Embracing the Dark (2/3)
Author: starhawk2005
Fandom: Marvel's Avengers
Date: June 2012
Pairing: Loki/ Jane (Lokane)
Rating: There's BDSM-flavoured smut, so Adult (18+).
Summary: After the Battle of Manhattan, Thor never returns from Asgard, and a threatening Loki starts appearing to Jane….and now he's here in person. My smutty take on the whole 'Maybe when this is over, I'll pay her a visit' thing from 'Thor'.
Beta: A sincere thank you to my lovely and talented beta, canyr12. Loki demands that you kneel and compose hymns to her greatness.
Disclaimer: Still don't own the characters. In fact, I'm pretty sure by this point that Loki owns ME (not that I mind)!
Author's note: I haven't read a single Avengers comic, so this is all from the 'Thor' and 'Marvel's Avengers' movie canon (and is spoilery for both).
Jane wants to shrink back, get away from Loki, but there's nowhere to go. She's trapped. He leers at her, obviously enjoying the moment.
"But where are my manners?" he says, his words so melodious she almost forgets to be afraid, even as he starts to shift even closer. "I am Loki of Asgard, and-" His shoulder bumps against the wall, and he pauses and glares darkly at the close confines of her trailer. "How do you survive in this ale-barrel of a dwelling?" he asks with contempt.
"It's more of a temporary living situation," Jane squeaks automatically, thinking how much more terrifying this situation is, compared to the last time she uttered those very same words to someone.
Loki shakes his head slowly. "Well, this won't do at all." The blinding light returns, threaded through with green lightning. It fills the trailer, her eyes and her her mind. Jane blinks frantically, but there's nothing to see but bright green haze and fog.
There's a mild jolt, and she finds herself standing on her own two feet. She still can't see anything, but she's not in her trailer anymore; she can feel carpeting under her bare feet. She rubs her eyes, willing them to clear, certain that Loki's going to grab her any second, but when her vision finally clears, he's standing across the room from her.
And it is a room. It looks, in fact, like a motel room. There's the carpet, a bed right next to her with an ugly floral pattern on the covering, a television on a battered table in the corner. Loki is studying their surroundings, an obvious expression of disgust on his face. After a long moment he shakes his head and mutters something Jane doesn't quite catch, something about mortals having no clue how to live, but then he's walking towards her again, and Jane starts looking for an escape route. Oh crap, the door is behind Loki, she'll have to get by him somehow to escape-
"Where was I?" he asks, his customary smirk reappearing. "Ah yes. I was going to say: You were made to be ruled, Jane Foster. You require a firm hand, and I am more than willing to accept the burden." He edges ever so slowly closer and closer, and Jane feels almost hypnotized by his motions, by the rhythm of his words. "I'm only too pleased to start here and now." He stops, far enough away that Jane would just be able to touch him if she stretched out her hand. Jane's heart pounds, and she can feel sweat starting to roll down her sides.
Loki looks her straight in the eye, his eyes blazing. "Kneel before me!"
Jane can't move. Hell, she can barely catch her breath. She can't remember a time when she's been this afraid. Had she really looked forward to this? What the Hell is the matter with her?
Do what he says, before he hurts you, her brain gibbers at her, but her knees are locked and nothing happens. Her body won't obey her, let alone him.
He frowns, and although Jane is no expert at reading facial expressions, he seems almost surprised. He takes another half step forward, and he's too close, way too close to her now, he seems to be swallowing all the light and air in the room, and Jane wonders almost absently if she's about to faint.
His hand brushes her cheek, lightly, but Jane suddenly finds herself able to move after all, jerking away as if he's burned her. The side of her thigh hits the edge of the night-table and, predictably, she both knocks a lamp over, and trips and falls on her ass. Undignified, as always. Looks like I'll die the way I lived, she thinks bitterly.
The lamp is doing its best to roll off the night-table, but Loki catches it, his frown deeper now. He sets it back in its place, then looks down at her.
"Hm, not fun," he mutters, or at least, that's what she thinks she hears. It's hard to be sure, over the pounding of the blood in her ears. He sure has a fucked-up sense of what is 'fun', Jane can't help thinking. His eyes meet hers again. "Why do you cower? I thought you understood this game."
What? "Game? Game?" Jane retorts, her voice rising. She clenches her fists. "Monopoly, that's a game. Scrabble is a game."
