The thing about Steve is that he knows he's not a nice guy.
So when Diana looks at him with those big brown eyes, he only hesitates a moment before closing the door behind him. Steve's not sure which of them steps forward, but suddenly they're kissing and huh. He may be the first man she's ever seen, but he's definitely not the first person she's ever kissed. He thinks of Diana, eager and young and fumbling through her first kisses with one of those beautiful women from Themyscira. It makes his blood run hot and fast and decidedly southwards.
Steve pulls back, one hand still cupping her cheek. He takes in the dark, tousled mass of hair haloing her face in the dim light, her half-lidded eyes still fixed on his mouth, the way her panting breaths match his.
"I thought you said men were unnecessary for pleasure?"
"Many things are unnecessary for pleasure." Diana's sweet smile slips sideways into a smirk and Steve's heart falters before beating triple-time. "That does not mean they cannot provide it."
"Alright." Steve releases her, stepping back and flinging his arms wide with a little half bow. "I humbly offer myself to you as unnecessary but pleasurable."
"Excellent." Diana nods and swiftly begins disrobing, and really, who is Steve to argue with that.
Steve checks that he's turned the flimsy lock on the door before he starts shrugging out of his own clothes. His eyes take in the miles of tan skin revealed as Diana makes quick work of her coat and armor. Normally Steve would be offering his assistance, but he's honestly not sure how he'd go about removing most of the things Diana's wearing, so he concentrates on his own clothes and enjoys the view. By the time Steve's down to his drawers, Diana has carefully arranged her armor and weaponry atop the thick, soft coat he'd picked out with only minor prodding from Etta.
"You do not need to cover yourself." Diana nods to where Steve's hands have stilled at the waistband of his drawers. "I have already seen you bare."
"Just got a little distracted," Steve says, shoving the offending fabric down his legs and kicking them behind him. "You're the only one here who had a preview."
"You said that you have slept with women before." Diana's brow furrows and Steve barely resists the urge to reach out and smooth the confusion away. Then Steve realizes he's got permission to touch, so he steps forward and runs a gentle hand over her forehead, brushes a stray curl out of her eyes. "I had assumed you were familiar with the female form."
"Sure." Steve slides a hand down the smooth, muscled length of Diana's arm and leads her toward the bed with their fingers intertwined. "But every woman is uniquely beautiful and distracting."
"This is true," Diana agrees with a distant look in her eye and a dreamy smile that makes Steve a bit lightheaded. He more or less collapses on the edge of the bed, knees spread wide, and she steps between his legs. "I have read of what takes place between men and women for procreation, but little of recreation. Where would you like to begin?"
Steve's mind is awash with myriad possibilities and his cock hardens further, drawing Diana's gaze down. "We don't have to start there. I imagine many things two women can find pleasure in would translate well."
"Hands and mouths, of course." Diana lifts their clasped hands to study his fingers with an assessing eye. "Would it be alright if I touched you?"
"Yeah, yes, sure," Steve answers. "Anywhere and anyhow you like. I'll tell you if you do anything uncomfortable. Where do you want me?"
"On your back on the bed, I think."
Steve slides further onto the bed, turning so he's lying on his back with his head propped on the pillows. "At your leisure," he says, tucking an arm behind his head and ruthlessly suppressing the urge to flex. Diana already saw Steve naked and decided she wanted to sleep with him. There's no need to preen like a peacock, even if she is staring at him like he's good enough to eat.
Diana leaps nimbly onto the bed, landing on the shuddering mattress with her knees a precise inch to each side of his hips. It occurs to him all the things they might be able to do with her superhuman strength and agility and sweet mother of god, just look at her. Steve does his best not to swallow his own tongue.
