CW: Fingering in public, exhibitionism, degradation kink, face slapping, choking, daddy kink. Comments like "I hate daddy kink" will be removed. If it's not your thing, that's fine, but it might be someone else's and kink shaming isn't cool.
As always, the Romanian is google translate and probably inaccurate. If you have a more accurate translation, feel free to send it my way!
JAMES
Peter stops the car in front of Providence while Dahlia swipes poppy red lipstick across her mouth, pursing her lips together in the mirror as she examines her reflection in her compact. She's perfect, elegant. Two years in and he's just as obsessed with her as the day he walked into that flower shop. He'll never get over how unbelievably stunning she is, how well she's adjusted to this world. But she still has so much to learn, and he has so much to teach her.
She's his Queen, his huntress, and she's the most important thing in the world to him. The fact that he can't tell her the full extent of his plans crushes him. But that's what tonight is for. He's naming the restaurant in the hotel after her. Dahlia's. He wants her and Wanda to design the entire thing from top to bottom. She would be incredible at it, she has a gift for it. Over the last two years, she's had to put that aside.
"Parker, we'll be a couple of hours at least. I'll call you when we need to be picked up." He pauses and smiles at Peter as he catches the young man's eye in the reflection of the rearview mirror. "Go and take MJ out for dinner."
James pulls out his phone and Venmo's Peter $5,000. Peter's phone dings and he gasps softly at the notification. He should be used to this by now. James likes to keep his employees happy and well-paid.
"Mr. Barnes, I couldn't—"
"You can and you will show that beautiful girl the best time. We'll see you later, Pete."
Peter is stammering a thank you as James steps out of the car first, opening her door for her and helping her step out. His arm instinctively winds around her waist.
"That was really sweet of you," Dahlia says softly. "Back there, with Peter."
His fingers interlock with hers. This is where he belongs, right beside her. He loves her so much it makes him feel fucking crazy. Every second he's without her is agony. As much as he loves power, there are days when he wishes he just burned this entire empire to the ground and the two of them took their money and ran off to a deserted island.
James shrugs.
"Yeah, well, maybe I am getting softer in my old age."
Dahlia chuckles. She's draped in shimmering gold fabric that cost him 25 grand, but she wears it so goddamn well. She's ethereal, and she only gets more beautiful as time goes by. As the two of them walk toward the restaurant, he smiles at her.
"You're beautiful," he says softly.
When she turns to him, his heart melts. Warm brown eyes, the same color as his favorite whiskey. His heart clenches in his chest and they stop in their tracks. James reaches out to stroke her cheek. She smiles.
"Tell me again."
"You're beautiful," he purrs. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life, Dahlia. You are the only thing I've ever wanted."
The ruby on her right hand glitters in the streetlight. She smiles, her eyes glistening. He could drown in them. He would drown in them.
"You and I both know that's not true."
"It is."
"You're a liar, James Barnes. You always have been."
Her tone is playful and he shakes his head. Two years ago, this would have incensed him. All she does is call his bluff now. She's right. He has two great loves in his life: Dahlia, and power. Money would be in there, but it's kind of wrapped up in the whole power thing. He cups her face in his hands.
"Tell me you love me."
Her eyes glitter, searching his face. Even after the lives she's taken and the icy persona she's cultivated to stay alive in this world, she's still the warmest thing James has ever seen. His thumb glides along her cheekbone, taking in her features. Those high, sculpted cheekbones, that little turned up nose, those full lips that he never wants to stop kissing.
"I love you," she breathes.
He can feel the grin on his face getting wider.
"I love you too."
They step inside the restaurant and the maître d' wastes no time bringing them to their table. He's a younger man with slicked back dark hair and dark brown eyes, dressed in a crisp black suit. Tom Ford. James recognizes it immediately. He has two of the same in his closet, one in black, and one in charcoal gray.
