He Deserves The World, But Im Just A Star.

Tony had been shamelessly flirting with you since the first day he laid eyes on you. Something about Pepper’s innocent little assistant just drove him absolutely nuts.

And those mini skirts you wore around the office? He could have sworn you were doing it just for him. And don’t even get him started on when you wore pants—your ass had never looked better.

So when he finally got you into his bed, he made sure you had the best seat in the house: his face.

You cute little innocent thing, you really thought you were going to hurt him if you put your full weight on him. To prove you wrong, he secured his strong hands around you, pinning you flush against him before he started expertly licking and sucking on your clit. You threw your head back in pure pleasure, the vibration of Tony's low groans echoing underneath you.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been eaten out, but it was definitely the first time a man had devoured you exactly the way God intended.

Tony was utterly lost, taking his sweet time to explore your folds with his expert tongue while his nose nudged at your clit, flicking it to absolute perfection.

Every flick of his tongue was precise, finding the exact rhythm that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. He started sucking on your clit once again, pulling you into his mouth until you were whimpering his name, your hips helplessly rolling against his face.

He had never been so damn hard in his entire life. 

Unable to take it anymore, he slipped one of his hands down to the hem of his briefs, freeing his thick cock.

With your head still thrown back, you opened your heavy eyes, only to catch your reflection in the mirror on the ceiling directly above the bed.

“You like what you see?” Tony mumbled against you, noticing how you immediately bucked your hips against his mouth at the sight.

Your eyes stayed glued to the ceiling mirror, slowly tracking down from his broad chest and marked abs to where his hand was now rhythmically stroking his length. Your cheeks flushed a deep, breathless crimson.

“You like being dirty, don’t you?” he asked, though it sounded a whole lot more like a statement. 

You only bit your lip, nodding as a breathless gasp escaped you. The sheer sight of Tony Stark completely beneath you, driven absolutely crazy just by eating you out, was something you found mind-numbing, extremely hot.

You could stop looking at how he stroked himself. 

Tony smiled against your skin, his chest vibrating with a low laugh. “The shy ones are always the naughtiest,” he murmured, before immediately diving back into his ministrations.

Tony had been shamelessly flirting with you since the first day he laid eyes on you. Something about Pepper’s innocent little assistant just drove him absolutely nuts.

And those mini skirts you wore around the office? He could have sworn you were doing it just for him. And don’t even get him started on when you wore pants—your ass had never looked better.

So when he finally got you into his bed, he made sure you had the best seat in the house: his face.

You cute little innocent thing, you really thought you were going to hurt him if you put your full weight on him. To prove you wrong, he secured his strong hands around you, pinning you flush against him before he started expertly licking and sucking on your clit. You threw your head back in pure pleasure, the vibration of Tony's low groans echoing underneath you.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been eaten out, but it was definitely the first time a man had devoured you exactly the way God intended.

Tony was utterly lost, taking his sweet time to explore your folds with his expert tongue while his nose nudged at your clit, flicking it to absolute perfection.

Every flick of his tongue was precise, finding the exact rhythm that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. He started sucking on your clit once again, pulling you into his mouth until you were whimpering his name, your hips helplessly rolling against his face.

He had never been so damn hard in his entire life. 

Unable to take it anymore, he slipped one of his hands down to the hem of his briefs, freeing his thick cock.

With your head still thrown back, you opened your heavy eyes, only to catch your reflection in the mirror on the ceiling directly above the bed.

“You like what you see?” Tony mumbled against you, noticing how you immediately bucked your hips against his mouth at the sight.

Your eyes stayed glued to the ceiling mirror, slowly tracking down from his broad chest and marked abs to where his hand was now rhythmically stroking his length. Your cheeks flushed a deep, breathless crimson.

“You like being dirty, don’t you?” he asked, though it sounded a whole lot more like a statement. 

You only bit your lip, nodding as a breathless gasp escaped you. The sheer sight of Tony Stark completely beneath you, driven absolutely crazy just by eating you out, was something you found mind-numbing, extremely hot.

You could stop looking at how he stroked himself. 

Tony smiled against your skin, his chest vibrating with a low laugh. “The shy ones are always the naughtiest,” he murmured, before immediately diving back into his ministrations.

