It began, as most things seemed to in Asgard, with a love of excess, of too much never being an option, and more being the only answer to every question. The wheel turned slowly in such a place, where what was good for years was certainly nothing that should or could be changed, especially when it came to matters that seemed almost inherent to the hot blood people. It came as no surprise to anyone that, aside from feasting and fighting their next favorite past time was fucking, and when their blood was high and they were far in their cups of mead it only amplified their desires to near epic proportions. Even after a long day of fighting on the battlefield the near-gods could go until all hours of the evening in persuit of an orgasm or a dozen. Some blamed it on their heritage, and most on the lack of threat of pregnancy and bastards, thinking that without many repercussions the Aesir had too few reasons not to do it.
Others said they just liked to fuck, so they couldn't see what the problem everyone else seemed to have with it.
Natasha looked up at the same damn ceiling she'd seen for the past twelve years, ever since they'd brought her up from Midgard to serve as an official courtesan. Twelve years to learn, to never touch or be touched except by another woman, to learn each and every trick and how to use it to make a man fall in love with her body. Twelve long years of sleeping in the same, large room as half a dozen other women, most of them rotating depending on whether or not they were well received (because those who had no purpose or work had no place there), and though Natasha had managed to survive the training she wasn't quite sure what else there was to expect. There was no other reason for her to be on Asgard aside from pleasuring whichever highborn took interest in her during one of their cravings, after all, the same way that there was no other reason for Nato to have been taken from Vanaheim, or Eobara from Alfheim. But there they were, waking up to the same shit on a different day.
Or rather it would've been had there not been a more than urgent knock on the door, sending them all scrambling up and out of bed. The Mistress didn't like to be kept waiting, and half a minute later she strode in to the large room, smiling as she took in the seven mostly still asleep women in front of her, all except Natasha struggling to look lucid, Nat already there. A customer meant another meal, another debt closer to being paid (so they said), another chance to earn their freedom or else a new place to live if the lord or lady liked them enough.
It wasn't often that Natasha got chosen, for whatever the reason. She was as well trained as the others, with a decent enough complexion for Asgardian standards, and her bright red hair was supposedly the reason that the Mistress had taken a liking to her in the first place. Perhaps they thought her breakable, because she was mortal, no matter how many apples she partook in or how many times she proved herself time and time again to be as sturdy as the others, no one wanted to be responsible for breaking one of the Mistress's belongings, especially when the Aesir were so well known for their stamina.
It certainly made earning her way that much more difficult.
But as ever she did her best to face the day with a sense that things might improve. There was little other choice than for her to put a smile on her lips, to bat her eyelashes and pinch her cheeks until they flushed, and as they were given a quick moment to clean up and dress there was a soft murmur as the usual rumor mill began between them all.
"I heard it was a prince this time. Looking for a permanent fixture so long as they behave well enough," one of the women, an exotic beauty with forest bright eyes to contrast her dark, bronzed skin, murmured as she plaited her hair and stared at herself in one of the small mirrors, eyeing her body as a butcher might a piece of uncarved meat.
"Doubt it. Probably just Fandral looking for another tumble with someone new." A voice from one of the others supplied.
Well that would bode well for Natasha. She'd had a brief encounter with the blond but it had gone, as far as she'd heard from his lips as her own wrapped around his cock, well enough, and he said he'd call on her again. Granted, the next day he'd taken out Nato, but that was the job Natasha supposed. She'd learned all too quickly that whatever was said when her mouth was wrapped around a man's most precious organ had little to do with the truth, if anything at all.
"They're supposed to be getting visitors from another realm. Muspelheim or something," another girl said with a barely hidden shudder, grimacing. Natasha didn't blame her. The fire demons had terrified her the first time she'd set eyes on them, having come back from a tussle with another highborn lord, and the way they'd taken in her slight limp with a grin and lick of their lips had only proven her right to keep avoiding them as much as possible. Pain was nothing she couldn't handle, or dish out depending on the preference of the man or woman, but even that was pushing it.
They weren't given much time after that to discuss anything else, all rumors and talk squashed as they stepped slowly into the receiving room, each of them draped in silk or satin, depending on whatever the Mistress had laid out for them that day, each tailored specifically so that it would show off the ample curves or else the flat planes of a stomach, or smooth stretch of upper thigh. Natasha's green silk banded around her breasts and snaked down to drape over her hips, nearly see-through and barely covering anything as it was. Classy, she supposed, without giving her the benefit of being wholly clothed. She'd thrown her curled red hair over one shoulder, knowing they usually preferred it down as opposed to up (made a better latch for their hands, she found out the hard way) and her eyes were lidded with improvised lust by the time the first customer entered, led personally by the Mistress.
Understandable Thor made them all stand a little straighter. Though he was no stranger to them, his parents and the customs of the upper class refusing him any sort of sexual contact with those not specifically trained for the high born royals and lords, but having the prince as a patron, no matter if it was the one time or many afterwards, was a very good sign. Though Natasha cocked her hip to the side and arched her back slightly to give him the best view possible as he drew closer, she didn't get her hopes up. He had a certain taste for those with darker hair, and already the Mistress was leading him towards Eobara, whose hip-length pitch black hair was adorned with silver and red beads. The brat must have been told he was coming, and Nat couldn't help but smile a little. Well, at least she wouldn't be bored-Thor wasn't the easiest to keep up with from what she'd heard, never having had the man as her benefactor for an evening.
