Prompt: I would like to put in a request for a fanfic between Loki and an anonymous person that should only be referred to as agent smith in the text. The setting should be in first person POV of agent smith as she goes to check up on Loki who is currently in the glass cage. She should be taunting him relentlessly in an effort to get some answers out of him. Loki should remain pretty much emotionless but once she starts undressing have him do the punching against the cage like he did with black widow.
Author's Note: The requester, who prefers anonymity, also confirmed that she would like this to be in present-tense and that she wants Agent Smith to make come-hither gestures at a certain point in the story. Additionally, the requester would enjoy domination in her real life, which is why I employed it here. I'm not trying to spoil it for you; just giving credit where it's due. I ain't gonna claim shit that isn't mine. Okay, now here's the exciting part…in more ways than one. ;)
The last image I see before I begin this small assignment is my reflection in the shiny surface of the double doors, my pale face expressionless, a woman in a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, hair pulled back, nothing about her indicative of the newly-active adrenaline in her system.
The doors swiftly slide open without hesitation, and as I take my first black-booted step into the room beyond it, my eyebrows arch almost instantly as I'm taken aback by the sight in front of me, which gives me a strange tingling sensation.
This is definitely not what I'd anticipated.
He's a tall man, dressed from head to toe in black leather, including his rather lengthy coat, which is lined on the inside with forest green. The latter color accents stripes of fabric every so often along his strong-looking arms. The ends of those are encased in dull gold vambraces, matching the cap on one side of the heavy-looking protective wear he bears on his shoulders. The shoulder cap houses a leather strap that lies diagonally across his lean torso, appearing to hold the nondescript black armor in place. His long legs are also clothed in the dark leather, which makes up his boots, as well. Altogether, a very complex and intriguing outfit, which suits him very well…
However, I can't focus my attention on his clothes for very long.
"I'm assuming you're here for more than just a simple chat," he says matter-of-factly.
Oh, my god.
His voice is like none I've ever heard, simultaneously powerful and quiet, rich and velvety like chocolate, yet firm and formidable as a temple stone. I have to fight a shudder from the chills it gives me, but I'm soon distracted when my eyes flick upwards to the source of the noise. The face upon which they alight surprises me, to say the least. Being employed at a government agency, I see many faces with each passing day. Now, though, I have no doubts that this is the most beautiful face I've ever seen. The prominent cheek bones, the symmetry, the pale tone, the blue eyes, the statuesque structure framed by a jet-black hairline, the shoulder-length locks combed back and curved up at their ends. Wow.
After the two short seconds I use to absorb his face, I reply.
"Yes," I say simply as I move my right foot in front of my left one again to continue my approach, disguising the effects of my first impression in a neutral tone. "You assume correctly." My left hand momentarily tightens a bit on its manila file folder. I swallow to remoisten my mouth, made dry by his impressive physique. Well, this is off to a great start, I think wryly to myself. Attracted to the enemy. What else can go wrong?
He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head back ever so slightly, taking an initial step towards the glass that separates us. "Do I detect a hint of fear, Agent…?"
I furrow my brow, annoyed at his assumption. "Smith," I reply irritably, "and no, that wasn't out of fear. I just don't want my mouth dry while I interrogate you." My assertive candor seems to surprise him a bit…or is that skepticism? His stunning features are arranged in a nondescript expression, a puzzle that would take a bit of time to solve…not that I'd mind looking at his face for an extended period of time.
"Interrogate me?" he says, not sounding the least bit concerned as he walks forward in my general direction, his elegant form moving effortlessly. "You really think you have the power to extract anything from me?"
My eyes narrow at that, despite his magnificent beauty. At S.H.I.E.L.D., we're trained to remain emotionally stable during tasks like this, but something about his arrogant tone agitates me.
"Let's think," I retort, infusing the phrase with sarcasm before I can stop myself, letting pride overcome protocol. "You're behind impenetrable glass," I continue, punctuating my words with the unopened file as I pace slowly to the right, "and I'm free to walk anywhere I want, press any button I please, and use any method I see fit to extract what I need."
You, on the other hand," I say, changing my direction and looking him square in the eye, trying not to falter as my own eyes are once again confronted with his angelic face and exquisite form, "have to stand there and suffer the consequences of your actions whether you like it or not."
I'm surprised and a bit impressed with myself by the superiority and power my words hold. Sure, I speak with authority quite often when there's a problem to be solved, but now, I actually hold it.
I don't have a lot of time to relish the feeling, though.
"Ah, but you see," he replies, seemingly unfazed by my speech, "that is where you're mistaken." That voice of his, his face, physique, his perfectly sculpted hands, those intense eyes… have an effect I have never experienced when dealing with an antagonist, such that I almost miss him calling me out. I feel my heartbeat quicken, and I try not to imagine him without all that leather and to refocus my attention. Now is not the time for such things.
