Star-Crossed (2/?)
Authors: cincoflex and starhawk2005
Fandom: Marvel's Avengers
Date: June 2013
Pairing: Loki/ OFC
Rating: Adult (18+).
Summary: Crack!fic; Loki takes his 'pet' shopping.
Disclaimer: Loki still owns us. Yep.
Authors' Note: As with the first chapter, Starhawk wrote the OC's POV, and Cincoflex wrote Loki's.
Nearly three weeks go by, and she tries not to chafe about them. Loki had said to expect this, hadn't he? But it doesn't make it easier.
Better start the pie, she reminds herself one Saturday afternoon. Her husband is napping, her child is napping, her Department Meeting and Potluck is next week, and she's on dessert detail.
She starts mixing the dough for the crust, shaking out her hand as it tries to cramp around the pastry blender - God, she HATES this part of baking - when there's a sudden change in the air. As if it has become charged with electricity. The hairs on the back of her neck rise, and she freezes.
The air folds open like a door, and Loki steps through it, grinning at her. He's dressed like a businessman; three-piece black suit, a black, green and white scarf...and he's holding a staff topped with a bright blue gem.
She blushes, remembering the games he promised to play with that gem...on her.
Then sanity comes back. "Loki!" she hisses, "My family!" She gestures frantically towards the bedroom area of the condo. He promised to come to her, yes, but she never expected he would show up in the middle of the day in her goddamned living room!
He glances in direction she indicated, unconcerned. "Be at ease, they will not wake."
She bites her lip, not sure how she feels about him using magic on her family. "Um, OK." She stares into her mixing bowl for a second, wondering what to say to him. "I missed you," she settles on.
"As did I, you," he answers, coming into the kitchen and raising her chin with his hand. The kiss is hot, deep, and utterly possessive, not that she minds.
"Come with me, now," he says softly, but there is no mistaking the tone of command.
She wants to, really really wants to, but- "Loki, I can't. I have things to do-"
His eyes darken angrily, long fingers digging slightly into her skin. "You dare refuse me?"
Her eyes flash as her own anger rises to meet his. "Screw you. You keep giving me that line about having your own fish to fry, and that I have to wait until you have a chance to see me...but I don't get the same consideration?" She bats his hand away, totally irritated with him, and then puts her hands on her hips and glowers.
Her tension eases when he laughs, full and deep. "As always, you show your claws, kitten mine. But did you not notice last time, for all the hours we spent entwined, only mere seconds passed here in your mortal world? Believe that we will have plenty of time for what I have planned, and you will also have the leisure to make..." He pauses, looking curiously into the bowl.
"Apple pie, my specialty," she informs him. She bites her lip, thinking. "OK, fine. I'll make you a deal. If you get me back here around pretty much this moment in time, and I manage to bake the pie without any other interruptions...you can have the first piece. Do we have a deal?"
He arches an eyebrow at her, and the look might be called imperious if there wasn't a dimple deepening in his cheek. "The first piece. I rather like the sound of that," Loki purrs. "Yes, I agree to your bargain, little Puss. Now ready yourself; we have finery to acquire."
"Finery?"
"Indeed. As both my pet and plaything, you need to be showcased; bedecked," Loki murmurs, plucking the pastry blender from her hand and dropping it into the bowl. "Dressed to be undressed, and displayed for my personal pleasures. Too many of your finer features are hidden from me even now."
She glances down at her clothing to hide her discomfort - a tight black tee-shirt (with Smurfette, and the words 'Heart-breaker' written on it) and blue jeans - she's never been all that comfortable getting compliments, especially about her appearance. 'Showcased'? 'Displayed'? Yeah, right. Next comes an invitation from Victoria's Secret to model for them. "Uhhhh, OK. If you say so," she says doubtfully. Nervously, she goes to the sink to rinse the flour from her hands. "And here I thought you wanted me for my mind," she quips half-heartedly.
"Your mind has its charms," Loki replies silkily. "I do not bed fools or the dull-witted. It takes intelligence to put pleasure through its paces. And while your mode of dress might suit for this . . . creation of apple pie, it is too plebian for what I have in mind. Choose something else, or I will dress you myself."
He looks particularly mischievous; always a dangerous sign.
No way she's leaving him to decide that, he'll probably make her walk the sidewalks dressed only in a bra and panties (if that). "OK, OK, hold your horses." As quietly as she can, she sneaks into the bedroom and then the walk-in closet. Maybe hubby won't wake, thanks to Loki's spell, but she doesn't want to take any chances.
What to wear? Her LBD? A sundress? Finally she settles on a pink dress with spaghetti straps and an asymmetrical hemline that ends at her knees in front. It's got a funky paisley pattern and edging in gold tones; hopefully it's enough on the border of fancy/ casual for whatever evil plan Loki has.
Again, she sneaks back out of the bedroom and back to the living room. "Does this meet with your approval, my Lord?" she asks, tipping him a little curtsey.
He circles around her, scrutinizing his pet from the top of her head down to her feet, his gaze drinking her in thoroughly before giving a little purr under his breath and managing a lopsided smirk. "Yes. Yes, that will do for the moment. I hope it's simple to remove."
Before she has time to grasp that, Loki steps behind her, wrapping his arms around her gently, her back against his chest as he holds the staff against her stomach, like a safety bar on a rollercoaster.