James reserved a spot in the back so that he could have a full view of the restaurant, just in case. He never knows who's going to walk through those doors, and who has a vendetta against him. Ivan's words lay buried beneath him like a landmine. He talked a big game, but James saw something in Vanko's eye that made his heart skip a beat. He still can't tell if that asshole his bluffing.
Two years ago, Steve tried to take everything from him. James knows that if he hadn't stepped in, he would have taken Dahlia, too. Or worse, let them both go down for Rita and Wanda. The web of lies he had created ran so much deeper. Scott and Rebecca found contacts to hit men in rival low-level gangs in his email, money being funnelled to places and people that James had no idea existed.
He had been doing it for years. Laying the groundwork while keeping James close.
He also didn't know that Steve had killed eight other women over the course of their friendship. He left detailed journals about his macabre escapades: stalking, murder, dismemberment. It was how he got off. He was going to do the same thing to Wanda after he poisoned her.
And his plans for Dahlia were even worse.
James keeps them all in a safe. Just in case.
James has no idea just how deep that rabbit hole went, not really. Some stuff was cleaned up before Steve's death. James is still finding out just how much his best friend was betraying him, and he's been trying to crush that mutiny ever since. You don't get to the top without making enemies, not in this world. Vigilance is now a habit, and James is suspicious of everyone and everything new that crosses his path. He has to be. He can no longer afford to lose everything. When he was single, he was afraid to lose his power, his hotel, but now he has two godchildren to think about, Dahlia, Wanda, Thor... they're his family.
As the maître d' is getting ready to place the menus down, James claps him on the back and fishes his wallet out of his back pocket. The host turns around while Dahlia looks slightly confused. James, meanwhile, pulls out a thousand dollars and tucks it in the host's front pocket, leaning in.
"My wife and I are going to the bathroom. Could you get us a bottle of champagne, a bottle of Petrus, and make sure that we're not disturbed for... oh, ten minutes should be enough."
The host looks around nervously, and James grins. He can already sense the resistance.
"Mr. Barnes—"
"You're a gem... Charles." James looks down at his name tag and smiles, straightening it for him. "Or do you require another thousand dollars?"
The tone is menacing, his gaze hardened, fixed on Charles's face that turns red while Dahlia stands beside James, clearly amused. People are beginning to turn around. It's fascinating how quickly people shift their focus in a restaurant when someone stands for just a little bit too long who doesn't work there, or does something that steps outside of the status quo. James finds human nature fascinating at its core, even if most of it pisses him off.
In his younger days, he would have flashed a weapon, but now he doesn't have to. Everyone here knows who he is— who they are. So long as he keeps the peace and pays his bill, plus a generous tip, he owns this restaurant.
Charles nods quickly.
"We'll bring your wine right away, sir."
"Good man." James pats the man on the shoulder, turning to Dahlia. "That's why I come here, you know. The service is impeccable."
He takes her hand and guides her toward the back of the restaurant, leaving Charles in the metaphorical dust. Dahlia giggles as she walks behind him.
"What are you doing?"
"I owe you some quality time."
"In the bathroom of Providence?"
He grins and drags her inside one of the bathrooms, locking it behind her. James cages her in with his arms, pressing her up against the doorway. She smirks.
"Are you still riding that high from killing Ivan?"
"I'm still riding that high from fucking you like an animal," he purrs as he begins to drag his lips along her jawline. "That and I owe you."
Her eyes sparkle, dancing across his face.
"Owe me what?"
"I left you alone. For two weeks. That wasn't very nice of me."
Dahlia swipes her tongue across her lip and James can't help but lean forward and nip at it. She giggles.
"No, it wasn't."
"My Queen deserves the most expensive meal in Los Angeles, and another present."
Her cheeks redden, pupils blown out.
"More presents?"
He pulls out a pair of crotchless panties from his pocket, letting the fabric dangle from his fingertip. James bought these in Moscow— actually, he bought her two pairs of them. She has more, but most of them were cut by him and his knife. These ones are a little sturdier.
"Wear these for me."
