russianchildatprayer | What's left of us (for broken

What's left of us (for broken_arrow)

The fire is spreading fast. The gamemaker wastes no time blowing up his arena, now that the winner stands.

She should be in the elevator already. The heat is unbearable, scorching the small hair of her arms where her uniform has torn, and stinging in countless ulcerous open wounds.

This one will scar.

There is no reason to linger. The other four are dead, she’s made very sure of that. Some put up a fight and suffered more than she would have wanted. But by now they all made it. They’re all relieved off what Dreykov still politely likes to call life.

All but one.

She could still end it. Her guns have drowned in that acid pool on the first day already and her last knife is stuck to the hilt in his liver. She can’t near him again if she doesn’t want to end up like him after all. But there’s enough rocks around. Worst case, she’ll burn her fingers while smashing his skull, before he has to suffer much worse pain.

The thick iron of the artificial walls, the faded layers of grass bred miles under the surface, just for this one purpose of yet another natural selection for Dreykov’s likes… All is glowing with the flames closing in around her. She can feel the hairs on her neck rise, smoking from the heat.

Still she keeps the door of the elevator open with her good arm, refusing to let it carry her to safety, to care, to the proud shimmer in Dreykov’s eyes and another nightmare to come by.

She shortly wonders if she should try take him with her. Maybe they’ll show mercy for once. He’s stood against her until the very last minute, after all. And even in that last fight she’s been nothing but lucky. It could be her bleeding out on the ground just a few meters away now.

She could try but the girl who’s been trained since before she even had been able to understood why and for what, knows better. The elevator won’t move if she drags him along with her. The doors won’t even close.

Only the strongest survive.

She’s been praying that he’ll pass out in these terrible few seconds of uncertainty, of trying to make a decision that’s long been made for her. She should know better. If a God exists, he has never taken particular interest in her life.

He turns to her, and she can see his eyelids are on fire. His lips form words that she can’t hear with one eardrum ruptured since day 3 and the rising noise of trees falling, barrels exploding, rocks crashing.

Maybe she’ll be able to tell herself for a while that he wants her to run.

But the part of her that turns away and takes the elevator to safety because there’s never been another way for her, knows better.

His last words were that he’ll find her.

She wishes, he could. Probably that’s why she left him alive. For the smallest chance that he’ll come for her, this time without making a stupid mistake. That he’ll be the one to finally put an end to it.

Only there’s no way he’ll make it out of there. There is no way out. They have made sure.

She won’t sleep better with that knowledge on her mind but that isn’t the point. Nightmares of seeing her lover burn to death is the easiest punishment she can wish for.

***************

Nightmares were hardly a rarity since Washington, but this was the first time Natasha awoke screaming. Still caught up in too bright, too detailed pictures burning behind her closed eyes, she realized too late that she was far too close to the edge of the bed. Before her instincts could kick in, she went to the floor, tangled in sweat stained sheets and landed on the very same shoulder that desperately needed a timeout anyway.

And that had been the last fucking time to take painkillers before going to sleep.

After she could breathe without wincing out in pain again, she left the bedroom to put together some kind of breakfast and a new load of meds. A postcard in her mailbox immediately made her forget about patching up that shoulder new. She couldn’t help but wonder how Steve had found her. It seemed, she had taught him better than she had realized.

Sam and him hadn’t found anything yet, that amateurishly coded card said. He wanted to know if she was okay. Saying they could use a hand. Sure they could.

He was stubborn, she had to give him that. She wondered if he’d still be once he found out the rest about her, all the stuff that was openly out in the world after Washington. And he would. Once they found Barnes and he would go back to a normal life… Steve would get to know the whole truth about her, sooner or later. There probably wouldn’t be postcards with smileys on them then anymore.

Time for another relocation, it seemed. She had waited for weeks, something that was far too dangerous anyway, and by now all hope was gone that at least a message of Clint might eventually catch up with her here. Hell, there was no telling if he was even still alive. Maybe the buzz out there had at least died down enough by now to try and find out that. The nightmares wouldn't go away from sitting and lying around in apathy much longer, that was for sure.

