Finish the Mission!

“This mission’s over when I decide so.”

She was built to accomplish the impossible, molded by years of seeing the mission to the end no matter the cost.

Black Widow pushed herself up with one arm and crouched on a knee, every inch of her poised and sharp. Far from feeling ****, she felt primal. Like an enraged bull seconds from ****, vying to plunge its horns into the matador that would destroy it. Some traitorous bitch was about to be dragged away from a high security embassy by a pissed off naked Russian. The more Natasha said it to herself, the more she liked the sound of it.

Fire rose up deep within her.

“No,” she told herself. Save it for the fight. Now was the time to think. She eased the muscles of her body and sat back cross-legged. She looked down at herself. She saw arms snaked with vein and muscle. She saw beads of sweat rolling down her boobs, dangling off her inflamed tits. She saw naked, powerful thighs. She saw cut abs rising and falling; purring like a V-8 ready to cut loose. She saw a tiny slit of fire over herself. She blew air from her nostrils harshly.

“For the fight. For the kill.”

She’d never felt like such an animal. She balled up her feelings with her.

First, she needed to…