Dahlia bites that perfect bottom lip and he nearly combusts just watching her. Her eyes meet his as she reaches up, gently running the fabric through her fingers. She's the only person who makes his fucking heart rate spike. Her other hand gently grasps the lapel of his suit jacket, pulling him toward her.
"Mr. Barnes, we're in public. You bad boy."
"Yeah," he whispers, leaning over as she grasps the lace. "I am. And I've been wanting to put that little spark back into our marriage. Remember when I brought you here and made you come in front of everyone?"
"Uh-huh."
"You were such a good girl for me that day, weren't you?"
"Yes."
James smiles, dipping his head to nip at her neck.
"Let's do that again." As she plucks the lace from his hand, James leans in and sucks on her neck. "Mi-ai fost dor de tine, piersică."
I've missed you, peach.
"I've missed us," she moans.
The vulnerability of the statement catches him off guard. He loves her so fucking much, but things aren't like they used to be. Dahlia has just been afraid to broach the subject, but he can tell by the way she looks at him that she needs more from him. He's been trying to step up, to be a better husband, but this work is demanding to say the least. She understands, but Yelena told him to make sure that Dahlia knew just how much he loved her, and not just with gifts, but with quality time. He wants to try, he has to try.
He cannot lose her.
"Me too."
His mouth presses against hers, and he picks her up off of the ground. Her legs wind around his waist as he stumbles backward, heading in the direction of the bathroom counter. James has to open his eyes for a moment as he turns around. Dahlia's arms have wound around the back of his neck and he places her on the counter as he breaks the kiss. James plucks the panties from her hand and slowly drops down to one knee. Dahlia tilts her head, staring at him as she pushes his hair back. James places soft kisses up and down her bare legs, legs that were wobbling for him not even an hour ago.
"I remember the day I walked into that flower shop..." He presses more kisses up and down her skin. She's so fucking soft. She makes him want to be softer, to be better. "God, you were the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen in my fucking life. I was obsessed with you."
"I was afraid of you."
"I know," James purrs, smiling against the inside of her calf as he worked his way up. He feels sparks on her skin. "I liked it."
She pushes his head back, spreading her legs just a little wider. James picked a short dress on purpose. His hands slide up her thighs and he worked his way up, higher and higher until he's right where he wants to be, buried in that gorgeous pussy. She's not wearing underwear, at his request. James gently glides his fingers through her folds and her breath hitches. She's already wet. Exactly how he wants her.
"Are you gonna make me come, daddy?" She moans, her hips already rolling toward him.
Dahlia Barnes loves a man on his fucking knees. He chuckles. He has a hell of a lot planned for her tonight. This is just the beginning. James moves his fingers and presses a gentle kiss to her quickly swelling clit. She's glistening for him, and he wants to work her up. He wants to make her fucking mad, so that when he makes her come in front of the entire restaurant, she's begging him to fuck her.
Gently, he sucks on her clit and she pulls on his hair.
"Fuck," she breathes. "James..."
He works her up, wrapping his lips around her clit, tasting her. She's so fucking sweet. He can feel himself getting harder and harder, but he resists the urge to get to his feet and fuck her over the bathroom counter. Her soft moans begin to fill the room and James reaches down, squeezing the bulge in his pants.
He's never been great at withholding, even from himself. Not like this, and not when it comes to her.
James releases her and pulls away as Dahlia pants, staring at him. She still has a light grip on his hair as he smiles at her, wiping her slick off of his mouth and licking his fingers.
"You think I'm gonna fuck you in this bathroom, huh?"
"I think you're fucking hard, and you can't help yourself." She licks her lips and smiles at him.
James chuckles, sliding the panties up one leg. Dahlia catches wind of what he's doing and legs him put them around her other ankle. Slowly, he gets to his feet as he slides them up her legs.
"You're going to wear these for me, and you're going to soak them all the way through. I don't want to feel an inch of dry lace while I finger you through dinner. While everybody's around, and nobody knows you're coming for me." Her legs tremble as he warms up her thighs with his hands. "Now, be a good girl and lift those hips for me— that's it, peach."