Ignoring her slightly dizzy condition, due to a few days without enough food, as much as the new warm, wet spots staining the bandage under her shirt, Natasha went back to the bedroom to pack her things. If Steve had found out where she was, chances were too big that someone else would too, to linger much longer.

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When she kissed him she still tasted like salt, still tasted like him, and fuck that was hot. All too soon, though, she was pulling away and it was time to get to work before he had to go get more hot water. Wringing out the wash cloth he carefully wiped it over her face, treating her skin like delicate silk. She really was beautiful, the most beautiful person he had ever know, inside and out. He loved that she let him do this, let him touch her and worship her and admire her beauty.

Dunking the cloth again he lifted her hair out of the way with one hand while running the cloth over the back of her neck and one shoulder. He skirted around her bandage, instead ducking his head to place a gentle kiss over it before washing her arm and each individual finger. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t resist following the cloth and softly kissing each of her fingertips, raising his eyes to her face as he did so.

That damn shoulder was still swollen, though the infection clearly died down now that Natasha finally gave her arm the needed rest. But when Clint's soft mouth touched her skin, his breath and his beard tickled her, it felt hot for a whole different reason...

That intense look from just a moment ago, when he had treated her face like she was a china doll... The way he worked her skin, so very gentle and slowly, like a conservator would touch a piece of art... It was this kind of behavior, so true and committed and affectionate, that made being with him always so different from all the other guys, job-related or - much more seldom - private pleasure wise. That was why Natasha always came back to him and hardly had made more than half-assed attempts of hooking up with anyone else in the past.

Clint and her were best friends, she respected and admired him, she owed him everything and he was a God in bed, but all of that... All of that faded to pale when he held and touched her like he did now. Like... he really meant it.

She still was shivering, especially when his lips touched her fingers next and he looked up at her like that from below, as if he didn't know what that did to her. But it wasn't just arousal, not only. It was all these feelings she usually kept so deeply hidden inside, that no one was ever allowed to see, not if she didn't want to make herself a target. She had been Clint's target in the past and he had decided to miss her, to not take that shot.

With him she could let all these masks drop, and show him, with her small, excited smile, the way she bit her lip, how impatient he was making her right now. And that she loved every second of it.

One fingertip teasingly slipped between his lips, and just the lightest, shortest touch of his tongue had her draw in a short, hot breath and shift a little on his leg. Not too surprising that she left his skin damp and warm before the cloth had even come close to her groin.

Edited 2014-06-12 09:01 (UTC)

He could feel her shivering, but from the flush of her skin and the look in her eyes he knew it wasn’t because she was cold. It was that knowledge of her that kept him from dropping the whole thing, wrapping her up and moving over to the fire where it was warmer.

She was so beautiful like this, stripped bare, and not just of her clothes. No masks, no walls, no hard shells to protect herself. She was willing and wanting and entirely her, the caring and wonderful woman too few people truly knew.

His eyes dropped to her mouth, to that little smile and the way she worried her lower lip, but immediately found her eyes again following her instant reaction to the touch of his tongue to her finger. That sharp breath, the involuntary movement, and fuck if she wasn’t wet already. He didn’t want to torture here, didn’t want to hold out on her after she had been so accommodating to his needs, but he still had a job to do.

He didn’t spend as much time on her other hand before brushing her hair over on shoulder and angling her forward slightly to scrub down her back, cloth just skimming over the tops of that perfect buttocks of hers before he indicated she lean back again. “Foot,” he instructed, rinsing out the cloth again and tapping one of her legs.

That cloth definitely didn't go down far enough to where she wished he would touch her right now, but Natasha had always been a patient person when it was necessary. So she didn't protest but just smiled at him sweetly at his next request and slowly lifted her leg to rest it on his opposite thigh, as far away from the bandage as possible. In order to achieve that she had to keep her foot completely unintentional close to his crotch of course, not touching, not more at least than with a stray toe teasing him.

That position opened her up shamelessly for him of course and she knew, he just had to angle his head right to look at what being close to him did to her. She pondered about lowering her hand between her legs, tease him with just a little touch to her oversensitive, slick stained lips, but she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to stop then. So she just gave him a look from under her lashes and kept the hand not resting on his hip on her thigh like a good girl.

"That right?"

