undeadgirlwalking | [PSL] Ana and Hawkeye

Entry tags:

[ana&clint],
[psl]

[PSL] Ana and Hawkeye

Who: Ana Adams, Clint Barton (Hawkeye)
What: Some TLC post a rough night.
When: Post a mission that was rougher than it should've been.
Where: Ana's apartment above Adams' Books.

***

He said he was coming... And he was late. Anan didn't know nearly enough about Clint's life to know exactly where he was, but she'd observed enough to guess. He fought, he killed, undoubtably for an organisation that would rather stay secret. That was fine, she had secrets enough on her own.

He wouldn't be a part of it if he wasn't skilled... Didn't stop her from worrying. Nursing a cold drink in the kitchen, wearing little more than a shirt that he'd left behind, she restrained the urge to send a shade to look for him.

He'll be fine. Clint would be fine.

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She helped him balance as he undressed, greedy gaze taking him all in. He was gorgeous, lean and lethal and if anything she wanted him more.

Leanin into him, echoing his groan, leaned up, snaking his arms around his shoulders to kiss his face, lips finding his mouth. Between her legs she could feel how wet she was, and that thought made her shiver. To hell with manners and propriety.

"Clint," she leaned back. "Fuck me." It was half request, half an order.

Shit. He didn't need anything more direct than that to get him tugging her panties down, pulling them off and tossing them aside as they kissed. He slid his tongue against hers, tasted that last remnant of tea on her lips with a satisfied hum.

Here? Now? He could accept it. Shifting his weight, he slipped a hand along the back of her leg, pulling her closer. Then, with a sigh and a quiet chuckle, he pulled them both back into the chair, her on his lap, feeling her wetness against his leg.

She clung to him as they kissed, nails dragging against tanned skin, fingers pulling at his hair. She gasped into his mouth when he pulled her down with him. Pressed against his torso, she sighed, relaxing into the warmth of his skin.

Ana rubbed herself agaisnt his leg, craving more of the friction it gaze her as she reached for what lay between his legs. The first touch was gentle, almost shy. The second was firm, Ana's thumb rubbing over his head and down the shaft.

Pulling her close was the first step in what he wanted to do, but her grip on him threw all other thoughts out of his mind. He dug his fingers into the skin of her behind, letting his short nails leave little crescent marks as he groaned. Her touch drove him crazy, even if it seemed hesitant, timid.

Had she even done this before?

He wanted more, wanted everything.

Ana moans as he grips her, hips rolling. It wasn't enough. She wanted more. Him. Now. Sex wasn't new to her, but it was never like this, never with so much control on her park. Ana's grip on him becomes more confident and she gives him a stroke, watching his face.

His eyes fluttered closed at the stroke, his head lolling forward as he sighed. Her touch was so delicate, so light and fleeting, but he was sure she would warm up, would let herself loose. She just had that sort of nature, that kind of an aura about her. There was something passionate and dangerous beneath that sweet exterior, or so he posited.

Ana couldn't help but smile. She kept touching him, growing bold, eperimenting with touch and presure, grazing nails over his thighs. She moved, rearranging her limps to better stradle his lap. Her hands tembled as she struggled to keep control of herself, her dearest desire at that moment was to bite and claw and take.

"Hey," he whispered, reaching up to tug at her hair as he pulled her close enough to kiss.

"Just let go." And his lips met hers again, a bruising, searing kiss with little regard for the fact that he felt, deep down, that he shouldn't be involving himself with her in any way beyond tea.

"Mm?" Ana opened her eyes. She started to frown at his words but this kiss put everything into focus. Ana growled into his mouth a fought his for dominance. Reaching between them she gripped him and brought him inside, pushing herself down till her hips lay flush against his.

There it was, exactly what he was waiting for. He kissed her more fiercely as he pulled at her hair and kneaded at her skin, pulling her close. Slipping his arm beneath her, he shifted her hips to take him in deeper before he started lifting her slightly.

Ana curled her legs around him, pulling herself back down against him a small laugh escaping into his mouth. Ana dragged her hands over his chest, feeling warm muscle and smooth scars, and dug her nails into his lower back, pulling him deeper.

He broke the kiss, breathing heavily against the skin of her neck. Running his hands over her thighs, he relished the feeling of her skin and the heat growing between them, perfectly willing to let her do the work now. If she wanted to ride him, he'd let her, so very gladly.

Ana soothed the side of his face and moved, hips thrusting. Her strokes were slow and shallow more teasing than any real pleasure. Ana wante dto stir him, frustrate him, make him as wild as she was feeling.

And she was doing a damned fine job of it, sending these little jolts of pleasure up his spine, stilling his hips with her gently controlled movements. Part of him wanted to give up, to beg, but he didn't.

Sighing, Ana leaned back, showing her throat to him as she moved against him. Her fingers dug into his hair, blunt nails scrubbing against his scalp.

Biting her lip she forces her eyes open at take in his face, her expression one of open challenge.

His lips went to her throat, pressing needy kisses against her skin as he let her ride him. It felt good--no, great--and he wanted her to keep going. But he wanted her to go faster, harder. That look of challenge was enough to make him finally respond.

"Like it slow?"

Ana purred into the kisses, slipping a little off rhythm as she shivered in his lap. This slow work was a tease, winding them both tight as bow strings. Was it enough? Hell no. She wanted more.

At his question, Ana gave him a smile she hoped was a wicked as it felt.

"Hell no."

He smiled back, almost chuckling at the look she gave him. Wicked, indeed.

With steady hands, he guided her atop him, helping her grind down and move as she pleased with only little cues and requests from his own body.

Position adjusted, Ana picked up the pace, holding onto him for leverage. The angle was perfect, Clint stroking all the right spots; it was enough to make her moan.

Leaning foreward, she brushed a kiss over his neck, moving up to his jaw.

"Good?"

"Yeah." And he tipped his head to the side, welcoming her lips as much as he welcomed the way her body was moving against him. She was good at reading him, as usual.

He groaned again, taking a deep breath and letting his natural instincts take over. There was no shortage of motion and friction between them, his body responding to hers quickly and easily.

Ana was starting to wind tight, short needy whimpers coming with every breath. She kissed him, teeth scraping at his lips, fingers dragging through his hair.

She echoed his groan, the sound of him sending a jolt of heat through her. It wasn't far off now, she could taste her climax coming but by gods she never wanted it to end.

He relaxed more into the couch, shifting his hips and giving her just enough room to go a little deeper. The whimpers were ringing in his ears, echoing his own low grunts as they moved.

He messily kissed back, all his attention focused on their hips, on their pleasure.

"Close..."

He broke the kiss and let his head loll back as he approached his own climax.

Ana gave a throaty groan, shivering as her body got closer to it's release. Her hand falls from his shoulder, slippping between them, her fingers fumbling for her clit.

"Yes..." Her breath was catching, her soft whines growing louder. "C-Clint... Please." Just a little more, just a little further.

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[PSL] Ana and Hawkeye

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