Clint's answer to Natasha's last, most colorful encouragement wasn't half as coherent. He was too busy concentrating on the necessary muscle control to keep them where they were.

His legs threatened to give in for a moment when Natasha pressed herself against him so tightly, the waves of her climax working him so perfectly inside of her that he was certain, the top of his head would come off. It wasn't enough, not quite, but he really didn't care, because it was hot as fuck. He held Natasha close to him with his hand firmly against her ass, coaxing her through her orgasm with more of these small, careful thrusts of his finger until she went limb against him.

Her body felt hot, trembling, caught up in her lust completely while she gave herself over to him so much, trusting in him to take care of her... And holy shit, he had just made her come in the middle of the ocean. Admittedly, he liked that thought, he loved it how she looked satisfied - at least for the moment - and blissed out, and that more than made up for something like an open ending. Plenty of time tonight.

Carefully pulling back his hand, he wrapped both his arms securely around her waist again, still panting and swallowing down moans, and carefully lifted her off him, lifting her body higher against his, so he could put his clothing back where it belonged. And escape stimulation that wouldn't have made things easier right now.

The new position also had her beautiful cleavage on a very comfortable level, and he couldn't resist placing a few small kisses on her curves. But he pulled back quickly then, or this would never end. And they shouldn't play on their luck of not being seen much longer.

With a deep, shaky sigh, he leaned his head back to look up at her, with a smile slightly dizzy around the edges.

"You're unbelievable, you know."