Dean expected the bra to match the underwear, and he's far from disappointed. It's enough of a sight that he pauses for a moment in his efforts to relieve Natasha of her clothes, his fingers working along one lacy edge around the curve of her breast. A lazy smirk curves his lips at both her consideration and her compliment, one that mellows into an expression of appreciation as she turns her own attention to his chest, a soft grunt emphasizing his opinion on the matter as those lips close around his nipple. Of the many advantages of continuing an affair with one particular woman, one of the best has got to be the fact that she knows where all his sensitive spots are.

And she knows that he has a taste for this look, made even better by how ruffled and partially undone as it is now. She's every bit of a hot mess after what he's done to her, and there's nothing better than a hot mess that he's made. It definitely won't be too long before he's ready to go another round at this rate.

"Mmm, you're welcome to work my pole in whatever shoes you want, baby." He's teasing a little, but there's still a seductive purr to his voice. He's not wasting any more time in slipping his hands behind her, catching onto the clasps holding her bra in place. It only takes a few seconds for him to deftly unhook them with well-practiced ease, and though his view is partially obscured he likes the way her breasts bounce as they're freed from the restraint. It's enough to distract him from working on the skirt, because he doesn't wait to wait that long to get his hands on them, fingers cupping around those outer curves while his thumbs stroke across her nipples.

"So, should I wait for you in bed or should I catch you at the bathroom sink?"

It hasn't escaped his notice that there's a nice big mirror in front of that sink, and he does like to watch her as he fucks her from behind.