Natasha just stilled as she listened, more than a little aware right in that moment that yes indeed she was positioned rather neatly between his thighs and yes, Captain America had just moaned.
She tried to look at him, but the insistent issue of his apparently three days erection was right there and for a moment she thought she'd seen it twitch. "'Common-thread bound'," she repeated with an arch of her eyebrow. "A woman you're married to?"
But she rocked back on her heels and put just a little distance between herself and the Captain's penis. Just enough to let her think. "So if you have to satisfy a woman, I'm assuming a handjob is out of the question. It's going to have to be actual sex."
Not that she was volunteering herself just yet, but she still felt a little cruel leaving Steve with blue balls of all people. Stark she didn't have issue with. He could stand to get blue balls once in a while to humble the billionaire. "And I'm sure Tony will be heartbroken to hear he can't help you out."
She smiled briefly before her tongue ran over her lips and she inched forward once more to get the last of the chains off. "I'm also a little hesitant to leave you moaning at any touch you get. It's hardly going to help in the field, or at the tower. I'm not a complete bitch."
Not that she really knew what she was saying either. Was she volunteering? If it had to be through marriage, that wasn't about to happen any time soon. She wasn't going to get wed on an alien planet for the sake of Steve's erection. Her gaze dipped again though as the last of the chains fell and she sighed. "It's entirely insane."
I shall. With Steve's porn-star au icons and everything.buy_war_bondsAugust 23 2012, 22:22:58 UTC
"I don't -- think it has to be that." Just a bit of space, and it's both good and bad; good because he can breathe again now that the threat of her hair brushing against his skin is removed, and bad because it had been something to focus on. Something to pin his attention to, and now it's gone. "Cause she was going to -- to 'test the fruitfulness of our union' before making it official." He scowls a bit, extra irritated by that. Though he'd be irritated about damn near anything right now, with the state he's in. "So I'm guessing it's just some kind of promise or common bond, that sort of thing." He laughs wildly again, the scowl falling away as he thinks about his situation and makes a command decision to do his best to laugh about it instead of cry. "Tony's -- pardon the langauge -- a fucking asshole. Didn't you hear him laughing as he left here after that crazy woman? Cause I sure did."
Tony. Steve's gonna fix him later. Seventy-two hours later, give or take a couple of minutes.
"I feel like the heroine in one of those horrible bodice-rippers," Steve says as she leans in again, his heart pounding with even that much increased nearness. "Saved from an unwanted ravishing just in the nick of time by my dashing leading lady. In a way it's kind of progressive, don't you think?" He's babbling, but what's he supposed to do? Every last nerve ending in his dick had gone into total overload at the way her pretty pink tongue had darted out to taste her lips and -- and oh god, this wasn't funny at all, was it? Not even a little bit. For a moment he thought of Natasha in motion, with the move she did, that really slick move to take down men much taller than her by the neck with her thighs --
"No," Steve breathes, his voice thick and rough and he looks down at her. "No, you're not that at all."
The weight of the chains, once hated, has started to become something he likes, and he's sad in a way as thy fall away from him. They'd been some kind of contact on his overheated skin, something, and he leans back against the pillar almost in self-defense, eyes closing for a moment.
It's more than a little unsettling to realize that he's rubbing up against it a bit, biting his lip to stop from groaning at the sensation. He opens his eyes, looking up at her with an expression that's half lost-puppy, half smoldering desire. "You're telling me."
porn-star au icons ftw, just sayin'redinmyledgerAugust 24 2012, 06:23:57 UTC
Natasha's eyebrows had to go up as Steve called Tony 'a fucking asshole'. She might have expected it from Barton, but not Steve. It was refreshing really to know the Captain could hate Stark as much as the rest of them. It was also nice to know the man wasn't quite as squeaky clean. It took a little pressure of her.
"I did, yes. I was planning on making him suffer for it when we were free of here. It's not like he doesn't already have issues with me. What's one more? I think he could have handled this with a lot more... subtlety." But there was nothing subtle about the erection still drawing her focus as hard as she tried not to look.
Or the fact that Steve was definitely starting to rub up against the pillar. Natasha cleared her throat and averted her gaze for a moment before she looked back at him and stepped back in close. "So I'm dashing, am I? And not a bitch... And a woman with whom you could... If it's going to relieve some of the pressure."
She still wasn't entirely sure if this was the right thing to do, but she did feel sorry for him. And there was an attraction there. There always had been under the surface. She just hadn't planned on acting on it any time soon.