Tony’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as his tongue swept against yours. The kiss was intoxicating, all-consuming, the kind that made the rest of the world fade away until there was nothing but the two of you, skin against skin, breath mingling, hearts racing in tandem.

You broke away to trail kisses along his jaw, down the column of his throat, feeling him swallow hard beneath your lips. His fingers dug into your flesh, not quite hard enough to bruise but enough to convey his need, his want, his absolute desperation for more. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he breathed, tilting his head back to give you better access to his neck. You took advantage, sucking a mark just above his collarbone, claiming him in a way that made him groan low in his throat. 

Your hands roamed his body with purpose - tracing the defined muscles of his arms, the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs. Every touch drew a response from him, whether it was a sharp intake of breath, a quiet moan, or the flex of muscles beneath your fingertips. 

“I need you, Tony said, his voice rough with desire. “Need to feel you.”

"Patience," you whispered against his ear, nipping at the lobe. "We have all night."

He groaned in frustration, but there was pleasure in it too - pleasure in the anticipation, in the slow build of tension that made every touch feel electric. You kissed your way back to his mouth, swallowing his protests as your hips rolled against his, drawing a strangled sound from deep in his chest.

The foreplay was exquisite torture, each kiss deeper than the last, each touch more deliberate. Tony's hands explored your body with the same reverence you showed his, mapping every curve, every dip, committing it all to memory as though this was the first time - even though you had done this dance countless times before.

But tonight felt different. There was an edge to it, a rawness that hadn't been there before. Maybe it was the way Tony looked at you, like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered. Maybe it was the way your body responded to his every touch, every whispered word of praise and desire.

When you finally sank down onto him, taking him deep inside you, the dual moan that escaped both your lips was pure ecstasy. You stayed still for a moment, adjusting to the fullness, the perfect stretch, the way he filled you so completely it felt like you were made for each other.

"Move," Tony pleaded, his fingers digging into your hips. "Please, baby, move."

You did, setting a slow, rolling rhythm that had him cursing under his breath. His eyes were locked on yours, pupils blown wide with lust, and you'd never seen anything more beautiful than Tony Stark coming undone beneath you.

As the rhythm built, as the pleasure intensified, you leaned forward, bracing your hands on either side of his head. Your fingers threaded through his dark hair, gripping lightly at first, just enough to tilt his head back.

And that's when it happened.

You pulled, not hard, just a gentle tug and Tony let out the most sinfully sexy moan you had ever heard from him. It was raw and unfiltered, a sound of pure pleasure that went straight to your core and made you clench around him.

His eyes flew open, meeting yours with an intensity that stole your breath.

"Do that again," he gasped, his voice wrecked. "Pull my hair again. Harder."

Your heart raced at the request, at the desperate need in his voice. You tightened your grip in his hair and pulled harder this time, tugging his head back to expose the long line of his throat.

"Fuck!" The moan that tore from him was even better than the first, deeper and more desperate. His hips bucked up into you, driving himself deeper. "Yes, just like that. Don't stop, please don't stop."

The discovery sent a thrill through you. Tony Stark, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, loved having his hair pulled. Loved it enough to beg for it.

You obliged, keeping one hand fisted in his hair, pulling and releasing in rhythm with your movements. Each tug drew another gorgeous sound from him, each moan more desperate than the last. His hands roamed your body frantically, as though he couldn't decide where to touch, what to hold onto.

"You like that?" you asked, your voice husky with arousal. "Like it when I pull your hair?"

"God, yes," he panted, his eyes rolling back slightly when you gave another sharp tug. "Love it. Love everything you do to me."

Emboldened by his response, you shifted your angle, riding him harder, faster, while maintaining your grip on his hair. The combination had him writhing beneath you, a string of curses and moans falling from his lips like a prayer.

Your free hand trailed down his chest, nails dragging lightly over his skin. Tony's reaction was immediate - his back arched off the bed, pushing into your touch, and another one of those sinful moans escaped him.

Interesting.

You did it again, this time with more pressure, raking your nails down his chest hard enough to leave faint red lines in their wake. Tony's response was explosive - his whole body shuddered, his cock twitching inside you, and the moan that ripped from his throat was absolutely filthy.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," he chanted, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave fingerprints. "Your nails - do it again, please."

