Niamh didn't want to stop either. She wouldn't have protested being literally swept off her feet. She sure didn't protest being metaphorically swept off her feet and Tony was certainly on his way to doing that properly. Her hands gripped to his tee shirt, fisting the fabric against his back.

Except, dinner.

Well. They could eat later.

"Tony," she whispered, his name coming out like a question, "would you be very insulted if we skipped dinner?" Usually she wasn't so bold, but well, Tony Stark made Niamh Oliver a little bit fearless.