Loki cocks his head, the confusion obvious. He must be mocking her, being deliberately obtuse. "Don't be a dick," she sputters. "You come here and threaten me, you tell me that you have some kind of evil plans for me, then you yank me out of my home and dump me God knows where….and now you're shocked that I'm scared? You are crazy!"
He smiles, and it's surprisingly disarming. "I had planned nothing that you would not have thoroughly enjoyed, Jane Foster." He winks – actually winks! – and then reaches down and effortlessly pulls her to her feet.
This 'game' of his doesn't make sense to Jane. Or does it? She's not sure how she thought this would go, but it isn't unfolding in any way she could have envisioned.
His hand is very large and warm around hers, his grip looser now. He's still smiling, but it's oddly gentle, almost regretful. "My sincerest apologies, Lady." Loki bends over and presses soft lips to the backs of her fingers, though he seems to linger longer than necessary. When he straightens up, the smirk is firmly back in place. "Apparently, I have much to learn about Midgardian women."
Jane opens her mouth, but can't think of a single thing to say. She's still trying to figure out what exactly is going on here.
Loki glances around. "It's a sad little room, but marginally better than your 'temporary living situation'. Enjoy it for the evening, with my compliments." He releases her hand, finally, backing away and tipping her a little bow, one that reminds her all too easily of Thor. "Fare thee well, Dr. Foster."
She blinks, and he's gone. No light or fanfare, just gone.
It takes her an hour to stop shaking.
Good riddance, she tells herself. Repeatedly.
She leans over her pages of calculations, Darcy's voice droning on in the background as she describes some new boytoy of hers. Jane isn't hearing a single word, though she manages to make approving noises during the brief lulls in Darcy's monologue.
Not wanting to risk angering Loki, she'd spent the rest of the night in that room, and sadly, yes, it had been more comfortable than her own tiny bed. Although she'd worried that he might show up again, attacking her in her sleep, finally she'd been too exhausted to resist going to bed. In the end, all her fears had been for nothing - nothing had happened.
She remembers also being a bit afraid of what she would find when she left the motel room. Had Loki teleported her halfway around the world from Puente Antiguo? But she'd recognized the place's owner when she'd finally worked up the nerve to leave the room and go downstairs, and it turned out he had merely transported them to the town's single motel. Jane had never stayed at the motel before, so she hadn't recognized it at first, and she hadn't even thought to look out the room's single window to identify where she was. Even more surprising, Loki had somehow arranged to pay the bill! The whole thing was bizarre.
But now it's been over a week, and Loki has vanished from her dreams, from her life. She's no longer feeling his presence, no longer seeing him at the edges of her vision. She should be ecstatic, right?
Except she isn't. It's like a pebble in her shoe, bugging her as she tries to get her life back to normal. Even now, she can close her eyes and picture him, the predatory grace with which he moved. She can hear his voice in her head like some kind of strange music.
It's completely insane. She should be throwing herself an 'I'm-free-of-Loki' party. But the truth is, she's curious. A necessary quality for a scientist, but maybe not so much here. She keeps wondering where his 'game' would have ended up. Nothing I wouldn't have thoroughly enjoyed? It sounds like so much macho bullshit, when she repeats it (over and over) to herself like that, but then again, he obviously believed it. The myths say he's a womanizer, she reminds herself. That suggests he does know how to please a woman. Doesn't it?
Her traitorous memory keeps returning to the way his fingers had felt, wrapped around hers. She finds herself flexing her hand at odd moments, remembering the feel of his kiss. The way his lips had brushed so lightly against her skin, just before settling down to the business of kissing, and – although maybe her befuddled brain is totally making this all up – had there perhaps been just the tiniest touch of the tip of his tongue against her knuckle, before he'd pulled away?
Jane keeps thinking that kiss on her hand was almost like an advertisement: This is what my lips feel like on your hand. Imagine what my kiss might feel like….on other parts of you. And Jane is doing her best to not think about that. Failing miserably at it, yes, but doing her best.
In short, it's all driving her crazy. She finds herself looking for him constantly, feeling disappointed when he's never there.
Finally, she decides that she's reached her limit. Which leads to a new problem: How is she going to contact him, exactly? Nokia doesn't have trans-dimensional long-distance to Asgard. If Loki's even there.
