Natasha was driving Tony crazy.
He was spread out on the bed, tablet in hand as he works on the advertising mock ups Pepper sent that morning. Or tries to, rather.
Natasha spins, perfectly poised on one foot; her form clearly the result of years of practice. She pauses, her legs taut as she stretches her arms above her head. Tony's bottom lip finds its way between his teeth as his eyes trace her body. Then a helpless, "Do you have to do that?"
Natasha's lips quirk ever so slightly. Which, for her, was pretty much a grin. "Am I bothering you, Mr. Stark?" she asks drily, a cleverly raised brow. She relaxes and spreads her legs further, her head cocked to the side. As she spoke, she took hold of the lapels of her hoodie. Tony's hoodie. "Would you like me to go?" Tony watches as the lapels spread further apart, revealing more of the pale skin of her throat and bare chest. She stood before him in nothing more than that striped hoodie and her black panties. She'd stolen it during her stint at Natalie Rushman and refused to give it back. Most days they shared it, like today.
Tony swallows, willing his voice not to waver. "I'm a busy, busy man. If I don't finish these reports, Pepper will kill me." Natasha's lips twist into a glimmer of a smile, her hips swaying as she stalks toward the bed. She moved quietly, light on her feet in a way that Tony had always admired. Climbing atop Tony's lap skillfully, she eyes him coyly.
"I'll protect you," she murmurs fondly. Her lashes fluttered, eyes crinkling in the corners as she seated herself more securely in his lap. "My busy, busy man," she adds with a smirk. Her fingers trail down his bare chest, careful around the arc reactor before making their way down his treasure trail and tapping the band of his briefs. Her eyes cut to him through dark lashes, waiting. Tony stays strong for another few moments before he's casting his tablet aside and gazing up at her resignedly.
"You're a bad influence," Tony says, his hand sliding through rivulets of red hair as he leans up to meet her lips. He can only imagine what he looked like. When they'd begun, Natasha had bright, red lips and now they were bare and pink. He must be wearing more of the color than she was at the moment and the thought warms him. Natasha was so self-contained, used to momentary attachments; it was rare for her to leave her mark on anything. But Tony wore her colors, he bore the nail marks on his back when he'd sucked hard on her clit and made her lose composure for one blissful moment. He accepts her tongue, his arm coming up behind her back to hold her close. She shivers, her arms coming down to bracket his body.
The lapels fall open, her nipples pink and erect in the chilled air. Tony's palms her toned stomach and traces the valley between her breasts. Her skin was so soft and pale, so delicate for someone so deadly. It sends a thrill down his spine and makes him hold her closer. She kisses him softly, her hips rolling in teasing circles, her lips quirking up in the corners when she feels him harden against her. He pulls back, lays kisses down her throat before he takes a nipple into his mouth. Her breath catches, hips pausing minutely in their circling before she picks up again, stroking her fingers through his hair. He nips at the bud, laying his thumb over the other and relishes in the soft sighs he draws from her lips. He palms the small of her back and feels her shudder against him, the warmth between her thighs spreading to him. She was softest like this, harsh only when he teased her clit and refused to let her come. He can feel her wet where their hips met and longs to be inside her.
Apparently, the thought had crossed her mind as well because she pulls him away from her breast, shivering as the cold air sets in. Tony removes his briefs as Nat shifts up onto her knees to remove her panties. She keeps the sweater and Tony's heart warms as he takes hold of the lapels. She drops a kiss on his lips and takes hold of him, stroking him a few times before sliding a condom on and positioning him. The slide is slow and controlled, holding his gaze as she lowered herself onto his cock. He waits with bated breath, the teasing heat of her sex making his cock ache in anticipation. It's torture, Tony's hands shaking where they gripped her hips. He bites down on his lip, swallowing a moan as she began a slow rhythm.
She was so powerful, her abdominals tensing as she rose on strong thighs and fell at a painfully measured pace. By the looks of things, she could do this all day and Tony almost wants her to. She was beautiful like this: her curls in disarray, mouth kiss bitten and soft, the little furrow between her brows in focus. He enjoyed it just as much as those times when they were post mission, still running on adrenaline and she rode him relentlessly. The tease is affecting her as well, breathy moans slipping out with every pass, every grind that presses her clit against his groin. Yet she maintains her punishing rhythm, drawing a low whine form Tony's throat.
