Chapter 4: The First Time
The box sat on Nico's kitchen counter like a dare, plain brown cardboard with a shipping label that gave nothing away. Bucky had been staring at it for the better part of ten minutes, his coffee growing cold in his hand, when Nico padded in from the bedroom in nothing but an oversized band tee and a pair of mismatched socks.
"James," she said, her voice warm with amusement, "you're going to burn a hole through that thing with your eyes if you keep at it."
He grunted, setting his mug down. "Who delivered it?"
"Amazon. The nice man in the blue vest. He winked at me." She grinned, crossing to the counter and running those long black acrylics across the top of the box. "Should I open it or do you want to do the honors?"
Bucky's throat worked. His heart was doing something uncomfortable in his chest, a mix of nerves and anticipation he hadn't felt since he was a kid sneaking a look at his dad's Playboys. "You go ahead."
Nico raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. She sliced through the tape with theatrical slowness, drawing out the moment, and when she pulled back the flaps, she let out a low whistle.
"Jesus Christ," she breathed, lifting out the box of her purchase.
The strap-on was sleek, black leather harness with rose gold buckles and a dildo attached that looked, honestly, a little intimidating. Bucky's mouth went dry. He watched her turn it over in her hands, examining it like a curator appraising a piece of art, and his palms were starting to sweat.
"Looks about right, yeah?" She looked up at him, those green eyes dancing. "Solid. Weighted. Good curve for hitting your spot."
"Christ, Nico." His voice came out rougher than he meant.
"Too much? I can get the smaller one if you're having second thoughts." She set the harness down, stepping closer, the tip of her finger coming up to trace along his jaw. "There's no shame in that, Jamie."
"No." The word came out fast, almost desperate. "No, I'm not. I was just."
"Just?"
Bucky exhaled, long and slow. He'd spent the last week thinking about this constantly. About her. About what she'd said she was going to do to him. He'd jerked off three times in the shower that morning alone, trying to take the edge off so he wouldn't be a trembling mess before they even started.
"I've been thinking about it all week," he admitted, his voice dropping low. "Every night I closed my eyes and pictured you fucking me."
Nico's smile softened, turned almost shy despite the bravado she wore like armor. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his mouth, slow and searching, and he let himself fall into it, his hands coming to rest on her hips.
"Good," she murmured against his lips. "Because I've been picturing the same thing. Now get your ass in my bedroom."
The pink lights were already on when they walked in, the laptop closed on her desk, the room lit in a soft, hazy glow. The bed was freshly made, sheets turned down, and there was lube on the nightstand along with a stack of towels. She'd planned this. Of course she had.
"Lie down," she instructed, and he went, his body moving before his mind could catch up. He stretched out on his back, the sheets cool against his heated skin, and watched her strip with a lazy confidence that had his cock thickening in his jeans.
"Take these off," she said, hooking a finger into his waistband. He lifted his hips, let her drag the denim down his thighs along with his boxers, and his cock sprang free, hard and leaking against his stomach.
"Someone's eager." She smiled, warm fingers wrapping around his shaft, giving him a slow, deliberate stroke. "You're always so pretty like this. All that muscle and you go soft as anything for me."
Bucky groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. "Nico."
"Shh. I know. I've got you."
She turned away long enough to strap on the harness, the leather creaking with each adjustment. When she turned back, the sight of her hit him like a physical blow. The rose gold buckles catching the light, the dark shaft jutting out from her hips, her tits bare, her piercings glinting. She was gorgeous, all dark hair and tattoos and wicked smile.
"Ready?"
He nodded, not trusting his voice.
She settled between his thighs, and he watched her slick her fingers with lube, watched her press the first one against his hole, circling gently. The touch sent a jolt through him, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
"Breathe," she murmured, sliding the finger in to the first knuckle. "That's it. Just relax for me, James."
He tried. God, he tried. But the feeling of her finger inside him, the slow, patient stretch, had every nerve in his body singing. She worked him open with meticulous care, one finger, then two, curling and scissoring until his hips were rocking down to meet her.
"Please," he gasped, the word torn out of him. "Nico, please."
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me."
"Look at you," she crooned, adding a third finger, stretching him wider. "So fucking desperate. I love it. I love how you come apart for me, Jamie."
He couldn't answer, too far gone, his whole body shaking with need. She removed her fingers, and he whimpered at the loss, but then she was positioning the head of the dildo against him, pressing just enough to make him feel it.
"Last chance," she said, her voice soft even as her eyes gleamed. "Want me to stop?"
"No. God, no. Do it. Please."
She pushed in.
The stretch was overwhelming, better than anything he'd imagined in the long nights of the past week. He cried out, hands fisting in the sheets, his back arching off the bed as she seated herself inside him, until her hips were flush against his ass.
"Fuck," he gasped. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"That's it," she murmured, drawing back slowly, then pushing in again. "Feel how deep I am? You're taking me so well, baby."
She set a rhythm, slow and deep, her hands braced on his thighs, each stroke hitting something inside him that made his vision white out at the edges. A low, broken sound was coming from his throat, wordless and pleading.
"You're so good," she whispered, leaning over him, her strapped cock grinding against his prostate. "So fucking perfect for me. All mine."
"Yours," he echoed, the word a wrecked breath. "Nico, I'm going to."
"Come for me, Jamie. Come on my cock."
His orgasm hit him like a freight train, pulling his body taut, his cock spurting across his stomach with a force that left him shaking. He was still coming when she shifted, grinding her own slick cunt against his thigh, panting against his neck, and she followed him over, a low, keening moan escaping her as she came grinding against his leg.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then Nico eased out of him, the leather harness unsnapping, and she collapsed beside him, both of them slick with sweat and sex.
"Holy shit," she breathed, laughing a little, breathless.
Bucky turned his head, reaching for her, pulling her into the curve of his body. His voice was still wrecked, his heart still slamming. "Yeah."