Okay- seriously—while reading this, listen to I (Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight cover by Bastille. Because I was listening to that while writing, and OMFG! And maybe Thinking of You by A Perfect Circle. Dissolved Girl by Massive Attack (totally a Darcy x Loki song).

Sing So Sweetly

Part II

Darcy didn't know if she was relieved or angry when she heard the squeak of the loose floorboard in her room's entrance. So he just wandered in behind her? She wasn't sure what to make of the fact that she kind of liked that he had.

"Why did you—?"

"You walked away in mid-conversation." He feigned a thoughtful frown when she turned to face him. "Did you not wish to continue talking?"

Her mouth dropped open, but she really couldn't seem to come up with an answer. Was he asking if she didn't want to continue their conversation, or saying he thought she wanted to do more than talk? God, her face felt like it was on fire.

His frown faded as he stepped closer, his gaze locked on hers. "Again, with that lovely color in your cheeks."

She swallowed hard, but only started back at him as he lifted a hand, brushing her jaw with the backs of his fingers.

"So very, very . . . inviting."

Darcy's brows arched upward as she scrambled for something to say. Again, he stood so close—she thought if she inhaled too deeply, her body would press fleetingly to his.

"You . . . you think I'm inviting you?"

She hadn't pushed him away, hadn't said a single word to the contrary. Even the dainty hand which held her towel in place had slackened its grip.

One perfect, jet eyebrow flicked upward for the quickest second as he asked, "Are you not?"

Again, as she stared up at him—Jesus, she thought for sure the way he was looking at her could melt an iceberg—unable to find a response. The hand at her jaw slid down the side of her throat and hovered there as he awaited her answer.

As the silence between them continued, Loki couldn't help a smirk. There was something so utterly wonderful in the idea that he'd stifled her ability to think simply by holding her gaze.

"If you wish me to go, you need simply say."

Darcy knew she probably shouldn't do what she was about to, but she also knew she'd probably regret it in the morning if she sent him away. True, most people regretted the other way around, but she wasn't most people. And she couldn't remember how long it'd been.

And, really? When might she get a chance with someone like him, again?

Flicking the tip of her tongue out to moisten her lips—and delighting when his attention wavered for the briefest moment to watch—she accidentally lost her grip on the towel.

Those green eyes clouded a bit, but they remained on her face.

"Oops," she said, sparing a moment to bite her lip in a feigned expression of innocence. "I seem to have dropped my towel."

One corner of his mouth pinched upward in a wicked half-grin as he slid his hand around the back of her neck. "Shall I retrieve it for you?"

She shook her head. "Don't even think about it."

He pulled her to him, his mouth crashing down on hers. Darcy let out a whimper as his tongue thrust between her lips. His clothing—all thick fabric and stiff angles—scraped at her bare skin.

His hands wandered, stroking her shoulders, the length of her arms, the contours of her back as her fingers scrambled over him, trying to find the edges of his attire. Frustrated, she broke the kiss, speaking against his lips in hissed syllables.

"Seriously? What is wrong with Asgardian clothing?"

A rich chuckle bubbled out of him as he cupped her face with both hands, kissing her again before responding. "Not to worry." With a snap of his fingers, he was as bare as she.

Pulling back, her eyelids fluttered in rapid blinks as she looked from him, to the pile of clothes on the floor beside him, and back. "What? How did you—?"

He winked, adoring the way she so obviously fought to maintain eye-contact, rather than letting her gaze wander over his naked form. "We all have our little talents."

Darcy nodded as she slid her arms around his neck. "Here's to hoping you have a few more."

She wasn't quite sure how they made it to the bed so fast—though she clearly remembered him grabbing her ass and lifting her to wrap her legs around him. He hadn't entered her yet, instead circling his hips to press against her teasingly again and again as he carried her across the room.

