penistower | I'm prepared for this ✫ I never shoot to miss

She hums a little, something fondly amused in the soft sound. Her heart feels light and full all at once, and she can't remember ever being so completely content and optimistic about the future. "You're not," she shakes her head slightly with a small, gentle smile, brushing her fingers across his cheek. "You couldn't."

Almost expecting a quip of some sort, it catches him off guard when she's earnest, heart leaping that much more in his chest. "Oh," he says, predictably, grinning wider and wrapping his other arm around her waist. "Well, in that case--" Bouncing back on the bed some, he drags her with him neatly, both his legs latching onto one of hers when they're both laying in the middle of the bed. Tony takes his perfect opportunity to stare at her uninterrupted, merely enjoying being close while their cartoon wraps on TV.

She gives a surprised little yelp when he drags them down, the tiny sound turning into a chuckle when they settle. She's smiling as she returns his gaze, so warmly and earnestly it crinkles the corners of her eyes. Tony's octopus-like clinging should probably feel claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but it doesn't -- were it anyone else, she knows it would. But this? She only feels warmth and contentment to be so surrounded by his presence. Shifting her arm a little between them, she lays her palm flat against his chest again, beside the reactor.

"So... now what?" she murmurs with a touch of playfulness in her voice, still smiling. "Do we just stay here for the rest of the day?"

"Preferably for at least that long," he admits, resting his face against hers as his heart pounds up against her fingertips through his shirt. He would gladly stay just like this for eternity, or at least it feels that way in this moment. And for a man who finds it impossible to sit still, that's quite a feat. "But maybe..." Nudging his nose against hers and closing his eyes, Tony presses a firm kiss to her lips, fingers stroking over a hipbone as he deepens the contact automatically this time. Practice makes perfect, right?

Pepper's eyes close into the kiss, issuing a soft noise as she parts her lips for him and allows him access deeper. Warmth spreads through her at the stroking fingers at her hip, her own flexing slightly against his pectoral as if to grasp a better hold.

"Oh," she murmurs lowly as the kiss breaks after several moments, a new, sensual awareness in her tone. teasing gently, she goes on, "I suppose I can agree to that." She presses smiling lips to his, initiating the kiss this time; it's soft and slow but still passionate, questing fingertips climbing up again from his chest to trail up his throat.

His breath hitches against her mouth at the sensation of those soft fingertips moving over sensitive skin. No one has ever touched him this way, passionate but sweet, and he's already addicted. He takes a much needed gulp of air before kissing back with absolutely no reservations left, his other hand moving back up under her shirt to stroke the small of her back. "At least we can agree on something."

"We agree on stuff," she murmurs lazily as their latest kiss breaks, her lips brushing lightly against his as they twitch into a fond smile, eyes lidding at the way he strokes her lower back. "Every now and then."

He goes a little cross-eyed, looking at her from this close up. "Oh yeah. Like what?" he challenges, trying to think of something himself in the moment. They're very different people, in a lot of ways, though maybe only the ways most like to measure. They have plenty in common he never would have thought they did.

"Well, we... both like coffee and ice cream," she says the first thing that pops into her head, grinning a little crookedly as she nudges her nose against his. It's silly, maybe, but it's a start.

His lips twist into a silly smile echoing hers, idly drawing patterns against her skin. "Anything that 99.99% of humans don't also agree on?"

She bursts into soft giggles she simply can't stifle, breathing a short, quiet laugh. "Oh, come on. That number can't be more than... 98%. Not everyone likes coffee, those weirdos." Because obviously everyone likes or at least should like!! ice cream.

"It's so sexy when you do math," he admits, something of a dreamy sigh in his voice before he closes the scant distance again, one hand coming up tenderly to cup her throat. This kiss is more thorough and involved than before, closing his eyes and allowing his hips to graze hers innocently. What's not innocent is the half-hard state he's in, impossible to ignore with the shift.

"Really?" she manages to murmur with a smile before he leans in for a kiss, through and focused -- it has the same kind of quiet intensity he devotes to his projects, Pepper thinks with a soft shiver -- unlike any of the kisses they've traded before, loving the gentle press of his palm over her throat. Her own hand slips down his front to palm his waist, fingers drawing tiny patterns through his shirt. A softest little hum leaves her when the kiss winds down; pleased, fondly amused and a little aroused all at once. It's hard not to let her smile shift more toward a smirk, picking up her train of thought from a moment ago -- thought it now has a more tangible connotation, feeling his predicament as their hips bump gently. "Math turns you on?"

