They barely made it through the door of the apartment before he was on her, hand fisting almost painfully in her hair as he presses her back against the wall. Fuelled by vodka and the tension that has been simmering between them since New York, his lips plunder hers with a tenderness that is almost bruising.
Caught in the moment, the hunger for something real and true brings them together, the whisper of skin against skin brushing aside all worries of what might be. Back in the city where it all began, the desire to chase they shadows from one another's eyes is close to all consuming. It's been too long since she last felt the roaring heat of him against her, too long since he stole her breath and made her heart speed up and slow down all at once.
With skilled fingers they pull at clothing, trading kisses and caresses until he has her exactly where he wants her. Knowing that this is a milestone for him, that his fear of what might happen if he loses control has been holding him back for months, she lets him set the pace and gives herself over to him without reservation. He doesn't disappoint. With lips and teeth and tongue he feeds on her, leaving her shuddering as he draws out every sensation until her knees threaten to buckle and he draws soft purring sounds from deep within her throat.
She arches against him bringing their bodies closer and relishing the friction that the movement creates. "Impatient are we?" he teases as his calloused hands trace up her thighs. He chuckles darkly against the soft skin of her throat, his right hand tangling in her hair as he continues to explore her. Without warning he lifts her pulling her flush against him and she climbs his body with a soft cry, blood warming for him, both legs wrapping tightly around his waist. He manages her weight easily, eating up the distance to the bedroom with long strides and drops her to the mattress where he can devour her with hungry eyes.
He kisses his way up her body, all impatience forgotten, beginning at her ankles and stopping when his hips rest between her thighs and he can claim her mouth. Taking his time, drawing out every caress, Clint reminds her somewhat creatively that he knows her better than any man she has ever known. He smiles against her mouth, his fingers lacing with her own as he joins their bodies. This is the moment that she craves the most, the moment when she surrenders herself to his strong embrace, his fierce, possessive hold, the moment that he turns what transpires between them into a communion of body and soul. In moments like this, she is his and he is hers.
In time she loses track of all but the scent of him and the brush of his skin. His fingers are like fire, leaving burning trails wherever he touches, teasing trails across her collar bones, clutching hands at her hips, a gentle touch where he lifts her jaw so that he can claim her mouth. The sensations that he calls from her are too delicious to ignore, so much more precious for having thought she might have lost him forever, instinct guiding their movements and intuition stopping them from pushing one another too far too fast. She breathes him in, letting him claim her and assert his dominance over her, melting beneath him while he does it.
He demands that she share the most intimate of moments with him entirely, without flinching and without looking away. He ensures that nothing can save them from the wildfire in one another's eyes. She arches her back and he captures her mouth, swallowing the sounds that she makes for him, eyes burning into hers as they both shatter apart and come back together in the passing of a moment.
In the wake of the storm they lie together, spent and shuddering atop the mattress, hands still touching, close enough to share every breath. Unwilling to acknowledge the rest of the world, they hover on the edges of reality, wishing that the night and this moment can go on forever.
"I've never told you that I..." he whispers, trailing off with an awkwardness, an insecurity, that rouses something fierce and protective in her. She looks into his eyes and knows exactly what he is trying to say. Heart thundering against his, Natasha guides his face to hers and kisses him in a way that conveys more than any words could. She offers him a soft smile when he rolls away and tucks her into his side, pulling the sheet over them both.
"You don't have to," she replies softly, still looking him directly in the eye, knowing that they can no longer hide from the reality of what they mean to each other. "You tell me a hundred ways every single day."