Loki lowered to his knees, extracting her from him to sit her upon the edge of the mattress. Holding her gaze, he moved back, watching her expression as he trailed his fingers down, over her breasts—stopping to circle the edges of his nails around her nipples—and lower, over her abdomen.

She uttered an unhappy groan as he deviated from course, tickling his fingers over her hips. When he smirked at her show of disappointment, she tried to grab his hand.

He moved just out of her reach, chuckling at her eagerness.

Those blue eyes narrowed at him. "You're kind of an ass."

"Only kind of?" His eyebrows drew upward. "Clearly, I have been slacking."

When she dropped her hand back to her side, he moved forward again, drawing the tips of his fingers along the inside of her thighs. Once more holding her gaze, watching her face, he parted soft, slick skin with one hand. He rubbed over her clit with the fingers of his other hand, smiling when her eyelids drifted downward and her head tipped back.

She rocked her hips against his fingers, moaning softly when he slid the hand that had held her parted inside her.

He couldn't help a shudder that ran through him at the feel of her body clenching, warm and tight, around his fingers. Loki was relatively certain he'd had better control, once upon a time, but now all he could think of was—

Darcy scooted back, suddenly, out of his reach.

He blinked rapidly as he watched her movement, confused. Until she climbed onto the bed and turned, getting onto her hands and knees.

She looked back at him. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed, full lips parted beautifully. "Sorry," she said in husky whisper. "Foreplay is taking too long."

He stood, his gaze moving from hers to the oh, so tempting bit of her that awaited his attention. "Normally I would disagree, but at this moment, you are a woman after my own heart."

Climbing onto the bed behind her, he positioned himself with one hand as he grasped her hip with the other. Once more she made that delightful pleading whimper—as she had when he'd kissed her—as he pushed only the head of his cock inside her.

"I do like that sound," he said, still holding himself there, amused at the impatient tremor that shook through her.

"I will make any sound you want if you stop stalling!"

With a wicked, satisfied grin, he reached forward, curling one hand into a fist in the hair at the back of her head as he thrust forward, burying himself inside her.

"Oh, God," she said as she shuddered, arching her back to lift her hips for him.

"I could stand to hear that a few more times, I think."

Darcy started to laugh, but the sound was cut off as he withdrew almost entirely and rocked forward. She clenched her teeth, an ecstatic scream tearing out of her.

He slammed into her again, and again, delighting in the noises she made, in the way she tried to push back against his thrusts, even as he held her immobile. She shuddered beneath him and he noticed the sight of her elbow jerking, poking out from under her body and then disappearing, once more—over and over.

His teeth sank into his bottom lip as he realized what she was doing. Slipping the hand at her hip around her body, he covered her stroking fingers with his own. He moved them faster, pressed them just a bit more tightly against her, and she trembled, another moan tearing from her lips.

"I do not recall . . . saying you could do that," he said in a low, mirthful whisper.

She answered between little, hiccupping sounds of pleasure. "I don't recall asking your permission."

He caught her off-guard, then, relinquishing his hold on her and withdrawing, entirely. Before she could react, he scooped her up and turned her over, laying her on her back.

Holding her gaze, he held her parted and lowered his face, burying his mouth between her thighs. Darcy cried out, gripping her fingers into his hair, but fought to keep her eyes open, watching him as he watched her.

She'd never known any guy to do this in the middle!

He sealed his lips around her clit, the tip of his tongue flicking and swirling so fast it seemed to pulse against her.

"Oh, God," she said, again, practically screaming the words.

There was a rumbling sensation as Loki paused in his ministrations long enough to chuckle against her. He thrust his fingers into her, the motions of his hand slow, and measured—a maddening contrast to the rapid pulses of his tongue.

She wondered—for all of a second—if he was trying to drive her insane. His mouth worked faster, still, and she was tensing under him.

Pulling away, again, he laughed wickedly at her anguished groan. "Oh, no, no, no, my dear. Not yet."

