[ It thrills him to hear that answer, that soft promise: he belongs to Steve, he swore it and signed himself to him, long before he understood what it would truly mean to be owned by a man like this. Bucky never would have agreed, though, if it were anyone else. He loves Steve so hopelessly, his strong hands and his great heart, so fiercely protective of Bucky; he loves his body, too, broad and beautiful, his mouth and cock, his wicked mind. Steve overwhelms him, and Bucky wants nothing more than to be on his knees for him, to please him and be used for his pleasure.
He suckles at Steve's cock like he was made for this, with fierce devotion, swallowing eagerly around the hot, rigid length that nudges into his throat. His cheeks hollow, lips wet and swollen as they slide up and down his shaft, as Bucky bobs his head in his lap, pressing down as deep as he can until his nose is buried in blond curls and his chin presses to Steve's balls. The musky, hot scent of Steve's body fills his lungs, arousing him until he aches, flushed all over. The flush deepens as Steve pets and praises him absently, reaching for his phone--a hot edge of humiliation sliding over him, a shamed kind of pleasure.
He loves being treated like Steve's pet, his plaything. A toy good for pleasure but little else, not worth any notice when he's down on his knees except for how good he is at bringing Steve off. His sweet little whore.
Bucky tries, he does his best for Steve's pleasure. Moans around his length for him, eyes closing in concentration as he sucks and licks, the heel of his hand kneading gently at Steve's balls. Working his mouth and throat around him, never letting him slip out, eager to feel him come, for a load of thick semen spilled down his throat. ]
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He suckles at Steve's cock like he was made for this, with fierce devotion, swallowing eagerly around the hot, rigid length that nudges into his throat. His cheeks hollow, lips wet and swollen as they slide up and down his shaft, as Bucky bobs his head in his lap, pressing down as deep as he can until his nose is buried in blond curls and his chin presses to Steve's balls. The musky, hot scent of Steve's body fills his lungs, arousing him until he aches, flushed all over. The flush deepens as Steve pets and praises him absently, reaching for his phone--a hot edge of humiliation sliding over him, a shamed kind of pleasure.
He loves being treated like Steve's pet, his plaything. A toy good for pleasure but little else, not worth any notice when he's down on his knees except for how good he is at bringing Steve off. His sweet little whore.
Bucky tries, he does his best for Steve's pleasure. Moans around his length for him, eyes closing in concentration as he sucks and licks, the heel of his hand kneading gently at Steve's balls. Working his mouth and throat around him, never letting him slip out, eager to feel him come, for a load of thick semen spilled down his throat. ]