Of course, this inevitably leads her to realize that she has the exact same problem with Thor: she can't contact him, can't find out why he broke his promise to her. But Jane soon pushes all Thor-related thoughts out of her mind. Things with Loki are complicated enough already, and she doesn't need to add guilt into the picture. Not that she's sure what she has to feel guilty about.
Instead, she forces herself back to the problem at hand, which is contacting Loki. It occurs to Jane that maybe, in fact, Loki is still here on Earth. Maybe he's even still in New Mexico. He obviously can make her see him, sense him, if he wants her to, so is it possible that he can make her not see him, even when he is there? She hopes so, because that's the only way her plan will work.
Her next problem is the venue. He hadn't been impressed by her trailer, but the motel room hadn't been a vast improvement. She lives out in the middle of nowhere, though, and she's not sure she wants to drive for hours, find a place, and then have him not show up. Besides, if he is still watching her, wouldn't her best bet to contact him be in the place where she saw and interacted with him the most?
Besides, it's familiar territory, and right now a bit part of Jane feels she needs that. She wants this, but it kind of scares her, too. She's never done anything like this before, and she thinks she needs all the familiarity, all the safety, that she can get.
Finally, there's the small matter of…well, what to wear, as silly and girly as that is. Jane decides she wants to send a message this time, but she has nothing really sexy in her underwear drawer. Again, she'd have to drive for miles just to find a place to buy something. She looks at a few online vendors, but imagining herself wearing this or that scrap of lace seems really…not her. Had Loki even seemed to care about that? In the end, she decides she should just be herself. Trying to dress up like some sultry seductress is not her, and it seems like a good way to just increase her natural awkwardness.
When she decides she's ready to attempt contact, the butterflies in her stomach multiply until she can't focus on anything else. Erik asks her if she's feeling OK, and Darcy gives her strange looks, so Jane makes excuses and heads out to the trailer early, cooking a supper that she can barely swallow, and she waits for the sun to set.
She stands outside the trailer for a few long moments, staring up at the stars, wondering if Loki is up there, and if he'll hear her.
When she climbs into bed, dressed in a camisole and panties, she's shaking all over again, but this time it's nervous energy and excitement. Which is ridiculous, really, when she stops and considers who she's excited about, but this stopped making logical sense a long time ago, and Jane figures she's just going to roll with it.
Here goes. "Loki," she says out loud. She prays hard that he is here, that he'll hear her somehow.
Nothing. She says his name again, louder. More nothing.
Her heart sinks, and she's starting to feel like an idiot. If she yells at the top of her lungs, will someone hear her? Will they think she's lost it?
"Loki!" she calls, almost as loud as she can yell. That's all she can manage to do, without feeling even more stupid.
More nothing happens again, and Jane curses and climbs out of bed. Stupid. This whole thing is stupid. He's gone, long gone, and why do I want this so bad, anyways?
She stomps into the kitchen and opens the fridge, bending down to lift the milk out of the bottom of the crammed door. Maybe if she drinks some warm milk, it'll help her sleep. Tomorrow, maybe she'll think of something else. Or, maybe she'll drop this whole crazy idea.
As she straightens up and shuts the fridge, something shifts at the edge of her vision. Loki is there, standing in the entrance to the sleeping nook. Watching her. Startled, Jane yelps and drops the milk. The carton manages not to break, and that's the first stroke of good luck she's had. Or rather, the second: Loki did answer her call, after all.
He's in his armour still, his arms folded over his chest, and one eyebrow is raised as he watches her scoop up the deeply dented milk carton and shove it into a cabinet. Jane wrenches her eyes off him, nervous all over again. Something's wrong. Oh- "Oh wait, that doesn't go there-" She bites her lip and retrieves the milk, returning it to the fridge.
"You summoned me," Loki says without preamble. "Explain yourself, woman." He looks angry, and Jane tries not to shiver.
Jane has rehearsed this in her mind about a hundred times over the last couple of days, and decides to go with her preferred opening gambit: "I want to know what changed your mind."
"You dare summon me back for an interrogation?" he voice shifts to a hiss and he takes a long step towards her, but Jane squeezes her fists shut and holds her ground.
"I want to know what changed your mind," she repeats.
He rolls his eyes. "From what to what?" he asks irritably, turning away from her and studying the mugs in her dishrack with more attention than seems warranted.
"You were angry. And no matter what you say now, I think you did want to hurt me-"
"Who says I won't now?" he snarls, and then he's standing right in front of her, looming over her. Christ, he's tall.
