By the time they got to the campground, the storm was just upon them.
Steve had pushed the RV, managing to keep them on the road, even through the turns and twists. His hands had been steady, holding the steering wheel, his eyes never leaving the highway, keeping a safe distance from the vehicles in front of them.
The brief stop at the office, to grab their reservation information packet, which held the map and the paperwork that held their permits, and they were back to moving, following the signs to where their spot was. The time outside, even though she had kept the hood up, had sent her into shivers, and she saw Steve frowning as he sent brief glances her way.

"We can back in." She told him, going over the packet, using the dimmed light from her cell phone to read the information. "There's power, water....and possibly sewage hookups."
"Good." Steve nodded, his jaw flexing. "I wasn't looking forward to using the generator."
"We could... I think. What's our decibels?" she asked, flipping the page. "There's a whole list of technical stuff, regarding generator usage."
"Let's just use the power hookup, and leave it alone." he suggested, slowing down over the speed bumps. "Be nicer to our neighbors that way."
"Better to annoy them with other sounds." She grinned, looking up at where they were going. "Continue down this curve, then take the first left."

He nodded, following her directions.
"And we are... slot number... forty five...." She spoke, watching the numbers, seeing a few other RVs, a few buses, pop up campers, and what looked like a building on the back of a truck. But there was their spot, a few spots away from the others. "There. That's us."
"I see it." Steve nodded, as he slowed down. "We should be able to back in."
She sat back, gathering the papers back into the packet, turning off her phone, as she waited for him to start maneuvering the RV.
"You wanna get out and help me back this beast in? It's dark, and I'm not sure where the edge is." Steve sighed, looking at her.
"Sure." She nodded, setting the packet on the dash, before standing up and going into the back, briefly. She stood on her toes, reaching above her head and opening one of the cabinets. "I think I saw... yup!"
She held up a flash light, before coming up to the front, pushing back her seat, and jumping down the stairs.

"I'll stand on the edge, and help guide you back in?" She spoke loud enough to be heard over the wind, feeling it whip the back of her legs, and almost pushing her.

"Yeah. Just like that, Babydoll." Steve nodded, then turning to open the window at his elbow.
Brooklyn shut the door, going around the front, turning on the flash light, and jumping up to tap his elbow at the window, as she walked down the length of the RV, until she was at the back of it. Turning around, she held up the flash light, and began to back up, watching where her feet were going. She was making sure there was enough room on the side of them, that they would be able to set up the slide outs, while also trying to make sure Steve was backing in straight. Between the glow from the tail lights, and her flash light, she was able to make sure things were going correct.

She spotted the hook up box, and stopped, while continuing to gesture with the flashlight, encouraging him to keep backing up, until she was sure- without going around the other side to check to make absolutely sure- the box was even with where the hookups were on the RV.

"Right there!" she called out, and Steve stopped the RV, putting it in park without turning it off. He climbed out of the RV on the driver's side, coming down to where she was, nodding when he saw what she had done. He went around the back, to the other side, before coming back, pausing to kiss her on the head, then climbed back into the RV, turning it off. He climbed out again, shutting the door, and came back to her.
"Help me with the hookups!" he spoke, loud enough to be heard over the wind. "The light will be helpful!"
"Okay!" She nodded, following him around the other side, and held the flashlight as he opened the box, reaching in for the cord. He pulled it out, plugging it in, before leading the cord to the box on the side of their camping spot.

"Over here, please!" He asked, as he opened the box, the cord ready. She trotted over, pointing the flash light on the box, and he nodded, placing the other end of the cord into the plug. He wiggled it, then tapped it, before letting the box lid drop, then tapped it to make sure it was closed. "Okay! Water!"
"Steve!" She followed him, watching as he began pulling out the hose from the housing in the RV, after shutting the electrical hookup. "Maybe we can wait until morning!"
"Huh?" He paused, looking at her, his face confused. "We need to set up! Put out the slides!"
"We can do that in the morning! After the storm!" She shook her head. "We don't need all that space, just to sleep! We can do what we did last night! Movie and nibbles!"

He opened his mouth to reply, and a blast of lightening, followed shortly by thunder cut him off. As if the sound summoned it, the rain began to pelt them, and she felt her hair start to get wet.
"Shit! Get inside, Brooklyn!" He ordered, dropping the water hose, placing his hand on her shoulder, urging her to go faster, until they got to the door. "Inside!"
She opened the door, and climbed up the stairs, clutching the flashlight, and darting out of his way as he followed. He reached back, pulling the door shut, muttering as he leaned over to the driver's side, rolling up the window. He stood there, looking at her, water dripping off his hair, before he reached up and rubbed his head. All he did was drive the water down his face, wetting his already drenched tee shirt.

