Chapter 11

She Belongs To Me

The phone was ringing. As shrill as a siren call, it filled Ellie's small little home. The sound bounced off of the walls, filling her ears with its cry.

Harrison lifted his head from the arm of her couch. Slowly, he turned it to her a lingering glare on his face. Ellie sat at her table, her pen and journal in front of her. She stared into the warm eyes of her favorite friend.

"I'm not answering it." She said, gripping her pen even tighter. "I don't..."

She stopped. She was doing it again. The previous night, Eric had chastised her to speaking to her pet so formally. She had never seen anything wrong with it, but when Eric pointed it out Ellie felt about as mature as a toddler.

The ringing stopped, hopefully for good. Closing her eyes she counted to ten in her head.

Sure enough the phone began to wail. Ellie stood up, the legs of her chair scraping noisly against the floor.

Stomping over to the phone, Ellie glances at the number and profile picture.

Catherine.

Ellie's breath hitched in her throat. She had not spoken with her sister in months. Not since her great escape. At first, Ellie was too proud to call her sister. It wasn't long, however, before she began to miss Catherine terribly. She had tried to call her once but hung up the moment she heard her sister's voice.

And now, finally, Catherine was calling her.

Ellie reached her hand out and picked up the phone. The green little arrow was taunting her. Begging her to answer the call. But Ellie was writing. She never took calls when she was writing. No exceptions.

With a shaking thumb, Ellie ignored the call. She felt her heart plummet, shatter, and sizzle within one short second. Angry with herself, she tossed her phone away. It hit her bed with a silent thump.

She returned to her table and took up her pen.

Nothing. Nothing was coming to her. She needed three more songs by the weekend. And she had not written a note.

She had felt rather wasted lately. It was as if all the creative juice had been sucked out of her. But even her sorrow over lack of words wasn't enough to keep the anger away.

I should have taken the call. The thought crept into the back of her mind like a slithering snake. She wants to talk to me. I don't want to talk to her but...I need to. No, I do want to. No! No, i don't want to.

She rose again, the anxiety building in her chest demanding motion of some sort.

And then again, her phone began to ring. A cry of anger, pain, and fear left Ellie's lips.

Harrison barked loudly as if to say: Hush!

Dammit. I said I wouldn't...But...

Hating herself even more, she hurried to her closet and pulled out a pair of slip on sneakers.

Grabbing a coat from the hanger on the door, she glanced at her reflection in the small mirror just to her left.

"You're a mess." She said, stating the obvious.

Her mind stated the obvious right back.

Like you care.

Suddenly self assured, Ellie nodded to her harrowed reflection and flew out the door.

The sheer genius of his trick was only just beginning to weigh on Loki. A terrible smile spread across his face. No trick, no lie, no action was too dull for him.

Still, this had been one of his more inspired moments of mischief. It was so subtle, so detailed, so brilliant...

Ellie talked about her sister well enough. It had been easy to magic her phone into displaying the only number that would have her running into his arms.

Grasping this "technology" the humans were so proud of had not taken him long. Now that he understood it, the many opportunities for chaos were still only just occurring to him. Earth may be more fun than he could have ever hoped.

A timid knock on the door of his manufacture "house" brought him to his feet. She was here. He didn't have to wait for her knock, he could feel her footsteps moving closer and closer to him.

With a wave of his wrist the door fell open. She stood there looking at him with a mixture of humiliation and...was it a shade of wanting?

Loki didn't care; whether she wanted him or not he would have her. It was all just so much easier this way.

He did wish she would learn to dress herself a little better. Her mess of red hair was hanging in a bun at the back of her head. Her very mortal, informal way of dress brought a sliver of a frown to his face. His Elizabeth was better than that.

"Don't say anything." She said, holding one finger in the air. "I don't want this to be a thing, okay? You coming to my place one night, me coming to yours. It's...weird. And I'm not sure I can keep it up. Because I like you, but if we keep doing this I can't say I won't run away like a scared little girl. Alright?"

Loki's head tilted to one side. My little girl. He thought. Always so talkative. He was strangely proud of her. Instinct was telling her to leave him be. But the thought was so muddled that she equated it to her own reclusive ways rather than any fault of his own. He meant her no lasting harm, of course. By his calculations a week more of these meetings and he could leave her behind. Still, she was right to fear him. Even if she did not recognize that it was fear she felt whenever he was near her.