After all, the team was still getting used to each other and he was technically the leader. But another step in closer and her suit was pressing in against his skin as she stretched up to pull him down into a kiss. "We don't breathe a word of this to anyone."
oh my god, birthdays and weddings, weekend survived <333buy_war_bondsAugust 27 2012, 05:01:00 UTC
It does Steve's peace of mind -- what's left of it, at any rate -- a lot of good to hear that Natasha's on the case of making Tony pay for that irritating little spurt of laughter he'd indulged in before zooming off after Steve's would-be-bride. Steve doesn't like to get into serious profanity in front of ladies, even deadly ones like her, but sometimes you've got bend a few of your rules. And if this wasn't a situation for some serious cursing, he didn't know what would be.
"Very dashing." She moves in closer, and when she does, his whole world fills with the infinite possibilities implied in her words. Never in his life have they been so bright and so vivid, and he whimpers eve before she eases up next to him, her body molding to his in a way that sends a battalion of sensations screaming along every nerve. The leather of her catsuit -- a uniform which he'd found surprisingly practical when watching her in a fight, in addition to being highly easy-on-eyes -- was soft, softer than he'd expected, but with little seams and ridges that sang to his skin in really amazing ways.
His hands are moving of their own accord, finding a home on her lower back, and he's grateful as hell for the pillar behind him, leaning back and letting it support him as he pulls her closer. His legs are parted, and as his lips meet hers and something he can only quantify as electric shocks rocket straight down to his gut, he pulls her even closer.
"You don't -- you don't have to, to do this," Steve pants in between kisses, rubbing against her like a cat, his body moving on instinct to try to get some relief from the ache spreading from his groin through the rest of his body like cruelly hungry tongues of flame from a wildfire. He's trying to do the right thing, as best as he knows how, although it's killing him to get the words out, when his mouth knows better than his mind and is doing all it can to keep kissing her. "Cause it's, it's --"
His hands are moving, sliding down that smooth black leather, down over the curve of her ass, and for a moment his words are lost as his hands take in the marvel that they've found, caressing and exploring by turns. He gets his mind, if not his hands, under his nominal control, and tries again; the words are still all but moaned against her lips. "Cause I've never before, and you -- you shouldn't have to if you don't, if it's -- fuck." Steve loses it, that train of thought, as his hands give her ass a good squeeze, holding her hips still for one long moment as he rocks forward against her.
woo for coming out alive <333redinmyledgerAugust 27 2012, 06:52:00 UTC
Natasha was not the one you wanted on such a case if you were the perpetrator. Steve wasn't though, he was safe and free to watch from the gallows once she did get her revenge on Stark. But it was slowly slipping far from her mind as Steve fixed that mixture of puppy lust on her and she felt those strong hands cup her backside. She really could do worse. She could be back in the hands of the Russians and acting like seducing fat generals was her favourite pastime.
Natasha took off her gloves without breaking the kiss and dropped them to the ground before her palms rested on his shoulders and she rose up to kiss him further. Her breasts flush against his chest and she could feel the warmth of his body burning through the leather to cause her own skin to flush. A hand shifted to the side of his neck and as Steve was trying to be nice, and sincere and tell her she didn't have to do this, Natasha was already using her free hand to tug down the zipper of her uniform before moving in to kiss him again.
She feels dwarfed by him though it's in no way making her feel inferior. He's always been good like that. He was an excellent soldier and leader and knew how to use Natasha to her strengths. Even knew how to spar with her so that she didn't wind up flattened by his super powers. "The way I figure it," she murmured as she moved back once more to pull her uniform down off her shoulders and tug her arms free until the catsuit sat on her hips and she had even done away with her bra, "is that you must have a hell of a refractory period so even if the first time isn't so grand, I'm going to have you well-trained by the end of the third day. Any women that follow will be thanking me."
Natasha smiled a little, half in teasing and half in real pleasure. She did want to do this for him. Even perhaps for herself. She pushed her bare breasts forward against his chest so that their bodies were flush once more and rubbed back against him as she let out a low moan at the feel of his erection pressing urgently against her stomach. "Steve--"
The kisses are broken once more as she tries to catch her breath with each increase of arousal and Natasha slid a hand between them to be so brazen as to wrap it around his length and start to pump. "Maybe you haven't had sex before, but surely you've discovered porn by now. Tony must have seen to it. You must have fantasies too... Tell me them. Tell me if there's something you want to try or do, or experience. One time offer, Steve. I'm at your mercy."
