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Phil had just finished taking a shower when there was an insistent knocking on his door. Grumbling to himself, he tugged on a pair of sweat and slung his towel across his bare shoulders.
“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he muttered as the knocking sounded again. He peered through the peephole and was amazed to see the person waiting on the other side.
“Now this is a surprise,” he said when he opened the door, smirking.
Melinda May rolled her eyes as she pushed past him into his apartment, shrugging out of her coat and draping it over his armchair. She was wearing a stunning blue lace number that had him running his eyes over her body appreciatively.
“I take it the date with the shrink didn’t go as planned then,” he said to her, as he shut the door.
The dark haired specialist huffed. “He spent most of dinner subtly psychoanalysing me,” she replied, turning. She held up a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag, shaking it slightly. “I thought I could take you up on your offer, though.”
Her dark eyes were mischievous and held a spark of something he couldn’t quite identify.
“Not exactly what I had in mind but I’ll get the glasses,” he said, turning to walk into his kitchen and internally cursing himself for wearing sweats. He was already half-hard and they hadn’t even begun yet.
‘Just calm down, Phil. Just be cool. This is one thing you definitely don’t want to fuck up,’ he thought as he pulled the glasses from a cupboard.
He returned to find her sunk into his comfortable couch, one leg seductively draped over the other. He couldn’t tell if it was unintentional or if she was just trying to tease him for that botched mission. Either way, it was definitely working for him. He perched on the edge and poured them each a few fingers and then handed her the glass. Her fingers brushed his and he just barely managed to tamp down on his shiver.
She’d probably tease him endlessly if he said it, but Melinda was one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever met, and he’d dreamed about this moment far more than was healthy.
‘No need to get nervous, Phil. You both want this, she’s dropped endless hints about it. Be calm, Phil,’ his subconscious murmured.
He didn’t notice that he’d finished his drink until she plucked the empty glass from his fingers and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. She slipped into his lap, running her fingers up his bare chest and glancing down at him with heavy-lidded eyes.
“What’s a girl gotta do to get you to make the first move, Phil?” she murmured, rocking down against his lap in a slow grind.
He gritted his teeth against the moan that wanted to leave his throat. He wanted to reply with a smartass comment, but he would much rather focus on the fact that he had Melinda May in his lap, mouthing at his neck. The lace of her dress was scratchy where it brushed his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when she was pressed so tightly against him, surprisingly softer than he thought she’d be.
“Sorry,” he finally murmured, dragging his fingertips down her sides before gripping her hips tightly. “If you think I talk too much, you wouldn’t want to hear my thoughts.”
She chuckled lowly, nipping his earlobe mischievously. “We’re about to head down a road we can’t turn back from, Phil. All the way. Are you sure you’re ready?” she asked teasingly.
Her dark eyes were blown wide with arousal and there was no way he was going to let her leave now. “Definitely,” he murmured, running one hand up her body to cup the back of her neck, drawing her into a fierce kiss.
Melinda hummed against his mouth, scratching her nails through his hair. He tasted like the cheap whiskey they’d been drinking, and for some reason she found it tasted even better on his tongue. She pulled back when the need for air was burning her lungs, flushed and panting. Phil groaned softly, running his hands over her body.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he mumbled, hands attacking the zipper at her back and Melinda felt herself smirk.
In all the time they’d known each other, she’d never once heard him curse. It was interesting (and a little arousing) to hear from Mr. Protocol himself.
He pulled her dress over her head while she was lost in thought, and Melinda didn’t think that anything could feel better than his fingers on her bare skin. It was as though sparks followed his fingertips as he dragged them over her sides and cupped her breasts over her bra, squeezing tightly, forcing a gasp from her.
One of his hands disappeared behind her back, and she smirked. “I swear to god if you take longer than a minute this time I’m going to leave your ass right here,” she muttered.
He pulled back and grinned at her. “I’ll have you know that I have learned quite a bit since that mission,” he replied, and Melinda was pleasantly surprised when her bra was discarded in thirty seconds.
“Hmm, one-handed, too? Did you practise that move just for me, Coulson?” she whispered in his ear, running her fingers down his chest and tangling them in the coarse hairs there.
He grunted slightly, sliding his fingers into her hair and tugging her head back slightly. Melinda moaned when his hot mouth descended on her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin ruthlessly.
“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you because it would just make your giant ego even bigger,” he replied, his words muffled against her skin.
Melinda chuckled slightly, but she was getting impatient. She wanted him now.
Phil groaned when she suddenly bucked against his hips and he gripped her tightly to prevent her from moving again.
“You really don’t know how to enjoy foreplay, do you, May,” he said, slipping one hand inside her panties to squeeze her ass. He dropped his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth, grazing his teeth gently against her sensitive nub.
“I think you just like to draw things out unnecessarily,” she bit out, unable to stop a pleasured whine from escaping her as he drew more of her breast into his mouth.
“That’s okay,” he murmured, “I can show you all the things I’ve learned since last time.”
He flipped them and laid her out on his couch, taking his time to run his hands over her body slowly. He nipped playfully at her hipbone, his fingers deftly removing her underwear. Phil kissed his way slowly back up her body, detouring to suck briefly at her breasts again, before capturing her mouth in another fierce kiss. Melinda panted against him, and she cried out softly when he ran his thumb along her slit, up to circle her clit firmly, and down to tease at her entrance.
“Fucking hell, Phil,” she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut.
He smirked, pushing first one, then two fingers into her. Melinda groaned against the pressure, feeling her muscles begin to twitch and jerk as he slowly fucked her with his fingers.
Phil’s smirk was smug as he watched her, and she wished more than anything that she could wipe the stupid expression from his face without disrupting his work between her legs.
