Clint really didn't mean to but he had to take his mouth of her at her response, for his breath caught in his throat. Shit, shit, shit, and if he didn't think of the most unerotic place he had ever been his life, he'd come in his pants without even touching himself.

"You're killing me, Tasha", he groaned against her leg, resting his chin there for a moment, panting heavily.
Just as carefully as he had entered her, he withdrew his fingers, teasingly circling and scissoring them to let her know he was far from done with her. He just needed a moment to find his control back. Which didn't stop him from keeping on caressing her soaking wet folds, while his lips were busy nibbling the already reddened inside of her thigh.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

He knew it had to sound stupid but he just had to go sure before he went into this any further... And he would definitely explode right here and now if he let these pictures play further on his mind. It didn't help at all remembering how fucking good she had just felt, squeezing and trembling around his fingers and...

With a groan, he brought his hand down to his pants and grabbed the base of his rock hard cock tightly, hissing with the strain of too much heat, too much pressure.