"You won't," Jane says, though she's not really sure why she's so sure of that. Somehow, her voice isn't shaking. She looks him pointedly in the eyes. "I think you did want to hurt me at first, but now you aren't going to. I want to know why."
He laughs and turns away from her again. "You don't know me well enough to feel so assured of my clemency."
Jane folds her arms and tries out her own glare against him. "Answer the damned question."
He stalks around the narrow confines of her kitchen, looking anywhere but at her. "Fine," he says finally, gazing out a window, rather than at her. "Hate."
Jane blinks, not expecting that reply, and not understanding it, either. "What?"
"Hate," he repeats, looking over at her and smirking again. He obviously enjoys being cryptic. "You hate Thor. For abandoning you. Not, perhaps, as much as I hate him, but it's something. Everyone in Asgard loves that dull idiot, they're all too stupid to see how irresponsible a king he would make. Whereas they treat me like-" He stops, shaking his head.
"Anyways, I think you Midgardians say, 'mine enemy's enemy is my friend', so," he shrugs. He walks back in front of her, and cups her chin in his hand, pulling her face up until he can look her in the eyes. "I've answered your question, mortal, now you answer one of mine. Why did you summon me?"
Jane's not sure what to say, exactly, and it's hard to think when he's this close to her. Her brain wants to focus instead on the feeling of his warm hand, the scent of leather, the colour of his eyes….
Finally, she decides to follow his lead: Be cryptic. "Because I wanted to," she says. Let him puzzle that out. Besides, it's the truth.
He lets go of her and paces slowly around the perimeter of the kitchen again, obviously thinking over her answer. His elbow catches the edge of the dishrack, almost knocking it off the counter, and Loki tsks and straightens it.
He turns to face her. "What else do you want?" he finally asks in a low voice, one that seems to slip caressingly down her spine.
Jane's not sure what to say. She's never been good at this part, at just coming out and telling someone what she wants and needs, period. Never mind in the bedroom, which is where she thinks this is bound to wind up.
In the end, she just says what she thinks he wants to hear: "I want to be yours." Maybe he'll see it as a cop-out, maybe he wants her to talk dirty, to be very specific about what she wants him to do to her, and how. But again, she's saying only the truth. If that even matters to a God of Lies.
He gives her a long, intent look. "Then you will be. Mine, and mine alone. Do you understand?"
She nods, and the green light comes, washing out her vision, but she expects it this time, almost relaxing into it. It seems to take longer than before, and it feels like they are indeed going farther away this time.
The new room they wind up in is definitely a big improvement. Got to be a penthouse room, Jane thinks. The bed is huge, the windows are wall-to-wall, and there's a beach miles away. Oh, and it's daytime. Just how far did he bring her?
But Loki's standing in front of her again, and Jane doesn't have time to think about the practicalities, not anymore. He moves forward, slowly and inexorably herding her backwards, until her back is to the wall and there's nowhere left to escape to. Not that she has any plans in that direction. She feels dwarfed by him, and finds herself unable to look into his eyes. "I'll be taking that kiss now," he says at last, a rasping note on the edge of his voice.
He picks her up like she weighs nothing (to him, she probably doesn't), leaning in and pressing her back against the wall. Her feet dangle helplessly, and she clutches at his armour, wrapping one hand around the belt slung over his right shoulder, and the other hand around the green lapel of his…whatever it is. Dreamily, Jane thinks that the first thing she should do when she gets home, is educate herself on what the different parts of his armour are called.
His leather-clad thigh shoves roughly between hers, holding her up and pinning her in place, his hands on her ribs, fingers moving in small circles against her sides. She wonders if he can hear how fast her heart is beating.
Loki licks his lips slowly, making sure she witnesses it, and then he leans in, but some impulse makes Jane turn away slightly, so that his mouth ends up on the edge of her jaw. She feels him grin against her, his breath heating her skin, and she shudders. He nips her, then moves lower, and Jane feels sharp teeth on her neck. She clutches tighter at his armour, gasping.
He laughs darkly, sending shivers through her. "Making me work for it, are you? Foolish woman." His hands come up and seize her wrists, raising her arms high above her head and pinning them to the wall. Jane squeezes her thighs around his, writhing, unable to stop herself. Part of her wants to conceal how much she's enjoying this, though she's not sure why.
