You barely made it inside the safehouse before Bucky slammed the door shut and shoved you face-first against the wall. His metal hand locked around the back of your neck, cold and unyielding, while his flesh fingers yanked your pants down hard enough to make the seams pop.
“Been thinking about this cunt all fucking day,” he growled against your ear. “Wet already? Yeah, I can smell it.”
He kicked your legs apart and shoved two fingers straight into you, no warning, just a rough thrust that made your knees buckle. You were soaked, and the wet sound of his fingers pumping in and out filled the small room. Bucky didn’t tease. He finger-fucked you hard and fast, curling those thick digits until your juices ran down his wrist.
“Fuck, listen to that,” he muttered. “Greedy little hole sucking me in.”
You tried to push back against his hand but he pressed you harder into the wall, metal fingers tightening until you felt the pressure in your spine. His cock was already out, hot and heavy against your ass. He didn’t bother with more prep. He pulled his fingers free, spit on his palm, slicked himself once, and drove in.
One brutal thrust buried him to the hilt. You cried out, the stretch burning in the best way. Bucky didn’t stop. He fucked you like he was trying to break something, hips snapping sharp and deep, metal arm keeping you pinned while his other hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise.
“That’s it,” he grunted. “Take every inch. Been dying to wreck this pussy.”
Your forehead knocked against the wall with every thrust. He was thick, veins dragging against your walls, and he angled just right to hit that spot that made your vision blur. You reached down to rub your clit but he slapped your hand away.
“Mine,” he snapped. “You come when I let you.”
He pulled out suddenly, spun you around, and lifted you like you weighed nothing. Your back hit the wall again and he sank back inside in one smooth motion. Your legs locked around his waist. The new angle let him grind deeper, pelvis smashing against your clit with every thrust.
Bucky’s mouth was filthy the whole time. “Look at you dripping down my cock. Such a messy fucking slut for me.” His metal thumb found your clit and rubbed tight, relentless circles. “Gonna come all over me? Do it. Soak my dick.”
You shattered with a hoarse shout, walls clamping down hard. Bucky fucked you straight through it, not slowing, drawing it out until your thighs shook. Only then did he pull out and drop you to your knees.
“Open,” he ordered.
You did. He shoved his cock into your mouth, metal hand fisting your hair, and fucked your throat in short, rough strokes. You gagged, spit running down your chin, but he didn’t ease up. “Good girl. Choke on it.”
When he was close he yanked you up again, bent you over the nearest table, and slammed back inside. This time he was chasing his own release, pace brutal. The table legs scraped across the floor. His metal fingers reached around to pinch your clit again and you came a second time, sobbing, while he buried himself to the root and flooded you.
Hot pulses filled you deep. Bucky stayed inside, grinding through the aftershocks, metal hand stroking down your spine almost gently now.
“Fuck,” he breathed, voice rough. “Still twitching around me.”
He pulled out slow, watching his cum drip out of you. Then he scooped you up, carried you to the couch, and laid you down. His mouth was on your pussy again a second later, tongue lapping at the mess he’d made, cleaning you with broad, filthy strokes until you came once more, softer this time, thighs clamped around his head.
Afterward he pulled you against his chest, metal arm draped over you, both of you breathing hard. His lips brushed your temple.
“Next time,” he muttered, “I’m tying you to the bed first.”
