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overworked / worked over

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Nat steps into their usual suite at eight on the dot and sees Pepper standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows. The room is dark, illuminated only by the city outside the glass, but Natasha can see the tension in every line of Pepper's body the lights have limned in silver. Her back is a rigid line, her shoulders stiff, even the way she turns toward Natasha has a stilted edge.

"You okay?" Natasha asks, setting her bag down on the velvet bench by the bed, running her fingers over the soft fabric absently as she assesses the other woman. Neither of them ever need a reason to want this, but if there's something more going on than Pepper needing to blow off steam, Nat wants to know about it up front.

Pepper shrugs and leans back against the glass, watching Natasha approach. "The usual--meetings with the ratings agencies all week. You know how those S&P guys just love a woman in charge." She rolls her eyes. "They kept calling me honey and all but patted my head, like I'm not the CE-goddamn-fucking-O of a multibillion dollar company that could buy and sell their saggy asses ten times over. Fuck." Pepper blows out a long, shaky breath, visibly pushing back her rage and pulling herself back together and well, that just won't do. Natasha is not always so great at feelings, but this--impotent rage and the need for a very specific distraction--this is something she can work with.

"So you're feeling a little worked up?" she asks, letting her smile go smug and sharp as she steps into Pepper's space. "In the mood for some female companionship?"

"In the mood for you," Pepper says, direct as always. Natasha likes that about her. Pepper might be poised and proper when she needs to be, but she's not prissy. And she isn't spoiled, not really. She expects nice things, but she isn't unwilling to work for them.

Historically speaking, Natasha makes her work very, very hard. But tonight, well. It's been a long week. Maybe she's feeling a little generous.

Natasha rocks forward, fisting her hand in the soft silk of Pepper's blouse and pulling her mouth down to hers. Even in bare feet, Pepper is still a good five inches taller than her, but Natasha knows how to use a height difference to her advantage. She wraps a gun-calloused hand around the warm skin of Pepper's nape, tugging her down until she's over-balanced, bending over Natasha and held upright only by the pressure of her hands and mouth. Soft lips open for her, inviting her inside the slick warm of her mouth and Natasha swallows down the high, breathy noise Pepper makes when their tongues meet. She wraps her hand around Pepper's sleek ponytail and yanks it back to set her teeth on her throat, feels Pepper's moan vibrate over her lips and slip deeper, humming like a struck bell in her bones, her gut, her blood.

She steps back, enjoying the way Pepper stumbles to catch herself without Natasha holding her up. "Take off your clothes."

Pepper licks her kiss-bitten lips and smiles, and the anticipation in it curls through Natasha like warm smoke. Natasha watches shamelessly as Pepper carefully unbuttons her blouse and slips out of her skirt, letting her eyes press like fingertips into every inch of flushed skin Pepper bares. She raises a brow at the delicate wisps of transparent pink lace clinging to her breasts and hips, knowing they probably cost more than a month's rent even if they look like they'd disintegrate if Natasha so much as breathes too heavily near them.

"I’d tell you you shouldn’t have," she drawls, stepping forward again and running her hands up Pepper's long torso, smiling when she feels Pepper’s skin pebble beneath her palm. “But I know you didn’t wear these for me.”

“Why waste the effort on someone who lives in sports bras from Target?” Pepper says with a grin that goes tight when Nat leans forward and bites down on the soft curve of her breast, quick and sharp. She sucks in a breath when Natasha drags her mouth over her nipple, sucking hard through the thin layer of lace.

Nat steps back and smirks, pleased with the way the wet fabric clings to the dark pink peak, with the way Pepper is slumped against the window, all her poise forgotten. So unladylike. She can't resist pinching that nipple between her thumb and forefinger and twisting just a bit. Just enough to get Pepper to whimper, to arch her back and buck her hips, looking for something Natasha isn't going to give her yet.

"These Target bras got your ass into bed, so I don't want to hear it."

Pepper cocks her head and grins. It's lazy and slow, her eyes bright and heavy lidded, mouth red and wet and fuck, what a picture she makes. She's already starting to unravel and Natasha's barely touched her.

"Yes, it was definitely those $12.99 elastic nightmares that sealed the deal for me," Pepper says. "And not your smart mouth and frankly obscene pair of breasts."

Natasha snorts. "One day I will get you to say tits, I swear to god."

Pepper scrunches up her nose. "Such an ugly word for something so soft and cuddly."

"These tits have brought down entire governments. They've stolen state secrets. Ruined lives. They are weapons of mass destruction. They are not cuddly," Natasha says with an amused huff.

"Yes, they're very brave and important." Pepper gives her a look that very clearly communicates the kind of head patting she'd been railing about a few minutes ago. "Which is why I can't understand why you insist on shoving them into those cheap straitjackets. Not all heroes wear capes, but yours should at least be allowed some lace from time to time."

Natasha hums, drawing one nail down the strap of Pepper's bra and tracing the embroidery over the sheer fabric of the cup. "Lace like this, you mean?"

"Yeah," Pepper says, voice going a little high and strangled as Natasha draws concentric circles around her nipple. "They deserve nice things."

"Well, since you're so proud of your nice things," Natasha says, grasping Pepper's shoulder and opposite hip and neatly flipping her so she's pressed against the window, "let's show them off. Like you said, they're wasted on me."

Pepper squeaks and Natasha presses her grin and then her teeth into her neck. She winds her arms around Pepper, one hand at the base of her throat, the other pressed against her trembling stomach. And then lower, cupping where she's soft and wetting up the flimsy lace between her legs.

"I haven't even touched you yet, and your little pussy is already wet," she says, running a light finger over her sex. Pepper's fingers curl against the window, and Natasha sucks gently on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. "Look at all those people down there. You think any of them know how hungry you are?"