But Loki notices, of course. Jane doesn't think much gets by the God of Mischief. Especially not if he can use it to his advantage. He shifts his grip, trapping her wrists in one large hand. His other hand slides down her arm in a soft caress, and then he wraps his fingers in her hair. He's gentle at first, but once he's taken up the slack, his grip turns forceful, pulling her face back towards his.
His kiss is rough, urgent, and though there's a brief moment of discomfort when his teeth scrape against hers, Jane doesn't care. He tastes like salt and iron, and a bit like wine. She wonders if he likes the flavour of her toothpaste. She doesn't think anyone has ever kissed her like this, so passionately and thoroughly. Like he can't get enough of her. His tongue is like a snake, slipping over her tongue, caressing along the backs of her teeth, and Jane squeezes her thighs around his again. Her nipples harden in anticipation as his hand leaves her hair, fingertips tracing down the side of her neck, along her collarbone, and then down to the top edge of her camisole.
He breaks the kiss, and Jane drags in a ragged breath. She feels something move against her wrists, but it doesn't feel like his hand. She looks up, her breath catching when she realizes there's a snake, a real snake, gliding from Loki's wrist, slipping around both of hers.
"What are you-?" Jane gasps.
He laughs, and it sounds positively evil. His free hand continues its journey down, stopping and squeezing her nipple sharply through the fabric of her camisole, and Jane arches her back and moans, almost forgetting about the snake. "I'm merely making sure I have both hands free to torment you with," he purrs roughly into her ear.
Jane feels the snake wind itself firmly around her wrists, two, three times, then there's another green flash of light in the room. It leaves purple after-impressions on her vision, but when she blinks them away and looks up, she sees that the snake has turned itself into some kind of thick snakeskin cuff. A hook that Jane is positive hadn't been there on the wall before has also popped into being, and Loki wastes no time hooking the homemade cuff onto that. Jane realizes she is totally at his mercy.
"There," Loki continues, gloating. "I enjoy listening to the sounds you make when you surrender to me." He pulls hard at the top of her camisole, and both straps tear like they are made of paper. He pulls the fabric down to Jane's waist, and she can't help squirming, feeling completely exposed.
He kisses her again, his tongue pushing hard into her mouth, both hands cupping her breasts, though he doesn't touch her nipples. But she can feel his armour against them as he presses closer, the leather rubbing oh so slightly against her sensitive nipples, and she moans again, into his mouth, trying not to dig her fingernails into her own palms.
He breaks the kiss, and looks down, watching her body's response when he does touch her, firmly squeezing and tugging on her stiff nipples. Jane bites her lip and throws her head back as much as she can, twisting her head against her trapped arms, thighs flexing helplessly around the iron muscle of his leg. She's sure that she's leaving wet marks on his thigh. "Oh God," she gasps, not even aware what she's saying.
"Yes, I am. Thank you for noticing," he mocks, before scraping his teeth along her neck. Jane swallows another gasp as he slides his hands under her thighs, lifting her up off his leg. The tension in her bonds somehow doesn't change, there's no room for escape, as he lifts her high enough that he can bend his dark head to her breast. Jane tenses, somehow sure that he's going to nip, and she's not sure if she wants him to or not, or how hard.
He doesn't, but he sucks on her almost hard enough to hurt. But it's a good hurt, and Jane squirms again, very conscious of how close his hands are to discovering just how aroused she is. Loki accords her other nipple the same attention, then pulls away, blowing lightly on her moist skin, chuckling as she continues to squirm and moan. It seems to be all she can do, but if he's enjoying her responses, maybe it's not something Jane should be worrying about.
Jane bites her lip, trying not to beg him not to stop, as he lets her back down onto his leg, her bonds again seamlessly adjusting. His hands slide slowly up her thighs. "You won't be needing this rag any longer," he growls, his fingers slipping under each side of her panties, tracing small circles over her hot skin. She can't see exactly what he's doing, his broad shoulders are blocking her view, but she feels a sharp tug and hears a tearing sound. Jane shuts her eyes, feeling him pull the last of her meager protection away. She's totally exposed, totally naked, and completely helpless.
"Look at me," Loki snarls, and Jane looks into his eyes, which seem more blue than green right now. His hands are on her again, shifting her so that she's no longer resting on his leg, but with her thighs splayed wide, his hands cupped under each of her knees.
