[Whatever snarky comment Pietro half-thought dies in his throat as she runs her nails down his spine again, his muscles twitching under them. Not just tomorrow, he thinks, but can't say it, and only seeks more of her touch, whining softly when she takes her hand off his ass just when it was getting good, rough and firm. He almost hears it before he feels it, her palm hard and fast against his skin, a stinging heat left behind and radiating. A strangled noise leaves his mouth before he can form an actual answer. An answer he doesn't want to give, but also does.]
Yes.
[It's embarrassing to admit and he can't meet her eyes. He'd had her under his control just moments ago, and it's turned around so quickly. But he'd asked for it. Wanda is the only person who can scatter his thoughts so easily and have him wondering how he got somewhere.]
no subject
Yes.
[It's embarrassing to admit and he can't meet her eyes. He'd had her under his control just moments ago, and it's turned around so quickly. But he'd asked for it. Wanda is the only person who can scatter his thoughts so easily and have him wondering how he got somewhere.]