She doesn't say a word, but there's lightning in her eyes and she breathes deep. James spreads her legs and pushes her dress up, making sure that the hole in the panties is exactly where he wants it. Dahlia reaches out, running her fingers over the bulge in his pants. He can see her nipples hardening through her dress. She bites down on her lip. Again. It drives him fucking crazy.
"It would be so easy just to unzip your pants, pull your cock out, and fuck me." She pauses, fingernail tucked right beneath the button of his pants. "Right here."
He chuckles, reaching out to grip her chin. She's become so defiant. Bratty. He loves every second of it. Dahlia is the only woman who knows exactly how to challenge him. She's submissive while being powerful. It's clear when he looks in her eyes who's really in charge in this exchange.
Both of them like it that way.
"And spoil the appetite I'm going to work up for you?"
Her fingers work the button on his pants, and then the zipper as she maintains direct eye contact and pulls out his cock. The tip is already dripping precum.
"Looks like you might not be able to wait until dinner."
"You insubordinate little bitch," he growls, stepping toward her as she leans back on one hand and guides his cock at just the right angle. The second the tip glides through her dripping folds, he's done for. She moans, her voice raspy and caught in her throat.
Dahlia moves her hips first, forcing his cock inside of her. She gasps and James grins, his hand wrapping around her throat, squeezing as tightly as possible.
"You just can't get follow directions, can you?"
"I feel like being a bad girl tonight."
"You do, do you?"
"I feel like making you punish me."
He groans as he bottoms out, and then slowly pushes his hips back, pulling almost all the way out. Her mouth drops open and a beautiful, musical moan drips from those poppy red lips. Her voice sounds like what James imagines the moon would if it could speak. His breath hitches in his chest and for a second, he considers just giving in to the idea, but he wants to torture her a little. Just a little. She's going to come all over his fingers.
Again.
And again.
And again.
"Maybe I should just fuck you. Slow. Just like this."
"Yes," she whispers. "Fuck, that's what I want. Give it to me."
"You're a fucking whore for me, aren't you?" She whimpers and he strikes her hard across the face. "Say it."
Dahlia whimpers as her head snaps to the left. James's hand wraps around her throat again as he watches a vicious and malicious smile spread across those lips he loves so much. She turns back to him. His hips refuse to move faster and her cunt clenches around him. He's using every inch of self-control he has at this point.
"Tell me, peach."
Her eyes are nearly black, like a shark's, that vicious grin lingering like a shadow as she lets out another throaty groan.
"I'm a fucking whore for you."
He snarls and suddenly, a sharp knock at the door causes her breath to hitch, but James doesn't bat an eyelash. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his long hair has fallen in his face, the vein in his neck pulses as he struggles to control himself. His eyes are nearly as dark as hers. All he can see is a rim of electric blue around a sea of black.
"You want them to walk in?" He grunts. "Want them to watch me fuck you? Choke you? Spit on that pretty little face?"
She can't seem to contain the smile on her face.
"Yes."
Another sharp knock.
"Yeah!" James calls, his eyes fixed on Dahlia's. She looks so goddamn beautiful, her cheeks blazing, and her chest heaving as he drives his cock deeper and deeper inside of her. He can tell he's hitting her G-spot by the way her head rolls back.
"Mr. Barnes, there's someone here to see you," Charles replies.
"Who?"
"A Chief Helmut Zemo?"
James hangs his head, still buried inside of her, caught between fury and pleasure.
"What the fuck is he doing here?" Dahlia asks as she wraps her hand around the back of his neck and he keeps fucking her. Her hips roll to meet his and he groans against her mouth as their lips collide again. "Did he follow us?"
"I don't know."
She breaks the kiss and stares up at him.
"James, tell me the truth."
"I am telling you the truth. I don't fucking know, Dahlia. I put these reservations in before I left for Moscow. That must be how he knew where to find me."
