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“How long are you going to be gone?” you asked.
“Few days, maybe a week,” Steve shrugged. He shoved some clothes in his duffle bag, but he was watching you out of the corner of his eye.
You stretched, knowing full well that it was putting every inch of your body on full display, your breasts exposed, your bare legs tangled in the sheets. “But, I’m going to miss you,” you murmured.
Steve’s cheeks flushed pink and a low growl rumbled from his chest, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He reached for your ankle, most likely to drag you across the bed, but just then the bathroom door slammed closed.
“Who you gonna miss, Y/N?” Bucky asked, sauntering across the room to the bed.
“Steve’s leaving,” you pouted playfully.
Bucky dropped to the bed beside you, his arm sliding around you, his lips on your neck. “I’ll keep you busy,” he mumbled.
“Get outta my bed,” Steve growled.
“That’s not what you told us to do last night,” you giggled.
“And not when she’s in it,” Bucky shot back, his voice muffled as his lips blazed a trail down your neck.
“Don’t have too much fun,” Steve muttered as he grabbed his bag and headed for the door.
“Steve wait,” you called after him. You pushed away from Bucky, who released you immediately so you could stumble out of the bed after Steve. You raced across the room, sheet clasped between your breasts, your backside bare. You threw an arm around Steve’s neck, pushed up on your toes, and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.
“Hurry back,” you murmured. “And be safe.”
“I will,” he vowed before vanishing out the door.
“Come back to bed,” Bucky ordered.
“Yes, sir,” you laughed.
You kicked off your shoes, then you peeled off your sweaty workout clothes and tossed them in the hamper by the door.
“I need a shower,” you mumbled.
Bucky grabbed you from behind, his arms around your waist, his mouth against your ear. “Let’s take advantage of that huge bathtub in Steve’s room,” he whispered.
“Without him?” you said.
“He snoozes, he loses,” Bucky chuckled. “Come on.”
He caught your hand in his and dragged you out of your room, down two doors to Steve’s room, and into the bathroom. He had the water filling the tub in seconds, then he was stripping you of your sports bra and panties, rough and impatient. Bucky’s hunger for you knew no bounds.
“Get in,” he said, pointing at the almost full tub.
The bathtub really was huge. Tony had spared no expense when refinishing the compound, retrofitting every room with top of the line electronics, and anything and everything they could imagine to make their lives easier. The bathrooms were no exception - giant walk-in showers, jacuzzi-sized tubs, full-length mirrors, and the largest, fuzziest bath sheets money could buy.
You did as Bucky ordered, sliding into the warm water with a sigh and running the soap over your body, washing the sweat from your workout off, watching Bucky as he removed his own clothes and set his phone on a low shelf beside the large tub. Bucky slipped in behind you, his legs on either side of your hips, his right arm sliding around your waist, his metal one resting on the edge of the tub. He tugged you back against his chest, his fingers drifting up and down your stomach, his nose buried in your hair. You rubbed the soap between your hands until it was foaming, bubbles dripping back into the water. You ran it up and down his legs, relishing the feel of his muscles twitching beneath your hands. He pushed your hair out of the way, his mouth closing over the juncture where your shoulder met your neck, sucking a dark mark into your skin, the hand on your stomach moving lower and lower until the tips of his fingers were brushing against the lips of your pussy. Your hips jerked, moving toward the long digits.
“Impatient, doll?” Bucky drawled.
“Yes,” you hissed. “Jesus Christ, yes.”
“What did you say?” he growled, one finger easing into you, pumping it maddeningly slow.
“Y-yes, sir,” you gasped.
“That’s better,” he murmured, catching your earlobe between his teeth, nipping it playfully.
You fell back against his chest, moaning quietly, your eyes closed. Your hips moved with Bucky’s hand, the water sloshing along the sides of the tub, droplets of water splashing against the tile walls. Bucky was moving with you, three fingers buried deep inside you, fucking you, his cock rock hard against your back, the muscles in his arms taut, quiet grunts coming from him.
You could feel the orgasm building, building until you were coming, body tensing, Bucky’s name a curse on your lips. He let loose a feral snarl and then he was lifting you and lowering you onto his long shaft. You groaned as he filled you, stretching you open, his hand on your ass, bruisingly tight, need and desire making you shudder from head to toe.
“Move, doll,” he ordered and you obeyed, immediately, one hand on Bucky’s leg, the other gripping the edge of the tub, as you slid up and down the length of his cock, a deep, guttural moan leaving you every time it brushed your sweet spot.
You were moving at a frenzied pace, chasing your orgasm, Bucky urging you on, his words of encouragement drowned out by the echoing splash of the water hitting the floor. You were moaning, keening really, the pleasure almost too much to take, another orgasm within your grasp. Bucky’s metal hand slid between your legs, one finger circling your clit, pushing you over the edge, your hips bucking as the full force of the orgasm assaulted you.
Bucky groaned, his hips coming up so he could bury himself deep inside of you, his cock throbbing and pulsing. You ground down on him, drawing out the pleasure, until you couldn’t take anymore and you fell forward, your hands splayed across the bottom of the tub, Bucky’s cock softening between your legs.
He sat up and pulled you back into his arms, plastering you with kisses. You reached up and tangled your fingers in his hair, tipping your head back so he could reach your lips. You breathed a contented sigh.
Bucky grabbed his phone, a wicked grin on his face. “Look,” he said, showing you the picture he’d taken. “Should we send it to Steve?”
You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying not to giggle, to no avail. “Oh, he’s gonna be ticked he missed the fun.” You and Bucky exchanged a look. “Do it.”
Bucky laughed, quickly typed something and hit send. “Done,” he laughed.
“How long do you think it will take him to respond,” you asked.
As soon as the words left your mouth, Bucky’s phone rang, Steve’s name and number lighting up the screen.
“Hey, punk,” Bucky answered. “You miss us yet?”