Yet as he stopped in front of her she felt her heart stutter. Perhaps she'd spoken too quickly, or else he was looking for a gift for the dignitary they'd been whispering about before. She hoped he wasn't thinking about how her red hair reminded him of fire, and would make the demons feel at home inside her, and it took all that she had to keep herself calm as he tipped her head up and gazed, interestedly, down at her. His blue eyes appraised her as one might a fine sword, not only for its value as something pretty to look at, but for its usefulness. At least it was better than being a common harlot on the sides of the streets, she reminded herself.
"I've never had you before. What is your name?" He asked, voice low as he looked her up and down, running a hand through her red curls to determine how soft they were. She was amazed he didn't inspect her teeth like one might a horse.
"Natasha, my prince," she said, voice taking on a softer octave than it normally would have as she swept her eyes to the ground. Subservience usually got her places, though she was quick to look back up at him lest he think her too willing. The last thing she wanted, no matter how badly she needed to prove herself, was to be used by something that would burn her alive from the inside out.
"Ah. You're the girl Fandral sung praises about. He missed you while roaming the realms, said he wished he could take your mouth with him wherever he went," Thor said, the words sounding as common as everyday conversation. Natasha pretended to flush and preen with embarrased pride.
"The Lord Fandral speaks too highly of me."
"Or not highly enough. Your lips are lovely. Perhaps you'd give me a taste?" He asked, tipping her chin upwards. Natasha allowed him to press his mouth to hers, the brush of his beard on her skin sending goosebumps of mixed discomfort and familiarity through her body, and when he prompted she opened her mouth without hesitation, catching his bottom lip with her teeth. Fandral had been fond of biting when kissing her, perhaps Thor would be the same and keep her for himself. Worse things could happen. She felt him hard and pressing up against her not a half second later, moaning as he wrapped an arm around the back of her and grabbed hold of her ass. Not expecting more than a kiss, though it was stupid to say the least, she jolted and shied away from the touch, pulling from him all together after shoving his hand away. He looked bewildered, and her own fear bled into her eyes. She was dead, if not by Thor's hand then by the Mistress'. What good was a courtesan who said no?
But Thor, against all expectations, laughed, bright eyes alight. "Your spirit is becoming," he complimented before looking back towards Natasha's owner. "I'll take her for the next month."
Her new quarters were far nicer than she could have imagined, though she had a feeling she wouldn't be spending much time there. They afforded her all the comforts befitting her station, however, with a large, private bath, a well sized, sturdy bed made of the softest feathers and deep oak from the forests surrounding the palace, she suspected, and she was even given a wardrobe that seemed little more than extra decoration. It would end up on the floor one way or the other, she could only assume, but at least she would look lovely in the time before that. Thor had, after purchasing her and leading her away, explained that he wouldn't be her patron, but she was a gift for someone else. A friend. Once more her mind shifted back to the Warriors Three, to Fandral who she knew how to please already, and couldn't help but stay hopeful it would be him over Volstagg. The latter had a wife, had children, knew all too well that when the time of the year came around for him to reproduce he had one waiting for him already. She couldn't imagine, for someone as prolific as he, that he'd want for a courtesan.
That left Hogun and Sif, and though she'd heard the lady's tastes ran a little less conventional than most, she'd just assumed it to mean that she preferred a different flavor of sex, to put it lightly, not another course entirely. As for Hogun? As a Vanir his drive to fuck everything within sight was far better in check, and being as grim and unmovable as he was she doubted it further.
The second prince, Loki, seemed even less likely. If he had many liasons he kept them well hidden, and he'd certainly never visited any of the women Natasha had worked with in the past few years. Perhaps his desires had cooled or he knew how to keep better control over them, and the knowledge that he was as frigid as an ice giant of Jotunheim made her certain it wouldn't be him. Couldn't be Likely Thor had bought her for a newly promoted noble, and iwth that in mind she moved to lounge on her bed, enjoying the space of it all and the new, arched ceiling, far more interesting than the hovel she'd been living in by comparison. She hadn't even noticed she'd closed her eyes to get a better couple hours of rest than she'd had in years.
Green eyes, bright and amused, woke her up some time later in the day, after the sconces in the room had been lit and the sun had gone down.
"Please, by all means: continue to sleep," the man said, voice a soft purr as Natasha slowly stirred, trying to shake the last strands of sleep out of her eyes.
Wait. She jolted up and scooted back on the bed away from where the prince was standing, own eyes widening with horror as she recognized him. Loki couldn't have looked more amused, arms folded behind his back, eyebrows rising as he watched her all but fall off the bed in her haste to stand up.
"Oh, Hel, I'm so sorry my prince," she fumbled, managing to get to her feet and give a small bow. This was not how she wanted the first meeting to go, not at all, and her heart rose in her throat as she tried to straighten the thin garments she still wore from earlier that morning. How late had she slept? And how in Hel had she gotten away with it for so long? Servants weren't allowed to sleep for as long as they desired, especially not courtesans when they had other work to do and-.