Steve wasn't blowing hot air telling Diana that every woman is uniquely beautiful. He's known broads of all shapes, sizes, and colors and worshiped every single one of them. And women he hasn't or won't sleep with for one reason or another are just as charming in their own ways. Etta, for instance, runs his life and is utterly indispensable. She is, consequently, off limits, tempting as she is with her attention to detail, her enthusiastic laughter, and, of course, her generous curves. And Steve admires women as a whole, not just for their looks. Even if his own sweet mother hadn't slapped that notion out of his head early in life, the strength, bravery, and courage he's seen from women throughout the war would've managed it.
His generally adoring feelings towards the entire sex aside, Steve would be hard pressed to think of anything -- animal, vegetable, or mineral -- that could possibly compare to Diana kneeling over him. He keeps his hands to himself, but revels in the play of the dim light over the sleek muscled curves of her, her cheeks flushed with arousal, her gaze heavy with appreciation and curiosity. Just when he's thinking of saying something to move things along, Diana leans forward to press a kiss to his gaping mouth, the wild tumble of her curls forming a curtain around them.
Diana's kisses are simultaneously curious and aggressive. Gentle, questing strokes of tongues mixed with sharp nips at his lips and a firm, strong hand gripping the short hair at the back of his head. She tastes faintly of the beer the villagers were quaffing like water and, underneath, something sweet and far more intoxicating that he thinks might just be her. Steve grins when Diana slides her free hand up to cup his cheek and flinches away at the unexpected prickle of stubble there. He would've made an effort to scrounge up soap and a razor if he'd had any idea this was where his evening was headed.
"Didn't have a chance to shave for you," Steve says, smiling as she shifts her weight on her elbows, using both hands to trace his features. "Sorry."
"It is not unpleasant," Diana says, tone considering. The backs of her fingers rasp quietly against the stubble along his right cheek. "I am simply unaccustomed."
"Be happy to further acquaint you with the sensation," Steve offers.
Diana laughs, low and warm, sending a shiver of sharp want down Steve's spine. "I am sure you would be." She dips her head to kiss his cheek, a gesture that would be achingly chaste if it wasn't accompanied by the press of her small, firm breasts against his chest. "I would take my time with you, without distractions."
"That sounds nice," Steve replies, back arching as her teeth close quick and firm at the corner of his jaw. "I'm all for you taking your time."
"Wonderful." And then Steve's biting back a whine, because Diana is leaning back and away, gracefully swinging off the bed and bending down to sort through her piled belongings. "Have you any objection to keeping your hands to yourself, for a time?"
"No objections." Steve shakes his head as Diana stands and turns towards the bed. And that's when he sees the lasso coiled unassumingly in her hands. "Oh."
"I would not, of course, bind you against your will," Diana swears. She kneels on the bed next to his hip, the golden rope illuminating her long, capable fingers with its otherworldly glow. "But it would reassure me to know you speak true when I ask after your wants. I know the temptation of assuring a lover that every move they make is pleasurable." She tilts her head to one said, eyes sweeping the full length of Steve's body in a look of such frank admiration that he feels his cheeks grow hot. "And I do not know if I could withstand the temptation to focus on my own pleasure if your clever hands were left unbound."
Steve's mouth feels dry and it takes a moment for him to find his voice. "I fully understand the temptation, Diana."
Diana nods and simply waits, sitting on her heels with the lasso a teasing coil of promise in her grip.
"Alright." Steve raises both hands above his head, settling more firmly into the mound of mismatched pillows. "You shouldn't have much trouble securing that to the bedstead."
Diana grins and wraps the lasso twice, three times around her own wrist until the glow brightens. Her eyes glimmer wide and earnest in the golden light. "I will strive to make every moment one of incomparable pleasure, Steve."
He believes her.
"I'll take your word for it," Steve says as Diana leans forward and begins the careful process of securing Steve's wrists.
Her motions are precise and practiced, and a thrill of want mixes with longing to know which lucky Amazon taught Diana the ways of pleasure, if only to thank her for her thorough tutelage. When Diana has Steve arranged to her satisfaction, his hands are secured together and rest clasped above his head on the pillows. There's enough slack in the rope for comfort, but not so much he could easily slip free without meaning to.
