Got a bit of anxiety going on over this one ... wanted to do this justice but it's had my head battered and I'm not sure how it's turned out. Little bit smuttier than what is already out there but I did hold back a little. I'd love to know what you think. ** If you don't like sex scenes don't read.**
"Aren't we meant to be hunting?" she murmured between kisses, amusement in her voice.
Smiling against her mouth, Barton let his hands trail up the length of her arms, fingertips brushing the soft fabric of the flannel shirt she was wearing. The shirt was his and too big for her, the neckline open to show just a glimpse of the black bra that she wore beneath it. His hands were responsible for the opening of some of those buttons, spurred on by Natasha's legs wrapping around his waist and pinning him in place against her. The movement of her tongue against his own was all the distraction he had needed to ensure that they never made it further than the foot of the porch steps. "Oh I am," he murmured.
It wasn't their first kiss. In recent days there had been probably a hundred kisses at least, some tender and gentle others that left them both aching and breathless, but they hadn't let things get much further than that, not while she was still healing. They'd agreed to take things slowly but it was proving more difficult than he had ever imagined. Spending every night so close together that they shared every breath and knowing that what was unfolding between them was mutual and not just a one way desire made it hard for his to keep his hands off her.
"Looks like you caught me," she whispered, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth, arms winding around his neck. He could feel the strength in her body, knew the thrill of feeling those death grip thighs around his waist as well as the satisfaction of knowing that he was the reason for the slight flush on her skin. She arched her body between his own and the support post at her back, pressing herself against him in all the right places. "So what now?"
He had a hundred potential answers for her, all of which ended in her body pressed beneath his own and the nearest flat surface but he wanted to do things properly. "Light's failing, we should probably delay this trip until sunrise ..."
"Uh huh," her response was a husky murmur, breathed directly into his mouth and he knew that this kiss was different to the ones that had come before it. Were they really ready for where they were headed? There would be no taking it back once it was done, their lives as they had known them forever altered. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin their friendship, their partnership, by thinking with his dick.
"You trust me, right Nat?" he asked, tracing his lips along the line of her jaw to nibble at the sensitive spot beneath her ear that he had discovered the night before.
"With my life," she answered, no thought, no hesitation. Awed by the trust that she placed in him, he lifted her up, balancing her weight easily in his arms and carried her back up the steps and into the cabin, heading straight for the bedroom. Long suppressed heat coiled deep in his stomach, temperature rising, skin hypersensitive to every movement of her body beneath his own, as he pressed her down on the mattress of what he was rapidly coming to think of as their bed.
Mouths fusing in a kiss that seared his nerve endings, they pulled at buttons and zips and fastenings. Barton moved slowly, harnessing the impatience which suddenly took hold of him, savouring the moment as he revealed inch after inch of her skin. She wasn't passive, far from it, the movement of her body was pushing him past the point of reason, past the point of thinking. The knowledge froze him, stilling the movement of his hands. He tensed, trying to force back the chemical surge of desire that thundered through his veins and muscles, primitive instinct demanding that he lay claim to the woman in front of him.
Beneath him she froze, drawing the wrong conclusion from his sudden stillness. He cursed himself inwardly as the light in her eyes dimmed and for putting anything approaching doubt in her head when they stood on the precipice of something that they both wanted.
"Nat ... just look at me for a moment, yeah?" even to his own ears his voice was breathless. She did as he asked, pulling back to lay her head on the covers. Their gazes locked, grey and green, darkened by lust and need. "Just want to know that you want this?"
A smile flickered across her lips and she raised a hand to place her palm over his heart. The effect of her touch was instantaneous, five points of fire that burned through him, washing away all doubts about what she wanted. Her hand trailed lower, tracing the muscles of his stomach and travelling lower still until she found what she was looking for, curling her fingers around him and squeezing him gently.
Natasha leaned up and kissed him again, a kiss unlike any of the others that they had shared and yet familiar enough that he knew that what she was giving him was the very essence of herself. Soft and tender, ferocious and desperate all at the same time, all aspects of her personality rolled into the press of her mouth against his own. She kissed him with a desperation that stole his breath and he kissed her back driven by exactly the same need.
Shutting down the voice of reason in his head, he concentrated on the woman in his bed. Tracking the spill of her hair across the pillow and the movement of her fingers as she explored him, he grew acquainted with her body, learning every dip and curve, teasing her and showing her what she meant to him with every brush of his tongue and fingers. Purposefully she shifted against him, raising her hips just a little, just enough, and Barton caught fire. Desire coursed through him, an inferno that answered her call as she writhed under him.
