18+ Knife Play
The Winter Soldier held your chin in his metal fingers as you leaned back against his chest. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, his warm breath on your face made your heart race. But you didn’t move. You didn’t dare. His curious hand explored your body, kneading your breasts, grazing the skin on your exposed abdomen, trailing down to your thighs.
“Do you want to try it?”
His voice sounded gravelly. Like he hadn’t spoken in years. Maybe he hadn’t. He was so close to you, his chest pressed against your back. You weren’t bound, you didn’t need to be. But you had no idea how you had ended up in this compromising position, pinned to a bench with your legs spread apart, wound around its wooden legs. It was almost uncomfortable. Almost. You were torn between the vulnerability of your exposure and the thrill of anticipation. He had an air of command and you felt compelled to comply.
“Try… what?”
Your words were choked. There was a rumble in his chest which vibrated through you. The sound was almost ominous, a foreboding if you will, of things to come. A shiver shot down your spine as the feeling of titanium digits was replaced by a cold metal blade pressed against your neck. He dragged it over the fragile skin covering your clavicle, taking with it a fine layer of skin. Not enough to break the barrier but enough that he left a thin red line. You hissed slightly in complaint, ignoring the throbbing in your core.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”
Soldat squeezed your thigh harder in response to your outburst, humming softly as your breath shuddered to keep control of your emotions. You knew what he wanted from you, but you didn’t know the lengths he would go to take it from you. The threat of penetration constantly on your mind. He had already sliced through your shirt and made jagged cuts in your skirt. Now he was working on the strap of your bra, gentle strokes to and fro, snapping frayed threads one at a time. You scrunched closed your eyes waiting for that inevitable release of your breasts to spring free.
“So soft, so pretty.”
His hair brushed your face as he leaned in. His tongue ventured out, licking the redness his blade had created. When he was satisfied by the sighs that emanated from your lips, he latched his mouth to the base of your neck, chapped lips rubbing as they sucked your blood to the surface, marking you with small bruises. He couldn’t get enough of the sweetness of your skin. A strangled moan burst out of you, you’d lost all control of your senses and his bright blue eyes twinkled with excitement.
“You don’t need to hide it. Not from me.”
You had never seen him behave like this, but you had always felt his gaze, long before you found yourself in this situation. The best thing to do would be to get up and walk away. For the sake of your career, for the sake of your safety. But his grip was strong and you felt weak under his power. You had the ability to say no, but your brain refused to allow you to speak. Your body had its own plan, it wanted what the asset was offering. The voice of reason in your mind subdued by the way Soldat’s nose was nuzzling your ear.
“Please!”
What were you begging for? He was ready to comply with your needs. You heard the blade change hands, from flesh to metal. Dragging open your lids, you saw the base of the blade ghost over your entrance. The sound of pleasure huffed from behind you, as his fingers discovered your dripping core. You felt something smooth hard against your folds. His titanium fist gripped the sharp edges as the base of his trusty blade massaged your burning skin and pushed against your sensitive nub. You struggled slightly in his arms, whining and shaking your head. He stopped abruptly.
“No? What is it you really want?”
Winter smirked, casually swiping his thumb against your trembling lips, smearing your arousal across them. The base of the blade played with your walls and you squirmed in his arms, yearning for something more. It was thick, but you could take more. You craved it. You craved him. So you turned your head and for the first time with conviction and clarity, you gave him his answer.
“You.”
God, I’m always a slut for some knife play!