To this day, I don't know if it was a spell, or a drug, or something completely unfathomable. All I know is that every damn person in our ruined city suffered from it.
Things had completely collapsed two months before. Loki's would-be invasion was overtaken by something else, something worse – I still don't know the details. I'm not sure anyone still living does. We won, in the sense that the world wasn't utterly destroyed, but it had come damn close.
One of the results was the fact that Thor and Loki were effectively stranded on Earth. Why and how are two other things I don't know, and it's not like either of them are willing to say. Maybe they're not sure, either.
I'd seen them both periodically, because those of us who survived didn't have many places to go. Like a sane person, I'd avoided Loki as much as I could, because even without his weapons, the dude still freaked me out. He was usually quiet, but on the rare occasions he did lose his temper, he really, really lost it.
That changed when the curse hit.
It seemed like it happened everywhere at once – like every single damn person got whacked with a metaphorical horny stick. Shit, some people started going at it in public, and let me tell you, some things just can't be unseen, no matter how much I want to scrub them out of my brain with lye.
Now, I'm not a sexual person. I suppose you could call me asexual, though at the time I'd never heard the term. All I knew was that this sensation was alien, and under the circumstances totally horrifying, so I did the only thing I could think to do: I hid. I scrambled to the room I'd put together, so horny I couldn't think straight. I knew in theory how to, uh, take care of it myself, and I was damned if I'd get pawed over by some near stranger. I had two hands, thank you so very much.
It was a hot evening, and my little room was even hotter. I felt like I was burning alive even after I'd stripped off my tank top and jeans, my fingers fumbling inexpertly as I tried to ease the internal fire that felt like it was going to consume me from the inside out. My own hands just weren't doing it, though, and I was well on my way to losing my mind when someone else touched me.
I screamed, and lashed out with my fist on pure reflex, but cool fingers caught my wrist before I could land a blow. I opened my eyes to find Loki staring down at me, with an expression I couldn't have deciphered even if I'd been anywhere near properly coherent. "What the–"
He rested one long finger against my lips, shushing me, his other hand twining in my hair. What the hell was he doing here? He didn't know me from Adam, or so I'd thought. I don't exactly have a memorable face. Yes, I've got scars running up and down my arms, and a nasty one across my forehead, but hardly anyone in our makeshift community isn't scarred in some way.
"Hush," he said, his hand leaving my hair and traveling down the line of my neck. I let out an unabashed moan, the first time in my life I'd ever made such a sound. His hand was wonderfully cool, his skin inhumanly smooth, and his fingers left jolts of pure, electric need wherever they touched.
I still had enough of my mind left to be somewhat ashamed, but I couldn't have drawn away to save my life. This whole situation rendered me vulnerable in a way I'd always avoided, and however aroused I was, it terrified me. There was a reason I'd run; I didn't care how unbearably horny I was, I wasn't going to get used by somebody just looking to get off. Did that make any sense under the circumstances? No. But then, nothing did.
Loki pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips as cool as his hands, and it eased my panic even as it made my body literally ache with need. "You can't take care of this by yourself," he said, the words a faint exhalation across my skin. "You would die. And I do not trust anyone else to take care of you."
He drew back, just enough for me to stare at him in near total incomprehension. His eyes were dilated until only a thin ring of green remained, a pale flush across his face, and my beleaguered brain realized I wasn't the only one almost too horny for sanity. Just why he'd sought me out didn't matter at all, not then.
Now, just because I'm not into sex doesn't mean I've never had it. I know how to kiss – or at least, I'd thought I did, until he tilted my chin up and caught my lips with his. I grabbed the leather of his armor on total instinct as he traced his tongue over my upper lip, asking silent permission, and my knees damn near gave out from under me when I opened my mouth and kissed him with a greed I never would have imagined myself capable of. He tasted like some spice I couldn't name, rich and addictive, and I'll admit I straight-up whimpered when he bit lightly at my lower lip.
At some point he'd backed me up against the wall, lifting me up and easing his thigh between my legs. I dimly registered that he was stripping his armor even as he kissed me, his mouth traveling along my jaw when I started gasping for air. He was licking and sucking and biting, and I wound my fingers into his silky black hair, hanging on for dear life. He smelled like leather and clean skin and Loki, and I was drowning in it, lightheaded, my fingers scratching along his scalp. He sucked at my skin almost hard enough to hurt, but soothed each nip of his teeth with a soft, teasing flick of his tongue. It had me writhing against him, my hands traveling over every expanse of his skin I could reach, the whole focus of my world narrowed down until it was filled with nothing but him.
I think I actually greyed out for a moment, because I had no idea when or how he'd got rid of what remained of his clothes. Suddenly all that remained between us was my bra and my underwear, and when he lowered me down to my bed, I froze. I was shivering with primitive, visceral need, but I suddenly remembered just how many scars I had, marks that my clothing normally hid. Loki's skin was damn near flawless, smooth and pale where mine was coarse and sunburned, and I wondered suddenly what he was doing here with me, what was in this for him.
