Chapter Twenty-Nine

You Are Mine, Not His.

The small apartment in Canberra had never seemed as lonely as it did that evening. Across the street, the bar continued its roaring trade, patrons becoming increasingly rowdy with every drop of liquor. The artistic stainless steel clock above the fridge taunted Alex with its relentless ticking, every one reminding her that she was alone. Loki was eons away. The only way she would ever feel his fingers upon her flesh, his lips pressed against hers, would be if he proved himself redeemed. It would be wise to assume she would never be with him again.

Alex did not wish to cry. She would make it through, just like she had all the other complications life threw at her. Surely Loki was merely the first: the key that opened the door to a new world of sexual and emotional experience? She loved him now, but could that tainted love come to anything? It was broken and unstable.

Yet broken as it was, it had become her reason for breathing. The damaging lust that had haunted her from the onset was now replaced by a destructive love. Why did Loki spark such intense reactions within her? She wished she could merely part with a doting of fondness, a mind packed with wonderful memories of a magnificent lover.

Sighing, Alex removed herself from the nest she had created in her living room. The idea of unpacking was repellent, as though the moment her belongings touched ground in their old home, her Asgardian dream would disappear forever. Maybe, between now and the commencement of her Geraldine assignment, she would receive the coveted phone call? A few short words from Fury stating that it had been a mistake. That she needed to go back to Asgard. Go back home.

But the phone remained ever silent.

Rustling through the cupboards, Alex located her trusty stash of long life juice and milk. It was hardly appealing, but she had yet to venture into the public eye. She would go shopping tomorrow – or perhaps the next day. The tails of Loki's coat hissed against the kitchen tiles, his scent filling her nostrils with every step, a taunting reminder of the night before.

She knew she ought to remove the coat, place it in its plastic coffin and preserve the vestiges of Loki's scent upon the leather. Yet every time she went to shrug it from her shoulders, memories of the previous night flooded her mind. It was torture. Glorious torture. And it all began with a tiny slip of emerald lace...

oOoOoOo

Loki withdrew completely before venturing to answer her question. Slumped against the door, Alex found it difficult to wrench her gaze from him. Even flushed in the aftermath of their embrace, he was perfection. The sharp contours of his jaw; the endless column of his neck; the toned expanse of his chest; the delectable sight of his semi-erect cock. It drew the breath from her body. She had often pondered how insanely unfair it was. Why should someone so – bad – be so insanely beautiful? What made it worse was the fact that Loki knew exactly what kind of effect he had on women (and men). He played it, manipulated it, sealing the deal with a well-placed kiss or tilted smirk of his formed thin lips.

"You ask too many questions, mortal."

Mortal? Alex almost laughed. Old habits die hard. She watched as Loki unravelled the emerald lace knickers from around his fingers, letting the sheer fabric pool in the palm of his hand. His cock was now completely erect, yet when she strained to reach for it, he slapped away her fingers.

"They are my favourite."

The words were as weak as her voice. Loki uttered a breathy chuckle, gently stroking the soft material in his hand. "The undergarments or my cock?"

"Both."

Alex did not understand the inkling of modesty that assaulted her at this time, causing her to stand straight, scoop the straps of her silken dress over her shoulders. It was not as though modesty had played a part in their relationship before. After all, during their first encounter, she had been wearing naught but a near-transparent nightgown and a pair of walking boots.

Loki cocked an inquiring eyebrow. "And what of my coat?"

Oh, so this was what it was all about. A token for a token. Alex was momentarily struck with the surreal image of Loki riding into battle, her blazing green knickers tied to his belt. She doubted Steve Rogers would partake in such an act to please his lady. But then, the dear Captain was not a sadistic, mischievous sex god.

"I intended to return it."

"Do not bother. I have several. Just as you have many of these." Loki dangled the knickers before her, before dropping them into her open palm. "Put them on, remove the dress."

"And if I don't want to?"