The feeling of her bare skin under his hands is the best thing he's ever experienced in his life. As she peels the tight black leather off her body, lets her bra slide down her arms forgotten on the floor, his hands roam her back, exploring and mapping out the curves and and softness of her skin. Soft, dear god in heaven her skin was so soft, silky even, and he thought he could die a happy man when she pressed up against him, her breasts against his chest glorious. Fucking actually glorious.
He wasn't an expert kisser. Wasn't even an experienced amateur. But he was doing his very best to learn on the fly, right here with her half naked and rubbing back up against him like she was actually enjoying herself, which in and of itself went a long way in soothing his worry that this was taking advantage somehow. He followed her lead, hoping he was acquitting himself well, marveling at the feel of her tongue against his as he did his best to kiss her well; his body ached at the feel of her soft, full lips on his own. And oh hell, when she moaned against his mouth as he rolled his hips against hers he felt like he'd found some new and urgently desperate plane of existence. One that just might kill him if he wasn't careful.
But what a way to do.
She pulls back from the kiss and he whimpers, the sound large in the echoing chamber, and he almost panicked at how desperate the lack of her kisses made him. But that panic was driven full from his body as her small, strong fingers circled his cock and began to stroke him. His eyes were huge, pupils blown, his mouth falling open in amazement at the feeling of someone else's hand, for the first time in his whole long life, moving along the length of him with expert touch. He almost doesn't hear her at first, lost in the sensation, tuning back in partway through, and he flushes with a combination of eagerness and embarrassment at her words. "My -- my fantasies?" His voice is rough and nearly hoarse, his gaze almost shocky, not sure what to do as his hips rock into her touch, and dear jesus god in heaven if her hand felt this good how would her mouth feel; how would it feel to bury himself inside her with those gorgeous and deadly legs wrapped around his body?
"I -- oh hell, I've got so many --" He laughs, shakily, his hands sliding up along her ribs to cup her breasts, and he licks his lip, swallowing hard as he cups them, sagging against the pillar as his hips jerk forward into her hand. The weight of her breasts in his palm is surprising, wonderfully so, and he strokes them with fingers that tremble at the impossibility of this whole situation. "You could -- maybe, that is, I don't want to, to presume or if it's weird --"
His thumbs brush against her nipples, loving the way they respond to his touch, and he focuses on them for a moment, leaning down quickly to kiss her neck; it's easier to speak to her skin, her hair gloriously close to his face, easier to ask her with her hand moving on him and his thumbs stroking her nipples if he can blush in private while he asks her. "I don't know what I'm doing, Tasha. Not at all." He's trailing kisses along her neck between his words, the taste of her skin exquisite. "But you could tell me what to do. How do to it. Train me up right" He moans against her ear, biting his lip at the thought of it. "Break -- break me in."
He really was holding up his own considering he'd never had sex. He wasn't the eager schoolboy or the completely blushing virgin. She didn't mind a little blushing, it was endearing and sweet. Nice to know she did still have that effect on a man. Not many tended to blush these days.
Her fingers curled around the back of his neck and she pressed her lips into his temple as the hand around his cock tightened its grip and pumped faster. Her laughter was soft and quiet as it escaped her mouth. She wasn't laughing at him. She was laughing with the delight that came with the idea of breaking him in. "That's a very dangerous prospect, Steve. I might ruin you for other women if I train you the way I'd want to train you."
She ducked, pressing a kiss to his lips again even as she moaned as those tendrils pulsed out from where he had been teasing her breasts, the pleasure snaking through her body and leaving her warm. "But you're doing wonderfully well so far, I can assure you. I like the feel of your hands. I like the size and weight of you in mine."
She sucked on his bottom lip before biting lightly and making him look at her, that steady of motion of her hand being kept up so that he knew she wasn't about to change her mind. "Swap our positions. Push me up against the pillar, wrap my legs around your waist. I promise if we make it through this, I will happily wrap my mouth around your cock. I will show you so many more pleasures, Steve."
