Chapter Text
Darcy holds herself stiffly away from him, but it doesn’t help. Every breath he takes, every shift of muscle invades her senses. All she wants to do is tempt, touch, taste. It’s what she’s wanted to do all night while they played lovers for their captive audience, flirting and caressing until her nerve endings were alive with need. It’s a role, she reminds herself for the hundredth time, and he doesn’t mean it; but having him so close, so warm beside her is almost more than she can handle. Steve shifts, and the back of the limo feels impossibly small and cramped with him beside her. She’s sure Bucky, from his vantage point as the driver, is laughing at her.
Steve shifts again and his hand brushes hers, and it’s like sparks shoot through her body and all she wants to do is strip off this wispy nothing of an evening gown and his Armani suit and press herself against his hard, naked body. A strangled noise comes from someone—from him or from her, she doesn’t know—and suddenly his hands are on her, pulling her half on top of him as his mouth comes down so hard on hers that their teeth clank. It’s not a gentle, reverent kiss like she’d expect from Steve; it’s hungry and desperate, and she can taste whiskey on his breath. As she opens her mouth to his and his tongue slips between her lips, seeking and finding hers, it’s everything she needs. His hand settles at the small of her back, holding her against him as they devour each other. His other hand, warm and heavy through the thin silk, slides from her hip to her thigh, hooking around her thigh to pull her legs open as wide as the dress will allow. He bunches the fabric between his fingers, then he slips his hand under the hem, blazing a red-hot trail of sensation back up to her hip.
His fingers explore underneath the dress, finding nothing but soft skin, and he moans, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against hers. “Jesus, Darcy. Underwear?”
“Not wearing any. Ruins the lines of the dress.” She whimpers as his finger finds her core, already wet and ready for him, and she clenches her hands in his no longer perfect hair and crushes his mouth against hers once more. His hand moves from her back, and she feels her dress ride up, so that the material gathers around her waist. She shivers as she’s exposed to the cold air as his fingers stroke and play over her. Darcy changes position, never taking her mouth off Steve’s as she straddles his lap, settling so that the bulge in his pants rests just where she wants it; he slips his fingers from between them and cups the nape of her neck, trying to bring her mouth closer. They both groan as she wriggles against him, the smooth fabric of his slacks creating delightful friction where he rests against her center.
He tears his mouth from hers as she grinds against him, and he moves his hips in rhythm with hers. “Wanted you forever. All night, I dreamed about bending you over the table and taking you in front of everybody.”
She kisses his neck, her fingers still speared through his hair. “I would have let you,” she says against his skin. He slips the straps from her shoulders, and she whispers, “No bra, either,” as he releases her breasts and cradles them in his hands. He sucks hungrily at one nipple before dragging his tongue across the valley of her breasts to lavish attention on her other. His fingers roll and tug, and she writhes against him as eager cries fall from her mouth.
“Are you ready?” he whispers, and Darcy nods, so ready to feel him inside of her. He unbuttons his pants and slides them down enough to release his cock before thrusting into a Darcy, filling her in a quick, hard motion that has her screaming against his lips. She only has a moment to adjust to the fullness of him inside of her when his hips buck up, pushing him further into her. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t wait.”
“You don’t have to,” she whimpers, and he driving in and out of her, grace and finesse gone as he slams into her with almost brutish force; it’s wild and rough and sloppy; hands and mouths are everywhere; her breasts bounce wildly as she rides him.
She’s whispering “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” in time with his thrusts and that only seems to make him go harder, rougher; his hands dig into her ass so hard she’s sure she’ll have Steve’s fingerprints bruised on her for months, and she loves every second of it. Steve captures a nipple in his mouth, sucking, nibbling, and it’s his teeth scraping against her nipple that helps set her off, and she’s clenching around him, her screams echoing in the limo.
The limo swerves, and Steve catches her against him so she won’t fall off his lap, pressing him further into her, making her throw back her head and moan again and drawing out her orgasm. “Holy shit,” she hears when she finally stops shaking. She turns her head to see Bucky’s eyes in the rearview mirror, watching her and Steve. She can’t quite believe she’d forgotten about him, although with Steve between her legs, it’s a wonder she remembers her own name. But Bucky’s been there the whole time, watching Steve fuck her. She feels like she should be a little embarrassed, but it only makes her hotter, and she licks her lips before turning back to Steve.
“I think Bucky liked what he saw,” Steve whispers rolling his hips up into hers and making her mewl. He lifts her so she’s almost all the way off of him, then he pushes into her again. The rhythm he establishes is maddeningly unhurried; she tries to make him move faster, but he chuckles against her throat, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. She likes it just as much as she likes hard, rough Steve. “Do you want to stop?”
Darcy shakes her head and nips at the lobe of his ear. “No. Let’s give him a show.” Steve takes her mouth in a hungry kiss, then lifts her off his cock before turning her around so that her back is to his chest. Darcy protests the loss of him hard between her legs; she feels exposed and vulnerable, and it occurs to her that while she’s all but naked, Steve is almost fully clothed. But when she feels Steve’s hands, big and rough, trail from her hips up to her breasts and Steve’s tongue, hot and wet against her neck, she forgets about vulnerability and loses herself in the sensation of his hands and Bucky’s eyes on her.
“Do you like him watching?” Steve asks as one hand settles between her thighs, teasing at the soft skin he finds there before moving up to the apex of her legs and spreading her legs wider so that she’s open to Bucky’s gaze. He dips one finger into her, then a second; she clenches around his fingers and he groans. From the front, she hears another groan and it makes her even wetter. Steve hums in her ear. “Mmm, I think it does. I think you want him to watch me take you again.”
He slides his fingers slowly out of her, then back in, and Darcy arches back, her head on Steve’s shoulder, turning her head to find his lips as he establishes a steady rhythm. She kisses him, eyes open as she revels in the sensation of his fingers inside her and Bucky’s eyes drinking in the sight. She’s already come once today, but if he keeps this up she’ll do it again and again.“I want him to watch,” she says loudly. “Fuck me.”
Steve slowly enters her, and this is the Steve she’d been expecting earlier. The slow, teasing, Steve, who slides in and out of her at an agonizing rate that has Darcy almost crying with frustration. His breath is harsh and hot against her neck as he whispers the things he’ll do to her, with her, let her do to him, when they have time and space to spread out. The images he plants in her head are so hot, and she can’t help but think of his face buried between her thighs, of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth, of Bucky watching as Steve fucks her against the wall. She can hear Bucky’s harsh groans from the driver’s seat. It’s all too much: Steve’s hands digging into her hips, the warm silk of her dress bunched around her waist, the smooth slide of his slacks on her, the friction of his shirt against her back, the slow thrust of Steve’s cock into her, and his lips brushing against the back of her neck. The sensations all meld within her, driving her to her second orgasm of the night; as she clenches and convulses around him, it brings Steve off, too, and he drives into her hard one last time, making her eyes roll in the back of her head as he shouts, filling her.
When they can breath normally again, Steve helps her adjust her dress as best he can, and he tries to pick at the ruins of her hair. It doesn’t work, and she still probably looks like she’s been freshly fucked in the back seat of a limo, but at least she’s covered. Steve cradles her on his lap, and they sit like that until the limo arrives at the safe house, and Darcy takes Steve’s hand and drags him to the bedroom.