His head is tilted back again as he looks down at me through the glass from the few inches that compose our height difference. "Suffering is something one chooses to do, and a Midgardian such as yourself has no real power to force another mind to make a choice. Even if you did have a method of compelling a fellow human to react in the way you'd prefer, I highly doubt that it would have any effect on my mind whatsoever."
"And what, pray, would make you so different from all other humans in that case?" I counter assertively, pushing away my pleasant reaction to his linguistic skills as I try to keep my face as smoothly superior as his; he betrays no emotion as he arches his brow at me again.
"Perhaps you haven't heard of me," he suggests smugly, as though any normal "Midgardian", which seems to be his terminology for "human", would be knowledgeable of his existence. He doesn't wait for a reply. "I am Loki, God of Mischief."
I barely register the end of the introduction as his name drops into my stomach like a stone. He'd sounded almost bored by it, as though the positive effect of declaring himself had been waning. I, however, recognize that name with a sudden shock.
"Burdened with glorious purpose," I mutter half to myself as I remember the words I'd overheard from a coworker's computer. That news reel, which I'd succeeded in tuning out for the most part, had been replayed multiple times for the analysts working with the enemy's words from the night the chaos began. How could I have not made the connection? That's what I get for minding my own business, I think to myself bitterly before I return to the present. "So that's what everyone's been talking about."
He lets out a low, toneless laugh. "You certainly catch on quickly."
I look back up into his eyes and, trying not to let the fucking blueness of them sway my countenance, I respond curtly, "I do. And if you're as responsive and forthcoming as that to my subsequent questions, this shouldn't be too much of a challenge for either of us."
With that, I open my file (very glad for the diversion) and skim over the list of information Fury seems to think we need. I groan inwardly. How the hell am I going to get all that out of him? I then remember that two others are assigned to the same task, but before I can let myself be comforted by that, I recall that the next person's turn is six hours away. At the crack of dawn. Crap.
"I anticipate no challenge," Loki says coolly, distracting me from my irritation. "I have strengths beyond the likes of which you can even begin to comprehend."
I give him a dirty look, battling with my aggravation at the arrogant words that keep coming out of his mouth and my attraction to his…everything. Loki's face remains blank, which, despite its ethereal beauty, is starting to unnerve me a little. Does this guy have any weaknesses whatsoever?
My eyes widen at the sudden inspiration. That could be one way to approach it. Find a weak spot. It won't be easy, but it's the only idea I've got, and, quite frankly, I want to get this over with as soon as my efforts will allow. I dive right in, closing the file and tossing it onto a nearby table and trying as best I can to ignore my hormonal response to the god. It's go time.
"So anything at all we try, you won't give in?" I ask, turning back to Loki, my brow raised skeptically. "There's nothing you gods fear? At all?"
"Fear?" Loki says, mirroring my cynical tone. "Anything and everything Asgardians fear resides elsewhere, and I can assure you that Midgard is definitely not something that poses a threat to our population, let alone the rest of the Nine Realms."
"So you fear your population being destroyed," I reply, forming my facial features into an expression of cunning when behind that, I don't have a fucking clue how helpful my deductions will be.
"Please tell me you're appealing to my humanity," Loki responds sarcastically, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, looking weary and bored, but no less attractive. No. Bad agent.
I snap back to reality after the wasted second. Only a few minutes into the interrogation, and already I've hit a dead—wait a minute!
"So what you mean to tell me," I start slowly, deciding to throw all caution to the winds, the thrill of taking risks displacing any hint of attraction I'd felt, "that the great Loki of Asgard has Midgardian tendencies?"
That hits a nerve. His head sharply turns back to me, and I know I'm headed in the right direction. Before he can deny it, I add a little more fuel to the fire.
"I never would have guessed," I say mockingly, exaggerating my facial expressions as well as my words. "I mean, here you are, this powerful god who fucked up Stuttgart with means beyond our Midgardian methods, and you have human feelings?"
"There is a difference between feelings and tendencies, foolish girl," says Loki, the subtlest hint of anger coming through his words as his eyes narrow at me.
"Then which is it?" I say, ignoring the attempted insult as I take a step closer to the cage, enjoying this adrenaline rush immensely. "Feelings, or tendencies?"
I can tell I have him backed into a corner from the hesitation he takes, even though he's returned to a neutral countenance. I decide to push the envelope.
"Well?" I say forcefully, expectantly.
He responds swiftly, as though nothing within him had been provoked at all. "Every species has similarities when it comes to survival instincts. Throughout all Nine Realms, that doesn't change. Naturally, threats to the survival of others of one's own kind give cause for anxiety, which is what makes you Midgardians so weak. Asgard, on the other hand, is much more powerful; therefore, we have less to fear."