How did anyone ever get anything done -- productive things, like filing and grocery shopping and going to the bank, taxes and prospecting for gold and advanced math -- when there was this that they could be doing instead? Faster now, her hand moving on him with more urgency, and he gives a low and throaty chuckle as his fingers move over her nipples, back and forth and back again, lost in the way they'd tightened under his touch, his own rhythm quickening to keep tempo with her wickedly skilled fingers moving on his length. "Not so much caring about that possibility, Tasha," he breathes, his left hand slowly sliding down over her smooth skin, marred here and there by thin lines of scars from past fights and battles, down to slip low over her hip, coasting eagerly over bare skin. They're beautiful under his touch, tiny little imperfections that add warmth to her perfect beauty.
"Train me how you -- how you want me." He licks his lips, tasting the words on his tongue as she moans, his mouth still moving against her neck, his whole body, his whole being, his damn soul on fire for her. "Teach me what you like. What's good."
He glows at her words, rocking into those warm, tight fingers, amazed and aroused even further at the way she talks about his size and weight in her hand, a little thrill at how dirty and beautiful it sounds running through him. When she kisses his he starts to kiss her back, thrown dizzy again when she instead grazes a bite on his lower lip, his eyes snapping open at that little mix of pain with the pleasure, pulse humming along at an incredible cip. "Oh -- Okay."
That's not so hard, right? This he can do; Steve Rogers can do this. He doesn't mean to be rough, but he is a little, turning them swiftly and sharply and pushing her back up against the pillar, his hands sliding between her thighs to hoist her up, stepping in between her legs as he traps her body between himself and the unrelenting marble. Lights, sirens, bells and whistles, the whole works are going off in his mind at that promise, at the promise to have her swallow him down deep and show him pleasures. Oh god does he want that.
He's rutting up against her, his head bent down low as he lets his mouth taste what his fingers had a moment before, slipping her nipple between his lips and sucking lightly at it, waiting for his next set of orders.
This was the reward. This was why people worked hard. Why they earned their right to spend time with the people they could play hard with. And Natasha was starting to become very, very attached to the idea of Captain America as a bed partner she could mould. His hands leave a burning trail in their wake, the warmth from his body easily transferring to hers. Her lips stayed parted as he teased her nipples, touched her hip and came dangerously close to touching her ass. She smiled a little at hearing him call her by the shortened form of her name. The affection clear even under the lust. "That makes two of us, Steve."
And then she really was gone. Her mind already filled with the images of what she'd teach him. Of how she'd break him in as hers. No other woman would touch him unless she wanted it. A fleeting thought along those lines entered her mind and she filed it away for later. First she wanted plenty of alone time with Steve.
Natasha's lips curved against his, his mouth already following her lead wonderfully. And she was enjoying his reactions. Enjoying the way he was responding to her. That she was the first one to enter this territory. To see Steve in this way and to give him such pleasure.
The rough she can handle. The rough she likes. She even moans louder as she's caught between his body and the pillar, as his hands grip that little bit too tightly and no doubt leave marks. "That's it, darling. Just like this." She pushed her left hand up into his hair, fingers gripping at the short strands as she kissed his temple in reward. "All the pleasures I can bring you are yours if you just keep following my directions."
But even his own initiative was good. She exhaled before a ripple went through her body and her body pulsed with an increased want as that warm, glorious mouth closed over her nipple. "Steve..." Her right hand dropped to her hip, taking his and pushing so that he'd get the message to slip it between her thighs. Time to teach Steve just a little foreplay before they really did get rough.
Steve's almost forgotten where he is, forgotten the fact that they were here because he'd been kidnapped by a child-hungry alien queen. And at this moment, if asked? He might even thank that creepy lady, because it's gotten him here -- pressed up against Tasha, naked and hard and eager to please in a way he'd never expected to find himself. He wants Tasha to tell him what to do, wants her to show him how to touch her, to encourage her with those moans and with those sweet words, those soft little kisses against his temple that tell him he's doing good. That he's making her feel good. And he wants that more than anything.
He's ready, willing, and eager for instruction, and beneath the roaring hunger screaming along every nerve there's enough wherewithal left to hope that this isn't a one time thing; to hope that he does good enough for her that she'll want to take him in hand again.
He's sucking at her nipple, teeth closed gently around it, glorying in the way he makes her respond, the way she seems to like it. Her skin tastes amazing on his tongue, the sensitive little bud perfect. Her hand's on his leg, and he follows her directions, reluctantly pulling back from her breast for a moment as he presses his bare thigh high between her legs, eyes locked on her face to watch her, to see what she wants, what she needs, where and how she wants him to touch her.