"How does that feel?" Diana asks, eyes fixed on Steve's.
"It's a lot more arousing than I expected it to be," Steve says, the words dropping from his mouth without passing through whatever filter his brain usually employs to keep him out of trouble. "But I think I'll like anything you'd want to do to me. You just want me to feel good. It's what I want for you, too. Pleasure."
"Wonderful." Diana's smile is wide and makes Steve's breath catch in his chest. "Are you having any second thoughts, either about being bound or about the enforced truth telling?"
"No." Steve returns her smile with one of his own, sure his expression is downright foolish and not caring in the least. "I'd love to put my hands on you, but I want you to have what you want more, and you said you wanted to touch me."
"I do want to touch you," Diana agrees, reaching out with one slender hand. Her touch is a feather-light brush of bow-and-sword-calloused fingertips against the galloping pulse of his neck. "How would you like me to touch you?"
"Any way you want," Steve replies, and there's really something to this enforced honesty thing, because that earns Steve another breathtaking smile and Diana swinging one leg across his hips. "Anywhere. Everywhere."
"I can do that." And then Diana is settling her full weight atop him and Steve throws his head back on a low grown. They're pressed together from feet to chest and nothing has ever felt this perfect. The stiff peaks of Diana's breasts are pressed firmly against his upper chest and the delicious friction of his cock against the damp, curling hair above her cunt is practically divine. "Does it pain you?"
"Not in a bad way." Steve shakes his head, prying his eyes open with difficulty as Diana rocks her hips down against his. There's just enough sweat and precome mixing between them for the glide of his cock to be the sweet kind of torture rather than true discomfort. "When, when a man is, uh, fully erect it can be a sort of ache whether you touch him or not. It's not necessarily a good or bad feeling."
Diana grinds more firmly against him. "There can be a similar sort of ache for women. A dull wanting that grows sharper as we approach our peak. What would you like?"
"I'd like it if you took me firmly in hand." Steve's honestly not sure how he means that.
"Of course." Diana slides down the length of his body without bothering to lift her weight, and it's a heady, impossible pleasure. She pauses, face and hands inches from his cock. "Might I use my mouth as well?"
"Oh, yes please. Just careful with your teeth." Steve nods and then he's keening as Diana takes him firmly in hand. "Yeah, that's good, perfect amount of pressure."
Steve has definitely never talked this much during sex, but he thinks he kind of likes it. Likes the way it keeps both partners firmly on the same page, attuned to one another's wants in a way he'd never thought possible. And then coherent thought starts slipping from his grasp, because Diana has one hand wrapped snug around the base of his cock and the damp heat of her breath is teasing the head.
"You look so beautiful like this, Steve," Diana says, voice exquisitely earnest, before dipping her head to take him into her mouth.
Steve lets out an embarrassing squeak of a groan as Diana's tongue circles before she draws back minutely. She smacks her lips together and he watches, rapt, as Diana considers the taste of him, one hand still idly squeezing and stroking the lower half of his cock.
"It is more bitter than a woman," Diana decides, tongue tracing the sensitive vein running along the underside of him. "But, as you say, not in a bad way." With that, she wraps her soft lips around him and swallows him down to the root.
Steve almost comes right then and there. As it is, he manages to hold back thanks to the thumb and forefinger she has wrapped tightly around his base, her lips brushing her fingers before rising back to the head in one smooth motion. "Jesus fucking Christ," Steve says, voice strangled, arms straining against the ropes.
"What?" Diana looks up at him, puzzled.
"He's the son of God in the Christian faith," Steve pants. "I was using it as an epithet."
Diana nods at this explanation. "I am unfamiliar with this deity or his son." And then she goes back to swallowing him down with gusto and Steve realizes she must just not have a gag reflex. If that's an Amazonian thing, he can't help but think that's a crying shame.