"If you run..." He whispered huskily. He leaned down and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, all but dragging her into his house. He placed a tender kiss on her flushed forehead. "...I will chase you."

Ellie pulled away. She backed up until the backs of her legs hit the arm of his perfect black couch. "Oh...how about that?"

He was on her in seconds, cushioning the back of her head he forced her body over the couch. Ellie scooted backwards to make room for his towering form. She looked up at him, her breath coming out in gasps. She felt so small under him. Small and simple.

His lips were on hers, icy and hard. She kissed him back, always tentative and meek. Their lips pressed together as if they were willing themselves to pass through one another.

Loki felt the strength rushing into him like a fiery flood. When he was with her, all thoughts of failure disappeared. He didn't think of the rejection his family piled onto him. He did not think of Thor. He did not think of the Allfather, his father. That look in his eyes on that day. In her eyes, he was a dark stranger. Any judgment she made was entirely justified. He was free of it all.

And she was his.

He pulled back, gripping her slender chin between his fingers. Forcibly he pushed her head to the side, attacking the flesh of her neck with his lips and tongue. Ellie mewled, her back arching. He smiled against her skin, his ears basking in the sound of her pleasure.

He pulled away again and swooped down to steal another kiss. Or so Ellie thought.

So desperate she was to feel his lips against hers, she strained her neck to meet him. But at the last second he had pulled away, the same terrible sneer on her face. Ellie, no longer in control of herself, growled like a wounded kitten.

She hated him for teasing her so. It was a game he loved to play. He would dive down like some graceful seabird just having eyed his catch. And then, he would pull away, leaving her stranded in a wave of lust. She wanted him. His smell, his taste. It was as if he knew when she needed him most. And it was then that he would deny her his lips, his tongue, his words, his touch, the sound of his voice.

He loved to watch her cringe and shudder under his touch. He played her like a puppet. A master that knew which strings to pull, when to pull them. But she was not the sort of puppet that lay still and wooden. No, she was a puppet with a bite. He knew that she would only put up with him for so long. He would watch her snap and relish in his attentions. And then she would offer up some of her own.

Now was that time. Ellie reached her hands up and entangled them in his locks. With all her strength she pulled him to her, her lips and tongue and teeth begging for entrance. And, like always, he would smile, teeth and all. Yes, her pleasure would only come if she paid the price.

Loki soon learned that Ellie was a fabulous player. She was, at first, hesitant to except her part, as the lamb to his wolf, but he soon made quick work of her. She was clever girl, she didn't miss a beat. With kisses and nips and fluttery finger work, Loki had molded her into the lover he had sometimes dreamt of.

Ellie let him tease her. She let him tug at her strings and press her buttons. She could still cling to her modesty. Without audible words, just sounds and looks, she could beg for him beautifully. And when she was done with that, she would attack him right back. The etched red stripes on his back stung him wonderfully. At first. He was surprised at his own willingness to allow such abuse. But it was something he came to except. It only made the end result more electric.

After some fumbling followed by brief bouts of trial and error, Loki and Ellie had found their sync. Loki was far more pleased than he cold have imagined. Ellie it seemed, was not only capable of answering his unspoken desires, but she was always willing to try. He, of course, did not have to bend in anyway for her.

Ellie lay still on the couch, one leg hitched over the back the other resting on the arm. She was still breathing deeply, although now the breaths had lowered to a manageable pace. She had pulled the emerald green blanket off of the couches back. It was funny, she had no recollection of the moment when her shirt and jacket had been pulled off of her, but here she was topless. After a quick scan around his living room she could see that her blouse had landed over a thin lamp that sat by the door. She grinned in spite of it all.

Rising to a sitting position and clutching the blanket to her chest, She watched as Eric messed about his the fireplace.

Eric, and herself for that matter, were more than satisfied with hours of terribly fabulous necking. Her shirt on the lampshade was as far...south as they had gotten. At first, Ellie had wondered why this was, why, like all other men she had ever known, he wasn't demanding more of her. But soon she stopped wondering. She assumed that the day when the pair of them would want more was hovering on the horizon. This, whatever it was, would do just fine for now.