It occurs to James that he's still fucking her, her cunt is still pulsing around him. His heart is still pounding, and she's still clinging to him like a life raft. She stares up at him, those gorgeous eyes sparkling like the night sky.
"He's watching you?"
"I guess so," James groans.
Another knock. He ignores it and kisses her, his tongue diving into her mouth as he fucks her deeper. The sociopathic giggle that escapes her throat makes him smile in return. She's perfect for him in every possible way. He didn't make her, she already had the blueprint. Mommy issues, a family that had crumbled entirely, all James had to do was give her a push in the right direction.
"I'm gonna come," she whines.
He pulls out of her and Dahlia snarls, unwinding her arms to strike him across the face as there's another knock at the door.
"HANG ON!" James bellows.
Dahlia recoils, eyes wide.
"Sir, I'm so—"
He grasps her by the chin, squeezing tightly, a malicious grin creeping across his face that Dahlia matches instantly once she realizes that she's not really in any trouble.
"No, you aren't. And you're not coming until daddy lets you. And I think you should do it right in front of the Chief of Police." She giggles and James gently pushes a strand of hair away from her face. "Let's give that pig a fuckin' show, hmm?"
She giggles and nods as James tucks his cock back into his pants and zips them up. He lifts Dahlia off of the bathroom counter and helps her smooth out her dress and fix her curls for her. James kisses her temple.
"You look like Aphrodite."
"I was thinking Persephone," she replied.
A wicked grin flickered across his face.
"Good choice. My beautiful Queen of the Underworld."
He takes her hand and they step out of the bathroom, opening the door. Charles stumbles backward, his eyes wide, clearly flustered.
"Mr. Barnes, I'm sorry, but he— insisted that he speak with you."
James draws in a breath.
"No problem at all." He pats Charles on the shoulder as he and Dahlia walk right past him toward their table. James glances behind him and winked while Charles sighed with relief.
"They're all afraid of you," Dahlia breathes.
"That's the way I like it." His hand slips into hers as they approach the table. "Now, remember, you're a good girl for me, and you're going to soak those panties."
"Yes, sir," she breathes and looks up at him. "Thanks for taking me out for dinner."
He grins.
"Any time, my love."
As they approach the table, he spots Zemo standing in front of it dressed in a black suit, his blonde hair slicked back, and his beard neatly trimmed. The bottle of Petrus is cradled in his hand. He's examining it, as though he's never seen it before. James clears his throat and Zemo glances up. His eyes flash with malice before he plasters on that fake smile.
"Mr. Barnes." He turns to Dahlia. "Hello, Mrs. Barnes."
"Hello, Helmut."
"I'm so sorry to interrupt your dinner, Mr. Barnes," Zemo begins as Dahlia slides into the booth and James sits beside her. His hand instantly finds her thigh, sliding upward as Zemo puts the bottle of wine down.
"Would you care to join us, Helmut?" James asks. "My treat."
Zemo stares him down as James smiles. He won't take him up on the offer. He's not an idiot. James's first instinct is to worry about the wine, to see if Zemo put something in it. But that's residual paranoia. The Chief of Police wouldn't dare risk doing something so brazen in public. Zemo strikes James as man who attacks when provoked, and always under cover of darkness. They're very similar in many respects.
"I've already eaten."
One arm wraps around Dahlia's shoulder while his free hand slips beneath her skirt. She grabs the bottle of champagne and pours them two glasses, handing one to James.
"Not even a drink, Zemo?" She asks, ever brazen. The Queen he molded her into. "It's on the house."
"I'm on the clock today, Mrs. Barnes. But thank you."
James doesn't waste time. His fingers quickly find her clit and begin to make slow, small circles around it. It stiffens and swells beneath his touch and Dahlia leans back as she lifts her champagne glass to her lips. She's so fucking wet. He almost wishes he had finished fucking her in the bathroom. He can see the flush in her cheeks while Zemo's gaze falls upon James.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, then?" James asks.
"We're looking for Ivan Vanko, and what a surprise, we found connections to you."