"Yet fear still presents itself, doesn't it?" I respond shrewdly.
Loki scoffs. "Only within those of us who have something to fear, something to lose," he replies.
"Yet you still haven't answered my question, God of Mischief," I retort caustically, pissed that he seems to have an answer for everything I throw at him. "Which does the great and powerful Loki harbor?" I ask, narrowing my eyes and lifting my chin, staring him down. Our faces are a foot away, separated only by air and thick glass. Something about the proximity of myself to the now undeniably sexy Loki with his glorious fucking purpose is bringing my other hormones back to the surface.
I can't let this distract me now. I press on, trying the push down the feelings that ruthlessly continue to rise. "Is it human emotions? Or human aptitudes?" When he doesn't respond, I continue my needling.
"Or is it a combination of the two? You react to your humanoid emotions the same way us Midgardians do. Is that why you dislike us so much? Such a superior being, Loki, yet you can't bring yourself to face the truth that you are no better than the rest of us."
"I will make this very clear, you mewling quim," he begins dangerously, eyes flashing. Even though I don't quite understand the insult, I glare right back at him with a force I wouldn't be able to muster if he were outside his cell, hoping that my aggressive gaze is enough to conceal from him the feeling beginning to permeate my abdomen. "You have no idea the power you are dealing with. That much is certain. If you had any clue as to what you were doing, you would have known that Asgard came before Midgard. The difference between the two is that has while you pitiful humans wallow in your feelings and tendencies, Asgard possesses the knowledge and skill to overcome them for the greater good."
"Yet you're in there, and I'm out here," I taunt, lowering my voice to match his volume level. "What does that make you?" Burn.
I see the anger flit across his features for one short second. I have him right where I want him. Almost. What?
"Someone with unlimited time to utilize his very potent intelligence while you humans fight to control your anger, hatred, despair, try to continue your population while becoming befuddled in your attempts figure the simple difference between love and lust"— here I feel a ripple through my solar plexus—"and study your own brains rather than progressing by emulating the actions of the strong. Soon you will learn to follow in the footsteps of your superiors, and only then will you know peace."
I raise my eyebrows skeptically, making it appear as though I'm considering him to buy myself time to figure that one out. I can feel my unmistakable arousal growing stronger by the second.I exhale sharply to rid myself of this intoxication. Focus.
If I accuse him of anger, he'll deny it. Hatred, he doesn't deny, and discussing that simple fact would only send us in circles. Despair, he's clearly enjoying that effect as our human reaction, so that doesn't look like much of a weak spot. Love: if he's moved by the love we have for the people he's murdered, he certainly isn't showing it. That leaves one last option. One last human quality Loki mentioned that he apparently deems weak: lust.
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. The logical section of my brain tries to fight the sudden rush of estrogen, but it's no use. The sexual excitement I'd attempted to keep controlled was now rushing out of a now unhinged floodgate. And as my eyes return to the god with his magnificent physique, his strikingly gorgeous face, and the look of him that silently screams "sex", my body makes up my mind for me before my reasonable inner voice can even begin to speak. My original purpose here slips away from my mind—or, really, falls off a mental cliff like a ton of bricks—as I forget about Fury, the interrogation, and the fact that this is Loki, who'd caused the destruction I was working to analyze. These factors and their importance combust to useless ashes as the fire inside me takes over.
"Lust, huh?" I say, fighting to keep my voice even as I cross my arms over my chest, augmenting my bust and cleavage. I see his eyes flicker to that area for a half a second before they return to my now-flushed face. That makes my lower region throb and begin to warm as my heart accelerates.
Loki seems to notice a subtle change in my disposition, but is hidden once again behind his blank countenance. "What of it?" he asks, his voice implying no knowledge of my current state. But I know better, and I'm not about to let him get away with it.
"You know the feeling, do you not?" I reiterate slowly, my voice lowering in a way that turns me on even more. I want that reaction of his. And I want it now.
"Would I have mentioned it if we didn't?" he counters calmly.
I pause for effect. "That's not really what I asked you," I say in a soft, dangerous voice, lowering my head a bit. "I want to know if you know the feeling, not the rest of Asgard. You. Loki."
"Everyone in the Nine Realms must feel it at some point in their lives," he replies noncommittally, though his voice sounds less…confident than it did, and his eyes glance away and back again. I smile inwardly, knowing that I can have this effect on him, knowing I can make it stronger.
"Maybe you need a little prompting, Loki," I say. Before he can ask what I mean by that, I reach behind my head without hesitation, my arousal the sole factor driving my actions now, and pull out the elastics holding my hair back, letting it fall behind my neck and dropping the bands to the ground.