Maybe it was his turn to make her feel good, but Natasha was never one to just sit back and let it happen like he had. She had to get her shots in too, that teasing, playful side coming out rather strongly as she followed his request in the most provocative way possible. Her foot was a little too close and he could feel his own arousal stirring again, but he forced himself to focus.

“Yeah, that works,” he said, lifting her foot from his leg and taking great care to wash each toe and the space between them before slowly drawing the cloth over her sole and up her leg. When he reached her knee his eyes strayed higher finally and he sucked in a breath. She was wet and slightly swollen and ready for him but he wasn’t even half done. Maybe it was time to speed it up a little.

Ducking his head to nip lightly at her knee, he took a deep breath, inhaling her scent and letting out a low growl in his throat before forcing himself on. When he reached the juncture of her legs he let the edge of the cloth just barely graze her mound before letting go of her leg. “Other one,” he said as he dunked the cloth again, his voice just a little huskier than before.

Damn, that felt good. It would never fail to amaze her, how delicate and soft Clint's big hands could work when requested. The way he was thoroughly taking care of every inch of her leg definitely proved that once again. Just that fleeting touch following then had her flinch, suck in another breath. From that sexy sound in his voice she judged that she wasn't the only one having problems with self-control.

Nearly done, thank God. She lifted her second leg obediently and rested her foot on his knee this time, snuggling into his side with a little purr. She did her best not to distract him, really, but when her lips found his shoulder, she just had to give the taut skin a teasing nip.

She rested her head right there and breathed in the warm scent of his skin, deeply and just a little uneven from that growing emptiness between her legs. She gave herself completely over to however he wanted to touch her, without even a second thought. With Clint, she could do that, with him she never had to be afraid of rash moves or unexpected pain. She liked it when he touched her.

Though 'like' maybe wasn't a strong enough word, and certainly right now. Right now she had to keep back from grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand to where she really wanted it.

This position was more comfortable than the last, but while he didn’t have her teasing toes distracting him she used her lips instead, though thankfully not for long.

Gliding the cloth up her leg, he once again brought it agonizingly close but not close enough before skirting up her side and over her belly. He knew she was getting frustrated, though in the best way possible, so he wouldn’t keep her waiting too much longer, but there was one more spot that needed his attention first. Moving his hand up her abdomen to her chest, he brushed the cloth over one perfect breast, then the other, pinching her nipple just lightly as he passed. Focusing on one with his hand, he dipped his head to capture the other with his lips.

An embarrassing little whine came over Natasha's lips when Clint again missed that one spot that was burning with need by now. But she soon enough forgot about that, because he found another equally pleasurable target.

The first touch with that cloth was like a flash of electricity sizzling right down her spine and into that heat between her legs. What started as a relieved, turned on gasp soon turned into a quiet moan when he finally stopped playing around and brought his lips to her body. She found she liked his hair when it was a little longer... It was perfect to bury her hand there and keep him right where he was, before he could have the silly idea of letting go off her.

Her breasts were already flushed from the heat of the water and arousal, so it didn't take much more than these small gentle touches to leave her nipples hard and sensitive against his lips and hand. She arched her back slightly, pressing into him and bit her lip harder but couldn't help another moan from the rising heat in her body.

She was grinding against his thigh again and couldn't stop herself, as embarrassing as it was, and it made her just gasp and tremble for him even more. His skin was getting soaked from her wetness which was hotter than it should be, but it definitely wasn't enough. She gave him another minute until she would actually ask him to finish this bath right down there... A kind of surrender that only Clint could get out of her.

God, it definitely had been too long.

She was moaning and writhing and trembling against him and christ if he wasn’t getting turned on all over again. She was so fucking wet against his leg, and her fingers gripping his hair elicited a faint growl against her skin. Keeping one hand on her back to help keep her steady, he caught her nipple between his teeth and tongue, rolling gently.

Whether he was sensing her own need or just growing frustrated himself by the cloth that prevented him from feeling her smooth skin, it wasn’t a moment later that he was dropping the cloth back in the basin beside him so he could run his hand freely over her, cupping her breast and rubbing his thumb over the hardened peak.

