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He turned you so that you were facing the mirror in front of his bed, his shoulders broad, arms thick, hands holding you up easily. His flesh and metal hand on either side of your hips offering a contrast in temperature.
“I want to watch you fall apart in that mirror, doll,” he murmured, his breath hot at your ear.
“I want to see every second of it.”
He pressed up against you, his body flush against your back. He could see every inch, every curve, drinking in every subtle movement as if he couldn’t bear to miss a single breath you took. His gaze never wavered from your reflection. Bucky could see in the mirror how small you looked in his hold, like a toy made just for him. Your delicate frame pressed to his chest, legs parted around his thick thighs. The difference in size made him feel even more possessive, more primal. You were his to take, to use—over and over again.
He held your gaze in the mirror, dark and commanding. He saw the desire in your eyes, the desperate need to be his. And he’d make sure you knew, every second, exactly who you belonged to.
“Exactly what I wanted, doll,” he asked gruffly, his hand running up your thighs. “To see you spread open for my cock just like this. Look at that pretty pussy begging to be fucked by me.” His tone was low and hoarse, sending a shiver down your spine, each word deliberate and searing.
His tip was angry and swollen, leaking at the sight of you. His grip on your hips tightened, and before you could answer, he pulled you down onto him, groaning as he sunk you down on his cock and felt you stretch around him, watching your face as you sank onto him, the stretch overwhelming. He wanted to see every angle of you, wanted to see how you felt as you took him. His eyes were dark with desire, fixated on your face in the mirror.
“Pretty pussy is so god damn tight—I’m not gonna last long with you like this babydoll.”
You felt shy watching yourself. You’ve never tried anything like this before. He could feel you hesitate but he held your legs open, his grip tight and possessive.
“Don’t hide from me sweetheart. See how good you look like that? So beautiful, and all mine" he murmured, his voice ragged. “Look at yourself—taking me like the fucking good girl you are sweetheart. Tight pretty pussy made to be mine.”
“It’s too big,” you whine as you’re not even half way full, stretching you to the point of pain and pleasure blurring the lines.
Bucky couldn’t help but laugh softly at the comment, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. He felt so good having you like this, felt consumed by you.
“Too big, doll?” he repeated, his voice rough with desire. “Don’t worry, you can take it. I’ll make sure of it. Be a good girl and let me fuck you full.”
“Just a little bit more,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Let me feel all of you sweetheart.”
He shifted his grip, fingers digging into your hips as his hands clenched tighter, anchoring you to him like you couldn’t escape. His body was a taut coil of desperate need as you sunk down to his hilt. Bucky groaned softly as he moved you slowly, up and down, his eyes fixed on your face in the mirror. He could see how much he affected you, lips parted and cock drunk, how much you wanted him, and it only made him want you more.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “Let me show you how good it can be. Just relax for me doll, can you do that for me?”
Bucky groaned, his flesh hand moving you with effortless control, fingers teasing your clit with the cold bite of his metal ones. The shocking contrast made you gasp, nails digging into his thighs, leaving crescent moons imprinted into his skin. He loved how desperate you were for him—how every shudder, every ragged breath screamed your need. A throbbing pulse of need burned in your belly, and he felt it too, your slick leaking, coating his cock and soaking him, seeping into the bedsheets.
“I want you to make a mess on me, doll” he growled, his voice rough. “I want you to cum all over my cock and I’m gonna fuck it right back into you.”
Bucky’s eyes darkened, burning with hunger as he watched you spread yourself wider for him, every inch of your body laid bare in the mirror’s unforgiving reflection. For a moment, he pulled his metal fingers away from your swollen clit to tighten his grip on your hip, but you whimpered at the sudden loss, fingers grasping for him, dragging his hand back down to tease and swirl it just the way you liked it. He knew just where to touch, how fast to go. He knew your body. He had it memorized. The wet, desperate sounds your pussy made were obscene—moans and gasps drowning out any coherent thought as his fingers circled and teased your clit with relentless, torturous precision.
“That’s it, doll,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “Show me how you want me. Such a good girl.”
Bucky’s groan rumbled deep as your desperate whine cut through the air, his body tightening with need. He lived for the sound—raw, needy, broken for him.
“Just like that—“ you whimpered, your eyes fixated on your cream dripping out of you and down his cock, onto the bed.
“Just like this?” he asked, his voice low and rough. “You like it like this, doll? God look at the mess you’re making pretty girl. Gonna fuck you full of my cum.”
He closed his eyes, soaking in the desperate, wet sounds—the ragged gasp of your breath with every forceful thrust. When he opened them, hungry eyes bore into yours—fierce and unyielding.
“Come on baby show me you’re mine, cum for me angel,” he rasped, voice harsh and desperate.
“Not without you,” you whispered.
He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you like a promise and a plea. Without breaking eye contact, he pulled you closer, every movement deliberate, filled with need. His hands cradled your hips as he moved deeper, slower—each thrust heavy with purpose.
Tears pricked at your eyes, blurring the edges of the world, but you didn’t care, your resolve unwavering.
He said nothing, cradling your face like a fragile treasure, brushing the tears away with reverence. His voice was low, steady.
“That’s it sweetheart, let it out. Every last tear belongs to me. Show me how good it feels. I’m not going anywhere.”
His grip snapped tighter on your hips, dragging you harder—faster against him. His voice dropped, rough and relentless. “Let go. Show me how much you need this—how much you need me.”
Your body tensed, walls clenching around him as pleasure flooded your senses, numbing everything but the searing pressure inside. Your breath hitched and shattered into shuddering gasps, every nerve ignited with white hot fire.
In the mirror, he caught your gaze—hooded and glazed with tears and burning with desperate need. That hunger shattered something inside him, made his grip tighten like iron, his body shudder violently with the force of it. The hot, slick flood of passion and rawness between you was intoxicating—molten, claiming—binding him to this dark, brutal moment.
“Please don’t stop,” you whispered, voice trembling with need.
He groaned low, voice thick with hunger, “I’m not fucking stopping sweetheart. Cum for me pretty girl, I wanna watch you in the mirror. You’re all mine to take.”
His words were so easy to break you, and pushed you over the to cum. You clung to him scraping his thighs with your fingernails, milking him through the pulsing rhythm of your release, your body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of euphoria crashed over you. The world narrowed to the slick warmth of your cream and all his cum dripping onto his lap as he fucked you full, your tight pussy pulsating to keep it all in.
"Can’t believe how much you take, baby. Look at you, holdin' on so tight to everything I’m giving you."
The sound of your ragged, gasping breaths echoed in his bedroom, your cries swallowed by the dark mirror that held your every desperate, sinful moment.
When the last tremors of your release had faded, sweat prickling both of your skins, your body slumped against his, he didn’t let you go. He kept you there, pressed against him, buried deep inside you, hands wrapped around your hips. He pressed a kiss to your neck before he spoke, his breath was hot and heavy in your ear, his voice a low growl that sent a fresh shiver down your spine.
“This is what happens when my good girl finally lets go. Even when you’re so shy, so sweet—you can’t hide this. You belong to me and I’ll fuck you harder, rougher, and deeper every single time to prove it.”