I shake my head, causing my hair to fall a bit more and spread out.
"What exactly—?" he starts, but I hold up my right hand to stop him and I say sharply, "I believe I asked you first. Answer me, God of Mischief. Yes or no?"
The fun of this is that I don't give a shit about his answer. I can see his frustration build as he tries to suppress it, his lips folding in on each other and emerging tightly, those eyes glaring out at me.
"Not complying today, are we?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. His eyes widen the subtlest bit at the newly-exposed pale skin of my neck after my hair unveils it, the unmarked flesh, and I can see the hunger in him as he fights to control it. Loki is losing his grip. And I'm enjoying it. Immensely.
"Let's assume for a second that your silence means 'yes'," I tell him bluntly, my fingers moving to the front of my suit. My heart makes no attempt to slow as I deliberately take much longer than necessary pulling the zipper down. I can feel myself getting wetter as it makes its descent. When it passes my chest and gives way to the black lace separating his eyes from my breasts, he breaks.
Loki's vambraced forearm suddenly collides with the glass with a resounding boom loud enough to wake the dead. I jump slightly, the fresh burst of adrenaline at the sound quickly melding with my arousal, making my nether region throb again and sending a wave of warmth to my neck.
He pants with bared teeth, and how I want those teeth on my neck, on my shoulders, my breasts…
"As I told you before, mortal," he seethes menacingly in that voice of his that I now so desperately crave to hear making wordless moans, "you have no idea the magnitude of what you're dealing with."
"That's where you're mistaken," I reply deviously, using his earlier words as I look pointedly at the growing leather bulge between his legs with a wicked grin.
Loki realizes where my eyes are, and as he quickly meets the subject of my gaze, I use the opportunity to unzip my suit further, keeping my eyes on him.
His face flushes slightly as he puts an elegant hand over what I really do want to deal with, but as he snaps back to my face to glare at me, the newly exposed skin stops him dead in his optical tracks. Those intense eyes fixate to the small hint of the black lace that comprises my panties, the topmost edge of them peeking out right above where the zipper has finished its journey. Seeing him look at that increases my natural moisture, and I can see the unmasked lust in his eyes.
I relish this effect and decide to tease him a bit more. I opt to remove my boots and the fabric underneath them, arching my back and keeping my chest elevated as I bend down, letting him see it from this angle while I rid myself of my shoes and toss them aside. I hear a moan from above me, and I know that Loki isn't disappointed with the view. I smile devilishly at my own good work.
When I return to a standing position, I see one of those lovely hands of his slowly massaging the leather-covered bulge in the front of his trousers, his eyes eager as he leans against the arm still on the glass, panting, face flushed. I inhale deeply and sharply, turned on even more by Loki pleasuring himself. Mmh.
I don't realize that I say that out loud until Loki meets my eyes with nothing but desire in them, augmented by my own reaction to him. I lower my head a bit and narrow my eyes, my mouth twisting up into a smirk as I bite the left side of my lower lip. I decide to up the ante and hold up my right hand, extending two fingers and then crooking them. Extend. Crook. I know that beckoning him to a place just out of reach will wind him up even more, which is exactly what I want. Loki's jaw clenches and his hand—the one not in use—curls into a tight fist.
"Well, this isn't going to help either of us," I state matter-of-factly, indicating the glass. I would continue with my teasing by asking him what he thinks I should do, but I'm too aroused to resist even my own will. My resolve is disintegrating with every second I waste outside the cell. I can deny it no longer: I need him fucking me senseless, and when that thought comes to my mind, the image of him taking me without hesitation, having his way with me, the ache between my legs intensifies twofold.
I slide my arms out of my sleeves and slowly remove the rest of the suit from my body, relishing the feeling of my outer clothing sliding away from my skin, leaving most of it exposed save for what was covered by my black lace underwear. I feel cool air meet the fire of my arousal, giving me chills, and as I look back at the cage, I notice that Loki is now bare-chested, his hand now inside his pants, watching me hungrily.
Holy shit. I had been correct in my assumptions about his bare torso in the general sense, but he is more stunning than I could have imagined. Lean, toned, muscular. Sexy, as if his flesh had been sculpted out of alabaster marble into the body of living, breathing Adonis. No, better than Adonis. Loki makes Adonis look like he were made clumsily out of dirt.
I stand there for a moment, my widened eyes taking in the glorious sight before me. It's all I can do not to touch myself right then and there. I'm shivering with desire. I can't take it anymore.
I take the few steps I need to close the distance between the door and myself and punch in the code with trembling hands. The door opens, and all sexual hell breaks loose.