In short, he looked ridiculous.
She bit her lip, before she couldn't help it. She started to laugh. Full on, grabbing her sides, bent over, gasping for breath, laugh.
"Yeah." He nodded, before he joined her, shaking his head. "Yeah. That was... something."
"You look..." she shook her head, trying to catch her breath. "You... Oh, God...Steve... you look like you took a swim in your clothes!"

He chuckled, flicking his wet hand at her. "You don't look much better, Babydoll."
She stuck her tongue out at him, before a full body shiver hit her.
"Well, that tells me the first order of business." He nodded, sighing. He leaned over and took the keys out of the ignition, reaching over the dash to hit the switch, and the RV hummed for a moment, before the running lights along the edges of the RV began to glow. He pulled the curtains closed, securing them for their privacy. "Out of those wet things. Go dry off. I'm gonna make sure the power connection is enough for the night."
Brooklyn nodded. "Alright. You want me to bring you a towel, first?"
"I'll be fine." He sent her a reassuring smile. "Go on, out of those wet clothes."
She turned, pausing to kick off her wet shoes, leaving them behind her seat, then padding to the back of the RV, unzipping her sweatshirt, taking it off as she reached the back, pausing to stuff it in the hamper. Her shirt joined it, before she shivered again, cupping her breasts as she went over to the closet area, opening the door and rummaging through it. She pulled out a pair of fuzzy sleep pants, and a shirt, before opening the side that held Steve's clothes, finding one of the sweatshirts in his size that Kitty had packed for him.
Thanking the woman for her foresight, she changed, then went back and pulled on a pair of socks. Climbing over the bed, she went into the master bath, grabbing a couple of towels, climbing back over, to go back into the main part of the RV.
"Here." She offered him one of the towels, watching as he took it and began blotting the rain off his head and body, before tossing the other one over her own head, beginning to rub her hair.
"The connection seems to be holding." He commented, as he moved past her to toss the towel in the hamper, then going fully into the bedroom to change, coming out in a pair of sweats and a dry tee shirt. "So, if you want a full dinner, I can make that happen."
He opened the fridge, looking while scratching his chest, before switching to the freezer. He nodded, turning to smile at her.

"Yup. I can do a full dinner."

"Whatever you want to do, I'm fine with." She told him, pulling the towel off her head, coming over to lean against him. "I'm with you, in the middle of America... with a summer storm beating over our heads. As long as I'm warm and dry? I can handle whatever you decide to feed me."
"In that case... why don't you take a seat, put on something to watch, and leave dinner to me?" He bent to kiss her, his hands landing on her hips.
They broke apart as another burst of thunder rolled over the RV, and the rain kicked up, sounding like it was beating down harder.
Steve frowned. "Feel free to turn the sound up."
Brooklyn nodded, pulling away, letting a hand rub along his side, moving to the built in recliners, tucking her feet up under her as she sat down. "Something fun and bright?"
"The happier, the better. Something..." He paused, pursing his lips. "Childish?"
"I can do that." She grinned, nodding. She reached into the pocket on the side of the recliner, finding the remote, and figuring out the buttons, watching as the TV turned on. She was pleased to see, that after a moment of loading, their connection was withstanding the storm. After flipping through the offerings for a bit, she paused at one, before grinning. "Have we watched The Last Unicorn?"
Steve came over, reading the description, before brushing a hand over her head. "No. It sounds... interesting."
"You say that about all the kids movies we watch." She grinned up at him, hitting the play function, sitting back, adjusting the sound before putting the remote back in the pocket. "But then you enjoy them."
"I like watching Jules and you watch them." He corrected, going to the kitchen area, starting to pull ingredients out of the fridge, before setting a pot on the stove. "That's what I enjoy. I like watching you experience new things. I like seeing how you react to things. That's why I like watching them with you."

She watched him, as the opening of the movie began, her heart filling with all the love she had for him, so much she felt it was going to burst from her chest to fly around the RV and slam into his body. This was why she loved him. Well, one of the reasons. He could be like a lot of the men she had heard and read about, who didn't take pleasure or joy in the little things. But Steve liked and loved watching her and her experience things, how it settled into them. He wanted to be there, to see it all. He wanted to take joy in their joy.

It wasn't always sex, and dirty words, or drinking wine while the little one was a sleep.
It was simple, warm love.

She stood up, going over to wrap her arms around him from behind, resting her head on his back.

"I love you." She whispered.
His hand landing on hers, he chuckled. "I love you too, Brooklyn."
Steve patted her hand a few times, before turning in her arms to bend down and kiss her.
"Your movie's starting." He reminded her. "And I wanna get dinner done soon, so I can get you fed."
She stood on her toes, pecking his lips, before nodding and dropping down, going back to the recliner to watch the movie.