"Now, I believe there is an establishment that will well serve my-our-purposes," he murmurs.
They shimmer and blink out, leaving behind the barely-begun pie on the counter.
-oo00oo-
Très Méchante is an exclusive shop at the far end of the mall. Only a few select customers even know where it is, and those who do tend not to share the information. The wrought-iron doors and tinted glass panels hint at luxuriousness, as do the potted palms on either side.
It's just a casual stroll away, but Loki makes it clear that those very doors are their intended destination.
"'Très Méchante'?" she asks. For once, she's kind of sorry she speaks French. "Um, Loki, what kind of store is that?"
Maybe going on a shopping trip with the God of Mischief isn't such a good idea. Not that he's going to give her any choice. She tries to slow her walk, slow them down, just a little. Buy some time to figure out what the hell is in store for her. So to speak.
Loki is looking at two young girls walking by; he makes a soft growl and they both burst into nervous giggles, eyes wide and slightly awestruck. He gives them a wink and turns to answer his pet. "Poor things. So inexperienced. As for our destination, well-I do believe the name says it all."
"It doesn't say anything! 'Very Mean'...um, OK? That's really clear, suuuure." She bites her lip and tries to stop dead on the sidewalk.
He leans in and whispers. "Very Naughty," Loki corrects her. "At least, that is their specific meaning. I happen to know that you like to be very naughty."
She can't help smirking at that. "Sometimes," she agrees coyly. "I could say the same of you as well, though. Are we going to be shopping for you too, my Prince?" She looks up at him from under her eyelashes.
He very nearly preens at her words, but catches himself and clears his throat. "Possibly. My interest lies in procuring more of the items similar to the one you wore last time," Loki murmurs. "You would do such apparel proud."
A handsome young man walking by gives her a stare, and Loki's eyes narrow. He begins to raise his arm-
"Whoa, down boy," She says, grabbing his elbow. "C'mon Loki, you were looking at those girls. Now you're gonna zap some poor schmoe for doing the same thing to me?" she whispers. "Inconsistent, much?"
"Capricious god here," he says sounding like Captain Jack Sparrow for a moment, then turns her back towards the distant doors. "The girls merely wondered about me, just as they did about you. That one, though-" Loki bares his teeth for a moment, "certainly had more than curiosity on his mind, and none of it worth noting. I will let him live . . . if I must."
"Please do," she says encouragingly, tugging him forward towards the doors. As nervous as she is about going to this place, whatever it is, it has to be better than watching him blast someone to smithereens in the middle of the mall!
They stroll forward, approaching the doors and when they reach them, Loki raises the staff – which has morphed into a less threatening 'cane' form - and raps once on the handle. The doors open and an elegant man in a three-piece suit looks out towards them and nods. He's lean and handsome in an aristocratic way, with a goatee and bald head, green eyes behind half-moon glasses. "Welcome, sir," he intones. "Do you have an appointment with us?"
"Oh yes," Loki replies in a silky tone. "That we most definitely do."
An appointment? OK, this is officially the WEIRDEST shop she has ever been to. Now she's even more nervous.
The inside of the place looks more like a fancy living room with exquisite velvet furniture and walls of mirrors and ornate wallpaper in grey and silver. There are little alcoves everywhere and the mannequins are wearing lingerie that would make anyone from Victoria's Secret weep with envy. Loki smiles and steers them inside.
"I am Maximilian, your attendant," the man murmurs. "And is this your . . . consort? May I congratulate you on a beautiful woman, sir?"
She can feel herself turning bright red. This seems to be the day for people to comment on her appearance. "Thanks, you're no slouch yourself, Max," she can't help muttering, though she keeps her eyes on the floor. She's sure Loki is doing his pleased smirk, and seeing it just now will probably turn her even redder.
"She's spirited," Loki announces, "and opinionated."
"Then you are doubly fortunate, sir. If you would care to follow me into the viewing room?"
The viewing room is more intimate and cozy, with a chaise lounge and a few classical chairs in dove-grey velvet. There is a dais against one wall, surrounded by full-length mirrors and fresh-cut flowers in crystal vases.
Jesus H. Christ, she looks around. What the hell is this place? "You have...interesting taste in lingerie stores," she says in a low voice to Loki.
He moves close and breathes lightly on the side of her throat as he whispers. "Do you like it? It's not for everyone, but then again, you and I, we're not like everyone either. It took me a while to find this place, but I think it will have exactly what we're looking for, my Star."
She shivers at the coolness of his breath and closes her eyes. I am so going to regret this, I just know it, she thinks. But she only says: "If it meets with your approval, then of course I like it. What do you want me to do?"
Loki slides his hands up the sides of her shoulders, fingers catching in the spaghetti straps. He flicks them off her shoulders, his touch slow. "Undress, of course. How else are you to try on and model for me?"
She presses her hands to the top of the dress. "Uh, fine, but sorry, I don't undress in front of just anyone." She indicates Max with a sharp movement of her head. "No offense. Point me to a changing room, garçon."
Max gives a small bow. "I am not permitted to stay, much to my regret. However, the catalog is here-" He waves at one of the mirrors, which is actually a computer screen showing a vast array of selections on display, "-and should you require any further assistance or advice, you have but to ring. I leave you to your selections and have a lovely afternoon."
