One thing I learnt about Natasha Romanoff on our holiday in Paris, was that she was a tease.
I couldn't even count the times she had me under her finger even if I tried. She was constantly throwing glances my way, touching me gently but never enough, always being the seducess she was made to be.
Right now I was just walking out of the shower, waist wrapped in the heavy hotel towel. I sighed, running a hand through my wet hair and making my way to my clothes, when something caught my eye on the bed.
She lay there in her tiny silk gown, legs bent upwards with a book resting on them. Her gown had slipped up, revealing the small lacy white panties she wore. It was also slightly parted at her chest, revealing an amazing amount of breast.
I chuckled inwardly, turning back again to grab my clothes. I got changed, ignoring the sound of the pages in the book rustling as she leafed through it, closing it with a snap and placing it on the bed-side table. I watched as she rolled over gracefully, facing me as she lay on her stomach, purposely showing more cleavage than necessary.
"Coming to bed, Barton?" she purred, kicking her legs lazily in the air, hitching her gown higher up her ass. I turned, smiling as I bought out a bottle of Vodka, watching her eyes widen with interest.
"Sure." I plopped on the bed beside where she lay, opening the bottle and taking a swig of the burning alcohol. She reached out, taking it from my hand and tipping the contents down her throat, swallowing easy.
We did that for a while, taking turns in drinking from the bottle, until there was only one mouthful left. She giggled, reaching for the bottle, but I yanked it out of the way before she got it, causing her face to collapse near my semi-hardness. I gasped slightly, and she looked up at me, a glint in her eye as she changed positions, crawling on all fours and straddling my lap.
Her face lingered close to mine, brushing her lips against my own as she sneakily pried the bottle from my hand, finished the rest of the contents before throwing the bottle to the ground.
"You knew vodka was my favourite, didn't you?" she whispered, grazing my ear with her teeth.
"Thought it was a nice treat." I whispered back, cupping her hips with my hands. She ground into me, giggling lightly as I kissed trails from her jaw to her neck and back again.
"It was very…nice."
We sat like this for a while, me planting a trail of kisses along her skin and she continued to grind against me. Soon, though, she pushed me down so I was laying on my back, and she ran her hands up and down my bare abbs before slamming her lips to mine.
It was an intense kiss, slightly sloppy, but still good as she forced her tongue into my mouth and shoved it half way down my throat, a moan, which sounded unlike my own, escaping. She bucked her hips against mine, breathing heavy.
I flipped us over so I was on top of her, supporting my weight as not to crush her little body. She opened her legs, letting me slide easily between them. I broke the kiss, pulling away, and she let out a small hiss, eyes annoyed.
I smirked, pulling her silky gown over her shoulders slowly, eyes never leaving hers as I untied the sash from around her waist, letting the silk flow off her body in a wave of gold. She wore nothing underneath, just her lacy white panties, and she propped herself on her elbows, giving me a full look at her breasts.
She raised an eyebrow, but soon closed her eyes as my hands moved to her chest, grasping at the large breasts, which were warm in my palm. She slowly threw her head back, a small moan escaping her lips as I took one hard nipple in my mouth, sucking and flicking it teasingly.
Once again, her hips bucked, and I smiled down at her, pulling away from her breast, letting my hands travel down the plane of her abbs and to the waistband of her panties. She glanced down at me, eyes shining with lust, as I pulled the edge away from between her legs.
She was wet, soaking wet, her pink slit glistening in the light as I ran my fingers lightly across the sensitive flesh. She gasped, body jolting slightly at the unexpected touch, and I chuckled, digging my fingers into the heated flesh. She moaned loudly, and I added a second, then a third finger into her, pumping in and out and wiggling them back and forth in a 'come hither' motion.
She dug her nails into my shoulders, and I could feel the trickle of blood, but ignored it. I worked her to her finishing point, her insides clenching and unclenching around my fingers as she came, screaming curses in Russian as her body jolted underneath my own.
"Clint…" she whispered, clutching me to her body as she lay under me limply, trying to even out her breathing.
I woke with a start, body flushing with heat. Was that a dream?