Just as she hadn’t kept him waiting, though, he wouldn’t make her ask for it, not tonight. He wanted to make her feel as soon as she had him, so while he kept his mouth busy, his hand roamed down over her flat stomach to finally touch her where she really wanted to be touched, his fingers sliding through her wetness and parting her folds. It felt so good he couldn’t help but moan himself.

Natasha's hand tightened in his hair when his started wandering again, just on that edge of too much. Admittedly, she was hoping for another of these sexy voices from his throat as she loved it when his animal side started to show.

The sound she was making was more of a whimper this time. It was so fucking good, everything she had longed for and still not enough. The way he was just teasing her with his tongue and teeth until her nipple felt rock hard in his mouth and she pressed against him harder, yearning for more... And the way he still managed to tease her, even when he got that skilled hand of his finally between her legs. Perfect and still not quite there.

Feeling how fucking wet he really had gotten her made her throw her head back with another gasp, but that was a silly idea because the rash movement made her feel her injury again. She rather buried her forehead against his shoulder, breathing in his clean, wild scent and adding that faint layer of sweat from her own to it, rubbing herself against him like a cat.

"Please..."

She only realized she was about to speak when she heard her own voice, throaty, filled with pure, raw need.

"More, harder..."

It had clearly been too long for both of them, as every sensation seemed to be heightened for her as well. He hadn’t meant to make her ask for it, but hearing her practically begging him in that tone of voice definitely brought him to full attention. Growling again against her, a little louder than before, he treated her with more of a bite than a nip, just this side of too hard. He didn’t wait any longer before plunging two fingers into her welcoming heat as deep as they would go, crooking them slightly once they were buried well within her.

“You’re so fucking hot,” his voice rumbled against her as he caught her nipple between his teeth again and gave it a tug. At the same time he found her clit with his thumb and applied pressure.

Natasha first keened and then swore, her hips bucking against his hand as much as possible, but fuck, that wasn't really much with hardly any leverage. And she didn't want to hurt him when his body was still healing.

She just as little wanted to move, though, not when he finally started putting that magical hands of his to use. A new wave of arousal hit her so hard that she clenched around his fingers violently, her skin burning with growing desire. The place where she pressed her face against him, was damp from sweat and her lips and tongue sucking and sweeping over his skin.

Well, she wouldn't be the Black Widow if she didn't have a solution to small dilemmas like this.

"That hand stays where it is", she growled against his neck, a sound similar to that sexy noise from his throat before that turned her on so much.

Very unwillingly, she let go off him and got up just enough to swing one leg around his and then straddled his leg again, careful not to come too close to the other. This time she was kneeling on the sofa more than sitting, though, which had her tits very comfortably right in Clint's face to play with, and even more important, she could grind down on his fingers shamelessly.

By now she didn't care anymore how obviously sex-starved she would seem to him. She had an idea, he wouldn't really mind. She needed him now, his touch, his care, she needed to forget and to feel she was still fucking alive. That there was someone who wanted her alive and feeling good. Not just someone... The one man she could give herself over to completely, the one who had never failed her, in no regard. She just trusted that he wouldn't do it now, either.

"Better."

She smiled down at him, a mischievous, heated look in her eyes, and moved her knee just close enough to his crotch to tease him a little. It was highly flattering to already feel him get interested again, to say the least.

"Gonna make me come, hotshot?"

It had been a very long time since he had seen her this wild, this turned on, and he felt a strong sense of pride that it was all because of him. She was clenching hard around his fingers already, her hips bucking against his hand as she swore and growled and holy fuck it was about the sexiest thing in the world.

He didn’t even think of protesting her statement - no, her order, and he moved with her as she repositioned herself, making sure his fingers stayed deeply seated inside of her. If his thumb pressed against her a little harder in the process, well, that could hardly be helped.

When she had made herself more comfortable he grinned widely at her, clearly enjoying the new view before raising his eyes to meet hers. Between the look in her eyes and that teasing brush of her knee he was definitely getting interested again.

“Oh yeah,” he breathed. Now that she had a more solid seat he moved the hand on her back up to tangle in her red curls and pull her into a rough kiss, nipping at her lower lip when he pulled back. “I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard.”

