Sometimes Clint feels like he’s making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s not as if Darcy is a delicate creature who is going to break at the mere suggestion of the things that Clint has rolling through his head. It’s not as if Darcy herself isn’t playful and aggressive either, doesn’t make her own demands of him. It’s just that they’ve got a good thing going, and Clint doesn’t want to mess that up. He’s really good at messing things up.
Clint would be perfectly happy for the rest of his days with Darcy just as they are. Because outside of bed, it’s amazing. She hovers just the right amount, and worries with the best of them. It’s so nice to have someone that both worries over him and would be the first to push him out the door towards a dangerous situation. When he dares to look to the future, she’s there. It’s been a long time since he’s ever thought that far ahead for something as mutable as a relationship.
Every so often, he holds her wrists in one hand pinning her to the bed, and presses more of his weight onto her, and she relaxes into it. Clint can’t help but wonder how much more he can risk. He could do more than just live with the little gestures she unconsciously allows him but it doesn’t always feel honest. If they’d met elsewhere the conversation would have happened much earlier, much easier. Places where “What are you into?” are perfectly normal and routine.
He had to meet Darcy through what counted as work these days, didn’t he?
The thing is, this shouldn’t be a hard thing to ask, because he and Darce? They’ve got a relationship built upon being loudmouths and occasional assholes. He’s just never sure when to bring it up. Before sex? After, when she’s curled up tight alongside him, sated and sweet? During would likely be a disaster waiting to happen, and it doesn’t seem like dinner conversation. That would go well, how’s your soup, by the way what are your feelings on rough sex?
Even Clint knows that there is a time and a place for these things, but he just can’t figure out when it’s supposed to be. Especially when there is nothing wrong with what you’ve got.
And right now, even with his mind wandering as Darcy’s fingers tease their way across his shoulder blades and down his arms, and what seems like miles of skin pressed against him, it’s the last thing he wants to mess up. Darcy likes sweet, lazy kisses, and the length of time they can spend together, lips joined, makes him feel he could just devour her.
His hind brain kicks into high gear at the thought of kissing the breath right out of her and he turns her onto her back, reaching for her hands and never letting his lips leave her hers. Except to softly groan when he feels her back hit the bed with a little more force than he intended.
Darcy breaks off the kiss, “Wow, that’s what it takes to get noise out of you today?”
Clint blinks out of his slack jawed pre-coital glaze, “Wait, huh?”
Darcy laughs, raising her eyebrows and rolling her eyes fondly. It makes her breasts bounce and he shakes the moment off by tracing his tongue around a nipple.
Darcy slips a hand out of his, tips his chin up from her breasts, “You’ve been a little too quiet today. Not like you. What’s up?”
“Studying perfection?” He answers, and Darcy’s eyes roll harder.
“Don’t hold back hotshot, what’s up?” She looks down at Clint’s rather obvious erection, “Besides you, of course. What do you want?”
Clint has a lot of experience at not panicking, because what he wants is to hold her hair and fuck her face, see how her gag reflex holds up, but he can’t say that, not right now, he’d fuck this up so bad, but he’s got that image of her begging for his dick that he can’t stop. Darcy’s eyes go wide, and she scrambles up to sitting and Clint realizes he’s just said that out loud.
Darcy moves up the bed but she doesn’t leave it, does curl into herself like she does when she’s nervous and unsure, but she looks at Clint with wariness.
“Okay,” she says, “where did that come from?”
Clint might as well be honest. If they are done, then at least he can leave it with his head held high. He keeps his hands on her thighs, taking in the smooth skin and muscle underneath, and runs his thumbs in the crease between leg and hip. As if on cue, Darcy closes her eyes and her mouth twitches in pleasure. “It’s something I like. Like using my strength for something a lot more fun than violence.”
Darcy takes a few deep breathes with her eyes still closed, and the bedroom seems too quiet and tense and Clint fights the urge to run, but he does move, clearing the way if Darcy wants to leave. When she opens her eyes, they are focused, and curiosity tugs at her lips, “What else do you like, Clint? Spanking and shit like that?”
‘Can take or leave that,” he says as Darcy settles into a cross-legged position in front of him, and he’s still just sitting up himself, his legs stretched out on front of him. “Done it before when a girl likes it, and it feels good to do, watch a woman give into it, but that’s the part of it that I liked.”
What he wouldn’t give to get what Darcy’s thinking right now, through her heavy-lidded eyes, her lips red and wet from the kisses he was giving her just a few moments ago. She shifts her weight, “Tell me more,” and her hand slips between her thighs, “Tell me what you want to do with me?” her voice wavers, but whether it’s nerves or that she’s rubbing her fingers alongside her clit, or both he can’t tell.
“I want,” Clint moves to his knees and resting on his heels, because this is permission, this is more than he could have imagined, and he wants to touch Darcy, make sure this is real. He takes up her breasts, rolling them roughly, “To see just how loud you can scream before I have to close your mouth with my hand, I want you to not think about anything but how far you can take my cock in your mouth, I want to move you exactly the way I want and hold you down and take what I want from you.”