Dahlia is soaked, just like he asked. She slowly rolls her hips upward, both of them concealed by the table and James continues to stroke her clit just the way she likes. She keeps calm, swallowing her champagne and setting the glass on the table while her thighs gently clench around his hand. He's far more focused on making her come than whatever drivel is about to come out of Zemo's mouth.
"Well, that would make sense. We had run-ins with his boss, Thanos, who was selling drugs on hotel property and attempting to extort my staff. Is that all in your little file, too?"
"Every word," Zemo replies. "You seem to know a lot of bad people, Mr. Barnes."
"Your entire department is corrupt as shit," James laughs. "You don't have a leg to stand on."
"Where is Vanko?"
"I don't know," James replies. He does. Vanko is lying somewhere on a beach with a calling card that's specific to Thanos's men. James tilts his head, sliding his fingers into Dahlia's cunt. She draws in a sharp breath and Zemo's eyes slide over to her.
"Mrs. Barnes?"
"Yes?" She rasps.
"Is there something you'd like to tell me?"
James curls his fingers, pushing up against her G-spot in an effort to make her break a little. He wants Zemo to watch just how much power he has. Because pretty soon, he's going to experience it for himself if he doesn't stay the fuck away from them. Dahlia's eyes flick upward, meeting his, and she smiles as she gently plays with the pristine white tablecloth.
"No, sir."
Rage flares in James's chest and he fucks her deeper with his fingers while she flutters around him. His thumb begins to circle her clit and he can see her breathe hitch in her chest. Her throat nearly quivers as she swallows another sip of champagne.
"I'm trying to have dinner with my wife, so if there's anything else—"
"I know what you're doing, Barnes. I just can't prove it yet." Zemo tilts his head. "I know you killed Thanos, I know you have something to do with Ivan Vanko's disappearance. I know you're probably hunting the rest of Thanos's crew. I have eyes on you."
"That is not a smart thing to threaten me with," James whispers, fucking Dahlia a little faster with his fingers. She covers her mouth with one hand, suppressing a moan with a cough as Zemo stares her down. James tilts his head. "Eyes on me, Helmut. I know my wife is beautiful, but I'm quite... protective of what's mine."
She's fucking drenched, soaking his fingers all the way down to his rings.
"I have the entirety of the LAPD on my side."
James smirks, anger blooming like fireworks in his chest.
"And I have friends in very low places, Helmut. But I'm assuming you already know that."
He has the urge to stand up, grab the steak knife that lays beside his plate and jam it right into Zemo's jugular, but he suppresses it. He wants to play this cat and mouse game a little while longer. He's going to have to come up with a strategy. If he could kill John Walker, he can kill Helmut Zemo.
But he wants to do it slowly. With purpose. He'll string Zemo along, toy with him, and when the time is right, James will strike. He and Sam just have to figure out who's going to replace him as Chief. It has to be someone stable, someone who can't be knocked down from power. James would do it, but he doesn't know the first thing about cops.
Aside from the fact that he fucking hates them.
James wants to know why Zemo took Rhodey's place so quickly. He tried to call Rhodey on his burner, but it's dead. Email is a bust, Zemo is probably monitoring it.
His fingers continue to stroke Dahlia's G-spot and he can feel her thighs trembling, her cunt quivering around him. Zemo seems to be none the wiser, staring him down.
"You don't scare me, Barnes."
"Famous last words," James hisses.
"Is that a threat? To the Chief of the Los Angeles Police Department?"
James grins as Dahlia's cheeks redden. She's so fucking close he can feel her. Sweat gathers between her thighs, mixing with the slick that's coating his fingers. He wants to take them out, put them in her mouth, and fuck her on this table like an animal. His cock throbs in his pants. James doesn't know how he's going to make it through dinner.
"It's whatever you want it to be," he replies casually. "If you want a battle, Helmut, I think it's ill advised, and unless you have something on me, I think you're really only here to harass a hard-working citizen of Los Angeles. I could sue your department for that."
