When his mouth finally met hers, she tried to prolong the kiss, but he apparently wasn’t having any of it. By the fourth time he bit her neck, she fisted her hand in his hair and tugged. Her eyes snapped. “You don’t get to mark me. You have to earn that.”
He moaned softly at the slight pain. “God damn…how do I earn that privilege?” he asked, interested, feeling himself getting more aroused every second. His hands ran up and down her sides, his thumbs stopping at her breasts and feeling their way before going back down to her waist and repeating.
Under his hands goosebumps rose, following the trace of heat he left behind. “You have to — mmmm — be invited. Impress me.” This time she initiated the kiss, delicate and slow. Into his mouth, she whispered, “My lover is Tony Stark. You will have to go a long way to impress me.”