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You feel like you’re drowning, unmoored, hands mindlessly clawing at the sheets as you try to find something, anything to anchor you.
Bucky has your thighs on his shoulders, ankles locked together and digging into the small of his back. He eats like a man starved, like he’s never tasted anything this sweet. You can’t help but writhe under his tongue as his hands hold your hips down against the mattress.
You’d already cum once, screaming his name and soaking his jaw. He’d refused to relent, muttering something about how he ‘likes it long.’
Right, the fight.
He’d already wrung any argument out of you, your insistence that you just wanna see it short, long forgotten when he pulled down your panties and spread your thighs.
Your right hand finds its mark, fingers tangling themselves in dark hair, combing down to the root and grabbing on tight. So lost in lost pleasure you’re not even conscious of it when you pull.
Bucky stops, he’s panting, hot breaths torturous against your cunt. His eyes, icy and wild look up.
You have enough sense to panic, apologies spilling out of your mouth, frantic and nonsensical as you start pulling your hand back,
Bucky shakes his head, grabbing your wrists and pulling your fingers back to his scalp. You can’t see his lips from this angle, but you can feel them moving as they brush against your folds, his words vibrating against you.
“Do that again.” He tells you, voice dark and raspy.
So you do, another tug, this one less certain, not even as much force as when you brush your hair.
Bucky shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your clit. “Harder.”
This time you match the strength you used before, a hard pull on his roots, dragging him closer to where you so desperately want him.
“That’s it.” He tells you, eyes closing. He starts to nose at your clit again, his lips start to mouth at your cunt. “Keep doin’ that.” He mutters against it, sending a shiver up your spine. Then he dives back in.
His enthusiasm doubles, his efforts leave you gasping, hips grinding up against his face while you gasp. You other hand grabs his hair now too using it to pull him even tighter against you.
Bucky moans, you can see his hips grinding into the mattress below, chasing his own high while he hunts down yours.
Hours later, you can’t help but ask him about it, your fingers soft now, massaging all the places you pulled the hardest.
Bucky hums, and doesn’t give you an answer, instead he just says “Sure as shit not cutting it now.” He reached up, lacing his fingers through yours and bringing the back of your hand down to his lips. “Gotta give you something to hold onto.”