I don't have much time to be react to the space between us that can now be closed before his luscious lips meet mine, and he fiercely kisses me and plunges his tongue deep into my expectant mouth. I battle with his, trying to assert myself, but I'm soon aware that he'll have none of it as he presses my body between his own and the wall within seconds.
I run my hands up and down his muscular torso, loving the way he feels under them. I savor every inch of his smooth front I can as he moves his mouth to my neck, nipping at it feverishly, leaving love bites in his wake. I moan wordlessly at his ministrations, my sound taking shape at the end: "Loki."
He returns to my lips forcefully in approval of his name in my throaty voice. Unexpectedly, one of those dexterous, strong hands takes my wrists and pins them above my head. I suddenly realize that I'm no longer the one in control, that there is absolutely no hope of escape. I don't need the growing moisture in my panties to tell me that I'm enjoying the fuck out of it.
Loki presses another hot, open-mouthed kiss to my eager lips as he slides his other hand under my bra, squeezing my left breast. "Oh!"
He continues to palm it, and I rise and fall sinuously in time with the motions of his hand, panting with sighs of pleasure. It feels so good, but he stops too soon to do away with my bra. I gasp at the sudden cool air, the complete exposure to him, and my nipples harden almost immediately. Watching him see that intimate reaction drives my arousal through the roof, and I rub my one leg against the other, creating friction in just the right spot. Loki smirks at me as he notices what I'm trying to do and forces his left leg between mine so that I can't continue with the stimulation I crave. I whimper in protest and become even more frustrated when I realize that he is holding his leg too low for me to rub against that, too. His left hip has me pressed against the glass, my hands are currently held captive, and there is no way out at all.
"I see why they call you the God of Mischief," I say, breathing heavily as I twist my mouth into a wry smile that doesn't entirely hide my longing. Loki's smirk widens over his teeth, and as I see them, I suddenly remember where I wanted them. He's making me lose my mind, this god, and he totally knows it and the fact that I would do anything now for his touch, his mouth, his fingers, his cock. I've completely surrendered. And I give absolutely zero fucks.
He laughs darkly, and it sends another thrill through my clitoris. I buck my hips (or do my best to) with unrestrained lust, and he feels it.
"Just a laugh sets you off?" Loki says, slightly amused. I nod hopelessly. He knits his brow. "Does that usually happen?" Not acknowledging the humor that that presents, I shake my head "no" and say breathlessly, "Just now. That...voice…"
As I trail off, Loki looks at me expectantly. "That voice what, exactly?" he asks, leaning in close to my face. I feel his breath on my neck and shudder, titillated, eyes closed, getting chills but still so hot. Thanks to him.
"I know what you want," he whispers, suddenly next to my ear. I gasp at the abrupt closeness and roll my neck in desire. I feel his hand graze the sides of my breasts as he slides it down my sternum, then my stomach, and I'm sure that the entire crotch of my panties is damp with my arousal by now, and it continues to get even wetter with everything he does to me. His finger stops, the tip half on my skin and half on the article of clothing that stands between me and complete nakedness, his cock inside me, his touch where I crave it so desperately.
"Tell me," Loki demands, nipping at my earlobe. "That voice what?" He traces the edge of the skin above my panties with that finger that I so long to be inside them.
"Uh…it," I struggle, "turns…" I pause as his finger does.
Loki brings his face back to mine, our lips less than two inches away. "Turns what?" he asks, a mischievous, shit-eating grin spread across his striking face as his deft fingertips graze the skin above the fabric I yearn for him to drag down.
Fuck this waiting.
I look him fearlessly in the eyes and say lowly, "Turns me on." My admission only adds to my arousal.
He inhales sharply, satisfied with my answer. "Good girl," he murmurs with a smirk, and with my wrists still pinioned to the glass, he slowly pushes his hand inside my panties and rubs my nether regions with those adept fingers, and I can feel them touch the juices at my opening that had been produced just for him. I moan with pleasure, panting as I move my freed hips back and forth against Loki's very skilled hand, glad that he'd needed to let up on the pressure of his pelvis to use his touch where I'd wanted it.
Loki then pushes his fingers between my folds, spreading them apart to get to that spot I so desperately want him to go after. I moan again, my eyes closed in pure pleasure. Fucking hell. His fingers are absolute perfection, working my clit so expertly. "Oh! Ah! Oh, god!" I breathe shakily. "Loki! Mmm!"
Panting, I bite my lip, reveling in the sensations of what he's doing to me. I have never been so aroused, so wet, so completely vulnerable, and I'm enjoying every minute of it. Loki slowly pushes his strong, deft middle finger inside of my tight wetness, the coolness of it contrasting gloriously with the heat of my swollen core. "Ooh!" Just knowing that there is nothing I can do about the pleasure he's giving me sends a fresh warm trickle down through me, and I know he feels it.