Suddenly, Dahlia's fingernails sink into his thigh. Her cunt squeezes his fingers, and he feels her grow slicker.
"I'll find something, Mr. Barnes. Trust me on that."
"Goodbye, Helmut. Have a lovely evening."
Zemo snarls as he turns on heel and storms out of the restaurant. A few people look their way, and James offers a tight lipped, yet confident smile as he continues to fuck Dahlia with his fingers. She begins to whimper and he presses his lips to the shell of her ear.
"You were such a good girl for me. You wanna come all over my fingers?"
"Yes."
"Good girl. He almost caught you there. You almost gave us away."
"I'm sorry," she whimpers. "I'm sorry, sir. Please let me come."
Her voice is soft, almost airy, shattering like glass as she trembles. Her hand winds around the stem of the champagne flute and he can see how badly she wants to snap it in half. He'd like to see that, blood and champagne staining the beautiful ivory tablecloth.
James delivers punishing thrusts with his fingers as his thumb works desperate and quick circles around her clit and she buries her head in his shoulder as he wraps his arm tighter around her, kissing her temple. The tablecloth covers everything and people mill around the restaurant, lost in their own conversations. That's what he loves about rich people, they're too goddamn selfish to care about anything but themselves.
"Come for me, sweet thing. All over daddy's fingers— that's it."
She gives him one final squeeze before she whimpers into his shoulder, coming so hard that he feels her squirt— not a lot, just a little— over his fingers. He chuckles softly and hears her curse into the fabric of his jacket.
"God, you're an angel, aren't you?"
James slows his pace, his fingers covered in her arousal. He keeps the circles on her clit light and delicate as she lifts her head, her cheeks completely flushed, lips bitten red, and her eyes nearly brimming with tears. He smiles, kissing her softly.
"We're back, baby."
"Thank you," is all she can muster as his fingers come to a full stop.
"I just want to make you happy, my love."
He pulls out of her and she quickly glances around the restaurant, snatching his wrist and shoving his fingers into her mouth. James groans as Dahlia licks them clean, releasing them with a soft pop.
"I wanna suck your cock under the table."
He laughs.
"That might get us both blacklisted."
"You could buy this restaurant," she quips, reaching down to squeeze his cock. She's fucking feral. "I could climb onto your lap and fuck you in front of everyone. You own this city."
"That's something I wanted to talk to you about."
Dahlia stops and quirks a brow as she takes her compact out of her purse. He wants to tell her to stop, not to bother fixing her hair or her makeup. He likes her to look ruined. He even likes the lipstick that's slightly smeared beneath her bottom lip, and the way some of her foundation has rubbed off of her chin and onto his jacket.
Despite that, she gently powders her nose and chin before tousling her hair a little and fixing her lipstick.
"What do you mean talk to me about?" She asks
"You know that development in New York," he says softly.
She sighs.
"James, I don't want to talk about work." She turns to him. "I want this to be about us and renewing our vows."
He chuckles and steals a kiss.
"Listen, I know you're not thrilled about this development, but with Zemo on my ass, it's important to me that I— that we— expand our operations."
"You're only using that as an excuse now," Dahlia counters.
He smirks. God, he loves her. She calls him on his bullshit constantly. James sips his champagne and nods while Dahlia discreetly grabs a pack of wet wipes from her purse and cleans up her thighs. James takes it from her. He made her come, he should clean her up. Fair's fair.
"Okay, you're right," he whispers. "But I'd like to have some footing in New York, helps me keep tabs on Yelena."
"You don't trust her."
"Not particularly," he replies. "She wants me to replace three people on the Board of Directors."
Dahlia's eyes widen, filling with rage.
"I'm on the Board of Directors."
"I know," he breathes. "My love, I would never replace you."
"I'd kill you."
"I know that." A smile flickers across his face. She wouldn't, but he likes the slight venom in her eyes and the dangerous edge to her voice. It makes him harder. "I will not replace you, Dahlia. But I have to make some serious decisions, and I want your help in that."
