He moved toward Natasha, and in three long strides, he was standing in front of her. She folded into herself, her shoulders bunching forward protectively. She whimpered as if frightened he would hit her.
"If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so a long time. So, calm down," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.
He pulled her forward until she was flush against his body. His hold was light, and he leaned down so that his lips were beside her ear.
"I'll be back, Natasha. We are not done yet," he whispered harshly, then wrapped his hand in her hair, twisting it around his fingers, and pulling her head backward.
Unexpectedly, he crashed his lips to hers. The kiss was hard, fast, and bruising, meant to let her know that she was his. Only him.
Natasha let out a gasp when he licked the seams of her lips.
He bit sucked and kissed until he was satisfied that she understood.
