A.N: considering no one seems to review these, it'll more than likely be removed.
Jane had come into contact with the Aether two weeks before the alignment of worlds. The Dark Elves still remain in stasis because their sleep cycle is programmed to the convergence and not the Aether, everyone thinks that she would die. All she wants now is a little comfort before she meets her maker. This comfort is denied... and her desires darken. DomJane SubLoki.
WARNING MATURE READERS ONLY
~domJane ~subLoki ~Loki and Jane do what they want
Valhalla
The First Visit
Skin Starved
A woman stands before the barrier of his prison cell, face hooded from view, covered entirely in a shimmery blue Asgardian cloak. At first glance, Loki thought it was Frigga come to discreetly pay her monthly visit, however, this woman is far shorter than his not-mother. Suspicious by this unexpected guest, he rises regally from his seated position and casually approaches the barrier. Casting his gaze along the hallway and farther down the entryway, the Prince realizes that the hour must be late. The inner guards had departed for their nightly rounds.
Setting his hands behind his back, regarding the figure below him, his lips slowly flatten as frustrated anger floods his senses. Affronted by such insolence from a pathetic peasant, Loki hisses in disdain, "A serving maid come to gawk at the imprisoned Prince? Only to gossip the horrific encounter to a benign soiree of compassionate friends?"
The figure remains mum.
Aggravated by the lack of response, he squares his shoulders, "Let's see if you can see me now?" The prison cell remains exactly the same, but the Jotun simmered away from sight.
Pleased by the way the female jerks slightly in surprise, Loki smugly returns to his chair and resumes reading.
"Quantum decoherence...You just generated differing frequencies of light particles to bounce around you like - wave interference! That's amazing. You managed to create a perfect deflection to the point where entanglement is invisible to the naked eye."
Attention reverting yet again to the woman, Loki remains silently cautious. The references he understood from her jumble of babble seem to correlate with the enumerated effects caused by invisibility spells. Never before has he heard magic briefly explained in such Midgardian terms. That oddly familiar tone of voice was sharp, precise, and full of awe.
Suddenly, he knows precisely who it is that stands before him.
Thor's woman.
Jane Foster.
His curiosity piques.
What is she doing here?
A small hand slips out from the cloak and hovers an inch away from the golden barrier. The Midgardian examines the way yellow light reflects off her palm, and then, she closes the distance between flesh and electrically charged particles of transparent wall. Morbidly amused by her ignorance, Loki expects the female to be electrocuted upon contact, but when she presses her hand against the glowing force field... it does nothing, except to stretch thinly around reddening skin, easy as can be, like parting through a waterfall.
All outward traces of her passage was the strings of red matter flowing under her skin, then it disappears from sight. No pain was evident by her crossing.
He wants that power now, yet he desires freedom more.
In a sudden rush of clarity, Loki knew this was an opportune moment to escape the confines of his prison. Heart racing, he creates a silencing spell around the boundaries of his cell, sends out a dark mist to confuse the mortal, and summons another invisibility spell to block all intent from the outside world.
Surging forward, wrapping a hand around Jane's neck; a violent explosion sends him sailing, colliding head first into the wall behind him. Shocked and disoriented from the impact, he stares wide eyed at the collapsed mortal on the floor, and then at the reddening hand that touched her flesh.
Loki watches as the mortal struggles to righten herself. Her hood tumbles away to reveal light brown hair in disarray around a comely face. Snarling at her in anger, he scrambles forward and tries again to snag her head in a bruising hold. Red miasma ripples through her, turning her eyes pitch black, and he's slammed into the wall a second time.
The wind is knocked out of his lungs, and Loki sat there, trying to work the air back into them.
He couldn't breathe.
His hand stings painfully. Staring down at the pulsing ache, his palm is scorched raw with bubbling blisters and discharged whiffs of reddish black smoke. The smell of cooked meat sickens him. With a wave and flick of his bloodied wrist, the injured mess slowly fades as new skin replaces old. Flecks of blood disintegrates into glittering greens and golds, and sparkles away.
It takes the female far longer to regain footing.
As she approaches his prone figure, Loki finally takes a short hitch of breath. It was an excruciating task in its simplicity, and he struggles for each stuttering gasp. Something is dangerously wrong with her; never had he felt such power from a mortal, not even that green beast possessed such malevolent force in one blow.
Ears ringing, Loki hulls himself off the floor and into a sitting position. In his dazed state, his folded legs are spread wide apart and a weight settles upon his lap, settles firmly around his hips.
'What just happened?' He thought bemusedly.
A monotonous voice answered his unspoken inquiry, "That was the Aether..."