He turned back to the stove, and began to put things together.
"Soup, I think." He told her, over his shoulder. "It seems like a night for it."
"Even if it is in the middle of June." She snarked. "It's the mountains."
"And the weather." Steve agreed. "Still, between my body heat, and the blankets I know Kitty packed away somewhere, I'll keep you warm. Don't worry."
"There's always the heater." She commented lightly. "It may not be ideal, but if we have to-"

"If we have to." He nodded, stirring. "But I would prefer not to."

She shrugged, leaving it alone. She had faith in him, that he wouldn't let her get too cold. Ever since her return from Poland, in January, she had felt the cold a little sharper. Steve had taken it as a personal mission, a personal promise to her, that he wouldn't let her get cold. If she even shivered, he was quick to find out why, and either get her warmer, or fix the reason she was cold in the first place.

Like right now. It wasn't direly cold, like if they had come in the winter, but the summer storm brought a cold front that she had not really been expecting. But she had forgotten how things could change in mountains. You could never trust the weather, no matter the season.
When had that happened, she wondered, as she watched the movie.

When had she become such a...a... city girl?

When had she stopped paying attention to everything and anything around her? When had she slipped into this complacence?
Yes, having Steve around constantly helped ease the burden. Being in one place for as long as she had... How long had it been since she had been in one place this long?

She rested her elbow on the arm of the recliner, resting her cheek on her fist as she stared at the cartoon playing on the screen, thinking.

There had been that period in the seventies.... When she had been under the banner of SHIELD, while actually doing the work of HYDRA. Had that been the last time...? No, it had been when they had Rebecca...

She took a deep breath, a slow inhale, before slowly letting it out, pushing the memory of her sister's crumpled body, the pain, the hurt... the mourning.

Somewhere, sometime, between August and now... she had let a lot of things slip to the wayside. She had slipped into this state... where she knew what she used to be, she knew what she wanted to be, but she didn't know what she currently was. What she was eventually going to be.
There was a taste of excitement to it. The not knowing. Like standing in the open door of an airplane at night, waiting for the order to jump, not knowing where she was going to land, or what she was going to find when she did, if she ever did. The rush, the adrenaline, the thrill. It was all a part of it. But she knew, no matter where she landed, Steve was gonna be there to catch her.

She was that sure of him.

He cursed, snatching his hand from the pot, shaking it hard and she laughed.
"Amazing as this might be, Steve, the stove is hot." She joked, curling her feet up on the recliner to wrap her arms around her knees. "Shocking, I know."

He gave a rough sigh. "Thank you, Brooklyn. I somehow missed the memo."
"Oh, that's sassy." she laughed again. "You're being sassy. What happens when I'm sassy? i think i get a spanking. Is that what i need to do with you? Bend you over my knee and make you count them out?"

"Now who's being sassy?" He shot back. "Cause it sounds like it's you, right now."

"And what are you gonna do about it?" She challenged, grinning. He stared at her blankly, and she laughed. "That's right. Nothin'. Absolutely nothing, Rogers. Why? Cause you can't. That's why."
He paused, pursing his lips at her, before turning off the stove. "That's where you are very wrong, Babydoll. Stand up."
She obeyed, a thrill running through her, arousal snapping her attention to him fully.

Steve leaned against the counter, folding his arms, while looking her up and down. "Come here."

"The soup." she murmured, folding her hands in front of her.

"The soup will keep." He straightened, his feet braced, and she swore he was flexing. "I told you... come here."

She went over to him, standing in front of him, not breaking eye contact.

"How long has it been, Babydoll, since I reminded you of my ownership?" He asked, still looking at her with a stern face.
"Too long." She couldn't help it. The words left her in a purr. And it hit her. Steve was jumpy. Jumpy cause of the storm. If she could convince him to work that out on her, as opposed to hide it, or worse, hide away from it, this could be a very productive night. And a pleasurable one, for both of them. "Too long since you've given me a good seeing to."
"I don't know. I seem to remember fucking you pretty hard the other day." He shook his head. "And on our wedding night. I tied you down. I remember went pretty hard, most of the night."
She shrugged, before grinning. "I'm sorry, I don't remember any of that. Guess it wasn't that impressive."

His eyes narrowed, and his arms dropped, taking the last step to be nearly pressed against her. "Oh, now Babydoll...why you gotta say things like that?"

"Cause it's true?" She shrugged again, still grinning. "Whachya gonna do about it?"

Steve's hand darted out, cupping the back of her neck, his fingers digging in slightly. "A few things come to mind."
He used his grip on her neck to press her down, until her knees bent, and she ended up on the floor, kneeling and looking up at him. She noted with internal glee that he was as excited as she was becoming to play. Who ever developed sweatpants for men should have their image enshrined as a statue in every city, of every nation. It was a gift to womankind, she decided. Especially when on a frame built like Steve's. Really, he had nothing to be ashamed of. It crossed her mind, again, that if the whole saving the world thing didn't work out, he would make a killing on the pole. Women would sell everything they owned, to watch him on the stage, oiled up and in a g-string.

