Notes: features panty kink and light femdom

It's nothing more than a scrap of flimsy cloth. And yet…

Loki picks up the thong from the dresser, runs the sheer fabric between his fingers. He hasn't given much thought to what Natasha wears under her Shield uniform. They're merely encumbrances, to be disposed of as quickly as possible so that he may indulge his overwhelming need to feel the warmth of her lush curves under his palms.

(For a mortal, what madness, how could he sink so low—)

"What are you doing?"

He turns to find Natasha rousing from the bed, the sheets pooled around her waist. Her cool gaze flickers from the underwear in his grasp back up to his face.

"This hardly seems comfortable," he says haltingly. His response elicits a confused tilt of her head before her posture softens and she gives him an indulgent smile. It's a rare enough sight, one that sets Loki's heart tripping over its rhythm (though he refuses to dwell on the reasons why).

Natasha lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug. The movement draws attention to her breasts and Loki feels his cock begin to stir. "You get used to it. It's not as uncomfortable as you think."

"No?"

Something in her gaze sharpens. "Why don't you try it on and see for yourself?" she suggests, and though his first impulse is to refuse, the faint tremor of lust in her voice convinces him otherwise. He bends down, lifts each leg into it. The fit is snug but Loki manages to pull it over his thighs until the thin straps settle against his hipbones.

"What do you think?"

It is unfamiliar. Strange. And quite honestly, a little ridiculous. His cock peeks out over the top, the cloth in the front too small to contain it. Loki somehow feels more exposed than when he was simply standing naked in her presence. Despite all this, he is aroused. Achingly erect. Loki shifts, trying to adjust the strip of cloth between the cheeks of his ass and his knees nearly buckle at the sensation of the silky fabric sliding over him.

"It is not…entirely unpleasant," he admits in a hoarse whisper.

Her eyes gleam with amusement. "I can see that." Throwing the sheets off, Natasha crawls to the edge of the bed. He finds himself mesmerized by the sinuous motion of her body, the sway of her hips, the shifting of lean muscle under skin that it takes him a moment to realize that she's summoning him with a crook of her finger. Even though something inside him burns at the indignity (like a common dog, how dare she), he does as she bids until he's standing directly in front of her.

Now kneeling on the mattress, Natasha twines one arm around his neck, burying her hand in his hair. With the other she palms him gently, pressing the heel of her hand under the head of his cock. "I like it on you," she whispers, her breath warm on his neck.

Loki moans and rolls his hips, seeking a firmer touch but she maddeningly, infuriatingly, denies him. Natasha tugs sharply on his hair, the pain dancing along his scalp a silent command to stay still. When he obeys she rewards him with a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Shhh..." she croons, petting him lightly through the lace. Her teasing caresses are a sweet torture, as is the drag of her pert nipples across his chest. She takes him apart in that ruthlessly efficient manner that he has come to crave, fingertips skittering over his balls before finding the sensitive spot behind them. She scratches lightly, rubs slow, tight circles until he's teetering on the edge of his release. Natasha keeps him there, panting, desperate, until he half-collapses against her, hands digging into her waist, his forehead on the curve of her shoulder.

"Natasha," he groans, hips snapping forward, greedy for more. He turns his head and inhales deeply. She smells of him, of sex and oh how he wants to drown in her. "Natasha…please…"

This time her touch stills. She grazes his earlobe with her teeth and laughs softly. "Since you asked so very nicely…"

He nearly whimpers with relief when Natasha wraps the fabric of her thong around his cock and grips him tightly. It only takes a few hard pulls before Loki spills all over her hand, his ragged shout muffled against her skin.

Before he can catch his breath Natasha manages to twist them around until he's flat on the bed. She swiftly straddles him, her slickness smearing across his abdomen, and brings her semen-coated fingers to his lips. As Loki begins to lick them clean, he hears her say, "Maybe you can put on the matching bra too."

He finds that he's not completely averse to the idea.