I sat up, eyes roaming over the carpet. There was no empty vodka bottle where it should have been thrown.
I sighed. It was just a dream.
I laid back down, kicking the blankets off, too hot to keep them on. I tried to even out my breathing, closing my eyes only to see the images of Natasha laying underneath me with my fingers doing their work. Her screams echoed through my head, and I scrunched my eyes together, pushing my palms onto them as if to push the images out, no matter how much I liked them. I let out a growl of frustration.
"Something wrong, Barton?"
My head snapped to the left, only to see Natasha clutching the blanket to her chest, laying on her side and staring up at me. It was dull in the room, hardly morning yet, and I could see her eyes sparkling with confusion.
"Just a… bad dream." I breathed, looking away from her. She scooted closer to me anyway, resting her head on my bicep.
"Well, from the sounds of it, it didn't seem like a bad dream." She murmured, staring up at the roof. I raised my eyebrow.
"What do you…?"
"You talk in your sleep, Barton." She stated, shrugging her shoulders and turning to look at me, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.
"What was I saying?" I felt my face drain of blood. She cannot know what I dreamt about.
"You were just moaning my name, talking about something being wet…" she wandered off, raising her own eyebrow this time.
"It was nothing." I quickly stuttered, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks and being thankful that she couldn't see much in this light. She tried to suppress a giggle, and I tried to roll over, but she held me down.
"Hey, don't be embarrassed. It's not like I haven't fantasized about you before either." She said casually, looking back at the roof in remembrance.
I cocked my head to the side.
"I wasn't fantasizing, it was actually me doing stuff to you and we… wait, did you just saying you've fantasized about me?"
She chuckled slyly, still staring at the roof.
"It's been a very long time since I have received pleasure from a man. A woman has to do what a woman has to do."
"How long has it been?" I asked suddenly. She turned to look at me then, eyes wary.
"You tell me first." She decided after a moments silence. I widened my eyes, rolling over to face her properly.
"Will you tell me if I do?"
"Of course."
I sighed, trying to think back to the last time I had actually engaged in sexual activity with a woman.
"Ahh, I'd say eleven months ago. Almost a year."
Hey eyes nearly popped out of her head in bewilderment, and once again I could feel myself blushing.
"Who was it?" she asked suddenly, her voice cold.
I frowned, considering telling her the truth, and I knew she'd kill me if she found out I was lying, so the truth it is.
"Well, you know Sharon Carter…"
"Her?!"
She basically leapt out of bed in shock.
"What?"
"You had sex with that blonde haired mole before you had sex with me?" she nearly shrieked. I started laughing, getting louder and louder, and I knew I was in danger.
"Your turn to tell me" I muttered, trying to suppress my chuckles. She sighed, climbing back into the bed. I knew this wasn't the last of it.
"Well, the last time would have to be around four to six months ago." She admitted shyly. I raised an eyebrow.
"You're lying." I decided. The Black Widow wouldn't go that long without some sort of intimacy with a man.
"Nope, all truth."
"Who was it?"
She hesitated before answering.
"Well, you know when I had to go on that mission to become Tony's assistance at Stark Industries?"
"You've got to be kidding." It was my turn to be shocked now.
"No, no, no! I didn't sleep with Stark, you idiot. He had a few good looking clients, and I gave one of them a night they wouldn't forget." She smiled to herself.
"Did you enjoy it?" I asked after a while. She shook her head.
"To be honest, I tried imagining him being you, but he wasn't good enough for that." She sighed, resting her head back onto my bicep.
"How would you know how good I am in bed?" I asked suddenly, smiling. She turned to look at me, eyes serious.
"I can tell just by the way your body is built that you would be one hell of a lay." She declared, laughing lightly.
"Should we find out?" I leaned up, brushing my lips against hers before she pulled away.
"Well, your only options would be to tell me about you and Sharon, or go to sleep unless you want broken fingers." She threatened easily.
I thought back to my dream, and then realized that I liked my fingers for other purposes other than archery, and I sighed, getting comfortable.
"Night, Nat."
"Goodnight."
Just a funny little chapter I thought I'd put in, before things got too serious. REVIEW!