He smiles too, breathless as they pull back and a steady flush creeps up his throat. "Only when you do it," he clarifies, kissing her cheek and then her ear as his lungs slowly stop burning and he starts breathing normally again.

"Oh," she repeats the often-used word between them softly, lips curving into a pleased smile under the press of his on her cheek. The light kiss to her sensitive ear has her sighing audibly, loving the tender gesture. "What else?" she murmurs before fully registering the fact that she'd spoken. It could mean a lot of things, to be honest; what else turns him on, what else she does that he likes. Not even she can tell what exactly she meant at the moment.

Pleasant shivers pull up under his skin at the question and her soft voice so close. What else. Such a simple inquiry but one he knows is his to interpret. That too is exciting and he isn't sure what will come out when he opens his mouth, not that that's an unusual feeling for him. "I like it when you're sure, which is most of the time. Bonus points if you're telling me what to do." That got a little fetishy, but he's cool with it. He was more thinking about them on the battlefield and how seamless Pepper makes it all with her utter command of every situation. It's truly breathtaking... but even simple, small things have been getting to him, especially these last few weeks. How she'll ask him for something in a way that brokers no argument -- it's hot.

"You do need someone around telling you what to do," Pepper agrees in a husky murmur, smiling, though she recognizes it's something of an uncharitable sentiment, really -- but still, a truthful one. Even Tony himself is aware of it. And Pepper doesn't mind it one bit. Her hand on his waist slips under the hem of his shirt, fingertips drawing circles into bare, warm skin now. Some completely unexpected urge enhanced by their intimate closeness has the words spilling softly and slowly from her lips, her heart skipping a beat once she realizes exactly what she'd just done. "Is that what you were thinking about in the shower?"

Her statement is easily agreed to, so much of a given that he doesn't even bother responding. His eyes drift closed at the soft touches, entirely caught off by her next question. Tony pulls in an audible breath and holds it, his eyes popping back open in a telltale way. "...Y-yes. Among other things." Slowly, he forges their eye contact back, finding it undeniably exciting that she'd been listening in. "But it's always you. You in control, you getting everything you need from me." It isn't easy for him to talk this way, his voice crackly and soft as a result, but still certain. He wants her to know how important that is to him -- that she always get what she needs. If he can make it happen then all the better. He doesn't realize yet that she can glean he's been having these fantasies for some time from the admittance.

She sucks in a soft breath at the implication in his words, becoming clearer every time she runs them through her mind again and again. Heat blooms deep within her and courses through her veins, a flush coloring her cheeks. She swallows thickly, licking her dry lips and breathes out slowly in preparation of the next question.

"Always?" she queries softly, almost timidly. "How long have you had... about me?" Her voice is breathless, almost hesitant to believe he'd been carrying such a torch for her longer than she'd imagined. It's humbling, startling and helplessly exciting, flattering even.

"A while," he confirms, flushing too in almost automatic mirror to hers. It's hard to pinpoint exactly when, but before she came to stay with him. It was something he'd brushed off until they actually started getting to know each other. "Sorry, I--" His face gets redder in an instant and he looks away. He's sorry for a lot of things, but most especially for pushing her away because he had feelings for her. In his defense he never thought she would have gone for a guy like him, let alone him in specific.

"Well. You know I'm bad at this."

"I... I had no idea you felt that way," Pepper says quietly, her heart picking up speed and fluttering wildly in her chest. She had no idea he felt that way about her, specifically, unknowingly mirroring Tony's own insecurities. For all their talk days earlier of Happy thinking she was the 'hot one', Pepper never did see herself in such a way. Certainly not next to Natasha. She bumps her nose gently against his jawline, breathless and feeling warm all over -- no, not warm, hot. Creeping over to downright aroused because god, the knowledge is sexy.

"Don't be sorry." She's never felt like this before, so bold and so hesitant at the same time. She needs to know. Her hand climbs further up his shirt, sliding along his side and palming his back, her voice barely audible when she suddenly pleads against his skin, "...Tell me? What you thought about?"

"Me either," he admits, not wanting her to think he had pined for her. Though maybe he had, in his own naive way. But then she's asking him that and clinging to him in such a way that has him falling apart all over again. He was always better at doing than speaking, especially in these contexts, but she's so adamant and frankly the idea of divulging his secret whims to her is sexy as hell. He's pretty sure she thinks so too.

Steeling himself, he shifts against her again so she can feel the solid weight of his erection now, fully formed. He likes being trapped against her this way, like he was this morning, the more he told himself the stand down the more aroused he had become. Tony fits his lips to her ear, knowing he isn't capable of saying these things and make eye contact. His hand seeks out her waist beneath her shirt, similarly gripping on while he begins, almost like he's telling a fairy tale.

