It was good that Clint still had his hand close to his crotch, or he would have been gone the second she kissed him, devouring his mouth like there was no tomorrow.
Whenever this had turned from fantasy to the damn hottest setup he could imagine, he didn't know. When you had so little time to spend together, there wasn't much left for the extraordinary. There were nights of tenderness - many of them - and there were a few nights for games, and obviously this was one of the latter.
He didn't ask Natasha if she was sure. Why? They had both enjoyed it equally, however little far they had taken this particular practice in the past. That killing rough tone in her voice told him what he needed to know.
But he told her his way, what he thought of her wish, and of these deliciously wicked words from her lips. His tongue soon was battling with hers, probing her mouth with the rhythm of his fingertips that were back to stroking her lips and clit. With nothing but pleasure he leaned into her rough touch, letting her know she always had just as much control over him as she wanted it.
It took him a few long moments until the worst burn of threatening orgasm in his loins subsided. His hand was trembling around his straining cock, his breath somewhat between shallow panting and an embarrassing helpless groan. He would need a rain check on that plan to make her come with his mouth a few more times. His mind and body were struggling enough with the sheer realization how far Natasha was willing to go for him.
"Gotta give me a second, red." With a shaky laugh on his lips, he brought his hand back up to wipe his sweat stained forehead. Just shortly, he leaned back down for a quick, teasing lap over her engorged clit. "Stay right where you are, beautiful. I need... I don't want to hurt you."
At least a break gave him a chance to finally hand Natasha a blanket from the cabinet. The cool air against his naked arms left him shivering and helped him clear his head, though he longed back for the warmth and excitement of her touch immediately. Bathroom. Right.
A bottle with massage oil was something you probably found in every S.H.I.E.L.D.-agent's household. About that other thing he needed, he didn't know, though- and there was no way in hell he would proceed without. Not with her, not with someone whom he didn't want to be in even the slightest of pain. She had been through enough of that in her life. But he was lucky. He had actually kept that brand new, unopened cigar tube from some S.H.I.E.L.D. gala dinner- whoever of the authorities thought, a field agent wanted to blacken his lungs.
The thin stainless steel cylinder was perfect, though, and Clint was absolutely guilty to admit, it had played a part in his fantasies concerning Natasha before... Just the thought brought back the increasing lust at once. When he returned to the sofa with both bottle and tube, he felt dizzy from all the heat, the whole exotic freshness of the game.
He also was a good deal high on feelings, as soon as he saw her lying there, waiting for him. Waiting for adventure and passion, like they both wouldn't be who they were, like nothing counted in their lives but what was between them. In such moments Clint sometimes could believe it.
Despite of his achingly growing need, he just had to lay back down next to her for a moment, to lean over her and kiss her again. Passionately, demandingly, just like she had kissed him before, his fingertips tenderly caressing her reddened cheeks.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2013-10-08 06:24 pm (UTC)From:Whenever this had turned from fantasy to the damn hottest setup he could imagine, he didn't know. When you had so little time to spend together, there wasn't much left for the extraordinary. There were nights of tenderness - many of them - and there were a few nights for games, and obviously this was one of the latter.
He didn't ask Natasha if she was sure. Why? They had both enjoyed it equally, however little far they had taken this particular practice in the past. That killing rough tone in her voice told him what he needed to know.
But he told her his way, what he thought of her wish, and of these deliciously wicked words from her lips. His tongue soon was battling with hers, probing her mouth with the rhythm of his fingertips that were back to stroking her lips and clit. With nothing but pleasure he leaned into her rough touch, letting her know she always had just as much control over him as she wanted it.
It took him a few long moments until the worst burn of threatening orgasm in his loins subsided. His hand was trembling around his straining cock, his breath somewhat between shallow panting and an embarrassing helpless groan. He would need a rain check on that plan to make her come with his mouth a few more times. His mind and body were struggling enough with the sheer realization how far Natasha was willing to go for him.
"Gotta give me a second, red."
With a shaky laugh on his lips, he brought his hand back up to wipe his sweat stained forehead. Just shortly, he leaned back down for a quick, teasing lap over her engorged clit.
"Stay right where you are, beautiful. I need... I don't want to hurt you."
At least a break gave him a chance to finally hand Natasha a blanket from the cabinet. The cool air against his naked arms left him shivering and helped him clear his head, though he longed back for the warmth and excitement of her touch immediately.
Bathroom. Right.
A bottle with massage oil was something you probably found in every S.H.I.E.L.D.-agent's household. About that other thing he needed, he didn't know, though- and there was no way in hell he would proceed without. Not with her, not with someone whom he didn't want to be in even the slightest of pain. She had been through enough of that in her life.
But he was lucky. He had actually kept that brand new, unopened cigar tube from some S.H.I.E.L.D. gala dinner- whoever of the authorities thought, a field agent wanted to blacken his lungs.
The thin stainless steel cylinder was perfect, though, and Clint was absolutely guilty to admit, it had played a part in his fantasies concerning Natasha before...
Just the thought brought back the increasing lust at once. When he returned to the sofa with both bottle and tube, he felt dizzy from all the heat, the whole exotic freshness of the game.
He also was a good deal high on feelings, as soon as he saw her lying there, waiting for him. Waiting for adventure and passion, like they both wouldn't be who they were, like nothing counted in their lives but what was between them. In such moments Clint sometimes could believe it.
Despite of his achingly growing need, he just had to lay back down next to her for a moment, to lean over her and kiss her again. Passionately, demandingly, just like she had kissed him before, his fingertips tenderly caressing her reddened cheeks.
"You are unbelievable, you know."