Sliding his hand back down from her hair, he didn’t stop until he reached her perfect ass, his fingers digging in as he grabbed a handful. Squeezing her tightly, he pulled his fingers almost entirely out of her before thrusting in again, just as hard as before, his eyes fixed on her face.

Just that look on his face and that hot, violent kiss had Natasha grab the back rest tightly with both hands for support. It was amazing how much that man could undo her. She went with the flow easily, let him handle her and allowed his tongue to plunder her mouth while she thrust her hips down onto his fingers greedily. His game right now.

"Oh fuck."

She shuddered and closed her eyes, biting down on her lower lip again, exactly that little spot Clint had just nipped, relishing the memories that his big strong hand on her ass provoked. Memories of dark and perfect, endless pleasure or just his fingers working her until she screamed out with lust, a nice, sharp hit here and there... They shared certain preferences for certain body parts which had always made their nights very exciting to say the least. It was enough to make her wetter by just thinking of it, soaking him until every of his thrusts made a delicious, obscene noise.

Right now she needed no games, though, right now she just wanted to get off, and Clint was very well on the way to achieve that goal in no time. Pure, raw pleasure spread on her face when he started fucking her just the way she needed it, her lip red and sensitive from her own teeth, her forehead crunched in a nearly concentrated frown of just enjoying all the sensations for once. Of letting him handle her how he wanted it, while her fingers dug small prints into the leather of the sofa.

"Right there... Fuck..."

Her hips trembled against him, angling slightly so she could feel his skilled fingers pressing down where it made her breath hitch in her throat, every time he trusted them back inside her. The tension was already coiling in a ball of heat in her lower body, making her weak in the knees. She couldn't decide if she wanted that perfect torture for a while longer or rather have it explode right away. Probably both.

Whimpering softly, she let go off the sofa with one hand to catch one of her nipples between her fingertips, twisting and pulling hard while she moaned a row of praises and filthy things to Clint, about all the things she was planning to do to him soon.

If he didn't kill her in this very moment, that was, which she definitely couldn't guarantee.

He loved watching her like this, loved seeing that look on her face. It was so rare that Natasha completely let her guard down, but now she was giving herself over to him completely, just letting herself go, and it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

Paying very close attention to both her words and the way her body spoke to him, Clint made sure to angle his fingers just right to hit that sweet spot every time, all the while rubbing her clit in gentle circles with his thumb. When her hand moved to one breast and started to tug and twist her nipple he leaned in again to lavish attention on the other, catching it between his teeth and tugging while flicking the tip rapidly with his tongue. All the talk of further pleasures rolling off her tongue just egged him on and he squeezed her ass again, his fingers moving to slide between her cheeks.

Her body went taut like spring when Clint caught on the hint and got his mouth back on her, all that built up pleasure amplifying a hundred times between her legs. When his fingers slipped right to that perfect place, she went off like a rocket.

A new surge of wetness coated Clint's hand as she bucked and trembled against him, her muscles clenching around him violently. For a few blissful moments the world consisted of nothing but his wonderful touch, the heavy smell of sex in the air and his beloved scent close when she buried her face against his shoulder, shaking and gasping.

Her hand already was buried in his hair again, urging him to lean his head back so she could kiss him, breathlessly, deep, filthy. She still felt fucking turned on but at least not that impatient anymore, so she just pressed her body against his, still careful not to put pressure on the wrong spots and enjoyed that thoughtless bliss washing over her.

"Wow..."

When she came she practically gushed over him and he muffled a groan against her breast. She was so tight when she clenched around his fingers and he kept pumping her with shallower, slower strokes until she stopped shuddering, and even then he didn’t pull out just yet.

Following her urging he tilted his head back to kiss her, running his tongue along hers and sucking at her lower lip. Grinning at that one simple word, he opened his eyes to look up at her. “Guess I haven’t lost my touch,” he said, finally sliding his fingers out of her to stroke softly through her folds again.

"As if you ever could."

Natasha chuckled breathlessly and whined a little when he withdrew, leaving her feeling empty and still not completely exhausted. Years of deprivation did that to you, it seemed. Her own thin fingers or lifeless toys definitely hadn't been a replacement for Clint's skills.