Darcy rocks on her hand, fingers sliding into her pussy, leaning forward so that her head rests on his chest, dispensing kisses and nips without rhythm, “And then what? What happens after you take from me?”
“I’d give you what you need, baby,” Never say that Clint Barton isn’t fair, “Make you come so sweet that you’d sing before you scream.”
Darcy’s breath is hot, spreading out against his chest, and she moves and plays, and his eyes are trained on her, how she gets herself off. Even if it’s for show, it’s a good show, the best show, “Tell me,” she says between her own moans and whimpers, “This a deal breaker sort of kink, or something you just really like?”
“If I had to keep it all to myself and in my head, I would.” He replies honestly.
Darcy picks her head up, “Good thing you won’t need too, then. Just don’t call me a slut or a whore,” All he gets in warning is her wicked, beautiful grin before her mouth is sliding with considerable speed down the length of his dick. What little he had flagged when his nerves took over surges back, and it’s seconds before he’s caught on to exactly what Darcy is doing.
She doesn’t get all the way down on her first pass, but boy, the attempt is hard enough to handle. Her mouth is hot and wet and her tongue flicks around his cock as she slowly bobs her head and sucks, “Shit,” Clint says softly, “That’s right sweetheart, get yourself warmed up.”
Darcy divides her attention, one hand holding his hip, pressing her fingernails on his ass. The other keeps moving steadily between her legs, and every so often she makes choked off moans that reverberate in her mouth and throughout his body. She works her mouth down, taking the last inch or so of his dick until he can feel the head of his cock at the back of her throat.
“Oh good girl, Darce,” He sighs and starts gathering up her hair, anticipation curling at the pit of his stomach, “Both hands on me now, if you need me to stop, you poke or slap or whatever you need to do. I will stop.” Clint pulls her hair so that she lifts her eyes and looks at him. He’s almost sad to have her stop playing with herself, but part of the fun is that there is nothing to distract her. “You okay, babe? You ready?”
Darcy nods a few times, her eyes locked on his. When both her hands are resting on his hips, he kisses the top of her head, inwardly thanking her for not leaving him at the first chance she got. There’s probably going to be a lot more discussion later, but he think he can handle it now. The worst is said and done. “Just relax.”
Fuck if her mouth just doesn’t look amazing at the base of his cock, and he rises off his heels and positions himself for the best angle. Darcy’s hair is wonderfully soft in one hand, and he holds Darcy’s head still with the other. Clint starts slow, drawing back so that the tip of his cock rests on her open mouth. Her trust is beautiful, trust that he’ll take care of her, won’t hurt her as he slides in all the way, and Darcy relaxes, accommodates his cock until her forehead hits his body.
After that, it’s like a gate opens and he’s off and running. He hasn’t had this in so long, since before they started dating, and he wants take every bit of pleasure from her and give it back ten times over. He bucks, he jerks, but mostly he slides in and out of her mouth with ease. “Oh, what a good mouth you’ve got Darcy. All hot for me, perfect fit,” Someday he’ll go hard enough to see where exactly her limits are, but now is not that time.
Clint watches her, how her eyes gloss over, blown wide with arousal. Loves how her approving and encouraging noise fill her mouth. He can hear her say “Oh god,” low and in the back of her throat, and that’s what starts to set him off, orgasm curling and beginning to move like a fast moving fire. “Darce, I’m going to —“ he doesn’t finish his sentence, she pulls him in and he comes, releasing as she swallows.
“You’re perfect” he says, releasing his grips, and drawing her up to him, to hold her against him, kiss her soundly and taste himself on her lips, “Absolutely perfect.”
“My turn,” Darcy says, her mouth turning up at the corners impishly, “I believe you said something about — ooomph!” Clint bowls her over, crashing her into the pillows.
“What do you want?” Clint asks and nuzzles and mouths his way down her body, tracing every curve with his hands. He can already feel the heat from her cunt, just waiting for him.
“I think you’ve got the right idea, Clint.”
All’s fair in love and war, “You need to tell me,” he lightly strokes her clit. She’s come down from the edge, since he’s made her wait, but she’s so lovely and wet that it won’t take much more than a bit of concentration.
Darcy’s hand covers her face, as if she were shy and not the brazen woman he knows she is, “Clint, get your head between my thighs and eat me out.”
It’s all the permission he needs. He moves down completely, and pins her hips before he gets his mouth on her, searching out the ways to get her moving tonight. He teases at her entrance before licking her wide open and sucking on her clit. He has to tighten his grip as she squirms and begs for more, and he gives more and more until she’s reduced to incoherent moans underlying an arrhythmic chanting of his name. It dies away the closer she gets, her heels dig against his ass, her hands in his hair, and her thighs shake until her whole body tightens, rising up and releases and melts into his hands and the bed.
Making Darcy quiet is the best reaction yet, and in a swift move he’s up at her side, pulling her into his arms and just telling her that she’s amazing. There will be time for discussion later, they can have that “What are you into” talk that he should have had long ago. But she is amazing, and he can revel in the feeling that he can have everything he wants.