Darcy/Rumlow
Brock stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towel that was hanging from the hook. It still smelled a little bit like her shampoo, and he savored the scent as he toweled himself off. The mission had been successful, they’d done everything they were supposed to do. It hadn’t… sat right. It smelled like a setup. He’d long since learned to trust his instincts. It was something to puzzle over tomorrow. Right now… Right now his bed was just a few steps away, and there was already someone in it.
He paused in the doorway, looking at the body of the woman in his bed. His eyes followed the curve of her hip as she sighed and turned over. He knew they didn’t have much time, that soon she would have to leave. Fucking shame, too.
It was lucky timing, her calling him and telling him that Coulson had insisted she come down to see if she could get a face-to-face with Fury. That wasn’t gonna happen, but he knew he could see her safer than what was bound to happen on the Bus. Fucking Ward… Brock wanted some personal time with Ward, teach him not to fuck with other people’s lives on the excuse of his cover. The rest of it he could understand, but there was no excuse for being dangerously bad at his job.
It was impossible for him to stand there when the sheet dipped down to reveal her tits. His body was still raging with adrenaline, and he flipped off the light before crossing to the bed and climbing in.
She was warm, so warm. He turned her gently away from him and curled himself around her back. His hand slid over her hip and down between her thighs, lifting her leg and pulling it back over his, opening her…
She made a little noise when he set his fingers against her clit. “Just get wet for me,” he urged, and he felt her hand pushing through his hair. She was starting to shake, her body quivering against him, and he moved until he was sliding home, balls-deep in the wet heat of her cunt.