Wait. Loki? The realization must have dawned on her face because he laughed as he watched the blush spread across her cheeks, her eyes flicking up to look into his before going back to the floor, he gave a low laugh. "You were expecting Thor?"
Was she so transparent? "I was not sure who to expect, my prince. I was simply told that a month of my company was bought," she murmured, lowering her voice to match her gaze, becoming more sultry and throatier. She forced the heat from her cheeks as best she could, having learned long ago how to school her emotions better, and this time when her eyes rose to stare at him there wasn't the slightest hint of the girl she'd just shown to him, all that uncertainty replaced with a cool confidence of a woman who knew what she was doing and how to do it.
"My oaf of a brother seems to think I play so many pranks as a way to keep myself from indulging in our more hot blooded, physical pastimes," Loki murmured, crossing around the bed to stand in front of Natasha, the sound of his boots on the stone ground soft and final like the beating of a drum, echoing in her chest before he lifted her chin up so she would look at him. "And you are human. Do you think you could possibly keep up with me?"
He phrased the words like they were an insult, like she couldn't possibly imagine what it would entail to keep up with an Aesir, as though she wasn't trained for it. She kept her gaze locked with his as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth and slowly released it. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, eyes focused on her mouth for half a second.
"I think you will find me more than adequate to keep up with you, my prince." One of her eyebrows rose as her hand reached out to rub his shoulder, touch light and gaze heavy-lidded as she moved even closer. For half a second he looked out of his element, not having expected her to rise to his ruse, and she noted with a small thrum of victory that she could already see the outline of his cock in his trousers. Perfect.
Loki tipped her head up, the smirk from before back on his face, and her heart sped up a little. He was exceptionally handsome, with his high cheekbones and bright eyes, black hair framing his pale skin, and the look he was giving her set something long forgotten burning inside her. Sure she'd gotten turned on during her the time she spent with her other clients, the men generally well versed enough to know how to help a woman get off, and some had even seemed to enjoy it more than their own orgas (those she made sure to keep well in touch with) but she'd never had it where she felt this way just from a look and gentle caress of his fingers on her chin alone. Her mouth went dry for half a second and her pulse doubled in speed before she managed to calm herself down, remember that she had to be in absolute control of herself otherwise it simply wouln't work.
"I'm yours, my prince, to do with as you wish," she reminded him as she turned her head to the side to rub her cheek on his hand, exposing her neck. Submissive. Open. Likely just how he wanted her, she thought, or at least how the others had always wanted her. Better to be safe than regret it, she supposed. She felt his cock twitch against her inner thigh with want. "However you wish."
That seemed to be enough of a go ahead for him. He tipped her head straight up so he could bring his lips to hers, and she didn't have to feign attraction or being interested in the thousand-year old technique he must've developed, enough to weaken her knees and bring the color back to her cheeks as she had to pull away to breathe.
"I thought you said you weren't fragile," Loki teased in her ear, nibbling at the shell of it, though it felt somewhere half hearted. Why was he suddenly so reluctant? Strange.
"You can't break me, my prince. I never said anything about suffocation." She reminded him with a playful push before moving to take her spot on the bed. She leaned slowly back onto her forearms, red hair tousled and flung over one of her shoulders, back arched just enough to draw his attention to the impressive swell of her breasts beneath the thin green cloth. The air seemed to grow colder, making her nipples harden as she stared at him, waiting for him to get undressed. Well, didn't he know how this worked?
Hel, had he ever done this before? He kissed as though he had, but the thought that she'd been given him with his virginity intact-.
It was as though a switch flipped in his head, and with steady hands started methodically removing the vambraces and belts that covered him, green eyes searing her flesh as he watched her chest rise and fall with her breath, allowed himself a small smile as she rubbed the comforter beneath her gently, taking in the feeling of the satin beneath her.
"Touch yourself," Loki murmured, his voice velvet and eyes lidded as he watched her, drinking her in as though he was dehydrated. Her own mouth went dry at the request-no, the order-but as she eased herself down onto the bed she ran her right hand lightly over her bared stomach, breathing slowly through her nose as she parted her lips, dragging her tongue over the bottom one. Her fingers skittered up to her breasts, pushing beneath the band covering them to palm them slowly, a soft, enticing moan leaving her lips as she felt her nipples pebble beneath her touch. Pleasure bloomed beneath her hands as her back arched and her thighs pushed together. She forced herself to let go of the control she always did her very best to hold onto as she closed her eyes and let her body relax, squeezing her thighs harder as heat spiked in her belly and at her core. She moaned again, the sound breathy and not at all faked, thoroughly enjoying the feel of her own skin. She wondered why he was taking his sweet time getting to her, her own left hand drifting down her abdomen until it came to rest at the source of the heat between her thighs, tried to quench or at least assuage some of it.
Not that she really expected it to work, and when she looked up at Loki, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, she had to force back a grin at the heat that had risen to his cheeks.