After a few minutes of Diana's exquisite torture -- hands and lips and tongue moving in perfect concert and it's just unfair that she's a natural at this as she is in everything else -- Steve says, "I'm gonna come if you keep doing that."
Diana lifts her head, licking a stray drop of precome from her bottom lip and that's just not fair. "That is the point, yes?"
Steve nods, feeling more than a little frantic. "But unlike women, men can only come once or maybe twice in a, a coupling. So if you'd like to, uh, get the full male experience, it's probably best to switch focus to your pleasure."
"Only once or twice?" Diana's eyebrows are practically at her hairline and her expression is appalled. "This seems a great unfairness, Steve." But she releases him and rises to her knees all the same. His cock remains fully erect, aching and slick with his precome and Diana's saliva.
"Well, being male has its own advantages," Steve says. "Most of them societal and unfair to women, but there you are."
Diana laughs and reaches above his head to unfasten the knots securing his wrists. "Is it fair to assume you will continue to tell me your wants without the aid of the Lasso?"
"It is," Steve agrees just before his hands slip free. "Can I assume the same of you?"
"I will never lie to you," Diana swears.
Steve can't bear the open look on her face or the overfull feeling of his pounding heart. He sinks both hands into her hair and pulls her down for a kiss, more sharp-edged desperation than tenderness. Diana gives as good as she gets, and doesn't balk when he moves to roll them over, though he knows she could maneuver them however she'd like with her superior strength.
Once he's licked the last traces of his own taste from Diana's mouth, he starts pressing a line of kisses along the strong curve of her jaw and down the elegant line of her neck. She sighs, a warm, content exhalation that slips inside his rib-cage and makes a home there. Steve couldn't rip her free from his soul now if he tried, and he can't imagine wanting to, though he knows how this will end. With him beneath the dirt of some forgotten field and her standing alone against the world. For now, in this stolen hour, Diana writhing and eager beneath his hands, Steve lets himself pretend.
Steve pins her wrists to either side of her head as he bites his way along each of her collarbones in turn, releasing her hands when he drops down to the sweet swell of her breasts. She buries her long fingers in his hair as he draws one nipple into his mouth. He teases the already-stiff peak with tongue and teeth while his thumb and forefinger pinch her other nipple. Diana's hands spasm against the back of his skull when he sucks in time with a particularly vicious tweak of his fingers at her other breast. She hisses through her teeth, but only shifts his head to the other side, head thrown back against the pillows in clear pleasure.
Steve sets to work on her other breast, coaxing louder and ever higher pitched noises from Diana's lips as he works.
"Steve, I want your fingers inside of me," Diana says, lifting his head by the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Would you like my mouth on you, too?" Steve asks, and it's almost like the rope's still drawing his innermost thoughts to the surface. Maybe Diana just brings that out in him. He can think of worse things.
"Yes." Diana nods, gently shoving him down with a press of her hands to the top of his head.
Steve laughs, but moves willingly, dropping kisses along the length of her muscled torso as he goes. "Tell me if I do anything you don't like. Or if there's anything you like in particular."
"I will." Diana's hands are plucking at her own chest now and Steve groans against the smooth skin of her hip.
"You are too lovely for words." Steve shoulders her thighs apart, trying not to feel to smug when he sees how slick she is already.
"Your words seem to be working quite well," Diana assures him. She passes Steve one of the pillows and raises her hips so he can slip it beneath her for a better angle. "And you are also lovely."
Steve doesn't think anyone has ever called him lovely, before, but it sounds true dripping from Diana's kiss-swollen mouth.
"Thank you," Steve says, though what exactly he's thanking her for he doubts even he knows. And any response Diana might have had is swallowed by her high keen as Steve dips his head and licks a hot stripe from her perineum to her clit. Diana's hands scrabble at the bedclothes and Steve grins against the hot, wet warmth of her when he hears her rend the fabric. "Try not to do that to me," he murmurs against her as he uses one hand to open her up to his gaze.