She felt very much like checking up how excited he really was, her cheeks still hot and flushed, her breath just a little too deep and fast still. But she was clear enough again to remember all his injuries and the problems they brought.

"You're lucky you have to take it easy, hotshot", she murmured under her breath. "Or I would ride you through that damn couch now."

“I dunno. Been a long time,” he said, and truer words were never spoken. Far too fucking long, that’s what it had been. Leaning back against the sofa, he took a moment to admire her. Her lips were swollen, her skin flushed, her chest rising and falling a little more rapid than normal. This was an image he wanted to remember, one he wanted to cherish and keep with him wherever he may end up, though he hoped he didn’t end up there alone.

Her words made him chuckle and a wicked grin settled on his lips. “Well, I don’t have to take it that easy,” he replied, dipping his fingers just barely into her again before withdrawing completely. He loved that disappointed noise she had made earlier when he’d pulled out, the one that seemed to say that she wanted him inside her, always. He wasn’t doing it to deprive her, though, and his arm moved around her, his well lubed fingers taking the place of his others between her ass cheeks. “And I know you can be gentle...”

Not that what they’d done so far hadn’t been fantastic, but he wasn’t ready for it to be over yet, and she had felt so good clenching around his fingers. He wanted more.

Natasha hesitated, because the very last thing she wanted was hurting Clint, just because she was too impatient to let him fully heal. Only it was pretty clear from the way his cock strained again her leg, that he wanted it just as much. And here she had thought they had left the times of being silly and reckless behind...

Andy yet the second he got his fingers back inside her, her body immediately went tense and the next embarrassing sound came from her lips. Whom was she trying to fool? She was still so fucking wet for him, she'd just have ended up in the bathroom getting herself off if they stopped now. A shame when he was so clearly willing...

"Oh God..."

Her eyes fell close when he teased her with his slick fingertips, right there where she loved it so much, which made up a little for the new loss of him withdrawing so quickly. Marginally better. Her muscles still tried to clench down onto nothing, an empty, nearly painful sensation of want.

Gentle? She could do gentle, though that wasn't something they had tried too often in bed... Her hand seemed to have developed a will of its own, sneaking down Clint's stomach until she had him in her palm, impressively hard again, sensitive to her touch, pulsating with the same arousal that drowned her clear thinking. She stroked him slowly, with her lip drawn back between her teeth, her breath going faster with every move. Picturing how it would feel to have him inside her now didn't exactly help her decision.

Fuck this.

"Open up a little for me, hotshot", she murmured huskily, carefully pressing her hand against his injured leg, far below the bandage, to make him spread his thighs further.

Better. Turning her body to the opposite side and keeping her leg on the inside of his, that wouldn't bother that damn wound. And with her own legs spread more, she could press her crotch more easily into his, which promptly drew another whimper from her when his cock glided through her wetness, until she was panting audibly.

Enough teasing. She guided him deeper, with her hand still softly wrapped around his base, until he was as deep inside her as possible in this position, and another relieved, turned on noise came from her lips. Fuck, she had forgotten how very hot this was. She clenched down on him tentatively and promptly moaned again, burying her forehead against his shoulder. Too good, too tempting. She wanted to pleasure him, of course she did, it got harder by the second not to move. But that last nagging worry didn't want to go away that she would make his injury worse, the one on his side especially.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

She rubbed her body as close against his as possible, needing to feel him, the warmth of his skin soothing away the coldness of her fears. She ended up trembling in his arms just harder, feeling him so perfectly filling her with every move that her muscles fluttered around him again and again without her will.

Silly and reckless was part of his charm, Clint figured, and it was something he had no plans of growing out of any time soon, especially when it felt this good. Watching her react to his every touch was nearly as arousing as her own touches. Nearly. Sucking in a sharp breath when she wrapped her hand around him again, he kept his eyes on her face, willing her to give in.

No, gentle wasn’t something they had really done in the past when it came to sex, but he knew she could be gentle, knew from all the times she had cleaned and stitched him up after a mission. Her hands were weapons, dangerous and deadly, yet soft and caring when she wanted them to be. Just like the rest of her.