"Loki," she purred. "My prince. I ache for you. Please." She dropped her hand a little lower, rubbing hard against the fabric that covered her clit. The pleasure made her body shake and her knees go weak, and combined with the grin he shot her way she felt her heart miss a beat. But still something was off. Any other Asgardian would have been on her ten minutes ago, their lust usually second only to their desire to eat or fight, and even then it wasn't uncommon for the men to get excited in the middle of either. Thor, she'd heard, was especially notorious for wanting a fuck the minute he came off the battlefield, and because of so he usually brought a courtesan or three to the fields with him. But Loki? He couldn't have looked any more uncomfortable. She swallowed hard as she leaned up on her arms.
"Would you like me to undress myself, or would you like to do it for me?" She asked with a coy smirk, dragging her tongue over her top lip, wanting to see how well he could take the outright, blatant seduction. If he couldn't, well, she'd have to adjust her methods. She watched his eyes follow the way that her chest shifted closer to them as she started to undo the strap around her breasts, but he shook his head and stepped closer to her.
"No. Lay back," he ordered, smiling as he shrugged off his tunic and his leather trousers fell to the ground. Seeing him, errect and huge in front of her, Nat felt her mouth water. Oh, yum. The tip was bright red and weeping precome, the veins popping on his strained flesh, wide and long enough to make any woman moan with want. She laid back and watched through hooded eyes as he stepped closer, the head moving to her lips, painting them with the precome. She opened her mouth, turning slightly on her side to allow him better access, and with a groan of approval he pressed his length into her mouth, the movements slow, unsure. Again she wondered if he'd ever had this done before. Certainly she'd never heard of him having gone to any of the other courtesans, but perhaps things were different before she'd been brought from Midgard. Either way, she reached a hand out to take his length and work it with her hand, tongue swirling around the tip as she hallowed her cheeks, taking in as much of him as the angle would allow. Her free hand massaged his balls, coaxing moan after moan from his thin lips, his head tipped back and one hand carding through her hair. Every so often he'd thrust his hips further towards her mouth, and she moan and choke on it, thinking he liked it the same way that other men seemed to. On the contrary, he backed off, as though surprised by her body's reaction. More than once she even heard him murmur an apology, but she just smiled from around his dick and sucked harder, trying to tell him without words that she liked it.
To be honest, though? She was amazed at the courtesy. She didn't think most of the men could see through the thick haze of lust that clouded their judgement most days, and it only made her try harder to bring him off with her mouth, to make it as pleasurable as possible. He was holding back, that much was obvious with the tension in his hips and hands, and soon enough he pulled away from her with a gasp. She frowned, looking up at him, unable to tell what she'd done wrong, but just as she'd started to lean over to take him into her mouth again he pushed her onto her back.
"Stop," he murmured quietly, fingers gliding up her thighs until they came to the fastening on the side of her thin skirt. She tipped her hips up slightly so he could gain better access to the clasps that kept it together, and in no time he pulled it off of her and tossed it to the side. Much better, she could practically hear him think, and smiled as she watched his gaze fixate on the red curls between her legs, the skin silk smooth thanks to the potions the Mistress had them rub on every day. He pulled one of her legs to him, and she couldn't help the soft half gasp, half laugh that ghosted from her lips as he kissed his way down the inside of her thigh to her core. Her voice pitched deeper as his lips met her center, licking a long, slow stripe up it to make her moan, before setting to work. His hands firmly held her hips in place as he ate her whole, Natasha sure that her soul was being devoured along with everything else as she gasped and arched her back, shouted Loki's name before she finally came. Her body spasmed around his lips, her cheeks flushed and her eyes screwed up tight. Where the hell had he learned that if he was so skittish around everything else? And why on earth was he taking himself in his hand right then?
"My prince you know I won't-."
"I know, Natasha," he gritted through clenched teeth, hand a blur as it worked his cock. Nat moved closer, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. "It is not pregnancy I worry about with you."
"I assure you I'm strong enough-."
He caught her mouth with his spare hand, holding it open, though his hand was gentle rather than as rough as she expected it. Without another word she opened her jaw further and stuck out her tongue, catching his come on her mouth as he shouted. He didn't mind, though when she moved closer to clean him up he pulled away, dressing himself and putting his cock away soon after.
"Thank you for your services, Natasha," he murmured. "I will see you later."
He was gone in a whirl, leaving Nat alone with a half dozen questions and a growing sense of dread. What had she done wrong? Why was he so angry with her? With slow feet and a sped up mind she moved towards the bathroom, drawing from the small basin of water to wash herself off, before calling for a bath to be drawn up. As the servants got to work bringing in the hot, steaming water she laid back on her bed, having been clothed since Loki left, hoping against hope that it wouldn't always be like this. The month would only seem longer if it would.