"God," Pepper says on a shaky breath, bucking into Natasha's hand when she slips a finger under the elastic and runs it along the smooth, slick slit of her. She is so wet, and making little broken off noises that echo off the rapidly fogging window.

Natasha slides two fingers into her, grinning at the sound it makes. "You think they know how messy you get for me?" She hums as she pumps her fingers deep and presses against Pepper's clit with her thumb in a slow, deliberate rhythm. "What would they say if they knew proper little Ms. Potts gets this wet so easy, huh? If they knew how you start panting for it as soon as you get some hands on you?"

Pepper leans her forehead against the window and cants her hips, trying to get more friction. "Nat, please."

"Aw, you want it, honey?" Natasha presses her thumb hard against her clit, rubs her fingers over that spot up in her cunt that makes Pepper's thighs shake and her breath catch. She bites at Pepper's shoulder when she doesn't answer. "Come on, I asked you a question. You want to come?"

"Yes, fuck," Pepper grits out, and then smaller, quieter because she knows how this works: "please let me."

"Hm, okay." Natasha steps back, leaving Pepper to sway against the window with a whine. "Go get on the bed."

Pepper shoots her a dirty look and walks to the bed on shaky legs, and Natasha has to admire how even though she's nearly naked and wet all down to her thighs, she still carries herself like she's wearing a perfectly pressed pinstripe suit.

Natasha grabs her bag and swings onto the bed beside Pepper, drawing out a sturdy black leather belt and an even sturdier looking black toy that makes Pepper whine in her throat. "Oh, god."

Natasha grins and leans down to suck a mark into the ticklish spot above Pepper's hip bone. She giggles and writhes on the bed, until Natasha sinks her teeth in and pulls Pepper's panties down to her thighs in one rough tug. "Keep your legs closed. No, tighter," she says sharply, pinching at the soft meat of her legs.

When Pepper's thighs are pressed tight together, she lays the toy along their seam, lining up the big head so it's nuzzled right up against her clit, and winds the belt tight around her legs to keep it in place. "There," Natasha says, patting Pepper's hip and flicking on the wand. "Don't move."

Peppers breaths are already ragged and loud in the otherwise quiet room, but the tiny scream she lets out when the toy begins its relentless buzzing right against her seems to echo off the walls. She strains involuntarily, her body bowing up and then relaxing as she remembers to be still. "Good girl," Natasha murmurs.

The first orgasm doesn't take long. Pepper lets out a little "oh," and laughs, her body jerking in its hold. The second surprises her, coming quick and sharp, laughter still bubbling out of her between her little gasps and moans. It's after the third when starts looking at Natasha with big, round eyes. Her face is red, shiny with sweat, her hair a frizzy mess from her hands, sticking to her face and neck, and her mouth bitten red and swollen. She's beautiful like this. More beautiful still when those big blue eyes start to fill with tears, and her voice goes hoarse and just a little afraid.

"No," she says when it starts to build again. "No, please. I can't."

"Yes you can," Natasha says. And she's right. The muscles in Pepper's abdomen ripple as Pepper jackknifes with a hoarse cry, nearly dislodging the wand from its perch. "See?"

"I hate you," Pepper gasps, and Natasha laughs.

"I'm just giving you what you asked for." She straddles Pepper's knees to help her stay in place and leans down to lick up Pepper's wet thighs, suck at the fat little mound of skin above her cunt while she comes with a violent shake and a sob. "How many was that? Five?" she asks, bending over Pepper and trapping her hands against the pillow. "Let's shoot for lucky number seven. You can do two more, right?"

"No," Pepper sobs, shaking her head against the pillow. "Please, Nat. I can't." But she's already tightening up again, breath already stuttering in her chest, making high desperate moans in her throat. "No no no no--fuck."

"Look at you," Natasha croons. "One more, come on. Let me see."

Like it's in on the joke, this one takes longer, the build up seeming to plateau and then sharpen in tiny increments, making Pepper cry and strain against Natasha's hold. Natasha watches her face, her little screwed up eyes leaking a steady stream of tears, red cheeks, her lips chewed raw, hanging open inelegantly as Pepper pants out sharp little moans and pleas.

"You're a fucking wreck," she says, her voice calm and amused, belying the glittering avarice in her eyes as she watches Pepper come apart. She leans down, sucking one small, perfect tit into her mouth and pinching the other in a sharp, mean rhythm. She can feel Pepper's heart beating fast and hard against her ribs, feel her shuddery, ragged lungfuls of air heaving in and out, hear the way her moans, gone guttural now, start in her chest and claw themselves out of her throat, the way they get torn into a scream when she finally comes.

A fucking beautiful wreck.

"Okay, okay, okay," Pepper gasps, writhing under Natasha. "I did it, turn it off oh god turn it off turn it off."

Natasha laughs as she scoots down to turn off the wand and untie Pepper. She crawls back up her body, levering herself down on top of Pepper, knowing she needs the warmth and the contact to come down afterward. Pepper shivers and buries her face in Natasha's neck, wiggling like she's trying to burrow herself inside her skin. Natasha runs a soothing hand down her tangled ponytail and her sweaty back, up and down until Pepper stops trembling and her breaths come even and slow.

Pepper shudders and jerks back, sudden enough Natasha almost yelps. "Get this off," she says, flicking a finger at Natasha's sports bra.

"Sure, whatever you want," she says with a smirk and peels it off. "Better?"

Pepper settles down again, laying her face down on Natasha's chest. "Just want to cuddle with your tits for awhile."

Natasha laughs and wraps an arm around Pepper's shoulder. She lets her eyes close, setting a mental alarm to get Pepper up and into a hot bath in twenty minutes. Well, maybe thirty. She's earned the rest.