[Quiet in the Chaos]

~40~

                                        ~40~

"When you move,
I can recall somethin' that's gone from me,
When you move,
Honey, I'm put in awe of somethin' so flawed and free."

<'Movement'> Hozier.

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THAT ONE word drives him nuts and instantly, his teasing has diminished, scooping her up and sliding her onto the marble counter top before he dives toward her, their tongues crashing together. He traps her, both strong arms set either side of her.

She whimpers, the sound drowned out by his lips, her hands clasped around his neck. His hands slide down underneath the hem of her shirt. She gasps as the coolness of his metal hand slips underneath her bra.

"Bucky," she pants.

"What do you want? Use your words, baby," he pulls away for a moment to ask, knowing his delaying is driving the girl nuts.

"I want to feel you," she answers eventually.

His fingers grip the waist of her leggings tugging them off in a swift motion, almost pulling her off the countertop.

He lowers himself, agonisingly slowly pulling the hem of her underwear down over her legs. He bobs back up, planting kisses on the inside of her thighs.

She groans in frustration and he finally gives in, flicking his tongue along her sensitive area. Her back arches.

His mouth remains on her for a moment, she moans and he straightens. He reaches for the collar of her t shirt and rips it in two halves, tossing it to the side. He admires her for a moment, running his hands up her exposed skin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, leaning forward and marking her with bruising kisses down her chest. "Is this what you want, Doll?"

She barely forms a hum in agreement, her eyes rolling. He slips his hand down, his fingers slipping between her legs. "Fuck," she breathes.

Her legs wrap around his waist and she leans forward, frustratedly tugging his shirt over his head. Her soft hands roam down to his chiselled abs to his belt. She fumbles with the buckle, her mouth still against his.

"Hold on," he pants.

"What is it?" she asks.

He doesn't respond, scooping her up and moving towards the bedroom. "Not here."

"Why not?" she whines.

"I want you to be comfortable."

She smiles against his lips, thinking better than to tell him she's perfectly happy on the counter.

She releases a laugh as he bumps her into the doorframe and he murmurs a muffled apology. She bites her lip, his strong arms tossing her onto the mattress. His hands rest either side of her head and she grasps the button of his jeans. She impatiently tugs them down, he laughs, eventually kicking them off himself, along with his boxers.

She grasps the bed sheets as his lips meeting the soft skin of her stomach.

"I need you," she repeats her earlier words, her voice husky as she grasps his face and pulling him back up to her lips.

Her eyes squeeze shut, an involuntary moan slipping from her lips as she feels him slip inside of her. She inhaled sharply. He moves slowly first, feeling the rigidity of her body. "Is this OK?" he breathes, his hand reaching behind her and unclasping her bra. He slips it off, his large hand cupping her breast.