Chapter 35.
There was a discreet ping and JARVIS said politely, "The elevator is at your floor, Mr Barton."
"Oh," Clint lifted his head and grinned. "Thanks, J."
"At your service as always," JARVIS responded, and Clint grinned at the faint hint of sarcasm, stooping to pick up Jemma's bag and leading her towards his bedroom.
"You hungry?" he thought to ask Jemma.
"Yes," she said, and then laughed at the faint disappointment he tried quickly to hide. "But not for food, yet." He looked far too delicious for that, dressed in a pale grey long-sleeved T-shirt and his ubiquitous black cargo pants. The shirt was tight enough to define his chest and shoulder muscles beautifully, and the pale grey colour lightened his eyes to almost sky-blue.
"Oh, good." His wicked smile reappeared. "In that case, Doctor Simmons, come here." He pulled her into his arms, bending his head to capture her lips again. Jemma reached up eagerly. Clint kissed unbelievably well, his lips warm and soft, his tongue not intrusive but playing a gentle, teasing game with hers that always ended with her pressing herself against him, frantic for more. She scrabbled to pull off his T-shirt and he broke the kiss to let her, pulling off the thin sweater she was wearing immediately afterwards and then stopping to stare.
"Like it?" Jemma spread her arms a little shyly.
"Wow," was all Clint said as he admired with his eyes the stunning bra she was wearing. A deep royal blue, it contrasted beautifully with her milky skin, silk and lace emphasizing every delicate curve.
"Most of my stuff got left behind in London so I had to go shopping…"
"You look fucking fantastic," he muttered gruffly, lifting his finger to trace delicately over the swell of her breast above the lace. "Like everything I've been dreaming of for the past few days."
Jemma didn't ask. The shadows in his eyes told her that whatever had been happening, it hadn't been easy. Instead she reached up to wind her arms around his neck. "I'm not a dream," she said softly, "I'm real, right here and now, and I want you to take me to bed and screw me until I'm screaming your name."
Clint grinned, put a hand behind her knees and scooped her off her feet easily. "I absolutely adore," he said, carrying her to bed, "the fact that you dress so conservatively, act so demure and sweet – and it's only me who knows that underneath, you like silk and lace against your skin."
"And you," Jemma said, working at his belt as he knelt over her on the bed. "I like you against my skin."
"Yeah? How do you like me best?" he asked, and she looked up at him, knowing he was asking her what she wanted him to do.
"Hard," she said softly. A week without him, and the mere sight of him shirtless had her frantic, desperate to feel him inside her again. "A little bit rough, maybe…"
Clint smiled hungrily. "Oh, that sounds real good to me, sweetheart." His hands caught hers and lifted them over her head. "Hold onto the headboard."
Jemma obeyed as Clint removed the rest of her clothes, pausing to teasingly run his fingers around her areolae, not quite touching her nipples. He looked a little regretful as he stripped the pretty bra and panties from her. "Will you wear these again for me later? Just these?"
"I bought other sets too," Jemma grinned cheekily at him. "I'll model them for you."
"You might have to tie me to the bed or some of them might get damaged."
Her pupils blew wide with lust as she thought about having Clint tied down and at her mercy. He didn't miss the change in her breathing and grinned to himself. Well, that could wait for later. Frankly, he was too damn desperate to be inside her, to sheathe his aching cock in her wet heat, hear her sweet cries as they both took their pleasure. He lost focus, sitting back on his heels and sliding his fingers into her slick folds, yanking the remainder of his own clothes off with his free hand.
"You're dripping for me, you dirty girl," he murmured. "Been thinking about me?"
"Always," Jemma gasped as he pinched her clit suddenly. Her hips jerked upwards sharply. "Aaaah!" He pinched again lightly, eyes glittering.
"Something you want, love?"
"Please," she begged shamelessly, knowing how much Clint loved it when she did. "I want you. I need to feel you inside me. Please, please – put that beautiful thick cock in me and fuck me hard." The words sounded utterly filthy in her precise English accent, even though her voice was softer and breathier than usual.
He let out a hungry growl, and then, unable to wait any longer, eased over her, supporting herself on his arms, pausing for a taste of her nipples before he guided the head of his almost-painful arousal against her. Jemma wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into his ass, trying to pull him in harder.
"Easy," Clint muttered, "not too fast, love, don't want to hurt you… nnngghhh," he let out an incoherent sound as Jemma clenched her thigh muscles hard and jerked herself up along his length. "Oh, Christ." She was so tight, a slick hot clamp along the whole length of his cock as he bottomed out inside her. "Jemmaaaahh!"
"Clint, now, harder," she demanded, letting go of the headboard and clutching at him demandingly, digging her nails into his biceps.