Tilting his head minutely, concentrating on the muffled words, "The what?"
"Your father, Odin, told me it was a parasitic weapon created by the Dark Elves to bring the universe into darkness..."
Blinking his vision back into focus, Loki discovers that which weighs him down was none other than Thor's woman...Jane Foster.
Peering at him jadedly, she rests her wrists against his shoulders, causing his hackles to rise.
"He's not my father!" He spits out savagely, loathing the very thought of the man who spurned him, who denied him everything, even the sweet mercy of death.
Jane tilts her head, staring at him, silently judging him, all the while curling a strand of inky black hair between her fingers. Confused by her bold behavior, Loki presses his hands against her ribcage, determined to remove her from his person; then hesitates before thought turned into action.
He says scathingly, "Let me guess. This 'Aether' is consuming your immortal soul, and if violence is turned against you, it detonates; a defenseman against your aggressors."
"Exactly." She says primly, "And if you so much as tickle me with murderous intent, you'll be slamming deeper into the wall behind you."
Loki glares bloody murder, then comes to a realization. "What? Do you think I have the power to cure you?" He laughs heartlessly, "I have no intentions of goodwill towards anyone; especially not the likes of you, and even if I did, there's a lack of equipment in this cell for me to provide any form of assistance."
Her face is shadowed by her mused hair. "I didn't ask for your help," she says flatly. "There's doctors here for that."
The maiden's voice was laced with doubt and a sliver of fear, this hint of uncertainty does not prevent her from rocking her hips against him. "Just shut your mouth and let me use you."
Stunned by her audacious command, he feels her shift a second time: slower, deeper, and then a third.
Thin arms wrap around his shoulders, and because principle demands it, he snarls his objection at her touch. Capturing her wrists, he yanks them from him - the Aether reacts, and he's slammed into the white wall, still clutching her arms, and he berates himself because he knew this would happen.
She lays limply beside him, forehead tucked against his straining neck. Loki loosens his grip and feels his arms go slack, falling beside him in exhaustion. The stabbing pain in his back was unendurable and it ripples down into his limbs. He hasn't felt this sort of abuse in over a year.
A moment slips by, and Jane's coming to.
He's still stunned, and surprised, and bizarrely stimulated by the encounter.
Slender arms repositions around his shoulders and he feels her rocking yet again. Looking up at the ceiling of his plain boring cell, he feels groin meeting groin, harsher than before, and Loki subconsciously shifts his hips to feel more of the rough sensation. It overrides the pain, and she's gasping her approval. His mouth falls open and his eyes flutter shut; he has no idea why she's doing this... but he hasn't felt 'this' particular friction in over three years... and a new ache stirs.
"Let's play a game, Loki." Jane whispers persuasively against his neck.
Weary of the shift in her, he gulps down the saliva pooling in his mouth and rasps out, "What are you-"
Leaning back against his outstretched thighs, Jane quietly interrupts him with a demand, "Take off your shirt."
What sort of game is she playing?
Loki licks his lips, "What if I said no?"
"Then I'll make you," she threatens.
"And how will you accomplish such a feat?"
The inquisitive note in his voice spurs her on, "By force."
Loki lets out a shaky laugh, surprisingly amused by her bravado.
He doesn't comply with her demands.
Jane bucks against him more forcefully than before and Loki could feel... oh how he feels her...
"Take it off and let me touch you," she murmurs raggedy as her hands run down his chest and under the layers of his coat.
Gobsmacked, he lays there, unsure about his choices.
Remembering his observation of Thor's woman from Erik Selvig's mind, Jane Foster was the epitome of a prim and proper Midgardian maiden. Not forward when it came to men and very passionate about her goals, her work encompasses every spectrum of her life, making her appear boring for the lowbrows of her race and too knowledgeable to comfortably contend with for the higher ups.
How Thor fit into her life he knew not. The Thunderer was the opposite of knowledgeable, and the only thing that made 'him' unique in her eyes was probably his physique and potential access to alien technology.
Looking back further, he recalls in Erik's memories, that Jane had shared her pleasures with but one other bedmate, and that the mentor did not approve of it. A man by the name of Donald Blake. Though this male was equal in intelligence as she, his sexual preference was questionable, and his attentions towards Jane Foster was highly dubious in nature.
The lone memory of special note from the old scholar was the last year of her university education, during the heyday of her time with Blake, and one of the most problematic for the elder. The visibility of a bite mark covered beneath a scarf, and red welts caused by bindings marring her wrists, stirred many upsetting confrontations between the two. At the end of her graduation, she lost contact with the good doctor, and focused all her time and resources on her theory.