A dark glint haunted Loki's emerald eyes. "I will rip it from you with my teeth."

The God of Mischief fell onto the bed, long fingers wrapping around his rigid length. Alex could barely move, so intoxicated was she by the sight. It was not as though it was a new thing, but so many weeks had passed...

Gently, she lowered the straps, the silk gown pooling around her ankles. The bruises from Malory's assault the night before had paled, yet Loki's expression darked as his eyes fell upon them. With as much dignity as she could muster, Alex slipped into the tiny green knickers.

She had not lied when she said they were her favourite. Yet, this did not necessarily mean she had worn them. They had been purchased during her last excursion to Midgard. The tiny slip of lace and its matching brassiere had caught her eye in one of the more pricey lingerie stores in Canberra. Usually her underwear, both functional and sexy, was purchased from the local Big W, yet the bold green lace had lured her in. She bought them for Loki, yet had never worn them for him. Perhaps she feared they would meet the same fate as her crimson knickers, those that had fallen victim to his wrath in the library.

Loki breath morphed into a hiss at the sight of her. "Turn."

She did, only to hear the rhythm of Loki's pumping increase. "These are obscene," he growled, his unused fingers trailing the hem of the knickers across her arse. She stepped back, closer to his skilled fingers, nearer to him. Every inch of her skin was beyond sensitised, her nipples hard pebbles, her clit aching for his touch, his tongue.

The pumping stopped. Alex barely registered as both his hands clamped on her hips, drawing her down upon his legs. The head of his cock brushed passed the lace, spearing her in one sharp thrust of his hips.

"Always so ready," he moaned into her ear, words burning into her skull. "You really are my little whore."

Alex merely nodded, rocking her hips against his thrusts, tears making their steady way down flushed cheeks. Loki's fingers explored, slipping beneath the hem of the knickers to slip between her folds, circling her aching clit. The other hand cupped a breast, squeezing a tight nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

The angle was divine, his cock reaching new depths. If she were to place her palm on her lower stomach, she suspected she would feel his length within her, but her fingers were too busy grasping his thighs, the mattress, anything to stop her sliding off him in her haze of intense physical pleasure.

The moans were guttural as she finally came, leaning back against his chest, eyes clamped shut. His release came soon after.

Her body was weak as he lifted it, laying her almost delicately upon the mattress. Compared to the harsh cedar surface of the door, it was almost ridiculously soft. As the back of her head touched the pillow, her swollen lips were covered by his own. It was the kind of hot, wet kiss she delighted it, fingers curling in his soft raven locks as he ravaged her mouth with his silver tongue. He was relentless, clearly unwilling to allow her even a second to recover.

A heated trail of kisses left her lips, venturing to the ivory column of her neck. Teeth grazed her collar bone, biting, sucking; the red welt left in their wake sure to last several days. Alex knew she ought to complain, but his mouth was now upon her breast, tongue swirling her nipple while his fingers mimicked the action on its sister.

She knew what would follow, legs spreading in anticipation. This stance was made wider as his fingers slipped between her thighs, cupping her, fingers rubbing her through the emerald lace. His face soon replaced his hands, tongue flickering across the pale expanse of her inner thighs before running across the tiny triangular front of her knickers. The material dampened further, her hips bucking into his teasing embrace.

"Tell me what you want, Alexandra."

Alex expelled an excruciated sigh. "I want you to lick me, Loki."

"Not nearly good enough. What. Do. You. Want?"

"Eat me out, Loki. Just please... do it!"

"If you want me to devour your cunt, Alexandra, you will have to ask me. Directly."

"Fuck you, Loki."

He chucked against her heated flesh. "I suppose that will have to do, for now." In the space of seconds, Loki pulled the knickers from her body, moving away only momentarily to unravel the lace from around her ankles.

Alex's breath hitched as Loki lowered his face between her outstretched thighs. The heat of his tongue against her swollen flesh was almost unbearable, the light, teasing strokes against her clit. He seemed almost to purr into her sex, fingernails gripping her arse now, licks becoming longer. Was it possible that he was enjoying this even more than she?