You leaned forward, changing the angle so you could reach his back, and dragged your nails down the broad expanse of muscle. The scratches were harder this time, deep enough to leave marks that would last for days.

Tony practically sobbed with pleasure, his head thrashing against the pillow. "Yes! Fuck, yes, mark me. Mark me up, baby, I want everyone to see."

The words sent a jolt of possessive pleasure through you. You scratched down his back again, and again, leaving a trail of red lines across his skin. Each scratch drew another moan, another plea for more, and you were more than happy to oblige.

"You're so fucking sexy like this," you told him, your nails digging into his shoulders now, leaving crescent-shaped marks. "So beautiful when you let go."

"More," he begged, his voice breaking. "Harder. I can take it, I want it, please -"

You gave him what he wanted, scratching down his back with enough force to make him cry out. His hands flew to your ass, gripping hard, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, could feel how close he was to the edge.

"That's it," you encouraged, rolling your hips in a way that made him see stars. "You love being marked, don't you? Love having proof that you're mine."

"Yes," he gasped, "yours, all yours, only yours -"

You scratched him again, and his whole body went taut. "Touch yourself," you commanded. "I want to feel you come apart."

But Tony had other ideas. His hands slid from your ass to your hips, and he looked up at you with eyes so dark with lust they were almost black.

"Spank me," he said, and the raw need in his voice made your breath catch. "Please, baby, I need - I need you to spank me."

The request surprised you, but the way he looked at you - vulnerable and desperate and trusting - made heat flood through your entire body. You would give him anything he asked for, anything he needed.

You shifted your position slightly, giving yourself better leverage, and brought your hand down on his ass with a sharp crack.

The sound Tony made was obscene. His eyes rolled back, his mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure, and you felt him pulse inside you.

"Fuck, yes!" he cried out when he found his voice again. "Again, harder, please -"

You spanked him again, and again, each slap drawing the most delicious sounds from him. His ass was turning pink under your palm, and the sight of it - Tony Stark, marked and moaning and begging for more - was the hottest thing you had ever seen.

"You're so beautiful like this," you told him, punctuating your words with another spank. "So fucking gorgeous, taking everything I give you."

"More," he pleaded, his voice wrecked. "Tell me more, please, I need -"

"You're perfect," you said, spanking him again. "So strong, so powerful, and yet here you are, letting me mark you up, letting me make you mine."

Tony moaned, his hands clutching at you desperately. "Yes, yours, mark me, claim me, I want everyone to know -"

You leaned down, your lips brushing his ear as you continued to spank him, each slap harder than the last. "You're the sexiest man alive, Tony Stark. The way you look right now, covered in my marks, moaning for me - god, you're incredible."

"Don't stop," he gasped, his hips bucking up to meet yours. "Don't stop talking, don't stop touching me, I'm so close -"

"You feel so good inside me," you continued, your voice low and sultry. "So big, so perfect, filling me up so well. You were made for this, made for me."

Another spank, harder this time, and Tony cried out. "Fuck, I'm gonna - I can't -"

"Come for me," you commanded, scratching down his chest while spanking his ass, overwhelming him with sensation. "Come for me, beautiful. Let me feel you."

You pulled his hair hard, spanked him one more time, and that was all it took. Tony came with a shout, his whole body convulsing beneath you, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his release. The feeling of him coming undone, the sounds he made, the way he looked at you like you were his entire world - it pushed you over the edge too.

Your orgasm crashed over you in waves, intense and all-consuming, and you collapsed against his chest, both of you trembling and gasping for breath. Tony's arms wrapped around you immediately, holding you close as you both came down from the high.

"Holy shit," he breathed after a long moment, his voice still shaky. "That was - that was the best sex I've ever had."

You lifted your head to look at him, seeing the truth of his words in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He cupped your face, pulling you down for a soft, sweet kiss that was such a contrast to the intensity of moments before. "You're amazing. Absolutely amazing."

You smiled against his lips. "You're not so bad yourself, Stark."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I love you," he said, suddenly serious. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you replied, meaning it with every fiber of your being.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, exchanging lazy kisses and gentle touches. Eventually, you shifted off him, and that's when you got your first good look at his back.