She lets out a relieved sigh after Max leaves. "OK, explain this to me again, because apparently I'm a little slow - random guy stares on the street and you're ready to turn him into cat food, but you have no problem dropping my dress in front of a random dude in a lingerie store. Is this some Asgardian social norm I'm not aware of?"
"Max is . . . unique," Loki smirks. "And well-versed in consorts, pets and playthings. There are other people who understand the ways of gods and mortals, masters and servants, the ways of you and I, little Puss. This cannot be news to you."
Loki drops himself in a lazy slouch in a chair, cane resting against it, and watches her. "Show me how much you have missed me. I want to see."
Had they still been in his private magical retreat, she would have done just that...maybe even have put on a little 'show' for him. But in an unfamiliar, somewhat public setting like this? She raises an eyebrow at him. "Um, what? You want me to just strip down right here? I don't think so. Give me something to change into-" she motions towards the catalog, "-and I'm happy to oblige you. That is, unless..." she smiles lasciviously at Loki and walks over to stand in front of him. "...I'm not the only one naked." She trails her fingers down his tie, tugging lightly on it, and then starts to pull his scarf from around his neck-
He catches her small wrists and holds them for a second, then brings one up to his lips, tongue flicking along the sensitive pulse point. "Ah, well there are a great many things to wear, and just so we have some privacy-" Loki lets go of her other wrist and snaps his fingers. The door to the viewing room slides shut and the heavy 'click' of a lock echoes faintly.
Loki arches an eyebrow at her and gazes meaningfully at the spaghetti straps.
She backs up, eyes narrowed as she reconsiders. He did lock them in. She feels an abrupt need for her own particular brand of mischief.
"Privacy is all I required, my Lord." She turns her back to him and unzips the pink dress as slowly as she can. Then she turns to face him, sweeping the straps aside and letting the dress slide down, falling around her strappy black sandals. She's left with only those, a lacy black bra, and matching panties.
Does she dare to take the next step? She's fantasized about doing so a couple times, but... she steps out of the dress, walking slowly backwards until she can sit on the chaise lounge.
She gives Loki her best sultry smile as she toes off her sandals, then she lays down on the chaise, closes her eyes and lets the fingers of one hand trace down her cheek, along her throat and collarbone, down to the neckline of her strapless bra...
She licks her lips as she remembers what it had felt like, to be half-naked across his lap as he'd spanked her, to be bound and blindfolded and teased. She cracks one eye open and smiles at Loki. "Are you sure you don't want to take your clothes off too?" she purrs. "That suit is gorgeous, but your birthday suit puts it to shame." As she speaks, she lets the fingertips of her hand dip just below the top edge of one cup of her bra.
Loki smiles briefly and leans back, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepling his hands as he watches her over the top of them. He says nothing, but there is a faint ruby glow deep in his eyes. He waits, perfectly still, gaze still on her, lingering as warm as a caress.
It's his challenge back to her, his way of upping the ante and making it clear if she wants a response then his little pet is going to have to try a bit more. Gods are infuriating that way; it's what makes them dangerous lovers.
"Suit yourself," she shrugs, smirking over at him. She closes her eyes again and wiggles down a little on the chaise, spreading herself out on the soft velvety surface. Taking a deep breath, she pushes her hand a little further down, brushing her fingertips lightly across her firming nipple. She lets her other hand caress its way down the centre of her bra, her ribs and stomach, then slips it underneath the waistband of her underwear.
Part of her can't believe she's actually doing this, but... what's the harm?
She lets her first hand curl around her breast, squeezing the nipple gently, and she dares to peek over at Loki again as her other hand makes small circles in the curls between her legs.
Loki makes a sound, a soft little growl barely audible in the stillness of the room. Clearly his pet is more than ready to call his bluff, and in such a blatant way. It's difficult not to simply stride over and loom, lean over her petite form and nip her collarbones.
Difficult but not impossible, since what she's doing is so . . . so . . . fascinating. So decadently intimate. Loki is torn between watching and taking, but he doesn't want this to end too soon, and his pet does seem to be enjoying herself, even if her teasing is fiercely arousing. He settles for dropping his hands from their steepled position and gripping the chair arms all the better to control himself.
She allows herself to wink at him, enjoying his obviously white-knuckled discomfort. Who's got the power now?
She squeezes her nipple again, reaching down further under her panties until she can trail her fingers through the slickness there, bringing them back up to circle slowly around her most sensitive spot. She allows a soft gasp to escape her lips, and shifts on the chaise, bucking her hips a little towards her fingers, bending one knee and propping her foot on the chaise to open herself just a little more.
She almost pities Loki. He can't actually see anything, can he? Well, if he wants the barrier of her clothes out of the way, let him do something about it.
It is what he asked for; more than what he expected, actually. One of the amusing aspects of his pet is her coyness at times-but at the moment she's anything BUT. It's becoming more frustrating by the moment, particularly since she's enjoying herself and as for himself . . .
Well he is and isn't. Watching her is thrilling. Females are so very different when it comes to solitary pleasure. More languid, more willing to draw matters out instead of rushing to fountain, as males do. If only he could see-
As deliberately as he can, Loki reaches for his walking stick, gripping it for a moment and letting it shift to its familiar, deadly staff form. Carefully he extends it, letting the hook point catch the lace of his pet's panties. A tug and the fabric rips, exposing one sleek hipbone as the tatters drop against the velvet of the chaise lounge.