I open my eyes, looking into his with delirious lust. I'm almost completely bare, pressed up against a glass cell wall, getting fingered by the God of Mischief, and it's nothing short of heaven. But it doesn't stop there.
Without warning, he leans forwards and takes my left breast into his mouth, sucking hard on my nipple. "Oh!" The combined stimulation of his mouth on my breast and his finger working inside me is just wonderful, and I rotate my hips appreciatively, increasing the sensation. "Unh, god!" I moan weakly, gasping shortly after as he suddenly bites. He then moves to the other breast and adds another skilled finger. "Fuck!" I exclaim in a breathy, high-pitched voice, squeezing my inner muscles around the two digits and my eyes shut. I can feel something rising within me as he pumps his fingers in and out and nips at my breast, and I move with him, moaning, unable to stop him at all.
Abruptly, he does so of his own accord. I open my eyes, breathing heavily, and look at him questioningly, my face flushed and my body sweaty, the feeling fading as my heart slows.
He smirks at me. "You think I'm just going to allow you to cum so easily?" Loki asks, amused, pulling his fingers out of my core, which instantly craves more upon their removal. He lifts those amazing fingers to my lips, lightly grazing my bottom one with the dampness that coats them. "Open up," he says quietly, and, not thinking twice about refusing, I open my mouth and let his fingertips inside. I know what he wants me to do, and god damn it if I'm going to blow an opportunity for Loki to ravish me. So very aroused and desperately wanting more, I will do anything for that now, and sucking my own wetness off his fingers is no fucking exception.
I don't hesitate to begin cleaning them of my sweet arousal, tasting the effect he'd had on me, licking and sucking and making satisfied noises, emulating what I would be doing if his fingers were one of his other surely beautiful and adept appendages.
Loki makes a noise, and I open my eyes and mouth, eyeing him deviously as I swirl my tongue around the tips of his fingers and lave them with the hot wetness. Now, I'm sure there's no question in his mind of what I'm trying to do, and as he shifts his legs uncomfortably, I can tell that I'm right from what presses against my left thigh. My heart jumps excitedly once I feel his erection, and I grin, feeling more of my juices being secreted with anticipation of where I long for it to be.
Using some mischief of my own, I raise my left leg, using the top of my foot to massage his engorged cock through his leather pants. He lets out a stuttered moan, and my heart rate begins to increase with my newly rejuvenated excitement.
Suddenly, Loki lets my wrists go, and I take advantage of it immediately, fire running with abandon throughout my system. I press my bare chest against his almost instantly upon liberation from my entrapment, feeling his erection pushing against my stomach as I kiss him passionately on the mouth, shoving my tongue into it, sliding my hands under the waistband of the leather that keeps me from what I so desperately need. He returns my kiss with equal fervor, sucking on my tongue as I slowly relish the deliciously firm ass under my touch. As Loki begins to slide his hands down my sides, I oppose his action, running mine back up the arc of his smooth, shapely rear and allowing my thumbs to escape and rest on the outside of the fabric that needs to go. Now.
Our lips are frenzied now, and their passionate motion spreads to our hands, which are fervently pushing and pulling at the remaining clothing of the other, heartbeats rising to a crescendo and breathing erratic and wild. Soon enough, my panties are sliding the rest of the way down my legs, and his leather pants are completely removed. I run my fingers up and into that black hair I had so longed to feel, fisting my fingers in it, pushing his lips further into mine, the both of us emitting noises of satisfaction and desire for more. Loki grinds against me, and I reciprocate the motion with enthusiasm, my juices slicking his rigid naked cock with moisture. He groans, sliding his hands down my back to compress the lower halves of my rear end in those talented hands of his. The contact in such an intimate place in tandem with his cock grazing my clit, his lips ravishing mine, our naked bodies pressed together, the delicious noises of pleasure pulled from inside us make my body smolder with desire.
Suddenly, I feel his tip inadvertently slide in an eighth of an inch before continuing its established route beyond my opening, and I gasp, pulling my mouth away from his. Almost immediately, Loki knows what takes me away from those lips. I open my eyes, and he smiles mischievously, breathing hard, face flushed.
"Is there something the mortal…desires?" He leans past my field of vision to hiss the last word in my ear. His breath tickling my neck, his low, gravelly voice, make me inhale a stuttered breath. Loki's skilled hand slides tantalizingly slowly down my abdomen, past my waist, over my intimate area, and through my folds, his fingers slipping between them and pressing my clit, those mesmerizing eyes gauging my reaction.
I close my eyes and set my teeth at his action, letting out a muffled moan at his ministrations. Loki's hand moves further forwards, massaging my clit as he slowly circles my opening with his middle finger. I moan again and grind against his fingers, breathing heavier.