"Natasha," he whispers, her smile just this side of wicked. Her heat engulfed him once more and he can't resist bucking up to meet her, the tightness stoking the fire in the pit of his stomach. She cocks her head to the side and speeds up for a moment, enough that his eyes fall closed and he comes closer to the edge, to that wondrous rise before the fall.
She pulls him close, kisses his cheek and slows again, laughing as she kisses away his soft moans. She circles her hips once more, the motion putting more pressure on her clit and he's tempted to help, to reach down and stroke it firmly but Natasha was running the show. And a cruel one at that.
He buries his nose in the soft, flowery scent on her neck and groans. She shivers, minutely but enough that it brings a smile to his face. Her hips stutter for a moment and then she's picking up speed again, her breaths growing louder in his ear. The wet sucking heat of her cunt squeezed tight around him, enveloping him as he breathes her in. "Natasha," he sighs and it's all he can bear to say as she holds fast, doesn't let up and now she's riding him eagerly. Tony pulls back for just a moment to watch the waves of red hair fall across her shoulders and back.
Her muscles pull tight, her abs contracting as she leans back in his hips and rides him for all he's worth. He's close, holding tight to her hips as she cups his face. He can't recall what it felt like to feel fear at her touch. He stared up at her in awe, near disbelief for what must be the hundredth time at the fact that this was real. Natasha had truly let him this close to her; an honor he would never stop reveling in. She pulls him to her chest, kisses his head, his cheeks, his mouth as her hips circle and she squeezes even tighter around him.
His eyes fall shut, eyes wet as he cries, "Natasha," as he comes and she envelops him in her arms. His cock pulses within her, her cunt milking him with her punishing rhythm. She's losing steam, her cunt contracting around him and he manages to slide his thumb between them to her aching clit. She jerks at the touch, pushing against the digit as he circles it firmly. She's so wet, the feel of it making his cock jerk and release more. It doesn't take much to make her gasp and clamp down around his cock, her back arching as she comes.
"Tony," she breathes and several words he doesn't know. He hopes they're good as he strokes her clit and helps her work through it. She moans softly, her fingers trailing over his face, his hair as he takes a hard nipple into his mouth.
When he pulls out, he ties off the condom and slides down between her legs. She smiles down at him, the hoodie crumpled beneath her arms. She taps the inside of her knee against his shoulder. "What are you doing?"
Tony grins furtively as he settles on his stomach. He grips her thighs, drops a kiss where her thigh meets her groin and listens for that knowing intake of breath. Here, he's surrounded by the scent of her; her sex, her perfume, her sweat. Her skin in pink from exertion, her cunt flushed, wet and welcoming. His eyes fall closed and his mouth waters but he takes his time laying kisses along the inside of her thighs.
He doesn't stay away for long, swiping his tongue along her outer lips, softly, tasting her. He hears another soft intake of breath, her thighs spreading wider for him and he gets his hands involved and spreads her open. Flushed and aroused, so soon after coming, Natasha's more sensitive than ever, every pass of his tongue drawing aborted motions and attempts to stay still. It's gradual, his eyes tracing every motion of her hips as he swipes the rough pad of his tongue over her erect clit. Her fingers twine through his hair as she holds him close. He sucks it between his teeth gently, his hands holding her thighs apart. She's shaking, releasing more wetness, every drag of his goatee on her skin brings new tremors. Then he's sucking ardently, her hard clit between his lips and she's coming. Crying out and urgently grinding her cunt against his face as he continues to suck.
This was his victory song, his most proud moment: when he could get her to the place where she could no longer quietly succumb but instead gave a glimpse of the passion she continuously kept at bay. He continues to lap at her gently, watching her body crest and fall as she comes down.
When he's had his fill, he drops a kiss to her abdomen and lets her pull him up to rest on top of her. She smiles at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she eyes him fondly. "You're very good at that," she remarks and Tony flushed with pride. She kisses him, her tongue dipping inside to taste herself. He felt safest here in the warmth of her arms, her breasts soft against his chest.
He noses into her throat with a sigh. "I worked all of ten minutes. You're very distracting." A cold zipper slides along his back as she covers him playfully with the lapels of the sweater. He closes his eyes, his voice low as he murmurs. "Someday you'll give this sweater back to me."
Her voice is warm, "Not a chance."