Small beads of sweat glimmer on his face and neck, and Jane doesn't know how he can stand wearing all that leather; she's completely naked and yet she feels like she's going to go up in flames any second. She's even more certain of that when he hooks his thigh back under one of her knees, then slides his hand right between her legs.
Jane gasps at the contact, his fingers slipping sensuously against her folds. She can feel how slick she is, and she can't help shuddering and moaning all over again. Loki leans in, his hair brushing softly against her face like raven's feathers. "You're so wet…your body knows it's master, I see," he says in a low voice. Jane blushes and bites her lip, not sure what to say, or even if a reply is necessary. His fingers slip inside her, invading her, stretching her, his tongue circling her earlobe.
Jane doesn't know how many of his fingers are inside her, only that his movements soon become rough and fast, thrusting hard in and out of her. Then he's licking the side of her neck, and at the end of every thrust of his hand, his thumb is pushing hard against her aching clit, and within seconds there's nothing she can do except throw her head back and ride his hand, panting hard and trying to remember to breathe.
She's right on the edge when his thrusts become deliberately slow, and she can feel him grinning against the side of her neck. "Beg me, Jane," he purrs, laughing as her hips buck, trying to get him to move faster again. "Convince me, and I might just allow you to experience the heights of your pleasure."
Might? Jane hopes that's just another of Loki's empty threats. She licks her dry lips, tries to get her throat to work. "Please." The word Master won't come out, though she tries hard, because Loki would probably respond well to that, megalomaniac that he is. But it just won't come out. Blame it on her inner militant feminist.
"What?" he asks, mockingly. His fingers slide out of her a little, and Jane moans and tries to pull her legs together, trap him inside her, but he's too strong and she can't move.
"Please," she tries again, and then, on sheer instinct. "Please, Loki."
"Much better," he growls approvingly, and he sinks his teeth into the side of her neck. Jane yelps, but it turns into a gasp as his fingers shove deep inside her again, and he whips her right back to the precipice with a speed that nearly kills her.
"Yessss," he hisses encouragingly in her ear, and she goes over the edge, her muscles spasming helplessly, biting her lip so she won't scream. When it's all over, her head drops heavily forward, her forehead resting on Loki's shoulder for a moment. His fingers withdraw slowly from her, her inner muscles reluctant to let him go. It's been awhile, a long while, and even taking that into account, Jane doesn't think it's ever been as good as this. "Thank you," she says, almost without realizing she's saying it.
"I don't recall saying that I was done with you yet," he mocks, right into her ear. He releases her and backs away entirely, and for a moment she's hanging limply against the wall, her wrists taking her full weight. Sluggish, it takes her an eternity to realize what he just said.
Her bonds dissolve without warning, and Jane slides down the wall, but before she can pitch bonelessly to the floor, Loki catches her, moving like a striking snake. He lifts her in his arms, and then effortlessly, almost casually, tosses her onto the huge bed.
Jane clears her throat, tries to get her arms and legs to work properly, but they are putting up a good show of resistance. "I need a minute," she tries to explain to him. "You may be a god, but I'm not, and if you want me to be able to do anything, I need some recovery time."
He stands by the bed, not looking at her, too busy stripping off the outermost layer of his armour, but after he casts it aside, he runs his hand through his hair, messing it up in an endearing way, and turns towards her.
Loki shakes his head, the familiar teasing smirk gracing his face again. "I don't require you to do anything." He grasps her hips and pulls her to the edge of the bed, then he kneels down on the floor, letting her legs drape over his arms. The smirk becomes a leer. "Except come for me. Again."
He licks a wet path up her thigh, and Jane digs her nails into the quilt. It's too soon after her first orgasm, she's too sensitive, but he's got her hips in a grip strong as iron, his broad shoulders keeping her legs far apart. She can't pull away, can't escape the almost too-intense pleasure washing over her. Jane clutches at his shoulders, digging her nails into the leather, but he only pauses for a moment. His eyes laugh at her. "People are always telling me I have a silver tongue," he remarks.
It's only a brief respite, though. Her hips buck helplessly under his hands as his tongue goes back to circling her clit, around and around in agonizing circles. When he sucks on it, she bites back a squeal and tangles her fingers in his hair, but he's not having any of that.
Grinning evilly, he grabs her wrists again, pulling her hands from his hair and pinning them to her belly all too easily with one hand. "You're not in control, my dear," he chides her mockingly. It loses a little sting when his mouth and chin are shiny with her juices, though. Then he's back to his ministrations between her legs, one hand and his forearm keeping her thighs wide apart.