"I would never hurt you."
And oh, if only Steve could swear the same.
Steve slips one finger into her slick, grasping warmth, an easy glide right up to the knuckle that has Diana's back bowing and the most gorgeous wail driven from the depths of her chest. He crooks his finger until he hears the hitch in her breath and then presses at the same time as he wraps his lips around her clit. When he sucks Diana gasps and he takes that moment to slip another finger inside. Her breath stutter-stops and Steve waits until she nods, frantic and wide-eyed, before he sets up a hard, fast rhythm. Steve makes sure that every stroke in pauses to press against that spot that lights her up from the inside, all the while sucking and licking and worrying at her clit. It's the work of only a few minutes before Diana lets loose a breathless little shriek and her inner walls flutter wildly, clutching at his fingers. Steve works her through it, watches her face as her eyes roll up and her back arches in an exquisite picture of delicious agony.
"I want," Diana gasps, when she can finally form words again and Steve is slowly circling a thumb over her aching clit. "I want you inside of me."
"I am," Steve says, deliberately misunderstanding her with the smooth press of another finger into the wet, tight clutch of her body.
"Steve, I want you to put your penis inside of me," Diana says, scowling down at him even as she rolls her hips with the steady rhythm of his thrusting fingers.
Steve smiles, wide, and scissors his fingers as he slowly slips them free. He licks each of them clean in turn while Diana watches with hungry eyes.
"I don't have a French envelope with me," Steve tells her, before realizing that won't mean anything to a woman who's never slept with a man, before. "I don't have anything to prevent conception. I'll pull out before I spend, but there would still be a chance -- "
"Steve." Diana pulls him up the length of her with one strong hand wrapped around his shoulder. He doesn't bother examining why the easy way Diana can move him around sets his nerve endings alight. "A babe will quicken or not as the gods wish. I could think of no man I would rather have father my child."
She speaks so matter-of-factly, like she hasn't just told Steve she'd be perfectly content if he left her in the family way.
"Diana, I'm the first man you ever met. Your theoretical options are a fairly small pool of prospects."
"Be that as it may, it is true. I was the first child born to my people for centuries." And right, Steve has to remember she's not some adventurous farmer's daughter or a bored widow looking for a bit of fun. She is Diana of Themyscira, daughter of Zeus, and he might actually believe that. "A babe would be a blessing, and even if no child should come of our joining I would have you spend within me."
"It's the middle of a war," Steve says, gently as he can. "I can't make you any promises, Diana."
"I ask for no oaths. I am not one of your women who you must wed to bed." Diana smiles. "If you do not wish it, we need not. I would gladly have you spend in my mouth."
Steve presses his eyes tightly shut, which was a mistake, because then his mind helpfully supplies images of Diana swallowing him down to the root, her eyes hazy with pleasure.
"No, I want to, Diana." Steve swallows around the lump in his throat and forces his eyes to meet hers. "But I would worry about leaving you alone."
"I am Hippolyta's daughter," Diana assures him, one hand rising to cup his cheek. He turns his hand and presses a kiss to her palm and tells himself it isn't as worshipful a gesture as it feels. "I am never alone."
"You know that's not what I mean, Diana. A good man wouldn't risk it."
"Aw, but there you are wrong." Diana leans into the hand he smooths over her hair, a sweetly feline gesture. "For I am asking, and I know you are a good man."
Steve's heart lurches in his chest and he has to kiss her. As their mouths meet in a hot clash of tongues and teeth, Steve reaches a hand down and urges Diana to wrap her legs around his hips. He pulls back with a hiss as his cock brushes up against the wet, tempting heat of her, presses his forehead to hers and gasps.
"You can still change your mind, Diana."
Diana's answer is to reach between them, take Steve in hand, and guide him to her entrance.
