Princess Of The Universe

Bare skin damp with sweat and chests heaving with exertion, they collapsed side by side, Natasha’s long dark hair fanning out against the plush white pillows that Jake so proudly kept in pristine condition. They were too exhausted to move, too exhausted to speak, too exhausted to do much of anything beyond lay staring at the ceiling, naked legs entwined in the wrinkled sheets.

She turned her head slightly, just enough so that she could take him in out of the corner of her eye. His eyes were closed, and so she found herself gazing, transfixed, at the tiny bead of sweat trickling down the side of his neck.

She shouldn’t want him as badly as she did. She was wading into dangerous waters. Yet even so, even as she knew that she was headed for certain disaster, she couldn’t imagine turning back to the safety of shore.

“You’re quiet tonight, Minx,” Jake drawled, cracking one green eye open as he gazed down at her. “Did I finally render you speechless?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, barely resisting the urge to punch him in the side. “Hardly, Bagman,” she retorted, though for once she found herself unable to come up with any kind of clever barb to toss his way.

He seemed to realize that, which only made his cocky smirk grow wider as he sat up slightly. “It’s okay, Phoenix. No shame in needing a little extra recovery time.”

This time, she did go to punch him, but he caught her fist in his hand before she could make proper impact. He tutted softly, grinning at the irritated look on her face.

“Be nice,” he told her in a low voice, his tone suddenly husky and laced with something that made her blood grow hot.

Huffing quietly, she lay still beside him, but slowly averted her gaze. It took a couple moments for her to realize that he still hadn’t let go of her hand.

She was about to pull it out of his grasp when she noticed, with a surprised start, that he was gently playing with her fingers, his calloused fingertips ghosting against hers before trailing downwards, tracing each of her knuckles and then drawing absentminded shapes on her palm.

Natasha knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as she was, but she couldn’t help it. From the way Jake was gazing up at the ceiling, it appeared as though he wasn’t even truly conscious of what he was doing. But she didn’t want him to stop.

He seemed to be able to read her thoughts, because suddenly he was staring down at her, that intense green gaze fixed on her face as his fingers stilled against hers. Still holding her hand in his grasp, he maintained eye contact with her as he lifted her fingers to his lips, pressing slow kisses to them.

She felt her chest tighten and her stomach clench at his movements, her fingertips tingling from where his lips had brushed against them.

This was too much. Too much. She had to get away, she thought, as she pulled her hand back, feeling like it somehow no longer belonged to her.

“Nat—”

“I have to go.”