He came to her every night after that, almost more to prove it to himself rather than anyone else, that he could (and would) do exactly what every other Asgardian did when given the opportunity of having a woman at their beck and call. Though she had most of her mornings and afternoons to herself, there was the rare occasion where he'd summon her to the library, and she'd perch herself on his lap and fasten her lips to his, or else get on her knees to service him there, just before Thor came in. The blond always seemed more than pleased that his gift to Loki was going well, and for her services Natasha was gifted gems set in the finest gold, dresses made of the thinnest, softest silks and satins, and doted on by Loki as he saw fit whether through the appointment of a new handmaiden or else treated to the best food the royal family had to offer. Never before had she had treatment like this, and though she knew she was rather accomplished at using her mouth this was . . . well, it felt excessive, almost as though she hadn't quite earned it.
When he didn't call on her to use her mouth or her hands, it was out of boredom. He would ask her to tell him stories, sounding as though he couldn't believe he was stuck doing something so menial, and only seemed to be interested when she told him the more horrific parts of her growing up. She couldn't imagine why. Her removal from Midgard, though it had been a violent one, had ended an even more violent battle of wills between her adoptive father and she. Ivan had been fighting to marry her off since she had been old enough to walk, and though she was nine at the time he still thought it appropriate to sell her off to the highest bidder. If it hadn't been for the Asgardian who had taken her in, she might've been in a much worse situation than she was in now.
He still had yet to bed her, which Natasha found to be the most curious, but if he wasn't interested then she supposed there was nothing she could do; she was running out of options, and by the nine he seemed to be the most difficult man to please as it was. Any time she tried asking him what he would like, or whether or not he wanted something more from her, he'd flaunt his silvertongue and worm his way around the question, or else ignored it entirely and turned the topic of conversation to something else. Why, for all of Yggdrasil, would he be nervous, though?
She thought to surprise him one evening. They'd experimented with tying her up before and he'd seemed to like fucking into her mouth that way, yet this time she managed to reverse the position she'd been in before. Now she was bound on her hands and knees, all thanks to the help of one of her handmaidens, already slicked up with oil and wearing nothing but the gorgeous jewels he'd given her, thinking they might help him at least feel like he was with someone in his station. It might help, at least, if the perfect view of her bared ass, wet and ready for him, didn't do the trick first thing he came in. She'd gotten herself ready half an hour before he got there, and only had to wait a few minutes before he would arrive, though it felt like hours. Quietly, she tried to think of anything else she ought to have grabbed, but just as she'd opened her mouth to call for wine from the kitchens to be heated and brought up, the telltale click of her door sent her head whipping around. Perfect.
Well, she'd wanted surprised, and the way that Loki's jaw dropped was definitely that. He managed to reaffix it moments later, though his eyes stayed large as chicken's eggs as he quickly shut the door behind her, not wanting to afford anyone else the same view.
"My prince," she murmured, voice sultry and smooth once more, smiling back at him. Her legs had been tied far enough apart for him to fit between, the cords black and striking against her pale skin, while the same type of bindings kept her hands tied tight in front of her, forcing her back to arch and her backside to stick even higher in the air. Just for him. He'd already given her so much extra as it was it was time she returned the favor by doing her job the best way she could. It wasn't enough that she entertained him with stories or with singing, as he'd asked her to do in the past. She was trained to be a courtesan, bought to be his companion in every sense of the word. Without another word she swayed her hips gently side to side trying to entice him as she best knew how, but aside from a low, quick gasp of breath he didn't seem to be able to do anything. 'Seriously?'
She couldn't help but wonder if the poor bastard even knew where to put it, or if he was not interested in women at all. She'd seen him spending a great deal of time talking with the other warriors, whether it was noticed or not, so perhaps his cock preferred the company of another rather than the large breasts and wide hips she called her own. It would make sense, she supposed, and more than that it was the option that hurt her pride all the less.
"Am I not to your liking, my prince?" She asked, voice quiet and considerate, doing her best to keep herself from sounding hurt. "If you would prefer another then I am sure my Mistress would be more than happy to oblige-."
"No, Natasha. You are very much to my liking," he assured her, but she couldn't hear the telltale signs of his clothing dropping to the ground, as though he wasn't even interested in getting undressed She swallowed her pride, even as it stuck hard in her throat, and moved herself to start undoing the bindings, feeling her heart pounding. She'd be in far too much trouble if word somehow got out that she'd left him dissatisifed, but she was at her wits end. He wasn't interested in her when she played coy, innocent, wanton, or even when she let him direct her as he wished, giving him more than enough free reign to allow whatever he wanted to come to light. Nothing had made a dent in his resolve, and each rejection only stung more.
"You don't have to do that," Loki murmured, though he couldn't have sounded any less interested, as though what she did wasn't any concern to him. She hated that tone, putting it right up there with that of blades scraping against metal and her Mistress' voice after a less than favorable performance when she was in training.
"My prince I don't know what else you would have me do," she said, words coming out with more vinegar than they should have. He looked surprised when she turned back, and Natasha had to keep herself from rolling her eyes. "If there is another way you would have me, my prince, I would ask that you enlighten me. I am sorry that I do not satisfy you, but-."
"You satisfy me plenty." He cut in, making her jaw clench. "And call me Loki."
'Not nearly well enough.'
"Then why do you not allow me to please you in any other way?" She asked.
"Because I do not need it."
She rolled her eyes. "All men need it." At least that was what she had discovered in the years she'd worked. She had never known a man to pass up sex, especially not when given for free, without strings attached.