"You know, all you have to do is ask," he murmurs. It sounds like a simple statement, but I can hear the mirth behind the words. I open my eyes again, and his mouth is twisted into a smirk, eyes burning. He replaces his hand with his cock, pressing it against my warmth, teasing my weeping natural fissure. Gripping my hips with his hands to immobilize them, Loki inserts it just a quarter of an inch.
"I know what you want," he repeats, using his earlier words, nipping at my jaw, then down my neck. I know he won't grant my wish if I stay silent, and it's killing me how much I want it.
"I want you," I huff out through my arousal, my eyes gazing yearningly at his face as he pulls back to look at mine. Apparently, my basic declaration isn't enough for him.
"You think that's going to make your point?" Loki says wryly, sliding in another quarter inch. I whimper, unable to move my pelvis to swallow more of him. "Surely you can be more specific." I pause, trying to think of what he might want to hear. "Or can't you?" he says, withdrawing it, shattering the little resolve I have left. I'm shaking violently. My aching, dripping core is so agonizingly empty. I can't bear that anymore. I surrender completely, giving into him with no hope of redemption.
"I want your cock inside me," I say lowly, fiercely, abandoning all teasing, flirting, seductiveness, and any of that other bullshit for the pure, unrestrained lust now running rampant throughout me and out of my mouth with nothing to prevent its course as I tell him what I want, all of it, not caring how it sounds as long as he hears every word. "I want you fucking me, taking me like crazy, having your way with me. I want it. Badly."
Loki is surprised again at my candor, but his newly intensified arousal is unmistakable. I can feel his cock harden even further underneath my mound, and he growls with desire, and as he pushes me against the glass, I jump and lift my legs, spreading them to accommodate his body. I am wide open, completely bare and exposed before him, and before I can relish that to the full extent, he rams his cock into me to the hilt.
I let out a strangled scream at the instant pain from my newly stretched upper walls, the sheer size of it, the force with which he penetrates me. I've never had something so huge, so powerful, so alive inside me. I gasp, breathing heavily as I try to adjust to its thickness, waiting for the aches to subside.
Loki hisses and grunts upon completing his entrance, and I can see the pleasure contort his face as his fingers dig into the backs of my thighs. "Such a tight fit," he manages through clenched teeth, which makes pride bloom in my chest and neck from the fact that I can give him such gratification simply by my size. Inspired, emboldened, I then squeeze my still-aching inner muscles around his member, gritting my teeth against the tenderness, and Loki lets out another noise. Through the effects of my efforts to get accustomed to his size and girth, I grin at his reaction, letting him know I did it on purpose.
Loki grins at me in return. "Let's see just how well you can manage that when I'm fucking you mercilessly."
Almost immediately, any and all intentions I have or would have had to tease are eviscerated, displaced by an intense yearning for him to ravish me. Now. It permeates my entire body, setting me on fire, a burning that can only be extinguished by one thing. However, before I am to be satisfied…
"Beg for me," he commands.
I let out a groan of frustration, followed by an exasperated "Are you fucking kidding me?!" I'd waited, been teased, put up with submitting to him thus far, and I need him shoving his cock into me again and again and again.
"Until you plead with me sufficiently, nobody's fucking anybody," Loki says, that smirk having returned to his face. I notice the emphasis he puts on the word and realize that this is the second time he's cursed. I find it titillating to hear him say such things in this context, but before I have time to enjoy it completely, he withdraws his cock from me. I whimper from the ache that intensifies as Loki leaves me empty, and as the sound escapes my mouth, his finger touches my clit lightly. I jump a bit as he delicately circles it, and as I try to press against his fingertip, he backs it up, still keeping it in minimum contact but without force. It's enough to drive me mad. I whimper in desperation. I need him. Any propensity I have for fighting disintegrates.
"Please," I whine, all the fucks I give and would have given melting into a pitiful longing for him to fulfill my desires, my sheer need for him overtaking my brain and my vocal cords, letting everything pour out in a torrential, shameless rush of imploring. "Please, fuck me, Loki, I beg you, please. I need you so badly. Please, I want you having your way with me, no matter how much I scream, I just want you to fuck me like you've never fucked anyone else, I need your cock pounding into me. Please. I'm begging you, I can't wait any—"
Apparently, my words are the last straw and enough to burn away any of Loki's own potential resolve. A feral growl escapes him as he menacingly, lustfully glares into my eyes, his fingernails digging deeper into the undersides of my thighs...painful but so, so good.
"You won't need to," he manages with ragged breath, attempting a mischievous smirk that doesn't mask his desire before he plunges into me again.