All the pleasures, he thinks, groaning a bit at the feeling of her strong thighs against his skin; this sure as hell's got to be one of them, watching her get hot and bothered because of him, because of something that he's doing, and yes. Anything, to see that look on her face. "Yes," he gasps, the hand on her hip closing further, losing a bit of a sense of his own strength in his focus on watching her. "Yes, Ma'am."
Oh, he is doing wonderfully well. A top student if ever she'd had one. So much potential in this man that had seemed so proper, so innocent. Though perhaps innocent was never the right word with Steve. He'd seen war. He'd seen the world crumble. But there was something untouched about him until now. Something so private and personal and special, but Natasha was bringing it out in him and she couldn't help but swell with pride at that fact. She was the one and only woman to have Steve Rogers.
She tilted her head, lips pressed against his ear as her low moans continued to urge him on. She had all the praise for her student. All the praise for his hands and mouth and yes, even his thigh.
She rubbed against it shamelessly, letting him feel just how aroused she was becoming. Letting him understand that the more he teased, the wetter she got. This was what he wanted for her. This was how he needed her.
"Soon, darling..." Her teeth caught his ear again and she gave it a sharp tug as his fingers pressed into her. Pain for pain, but it only sparked the pleasure centers for her. This was the kind of pain she enjoyed. She pulled his head back, mouth closing over his in a deep kiss as she coaxed his tongue to engage with hers. And still her hips rocked as she sought friction. "Unh--" A ripple rolled through her and she shuddered in his embrace. "--Take yourself in hand. I want you now."
It was -- amazing, the way her body was responding, as she ground against him, as she rocked her hips wanton and beautiful against his thigh, and those sharp bites of her teeth against his ear had him moaning again, rougher and darker still. A moment's beautiful, sharp pain, and then she was kissing him again, and he was kissing her back with an abandoned kind of need, glorying in the heat of her body, in the way she'd grown wet, in how good her hand felt in his hair as she pulled his head back for the kiss.
"Yes," he sighed, and while he continued to hold her easily with one hand, his strength making it nothing at all to support her between his body and the pillar without thought, he wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking himself once, twice, three times -- and then paused, looking up at her with wide, almost wild eyes. "I --"
Unsure, suddenly unsure and violently needy, he was at a momentary loss for what he should do.
Natasha saw the change in his face and cupped it between her hands before she kissed his forehead reassuringly. She wasn't going to let him lose his rhythm. She wouldn't leave him standing there lost. She would help him. Of course she would help him. It's what mentors did.
She leaned forward, her forehead resting against his shoulder as her hand slipped between them to cover his. She didn't rush this part. She didn't force him. She just took her time in guiding him towards her entrance. She let him feel her against the tip of cock. Let him understand that she would stretch as he pushed it.
Natasha lifted her head again to meet his gaze, her lips parted in a gasp. "Just like this, Steve. I'm going to let you go and I want you to thrust your hips forward. You're not going to hurt me. Push forward until you can't anymore."
She tried to look at him, but the insistent issue of his apparently three days erection was right there and for a moment she thought she'd seen it twitch. "'Common-thread bound'," she repeated with an arch of her eyebrow. "A woman you're married to?"
But she rocked back on her heels and put just a little distance between herself and the Captain's penis. Just enough to let her think. "So if you have to satisfy a woman, I'm assuming a handjob is out of the question. It's going to have to be actual sex."
Not that she was volunteering herself just yet, but she still felt a little cruel leaving Steve with blue balls of all people. Stark she didn't have issue with. He could stand to get blue balls once in a while to humble the billionaire. "And I'm sure Tony will be heartbroken to hear he can't help you out."
She smiled briefly before her tongue ran over her lips and she inched forward once more to get the last of the chains off. "I'm also a little hesitant to leave you moaning at any touch you get. It's hardly going to help in the field, or at the tower. I'm not a complete bitch."
Not that she really knew what she was saying either. Was she volunteering? If it had to be through marriage, that wasn't about to happen any time soon. She wasn't going to get wed on an alien planet for the sake of Steve's erection. Her gaze dipped again though as the last of the chains fell and she sighed. "It's entirely insane."
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Tony. Steve's gonna fix him later. Seventy-two hours later, give or take a couple of minutes.