He must have sensed that, because he stilled, brushing the sweat-dampened hair back from my forehead. His eyes were so deep, lust-darkened, his entire body strung taut with desire, yet he paused. Those long white fingers traced down my temple, light along my cheek until they reached the line of my jaw, and I shivered.
"Trust me," he said quietly, and I was so far out of my mind that I did. I couldn't help it. He slowed things down, though I could feel the tension in his back when I smoothed my hands along it, lean muscle shifting as he reached for my bra.
I jumped when his tongue touched one of the long scars that started just beneath my
collarbone, tracing the long line of it down my sternum. My hands groped blindly for his
hair, wanting to grab onto something, but he caught my wrists and pinned them to the mattress. His teeth and his tongue had me arching helplessly, wrapping my legs around his back without thinking. It made him groan against my skin, and I felt a sudden, dizzying surge of power. I'd made Loki groan, made his composure slip, however briefly and faintly.
I felt him grin against my stomach, and I wondered if he'd read my mind. He released my wrists and pulled away my underwear, and he didn't leave me any time to panic: his fingers closed hard around my waist, and his wicked tongue lapped at my clit. I'd never understood the appeal of oral sex, but dear God, I did now. Loki's hands were cool, but his mouth was torturously warm. I admit it, I yelped, and the bastard laughed before he tormented me with a single long, slow lick. If I'd had my way at that moment, I'd have shoved him beneath me and fucked him like an animal, consequences be damned, but Loki knew better than I did.
"When did you last do this?" he asked, raising his head to look at me, and I could feel a blush traveling all the way to my navel. Which was kind of silly, considering the man had just had his face between my legs.
"Five years ago," I admitted, a little breathlessly. And I didn't see the point then. It hadn't been unpleasant or anything, but I hadn't gotten anything out of it, either. If this was what sex was like for normal people, I didn't wonder why so many seemed so obsessed with it.
"Then be patient," he chided me. "I don't want to hurt you." He had his fingers in me before I could so much as speak, and what was going to be a protest came out in a moan that would embarrass the hell out of me later. His pace was languorous, his tongue flicking my clit in rhythm with his fingers, and I couldn't help but squirm, wishing he would get on with it. I was sure I was going to die of frustration if he didn't.
"Jesus, Loki, you're killing me here," I managed, and damn it, the words came out a whimper. "Just–"
He cut me off with a laugh, and twisted his fingers in a way that made my entire body seize up, drowning me in ecstasy so intense I couldn't even scream. The edges of my vision actually went dark for a moment, and I knew now what people meant, when they said they saw stars when they came. And just when I started to come down from it, he curled his fingers again, launching me straight back into pleasure so all-consuming it left me dizzy. Idid scream then, words that were completely incoherent even to me.
I was trying (and totally failing) to breathe properly when he crept up the bed beside me, tilting my head back and placing slow, almost lazy kisses along my neck. My entire body felt like it was made of rubber, pliant and boneless, but my heart was pounding so hard I thought it must be bruising against my ribs. I wasn't sure what he expected me to do now, but whatever it was, it would have to wait until I was able to actually move.
At first I didn't realize what I was doing, when I reached up and ran my hand along his shoulder, down his arm and back up again. Loose-limbed and tingly though I was, my first instinct was to touch him. His calm, unhurried kisses gave me a chance to get my pulse and my breathing under control, before I could pass out from a total lack of oxygen, and it gave me a chance to do a little exploration of my own.
I'd always thought Loki had great hair, and I'll admit, I'd wanted to run my fingers through it once or twice. Now I finally had the chance, and I traced the shell of his ear while I did it. It actually made him purr, and again I felt an unexpected jolt of power. Even when he was totally furious, Loki had always seemed so controlled, but my little touches were fracturing his composure. It gave me confidence I wouldn't have had, otherwise.
I nudged his shoulder, and he got the message at once, rolling onto his back. Even through my post-orgasm haze, I realized just how self-satisfied his smirk was, but I was in no condition to resent it. I was too busy being fascinated by the smooth skin under my hands – he wasn't cool now. He felt almost feverish beneath my fingertips, and he smelled so goddamn good I leaned down and tasted the hollow of his throat. One lick, two, and then I gave in and started sucking on his neck, greedy as a starving woman.
He jerked beneath me, gasping, and now it was my turn to grin. I'd never had this kind of power over anyone, and I thought I could get used to it. When his hands came up to grasp my hair, I took them both in my own and pinned them back to the bed. Of course he was letting me, because there was no way in hell I could have kept him down if he didn't want me to. I was and am strong for my size, but I'm still over a foot shorter than him.
I gave his sternum an experimental lick, and wondered if there was something else I should be doing, anything someone more experienced than me would know to do. Loki didn't seem to mind how clumsy my investigation was, though, and he purred again when I let go of his wrists and ran my hands up his arms. His entire body was literally shaking, and I realized he was hanging onto his control by a thread.
