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Dangerous. That’s what his kisses are like. Teetering on the edge of a cliff. The rush of the unknown thrills her in substantial amounts. Coated in saccharine crimson.
He was always hot. His touch, scalding. His stares, chilling with a hint of demise and an urge to peel back every risky behaviour that threatens her crown. And yet she has never felt sparks so jarringly white hot in whatever he does. But she remembers one small fickle dilemma in this certain tryst. She was on her period.
“Namor-“she whimpers, his mouth sucking on the base of her neck as she tilts her head back in eye-rolling need. The heat from his mouth a counter of his touch.
Another moan slips from her lips and his hands are squeezing at every expanse of skin she can bare for him, the other wrapping around her waist, slipping under her silk nightie and dangerously reaching at the edge of her bralette. The heat from his fingers making her nipples harden and making her fall apart. He has no other motive but to ruin her.
“Please Namor,” she sighs, her body going lax in his embrace, as if under some heavy weight spell. Need, relief, desire, and it’s desperate and it washes over her as she feels tightness around her throat, his teeth scraping down the slope of her neck onto her collarbones and constricting her every breath. But she likes it just like that. Goosebumps following the trail of his nasal piece, barely scraping her skin.
Every sane decision, she tosses carelessly to every abyss of space that exists. She runs her palms up his back and feels the ridges of her healed claw marks. She can feel the way his body remembers how those marks got there. Feels it in the way he slightly gasps and arches his back under her touch. The move is sudden but it’s not out of fear, as much as it was out of impulse. Its when his hands are creeping closer to the band of her blushing shorts that barely covers her thighs. Here she finally wills every ounce of propriety back.
She grabs his hand and he releases his sinful mouth that’s travelled from her neck to the tops of her chest. Just one more inch and he would’ve encased one tight nipple in his hot mouth through what little thin fabric that separates his tongue from her skin.
“What?” he whispers, his forehead resting in between her breasts and they’re both heaving sighs from all their pent up need.
“I’m on my period,” she mumbles, resting a hand on the back of his neck and effortlessly brushes her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. She feels him pull back and she wonders just how she’s gone and ruined it now.
After a long pause, her breathing slowing down as she finally opens her eyes to meet his flaming ones. They have never looked more enchanting, more encapsulating.
He cusps both sides of her face with large, reassuring hands and presses a kiss so deep she feels it in her throat and they’re both moaning from how sensually lust inducing a pair of lips could feel. Too soon he pulls back and even then, she notices his eyes are closed, he’s taking deep breaths, his nostrils breathing her in as his tongue lathers over his bottom lip. He finally opens his eyes and gravelly zeroes in on her lips, feeling them trace down her body, slowly shaking his head.
“I don’t care,” he finally says, stifling her to silence before she starts to protest, though the sounds she projects are more telling of her libido than her dissent.
“Namor-“
“I’d fuck your cunt spit, cum or blood stained and you should know that by now.”
She couldn’t grow any wetter than she already was, her cramps tingling her in her black cotton panties and she for a moment registers a biomedical fact – orgasms can cause euphoria so much so pain is an illusion lost to brain capacity function.
“B-but wouldn’t it be gross-“
“You’re not afraid of a little blood are you Warrior Princess?” he asks, stalking her body backwards till she feels the satin feel of her duvet covers brush her back.
This was the thing about him. So damn insisting and all the more intrinsically overpowering and all her life she has never lusted for anything more. He presses his lips just under her clavicle all the while pulling the tops of her bralette over her tightened buds and her body shudders as he tongues a nipple into his hot mouth. Taut and sensitive as he releases with a pop, coolly blowing against it. Her hand pulls harder at his hair and he takes that moment to thrust forward, grinding against her centre, albeit nudging the liner she adorned just right against her clit and the motion alone has her gasping for breath only he can revive within her.
The broken soldier was nowhere to be found in her mind.
~
It didn’t take her long to find the rim of her glass more entertaining than the conversation. The boaster party reducing to mere lulled, muted pulses in her ears, and perhaps she could blame it on the subpar music or the mediocre tell-all joke the white wolf keeps repeating. Despite the ruckus and the flamboyant shit show of an attempt of this party the philanthropist-slash-billionaire orchestrated, she would very much like to leave. Preferably with the stunning lad who not once has taken his eyes off of her, making every strand of hair on her skin stand in an almost sinister wanton need for attention.
She knew there was something about him that frosted her to the bone. His brown eyes all knowing as he gazes shamelessly upon her did wonders to contrast his dark suit. He is like the sun he brought to his people, and now he undoubtedly lightens her world up in flames. His dark, smooth locks and the little part on the side that showed a crisp fair line; a line she would very much like to cross over. She played the coy tune, acutely aware of him and yet trying her might to ignore him.
“Shuri!”
She jostles awake from her mind-trip now that her faithful guard calls her out amidst the small crowd gathered in front of Bucky. She meets his eyes and his narrows for a split moment, almost as if coercing a conclusion, much like drawing a type of conclusion where she wasn’t interested anymore. Neither in him nor the story. She swallows, his baby blues rarely causing any effect on her, at least not anymore.
“Sorry, just got carried away with a design in mind Sergeant Barnes- would you excuse me?” she pleasantly lies with a smile that barely accounts as one, turns her back towards the group and in her line she sees the dark suited man slip out of the room but not without catching her eyes one last time. The last thing she sees, is a wicked smirk and she’s already made up her mind. She could not care for Bucky’s attempt to bring her back with his once sweetened voice that used to make her heart skip… she found she could live on.
But a hand stops her from advancing out of the room, and she rolls her eyes and dejectedly rips her arm from the man’s grasp to fold over her chest.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, brows furrowed as if he was really concerned.
“Nothing.”
Or in other words; leave me alone.
He quickly glances around the room, pushes his palms into his pockets and bends his head just enough to whisper his next words. Maybe before she would’ve jumped over hills at the gesture, but quickly her childishness sours her tongue.
“Is this about… about before?”
She almost laughed in his face. Would’ve slapped him too. She thought of a million different ways to disarm him of her most precious design or better yet just give him one good kick to his dick. But old Shuri would’ve done that. New Shuri is being watched. New Shuri is the Black Panther now. All about grace and nobility, honour and justice. She has to let new Shuri win here.
So, she smiles, the kind she gives to her young nephew and the little kids that come around the lab for excursions. She takes a step to his side, places a cold palm on his shoulder, the shoulder that connected her golden marbled arm to his serum jacked body and breathes her words.
“Call it a high school crush Buck,” she mutters, a smirk slowly making its way unwillingly on her face as she leans forward to whisper a lasting impression in his ear.
“I’m good.”
And she truly was.
She could care less for his longing stare behind her as she finds her dashing Feather Serpent God, linking her thin fingers in between his regal digits as Namor pulls her away and far from the party to ravish her good and well out of any thoughts of the winter soldier.