"Well, I do not," he insisted with a shrug. "I wish for you to talk to me instead," he said with a shrug as he watched her undoing the bindings around her wrists and then ankles, never lifting a finger to help her likely due to the assumption that if she could get herself into the mess, well, she could get herself out. Get herself out she did. Rubbing her wrists she turned to look at him, eyeing him as he walked towards the desk to sit opposite her, his legs spread akimbo in front of him yet only the faintest line of an erection near his groin. Her ego took a massive sting but she pushed it away as best she could.
"Talk to you, very well. How was your day, my lord?" She asked, moving to get dressed and thinking what a damn, bloody waste this whole thing was. Paid or not, the man obviously had no intent of fucking her anytime soon, of fulfilling her commitment and promise to be his companion during the evening. But fine then. She'd put more thought into the next bloke and he wouldn't know what hit him when she finally got done.
And Loki? Loki didn't get a damn second of that because he snubbed her, and Nat didn't take that well. Her hands fisted as a force of habit, attracting Loki's attention. His eyebrows rose.
"What were you thinking of doing with those?" He asked, changing the topic as his eyes skirted to her face again. "Tell me honestly. I can tell if you're lying."
"I want to slap this stupid attitude and care-not attitude out of you," she ground out without thinking. Her heart pounded as she bit her bottom lip, her eyes widening. Oh hell, she was dead.
Or rather she might've if she didn't see the way his adam's apple bobbed more than usual, the way his legs shifted ever so slightly.
'Oh.'
"I'm your prince," he reminded her with a soft growl, fingers clenching tight on the arms of his chair, a light flush rising around his neck, far more interested in what she'd just said than he ought to have been, she supposed. Nat smirked as she spread her legs, the scent of her arousal staining the room as she touched herself slowly, even if she hadn't been commanded. His eyes narrowed, not in anger but in curiosity. She could read it and the way it made his face come alive. At least it was better than his usual lackluster look he gave her when he was bored.
"And I think you get sick of telling everyone what to do. I think you like being out of control, or rather you would. You want someone to take the reigns but to know your limits." She was practically purring as she sat up and kept his eye, daring him to tell her differently. "Would you like me to be that for you?"
"Did you not understood what I said about being a prince?" He growled. "It's been all that's come out of your whores lips the past few days."
The insult barely stung; she'd watched how he interacted with others and when the slur words and rude names came forth it only meant he was hiding something, guarding himself. She allowed herself a dark smile, one that sat him right on the edge of his seat, watching to see what he'd missed, why she was smiling when he'd obviously tried to hurt her. He all but bared his teeth when her smile widened. "What? What is it?" He demanded. "Tell me, I am your-."
"Shut up." She growled, the words taking him aback so much that he actually did it. "Shut up and come here." She demanded, crooking a finger towards him. For half a minute he looked as though he actually might, his body tensing, before he snarled and defiantly leaned back, legs spread wide and arms folded over his chest. He looked as though he might even pout.
"You do not order me around-you do not tell me what to do, I am a prince!" He said as he rose, face darkening, and for half a minute Natasha thought she'd made a mistake. Still, she held her ground, tipping her chin up as he leaned down to take it, hard, in his hand. "You are a whore, and you do not tell me what I ought to do and what I should not. Do you understand me, or should I use those ropes to tie around your pretty little neck and-."
Her hand slapped him hard and quick enough to daze him, his eyes blinking quickly, and in his moment of surprise she managed to flip him over and onto his back, poised above him with her own teeth bared and one hand at his throat.
"Now you listen to me, Loki," she said, voice dripping sugar and poison with every word, one of the corners of her lips turned upwards as she felt his pulse flutter. He could push her off in a heartbeat, yet he stilled beneath her, curiosity likely getting the best of hm. She wondered whether anyone had ever done to him before, had dominated him. Somehow, she doubted it, able to feel his erection, harder than ever and pulsing, against her thigh. Perfect. "I'm going to take what I want. You've held back from me for some time, and I'm dying to have you inside me," she leaned down and nipped at his earlobe, jaw, and throat, rejoicing silently in the way that he tensed and vibrated with desire beneath her. "You tell me if there's anything I do you don't like and I'll stop," she murmured in his ear. "Just tell me . . . Give me a word." Just in case she was far off the mark, which she prayed to the Norns she wasn't.
"Jotunheim," he gasped, hips jolting against hers, and she moaned as she felt him hard and right where she needed him.
"Alright. Tell me that and I'll stop but until then," she bit, hard, on the conjunction of his throat and neck, hard enough to make him shout and whimper. "You're all mine."
He shuddered again beneath her, eyes lidded and breath coming in short gasps as he watched her rip open his shirt and run her nails down his chest, hard enough to leave a mark and bring goosebumpst to his skin. If he liked being dominated why hadn't he said something the first night? She'd not had much practice at it, usually her partners preferred a woman to simply lay back and tell them how excellent they were in bed, but this? She couldn't deny the heady rush of power felt like Valhalah in her veins. She caught one of his nipples in between her fingers, pulling and pinching it hard enough to make him moan beneath her, and as she bent down to take it between her teeth she saw his lips moving, almost as though they were about to start the word. She swallowed hard, breath coming hard as she poised above his chest, but he didn't say a damn thing. Well, until he decided she was taking too long. He fixed his eyes hard on her and cocked a brow.