"Go on," I said, levering myself up enough to give him a light kiss. "I trust you." And, almost scarily, I really did. Loki could be downright terrifying at times, but I knew he wasn't going to hurt me.
Something seemed to snap inside him, and before I could blink he'd flipped me onto my back, his mouth attacking mine with a passion that bordered on ferocious. All I could do was hang on for dear life, my fingers digging into his shoulders. Somehow, he'd driven my arousal back to an intensity that was almost unbearable, but it wasn't enough to keep a faint stab of panic from my brain. Yes, I needed him like I needed to breathe, but he was looming over me and pinning me down, and it stirred my sense of claustrophobia.
And somehow, without needing to ask, he knew. He sat up, pulling me with him, his arms wrapping around my back to anchor me against him, never once breaking our kiss. Goodbye claustrophobia, hello brain-destroying lust. One of his hands fisted in my hair, pulling my head back so he could work his tongue and his teeth against my throat. Man had a damn fetish for my neck.
"Relax," he said, smoothing his hands up and down my back. It seemed like an impossible order, but I tried anyway. "It will make this easier."
He'd positioned himself at my entrance, I realized, and I froze again, for an entirely different reason. "If you knock me up, I'm going to be seriously pissed," I gasped.
His quiet laugh reverberated through my chest. "I won't," he promised, and sank himself into me, centimeter by deliciously agonizing centimeter.
I'd figured it would hurt, having been so long since I'd last had sex, and I was right. It didn't help that Loki was a lot more well-endowed than my last partner, and I had to bite my lip against a hiss of pain. Loki groaned once he was fully inside me, but he went still, giving my body a chance to adjust. He grabbed my hair again, this time tilting my head up so he could kiss me, and it was almost savage with need. He wanted me – me. For whatever reason, he'd actively sought me out, and that thought made me shift my hips against him. I was going to be sore as hell tomorrow, but if he didn't fuck me now, I was sure I'd die.
He answered my movement with one slow, smooth thrust. It still hurt a little, but the pain was overridden by a jolt of pleasure that shot through my entire body like lightning. I arched against him, letting out a sound I'm sure was a whimper, and his next thrust wasn't quite so gentle. The lingering pain somehow made the pleasure even sharper, and I ground myself down on him totally shamelessly.
What little control he'd retained seemed to vanish with that movement. It was hard and fast, his length hitting places inside me I hadn't known existed, places that made me jerk and gasp into his mouth. I was clawing at his shoulders so hard I drew blood, but that only seemed to spur him on.
My orgasm hit like a meteor strike, so sudden and intense that I halfway blacked out again. I sank my teeth into Loki's shoulder, muffling my scream against his sweat-salty skin, but he wasn't done yet. His arms locked around me, holding me flush against his chest. His heart was pounding beneath my ear, his breath a harsh rasp, and I had enough wherewithal left to nip at his collarbone.
That did it for him. His thrusting became erratic, his fingers gripping me so tightly I was sure he left bruises, and he let out a gasping, breathless groan as he spent himself inside me.
I watched him with dazed fascination, as his head fell back and his eyes drifted shut. This was the most vulnerable I'd ever seen him – probably the most vulnerable anyone had ever seen him.
He collapsed onto the bed, lying on his back and gripping me like he thought I'd disappear if he let go. I rested my head on his chest, still listening to the pounding of his heart, and for a long while we lay in the darkness, listening to one another breathe. What little of my logical brain remained tried to remind me that Loki was dangerous, that he could probably break me in half with his pinky, but for now at least I felt safe with him. I didn't know why he'd sought me out, I didn't know what it was he might want from me, but just then, I really didn't care.
His fingers traced one of the long, jagged scars on my arm. Most of the ones on my arms came from broken glass, from the shattered window of a bombed building. (Safety glass, my ass.) I'd stopped being too self-conscious about them a long time ago, but I knew they were far from attractive. Most hadn't been properly sutured, so they were wide and deep, pale against my sunburn. Part of me wanted to flinch when Loki touched it, but he drew my arm up and gave it a light, soft lick.
"They're beautiful," he said, the fingers of his other hand curling in my sweat-damp hair. "You are beautiful. And you are mine."
I knew the possessiveness in his voice should either offend me, worry me, or both, but the man had just literally fucked me almost senseless. I'd freak out about it later, once I was coherent enough for the implications to totally sink in.
To this day, I don't really know why Loki decided to fixate on me, and only on me. Plenty of others have tried to catch his attention, women and men, but I'm the one he's claimed. (And trust me, the idea of being 'claimed' did not make me happy at first, but that's just how Loki works. You've got to learn to ignore it.) Whenever I've asked him, he just gives me his maddening little Loki-smirk, and says he's waiting for me to figure it out. I haven't yet, but I've become very good at wiping that smirk off his face.