An ingeniously brilliant theory that Selvig borrowed to create the portal for his failed invasion...
A small mouth presses against his neck, momentarily scattering his thoughts.
"Be my good little boy, take it off now, I know you want to play."
His face flushes at the melodic sound of her enticing voice. This promiscuous thing cradling his lap was an aspect of her nature kept hidden from her mentor, as well it should. At the moment, she has currently divested him of his coat, but was unsuccessful in progressing any further than that. Upon realizing her attempt was for naught, she cut corners by sneaking sharp little nails up the skin of his stomach, around his ribcage, and directly down the middle of his spine.
Loki failed to realize until this very moment, how ravenously skin starved he truly was.
The contact of another felt sublime, though he would never admit it out loud.
The maiden's hooked fingers insistently tugs at the base of his garments, and Loki numbingly complies at its removal from his person. First the long sleeved, then the short, and he was bare from the waist up to do with as she pleases.
She's warming him up to the idea of seduction.
It has been too long since sexual contact with another, and expecting an eternity of this maddening isolation... To silently suffer in the confinement of this Hel, trying to piece together the broken fragments of his mind and shattered heart. Nay, this sweet repose of the soul would not lay forgotten on the wayside.
Hesitantly curious, Loki plants his hands high against the woman's waist and drags them low against her hips.
The Aether did not stir.
Slowly, he begins to shift his hips upward to match her pitch down. His second thrust is more earnest than the first. Her heated sighs along his chest, makes him feel uncomfortable, and suddenly, she latches sharp little teeth against his collarbone.
She's so unpleasantly hot that he's sweating.
Teeth scrapping harshly, clamping tightly, sucking and licking...
Hissing at the sensation, a tingle of desire courses through him as he anchors his feet on the floor while Jane continuously rotates over his growing ache. The force of her movement pushes him rhythmically up against the wall. And he can't believe just how soothing it felt.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Her gasping moan slowly rises in pitch at his lengthening.
"You're so aroused," she cues beside his neck. Arching up, her tongue darts out and circles the curve of his ear, sucking at his lobe with that hot mouth.
He refuses a verbal response to the blatantly obvious affect she had on his body.
Sharp nails grazes a path down Loki's neck, and roughly lower on his chest, until Jane's raking over and around his puckering nipples. He jerks at the feel of it, gnashing his teeth, holding in his moan, and stares down at the red stain of scratches clearly visible upon the paleness of his skin.
He's gulping down more accumulated saliva.
"I thought you'd be just as pale here...but you're darker... I like that." And she's curving down to lap at his nipple and firmly twists the other.
A shuddered breath escapes him.
Her rocking stops, but her suckling continues, and Jane's gathering her skirts high against her thighs. Reaching between them, she repositions the tent in his breeches and brushes her naked core hard against the fabric. Intellectual thoughts long gone, Loki's shamelessly humping into her as she rides along the length of his covered shaft. Holding him exactly where she wants it.
Closing his eyes, overtaken by the heat surrounding him, he rasps the only thing repeating endlessly in his mind, "Why are you doing this?"
'With me and not with Thor.'
Jane's movement is slowing while his quickens.
Slipping his hands into her skirts, he feels the softness of her thighs against the palm of his hands; wandering higher, Loki cups and squeezes her derriere as his hands dip in motion to follow the primitive dance of her body. And he's quite taken with it all, with her softness, and her warmth - such a small thing... so distracting...
Little hands dart down and captures his, dragging his clawing fingers away from her sweaty flesh.
"Don't touch me yet, you naughty boy," she reprimands him sharply, biting at the artery of his neck. Hot damp mouth sucking rough and hard and oh so painful. He presses into her rapturous assault, stretching his neck in surrender. Sensing what he wanted from her, Jane lathers her tongue up the vein and bites that tender part of his exposed throat a second time.
A long, low, sultry, moan of contentment escapes from him, and Loki's arms go limp; allowing the female to raise his hands upward, pressing them high against the wall. His mouth falls open and he's breathing deeply.
She's caging him with her body, demanding him to stretch and arch his spine.
Oh, how he likes it.
Lazily rolling her hips, she says, "To answer your question... no one here wants to fuck a woman with a parasite growing inside of her body." A hint of frustration escapes at the utterance.
Loki's pleasantly surprised, and his shocked words are laced heavily with gentle reproach, "Such language."
Turning her head, she gives him a long, wet, languid lick up the side of his neck, over the line of his jaw, along the sharp contour of his cheekbone, and comes to a stop at his temple. He enjoys the dampness on his face just as much as the heat radiating into his pants.
