Every touch, every word, just pushed her further into ecstasy. Clint knew exactly what to say, how to say it; he knew where to touch her, and how. In moments like these Natasha almost wondered if he knew her body better than she even did; he certainly knew exactly what she needed.

Pushing back against his finger, then pressing her hips against his again, she buried her face in his throat and moaned at the increased pleasure before repeating the motion. Bringing her lips to his ear she started muttering in Russian between almost painful nips, one hand sliding down beneath the band of his shorts to dig her fingers just lightly into the soft flesh of his ass. She could feel her climax approaching already, brought on by so much stimulus at once, and squeezed his cheek harder, wanting to take him over with her.