Then again, that would mean that Brooklyn would have to share. And it was well known by now, Brooklyn Rogers didn't share. At all.

She licked her lips, looking up at him, waiting.
Steve had his lips pursed again, before they thinned out, and his jaw jumped.
"I want you to stay right there." He ordered, stepping back. "Don't move. I know you can do that for me, right, Babydoll?"

Brooklyn nodded, keeping her mouth shut. He hadn't requested a verbal confirmation, yet.

"Good girl." He nodded, before turning and heading into the bedroom area. She watched as he opened the drawer under the bed, pulling out items, sorting through them, before throwing some back, then turning and returning to her. He held out the cuffs, letting her see them.
"Take off your sweatshirt. Shirt, too. Then, hands behind your back." He told her, and she obeyed, pulling the sweatshirt off, taking the shirt with it, feeling her nipples harden at the touch of cool in the RV, before reaching behind herself and lacing her fingers together. Steve went around, bending down to slip the cuffs on her wrists, and she spread her legs, bending forward to make it easier for him. "I think... it really has been a bit of time since we've done some hard play, hasn't it? Especially if you cant remember. And I swear to God, I think you remember everything."

"Just when you leave the toilet seat up." she quipped, without thinking. She felt him pause, before he pushed down on her shoulder, nearly making her bend. She had to lift up on her knees to allow him to push her head down. As soon as her hips raised up, he smacked her bottom. "Yeah, that one I deserved."

"Oh, more than that one, Babydoll. Don't worry. We'll do a rundown, because you see to be forgetting things so easily." He helped her back up to sitting on her knees, patting her on the head. "Let's start with the easiest. What's your safe word?"
"Shield." She responded instantly. Other than the first time, when she had said it in the Tower, when he had basically surprised her while wearing his little star studded battle suit with the bright, white, inviting star plastered right across his chest, she had never safe worded. But he still asked for confirmation, from time to time, when they played.

He rewarded her with a stroke on her head. "Good girl. And do you want to play?"
"Yes, Sir." She nodded, grinning up at him. "Very much so."

Steve bent down, kissing her, while a hand cupped her breast. Against her lips, he praised her. "That is my good girl. My beautiful wife. My beloved plaything."

He stood up, stepping back, pushing his sweats down from his hips, until the tangled at his thighs. He reached down, taking his cock in his hand, and starting to slowly stroke it. He worked it in the way she knew he liked, not going all the way to the leaking head, but working the foreskin with each stroke. He had told her, not long after they started having intimate relations (seeing as the time before he actually first fully penetrated her wasn't really anything by lengthy foreplay- not that she was complaining in the slightest) that the head was very sensitive while he was erect, and sometimes too much attention to it could prove to be slightly painful. He had said that oral really didn't cause that problem, but was quick to direct her away from the head if she focused too much attention to it.

From what Brooklyn had read and heard, the same amount of nerve endings that were in his entire cock, were in the same space as her clit. Which would make sense, if she was more sensitive. But men were odd about their genitalia. Steve said he would be quick to turn his hips, if expecting a strike there, even if he was wearing protective gear. And too often he turned his hips to the side, when Juliana ran full tilt at him, to protect himself. But Brooklyn could and would hold his hand or mouth and tongue against her, even if it was getting to be to sensitive.
Which just went to prove her running theory that men, and Steve more than most, were idiots.

"You said, just a little bit ago, that you could handle whatever I fed you." He commented, his breathing coming a tad heavier, which it usually did when he was either worked up, or horny. Right now, she was leaning towards the latter. It boggled her mind that people used to think, and still thought, that he was some sort of bastion for purity and abstinence. As far as she was aware, Steve's default mode was 'fuck his Babydoll until she was bow legged, grin at her across the breakfast table, and then try to figure out how soon he could fuck her again.'

"Yes, Sir." she responded, darting her tongue out to wet her lips, before nodding. "I did say that."

He nodded, stepping closer, until the head of his cock brushed her lips. "Can you guess what I want you to put in your mouth, or do I need to order you?"

After a twitch of her lips, which she would willingly admit was a smile, she opened her mouth, and swallowed him down, the sound of pleasure at the taste of his pre-cum leaving her, even as her eyes slipped shut. He groaned, and she would swear on anything sacred on this earth, that he relaxed.
Which told her everything.

The storm was bothering him, more than he was willing to let her know. Stupid fucking idiot. He would rather suffer, and deal with his issues, then let her know.
Maybe, if he had, she would have been sucking his cock, from the moment they got back into the RV, after hooking up the power. Maybe then, he would already be relaxed, and they could be cuddled in bed right now.