Much better, he decides, and leans forward for a closer look.
She gapes at the change in the cane, then gasps as he wrecks her underwear. "Hey! I liked those." She frowns darkly at him, though it's all an act. Mostly. "I hope you plan to replace them, my Prince."
"Not at the moment," he replies in a low tone full of lust. "You seem to be enjoying yourself, and your scent is . . . enthralling."
Carefully Loki shifts from the chair and moves towards her, kneeling beside the chaise and bending to brush his lips ever so lightly against hers. "Do keep going," he whispers.
She has to swallow around a sudden lump in her throat. He's too close, now he will see everything, and that makes her nervous again. He'll probably destroy the bra too at any moment.
Look at him, she coaches herself. He's loving this. What are you so afraid of? She breathes deeply again, slides her hand back between her legs. She can feel the blood and heat rushing to her cheeks and chest, his gaze seeming to burn her flesh as he watches her fingers press into herself, then slip back up and around her nub again. She strokes herself slowly, around and around, fixing her gaze now on the bulge in his dress pants.
She presses a little harder, relishing the sensation, and squeezes her nipple, closing her eyes and arching herself against her own hands.
It's magnificent, and Loki kisses her, tongue sliding along the seam of her lips, begging admission. He can hear her pulse jump, can feel her body torquing with arousal now, so near and so warm. Loki curses himself as one greedy hand slides along his pet's thigh, caressing it firmly. Gods he wants her to keep going, to taste her as she comes . . .
Eyes still closed, she jumps slightly when he touches her, but she grins and opens her lips under his. Once again....gotcha! she thinks. She lets her tongue slip over and tangle around his, her hand leaving her folds to caress the back of his hand on her thigh. An evil impulse inspires her to wrap her hand around his, trying to guide it between her legs. He never said anything about not helping, did he?
Loki smiles against his pet's mouth, tasting her laughing moan. He allows her to guide his hand to the slick little garden between her thighs, kissing her more deeply as he does so. It's fascinating to feel her fingers move his to the exact place she wants to be touched, to allow her to use him for her own gratification. Her cleft is more than slick and hot to the touch, the bud of her pleasure as stiff as her nipples. Loki sucks on her tongue, feeling himself throb hard.
She moans loudly as his teeth scrape lightly against her tongue. She presses his hand harder against her, circling and teasing, then decides she needs to come, now. She guides his fingers to her entrance instead, wordlessly urging him to slip two fingers into her, then brings her hand back to her nub, massaging it hard. Her hips rise and fall against his penetrating fingers, she hopes he'll get the hint. Her other hand tugs the bra cup down at last, freeing her nipple so she can press it to Loki's chest, rub it against the slightly rough texture of his suit.
She needs more air, she breaks their kiss so she can let her head fall back against the chaise, closing her eyes again so she can focus on her body and her pleasure.
Loki grinds his teeth and concentrates, thrusting his fingers into her welcoming slickness, stroking to match his pet's own caresses. Watching her is intoxicating, pinning her on the chaise lounge makes him breathe all the harder. With his free hand he pinches one of her nipples, rolling it firmly between his fingers, tweaking it just as she begins to spasm a few moments later. Loki licks a long wet stripe along her arched throat, letting his teeth graze her damp skin, and feels very much like the raw, wild god he is.
Heat sears through her, burns her away until there's nothing left, leaving her gasping and limp on the chaise, shuddering with the occasional sweet aftershock. She laughs a little shyly and tugs at Loki's tie. "Well, that was...a new experience for me. Seems you have that effect on me, Loki. Did you put me under some kind of spell?"
He braces a hand above her shoulder and lightly nips her nose before speaking. "Rather the opposite, darling minx. That was lovely and painfully arousing. I will want something like that again at some point."
"'Painfully arousing'? Poor baby. I can help with that, if you want." She grins and slides a hand along the straining ridge under his pants, craning her neck up to kiss him again.
He groans, hips rocking forward against her touch, but with a sigh Loki forces himself back and stands, looking slightly grim. "We were supposed to be . . . shopping, as you call it. If I give in to you here and now I suspect we won't spend any time making selections. I can hold off on my own pleasure for a short while, and I do mean to see you in beautiful things, pet. Particularly with that rosy flush to your skin."
"As my Lord wishes," she answers obediently, though she can't seem to stop a smug little smirk. The panties are a lost cause either way so she strips them off and drops them next to her dress, then peels off the bra to follow. "Is there a place for me to wash up? I don't want to, um, stain any of your 'selections', especially if they don't fit me and we can't take them. I'm kind of a non-typical size."
Loki chuckles and waves a hand towards one corner of the room. Textured crystal walls slide out and curve to form an alcove complete with shower, bidet and toilet. He helps his pet up and kisses her, then turns to the dais to inspect the computer screen there.
"They are very service-oriented here," he calls over his shoulder. "One of the best on your little planet."
"Now Loki, size doesn't matter," she retorts as she goes to clean up. Once done, she wanders over to look at the catalog too. "Whoa..." she breathes.
