Rumlow was still tight around him, but filthy wet too, sloppy with come and slickness, making it easy to fuck him. The asset's hips pistoned like a machine, hands bruising the man's thighs as his fingers dug into the strong muscles, pushing his legs down towards his chest, nearly bending him in two as he fucked him in hard, savage strokes. Pleasure worked low growls from the asset's throat again and again as he stared unblinking at his omega's face, Rumlow's expression fixed and straining as though he were fighting with all his strength not to give in. The asset knew that he would. He would break over and over, as many times as the asset desired to have him. It wasn't only the physical pleasure that brought those contented rumblings from his throat, it was also the pleasure of dominating his mate, having Rumlow thoroughly as his own.

His head thrown back was an unholy temptation, throat sweet with scent that drew the asset down to nose and mouth at it while the instinct to bite pulled at him ever stronger. Even in the depths of mating the asset understood all the reasons he should not, but his teeth bared, hovering over fragile skin, and frustration mounted; he snarled at Rumlow, faulting him for the temptation, for baring his throat and daring his alpha to bite.

His hips slammed into him viciously, thick cock plunging deep over and over, opening him, punishing him, and with another snarl the asset suddenly bit down on the muscle of Rumlow's shoulder: bruising flesh, breaking it, marking him irrevocably, the only saving grace being that it was a place that would stay hidden under clothing and gear.