering her this way, and he pitches his voice low and soft. )

[marriageable]

[ Nothing is wrong, exactly, but still, her heart somersaults in the cavity of her chest; she trembles, clammy, glad that his body is drawn over hers. ]

Yes. [ She moves her head to the side, just enough that her voice is not so muffled. ] I’m cold.

[ostavil]

Let me move us.

( He gathers her tight to him so they can roll onto their sides, still knotted, and tugs the blanket up to cover them. )

Better now?

[marriageable]

[ She nods, for his sake, though the blanket is, she cannot help but notice with growing awareness, scratchy on her skin. that is something that has her nose scrunched up, unhappily. ]

[ostavil]

( He can tell that there's something she dislikes and he frowns deeply; whatever it is, he has to fix it. )

Is there something wrong? What do you need?