It's too much, the pleasure right on the edge of becoming pain, and this time she does scream. Loudly.
When Jane can get her eyes to focus again, Loki's standing over her, slowly wiping his chin with the palm of his hand. Christ, is he done? I don't think I can handle another-
He laughs softly, looking down at her, but he doesn't seem to be laughing at her. "My dear brother should have taken you when he had the chance. Fool. Instead, I am the one who gets to enjoy all you have to offer." Deliberately holding her gaze, he licks his palm in a way that probably would turn her on all over again….if she hadn't just had two intense orgasms. He leans down over her, a mock serious expression on his face, his voice dropping lower, like what he's about to say next is meant to be a private matter, just between Jane and himself: "Though for the record, from what I understand from the gossip, let us say that his abilities in the bedroom are not as expert as my own. Mjölnir may help him win battles against foes, but not many battles between sheets!" he laughs, obviously pleased with himself.
This jealousy of Thor can't be healthy, Jane thinks. She'll have to talk to Loki about it. Just…not now.
He's still wearing most of his armour, and the incongruity of it suddenly hits Jane like a bucket of ice-water. "Are you going to take all that stuff off? How are you not dying of heat right now?" He's definitely sweating, and perhaps there's even a pale flush of colour in his cheeks. Jane finds it a bit comforting, though, that he's enough like mortals to at least sweat.
Loki's eyes darken, and the commanding expression returns to his face. "Silence," he rasps. He reaches down, grabbing her by the shoulders and rolling her roughly over onto her belly. "I did not give you leave to speak," he chides her coldly, but before she can be tempted to backtalk him, there's a rustle of cloth, and then he's jerking her up onto her knees, and she can feel the hot length of him pressing against her thigh.
There's something I'm forgetting, Jane realizes suddenly. Something important….oh crap! "Wait!" Jane says, trying to shift away from him.
His hands tighten around her hips, preventing any escape, and Jane twists around to look back at him over her shoulder. He's looking at her like he can't believe she's stalling. "I rather think," he opines with deceptive mildness, "that I have more than earned the right to-"
"It's not that," Jane interrupts him. She doesn't know if Asgardians and Midgardians can breed, but she's not about to risk her career to find out. "I- I do want you to. But we need protection."
His eyebrows practically disappear into his hairline. "Protection? What nonsense is this? My brother, as you have no doubt noticed, is not here to….interrupt us." His voice shifts into a low growl, and he pulls her hard against him, grinding his erection into the back of her thigh. "And there is no force in Yggdrasil that will protect you from me."
"It's a human -Midgardian- thing," Jane explains quickly. "It's called a condom. We use it to prevent pregnancy. There's at least one in my trailer….at home. Oh crap." Stupid, stupid, stupid! This is either going to ruin the mood totally…or maybe Loki isn't going to oblige her, a thought which makes her hands go cold. Why didn't she think of this earlier? She thought of everything else-
Loki lets go of her, clearly aggravated, then disappears in a green flash. He's back again almost as quickly, between one heartbeat and the next, tossing a box on the bed. "I trust these will do." It's not the brand she uses, so he must have hit up a pharmacy in the area.
"Those should be fine," Jane says. She can't help noticing that he didn't bother to zip up before leaving, and she hopes he didn't give some poor human the shock of their lives. At least he's still, um, excited.
"Good," he says, twisting a handful of her brown hair around his hand. He uses his grip on her hair to pull her face towards his, until he can speak directly into her ear. "But I'm going to make you pay dearly for delaying my pleasure, woman," he continues in a hiss that makes her shiver. He gestures at the box. "Be quick about it."
Jane swallows a little nervously as she rolls the condom onto him. Pay dearly? He'sstill wearing most of that damned armour, and it's becoming obvious that he has no intention of stripping down totally for her.
When Jane is done, he releases his grip on her hair. "Now get on your knees, and face away from me." She does, and he makes her wait on all fours for what seems like forever, before his hands grasp her shoulders and push her face and upper body down into the mattress, pulling her hands tightly behind her back.
She doesn't expect him to start by pushing slowly into her, millimeter by millimeter, but Loki obviously is enjoying every second of it, to judge by his laughter. He pulls out just as slowly, and it soon becomes evident that he's intent on teasing her this way for quite a long while.