But, then again... it had been a bit of time since they had a serious play session. She wasn't sure their wedding night counted. That had been rather tame, for them. Well, maybe. Other people might consider that hardcore. But for Steve and Brooklyn? Nah, that was just an average night.
She unconsciously tried to pull her hands around, to place them on his hips or thighs, slightly annoyed when she was reminded they were bound behind her back. Huffing through her nose, she returned to sucking, focusing her attention back to where it was needed at the moment. The feel of him in her mouth, weighting down her tongue, the length in her throat, the throbbing of his cock that seemed to fill her. Her body responded with the same beat, the heat and wetness beginning to leak from between her legs. Her clit twinged with sympathy throbs, with every pulse she felt from his cock.

His hands landed on her head, helping her movements as she bobbed, low groans reverberating through him.
And the control she felt she had, even at this moment with her hands bound behind her back, was exhilarating.

She opened her eyes, loving the look of darkness on his face, as he watched her work his cock, teeth bared, face tight. Darkened eyes, flaring nostrils. Domination etched into every line on his expression. This was how she loved to see him. Untamed. Free. Unfettered by morality's shackles. Hers. In this moment, like this, he was utterly and fully hers.

Thunder crashed outside, and he flinched, his eyes flaring wide before he raised his head, looking around, and she realized she had lost him, for a moment.

Pulling back, she kept her lips on the head of his cock, careful of the sensitive skin.
"Stay with me, Baby." She told him, giving the leaking head delicate licks, savoring the flavor that was wholly Steve despite the circumstances. "Right here. Stay with me. Focus on me. On what I'm doing. Okay?"
As he lowered his head to look at her, she slowly moved, swallowing him down again, keeping her eyes on his, until he was seated in her throat again. Figuring she had his attention again, she returned to working him, to bring him pleasure. If he was focused on the pleasure, whatever was happening outside the RV would fall away.

If he was focused on her, nothing else mattered.

She felt his hands land on her head again, his finger digging into her hair, gripping her head and helping guide her movements. His hips started that rocking motion that indicated he was focusing on his pleasure, possibly even losing himself to it.

Any minute now, the words would start to leave his mouth, and she would hear the filth that aroused her even more. Like a secret key to a secret lock, it was what unlocked that hidden place inside of her, far behind the front of power and control she had been building since she was a child.

It had taken Brooklyn longer than she would have liked to ever admit to figure out what Steve had been doing. But after their first initial sexual experience together in the Tower, she had taken time to look up some of the things Steve had discussed liking. It had been a twisting, turning, long spiral down into subjects she had never known about. Things Papa and HYDRA had hidden from her, for whatever reasons.

Things that had sent her mind spinning, and her body throbbing.... like it was now.

She was not what she would consider a natural sub. Nothing in her makeup, as she believed it, was subservient to anyone. Let alone a man. God knew, she had been forced to kneel, in one capacity or another, before men her entire life. Her father was one of those men. But... for Steve, all he had to do was look at her, and her knees buckled. She craved giving him the softer side of herself, the side he called out.
As much as she knew he enjoyed that, she also knew he enjoyed the bratty side of her. The side that pushed him, that teased him, that tested the limits he had set for her. It allowed him to do things like set out spankings for her. Tie her up and fuck her in every position he wanted until he flooded her pussy with his cum. Degrade her with his words and touches. All of that, she knew, he wanted and craved.

It was odd, she mused, as she doubled her efforts on his cock, that he had managed to hide it all away from the world around them. People hailed him as a moral hero... when in reality, he was as far removed from that as possible.

"Fuck, Babydoll..." he grunted, starting to fuck her mouth, sawing his cock in and out over her tongue. "There's my beautiful little cock sucker."

She had him. He was hers.
The ultimate rule of a sub, she had learned, was that the power of the encounter, no matter what it was, was in the hands of the sub. It was the sub who could end things first, most times, by using their safe word. It was a sub who could drive a dom to distraction, or be sweet, or be a brat, or just be... themselves. It was a sub that had the capacity to be whatever the dom needed.
Yes, a dom would and should guide the sub into finding pleasure in what they did. It was a dom that administered punishments. It was a dom that could inflict pain or pleasure. It was a dom that set the rules, and made sure the sub adhered to them.
But, the dom had to remain in ultimate control, at all time. They could never lose their temper. They could never strike in anger. They could never really let go.

A sub could, and was encouraged to let go.

And that was where the real power of a sub lay.
Letting go was harder than holding on. The ability to drop, sink, fall... was a stronger and more powerful moment, in her opinion, than any fight to remain in control.

If she could, she would have placed her hands on his thighs, to take delight in the feeling of them flexing and twitching against her palms. She loved feeling his muscles move under his skin, when they fucked. There was a sculpted quality of something hard, under his skin, that she loved to dig her nails into. She delighted in feeling the contrasting sensations of give and resistance, when he flexed and moved.
Brooklyn would have shook the hand of Erskine herself, if she could, for making Steve like he was.