The scratches were vivid red lines crisscrossing his skin, some deeper than others, all of them clearly visible. His ass bore the imprint of your hand, pink and slightly raised. He was thoroughly marked, claimed, yours.

"Jesus," you breathed. "Tony, your back -"

"Is perfect," he finished, craning his neck to try to see. "Absolutely perfect."

You traced one of the scratches gently, and he shivered. "They're going to last for days."

"Good." The satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable. "I want them to last. Want to see them every time I look in the mirror, want to feel them every time I move. Want to remember this, remember you, remember how good you make me feel."

Your heart swelled with affection for this man, this brilliant, complicated, wonderful man who trusted you enough to be vulnerable, to ask for what he wanted, to let you see him like this.

"Come on," you said softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "Let's get cleaned up and then we can sleep."

"In a minute," Tony murmured, pulling you back down against him. "Just want to hold you for a minute."

You settled against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and felt completely, utterly content.

________________________________________________________________

The next morning, you woke to an empty bed. Frowning, you pulled on one of Tony’s shirts and padded out of the bedroom, following the sound of voices to the common area. 

And stopped dead in your tracks. 

Tony was standing in the kitchen, shirtless, his back to the room as he made coffee. The scratches you had left on him were even more visible in the morning light - vivid red lines that stood out starkly against his skin, impossible to miss. 

Steve, Natasha, and Clint were all staring, various expressions of shock and amusement on their faces. 

“Stark,” Steve said, his voice strangled. “Your back -”

“What about it?” Tony asked casually, turning around with two mugs of coffee. He spotted you in the doorway and his whole face lit up. “Morning, beautiful. Coffee?”

You walked over to him, very aware of everyone’s eyes on you. Tony handed you a mug and then, bold as brass, turned around to grab the cream from the fridge, giving everyone another clear view of his marked-up back. 

“Rough night?” Natasha asked, her lips twitching with amusement. 

“Best night of my life, actually,” Tony replied without a hint of embarrassment. He turned back around, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Absolutely incredible.”

Clint choked on his coffee. Steve’s face was bright red. Natasha just laughed. 

“You’re not even going to try to hide them?” you asked quietly, though you already knew the answer. 

Tony looked at you with such open affection it made your heart skip. "Why would I hide them? I'm proud of them. Proud that you marked me, proud that everyone can see I belong to you." He pressed a kiss to your temple. "Besides, they're sexy as hell."

"You're impossible," you said, but you were smiling.

"You love it," he countered, and he was right.

You did love it. Loved him. Loved that he was confident enough, secure enough, to wear your marks with pride. Loved that he didn't care what anyone else thought, as long as you knew how he felt.

"I'm going to go put on a shirt," Steve announced, standing abruptly. "And possibly bleach my eyes."

"Don't be such a prude, Rogers," Tony called after him. "It's just a few scratches."

"A few?" Clint muttered. "Looks like you got in a fight with a tiger."

"Better than a tiger," Tony said, pulling you closer. "Much, much better."

Natasha raised her coffee mug in a toast. "Good for you, Stark. It's about time someone put you in your place."

Tony grinned. "Best decision I ever made, letting her."

You buried your face in his shoulder, half embarrassed and half delighted by his shameless display. But as his arms tightened around you, as you felt the scratches on his back beneath your fingers, you couldn't help but feel a surge of possessive satisfaction.

He was yours. Marked, claimed, and absolutely, completely yours.

And he wanted everyone to know it.

Later, as you sat together on the couch, Tony's head in your lap while you ran your fingers through his hair (gently this time), he looked up at you with those warm brown eyes and smiled.

"Thank you," he said softly.

"For what?"

"For giving me what I needed. For not judging me. For loving me exactly as I am."

You leaned down to kiss him, pouring all your love into it. "Always," you promised. "I'll always love you exactly as you are."

And as Tony's hand came up to cup your cheek, as he smiled against your lips, you knew that this - this beautiful, kinky, wonderful man - was exactly where you were meant to be.

The scratches on his back would fade eventually, but the memory of this night, the trust and intimacy you had shared, the way he had opened himself up to you completely - that would last forever.