"Well? Aren't you going to get on with it?" He demanded with more snark in his voice than she thought he should. She bit a little harder than before, hard enough to make his breathing stutter, and moved one of her hands to his throat, pushing down hard enough to at least lessen the flow of oxygen, even if it was like pushing on stone.
"Excuse you," she growled, grinding her palm into his throat. "You do not order me what to do. I tell you what I want, and I want you to shut your mouth. Understood?"
"Yes," he spat out with a gleam in his eyes she could recognize as hunger of a sort. She brought her hand from his neck to strike his face, relishing in how he gasped and presented his throat further to her.
"Yes madam," she corrected him with the smallest of smirks.
The fire in his eyes made it all the more worth it when he looked back up at her. "No need to call me madam, Natasha," he teased, teeth sliding over his white teeth before he grinned broadly up at her.
Oh that was it. She let out a slow laugh before moving to the side of him, watching as he stayed down on the bed without her having to tell him to. Good boy. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" She asked, taking his bottom lip in hers and sucking so hard he let out a whine. The noise found its way right into her gut, enflaming her desire even more. He nodded and with a wide hand she caught his jaw, caressed the side of his face.
"Yes, what?"
"Madam. Yes madam," he gasped. She grinned and rewarded him with another kiss, before promptly straddling his face and sinking her cunt onto his mouth. One hand carded through his hair as she stared down at him.
"If you want to use your smart mouth," she said. "Then you might as well put it to good use, yes?"
It didn't take much coaxing after that, and with her hand in his hair, angling him further up, she couldn't help but moan as he attacked her clit with his tongue, making stars dance in front of her eyes and her breath stop short from leaving her lungs. If she'd thought he was good at reciprocating this was a whole other level of pleasure, and her back arched and her lips parted as she undulated her hips to grind closer to his face, desperate for more friction as his tongue thrust inside her, tasing every last inch and slicking her up, sometimes sliding all the way up to play with her clit some more, othertimes focusing on how inside of her tasted and felt. He moved to grasp her hips as she rode his face but she slapped them away, moving the one hand in his hair so that she could pin both of his wirsts down to the bed with her own, back stretched so the angle was better for her, allowing him better access and her to maintain completely control.
"God, you're so good at using that tongue, Loki," she moaned, voice ragged. "So. . . . good. You were made to fuck me with your tongue, did you know?" She barely bit back a whimper as his eyes rose to meet hers, as though asking if that was really all she had. Nat growled and tightened her hips around his head a little. His efforts doubled.
"You feel so good underneath me. Powerless. Completely at my mercy," she moaned, bucking herself closer to him. "All mine. Mine to use as I please. You like that, don't you?" She asked with a laugh upon hearing him moan at her words, his eyes now closed and his body mostly relaxed beneath her. His cock was the only exception, straining and hard, waiting for Nat just as she'd been waiting to feel it inside her.
After her first orgasm she broke away with a grunt of difficulty, chest heaving as she moved closer to his torso. Norns, he was perfect. Somewhere in the middle of him pleasuring her with his mouth he'd vanished all of his clothing, leaving him completely bare to her, and she couldn't imagine any better way to have him. If she had the power, and the decision was hers, she'd keep him like that every day, spread out and powerless on her bed, waiting for her to come home and ravish him. She allowed herself a small smile and glow of pride as she watched him breath heavily on the bed, her slick coating his mouth, this cock so red she couldn't imagine the agony he was dealing with now to keep from touching himself. But, hey, at least he was a quick learner. Now the real fun started.
"I'm going to fuck you," she promised, taking one of his nipples between her fingers again and rolling it until he whined. "And you aren't going to come until I tell you. Understood?" She asked, taking his cock in hand and squeezing so hard it might've been painful, especially if the way his face controted had anything to do with it. Not that it made his erection go away any, of course. If anything she felt it pulse with more want than ever before. Heh. Slowly, painfully slowly, she positioned herself over him, the tip of his cock just centimeters away from her heat.
"Who do you belong to?" She asked, reaching a hand out to stroke the side of his face. He followed her movements with a needy whine, opening his lips to mouth at her hand as it passed, taking one of her fingers in his mouth when she offered it. He rolled it around his tongue, and she withdrew it to slap the side of his face, lovingly this time. Almost as soft as a caress.
"You," he managed to get out with a thick groan, surging his hips upwards.
"You, what?" She asked, one eyebrow rising as though to tell him to check himself before he got into trouble.
"You, madam. I belong to you." He finally said, words jumbling together as his eyes snapped open to look at her. She felt her throat go dry before she finally-finally-sank herself down atop him.