He crawled over her and she responded automatically, hooking her legs around his hips. Oh, he liked this one—perhaps he'd keep her. Loki thrust into her, once more adoring the way she screamed at his entry.

Straightening his back, he rolled his hips, rocking forward, and withdrawing from her at a frenzied pace. He slipped a hand down, his thumb sliding against slick skin to stroke over her clit, in time with his deep, hard strokes.

She surprised him, yet again, her hands moving to cup her breasts as she stared up at him. He watched, fascinated even as he continued moving into her, while she kneaded the rounded flesh, every so often pinching and circling her nipples teasingly.

Once more, he felt her tense against him. This time, he quickened his pace, his thrusts sharpening to accommodate her.

Darcy threw her head back, curling her body so she lifted her hips, meeting his thrusts as the orgasm crashed over her. She didn't even care that she was mindlessly mingling shouting his name with her cries of oh, God, oh, God!

Her body clenched around his cock—such a pleasantly sweet feeling that a tremor shook through his muscles—and he grinned as he listened to her words.

As it ebbed, she started rocking, working herself around him and he let out a surprised breath. She liked that she'd caught him off-guard.

Recognizing the sudden glimmer in her drowsy-lidded eyes as one of mischief, Loki clamped his hands over her hips, holding her to him. He rolled onto his back, using his grip on her to force her into motion.

She leaned back, bracing her palms on his thighs as she rocked over him. Much to her delight, he was clenching his teeth, his breath coming out in harsh little grunts as he lifted his hips from the bed, thrusting up into her, meeting her motions.

Finally he stilled in one last, hard thrust. Darcy bit her lip, her nails digging into his skin as she rocked forward and back over him, so his cock moved into her and withdrew again and again as he came.

A shiver wracked him and she slowed by increments, until he was spent, entirely.

She pulled back, slowly, letting him slip from her, before she turned and fell beside him on the bed, catching her breath.

"Holy shit, that was amazing," she said in a breathless whisper.

Loki laughed, grinning wickedly at the ceiling. Oh, yes, keeping her was very likely.

Jane frowned as she walked toward the rustling in the kitchen, tugging Thor along behind her, by virtue of their linked hands. Sure, if he didn't want to follow, it was hardly as though she could budge him, but he didn't usually fight her on things like this. They'd gotten home rather late, she'd thought for sure Darcy would be asleep, by now.

"Darcy? Hey, we brought home leftovers. Do you want—?" The words died on her lips at the sight of Thor's brother in their kitchen . . . wearing nothing but a loosely-slung bath towel around his hips.

"Oh, sorry. Did not mean to startle you," he said with a charming grin.

Thor's wide brow furrowed as he met his brother's gaze over the top of Jane's head. "What are you doing here so late?"

Jane whirled to look up at him. "You're kidding, right? He's standing in our kitchen, practically naked, and that's your question?" She turned back to gape at Loki.

Before she could ask anything, herself, the dark-haired man shrugged. "Sorry, seems I left Darcy a bit parched." He waved the bottle he'd just retrieved from the fridge. "She asked me to fetch her some water." He offered another grin as he winked. "Her legs were feeling a bit weak at the moment."

Her jaw dropping, Jane took an angry step forward, ready to let loose a string of scathing words at the mischievous being.

"Hey, Loki?" Darcy's lazy voice drifted through the small apartment, from the open door of her bedroom. "Where'd you learn to do that thing with your tongue?"

Jane and Thor exchanged a horrified glance as Loki shook his head, chuckling.

"We're just gonna . . . step right back outside for a bit, it-it's . . . ."

"Yes, it is not really that late, after all." Thor rescued Jane from her stammering. "Perhaps a walk?"

She nodded, spinning around to start for the front door.

Chuckling again, Loki started singing quietly as he strode toward the corridor that led to the bedrooms.

Jane paused mid-stride as she heard him. Glancing at Thor over her shoulder, she said, "He can sing?"

Thor winced, shaking his head as he gently pushed her back into step. "Just keep walking."