The next thing Melinda knew, she was arching with her loudest scream yet, her hand flying down to grip his wrist tightly.
“What’s the matter, babe? Too much?” Phil asked, ghosting his mouth over her pounding pulse. There was a flicker of doubt, wondering if he’d possibly hurt her, but Melinda moaned and scraped her nails through his hair, pushing her hips into his hand.
“Do that again,” she mumbled, her gaze focused between her legs, on his fingers buried in her cunt.
Phil grinned, and his free hand twined in her hair, forcing her to look at him. She whimpered when he grazed the little rough patch inside her again, the pads of his fingers moving insistently against it now. It felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Her back arched and her eyes fluttered shut of their own accord, but he tugged at her lower lip.
“Look at me, Melinda,” he said, his voice hoarse.
The brunette forced her eyes open, gazing up into the intoxicating blue ones staring down at her. Her entire body suddenly jerked when his thumb returned to her clit, and she let out an almost embarrassing shout of pleasure.
“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck,” she chanted breathlessly, digging her nails into the cushions of his couch. “Phil-!”
It didn’t take much longer for her to come. Phil pulled his fingers together in a move that had dark veils drawing across her vision, her body locking up with her climax. Though she couldn’t actually remember screaming, her mouth was dry and throat hoarse when she finally came back to herself. Her entire body ached pleasantly, and she sank gratefully into the soft cushions beneath her, sighing softly.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he worshipped her body with kisses.
“Okay, you have learned quite a bit since that mission,” she finally admitted, opening her eyes to look up at him, rolling her eyes at the smug grin that he was wearing again.
“Told you,” he replied, nuzzling her ear, “now come on, we aren’t finished yet.”
Melinda groaned as he pulled her off the couch, leading her down the short hall and into his bedroom. He tugged her close once they were standing next to his bed, tangling his hands in her hair as he kissed her feverishly.
She sighed against his lips, running her fingers over his chest eagerly. His mouth broke from her own, running down her neck to nip and suck. Desire flashed unbearably through her again, and she reached down, tugging at his sweats.
“Off,” she muttered breathlessly, biting her lip when he obeyed immediately and pushed his sweats away, revealing his cock. He wasn’t very long, but he was thick and hot in her hand when she grasped him, and the way he tightened his arms around her when she touched him had her smirking.
“Melinda,” he ground out, and she couldn’t help it when her smirk widened into a grin.
She dragged her hand up and down his length for a few times, enjoying the fact that he was completely at her mercy this time.
“Condom?” she asked him, tiptoeing to nip at his earlobe.
“I, fuck, uh, drawer behind you,” he gasped out, and though she was loathe to do so, she let go of him and turned to begin rifling through his nightstand.
She returned to him triumphantly, holding up the little foil packet. Phil grinned, wrapping his arms around her and making to lower her to his bed. Melinda shook her head, resisting.
Instead she turned and pushed him down, smirking at his look of surprise when she climbed on top of him.
“I’m always on top,” she murmured in his ear, dark hair tickling his nose and cheeks.
Phil looked up at her with blown pupils and a flushed face. In the back of her mind, Melinda marvelled at just how red he’d turned.
“No complaints here,” he rasped, his hands gripping her waist tightly.
She ripped the condom open with her teeth, shifting back so she could apply it to his cock. Phil hissed when she touched him, his hips bucking involuntarily. Melinda bit her lip when she aligned them, his tip just brushing against her soaked sex.
“Lin,” he gasped, tugging on her hips and begging her to stop teasing.
She sinks down on him slowly, relishing the slow stretch and that amazing fullness that he was giving her. She starts a slow rhythm, rocking against him and relishing in his groans. She was pretty sure she was going to have bruises on her hips when they were finished, but it would be well worth it.
Melinda leaned forward, kissing a path up his chest and neck, teasing at his earlobe before she sealed their mouths together again. He buried one hand in her hair again, practically devouring her lips and tongue as they traded messy kisses. Her pace quickened as he started thrusting up from beneath her, brushing up against that spot that made spots appear behind her eyelids.
“Fucking hell, Melinda,” he groaned as he broke away from her mouth and she clenched around him involuntarily, a whine leaving her throat.
Phil slipped one hand down her body, thumb finding her clit and stroking gently. She arched at that, a short half-scream that melted into a sharp moan escaping her when he tightened the hand in her hair, tugging at her roots. Her hips stuttered as he continued to circle her oversensitive bundle of nerves, and he thrust into her deeply, the tip of his cock brushing her g-spot again.
Melinda cried out as she came so hard she saw stars, her nails digging into his chest as she panted and groaned softly, overwhelmed with sensation. Dimly, she was aware of when he came too, her name a groan on his lips and his hands flying to her hips again as he gripped her tightly, emptying himself into the condom. She collapsed, boneless on top of him, her face pillowed in the crook of his neck. Phil was smoothing his warm palms up and down her back as they basked in the lingering euphoria of their orgasms.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he gently rolled her to the side, heading to the bathroom to get rid of the condom and pull on some boxers. Melinda hefted herself up and looked around his room. It was clean and neatly organized, but there was a faded t-shirt that hung off the foot of his bed, and she grabbed it and pulled it over her head. He returned to find her curled into the pillows, lightly dozing. Her hair was mussed and her cheeks flushed, and he’d be lying if he said she wasn’t the most gorgeous sight he’d ever seen.
Phil crawled into the bed next to her, tugging the covers up around them and nestling behind her.
“So,” he murmured, “do you admit that I have game now?”
Melinda snorted. “I’m never going to admit that you have game, Phil,” she said, turning to look at him over her shoulder, her gaze smouldering again. “But I will say that you’re much better with your hands than I thought you’d be.”