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“Yeah, dinner at six? Uh… Rae?”
I giggled as I bounced against his body, causing his jaw to unhinge silently.
“Yep. That’s good. Six, in the hall--hallway.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth as I pressed myself up before sliding all the way back down again. Making him more frustrated than ever. And yet, I knew he liked it. The thrill of it. Michael in his ear, me teasing him on his cock.
“Can we do steak, Michael? I’d really like a nice slab of beef tonight,” I called out.
I rolled my hips, causing Clint to groan out before he drew in a quick breath.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll tell her. See you guys at six. Bye.”
And just as quickly as he’d hung up the phone, my hands fell against his chest.
“They know now, you know,” he murmured.
I grinned. “Like you care.”
“You’re going to pay for that, Rae.”
“I’d like to see you tr--ah!”
I giggled as he quickly flipped me over, reaching for my clit as he kept himself sheathed within me. His fingers moved quickly, working me as my legs pulled taut. I gasped for air, whimpering with broken moans as I choked on my own ability to speak. He knew just what buttons to press. He knew exactly how sensitive I was. He played me like a damn fiddle, and I adored that about him.
Until his fingers stopped.
“Wh-wh-wh-wh--what? Why? I don’t--”
“Payback really is a bitch, beautiful.”
He captured my lips before pounding into my body. Over and over, swiveling his hips against my swollen nub. I gasped for more. I needed more of him. But every time I got close, he stopped. Every time I reached that peak, he pulled back. It was sheer torture, not falling over that cliff with him. I felt his length swelling. Pulsing. Practically screaming out its own needs. And yet Clint wouldn't indulge them.
Neither of us.
“Please. I can’t anymore.”
Clint nuzzled me. “Oh, is the little tease tired of being teased?”
I sighed. “Come on. It wasn’t this bad.”
“Well, it’s not my fault you look so beautiful when you’re flustered.”
He bit against my neck and I arched. His hands moved all over my body, tracing my outlines with his palms. He pounded into me, then rested. He languidly moved, then rested. He rutted against me, short, quick strokes as his pelvis lapped at my clit.
Then fucking rested.
Beads of sweat dripped down the nape of my neck. My entire body flushed from head to toe. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think straight. My limbs went limp against the mattress. Immobile against the force of his body. Every inch of me was covered in his kisses by the time he was done. And yet, neither of us were done.
Because he wouldn't fucking let me come.
“Clint,” I said hoarsely.
He captured my lips, making my heart flutter.
“You ready, my love?” he murmured.
All I mustered was a nod before he chuckled.
