Marvel: Death Dealer

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Dante noticed Fury wasn’t alone inside the quinjet. Maria Hill was also aboard, and she had the task of guiding Natasha toward the ’secure chamber’ at the rear of the quinjet. They had made a special area to escort Natasha. Maria ushered Natasha in and stepped back out. The door slid shut without a sound, making it more secure than Norman Osborn’s vault.

Natasha dropped onto the bench inside as if it was nothing out of the ordinary and rolled her shoulders against the cold metal. "The glamorous life of a prisoner."

"Doesn’t suit my bride."

His voice directly reached her mind. Her eyes snapped wide and darted around the empty cell. Recovering her composure quickly, thanks to her ample experience, she lifted a cloth to cover the lower half of her face and whispered into it.

"Dante?"

"It’s me." He conveyed the thought through telepathy. "Just tagging along to escort you home."

It wouldn’t hurt to scout where Natasha was being held. The information would be valuable when he decided to break her out.

He revealed himself in the seat beside her. "They made a nice, cozy cell for you."

"Are you sure about this? They have cameras everywhere."

"No, they don’t."

He had already swept the entire perimeter with his psionic senses. Not a single recording device or mics. Fury wasn’t getting sloppy; he didn’t think their most obedient weapon needed observing.

She tip-toed to the door and checked if the sound isolation of the room was enough to mute their voices. He didn’t leave it to luck, he didn’t have to. Death’s cloak isolated sounds, annihilating any possibility of any outsider listening in on them.

Natasha turned to him. "Don’t speak too loud just in case. Maria could be standing outside."

He threw one leg over the other and spread his arms along the back of the bench, leaning back with the picture perfect definition of confidence bordering arrogance. "You’re practically their bitch. Why would they bother taking precautions with you?"

Natasha opened her mouth then closed it. The truth was as ugly as it was undeniable—she had willingly walked into the cage. As long as they held the Widows at gunpoint, SHIELD had zero reasons to to treat her like a threat.

"Fuck you."

He glanced down. "Invite yourself."

Natasha stared at him with a blank look, utterly unbothered by the provocation. The truth was, he wouldn’t mind doing something fun while the jet drifted desire way back to SHIELD HQ. The thought must have shown on his face, because her eyes narrowed sharply.

"Unless," he said with a smirk. "You’re a coward—"

She pounced, hitting him with a speed that would have cracked a normal man’s ribs. She straddled his lap in one motion and firmly held his shoulders, her face hovering inches from his. "You think I won’t?"

"Nope. Nat is a big coward."

"Then watch me."

She slid her hands down the front of his shirt as she drew away from his lap, never breaking eye contact. She only stopped when she was crouched between his knees. Her fingers found the waistband of his pants, and she traced its edge slowly and teasingly, building tension in the air. Wearing a confident grin, she unhooked the button with a little flick.

"Don’t go limp on me now, lover boy."

He was, for a moment, genuinely stunned. He hadn’t actually expected the childish bait to work. Natasha Romanoff was too level-headed to fall for such taunts. And yet here she was, on her knees, ready to undress him. He could unpack her reasons later. Right now, getting cold feet wasn’t an option.

Shifting a bit forward on the seat, he raised his hips and shoved both his shorts and boxers down. Telekinesis did the job of tossing them to the side. An half-erect penis twitched under Natasha’s warm breath. She stared at him, momentarily stunned, then her fingers brushed down the length. His cock hardened, prodding at her palm. As the penis slowly grew bigger and thicker, Natasha’s eyes also grew wider.

He reached out with a hand and stroked her head. "Surprised?"

"Just a little," she whispered. "Nothing I can’t handle."

He leaned back in the seat, his eyes half-lidded as Natasha’s fingers wrapped around his girth. Her grip was firm and confident like she was completely in control, which, to be fair, she usually was. She stroked him slowly at first, glancing up through her lashes with a look that made his heart race. Her demeanor was far from a seductress, however, the Red Room had trained her to be one when needed. Right now, that experience showed in spades.

"Do you like my touch?" she asked, brushing her thumb over the sensitive head with every pass, spreading the bead of precum that had already formed. "Does seeing the Black Widow on her knees... strokes that ego?"

He took a deep breath. "Very much."

"I love an honest man," she murmured in a teasing voice. Her breath brushed over his sensitive skin as she leaned closer. "I also envy you a little. Being honest is... it can be harder than torture."

He let out a soft chuckle and brushed her hair. The red strands were silky between his fingers, and he combed through them gently. "Don’t worry. I’ll make an honest wife out of you."

She snorted. "We’ll see about that."

"Hmmm. Have I told you how much I love your hair?"

"No, but you just did."

Natasha’s lips curved into a smile. She leaned in and dragged her tongue slowly along the underside of his cock, from base all the way to the tip, savoring the way he throbbed under her teasing.

