[ As if he has any room to respond to the things that spill out of Clint's mouth, but later? Definitely later.
As he'd pointed out earlier, a while doesn't necessarily mean lack of experience, and once Steve's gotten his aim set on something, everything else just sort of falls into place. There's no time to consider how embarrassing it might be or what he'd look like; from Clint's vocal cues, he'd say he wasn't doing half bad at figuring out what draws even more out of him. Be it the twist of his tongue or the slow pull of his mouth. Maybe even the way his hand gives him a firm squeeze. And it's not as if he doesn't enjoy this either, one hand still balanced against Clint's core to keep him from wiggling and writhing too much as he sets a rhythm that might almost be considered brutal.
There's no reason to be slow, nothing that says he has to take his time. Not with this. Steve thinks it might even get a little more interesting if he manages to pull an orgasm out of Clint first, easing back so he can settle his hands in a better position. At his hips, under his ass. It's enough to get more leverage and set his own pace, groaning quietly as the tension continues to build, and eventually, Steve decides to pull off, fingers returning where his lips had been so he can find his way back up to kiss him.
Maybe he should say something? Or reassure him that he's good about taking it slow? Even if none of this feels like it's slow, sinking into the heat of Clint's mouth to suck at his tongue. Let his teeth scrape over flesh. It's messy and good and a clear precursor to the rest of it.
So, he just knocks his forehead against Clint's, his breath still surprisingly even. ] It's okay. [ He strokes him harder, unrelenting. ] I've got you.
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As he'd pointed out earlier, a while doesn't necessarily mean lack of experience, and once Steve's gotten his aim set on something, everything else just sort of falls into place. There's no time to consider how embarrassing it might be or what he'd look like; from Clint's vocal cues, he'd say he wasn't doing half bad at figuring out what draws even more out of him. Be it the twist of his tongue or the slow pull of his mouth. Maybe even the way his hand gives him a firm squeeze. And it's not as if he doesn't enjoy this either, one hand still balanced against Clint's core to keep him from wiggling and writhing too much as he sets a rhythm that might almost be considered brutal.
There's no reason to be slow, nothing that says he has to take his time. Not with this. Steve thinks it might even get a little more interesting if he manages to pull an orgasm out of Clint first, easing back so he can settle his hands in a better position. At his hips, under his ass. It's enough to get more leverage and set his own pace, groaning quietly as the tension continues to build, and eventually, Steve decides to pull off, fingers returning where his lips had been so he can find his way back up to kiss him.
Maybe he should say something? Or reassure him that he's good about taking it slow? Even if none of this feels like it's slow, sinking into the heat of Clint's mouth to suck at his tongue. Let his teeth scrape over flesh. It's messy and good and a clear precursor to the rest of it.
So, he just knocks his forehead against Clint's, his breath still surprisingly even. ] It's okay. [ He strokes him harder, unrelenting. ] I've got you.