I cry out, the pleasure exceeding the tenderness this time, and before I can fully enjoy the feeling of him being inside me, he pulls out, shoving back in in all of a second. I whimper again, arching my back and neck. Loki doesn't stop, thrusting into me at a steady rate, pounding his cock into my swollen, dripping core, brushing my clit as he does so.
"Ohh-ohhh-oh!" I moan, the friction almost too much for me, the heat intensifying with every thrust, pleasure tightening my abdomen and building within my solar plexus as he takes me like no one else ever has.
"Oh, Loki!" I cry out, bending my neck backwards in ecstasy as he fucks me relentlessly, the sounds of our hips pounding together, him sliding in and out of my hot, wet sex, his groans, my moans, and our panting blending into a clamorous cacophony of pure lust and pleasure.
That of Loki's seems to increase as he sees my further exposed neck. As my eyes roll into the back of my head from the incredible sensation already in progress, I suddenly feel him yank my head further back by the hair at the back of my head.
Loki doesn't slow his pace. In fact, he fucks me faster, harder, my legs wrapped around him as he pounds his cock into me, relying on one hand, the rest of his body, and the wall to keep me up.
Panting, grunting, and warm, Loki's mouth attacks my neck, licking, biting, sucking. I moan loudly, long, sinking my nails into his beautiful shoulders. Loki groans, letting slip coherent words at the end of it: "Agh. Fuck!"
Hearing that sends a wave of fire through me. My breathing starts to come in short bursts, louder, higher pitched as he fucks me harder and faster than I've ever been fucked.
"Ohhhh, my gooooddddddd," comes my voice, reverberating off the glass, the area of it behind me now slicked with my sweat, and I can feel the edge approaching. "Don't...stop..."
"Say my name," Loki huffs, his voice made all the more exciting by the lust pervading it, "when you cum."
I nod my head as much as possible, my breath coming in quick, deep gasps as I expel, "Yes."
Loki somehow increases his pace, the friction and force almost unbearable now as I near my release. I moan, arching against him as far and fully as I can, bare breasts bouncing against his chest, head threatening to break the glass behind it from how far back my neck is extended.
I let out short, high-pitched cries of pleasure as my orgasm comes ever closer, beginning to writhe under his glorious body, and just as my inner walls start to tighten around him, he places two cool fingers over my clit and rubs against it hard and fast.
"Come for me. Now," he commands thickly, thrusting with an overwhelming vigor into my core.
All the tension, the pleasure, the heat explodes from inside me as my body convulses violently, my walls clenching and releasing again and again around his member as I drench it with my lust, continuing to scream his name. Almost immediately after mine begins, I hear Loki yell his release as he ejaculates inside me, spurts of his hot seed shooting into my core, trembling as strongly as I do as the force of our incredible joint climax wracks the both of us with indescribable ecstasy.
As the involuntary spasms slowly start to subside, each of us panting as heavily as the other, Loki rests his forehead on mine, bringing those hands to fold around the sides of my naked waist, which are predictably damp with sweat. My legs are still wrapped around his equally sudoric body, and I'm surprised that Loki's still standing.
I choose that moment to glance up softly into his eyes through my lashes, the tops of our faces still against one another. Loki locks his gaze onto mine, and I smile, letting out a breathy, shy chuckle as I look into his blue eyes. I see him grin just a bit, and he tightens his grip on my hips as he pulls out. The two of us moan at that, the final motion of our intimate parts together. About a second after his removal, I feel a bit of cum seep out of me and begin to make its descent down my legs. Loki notices this, and smirks, laughing quietly through his nose.
I twist my mouth into a wry shape, somewhere between a grimace and a smile. "Well, what do you expect? You shot so much into me, after all." Loki's grin widens in response, and I use that moment to unwrap my legs from him the rest of the way, groaning at their stiffness, my core already sore from his ruthless fucking as I slowly lower my feet back to the ground. He then reassigns his hands to my shoulders as my legs attempt to support my weight. I gasp as they tremble, my aching muscles causing my knees to give way a bit, making me stumble. Loki's hands steady me, and I can hear him laughing in a low, wicked voice before he speaks.
"I would have thought that composure was your strong point, Agent," he mutters, mirth framing the words.
I meet his eyes again, glaring at him with a playful smirk. "Well, I suppose that's two things I've learned," I respond, sliding my arms up around his neck, seduction playing my facial features. "One, that my composure needs work," I begin, tilting my naked body into his, "and two, that we have something in common." My smirk widens mischievously.
"Really?" Loki says, raising his eyebrows, sliding his palms down my back and returning them to my hips, looking into my eyes with slight amusement. "And what might that be?"
I then lean in to whisper in his ear, moving my hands up into his beautiful hair before I breathe a single word to Loki, the all-powerful God of Mischief who'd just fucked me senseless: "Lust."