Charm

Congressman James Buchanan Barnes raked his hand through his hair for the third time. It was overlong, curling at the nape of his neck, caught somewhere between rebellion and control.

Just like his life.

His tie was long gone, jacket tossed over a chair, but the tension still clung to him like sweat. His fingers twitched with the restraint of a man used to control, but tonight that control was slipping.

Because of you.

He was going to meet you. Spend time with you.

You, his softest vulnerability. His secret sanctuary. You had no idea what you did to him. Or maybe you did. And that was the problem.

Underneath the pressed shirt and tailored slacks, beneath the titles and speeches and the weight of his legacy, James Buchanan Barnes was unraveling. You touched something in him, something sweet and unguarded.

You looked at him like he wasn’t just a polished man with power, but someone worth seeing. You saw past all of it, the headlines, the pressure, the myth of the man, to the boy who once just wanted to be good.

Of course you did. As a teacher, you saw the good in all of your students. And from the moment he’d met you, bright-eyed and brilliant, part of the National Teaching Conference delegation touring the Capitol, he’d been a goner.

So he pursued you. But you’d made him wait. And you’d made him want. And Bucky had never wanted anything the way he wanted you.

When he thought of you, he forgot all about The Honorable James Buchanan Barnes.

He just wanted to be your Bucky.

—-

Six Weeks earlier:

You’d expected a polite handshake and a few photo ops when you went on the tour, but Congressman Barnes from your borough of Brooklyn was charming, attentive, and deeply present in a way that threw you off balance. His gaze lingered just a second too long when he looked at you, and your heartbeat stuttered every time his hand brushed yours.

You weren’t sure what it meant, you just knew it meant something.

The first night ended with a drink in the hotel bar, where he asked thoughtful questions about education and leaned in like your answers were gravity. When he walked you to your room, he didn’t ask to come in, just touched your wrist and said, “I’ll see you again, Charm.”

“Charm?” you questioned him as he walked away.

Bucky turned around and started to walk backwards as he replied.

“Yeah. It’s my name for you in my head,” and he grinned before he got in the elevator, looking so much younger than 110 years old.

Weeks later, you were still texting late into the night. Breathless calls. Heated messages. A video chat that ended with both of you flushed and desperate.

It was intoxicating stuff.

----

Now:

You were finally back in D.C. for the National Teaching Conference. Because you were on the planning committee, you’d been running around in a blazer and sneakers all week, putting out fires, herding speakers, and keeping the entire operation from collapsing.

But Friday night was yours.

The conference ended, the final panel was a wrap, and you still had the swanky suite for two more nights. It had a skyline view, a rain-slicked windowpane, and, within the hour, one James Buchanan Barnes.

You’d barely stepped out of the shower, steam curling in the air, when you heard the knock.

He was thirty minutes early.

You froze for half a second, heart racing, then wrapped the towel tighter and padded to the door.

Bucky stood in the hallway, soaked to the bone from the spring storm, dark hair dripping, a gray coat clinging to broad shoulders. Water tracked down his jaw and disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt.

And those beautiful blue eyes were locked on you.

“Hey, Charm,” he rasped.

You swallowed hard. “Congressman.”

That smirk flickered at the corners of his mouth.

“Gonna let me in?”

You stepped aside. The door shut behind him, shutting the world out. Bucky looked at you like he hadn’t seen you in years, not weeks.

“I missed you,” you said softly, voice a breath.

He was on you in a heartbeat. One hand cupped your chin, the other, vibranium, gleaming in the soft hotel light, slid around your waist, pulling you flush to him. You melted, your fingers slipping beneath the lapels of his coat, feeling the heat of him under damp clothes.

You didn’t find the sharp muscle of the old soldier, but the solid strength of a man who lived his life with purpose. His softness did not take the edge off your desire for him.

In fact, it probably made it worse. He wasn’t a weapon. He was a man.

Your man.

You were going to claim him tonight.

“Been sittin’ through policy meetings imagining you riding me in the chair behind my desk,” he muttered into your skin, pressing a kiss below your jaw.

You gasped, shivering despite the heat between you.

You grew a little dizzy as Bucky dropped his overnight bag to the floor so that your hands could slip under his shirt, and drag your fingers over his soft, but still-defined abs.

“Then maybe we should make that image real.”

His eyes were dark now, pupils already blown. One arm snaked up your back and tangled in the hair at your nape, pulling your head back as he kissed you hard, like he meant to claim you. His vibranium hand gripped your waist like it was built for that exact purpose.

“Tonight, I don’t want polite. Don’t want careful.”

You’d planned for this. Took your precautions. Got tested. You both knew what tonight meant.

Bucky walked you backwards toward the bed, slow and steady, never breaking eye contact.

“I want to watch you take what you want from me.”

Your lips curved into a smile.

“I want a lot from you, Mr. Barnes,” you whispered.

“Take your shirt off,” you said softly, watching the way his jaw flexed and the way his eyes flicked to your mouth.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a crooked smile.