"I love a compliment even if it’s a superficial one," she whispered, then took him into her mouth properly. "Mhmm."

The wet heat was immediate and overwhelming. His fingers tightened in her hair as she bobbed her head, taking him deeper with each descent. She was relentless, her tongue working him with expert precision while her hand stroked what her mouth couldn’t reach. Every little hum she made around his shaft filled his mind with fog.

"Fuck, Nat," he groaned. "You’re good at this."

She pulled off just long enough to look up at him through her lashes, her red lips glistening with saliva. "Stop thinking and just feel."

She dove back down, sucking harder, her cheeks hollowing as she took him to the back of her throat. He kept playing with her hair, twisting the strands gently around his fingers. The contrast between her usual sharp wit and the sheer sensuality of what she was doing was driving him crazy.

"You’re enjoying this," he spoke in a rough voice. "The great Black Widow on her knees for me... with SHIELD personnel nearby no less."

Natasha pulled back with a wet pop and stroked him firmly while she caught her breath. "Quiet. You’ll get every man in SHIELD jealous."

"Let them. I’m enjoying the privileges that come with being a groom."

She chuckled before she leaned in and licked a slow stripe up his cock again. "Careful what you wish for. The next thing you know, Silvija and Felicia are hunting me down for stealing your heart. I’ve been hunted enough in life already."

He laughed, still affectionately stroking her hair. "They aren’t the type to be jealous. Besides, my heart is big enough for all of them and you."

"Arrogant bastard," she whispered and took him deep again, faster than the last time.

His grip in her hair tightened as the pleasure built. Soon, he couldn’t hold back anymore. His hand fisted in her red locks and held the back of her head as he thrust up into her mouth. Natasha moaned around his cock, taking it eagerly, bracing herself on his thighs.

Letting a low groan, Dante came hard, spilling his load into her mouth in thick pulses. She swallowed every drop and milked him through it until there was nothing left to be sucked out. This might’ve been her attempt to stop no evidence from spilling on the scene, but the look on her face said she loved the taste as much as the practicality behind her action. Perhaps more than that.

He loosened his grip on her hair, breathing heavily. His eyes were still on hers. "Nat..."

She gave him a firm stroke and pulled back with a wet pop before she planted a long, loving kiss on the crown. "Yes, lover boy?"

"Can you stop calling me that? I’d rather you say husband or honey~."

Her lips curled into a smirk. "I’m not creative with nicknames. I used to call my rifle Widow’s Kiss and my handy gauntlets Widow’s Bite."

"What’s the problem? Those are great names."

"For you."

He extended a hand to help her up. Just as she tried to pull back her hand, he yanked, spun her with a twist of his wrist, and had her drop her into his lap with her back facing his chest. She could’ve easily dodged him. Her reflexes were better than this by miles. But she allowed him to have his way with her.

"What are you trying?"

He kissed the nape of her neck, slowly taking his time, as he slid his right hand down her arm and put it on her belly. "I can’t be the only one who gets fun. Let me return some."

She took a shuddering breath. "Show me how good you are."

Having received her permission, he found the zipper of her bodysuit and tugged it down slowly all the way to her navel. The cool air kissed her skin, making her shudder on his lap. For a few moments, he set his palm against the firm line of her abs and caressed them with all the attention in the world, unexpectedly getting a moan out of her.

"You’ve been working hard," he murmured against her neck. "These deserve a little worship."

"Flatterer." She squirmed, getting agitated under his touch. "We don’t have all day. Start already."

His hand slipped inside the open suit, tugging at the clasp of her bra and unhooking it with a single flick. He leaned around her and bit on the clasp before dragging it out.

She stared at him holding her bra in his mouth. "My SHIELD-issued bra... I don’t know when they’ll get me another."

"I’ll buy you a whole shop."

He dropped the bra on the side and reached his right hand inside her bodysuit, immediately feeling the softness of her breast in his palm. Natasha spread her V-line, revealing a pair of beautiful tits.

"Wow."

"Don’t act like it’s your first time," she said with a smirk, clearly appreciating his reactions. "You wanna suck on them?"

"No, I wanna eat them."

He cupped one breast and brushed a slow circle over the nipple with his thumb until it was erect under his touch. Moving closer, he took the right tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

Natasha’s head tipped back against his shoulder as her breath grew heavier.

He sucked lovingly for a few moments then tugged at her nipple between his teeth. Her reaction was an adorable moan as she dug her fingers into his thighs. His free hand kneaded the other breast, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly when she arched into him. He released the nipple with a wet sound and kissed his way up her chest, her collarbone, her neck, her jaw.

A quick kiss was planted on her cheek. But when he went for another, she turned and made their lips touch awkwardly.

"Nat, stop messing with my pace."

She chuckled. "It’s my body you’re toying with. Let me joke around a bit, alright?"

"No."

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