She gazes at him bawdily, licking her lips, "Pardon my French, no one wants to fornicate with a woman housing a weapon."
Loki asks playfully, hatefully, "Not even Thor?"
Wiggling her sex on the head of his manhood, the Prince presses his mouth together, refusing to make a sound; nostrils flaring, he's arching in so slightly.
"They think I'll go off at climax," she says evasively, breathe shuddering.
He knows she intentionally omits his not-brother's name. And he trembles at the thought of it... That Thor would refuse her when she wanted it, nay, needed it the most. Manic laughter escapes him at the expense of Thor's justifiable incompetence. Any sane man should fear such a creature; fortunate for him, he thinks he's quite gone mad and no longer fears the unknown.
"Should I test it out on you?" She's slightly insecure while cupping his face in her hands, turning his to 'look' directly at her.
Small and delicate.
His unhinged laughter dies away.
So very dangerous.
Grinding painfully against his erection.
Her honey brown eyes are hooded and radiates desire. Lowering his arms to rest against his sides, Loki's focuses on the beauty mark on her right cheek; there's another farther back on the left.
Licking his lips, scraping the excess saliva back into his mouth with his teeth, Loki says challengingly, "Let's test that theory."
And she's rewarding him with vigorous movements down below. Her indecent little mewling of feminine delight, wrangles out a low moan from him in response.
He's back to thumping up against the white wall as small fingers fiddle at the waistband of his pants, and he knows what she wants – that she craves his body just as much as he craves hers. Eagerly planting hands against the floor, Loki lifts up as Jane tugs down.
At last, Loki is free from the confines of his breeches; it wasn't exactly the freedom he'd been plotting about for over a year, but he dare not look this gift horse in the mouth. Warm inner thighs press snugly against his own and he's bucking up, searching for more of that tortuously gorgeous heat. His heart is practically racing at the mere contact of her legs against his own.
Hands capture his engorged manhood, and she holds him tightly. "Don't move," she commands. "The Aether might explode prematurely...you wouldn't want that now would you?"
"Too much talking," Loki growls impatiently, pressing her clothed breasts against his flushed chest as his tongue flicks out to lick the shell of her ear, and then to suckle the tender spot behind the joint of her jaw.
The taste of her peachy skin is tangy sweet.
An unexpected delight.
When she pulls away from his searching mouth, a twinkle of excitement is evident in her eyes. "Just relax, close your eyes and let me use you."
Loki takes a deep breath, contemplating the thought if he could ever refute her now. Jane presses herself against the length of him, and her eyes flutter close as a loud vulgar moan slips from her lips.
Damp, soft, near scorching.
Unintentionally slamming his head against the wall from the jarring feel of first contact, Loki settles; completely gives in to sensation and closes his eyes. Her pubes tickles up and down his shaft. Nether lips parting and drenching the underside of his rigged skin.
It's too hot to bare.
Mouth ajar, he pants heavily; not used to such angry heat after being consumed in cold fury for so long. Sweat forms across his brow and upper lip. He could feel her clitoris slide roughly against the raised pulsating vein near the head of his penis.
She moans.
"Nmmm..."
- And he couldn't bare not to look.
Opening his eyes, Loki gathers her golden skirts with both of his hands, raises it above her flat belly, holds the cloth against her waste, and watches her gyrate her glistening quim up and down the length of him. Hypnotized by the sight of sun-kissed thighs against his paleness; he thinks the contrast of their skin complements the raw redness of their flushed sex.
The sight of it makes him moan all the louder.
"This feels so good...Don't you think so, Loki?"
He's entranced, but he won't admit it.
But he must!
"...Oh... yes..."
The mortal opens her eyes to gaze upon his aroused state, combs back wayward strands of black hair away from his sweaty face - as if she wanted him to get a good long look at her. And he's gasping at the way she leans back to stretch her taunt belly and cant her hips to watch herself maneuver over his shaft. Jane kneels above him, as he holds her weight completely, and then he begins to guide her movements against his arousal so that she could hold him steady, and drag her fingers up the opposite side of him.
Loki hisses out an approval of everything they were doing.
It's been too long for the both of them.
Jane's trembling as she rocks forward and rests her forehead against his own. Breathe mingling, nose brushing against the other, she slips farther down and presses her face against his neck. No longer gentle; she scratches down the tender flesh of his phallus while the center of her pleasure rubs aggressively at the tip of his cock. Boldly, she begins rotating the weepy head over and over that sweet spot.
It's not enough.
And they're moaning wildly for more.