God. Could you be in love?

He stripped off his shirt in one fluid motion. Muscles rippled, dog tags glinting against his skin. He didn’t pose. He just stood there, waiting. Watching you. A man made of flesh and metal and decades of ghosts, and right now, he was all yours.

You moved toward him, fingertips grazing his stomach, and watched the way he twitched beneath your touch.

“You know you can be in control tonight,” you murmured, eyes locked on his as he let you turn him around so that he was at the foot of the bed.

Bucky’s breath hitched.

“I haven’t been in control since the day I met you, Charm.”

You pushed him gently until he sat without resistance, and you stood between his legs, slowly letting the towel drop and pool at your feet. Bucky’s hungry gaze roamed over your body, from your lips, to your neck, to your breasts, focusing on the rigid peaks there as he licked his lips, down your stomach to the apex of your thighs, and lingering there longer.

Finally, his eyes swept down your legs to your feet on the floor, between his shiny Italian loafers.

“You sure you want this?” he asked, voice hoarse as he brought his eyes back up to yours.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you said. “But let’s not rush this, Sergeant.”

His head dropped for a moment like he needed a second just to breathe. That word, Sergeant, hit somewhere deep. Then he looked up and drew you toward him with his metal hand and kissed the inside of your thigh, destroying you.

“Tell me what you want.”

The gravel in his voice did things to you as you carded your fingernails through his thick, wet, dark hair.

You said, “Need your mouth, Bucky,” and he almost came undone right then.

“Such a Good Girl for telling me what you need, Charm.”

His lips were at the edge of your mound, the warmth of his breath fanning out over your clit. You moaned and laid your hands on his solid shoulders, and although they each felt very different under your palms, the disparate sensations only served to make you hotter.

Bucky made eye contact with you and then took a long swipe of his tongue over your wet slit, from top to bottom. A tremble coursed through your body, and you exhaled his name. Bucky stared lovingly at your cunt, from the fat, puffy lips of your labia, to the shine of your juices at your slit.

He licked your essence from his lips and raised his eyes to yours again. He was so fucking handsome. And you were so gone for this man.

Just when you thought that, Bucky stuck his nose in your pussy and inhaled deeply, making you jump in surprise and rapture. He took a quick lick and hummed deeply, sending more vibrations through your cunt.

His metal hand lifted your leg, draped it over his shoulder. His tongue worked in steady, devastating rhythm. Lips suckling, tongue plunging, nose pressed to your clit as he made a low, satisfied sound that vibrated straight through you.

You gasped.

He groaned.

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice muffled against your heat. “So fuckin’ sweet for me.”

And then he ruined you.

He looked up to wink at you playfully before parting your outer lips with his thumbs. He dove in and you saw stars.

Bucky Barnes sucked, licked, and grazed on you, plunging deeply into you with his tongue, fingers, and his whole damn face.

You were lost in the moment, in the pleasure, and the sensations. It was so good. No one had ever made you feel this wanted or needed. You felt the telltale spark ignite your clit and started to squirm as his vibranium hand held you in place as he devoured you like a starving man.

He felt you clench around his fingers, one inside you, one teasing that tight little rim, and you shattered. Bucky held you through it, whispering your name like a religious chant.

Because he worshipped you.

You lay in his arms, spent and limp as Bucky nuzzled at your neck, his dick standing at attention, long, thick, and leaking against you. Somehow, some when, he’d gotten undressed.

And those beautiful blue eyes held you hostage again.

“What do you need now?”

You looked down and reached for him.

“Need to taste you, Sarge.”

His cock was huge, hard, and hot against your skin, begging for relief.

Bucky groaned and his eyes shined as you rose only to sink down on your knees. He sat up on the edge of the bed to witness you gazing up at him. He took himself in hand and started stroking the length of his hardness, swiping precum from the slit at the head in passing.

It was so damn sexy. You licked your lips as your eyes were glued to the beautiful, erotic sight of Bucky Barnes stroking off for you.

He smirked as he watched you hungry for him, impatient to taste him, to take him in, to please him. Your hands cupped and kneaded the full flesh of your breasts, and Bucky licked his lips as you pulled on your nipples.

His flesh fingers squeezed more tightly around his shaft, while his metal hand gave a quick twist to his balls as your heavily hooded eyes drifted from his cock to his face as you moved closer.

You wrapped your lips around him and he cursed, one hand in your hair, the other still at his balls, twisting with just enough pressure.

You worshipped him the way he had you. Took him deep, sloppy and unafraid, letting your desire drip down your chin and soak your chest.

He was losing control.

Sexy rambles tumbled from his lips as you took him deep in your throat.

“Fuck. I’m home. All this time… I thought I thought I knew. Didn’t know shit.”

You moaned as you pulled back slightly to gently lick and suck at the head of his cock, swiping your tongue over his hard length. Then you got sloppy with it, slurping at him and taking his long, thick cock as deep as you could.

