Natasha gasps on his next thrust in, his hands clenching her hips even more tightly as her inner muscles spasm. Bruce breathes heavily.
"Why me?" he asks. When I can hurt you, bend you, break you...
Her body arches off the bed. She doesn't answer; she doesn't even know if she even has one. She drives her nails deeply into his back, and he grunts in pain, has to stop his movements and compose himself as best he can. The Other Guy is not a fan of Bruce being in pain. And after the day he had had, it was best not to tempt fate.
"Come on," Natasha urges, thrusting her body down on his cock, not yet recognizing his struggle, lost in her own pleasure for the first time in a long time.
"Ahhh, stop. Stop."
Realizing that something is off, she runs her hand soothingly through Bruce's damp hair, looks searchingly into his eyes.
"What is it?"
He takes several deep breaths before answering. "I can't come. It's too dangerous. I can feel Him. I have to stop and calm down."
He pulls his thick cock from her body, and she whimpers at the loss. Her contracting muscles inadvertently squeeze him as he slides out. He collapses onto the bed beside her, cock laying red and leaking against his stomach. It looks painfully uncomfortable. She watches him take deep, shuddering breaths. She waits for him to speak.
"Just-just give me a minute. You shouldn't have to suffer because of me."
His cock twitches and leaks more clear fluid. The idea of going at it again was obviously stimulating to him. Natasha doesn't think that would be exactly fair of her to ask that of him.
"Do you want me to go?"
"No, no. Come on," he says, hoisting her onto his lap. "Ride me until either you come or I call uncle."
She bites her lip as she considers his offer. He wouldn't be making such a suggestion if he didn't think he could handle it. She decides to try it, positioning herself over him before carefully sinking down, enjoying the stretch. Bruce's hands immediately return to their place on her hips, grasping her with quite a force. His eyes slam shut and she can tell he's gritting his teeth pretty bad badly by the way his jaw is so tightly set.
"Are you alright?"
She agreed to do this on three conditions: 1) What better solution was there to control hulking out than endorphins that came from delayed gratification? 2) She needed to be able to trust him. As her teammate, there was nothing more important than knowing someone had your back no matter what. 3) The poor guy had not had an orgasm since becoming the Hulk. And that's something no one, not even the Hulk, should have to endure.
"Don't stop," he said tersely.
Bracing herself against his solid chest, she raises and lowers her hips, settling into a rhythm that hits all the right spots. She reaches down a hand to rub herself to complete her pleasure. It isn't long before she feels that intense fluttering and the heat pooling in her stomach. Natasha can't help the little mewls that escape her mouth as she feels her climax build and build before exploding inside her in warm waves from her toes to the roots of her hair. She sighs in contentment as she stretches herself out over Bruce's body, nuzzling her face into the side of his neck. It's her third orgasm since they began this evening and a sort of sleepiness begins to set in. She's not tired exactly, but a rest would be nice. She kisses the side of his neck and the line of his jaw and into his hairline, and he moans as she tickles him and arouses him with her mouth. Bruce is still solid within her.
"Do you want to try coming now?"
And God does he. When Natasha moves off of him, he slides out of her again, and his cock slaps him in the stomach, the head a shade of nearly unbearable purple. He squirms on the mattress, crossing and uncrossing his legs as he struggles to breathe. Natasha tries to sooth him by running her gentle fingers through his curls, but even that seems to feel like too much. He wants to answer Natasha's question but he can't seem to find the words, so instead he nods his head as he bites his bottom lip as her slender fingers wrap around him.
She firmly jacks him with her right hand while her left cups his balls, which are drawn up so tightly that Natasha figures most be more painful than pleasurable. She doesn't tease him or slow or stop her movements because she knows that he deserves this and wants this and she wants to give it to him.
"It's ok, Bruce," she encourages. "You can let go. It's ok. I'm here. I won't hurt you. Come on. Can you come for me?"
In the next second, he's spilling over her fist, arching off the bed in a tight bow and yelling his release. She strokes him through pulse after pulse as his balls finally drain their weight after too long of being denied. She uses soft words and gentle kisses to calm him down because while this is probably pure bliss for Bruce right now, there is still that edge of danger she needs to watch for. But as Bruce's cock stops twitching in her palm and as his back settles back down on the bed, her anticipation fades. Eventually Bruce pulls her hands away and she moves to lay down beside him again, holding him close to her, feeling compassion and care and something akin to camaraderie that she hasn't felt in a very long time.
"How are you feeling?" she asks, knowing that he probably wants to sleep, but needing to know that he wasn't still suffering.
His sleep-heavy eyes try to focus on her as he says, "Relieved."
And, she guesses, that he means it in more ways than one. She wipes her hands off on a rag and crawls to the foot of the bed to retrieve the blanket they had long since kicked off the end. She covers them both and wraps her arms around her friend's tired form. Natasha decides he can sleep here just this one time, considering everything he's been through.
She about to doze off when she hears his voice, deep and far away say, "Thank you."
She kisses his cheek in response and falls into a comfortably dreamless sleep with Bruce's breath and smell surrounding her.