One of his hands holds her dress up, while the other pushes her away from his shoulder.
"Let me look at you!" He rasps out, on the verge of pleading.
Greedy eyes take in the nymph unraveling before him, right on cue, he witnesses the sinful way she manipulates the tip of his crown around the wet folds of her labia, beginning to earnestly pump him with her other hand. They exchange ravenous looks for a brief moment, taking in the sight of red faces, disheveled hair, and red lips, before selfishly looking down at the action taking place between their thighs.
He's sorely tempted to bury himself into her and end his suffering, but the anticipation was half the fun! Loki restrains his impulses and immerses himself in the heat of this randy little minx. The way she spreads his precum all along her slit, then back up to rub against that sensitive nerve ending, makes him sigh in helpless rapture.
"Oh..." Jane gasps.
Unable to control himself, Loki arches up, gasping at the pinnacle, eyes centered unblinkingly on their sex, and the sweet sound of her pleasure. He staunchly refuses to climax so soon.
She teasingly slips the tip of his crown into her tight entrance and back out.
He's shouting at the dip of sensation.
"Don't stop!"
In half an inch and back out again.
"Deeper..." He's trembling with tension.
In and out.
It's driving him wild.
"Nnno...not just yet," she's painting raggedly as she rubs him in circles around her clitoris.
She was torturous in relegating his pleasure and then she's pressing a little more harder than before. Reaching further down, he feels her clenching his scrotum. Loki tries to hold in the pleasure, to extend the moment, but she squeezes him a bit too painfully and the imprisoned Prince releases himself against that tender nerve with a loud soul wrenching cry. Submerged in the ripples of his climax, Loki feels Jane rocking up and down his spent cock, mixing their fluids, keeping his member straight with her messy hand.
Staring hungrily at her face, looking for any traces of the Aether flowing beneath her skin; he's morbidly curious if the mortal would explode.
They tempt fate together.
Their eyes meet, and she's crying out her pleasure as honey flows out of her core and onto him. Everything remains the same. The heat, the sweat, the musky sweet smell of sex. And they relish the feel of their release.
Weakly, Jane says, "Clearly we debunked that theory."
"Not entirely..." Loki grins cheekily.
Thor's woman freezes for a moment.
He licks his lips hungrily, wanting more, needing more.
Quietly, slowly, the mortal stands. Her robes return to their natural state, and she's hastily making her way through the mist and out the barrier of his prison. Laughing at her sudden retreat, Loki languidly stretches his limbs and sighs. That was the most invigorating visit he's ever received in all of his life.
Cock spent, Loki tucks himself into his trousers. Standing up, he brushes imaginary debris from his rear and summons his discarded clothes back on. Neat and pristine, without any trace of what they did, he approaches the barrier and regards the mortal woman still standing by his cell.
"Still here I see, I thought you'd have wander off to report to the Thunderer of your successful... release."
The mortal stares up at him with an odd look, then shyly down at his lounging slippers.
Jane was recuperating from the aftershock of climax and the fact that she actually coerced a man into submitting to her, that Loki enjoyed what she did to him. Completely dominated him.
Donald only let her take control that one time... and after that encounter he shut down and never allowed her to do it again.
The ache in her felt so good.
All she wants is a little more euphoric sensation before the Aether killed her, wanting to relive those days full of studying and pleasure play. It should be with anyone else besides this criminal, but no one wanted to touch her, not even the skirt chasing Fandral. Her heart twisted in pain.
Not even Thor...
Brown eyes cold and determined meets his frosty stare.
Loki's taken aback by the way she regards his body, examining every inch of him.
Loud and clear, she says smoothly, "I'm not done with you yet."
A tingling sensation spreads in his belly...
"There's more I want to do," she murmurs darkly.
And it ripples down his loins.
At the heady possibility, he asks, "And what exactly is it you wish to do? Hmmm?"
Nervous, Jane's cloaked arms were trembling with anxiety. Clutching her hands, willing them to stop shaking, she truthfully whispers, "Punish you, for being such a naughty boy."
Her eyes widen in shock at her own daring, while his darken in anticipation.
It sounds so ridiculous to her now, so terribly corny. Turning away before she could see his reaction to her words, Jane quickly scampers around the left corridor, vanishing from sight.
Leaning heavily against the wall, heart hammering in terrified excitement, all thoughts of the Aether vanishes from her mind and she's quickly making her way down the left hallway.
Embarrassment rears its ugly head.
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Chapter two sneak peek:
"Read to me," she says primly.
Amused by the mortal's odd demand, Loki opens the book to a random page and does precisely that.