Bucky let out an inhuman sound as you gently scraped your teeth along his hard flesh, and then sucked and tongued at his balls.

“Please, baby, fuck…”

He had to pull you off before he lost it. He lifted you, breath ragged, and laid you on the bed like you were breakable but you weren’t. You were so strong. And Powerful.

He draped your legs around his waist as he lined the thick bulb of his cock with your entrance.

As he looked into your eyes, Bucky trembled as you crossed your ankles around his back. You both watched, enraptured, as he pushed inside you, and every inch felt like a lifetime. You pulled him in like a siren, hips rising to meet him, your walls fluttering around him.

You whispered his name, Bucky, and it broke him in the most beautiful way.

He fucked you long, deep, and hard. He played with your body and spanked your full flesh. You came over and over, barely descending from one climax then he was at you again, rolling your clit between his fingers, sucking your tits into his mouth. His cock was relentless, hard as steel, and dripping with your cream.

But he hadn’t let go and given you what you truly wanted.

“Want to ride you Bucky…”

He rolled you over so that you were on top, truly in control, despite your trembling thighs.

“Do you know what you need now, Charm?”

“Oh, I know,” you murmured, rolling your hips as he gasped. “Need to show you that this is mine now.”

You grasped him and positioned him at your entrance. Then, you took him inside you again. His grip on your hips tightened and he nodded, biting his lip as he looked down to where you were joined.

“Yours. Always was.”

You rode him slowly; you wanted him to remember this. The way your body felt wrapped around him. The way you looked on top of him.

The air between you was thick, charged, and the room hummed with the rhythm of your bodies. Each time you sank down onto him, every inch felt like heaven.

Bucky’s breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling beneath you, but his hands didn’t let go of your hips. They were firm, guiding, like he was fighting to hold on to control.

The sight of you was almost too much to bear: you, beautiful and powerful, taking what you needed from him with a relentless grace. His lips parted, and every sound he made was a mixture of frustration and hunger.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he growled, but his voice wavered.

You could tell he was losing his composure, even though his hands kept a firm grip, holding you steady for the next perfect movement.

The tension was building again, just like before. His fingers dug into your skin, almost painfully, but you didn’t care. You were so close to unraveling him completely; it was an art, this dance you had with him, and you were the one in control now.

His gaze flicked between your face and your greedy cunt sucking him in, his chest tightening at the sight of your expression, and at how perfectly you fit together.

“Look at you,” you whispered, leaning in to nip at his earlobe, your voice sultry.

“You look like you’re losing yourself. Can’t hold on, can you?”

Bucky’s hands tightened at your waist, his grip becoming a little rougher. You could feel his body shifting, like he was trying to fight the pull, trying to keep himself from breaking.

“You’re killing me, Doll,” he muttered, eyes closing for a split second before snapping open to look at you again.

His expression was a mess of desire, vulnerability, and something that told you he didn’t want this to end.

“I can’t hold back much longer.”

You grinned, a glint of mischief in your eyes.

You didn’t let up, not even for a second. Instead, you leaned back, giving him a full view of your body. His jaw tightened as he watched, his fingers trembling slightly as you began to move faster, the heat building between you both, the room filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, the rhythm of your bodies synchronizing.

“You’re not the one who gets to decide when it’s over, Sargeant,” you teased, breathless but determined.

“I’m the one calling the shots here.”

And with that, you gave him everything, taking the lead in a way that pushed him past his limits, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through both of you. The intensity in his eyes grew, a mix of awe and surrender, like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

But he also couldn’t stop himself.

You felt it all, the way his grip tightened, the way his body tensed with each thrust of yours, the way he was so close to losing himself. And as you watched him, a small, knowing smile tugged at your lips.

This wasn’t just about sex anymore. This was a power exchange, a moment that was yours, and his, too. You could feel your connection grow stronger.

“Tell me, Bucky,” you whispered, voice a little raspier now, “are you going to beg for it, or are you going to let me take what’s mine?”

He groaned, the sound like a mix of frustration and raw need. You topping him was making the base of his spine hum with pleasure.

“Please, Charm.” he murmured, breath shaking. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

And that was all you needed. You took control fully, fucking him with a rhythm that made his whole body shudder. You could feel the end coming closer, and you didn’t slow down. Not now. Not when you were this close.

“Fuck,” he whispered again, voice broken as you watched him come apart.

You clenched around him and commanded, “Cum.”

And he did, with a broken groan of your name and a full-body shudder, his face a portrait of surrender as he spilled into you, pulsing and shaking beneath you.

When he finally came to a stop, his chest heaving, his hands still on your hips, holding you steady, you leaned in and kissed him softly, a contrast to the raw energy between you moments before.

“You were perfect,” you whispered against his lips.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he breathed in deeply, the intensity still lingering.

“God… you’re gonna kill me, you know that?”

You smiled, resting your head on his chest as he held you.

“You’re welcome.”

And you felt him become completely, unconditionally yours.

Your Bucky.