Another moan escaped Clint's lips when Natasha started touching herself again, and for a moment he felt disappointed when she stopped immediately. He thought the he could probably watch her get herself off the whole night and not get bored.

But her next words, formed in that deep, seductive kind of order he loved so much, left his mouth dry and his blood boiling and he hurried to obey. His skin felt too hot, sweat pooling in the middle of his chest and on his forehead as he laid back. A soft groan rumbled in his chest from the sudden loss of friction against his rock hard cock. The rough fabric of the covers had left the skin reddened and sensitive, and God, he wanted her to touch him badly right now.

He withstood temptation to do that himself bravely and reached out to touch Natasha's thigh instead, his hand trembling softly from rising arousal. With his lower lip drawn between his teeth he watched her, anticipating whatever she was planning.

"All yours..."