With every lick, every stroke, every suck, she melted further into him. Weaving her fingers through his raven locks, she pushed him closer, back arching against fluffy haven of the bed.

"Loki..."

The moan left her mouth before she could stop it. His responding groan vibrated against her clit, his tongue making a quick exploration of her entrance. This was swiftly replaced by two long fingers. Alex gasped as they plunged deep enough to hit her g-spot, a place she barely reached herself. Loki curved his fingers, massaging the area, his lips curled into a smirk as she rocked against him.

"Is this not better, little one? Obey me and I can be a most accommodating master." Fortunately, his verbal seduction did not continue, his tongue circling her clit rapidly as his fingers thrust. Alex felt the strings of control keeping her together start to snap, her body, soul and mind unravelling under his skilled ministrations. Stars dashed behind her closed eyes as she found the end, back arching from the bed, fingers nearly ripping the hair from his skull...

oOoOoOo

Even now, enclosed in the pale walls of her apartment, Alex could feel the residual effects of his lips upon her sex. Slowly, her fingers slipped beneath the loose hem of her pyjama pants, own cool fingertips finding her memory aroused clit. As she stroked, Loki's scent doused her, the ghosts of his words taunting her from the past.

oOoOoOo

The cascade of the shower was relentless against her back, her pale hair turned to ribbons as the water clung to every strand. The pain in her knees did not register. She concentrated instead on his instructions...

Use only your lips and tongue. I will fuck your mouth later.

She should be annoyed with Loki, sick of his foul tongue, yet even as the words emerged she felt herself dampen. Even now could feel her own desire dripping down her thighs, mingling with the water, the ache in her sex intensifying as she licked the head of his cock. He was pure steel beneath her lips, hot and delicious as she nipped, licked and kissed her way to his base. A gasp escaped his lips as her tongue fondled his testicles. Later, she decided, she would make him come simply through sucking and licking the glorious sac. She moved away, continuing her assault upon his weeping head until he came, his sticky fluid spraying her naked breasts and neck, only to be washed away by the water.

As she rose to her feet, Loki drew her close. "You are mine, not his."

"Yours."

oOoOoOo

Rest did not meet them that night, nor did they covet it. They kissed, loved, fucked, sucked, licked, laughed, spoke, cuddled until the first vestige of sunlight dribbled through his heavy golden curtains.

The mood had grown sullen then. Any minute, the stitches would appear, and Loki would be escorted to his daily prison. Their actions had said much, yet the final silence was a cruel torture neither of them could bare.

"We will be together again soon, Alexandra. I will make sure of it."

"Be good."

A small smile curled his lips. "I have incentive enough to be so."

oOoOoOo

He promised they would be together, but as Alex brought herself to the edge on the cluttered floor of her own apartment, she wondered what context that would be in. Would he attempt seduction within the heavily monitored cell at Geraldine? Would he escape; attempt once more to rule Midgard with her as his personal whore? She could not help but shake the feeling that he would eventually tire of her. With a plethora of succulent mortals at his beck and call, what would he see in her?

She had not gone to see him again before she left. She wanted to remember her lover, the Adonis sprawled in bed beside her, not the chained, silenced man in the courtyard. The final hours in Asgard were all she had before reality took hold. Geraldine. Malory. Midgard.

Her final moment in Asgard was spent with Frigga.

The Queen drew her aside, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It is sad to see you leave so soon, Agent Beckett."

"It is sad to leave," Alex replied, her internal monologue screaming: don't cry! Don't cry! It was then than Frigga did the unexpected, wrapping her arms around Alex. The words she whispered into Alex's ears were those she would never forget. They haunted her on the flight back to Canberra, taunted her as she remained alone within the apartment. They would also follow her to Geraldine.

"Look after my son, Alexandra."