Gore: Winterwidow

Chapter 9: Hit

James opened the door to his penthouse a little less forcefully than he normally would have if it had just been himself. He growled slightly in triumph as Natasha followed him inside and he shut the door slowly, his eyes gleaming in the dark. She was so breathtaking, even when the lights were out. Her skin was fair and bright and her hair seemed to be a true flame that took everything inside him not to attack.

Natasha looked around the enormous, luxurious room and hummed quietly, as if she was taking in a work of art. It was large, but being by himself had seemed to have a sort of humbling feeling around his aloneness.

"You've got a nice place for a bastard like yourself," she commented and shrugged off her cherry red petri coat. "It suits you."

James circled around her silently and couldn't take his intense gaze off of Natasha's perfect everything. She was about to feel the agony of restraint and patience be unleashed upon her, that was for sure as hell.

He took her coat for her and placed it on a hanging rack next to the door, the moon and city lights illuminating his hard features. He then slowly turned back to face her and their eyes clashed in the dark, both bright red and jade green.

"Thanks," he said simply, inwardly thinking that she was the nicest thing by far in this dump. "Would you like a drink? Or have you had enough tonight already..."

That made the ginger chuckle and she seated herself at his bar. Money had accumulated over the years and years of saving and working, so it paid off pretty well.

"Oh no, I can drink it all, honestly. I guess years of no self restraint got me to the point where I can't feel a lot anymore..."

"Well then," James hummed as he slid around the counter opposite her, still gazing intensely at Romanoff as he started to brew up a concoction. "You're Russian, I'm guessing. I know it's never been disclosed, but that just seems like your nature."

"Why? Is it the looks? Cause that seems to be all that you're interested in," Natasha sleuthed as she accepted the drink and sipped it thoughtfully.

James took a sip of his own and sighed airly. She could be so infuriating, he absolutely ADORED her! He rested his arms on the counter and leaned across it so that their faces were pretty close now. Natasha's push, ruby lips were just BEGGING to be devoured, as was the rest of her...

"I don't desire you just because of your flawless appearance, although that is definitely a motivating factor," the vampire growled as he watched her calmly sip her drink. "You drive me insane, Romanoff... I can't handle it anymore. You are smart, witty, and a downright bitch. I love it."

"I'm glad I have that effect on you because you deserve to be desperate for once. Living such a long life with women constantly seeking after you kinda turns you into a jackass after a while, huh?" Natasha smirked slightly as she finished her drink. "I appreciate the compliments, but don't think I haven't been told all that before."

James growled again and sipped on his cocktail as well, feeling frustrated now. Of course she'd turn this all against him, she was so... gah! To hell with all the pleasantries and banter, he was DONE waiting! He moved forward swiftly and took her face with his hand, pulling her across the counter. Romanoff sighed and pulled away, shaking her head sadly.

"Men," she huffed. She then moved over to James's best chaise and sat down comfortably on it, beckoning the vampire over to her. "Come here, Barnes."

James couldn't help but obey and he moved over slowly, stopping to hover in front of her enticing posture, making his head spin slightly. He held his breath as she reached up to grip his collar and pull him onto her lap so that he straddled her waist. Oh yes.