"I feel like the heroine in one of those horrible bodice-rippers," Steve says as she leans in again, his heart pounding with even that much increased nearness. "Saved from an unwanted ravishing just in the nick of time by my dashing leading lady. In a way it's kind of progressive, don't you think?" He's babbling, but what's he supposed to do? Every last nerve ending in his dick had gone into total overload at the way her pretty pink tongue had darted out to taste her lips and -- and oh god, this wasn't funny at all, was it? Not even a little bit. For a moment he thought of Natasha in motion, with the move she did, that really slick move to take down men much taller than her by the neck with her thighs --
"No," Steve breathes, his voice thick and rough and he looks down at her. "No, you're not that at all."
The weight of the chains, once hated, has started to become something he likes, and he's sad in a way as thy fall away from him. They'd been some kind of contact on his overheated skin, something, and he leans back against the pillar almost in self-defense, eyes closing for a moment.
It's more than a little unsettling to realize that he's rubbing up against it a bit, biting his lip to stop from groaning at the sensation. He opens his eyes, looking up at her with an expression that's half lost-puppy, half smoldering desire. "You're telling me."
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"I did, yes. I was planning on making him suffer for it when we were free of here. It's not like he doesn't already have issues with me. What's one more? I think he could have handled this with a lot more... subtlety." But there was nothing subtle about the erection still drawing her focus as hard as she tried not to look.
Or the fact that Steve was definitely starting to rub up against the pillar. Natasha cleared her throat and averted her gaze for a moment before she looked back at him and stepped back in close. "So I'm dashing, am I? And not a bitch... And a woman with whom you could... If it's going to relieve some of the pressure."
She still wasn't entirely sure if this was the right thing to do, but she did feel sorry for him. And there was an attraction there. There always had been under the surface. She just hadn't planned on acting on it any time soon.
After all, the team was still getting used to each other and he was technically the leader. But another step in closer and her suit was pressing in against his skin as she stretched up to pull him down into a kiss. "We don't breathe a word of this to anyone."
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"Very dashing." She moves in closer, and when she does, his whole world fills with the infinite possibilities implied in her words. Never in his life have they been so bright and so vivid, and he whimpers eve before she eases up next to him, her body molding to his in a way that sends a battalion of sensations screaming along every nerve. The leather of her catsuit -- a uniform which he'd found surprisingly practical when watching her in a fight, in addition to being highly easy-on-eyes -- was soft, softer than he'd expected, but with little seams and ridges that sang to his skin in really amazing ways.
His hands are moving of their own accord, finding a home on her lower back, and he's grateful as hell for the pillar behind him, leaning back and letting it support him as he pulls her closer. His legs are parted, and as his lips meet hers and something he can only quantify as electric shocks rocket straight down to his gut, he pulls her even closer.
"You don't -- you don't have to, to do this," Steve pants in between kisses, rubbing against her like a cat, his body moving on instinct to try to get some relief from the ache spreading from his groin through the rest of his body like cruelly hungry tongues of flame from a wildfire. He's trying to do the right thing, as best as he knows how, although it's killing him to get the words out, when his mouth knows better than his mind and is doing all it can to keep kissing her. "Cause it's, it's --"
His hands are moving, sliding down that smooth black leather, down over the curve of her ass, and for a moment his words are lost as his hands take in the marvel that they've found, caressing and exploring by turns. He gets his mind, if not his hands, under his nominal control, and tries again; the words are still all but moaned against her lips. "Cause I've never before, and you -- you shouldn't have to if you don't, if it's -- fuck." Steve loses it, that train of thought, as his hands give her ass a good squeeze, holding her hips still for one long moment as he rocks forward against her.
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Natasha took off her gloves without breaking the kiss and dropped them to the ground before her palms rested on his shoulders and she rose up to kiss him further. Her breasts flush against his chest and she could feel the warmth of his body burning through the leather to cause her own skin to flush. A hand shifted to the side of his neck and as Steve was trying to be nice, and sincere and tell her she didn't have to do this, Natasha was already using her free hand to tug down the zipper of her uniform before moving in to kiss him again.
She feels dwarfed by him though it's in no way making her feel inferior. He's always been good like that. He was an excellent soldier and leader and knew how to use Natasha to her strengths. Even knew how to spar with her so that she didn't wind up flattened by his super powers. "The way I figure it," she murmured as she moved back once more to pull her uniform down off her shoulders and tug her arms free until the catsuit sat on her hips and she had even done away with her bra, "is that you must have a hell of a refractory period so even if the first time isn't so grand, I'm going to have you well-trained by the end of the third day. Any women that follow will be thanking me."