"Who do you want to replace?"
"It's more like, I'm thinking about shifting things around. Thor is on the Board, he wants more time with the kids, but I don't want to give him less power, just less time in the office so that he can spend time with them. Other than that, I'm not sure. But Yelena says the clock is ticking and if I don't make a decision—"
"Let me talk to Kate," Dahlia assures him. "Maybe I can get her to tell Yelena to ease up."
"She wants fifty percent of the profits on the New York property."
Dahlia snarls.
"Are you insane making deals with her?! Where the fuck was I in this? I'm your fucking wife!"
He holds out a hand.
"Dahlia—"
"Don't Dahlia me. You made this deal with her—"
"While we were in Moscow," James cuts in. "I gave her the blueprints to the building, I want to name the restaurant after you, and I want you and Wanda to design it from top to bottom. Just like you did with In Bloom."
"So you make decisions behind my back and present it to me like it's a gift?"
He hangs his head. This is not the reaction he was hoping for.
"Dahlia..."
"You don't get to react like this way," she snaps. "From now on, everything we do is fifty fifty. Is that why you wanted to renew our vows? To shut me up?"
His eyes grow icy and white hot anger blooms in his chest.
"Of course not."
There's a long silence between the two of them. This is the first fight they've had in a while. He can see the hurt in her eyes, the betrayal. It makes him feel like shit. He really thought that he was doing what was best for the two of them. If she had been anyone else, James wouldn't think twice about going behind her back, but she's right: this is his wife. This is the woman he loves more than life itself. He's killed for her, and he would do it over and over again if it made her happy or kept her safe.
James reaches up, gently brushing her cheek with the backs of his knuckles.
"From now on, we do everything fifty-fifty. I promise."
"You'd better," she whispers. "I'm not your trophy wife."
"I know, and I'm sorry that I treated you like one. Dahlia, I would move mountains for you if I could. Hell, I might have enough money to actually do that." The smallest grin flickers across her lips and he knows he's getting somewhere. He hasn't solved the issue completely, but these are promises that he can keep. "You won't be removed from the Board of Directors. You can talk to Kate and see if Yelena will budge. And from here on out, you will be involved in every aspect of the New York project. I give you my word."
"And you're sorry for shutting me out."
"And I'm sorry for shutting you out," James repeats. He means it. Every word. "And you're coming with me on business trips from now on. That's non-negotiable."
She stares at him, nibbling at her bottom lip.
"Why did you hide all of this from me?"
He sighs.
"I guess, over the years, I've been used to doing all of the heavy lifting by myself. You've got the shop, and I didn't want you to have to worry about this shit. My job is to take care of you, Dahlia. It's what my father could never do for my mother. I vowed to be a better husband and a better man than he was. The last thing I want to do is burden you or hurt you." He pauses. "And I know that not letting you into this is hurting you."
"Yeah, it is."
He presses the tip of his nose to hers.
"I trust you. With everything. I want your name plastered everywhere in that new development. I want you to be my Queen."
She smiles.
"You know, in chess, the Queen is the most powerful piece." She toys with some of the buttons on his shirt. "It's not about her ability to move around the board any way she wants, it's about the sacrifices she's willing to make to protect the King. You do not have to do this by yourself, James. We're partners. You brought me into this world, and I deserve to be your equal. I can protect you."
His throat clenches, thinking back to that night when he watched her take that gun and fire a round into Steve's chest. No mercy, no remorse, just calculated rage. She protected him when he couldn't make the kill himself. He was weak. No matter how cold he prided himself on being, he was totally incapable of putting those bullets into his best friend.
But she could. Her anger at Steve ran deep.
James nods and grasps her right hand, bringing her brand new ring to his lips and kissing it.
"So long as you let me protect you too."
Dahlia laughs, her eyes lighting up.
"I don't think I could stop you from doing that," she breathes.
James beams, his heart soaring as she presses her forehead to his.
"I can't wait to marry you all over again."