Loki shifts his gaze to her nudity and makes a little sound deep in his throat, then touches the screen on a particular item-a merry widow corset in black and silver.
"And here I thought you'd go for things in green, gold and black only," she muses out loud. "I've been told I look good in red, if you're open to suggestions."
"Mmmm. Red, yes," he murmurs, tapping the screen again and from the wall next to the mirrors a panel slides open to reveal the corset and panties on a padded silk hanger. Loki plucks them off and examines them intently for a moment. "To me, pet-let us see you in this."
She goes right up to Loki, making sure to rub up against him. He's still very aroused. "Hmm, maybe we should also look for a posing pouch for you? I'm thinking black leather, with a snake on it." She winks up at him slyly.
"I doubt you could find one large enough," he tells her with mock-innocence, and then slides his large hands down her ass, pinching the left cheek, making her gasp and jump. "As you recall I have . . . substantial impact. Does my choice bore you? Are you not interested in seeing yourself in my gifts?"
Loki murmurs this in a tone that pretends to be hurt, but his eyes glitter and against her thigh she feels him-the very insistent part of him-throb. His hair is longer, giving him an elegant fae look in his suit.
"I never said that. I was just trying to encourage you to give me some eye-candy, too." She shrugs and plucks the items out of his hands, walks over to sit in a nearby chair, and slips the corset on, then the panties. They actually fit pretty well, which is a pleasant surprise. She raises an eyebrow at Loki again. "I suppose you want me to go over there?" She motions towards the dais. "Geez, all it's missing is a stripper pole," she mutters to herself.
Loki sits again, leaning back, long, lean legs splayed. He runs his hands down his thighs, the gesture lingering. "If you want something, you must ask for it," he rumbles. "Nicely."
From this position the heavy ridge of his shaft straining his trousers is prominent and unmissable, as is the heavy-lidded look he gives her. "Red becomes you, my sweet."
"Glad you think so, my Prince." She puts her sandals back on, then deliberately doing her best sashay, she walks over to the dais and steps onto it, looking at herself from all angles. She sticks out her hip a little, then her chest. She turns to study herself from the back, pretending not to notice Loki's smoldering gaze. The thong underwear frames her...assets fairly nicely, too. Not bad, not bad at all. "And no, the stripper pole thing wasn't a request- not unless you think the sight of me clumsily falling on my ass would be hot. If so, then by all means, m'lord." She meets his eyes and dips him a somewhat sarcastic little curtsey.
"I could show you how," he chuckles throatily, and strokes his thigh again, hand gliding across the ridge there. "Come here, pretty toy; I want a closer look."
She raises both eyebrows this time. "You know how to use a stripp- never mind, I don't think I want to know." Smirking, she steps down off the dais and approaches him, though she slows noticeably as she nears him. "My, what big eyes you have," she can't resist commenting, her nerves tingling a warning. He does remind her of a wolf, tensed and ready to pounce and devour.
"All the better," he replies, showing that he does understand the reference. "And I have danced many a time, little puss, both in this form and my she-form. Closer . . . will I bite? You won't know unless you take a chance now, will you?" his eyes are half-closed now, and the hand on his thigh flexes a bit.
"'She-form'? Hm. I probably shouldn't tell you that I've often fantasized about what it might be like to have sex with a woman," she admits, though she hangs back, circling, keeping a couple paces back from him. "Maybe I don't intend to come closer. Maybe, if you want me, you'll have to come get me." She sidles back another few steps.
Loki arches an eyebrow. "I've brought you here, helped to give you an orgasm and now intend on buying you many pretty clothes. Perhaps you might want to consider that part of my pleasure comes from being shown a little gratitude, luscious one. At the moment I want you on your knees, waiting obediently."
He says it in that soft tone that sounds reasonable, even as Loki purses his mouth, adding, "Turnabout is fair play since the sight of you is driving me mad."
"Fuck, now we've apparently gotten to the part where I get nervous and say or do something to piss you off. And things were going so well up til now," she mutters. Steeling herself, she walks right up to his chair and kneels down beside it, keeping her eyes on his shoes. She wishes she could reverse time back to a few seconds ago, when he asked her if she wanted to 'take a chance'. She should have approached him then. Things would have (hopefully) stayed playful, instead of...this. Where her heart starts pounding and her palms start to sweat, and it's because of anxiety.
Loki chuckles. "I meant on your knees in front of me. Have I frightened you so much that you can't see my desire for you?" His hand slips down the length of his leg to his knee and he shoots her a sidelong glance. "No sulking; just do it now, please."
She made a deal with herself over the last couple weeks that she wants to give in, to try to enjoy this, not fight it - not like during the spanking - so as soon as she is between his long legs, she gets up off her knees, sliding up the length of his body until their faces are level. "If you want to bite me, then do it, Loki. I am yours." She turns her head to the side, offering up her throat and neck, even as she slips a hand along the throbbing curved shape under his pants and pops the button. She holds her breath and tries not to tremble too noticeably.
He gives a pleasured sigh, and lets his face brush alongside her cheek, tongue leaving a wet trail down the side of her throat, pausing just at the most ticklish, tender point on it. Loki's words are muffled against her skin even as one hand slides down the front of the corset to skim over one of her nipples. "Surrender, so sweetly given; what male could resist you, my delicious Star?"
