Taking his time was no problem at all. Clint had a certain affinity for details. Carefully, he wrapped one arm around Kate's waist, pushing himself up while holding her close to himself and twisting them so that she was on her back against the cushions, Clint following to lean over her, braced on his knee. "Don't mind if I do."
His mouth carried on down her throat, tempted to leave a few marks, but reminding himself that this was not high school and he did not need to leave hickeys all along Kate's throat. Kneeling between Kate's thighs, Clint shifted to let his hand trail down her leg, squeezing her thigh lightly before sliding back up, this time all the way under her shirt to stroke along her rib cage.