Enjoy, my dear
Our lips collided in the smash of what I could call only as a hurricane, and blizzard, and tsunami all at once. His hot skin radiated hungry impatience through many layers of robes while he pressed his already swollen erection into my crotch. Fuck, why did he always wear so many layers?
I groaned in irritation as my hands tugged and pulled, but all I managed was to free his neck and shoulders at most.
“Damn it, Strange, I’ll buy you some fucking T-shirts,” I complained aloud, loosing so much of the precious time with scolding him instead of taking a proper breath. And I payed for it dearly just in the next second when his tongue captured mine, knocking the remaining air out of my lungs.
I had no idea where we were heading, tripping over our own feet, until he shoved me against a kitchen counter, his hands quickly moving under my thighs and lifting me up like I weighted nothing.
“Someone eager to have his cock in my ass?” I made the same mistake, but this time the reason for the lack of air was again very creative.
He just pressed his lips over my neck, where he knew I was most sensitive, and my legs automatically clenched around his hips as I dragged a ragged breath in my throat.
“Shut up, Stark or I’m going to gag you.” Uhm. And wasn’t that an attractive idea? I thought about reciting some random physic laws to ensure just that, but then I stopped myself, ready to play his game.
I still didn’t say a single word when he started to reach for my T-shirt. He knew better than to pull it off. He wasn’t allowed to touch the reactor and he was certainly aware of it when his hands stopped at the hem and slid under.
The man went just as far as to count all of my stomach muscles and then his fingers aimed back down to my abdomen and to my sweatpants.
“I will fuck you to the oblivion tonight,” he stated as a matter of fact with that deep voice of his, causing goosebumps all over my body.
I hummed in agreement. He didn’t want me to talk after all and I didn’t want to give him a reason for some sweet miserable torment he was capable of. Not tonight.
He reached for my pants next, pulling them off in one swift motion, exposing my erection twitching under the prominent stare of his hazy blackened eyes. He looked down between my legs and then up at my face. The smile he gave me would be evil enough for everyone else to start worrying at that moment.
I presented him a smirk on my own, spreading my legs a bit to tease him. Just as I expected he was instantly back in my space, capturing my lips and my hands over my head. He kissed me hard and messy and I moaned his name back in his throat.
That much was allowed for now.
“So hard for me, Stark, you’re such a slut.”
My eyes found his, my mouth already open to be sure my heart was getting enough of the oxygen.
“Your slut,” I added and corrected him at once, risking the possible punishment which never came.
He just grinned before he nodded and whispered his agreement into my skin, sucking and biting while he was on it, making me take my lower lip between my teeth so I wouldn’t cry out loud. He needed to free one of his hands to get rid of his pants. At the end he left them hanging halfway over his ass, his pulsing cock exposed and ready to slide into me.
But first came his fingers, slick with magical lube or some shit he’d probably pulled out from another dimension when I’d been too busy licking the inside of his mouth.
I wanted to protest, because I knew this would be painful for his scarred hands, but this time there was a resolution in his face that couldn’t be reckoned with. His grip on my wrists only tightened and then the first finger went inside, and my back arched against the cupboard in unity.
I was just as clumsy to manage hitting my head as well and suddenly his free hand was in my hair, gently – oh so gently – fixing my head into the proper position so it wouldn’t happen anymore. Something in his eyes were just hard to look at, because suddenly there was so much of a pure affection there that I could hardly make my brain process it.
I laughed shortly, letting him know that I was okay, and he joined in quickly, pressing our mouths together to silence us both.
The heat returned almost immediately. I felt his second finger sliding in accompanying with my encouraging moans and then the third one stretching me wide and well while he never moved his eyes away from my face.
“Stephen,” I called out hoping it was alright to at least use his name. He looked delighted so perhaps yes.
He pulled his fingers out satisfied with his work and grabbed his cock to maneuver it inside. And in that very moment when he bowed his head to look down, my breath got stuck in my lungs and cold sweat broke on my forehead.
A figure was standing behind Stephen’s back. In the dark. Further in the room.
A man.
His hands frozen into some midmovement as well as his legs. His whole posture just screamed that he was ready to move, but still stood where he was. A blue, red and white uniform enwrapping his large form.
Steve fucking Rogers.
Something like embarrassment mixed with anger filled my veins. I wanted to say something. I swear to god I wanted to, but in the same second as I opened my mouth, Stephen pressed himself inside and I gasped for entirely different reason than an unexpected presence of one certain supersoldier.
My eyes closed on the instinct as I stretched into Stephen’s body, meeting him eagerly, feeling filled and tight, his cock pressed against the walls of my ass leaving me a little time to adjust to his size.
I snapped my eyes open again, expecting to see a disappearing figure around the corner. But no.
He was still standing there in the exact same position, with the same exact blank face, his eyes piercing and watching me-us intensively like he had any right to be there. Like he hadn’t refused to have this for himself and hurt me in the process just because he could. What the fuck?
For a moment I started to panic. Because this was my fault. I’d expected everyone to be out on the mission. There were no reports of Rogers returning sooner than tomorrow evening. With that information I hadn’t bothered to move this on my private floor.
When Strange had made a portal, my mind had clouded and the next thing I’d known was that his hands had been everywhere and the bed too far for my liking. Today he was in a nice kinky mood, possibly ready to manhandling me a bit, using his strength for something different than to fight of dimensional threats. Like right now.
I looked at him, glad that he didn’t catch where my attention had been and I saw his hand approaching my throat. Hell yes.
I moaned again when I felt his fingers wrap around - lightly squeezing, just giving me a taste of what might follow. He moved again and this time he went a bit deeper with me calling out his name desperately. He started to move, thrusting forward in a quick, harsh movement, and that just sent him balls deep into my hole.