The nip is small and sharp; not enough to break the skin, but Loki feels a little jolt run through her, and he kisses the spot. His pet's hands are cupping around him, her fingers warm and teasing.
He adores this.
She is trembling, and Loki knows part of it is sheer animal lust, desire banked by her earlier orgasm but not quite satisfied. The other part is her inner conflict, the battle between her own strong will and personality. His pet is no meek little plaything, no vapid fool, and Loki admits to himself that much of her charm lies right there. She is a worthy choice: sensual, forthright, willing to play with him even when she cannot know what will happen next.
She makes him work for what he wants, and that makes the playing worthwhile.
"Do you know how beautiful you are? How much your touch pleases me?" he sighs, hips rocking forward now.
"You flatter me, Lord," she smiles a little, relieved, stroking his shaft firmly with both hands. She goes back down on her knees, but winces when the left one gives a warning twinge. "Forgive me, my Prince, but I have a history of knee problems-" As quickly as she can, she rises and snags a pillow from one of the chairs, then sinks down onto it in front of him. Better.
Hands cupping him once more, she presses her lips to the pulsing veins on the underside of his length, then traces them languidly with her tongue, stopping to lap at the sensitive spot just beneath the head and looking up at him as she does so.
Loki closes his eyes, savoring the sensations surging through him, feeling the wave of heat flaring in irresistible waves. His pet, his pet tending to him this way. Lovely, talented . . . He bites his lower lip, teeth bearing down hard as her tongue dances slyly along his aching shaft. "Oh you are a wicked little thing, aren't you?"
She can't help a snort of laughter. "If you'll pardon my saying so, I don't think you have any idea how wicked, my Lord." She punctuates that by taking him as deep in her mouth as she can comfortably manage.
Loki grunts, long fingers digging into the arms of the chair in an effort to fight back the fresh wave of lust. The sight of his pet between his thighs is unbearably erotic and he doubts his own ability to hold off the orgasm relentlessly building behind his balls. It's been too long and every instinct he has is urging him to come, but this exquisite moment of her power over his pleasure is thrilling.
"Careful," he gasps, dropping his head back to expose his throat over the knot of his tie. "I'm very close-"
She lets him slip out of her mouth. "Good," she says with a laugh. And then she swallows him whole again, letting her teeth scrape against him, her tongue caress him, fingernails tracing lightly over his balls—
The shudders grow, and Loki rocks his hips, the thrusts rolling up as he slides his fingers through Star's hair, gripping gently, letting the inevitable wave of raw pleasure surge through him. Thickly, he comes, groaning, his breath uneven as he does so. The sweet, sweet intensity leaves him slumped, his grip on his pet's tresses turning to a limp caress through the curls.
He opens his eyes and looks at her. "Come here," Loki rasps, reaching to cup her chin and kiss her, his tongue sweeping through her mouth to taste himself there.
It's a familiar taste, although Loki would never admit that, and against his pet's mouth it is exotic and naughty and perfect. He nips at her lip, licks the corners and laughs in sheer pleasure.
She matches him kiss for kiss, savoring the salted aftertaste of him, and curls her fingers in his dark mane. These small moments of affection from him still catch her off-guard, but that doesn't make them unwanted.
In fact, she decides to take full advantage- she curls her arms around him and nuzzles into his neck, breathes him in. She doesn't think he's wearing cologne, but his scent is still...interesting. Human and yet not, if she had to describe it; musk and spice, and something else she can't name. She sighs and tucks her head under his chin, relaxing against him.
Their time together here feels far from over, and that's fine with her. She's sated and yet still hungry for more from him, and she waits patiently to see where he will lead her next.
Loki zips himself up and holds her in his lap, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the warmth of his pet in his arms. She's a perfect fit, and cuddling her feels wonderful, particularly in this moment. Lightly Loki nuzzles her hair, whispering, "You please me, little one. For that you must have a gift. A special gift."
She makes a sound-something between a snort and a sigh-but he shifts her so they are both looking at the screen in the mirror. The catalog flicks by a few pages and Loki stops at one outfit, considering it for a moment. It's lacy and body-hugging, but he isn't sure he wants that much of his lovely pet covered . . .from chest to toes? Hmmm.
"Oooh, that one's pretty," she comments. "Although," she adds dryly, "something tells me it won't last long in our...collection." Given what he did to her panties earlier, it's easy to imagine him tying her down (for safety, of course) and oh so slowly and carefully slicing this outfit at strategic points with his staff to get access to her flesh, though the idea is not unappealing. In fact, the imagery makes her shiver delightedly.
"I am not always destructive," Loki chides. "Sometimes will I prefer slowly disrobing you with suitable distractions between layers. Nevertheless, we shall add it to our choices. I wonder if any have cuffs? Pets do need to be leashed, and . . . restrained."
Absently he runs a hand along the inside of her thigh, fingers lightly drumming there.
"Mmmm, talk dirty to me, my Lord," she purrs. She makes sure to wriggle her hips against him, as 'encouragement'. Then, on second thought- "On the restraints, that is. Being leashed? I'm not sure about that one." But then she reminds herself that she had planned to at least try the things that make her uneasy. So she adds: "If you insist on a leash, I promise to try it at least once, but...I don't make any guarantees that I'll come to love it." Collaring, on the other hand...