Although, honestly it would have been nice if they had managed to make his brain better while they were working on his body.

Her mouth grew wetter, from both the pre-cum he was... leaking was not the word, not anymore. It was more than leaking... streaming was close. It wasn't full ejaculation, at least not yet. But he was close enough it was that weird spot before... when he wasn't able to keep a tight reign on his body's responses, anymore.

It was a moment in time that was pure pride for Brooklyn. Bringing this man to this point... to where he could no longer control his lust for her, it was something that filled her with joy and pride. It allowed her to sink more into her own body's responses, the moans and whimpers leaving her with more frequency.
"Shit." He hissed, his hand's grip growing harder on her head. "Fuck, Brooklyn.... already about to fucking cum in your throat... gonna do it, Babydoll....So fucking good...."

She looked up at him, delighting in the look on his face and in his eyes. She ignored the fluids leaking out over her chin, feeling it drip on her chest.

Sex was messy, after all.

She kept her focus on his face, watching the twitches, the lines, the shadows, waiting for that epic moment when he would snap, and his body would release all the tension in a torrent that she would be able to swallow down easily.
And he did it, with a gasp, a groan, and a long litany of cuss words and degradation statements aimed at her, he went from streaming pre-cum, to flooding her mouth and throat with it. She held back the cry that wanted to escape, swallowing as fast as she could, making sure to push his cock as far back as she could, until she sensed the bulk of it was over, pulling back enough to savor his ejaculation as it ebbed.
As soon as that was over, she cleaned him with her tongue, being gentle with her sucks and licks, not wanting to overstimulate him. His hands loosened on her head, going from gripping to stroking.
"There's my girl." He praised. "My good girl. My good Babydoll. Such a good little cocksucker."
She grinned, pulling back with one last suck, feeling the cooling of the fluids on her skin. "I am glad I pleased you, Sir."
"More than, Babydoll." He nodded, giving her a lazy grin, before reaching down with a hand to stroke his cock, keeping it from drooping. "I think you've earned more than just your spanking. I think you've earned one hell of a reward."
The fuzzy pants she was wearing were done for. That was it. She was soaking through them, even now. She was surprised that she wasn't leaving wet spots on the floor beneath her, with as wet as she was.
Steve stepped back, looking down at her. "On your chest, hips up. You're gonna take your spanking like the good girl I know you are. You are not going to disappoint me, Babydoll. Are you?"
She shook her head, grinning, as she obeyed, dropping until she had to turn her head to make sure she was as far down as possible. Exhaling slowly, she let herself relax, pushing her ass up, so he had easier access to it. He moved, going to kneel behind her, his hands grabbing the back of her fuzzy pants, pulling them down over her hips, pushing them down to her knees. He helped her lift her legs, one at a time, to pull them on, leaving her naked, the insides of her thighs wet from how much she had leaked.
"So fucking beautiful, Brooklyn." He breathed, reaching out to cup one of her buttocks, giving it a squeeze. "My fucking wife. Mine."
She let the sound leave her. A combination moan and whimper. His praise was like a shot of that alcohol she had tried at the party in the Tower, before everything had exploded. Asgardian alcohol. The buzzy feeling, the way it muffled her brain... that was less powerful than Steve praising her when she was pleasing him.

Even as she was sinking into the joy of knowing she was pleasing him, he brought the flat of his hand down on her ass sharply, the shock of it and the pain of it jolting her slightly out of her headspace.
"One, Sir." She said, automatically. "Thank you."
"How many, Babydoll?" He asked, rubbing where his hand had landed.
"Ten, Sir." She reminded him. At least, that was the number he had thrown out last, wasn't it? That muzzy feeling in her head may be making her mess up... and if it was, she was actually in for more, plus added for the mess up. He had told her ten, right?
"I never gave you a number." He told her softly, bringing his hand down on her again. "In fact, I think you started sucking my cock, before we could discuss numbers. So, do I give you just the ten, or add ten more, because you were being presumptuous?"

"Two, Sir." She gasped, arching into it, feeling the pain bloom. "Thank you, Sir. Whatever you desire, Sir. I am yours to do with what you want."

"Good answer." He chuckled, pinching the point of pain. "Very good answer. It leaves it in my hand, while also letting me know of your acknowledgment of my ownership. Someone's been brushing up. Reading again?"
She nodded, grinning. "I only wish to please you, Sir. As your playmate. As your lover. As your wife."