When she finally gave in Clint felt an excited stir in his stomach and he obeyed instantly, spreading his legs wider. He wanted her so bad and he was grateful that she didn’t draw this out; only seconds later she was sinking down over him, engulfing him in her wet heat, and he let out a low moan as she did so. Burying his face in her beautiful breasts when she clenched around him, he squeezed her buttocks with one hand and wrapped the other arm around her, holding her tight against him. For a long time he didn’t move, just held her and relished in the feel of her, how she trembled in his arms and squeezed him gently.

“Christ, I’ve missed this,” he muttered against her, rolling his hips just a little before stilling his movements again. “You feel so fucking good.”

"Hmm, do that again."

Natasha finally lifted her head off his shoulder, revealing her sweat glistening, reddened cheeks and that slightly dazed look of increasing pleasure in her eyes.

Hearing him talk in that heavily aroused voice soothed a little of her worries. She finally dared to press her hips down onto him, feeling him deeper, feeling him rub against her most intimate spots. With the slightly rotated position it was slightly different than usual, but just as good. There it was again, this perfect fluttering of her muscles around him that had her shiver against him and mewl with pleasure.

She couldn't be as wild with him as she usually preferred when she was on top, but she could drive him crazy in other ways... Moving slightly against that sweet touch of his hand on her ass to encourage him, she started clenching down on him tightly, a lazy, slow rhythm that had her moan out rhythmically in no time.

"Love your cock inside me", she murmured against his ear. "Missed it so much how you stretch me open..."

Her tongue darted forward, teasing his ear and licking off the small beads of sweat on his temple, then she sucked his earlobe between her lips and started nibbling on it earnest, the sounds from her throat vibrating against his skin.

She didn’t have to ask twice. Clint repeated the move, groaning in pleasure as she pressed down to meet him at the same time. He could feel her slowly loosening up, her worries fading as he showed her he was fine and reminded her how good this felt. It was the same but different, and no less amazing.

When she pushed back against his hand he could certainly take the hint, but it took him a moment to respond when she picked up that rhythm and he had the clenching of her muscles and that sexy fucking moaning to adjust to. “Oh fuck,” he muttered when she started talking dirty in his ear. She knew damn well that was one of his sensitive areas, and when she started nibbling on his earlobe he had to force some rather unsexy thoughts into his head so he didn’t end this too quickly on his part.

Remembering himself, he slid his hand lower, his finger brushing against where they joined together and around her folds to get newly lubed. “If you put your foot on the cough beside me you might get better leverage,” he suggested in a stilted tone as he circled his fingers around her asshole. He didn’t know if the change of position would help her, or if she even needed it as much as she seemed to be enjoying herself, but he’d never been good at keeping his thoughts to himself. He rolled his hips again, falling into rhythm with her as he continued to massage her hole before pushing just the very tip of one finger inside, stopping at the first sign of resistance.

"You always have so creative ideas..."

Natasha's chuckle was bright and sweet even through her arousal. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, her tongue was already off to tease his ear again while she rearranged herself the way he had proposed. Then his fingers started wandering though and she had no breath or mind for witty remarks left.

"Yes, please..."

The new position did indeed wonders to angle and leverage and soon she lost the last of control. The movements of her hips came tighter and quicker now, in time with her moans, and she didn't even need to concentrate on clenching down on him anymore. Just feeling him so impossibly hard and thick, so deep inside her, had her muscles work him in a relentless erotic grip with every thrust.

Already she could feel the heat build in her groin again, that perfect tension arching her back, and her hand got caught in Clint's hair again, pulling his head back so she could look down at him, show her what he did to her with his passion and his hands.

"Don't stop..."

“Until you manage to short my brain out,” Clint chuckled in return. Keeping his hands in place when she moved, he growled a little in his throat when she started riding him in earnest now, her muscles bearing down on him hard, making her feel so incredibly tight.

He tried to bury his face in her chest again but her not so gently grip in his hair had him looking up at her and he was instantly transfixed. The gentle prompting brought him back around and he remembered what he had been doing before. Moving his free hand to her butt as well he started massaging the puckered skin around his finger as he pushed deeper and pulled back before pushing deeper still, his finger moving in time with the rhythm they’d already set with their hips.

What's left of us (for broken_arrow)

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