"I have been cuffed and muzzled before," Loki offers absently. "More times than many, and it does intensify the emotions, particularly when combined with a touch of fear. I have even been . . ." he pauses and looks down, "a plaything myself."
She blinks in surprise. "You, a switch? Huh. Well, I've been known to domme the occasional partner, so..." She trails light fingernails down the side of his neck. "If you please me, and if you ask nicely," she says, deliberately echoing his earlier statement, "I'm sure I could be convinced to cuff and muzzle you, if that's something you would enjoy. Perhaps we should get a collar for you for that purpose, while we're here?" She grins impishly at him.
Loki's gaze is guarded, but his dimples deepen as he gives a small smirk. "You first," he counters. "I have unfinished business with you before I give myself over to your dainty paws, kitten mine. Something in emeralds for you, and a little silver bell, perhaps." He's teasing now, wondering if she will give that adorable indignant look that makes him want to pounce.
If she is the kitten, then I am the panther, Loki thinks, and motions to scroll through the screen once more, making three other selections before the images change to . . . toys and devices.
"A bell? Yeah right, like I could ever sneak up on yo-" Words fail her as the screen changes to various toys. "Uh-oh, I think I'm beginning to suspect what you mean by 'unfinished business'." She swallows audibly.
Loki takes one of her unresisting hands and licks her palm, letting his tongue run to her wrist. "Sensitivity is the mother of pleasure. I can tell a few of those excite you, but I want you to tell me which ones, and how you want me to use them on you." It's a good request, he feels. She's exposing herself to him even now, in delicious ways.
She can feel her skin heating in a blush already. "I'll tell you, my Lord...if you tell me first who made a 'plaything' out of you. Call it sizing up my competition."
Loki is surprised, but gives a shrug. "Angrboða, or She Who Brings Grief, as she is sometimes known. I contested her for a gem and she ensorcelled me for a time, making me her captive and training me for her pleasure. Every night for a year I was hers to command, and learned much about my own needs and desires. When the calendar came around again to the day of our first challenge she named her price for my freedom."
"Which was?" She continues gently stroking his neck and throat. His Adam's apple bobs as her fingers brush across it.
"My seed," he murmurs. "Which she kept and used to bear my children. Lust, anger, and pride, personified I am told. Told, because I have not been permitted to know them. Now I do not permit my seed to take root, and keep the life force from it for safety's sake. The pleasure of mating is still there, as is the drive of orgasm, but what is spent is but honey."
Clearly I need to brush up on my Norse Mythology. Marvel canon is not cutting it, she thinks. She puts her arms around him again. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how painful it must be, to not know your kids," she whispers low against his chest. "If I wasn't allowed to see or get to know my daughter..." she hugs him tighter.
He hugs her back for a moment, and smiles crookedly. "You are fortunate, since she was conceived in love and not by trickery. I do not begrudge the bargain I made; in the end I was the wiser and my children have their own destinies to follow. And those many nights have given me a chance to understand what it is to yearn for . . . danger. To enjoy an edge on desire. To exult in a little ruthlessness."
Loki slides a hand along the back of her skull and grips her hair, tugging it lightly, forcing her head back and up, looking into her face. "Not enough to hurt, but enough to hold you. It thrills you, pet of mine, to know I will do this." He kisses her, tongue snaking between her parted lips in a quick swipe before he pulls back and smiles. "As I said, you first. A circle of stones for that pretty throat of yours? A heavy reminder that you are mine?"
"I am yours," she repeats, half-smiling. "And you already know how much I want to wear your collar. But first, I did make a deal with you, didn't I? I was to tell you which toys I wanted you to use on me, and how...". She waits for him to release her hair so she can take a closer look at what is available to them.
Loki smiles, fingers loosening to a caress, and cocks his head. "So brave. Very well, tell me all," he murmurs, and raises an eyebrow in invitation, his smile slightly knowing.
She snorts and slips off his lap. "Something tells me breaking my deal with you would be the real test of my bravery." She walks over to the catalog, trying not to blush though it's a lost cause. She scrolls through a few pages, trying not to squeeze her thighs together as she imagines him using certain things on her.
She finally settles on a vibrator and a set of vaginal beads. She's never used beads before, and she's curious, and the vibrator has a small ridge swirling the length of the toy, and she imagines that it will feel...interesting once it's inside her.
She turns to Loki. "Those two, my Lord," she points, sighing inwardly; her face feels like it's crimson by now.
But she's not done - there's still the how, isn't there? Crap. She struggles to find the words. "The vibrator - well, I would love for you to tie me down and then tease me with it, all over my body, but especially all my...tender regions, shall we say. And then put it inside me." Christ, she's so turned on and yet embarrassed at the same time! "The vaginal beads...well, those are pretty self-explanatory, aren't they? I can't imagine that you need me to tell you how they are used." She waits to see if he'll be satisfied with that.
"Mmmmm," he considers her words, amused and aroused at the same time. Yes, many images come to mind, most of them juicy with potential. He rises from the chair and gives a slow nod. "Yes, I think those are . . . necessary." He taps the order in, and flicks another page of the catalog. "And while we are waiting for those, I believe I will add these and . . . that."
He watches her eyes widen, the pupils full and dark. "Objections?"