He groaned, leaning heavily over her, letting the heat of his body soak into hers. "Christ, Brooklyn.... perfect fucking answer. How about ten to start... and then we'll see how we feel afterwards?"
"Yes, Sir." So, eight to go. Possibly more. She could handle that. "Please, Sir."
He lifted off of her, before she heard him shifting on his knees, before another swat landed, this one harder than the previous two, combined.
"Three, Sir!" She cried, gasping for breath. "Thank you, Sir!"
And so it continued, each smack being counted, each one a welcome shock of pain. He would pause between each strike, either rubbing or pinching, depending on his mood. He was careful, never landing in the same place twice, making sure the pain spread out correctly, which also ensured there would be no long lasting effects in the morning. She appreciated that care, recognizing it for what it was, even as she reveled in the pain.
Her clit was throbbing in time with the pain of her backside. The wetness she was secreting was leaking down her legs. Her nipples, hardened from the arousal flooding her, were rubbing against the floor of the RV, as her body moved with his strikes. Her knees were aching slightly, from being on the floor for so long.

And she could still taste his last orgasm on her tongue.

With the last strike, he was panting. She could hear it over the pounding of the rain on the RV, over the howling of the wind, and the creaking of the trees around them. It was the loudest sound she could hear, and she focused on it.
"Such a good girl." he praised her, rubbing her backside. "Always such a good girl for me. Do you need more? Or are you good."
"I'm good." She nodded, taking a deep breath. "I ache, though."

"I know you do, Babydoll." He soothed, shifting, removing his hands from her backside. She heard him let out a low moan, then felt the head of his cock stroke her pussy lips. "I'm going to make it stop. I'll stop the ache."
He stroked the head against her pussy for a moment, then dug it in deeper, placing it at the entrance of her pussy. His hand landed on her hip, before he pulled her back, slowly parting her and sliding into the warmth she was offering him. She felt his groan through the connection of their bodies, as well as felt it. His hips pressed up against her still stinging backside, and she sighed.
"So good..." She murmured, sinking back into the space where feelings and sensations ruled. "So fucking good, Steve...."
"Yeah..." He sighed, his fingers on her hip flexing. "Always so fucking good, Babydoll... that's cause it's us...."

She hummed her agreement, before shifting slightly, sighing as the feeling increased. God, it was like she could feel him all through her. This was how sex was described in the books and novels, in movies and songs. That all encompassing feeling, where she couldn't tell where he began and she ended. One body, and possibly, if she had believed in that sort of thing, one soul. Love and sex, combined in one act.

Steve began a gentle rocking, sliding himself in and out of her, his breathing tipping over from resting to slightly exerted. His fingers dug into her hip, while his other hand slid along her back to grab her shoulder. "Nice and easy, Babydoll. Nice and easy. We're gonna.."
She bit her lip slightly to keep a giggle from leaving her, as she concentrated, tightening the internal muscles of her cunt on his cock, wrangling a groan from him, causing him to punch his hips hard into hers, before he paused.
"No." He warned her. "No, we aren't going to-"
She did it again, and the groan that left him was longer and deeper.
"Goddammit..." He cursed, before a rough sigh left him, and he began to actually thrust. "Why do you have to do this to me? Huh? Every damn time..."
The giggle left her. She couldn't help it. It was a soft one, a quick one, but one nonetheless.

"Oh." He snorted, driving into her harder. "I see. I've been to nice to you, is that it? Is that why you are having a hard time remembering the last time I gave you a good..." THRUST. "Hard." THRUST. "Fucking?"
He fell silent, pounding into her, using his grip on her hip to pull her back into him, the slap of their bodies hitting a wonderful sound to her.

"I enjoy..." she cut herself off with a slow inhale as he seemed to press deeper. "I enjoy the soft sex... I do... but I miss you fucking me like I'm just... someone... That you don't care about."
"You want me to fuck you like a little whore, again?" He panted, never missing a stroke. "Is that what my little Babydoll wants?"
"Yes....." She moaned, "Just like that."

He moved his hand from her shoulder, grabbing the cuffs on her wrists, tugging them up, still moving inside of her. The pressure on her shoulders, as he used them to lift her chest up off the floor, that ache, added to the overall encompassing pleasure running through her like little jolts of electricity.
"Fuck... yes, please.... Steve..." She cried, trying to bounce back into his thrusts, to take him deeper.
"Shit..." He hissed, leaning back, pulling her with him. He let go of her wrists, wrapping that arm around her body, holding her close. She ended up being able to bounce on him, braced on her knees, until he pulled back further, shifting, laying on his back. She arched, her head digging into his chest, as he basically removed her ability to move properly. The position was straining, but he began to push up into her, almost feeling like he was stabbing into her body with his cock, and she gasped, trying to inhale, even as the position seemed to inhibit her ability to breath. "Fucking perfection, Babydoll..."
It snuck up on her. She was so focused on his body, that she ignored hers. But it had not ignored what was happening to it.
Grinding her head into his chest, she let out a sharp cry, as her body convulsed, orgasm smacking into her.
"Fuck!" He swore, pausing his thrusts, pressing high up into her, groaning as she felt herself throb. "Oh, fuck!"