"It always starts the same way. You... You're waiting for me, in my room." He hesitates, already embarrassed, but somehow that's sexy too and he's able to go on. "You're wearing lace--and leather. Your hair's in a ponytail, and you look at me like... Like I belong to you." His breath is already coming in quick pants, hand convulsively squeezing around her hip bone. He pauses to kiss her jaw, just below her ear, an almost desperate press of lips before returning to his place. "I kneel down and crawl the rest of the way to you, until I feel your fingers in my hair..."

Her breath catches sharply when he fits himself against her fully, no coyness now in the way their hips slot together and his hard arousal presses against her own groin unambiguously. She stills when Tony's lips find her sensitive ear, but can't control the minute trembling that wracks her entire body from head to toe-- but she's not cold, far from it. It's solely helpless excitement that has her shivering, her stomach lurching and flipping when his gravelly voice drops those enticing words against the shell of her ear. Her eyes slip shut and she swallows dryly, seeing the scene he's describing playing out behind her lids.

She can't hold back a tiny sound as she listens, a briefest, softest moan; god help her, that's hot -- and nothing like she'd ever imagined. The way he describes her is so foreign to her, this sexy dominatrix type of woman. But she finds herself wanting it instead of feeling uncomfortable with it. Her breath shudders out in a long exhale between parted lips when Tony kisses her jaw, puffing hotly against his skin as her fingers tighten against his bare back, shivering slightly again as she pictures Tony on his knees, crawling toward her in submission. Heat pours through her and centers between her thighs, the throb there unmistakable. God, this is turning her on unlike anything has in ages.

"What next?" she breathes with a quiver of excitement in her thready voice, the anticipation killing her. "Do I curl my fingers in your hair and tug? What do you do?"

That tiny noise she makes has his stomach lurching in kind, rubbing his nose against the side of her face as he builds himself up to go on. He's glad this isn't freaking her out, though maybe it's not what she would have expected of him. He hopes that only makes it sexier.

"First you pet me, then you tug. I whimper, pressing my face into your hip as I wait for instructions. You don't disappoint..." Here's where things are going to get explicit, and he swallows, hooking one leg around hers and stroking up the side of her ribs with his fingertips. The more he can touch and be touched, the less nervous he is to tell her all the dirty things he's been harboring about her for what seems like forever. "You let go and back up, tell me to get naked for you, and climb onto the bed. You look so... regal that way, towering over me as I remove my shirt. You watch me and smirk. I turn red all over, standing up so I can get my pants off. I push my boxers down too and step out, turning in a slow circle so you can look at me. You laugh at me, it makes me hard."

He wonders if this is crossing into romance novel territory yet, knowing he isn't the best storyteller in the world. But maybe that's okay in this instance. He can feel how much this is affecting her, the way she trembles next to him just as sexy as the words at hand. "I kneel back down and wait for you to tell me to join you on the bed, trying to be patient like a good boy but you look good enough to eat... You lean back against the pillows like you've forgotten about me, reaching down to touch yourself through black lace panties. It's torture, watching you when I want to touch. And taste."

He's starting to lose his voice a little, his heart fluttering wildly like a caged bird. He needs to take a break, for a second. His fingers brush against the band of her bra at the same time as he kisses her throat, almost like he's punctuating for the story. His tongue darts out, indeed to taste her, marveling in how sweet her skin actually is, his dreams literally coming to pass.

She's spellbound, captivated by every word, her breathing picking up with each moment until she's panting ever so softly. Any thought of this being just a sexy but still innocent little whim gets obliterated into thousands of pieces when Tony really gets into the meat of the fantasy, and she shivers all over again as his calloused fingers trail further up along her ribs. She hardly even thinks of judging his storytelling skills, perfectly affected with every single word.

When he gets to the part about good boy and her touching herself in the fantasy, she can no longer contain her low whimper, her hips shifting restlessly against his as she feels wetness dampening her panties at the mention of tasting. "God," she breathes, a slight edge of a whine in her tone. Her hand strokes up and down his back, dipping over to graze over his side, fingers tightening occasionally; her touches are growing more restless, more impassioned, arching into his questing hand at her bra and dipping back her head on a low moan when his lips and tongue caress her throat.

"Where--? Where did you want to taste?" Her tone has a degree of audible desperation, her flush spreading down to her heaving chest, passion clouding her head from anything else but this, both her need to hear more and her physical desire growing. She'd never before realized how much spelling out such intimate details in words turns her on. Squirming, she digs her nails lightly into his bare skin and begs breathlessly, "Tell me, god, tell me..."

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