Eric returned to the couch and Ellie nestled into the back. She watched him settle in as well. With a terrible amount of shyness, she slipped her legs over his lap. At ifrst he seemed surprised and confused by the move. However, his questioning passed and he placed his hands over her, one of them cupping her knee sweetly. She bit nervously on her thumbnail and when he stared at her, his green eyes a-smoulder, She grinned.

How did I get here? She thought. Living alone in California. Meeting a guy. A man. A gentleman, really. And then...doing this. It's so...grown-up. Christ, am I a grown-up? When did that happen?

Ellie wondering how much more grown up she could be. The thought excited her. There was only one way to find out.

"Can I stay here?" She said, far too quickly. Luckily her understood her. It seemed he always did.

She pushed way her shivers. He was doing it again. Being creepy. Ellie had decided that it was just a part of who he was. He was a bit of a creep. But he was also so beautiful, so goddamn sexy that she didn't mind it.

The hand on her knee traveled further upwards. Ellie felt her heart expand in her chest, threatening to burst. She had to fight to old into the groan that was pushing at her lips.

"Of course." He said, so politely. The sweet sound of his voice, coupled with the power of his stare, caused a flush in Ellie's cheeks. She had never blushed before Eric. It was almost ridiculous.

Loki pushed her bare legs aside standing. Ellie looked up at him, always nervous when he towered over her like he was. He carried himself with such importance and strength. Before she could manage an objection, her had lifted her into his arms.

Ellie's arms hung frozen in the air. She wasn't quite sure what to do with them. Put them around his neck? But was that too princess-esque? She wasn't a princess. Fold them over her chest? Yes, that sounded alright. She tried to do so, but felt silly under his grin.

More quickly than she would have imagined, They were in his bedroom. The room was huge, the bed even more so. Ellie had never seen a bed so large. Very gently he lowered her onto it, blanket and all. She sat there, not really sure what to do.

Loki could feel her tension. It radiated off of her. The look on her face was steadily breaking his heart. She was beautiful, bright, young thing. And yet, when she thought he wasn't looking, her face would revert into some sad little shadow.

He did not need more sadness in his life. Her depression only reminded him of his own.

"You are beautiful." He whispered, knowing that it was one of the many things she wanted to hear, knowing that he could quell her pain for moments. If she wanted to sulk, she could do so on her own time.

She just clutched the blanket to her chest. "Mm-Hmm."

He laughed aloud, causing her to jump. "So you agree?"

Ellie realized what she had said. "No! That's not what I-"

With a wink of his eye Loki stole her words away. He did not want to babble. He only wanted to be near her. Not bothering to pretend, his slipped into the bed next to her. Ellie looked at him and smiled.

He was wearing an old shirt that he had stolen from her house. It had been one of her father's simple and black. The fabric was so thin that she could see the contours of his chest. His long legs stretched to the end of the bed.

Hesitantly, Ellie shifted so that she was lying on her back. Then, ever slow, Ellie leaned closer to him until her head rested against his chest.

Loki felt the icy blood in his veins shudder to a stop. He could feel the fluttering of her heart in her chest. It rattled against his skin. So fast, so small.

He suddenly realized how fragile she was. How small and insignificant. He could break her. Reach his hand out and tear her to pieces. It was a thought that, years earlier, would bring a sweet sickly pleasure to him. He was a god with power to spare, after all.

But now, a heavy pain fell upon his chest. She was so delicate, tragically so. Was this what had become of him? To regain his own powers he was reliant on such a creature?

Careful, as if any sudden movement could harm her, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He brought her arm to his chest, just above his own heart.

She moved with him, her fingers and palm pressing gently into her chest. To feel her warmth there, so close to her heart...

Loki's eyes fell shut and he held her close to him.

So close.

I apologize for the terribly long wait and the shorty-short-short length of this chapter. Family stuff, coupled with shit-job-search-stuff really hit me hard. But I'm back! Expect an update in the next couple of days. This was (I'll admit) a bit of fluff. But what's wrong with a bit of fluffy fluff? ;0)

Thanks for reading and please review!