"Alright," he says as the head of his cock slips into her. "Alright, sweetheart."
Steve enters her in one long, smooth thrust, and Diana's head drops back into the pillows with a contented sigh. He pauses once he's buried fully within her, searching her face and body for any hint of discomfort. One of her hands pulls his face toward hers with a firm grip on the back of his neck.
Steve grins, sharp and bright. "Yes, ma'am." And then he pulls back until just the head of his cock is teasing her. He dips it in and out, moving only a few inches each time, until he feels Diana's impatient hands grasp him by the hips and yank him forward. A lush sigh spills from her mouth and that's all the assurance Steve needs that Diana truly wants him to get moving.
Steve sets up a pace that's just shy of punishing, the sound of their slick movements and the snap of his hips against the plush curve of her bottom obscenely loud in the still, small room.
"It's not, not quite the right angle," Diana pants, hips shifting restlessly against him.
"You're right." Steve pulls out and Diana's noise of protest is cut off as he gently motions for her to roll over. She complies and makes an interested noise as he yanks her up by her hips. She's leaning on her forearms, bottom at the perfect height for him to slide right into her if he kneels between her legs. The moan that spirals out of her throat as Steve thrusts in, nailing that spot on her front wall just right, sends a bolt of heat that settles low in Steve's belly. "That's much better."
Diana nods in agreement, arching her back. Steve quickens his pace and wraps an arm around her so he can circle blunt fingertips over her swollen clit as he thrusts. She's tight and hot and perfect around him, and he knows it won't be long for either of them when he starts to see the muscles along her spine tremble. Steve is struck with the abrupt, unshakable need to watch her face as she comes. This might be the only time they have together and Steve wants the look of pleasure on Diana's face planted firmly in his memory for however long he manages to stay alive.
"I need to see you," Steve says, voice a harsh rasp as he pulls out and turns Diana onto her back with unsteady hands. "Need to see you shake apart on my cock."
"Yes, yes." Diana pants, head thrown back as Steve lifts her legs to his shoulders and folds her practically in half as he thrusts back inside her welcoming warmth. "I want to. I want to with you, Steve."
Steve's hips pound mercilessly against Diana and he closes the small gap between them to press his lips to hers. It's less kissing than breathing one another's air, but he suddenly can't bear the thought of being any further away from her.
"So close," Diana whispers, arms wrapping around Steve's torso. "Please, please, plea -- "
And then she's shuddering against him and clamping down on him and Steve spills into her with a shout. They tremble there, foreheads pressed together as Steve releases Diana's shaky legs to slip from his shoulders back to the mattress. It takes several minutes of unsteady breathing before Steve can muster the strength -- mentally or physically, he doubts he'll ever know for sure -- to pull out. He shifts sideways so his full weight doesn't fall on Diana, though he's sure she could manage it just fine. He tilts Diana's face to his and kisses her.
Steve tries very hard not to think about how that kiss tastes like farewell.
In the dim light seeping through the half-wrecked shutters, they somehow manage to struggle beneath the blankets. They settle with Diana tucked against the curve of Steve's shoulder. Neither of them talk, but the grip of Diana's strong hand at his hip, the press of her lips to the hinge of his jaw, speak the words Steve thinks she can't bear to say, not in any of her hundreds of languages. It's a matter of minutes before Steve hears Diana's breaths even out into the steady rhythms of slumber.
It will be a while, yet, before Steve can bear to do anything but track the heartbeat steady beneath the thin skin of her wrist.
The thing about Steve is that he knows he's not a nice guy, but he is a good man.
Good men don't abandon their missions, even if all they want to do is convince beautiful warriors to run away with them and never look back. Steve tries not to think about leaving Diana all alone in an unfamiliar land. Tries not to imagine her crying like all those girls back home who get telegrams and dog tags instead of kisses and posies from their sweethearts.
Steve watches Diana sleep, knowing he'll most likely die tomorrow. One night will have to be enough.