Natasha smiled a little, half in teasing and half in real pleasure. She did want to do this for him. Even perhaps for herself. She pushed her bare breasts forward against his chest so that their bodies were flush once more and rubbed back against him as she let out a low moan at the feel of his erection pressing urgently against her stomach. "Steve--"
The kisses are broken once more as she tries to catch her breath with each increase of arousal and Natasha slid a hand between them to be so brazen as to wrap it around his length and start to pump. "Maybe you haven't had sex before, but surely you've discovered porn by now. Tony must have seen to it. You must have fantasies too... Tell me them. Tell me if there's something you want to try or do, or experience. One time offer, Steve. I'm at your mercy."
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He wasn't an expert kisser. Wasn't even an experienced amateur. But he was doing his very best to learn on the fly, right here with her half naked and rubbing back up against him like she was actually enjoying herself, which in and of itself went a long way in soothing his worry that this was taking advantage somehow. He followed her lead, hoping he was acquitting himself well, marveling at the feel of her tongue against his as he did his best to kiss her well; his body ached at the feel of her soft, full lips on his own. And oh hell, when she moaned against his mouth as he rolled his hips against hers he felt like he'd found some new and urgently desperate plane of existence. One that just might kill him if he wasn't careful.
But what a way to do.
She pulls back from the kiss and he whimpers, the sound large in the echoing chamber, and he almost panicked at how desperate the lack of her kisses made him. But that panic was driven full from his body as her small, strong fingers circled his cock and began to stroke him. His eyes were huge, pupils blown, his mouth falling open in amazement at the feeling of someone else's hand, for the first time in his whole long life, moving along the length of him with expert touch. He almost doesn't hear her at first, lost in the sensation, tuning back in partway through, and he flushes with a combination of eagerness and embarrassment at her words. "My -- my fantasies?" His voice is rough and nearly hoarse, his gaze almost shocky, not sure what to do as his hips rock into her touch, and dear jesus god in heaven if her hand felt this good how would her mouth feel; how would it feel to bury himself inside her with those gorgeous and deadly legs wrapped around his body?
"I -- oh hell, I've got so many --" He laughs, shakily, his hands sliding up along her ribs to cup her breasts, and he licks his lip, swallowing hard as he cups them, sagging against the pillar as his hips jerk forward into her hand. The weight of her breasts in his palm is surprising, wonderfully so, and he strokes them with fingers that tremble at the impossibility of this whole situation. "You could -- maybe, that is, I don't want to, to presume or if it's weird --"
His thumbs brush against her nipples, loving the way they respond to his touch, and he focuses on them for a moment, leaning down quickly to kiss her neck; it's easier to speak to her skin, her hair gloriously close to his face, easier to ask her with her hand moving on him and his thumbs stroking her nipples if he can blush in private while he asks her. "I don't know what I'm doing, Tasha. Not at all." He's trailing kisses along her neck between his words, the taste of her skin exquisite. "But you could tell me what to do. How do to it. Train me up right" He moans against her ear, biting his lip at the thought of it. "Break -- break me in."
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Her fingers curled around the back of his neck and she pressed her lips into his temple as the hand around his cock tightened its grip and pumped faster. Her laughter was soft and quiet as it escaped her mouth. She wasn't laughing at him. She was laughing with the delight that came with the idea of breaking him in. "That's a very dangerous prospect, Steve. I might ruin you for other women if I train you the way I'd want to train you."
She ducked, pressing a kiss to his lips again even as she moaned as those tendrils pulsed out from where he had been teasing her breasts, the pleasure snaking through her body and leaving her warm. "But you're doing wonderfully well so far, I can assure you. I like the feel of your hands. I like the size and weight of you in mine."
She sucked on his bottom lip before biting lightly and making him look at her, that steady of motion of her hand being kept up so that he knew she wasn't about to change her mind. "Swap our positions. Push me up against the pillar, wrap my legs around your waist. I promise if we make it through this, I will happily wrap my mouth around your cock. I will show you so many more pleasures, Steve."
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"Train me how you -- how you want me." He licks his lips, tasting the words on his tongue as she moans, his mouth still moving against her neck, his whole body, his whole being, his damn soul on fire for her. "Teach me what you like. What's good."
He glows at her words, rocking into those warm, tight fingers, amazed and aroused even further at the way she talks about his size and weight in her hand, a little thrill at how dirty and beautiful it sounds running through him. When she kisses his he starts to kiss her back, thrown dizzy again when she instead grazes a bite on his lower lip, his eyes snapping open at that little mix of pain with the pleasure, pulse humming along at an incredible cip. "Oh -- Okay."