He knew that he was lost to her when she arched her body against his, her pelvic muscles clenching and releasing as he slid into position above her. Her eyes dilated as she watched him move closer. She let out a breathy sigh. It was exactly the kind of sound that he had never expected to hear escape from a woman like Natasha and he knew that the sight of her biting down on her kiss-swollen lips was one that he would not forget. Wrapping a leg around him, she pulled him to where she wanted him, eyes both lusty and defiant when she looked up at him.
Their bodies were like puzzle pieces, fitting together perfectly, easily, like they were made to be together; his chest against her breasts, shoulders wide over hers as he lifted her gently, angling her body just how he wanted it so that he could slip slowly and easily inside her. Engulfed by the heat of her, he felt her grip tighten on his forearms, both of them shuddering at the contact. He heard her sharp inhalation as he entered her, saw her eyes close, swallowed back a groan of his own as she gripped him, hot and wet and perfect. He paused, giving them both a chance to adjust.
Natasha's eyes opened and she looked up at him, eyes glazed with desire, dark and filled with a need that bordered on starvation. "I've been waiting a long time for you to do that," she murmured, and then she rolled her hips in a way that drew a moan from them both. Breathing hard they stared at one another. No going back now.
She drew his head down to her own, opening her mouth to him, tongues dancing with one another, so hot, so alive. With a hand at his lower back she urged him in tight against her, arching against him, taking him in and opening for him, tilting her pelvis and inviting him deeper. Bodies working with and against one another, they became a single entity driven by instinct and desire, each of them finding a rhythm that came as easily to them as breathing. Her hands were all over him, pulling him so close that even the air couldn't get between them, wrapping herself around him until he no longer knew where she ended and he began.
Gathering her in his arms, he rose to his knees, supporting her weight as he resettled with his back to the mattress, concerned about his weight on top of her with that surgery scar. She planted her hands on his pecs, bending low to kiss him, hair falling in a soft curtain around them, as she found her rhythm. Absorbing the weight of her over him, the sensations of her body moving around his as he moved with her, he wondered why he had ever fought against this joining between them, the extension of partnership into a melding of flesh and blood, body and soul.
Arching up against her, feeding his length to her, he squeezed his eyes shut to savour the sensations. Every breath, every thrust, drew them closer to the inevitable. The bed danced beneath them as she met each of his movements, her hips rolling on the base of her spine as her cries grow louder and more urgent. Head kicking back on the pillows, he watched the sway of her breasts as she rode him, head tilted back, skin glowing in the dying light that entered the room. Grabbing her hips, he guided her movement, feeling the crush of her muscles and the urgency of her movement . Falling over him, she shared her growing desperation in the scrape of her nails and the way that she bit his lip, hands grabbing his hair and guiding him to where she wanted him most.
Amid hungry kisses and hungrier sounds, he rolled them over, pinning her beneath him and driving her into the mattress with every thrust of his hips. The trade of dominance was fluid and rather than fighting against it she melted beneath him, clenching her thighs hard against his hips, wrapping her legs around his. She cried out, biting down on his shoulder as she broke apart beneath him, body surging in time with his own as her internal muscles clamped down on him in waves. He knew that he was close, so close, her cries and the rhythm of her body pulling him in and making his blood boil. The feel of her teeth in his skin sent him over the edge. The orgasm tackled him from behind, muscles tight as steel, thrusts becoming erratic, and he rode the waves, prolonging the moment before he collapsed onto her shoulder.
He kissed her softly, tenderly, giving them both time to catch their breath. He wanted to ask her if she was okay but it just seemed too clichéd so he asked her without words, letting his kisses speak for him. She answered the same way, whimpering at the loss as he carefully moved off her and settled at her side. When she turned her face to his there was a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes that told him everything he needed to know. "Will all of our hunting trips end like this?" she asked breathlessly.
He chuckled, running his fingertips over the soft skin of her clavicle and delighting in the shiver that his touch caused. "Distinct possibility ..."
Her laughter filled the room as she tucked herself in against him, getting as close as she could without being on top of him. She nibbled at his chin, working her way up to his lips and pressed a searing kiss to his mouth. "Good," she murmured.
He'd been right, nothing would ever be the same again, but it seemed that they were both perfectly okay with that.