"It's fine," Clint said between kisses, muffled and muted because his mouth was still too close and it didn't matter, it just didn't. Natasha had nothing to be sorry for. "You're perfect."
Frankly, responsiveness wasn't something that he would ever see as a negative. The more little gasps the better -- it didn't even matter if he heard all of them because they were pressed close enough together where he could feel it happening and that was heady all on it's own. Fuck, she was beautiful.
Closer was always better, and Clint absolutely squeezed Natasha's ass when she shifted because he had permission now. He was gonna get around to everything, anyway. There were new things to learn, no matter this was Natasha -- she was a little different. Anyway, it'd be like -- relearning. Studying.