"Gonna come too fast, hold on," he could already feel it starting, feel his balls pulling up to his body. "Need to wait for you…"
"No!" she shouted at him, and he suddenly realised that she felt so tight because her vaginal muscles were starting to clench. She was already right on the verge of climax herself, even though he'd barely warmed her up.
"Fuck," he muttered hoarsely, "what did you do, grind yourself against the seat all the way here?"
"No," Jemma moaned, "didn't need to – just thinking about you – oh, yes, Clint, please, like that, ohhhh..."
He slammed hard against her, using the powerful muscles of his back and thighs to power his thrusts, making it as fast and rough as she wanted. Her cries increased in pitch and tempo as he moved, creating an erotic counterpoint to their lovemaking. Heat prickled down his spine and he sped up again, feeling Jemma start to come apart around him, her walls suddenly spasming on his cock, milking him hard until he came with a roar, his back bowing as he shot his load deep into her receptive body.
Clint collapsed down onto Jemma, kissing her long and slow, enjoying just making out with her. She wound her arms around his neck, kissing him back, sighing into his mouth as he caressed her hair and cheek with one hand. For long moments they clung together, still joined, and then Clint sighed and eased back as he felt himself start to soften and slip from Jemma.
"Barely a week and I was going insane without you," he said quietly, lying down beside her and stroking her stomach gently as she sighed and went limp. "You're right in here, beautiful girl," he tapped his fingers on his chest. "Feel like I can't breathe without you close."
Jemma stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, and then her lips curved up in a shy smile. "I love you too," she said softly.
Clint blinked. "That's what I was saying, wasn't it?" he said to himself, almost wonderingly. "Yes, I love you, Jemma Simmons. I love you so fucking much I don't even know how to start saying it."
Jemma smiled, burying her face in his chest, hugging him close. "Oh, I don't know. I think you're doing a pretty good job."
He curved a hand around the back of her neck, threading his fingers into the softness of her hair, holding her close. "Please don't leave me."
"Leave you!" startled, she jerked back, staring at him. "Why would you think I'd leave you?"
He looked away, and she saw for the first time just how insecure and vulnerable he felt where she was concerned. "I'm just a sniper. What S.H.I.E.L.D. always euphemistically called a wetworks specialist, when they really meant assassin. You – you're brilliant, beautiful, young. You could have any man you wanted."
"Shut. Up." Jemma poked him hard in the chest. "I am not going to listen to you putting the man I love down like that!"
Clint blinked. She leaned in closer, staring him hard in the eyes.
"You," Jemma said passionately, "are a hero. An Avenger, one of Earth's mightiest heroes, and you're a man with a bow. Not serum-enhanced, not a demigod, not equipped with wings or a flying armoured tank. The other Avengers accept you as an equal. Have you no idea how special that makes you? I'm just a scientist. Yes, I'm brilliant, I know that and I'm not going to be falsely immodest about it, but if I vanished tomorrow, I could be replaced, easy enough. You – Hawkeye – couldn't. The world needs you, needs to see that one man can rise above terrible beginnings and become, through blood and sweat and sheer guts, something so special…" she choked up, and he pulled her close, kissing her tenderly, deeply moved by her impassioned defence of him.
"Shh," he whispered, stroking her hair. "Shh. I love you. I love you so much it hurts and I'm just so scared that you're gonna see right through this tough-guy façade and find the scared kid who's just faking it to get by."
"Don't you know we all feel like that sometimes?" Jemma laughed through her tears, pressing kisses against the hard line of his jaw. "I see you, Clint. I see who you really are, the man who won't let injustice pass by. Who picks up his bow and goes out, again and again, to fight for what he believes in. The man I'm in love with."
"The selfish bastard who's gonna keep you," he said a bit roughly. "I'd never keep you from your work, it's your calling as much as being Hawkeye is mine, but so help me God, if another man so much as looks at you too long…"
Jemma decided she was definitely not going to tell him how flirty Lance Hunter had been with her all this week. She suspected Hunter was just doing it to make Bobbi jealous anyway. "I don't care about other men," deliberately, she rotated her hips against his groin, feeling him begin to harden again almost immediately. "There's only one man I want, and he's right here, and about to make love to me again with all of his very considerable skill."
Clint smiled, cupping her ass in his hands and pulling her more firmly against him, grinding his rising cock against her stomach lightly. "Yes, ma'am."
Wow, that went from smut to angst fast, didn't it? Poor Clint. He's still pretty broken and insecure. But Jemma sees him for who he really is and loves him anyway. Smart girl.
Right, well, we can leave these two happily going at it like bunnies and head off to find out what Skye has been up to, hmm? Find out whether Steve's managed to stick one of those massive feet in his mouth again…