She swallows hard. "N-no, my Prince." Christ, gonna regret this...
Carefully he cups her chin, bending to bring his face close to hers, his breath against her cheeks. "Oh good. We are going to have a memorable time, kitten mine, and when we are done you will have earned my collar, won't you?"
He motions to her to slip her dress on over the red lingerie, which she does with only a second or two of hesitation. She scoops up her old underwear and balls it up in her hand for now.
After that it's only a matter of moments until the elegant bags arrive after a discreet knock on the door. Maximilian hands them to Loki, who produces a little velvet bag that clinks with the sound of heavy coins. He looks to his pet and nods, and then strolls through the lobby of Très Méchante, grinning. Within thirty steps they are back in the mall, in the hustle and flow of regular humanity.
"Are you hungry?" he asks her, glancing towards an ice cream shop.
She shoves her handful of underwear into one of the shopping bags as she gives a short laugh. "Look at me - I'm always hungry. The cost of a high metabolism. I'm buying, though." She reaches automatically for her purse...before remembering she doesn't have it on her. Ooops.
Loki snickers, and strides over to the counter. The girl there looks up at him and blinks, clearly a little overwhelmed by the suit.
"You will give my consort your best confection," Loki orders silkily. "Now, and gratis."
Star rolls her eyes at his imperious tone. Sure, he's a prince and used to being waited on, but...
"Uh, what does she want?" the girl mumbles, looking from Loki to Star in confusion. "I don't think we put any gratis on stuff here."
Loki sighs and looks to his pet for help. Midgardians, he thinks.
"Loki, behave yourself," she chides him under her breath. "Nothing is free here...except me. Give the poor kid a break - anything you get us free technically comes out of her salary."
"Very well," he grumbles, and fishes out something small from inside his coat. The little stone carving is only an inch high, and utterly charming. The counter girl smiles and scoops it up.
"That's an Elskine figurine! My granny has those and they're worth a shitload! Okay, anything you want guys, on the house!"
Star looks suspiciously at Loki. "That had better not be a pebble disguised by one of your illusions," she mutters. "Just because you HAVE a dick, doesn't mean you have to BE a dick."
Loki purses his mouth for a moment, but it's to stop himself from grinning. "I carved that myself, I'll have you know. Not an illusion, although not one of my better works."
She rolls her eyes again. The sooner she gets this over with, the better. "Just give me a scoop of salted caramel ice cream. In a sugar cone, please." As the girl turns away, she pokes Loki with her elbow. "Behave, you. I mean it. There's no bigger turnoff for me than you getting all high and mighty with the hired help. I used to work in retail."
Loki pauses, and then looks to the counter girl. "How much would you say that Elskine is worth, pretty maid?"
The girl gave a pleased snort. "About sixty bucks, but you can't have it back, Mister-a deal's a deal, and my granny is gonna be thrilled to get a Loki!"
Star is startled into laughing out loud. "You made a figurine...of yourself!?"
"I wanted a worthy subject," Loki replies, and accepts the cone. He hands it to Star and adds, "Carving is an old and worthy skill, pet. Ice Giants come by it naturally, and many hold great skill. Who do you think did the runes? Certainly not your Midgardian ancestors."
Star glances worriedly at the counter girl, but she doesn't seem to have noticed the odd content of their conversation. "Fair enough. I love doing things with my hands. Or rather, I used to - motherhood is keeping me too busy." She sighs and takes a taste of the ice cream. Yum. "Are you having any?" she asks him.
Loki watches her in fascination, caught up in the swirl of her tongue on the cone. He blinks a little. "What?" he asks, aware that she's asked him something, but not sure what the question was.
"Ice. Cream. Are you having any, or are you just going to watch me eat?" She can't decide if his interest in her licking the dessert is creepy or funny. Both, probably. Deliberately, she licks it again. Slowly. "Mmm." She winks up at him. "Thanks, by the way. This is the last time I go teleporting without my purse, I promise."
"Yes," he murmurs, still caught up in her sensual strokes along the cone. "You are . . . enjoying that. A lot."
She shakes her head, equal parts amused and exasperated. "Men are all the same. Everywhere," she informs the counter girl, who nods but looks confused. Star gazes critically at Loki. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess you're the chocolate type. Give my tall arrogant friend here the same, but make it a scoop of the '72% Chocolate'." She thinks for a moment, then adds: "On second thought, make that two scoops." Got to account for Aesir appetite and all.
Loki's question of 'What is chocolate?' is answered a few moments later when he tastes the divine darkness for the first time. The pleasurable shock jolts through him and he openly gasps after the first swallow.
"Nice, eh?" Star agrees. "Normally I go for that, but I'm on a caramel kick lately." She shrugs and licks her own cone.
Loki shudders, then bends low to Star, holding her gaze with his as he hoarsely whispers, "I want to lick this flavor off of every inch of you. This. Must. Happen."
"Holy fuck," she blurts out. "Y-yeah, OK," she stutters, grabbing his arm and trying to get him to follow her. "Thanks hon!" she calls back over her shoulder to the girl. "Just not here, OK?" she insists to Loki in a stage whisper.
"Agreed," he nods, and slips an arm around her, carefully cradling his precious, precious chocolate cone in the other hand. They blink out in a flash of green and white.