“Fuck,” I moaned, next to his face after he leaned in, kissing the crook of my neck while bringing his hips forward again. I took a hesitant look over his shoulder and I swore under my breath.
Why the hell was he standing there? Why hadn’t he moved? Whatever he wanted – if he wanted something – obviously, I was busy.
I gave Rogers the best pissed of look I could manage in these circumstances. He still didn’t move an inch. However, Stephen moved… Oh, fuck, he moved. And my eyes involuntary closed again, because his cock was perfect, just perfect.
A strangled moan escaped my mouth and then another when the sorcerer supreme fastened the rhythm, soon pounding into me like he wanted to tear me apart. Not just my body, but my mind, everything that tried to resist him.
“Beg, Stark. I want to hear you.”
My first reaction was to tell him to fuck off. Starks didn’t beg. I didn’t beg. But god, I wanted to! I wanted to beg him until my throat would go raw.
“Please, Stephen… touch… me.” I managed to spill and seeing his triumphal smile I knew I did good.
“Where do you want me to touch you?”
“Uh.” I was sure there was something wrong with my brain at this point as it seemed to be unable to supply me with coherent sentences.
“My… cock… Please…”
I couldn’t stand it anymore. He was so close that I was able to rub against his stomach, so I tried, but he immediately squeezed at my neck to stop me.
“Quit it or I’ll make you regret it,” he threatened, slowing down a bit to make his words even more scary.
“Sorry…” I apologized immediately knowing better than to rebel. After he eyed me warily his hand finally moved from my wrists and reached for my pulsing erection instead. Suddenly I didn’t know what to do with my limbs so I clenched my fingers over his hand on my neck and with the other one I grabbed his shoulder to steady myself.
“You’re such a filthy little bitch, Tony.”
Uhm. True.
He made few painfully hard thrusts to draw an answer from me.
“Ye… yes, fuck, Stephen.”
He started to hit my prostate soon after. My cock disappearing in his hand and appearing with a pre-com on the top. It wouldn’t take too long for me, that I was sure about. My heart was beating like it wanted to go into cardiac arrest, there was a ringing in my ears and drops of sweat forming on my forehead.
For whatever stupid reason I looked again at the place where Rogers had stood, this time really expecting him to be gone. Nope.
Our eyes met. His blue ones were almost glowing in the dark and damn it, I wanted to scream for him to get the hell out. I bit my tongue hard because that I couldn’t do. For the same reason as for which I didn’t stop this at the beginning. If I said something and Stephen found out, he would be pissed. Royally pissed. Maybe throwing Rogers into some portal in the North Pole. And then he would probably leave. Maybe wouldn’t come back. I didn’t want him to leave me like this… or leave me in general.
“Stephen…” I whimpered again as we were both panting and it was much harder to pay attention to the surroundings now.
“Say you want me to come inside your hole, Stark. Say it.”
He was squeezing at my neck so much that it probably shouldn’t have allowed me to speak at all, but I still made an attempt.
“Do it… inside… me…”
Something resembling a growl escaped Stephen’s mouth. I could feel his fingers tighten a tiny bit more. I just hoped for Rogers’ sake he won’t choke me right now or it will get nasty.
Somewhere in the part of the vision which was still clear I saw the dark figure making a step forward like he wanted to stop what was happening in front of him. I had no idea how I managed to give him a very urgent look loosely translated as “don’t you fucking dare and get the fuck away finally.” At least the first part he understood.
With few more thrusts of Stephen’s hips and his hand on my cock, my vision went completely black. I cried out while all of those sensations combined gave me an orgasm which swept my insides and shut down my whole body – from my brain to the tips of my toes. There was nothing. Nothing except his cock filling me with his seed and his lips on my jaw, breathing in my skin and then the moans escaping out of my mouth.
I was so preoccupied with remembering how to breathe and how to think again, that I completely missed his own orgasm and for that I was sorry. It had to be beautiful.
In the next few moments his hand was gone from my neck, his cock out of my ass, but he stayed close, providing the warmth when I shivered, and steady hand on my shoulder as I coughed, my hand massaging on the raw skin where he’d held me.
His eyes suddenly turned sorrowful, just like they always did when he thought he really managed to hurt me this time and I wondered if there was an imprint of his hand where his lips now gently kissed over my neck.
“I’m sorry, Tony.”
His voice was soft and edgy and something in my stomach turned and protested to hear him so regretful.
“It’s… okay. I’m o-okay… Don’t… be… silly.”
God, my voice sounded like someone wiped my vocal cords against a sandpaper.
He was still unconvinced, but at least willing to listen. I caressed his face, tried to be subtle about an affection hidden behind the gesture.
“You… will you stay? For the night…”
He hesitated, so I quickly continued, my legs still clenched around him leaving him no route to escape.
“I need you to stay. I haven’t slept… in three days.” Emotional blackmailing. Yes. That is what you’re good at, Stark.
I could see his strong façade to crack up a bit.
“I could use some sleep as well,” he said after a while and a relief washed over my body.
“You look like shit, that is true,” he continued then. I threw him an eyeroll.
“Always so fucking charming, Strange. Now, do your nice sparkling thing and take me to the shower. The room at the end of corridor. My bedroom is in reconstruction.”
He just raised one of his eyebrows but didn’t comment on it. His hands lifted my ass from the counter and pulled me on my wobbly feet. He remained at my side, steading me silently while the portal was conjured in front of us.
I thought about glancing back into the darkness of the room, but fuck, I didn’t care if he was still there. I didn’t care about him at all. Not anymore.
Hope he enjoyed the show.