He rolled them over, and she ended up on her front again, his hands coming down near her head, as he began to pummel his hips against her backside. Brooklyn spread her legs as much as she could, while also tilting up her hips to receive him. The familiar dull pain began, low in her belly, and she pressed her forehead against the floor, moaning, her voice broken by the force of his thrusts.
"Yesss....." She let out, the echoing pleasure of her orgasm receding, only to begin to build back up again. "Ooooh... yess....."

"Fucking little whore...." He hissed over her. "Gonna cum on my cock again, huh? Yeah... I can tell... little cum slut.... Fuck..."
He dropped to his elbows, bending his head, panting in her ear, his lips brushing it.
"Such a little whore... loving my cock in your cunt like this..." He panted. "You're gonna have to cum again... aren't ya...."

She tried to nod her head, a whimper leaving her. She did need to cum again. Her body was on fire. Ice chased it, to be followed by sparks. The cycle repeated, again and again. Tighter, and tighter. Higher and higher. Until it finally came to a head. The cycle of sensations became overwhelming, bursting through her. Shaking her, lifting her, dropping her. Like the storm outside, it buffeted her, tossing her to and fro, whipping the pleasure within her as surely as the trees were being whipped by the wind and rain.

"Oh, FUCK!" She cried, lifting her head, arching her neck back. "Fuck! Oh, Fuck!"

Steve let out a low guttural bellow, his body stilling against hers, heat flooding her where his cock was pressed into her. He half collapsed on her, his teeth finding her shoulder, his arms sliding under her chest, lifting her against him, seeming to shake her against his body, as he pressed as far into her as he possibly could. She approved of this, trying to press back against him.
This was the moment when she began to float.
All thoughts left her head.
All sight left her.
She existed, and ceased to exist.
She breathed, and she drowned.

All in one moment.

Mewling, she sank back into her body, feeling the tingle in her fingers and toes. The heaving breaths of her husband's chest against her back. The pulsing thumps of his cock inside her. His hands both rough and gentle against her skin. The sent of their intimacy rising up between them. The soaking wetness of their mating between her legs.

"Fuck, I love you." He panted, kissing where he had sunk his teeth into her skin. "Every fucking moment, of every fucking day. You are... everything, Brooklyn."
She felt the corner of her mouth move in a half smile. "It's the same for me. I love you."

Kissing her skin again, he groaned, lifting up off her, the movement making him shift inside of her as he gently helped her lay down again. His hand went to the cuffs around her wrists, releasing them, and she exhaled as the pressure on her arms released. Bringing them down onto the floor, she shrugged her shoulders, before moving a knee up to help lift herself up off the floor.
"And now.. I need to clean up before dinner." She laughed.

"Ah, well." He chuckled. "Such is married life."

She whimpered as he pulled his cock out of her, sad that they had to part. But she had yet to figure out how to meld their flesh permanently. Until then, they would always remain separate, except for during sexual activity.
"I felt that since you got me off twice, the least I could do was return the favor." He told her, helping her up to her feet from his kneeling position, before moving to pull his sweats up. He had lost his shirt somewhere through their activities. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her lower belly. "And you did so beautifully, during your spanking."
She reached down, cupping the back of his head with both hands, suggesting. "Maybe we can have another go, after dinner. I did see that rope in the play box."

"There is an idea." He agreed, nodding, kissing her stomach, before standing up, kissing her mouth when he was on his feet. "But first, I need to feed you... food this time."
"Oh, I don't know. I think I got a pretty protein packed feeding already." She joked, smiling.

"Yeah. You did." He grinned back. "But not enough to live on."
He tapped her nose, kissing her again, before taking her wrist in his hands, removing the last cuff, handing them to her when he was done.
"I'm going to finish the soup. We'll eat... watch a movie, and then... we'll go for round two." He told her. "But... you better get dressed, or we aren't going to get anything done."

She nodded, moving to head to the back of the RV. "Are you still worried about the storm?" She asked, over her shoulder, as she bent to put the cuffs back into their play box.
"What storm?" He asked, washing his hands in the kitchen sink, drying them, and then throwing the towel over his shoulder. He resumed the heat under the soup, going back to cooking. "I didn't notice a storm."
She smiled, as she moved around the bed to get to the bathroom, the sounds of his cooking, the movie still going, and the running water of the sink as she turned it on drowned out the sound of the summer storm around them.
It didn't matter anyhow.
It couldn't touch them, here in their cozy little world, safe and warm with each other.

A/n: Hi! I have nothing to add, really. Have a good week? Do good works? Stop and ask yourself what would Steve Rogers do? Maybe not do that. Bad idea. He... might do something extreme. How about.... vote and comment?