"Oh," she barely managed, the word little more than a squeak as she felt him stretch her out and fill her entirely, his length throbbing as she pushed herself all the way down it, her come and Loki's saliva from earlier making it all the easier. He wasn't lacking in this department, she knew from having her mouth all of it for the better part their time together, but it was an entirely new sensation to be so full, their bodies flush agianst one another, Loki buried so deep inside her she never wanted him to get out. Ever. It was too perfect, and when she rolled her hips a little to get a better feel of him she couldn't help but moan. Even better. Loki seemed to be in a similar position, his whole body tensing as he barely kept himself from thrusting into her, biting down hard on his cheek as he stared up at her. She could all but smell the arousal and desire for her to keep moving spilling from him, and with a grin she took his hands in her own and placed them on her bare breasts, showing him how she liked them played with, what made her feel the best, as she slowly began to ride him, raising herself onto her haunches so she could fully lift her body up and down his cock, riding it as though her life depended on it. He moaned beneath her, and she was too caught up in the perfect way he filled her to tell him to keep quiet. Besides, after so long without any remarkable feedback this was extrodinary for her ego. As if the first orgasm hadn't done eough for her already. She leaned back to press her hands to his knees as she tipped backwards and circled her hips, feeling the way his thighs tensed. Oh he was close, almost as close as she was.
"Uhh-madam I have to-."
"Don't you dare," she snarled, whipping her head up to glare at him. "Don't-you-fucking-come," she gasped. "Without me telling you to. C'mon Loki. Show me what you've got." She goaded as she felt his hips start to push back against hers, bucking into her every movement. She flexed her hips just so, and the huge head of his cock hit her g-spot.
'Norns.'
With a scream her vision whited out and she heard a crash of waves in her ears, her cunt tightening around Loki so much that he had to release her breasts to grab at the bedspread to keep himself from coming, teeth clenched hard even as Nat kept going. No way in hell was she done just then, not when she knew how good that felt.
She kept him on the edge just long enough for her to get two more orgasms, changing up the positions whenever she thought he was getting too close, and finally, with a bellow after she told him it was okay, he spilled himself inside her. His jaw opened so wide she thought it was a miracle the damn thing didn't unhinge itself, and his hands tore at the bedspread until the fabric ripped. He'd fix it later, and right then all Nat wanted to focus on was the exquisite way his face contorted when he came, the way his eyes rolled back into his head, how his name was a whispered plea on his lips and tongue until she shut him up with her own. Her hands came to hold his shoulders, pulling him close. All hers.
Blissed out and boneless, the two slid down next to one another, Natasha wrapping her arms around Loki as he turned his back to her, shuddering still with the aftershocks of his orgasm.
"Thank you," he finally managed to mutter, voice hoarse as he turned back to look at her. "That was . . . incredible."
She glowed with the praise, and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, just glad she'd been able to finally get across to him. It was about damn time. "Anytime. I'm here to make you happy, my prince," she murmured, the facade easily put back into place, but he shook his head.
"Don't go back to the way things were, not here." He said. "Just you and I . . . I want it that way. It's better."
Nat's brow furrowed, but she nodded. "Alright then, Loki. If you insist. Keep the same safeword?"
He nodded and she smirked.
"Good, because there's no way I'm done with you tonight." She promised, mouthing at his neck while he shuddered, her words having a powerful effect on him. "Still think I'm too weak for you?" She teased. He shook his head and laughed quietly, the noise filling the gap between them and warming Natasha's chest.
With the newest arrangement the month seemed to go too quickly. Loki came to her two to three times a day, any time he seemed to need some sort of reassurance, or whenever the monotony became too much for him to stand, it seemed, and always she was more than happyto put him on his back to service her. He had a certain fondness for it, it seemed, and on the few occasions she'd added pain to see how he handled it, whether it was a riding crop she'd requested he bring her, or else her hand on her bare backside or face, he didn't seem to be able to get enough, always sure to come back for more.
He came to her with a wide grin on their last day, though for what Natasha couldn't imagine. She was already naked, as he liked her, having scrubbed off the paint from those he'd gotten her halfway through the month for her to fill the time with, and he moved to the bed to kiss her hard on the lips.
"Would you be mine, forever?" He asked when he pulled away. For half a moment Natasha felt her heart stop. Wait, what?
"You're not-."
"No. Not marriage," he said, though he sounded somewhat regretful of that. "It'd never be allowed. But would you be mine, my courtesan and no one else's, forever?"
"Are you-."
"I bought your contract from your Mistress. I couldn't bare the thought of anyone else touching you. You're mine." He moved to take her hands in his, kissing the backs of them. "And I'm yours."
Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, jaw having dropped open as her mind swam with the news. Shenever had to go back to that one room, again, neverhad to worry about being bought for the pleasure of a lord who thought himself better than everyone else just because he had a Courtesan at his beck and call, rather than a regular whore?
She swallowed before her lips parted in a grin. "Yes. Of course."
His face split into a wide smile of his own before he fell down to his knees in front of her, head tipped closer to press against her hands once more. "Please forgive me for not telling you, madam. I wished it to be a surprise."
"Just this once," she said after a moment, chest tight and spirits higher than they'd been in years. "Now get on your back. I need you inside me."
A/N: Written for Jessy, and I can't resist a good AU like this. Hng. Hope you all enjoyed! Thanks so much for reading!