Jane groans and tries to push back against him, tries to speed things along, but he laughs off her efforts at first, continuing the same easy, tormenting pace, his free hand reaching around to press lightly on her nipple.
"How soon you forget, Jane," he reminds her finally. "You know what you have to do."
Christ, this again. On the other hand, the orgasm score right now is Jane: 2, Loki: 0, so I suppose if he wants this- "Please, Loki, I'm begging you, stop teasing me!" Jane's voice cracks embarrassingly, and she presses her face against the sheets to hide her blush. But it works; he rewards her by thrusting harder and faster inside her, hitting all the right spots over and over.
Jane thinks she'll just die of frustration if he slows down or stops again, so she doesn't hold back, continuing to beg him, until he's moving so fast and rough inside her that she can't catch her breath, and as his fingertips find her clit and start massaging it, that's all it takes for Jane. Make that Jane: 3, is her last coherent thought.
As she starts to come down from her orgasm, Loki suddenly stops moving, and she can feel him pulsing inside her as he finally gives in. He gasps over and over, and she realizes it's the first time in their whole encounter that he's allowed himself to give up control like that. She thinks she could get used to hearing him make those sounds.
He is withdrawing from her, releasing her wrists, and Jane collapses onto the bed, everything becoming a green-tinged haze, before she surrenders to total exhaustion.
She doesn't know how long she's out for, but she wakes back in her trailer, tucked into her bed, still naked. Aching in all the deliciously right places. And alone. Apparently Loki's affections (if Jane can bring herself to call it that) do not extend to post-sex cuddling. Or at least, not yet. Jane's a little disappointed, but in the end she decides that she's feeling too satisfied to stay annoyed at him. She stretches lazily, and goes back to sleep, too sated to do otherwise.
Later, when she finally gets up and notices the red bitemarks on her neck, that's when the doubts start to creep back in. He bit her, he marked her…should she be bothered by this? And he left without saying goodbye, or anything else. Is she even going to see him again, or was this the Asgardian version of a one-night stand?
But when her gaze falls on a SHIELD folder lying on her tiny, cluttered kitchen table, then reality really comes crashing back in. It had been one thing when Loki was only in her dreams, or lurking in the edges of her waking life like a mirage, but now he's here in reality. She may be safe from him – maybe – but what about everyone else? Will Loki try to take some kind of revenge on Erik, on the Avengers? Does he have some new plan to take over the Earth and bend everyone to his will, and she's just some treat on the side that he'll reward himself with, after a good (bad?) day of misdeeds?
It worries her enough to make her pick up the phone, but her hand freezes mid-dial. What is she going to tell Director Fury, exactly? "Loki is here." Yes? How do you know, Dr. Foster? "Well, Director, that's because he fucked me five ways from Sunday mere hours ago."
Oh yeah, that'll go over real well. She isn't exactly happy with SHIELD lately, but they are helping her with her research. If they find out that she's sleeping with Loki, will they take all her life's work from her again? Will they brand her a traitor and lock her up? It makes Jane shake just thinking about it. Why didn't I think this through before? It makes her wonder if Loki really is mind-controlling her somehow, to make her forget how potentially dangerous he is. However, she's sure, in her heart, that it's not true. She's in her own right mind, even if her 'right mind' seems to be making crazy decisions these days.
She agonizes about it for several days, all the while wondering if Loki will even return to her again. He certainly hadn't indicated that he was going to be coming back anytime soon. Or maybe he's waiting for her to summon him again? If that's the case, and she never does, maybe he never will reappear, and her problems with SHIELD will basically never become an issue. She can't warn the government about plans she knows nothing about, right?
The other side of the coin worries her even more, though. That one is: if she does warn S.H.I.E.L.D….what will Loki do, if he finds out? He'll probably see it as a betrayal, and this time he really will kill her. Probably slowly and painfully.
Jane feels trapped between a wall and an immovable object.
Finally, she makes a compromise with herself. As long as Loki doesn't threaten anyone specific, or mention any specific plans to destroy or invade her planet, she won't admit to anyone that he's here. It sucks, it makes her feel like a traitor, but the truth is that she still wants him, and she will summon him back – and soon, if he doesn't just turn up on his own – and she just can't let this go. She's never been with anyone like him, and may never be again, and she wants to see where this ends up.
God help her.