That's not so hard, right? This he can do; Steve Rogers can do this. He doesn't mean to be rough, but he is a little, turning them swiftly and sharply and pushing her back up against the pillar, his hands sliding between her thighs to hoist her up, stepping in between her legs as he traps her body between himself and the unrelenting marble. Lights, sirens, bells and whistles, the whole works are going off in his mind at that promise, at the promise to have her swallow him down deep and show him pleasures. Oh god does he want that.
He's rutting up against her, his head bent down low as he lets his mouth taste what his fingers had a moment before, slipping her nipple between his lips and sucking lightly at it, waiting for his next set of orders.
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And then she really was gone. Her mind already filled with the images of what she'd teach him. Of how she'd break him in as hers. No other woman would touch him unless she wanted it. A fleeting thought along those lines entered her mind and she filed it away for later. First she wanted plenty of alone time with Steve.
Natasha's lips curved against his, his mouth already following her lead wonderfully. And she was enjoying his reactions. Enjoying the way he was responding to her. That she was the first one to enter this territory. To see Steve in this way and to give him such pleasure.
The rough she can handle. The rough she likes. She even moans louder as she's caught between his body and the pillar, as his hands grip that little bit too tightly and no doubt leave marks. "That's it, darling. Just like this." She pushed her left hand up into his hair, fingers gripping at the short strands as she kissed his temple in reward. "All the pleasures I can bring you are yours if you just keep following my directions."
But even his own initiative was good. She exhaled before a ripple went through her body and her body pulsed with an increased want as that warm, glorious mouth closed over her nipple. "Steve..." Her right hand dropped to her hip, taking his and pushing so that he'd get the message to slip it between her thighs. Time to teach Steve just a little foreplay before they really did get rough.
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He's ready, willing, and eager for instruction, and beneath the roaring hunger screaming along every nerve there's enough wherewithal left to hope that this isn't a one time thing; to hope that he does good enough for her that she'll want to take him in hand again.
He's sucking at her nipple, teeth closed gently around it, glorying in the way he makes her respond, the way she seems to like it. Her skin tastes amazing on his tongue, the sensitive little bud perfect. Her hand's on his leg, and he follows her directions, reluctantly pulling back from her breast for a moment as he presses his bare thigh high between her legs, eyes locked on her face to watch her, to see what she wants, what she needs, where and how she wants him to touch her.
All the pleasures, he thinks, groaning a bit at the feeling of her strong thighs against his skin; this sure as hell's got to be one of them, watching her get hot and bothered because of him, because of something that he's doing, and yes. Anything, to see that look on her face. "Yes," he gasps, the hand on her hip closing further, losing a bit of a sense of his own strength in his focus on watching her. "Yes, Ma'am."
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She tilted her head, lips pressed against his ear as her low moans continued to urge him on. She had all the praise for her student. All the praise for his hands and mouth and yes, even his thigh.
She rubbed against it shamelessly, letting him feel just how aroused she was becoming. Letting him understand that the more he teased, the wetter she got. This was what he wanted for her. This was how he needed her.
"Soon, darling..." Her teeth caught his ear again and she gave it a sharp tug as his fingers pressed into her. Pain for pain, but it only sparked the pleasure centers for her. This was the kind of pain she enjoyed. She pulled his head back, mouth closing over his in a deep kiss as she coaxed his tongue to engage with hers. And still her hips rocked as she sought friction. "Unh--" A ripple rolled through her and she shuddered in his embrace. "--Take yourself in hand. I want you now."
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"Yes," he sighed, and while he continued to hold her easily with one hand, his strength making it nothing at all to support her between his body and the pillar without thought, he wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking himself once, twice, three times -- and then paused, looking up at her with wide, almost wild eyes. "I --"
Unsure, suddenly unsure and violently needy, he was at a momentary loss for what he should do.
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She leaned forward, her forehead resting against his shoulder as her hand slipped between them to cover his. She didn't rush this part. She didn't force him. She just took her time in guiding him towards her entrance. She let him feel her against the tip of cock. Let him understand that she would stretch as he pushed it.
Natasha lifted her head again to meet his gaze, her lips parted in a gasp. "Just like this, Steve. I'm going to let you go and I want you to thrust your hips forward. You're not going to hurt me. Push forward until you can't anymore."
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