There wasn't much regard in him for the discomfort of the position he'd forced Rumlow into--crushed between the uneven floor and his alpha's solid body, his cock locked so deep inside of him and swelled so thickly that it had to make it hard to breathe. He had little regard for Rumlow's own orgasm, whether he came or not with his own cock trapped underneath his belly and chafed by the coarse material of the his remaining clothes--he always did--or when the continued stimulation that kept Rumlow's hole clenching rhythmically on his cock, milking his seed, would begin to be too much. He remembered--no, that was wrong, the asset didn't remember things, but there was a shadow, a ghost of a dark-haired boy, struggling and crying and weak, his body used long beyond any bearing, and the soldier gentle, protective, holding him close--or that had been another mate--another--

The asset fucked into him, and every thrust spilled another generous quantity of come into him, brought with it an all-consuming pleasure and satiation. He slid his fingers slowly in and out of Rumlow's open mouth as it made its sweet erotic sounds, its omega moans and pleas, stroking over his tongue and pressing down firm enough to refuse him the ability to form words. After a while he shifted enough that his knees were cradled around Rumlow's legs, helping to support his weight, and his right forearm pillowed under his cheek. That was only to be expected. After the first brutal mating, after the necessity of proving his dominance, the asset became protective, nearly tender with his mate, as though some shred of humanity remained from all that had been torn out of him long ago.

He nuzzled at the nape of Rumlow's neck, licking and grazing with his teeth; even though he wouldn't bite, not this time, that vulnerable place was irresistible to him while he was still coming.