[9 M/F]
When Natasha’s stripping of her disguise was interrupted by familiar hands pulling her shirt off and reaching into her bra to grope her breasts, she moaned in arousal and amusement, smirking as she leaned against him. The redhead always hated it when missions left her keyed up and with nothing to do, and she suspected the soldier who’d accompanied her that mission felt the same way, judging by the way he had twitched every now and then, bright eyes dark with pent-up frustration. They’d been prepared for a fight to go down, a long, drawn-out one, and while their target had so very kind as to give up barely a minute into the confrontation, it left them unfortunately disgruntled, their bodies still running on excitement that didn’t come to them. But that was okay, they could run each other out of energy, and it seemed like he had the same idea. He was already touching her in ways she liked, ways she enjoyed, and she purred in delight, pushing her ass back against him and looking up at him. “Not even a hello before this, handsome?”
