Here in the sun, in the yard, with nothing around them for miles but trees and mountainside, she can cry out as ecstasy bursts through her. Her hands roam over his skin and up into his hair as she kisses him back, needy, addicted, lost in him. He's almost feral and she feels the same way, rocking up to meet him, curving her hands over him to press him more deeply into her with each thrust.

"Bucky," she begs, helpless. "Bucky, Bucky – "