The Night Is Young

The second Barbara had kissed him, all bets were off. Loki kissed her back with all of the passion he could manage. And for a god like him, that was quite some feat. His hands slid up her sides, one of them sliding up to rest at the back of her neck, pulling her deeper into the kiss. Perhaps he was so hesitant because of his experience in Asgard. He was so used to using magic to get his way, he was hardly used to a woman not rejecting him the second she had a mind of her own. He wasn't sure what influence was his magic and what was her own mind. But this. This kiss might have been one of the most sincere acts he had managed in his not inconsiderably long life.

When she ended the kiss and asked who he was again, he managed his impish smirk he was so famous for, eyes lighting with magic, though he used none of it on her. Not this time. "I am Loki, Son of Odin," he said plainly. "I am Loki," he brushed his lips against her jawline, "of Asgard," a kiss upon her neck, "of Jotunheim," a kiss upon her shoulder, "and most recently of Midgard." When he looked into her eyes again, he smiled his most charming smile, leading her into the bedroom he had created.

"I must say, Lady Minerva, meeting you has been a fascinating lesson in Midgard's newest cultures. Last time I was here, women were more reserved." He kissed the back of her hands and kissed all the way up one of her arms until he could nestle his nose into her neck. "I like this much better, if I have a right to say so." He pulled her body into his so they were pressed flush against each other, fingers tangling into her hair and tugging it back just enough so she would look up at him. "And you ... are simply intoxicating." He pressed his lips against his, softer than would be expected after the act of control he had just displayed. His tongue flicked past her lips not unlike the snake he was, almost teasing her the way she had teased him not moments before.

The experimental nature of the kiss lasted only for a brief moment before it was deepened, intensely so, by Mr. Odinson. It was enough to shock and surprise Barbara, causing her to tense and freeze for an instant as he held her tight and close. She hadn’t expected that sort of kiss from this sort of man. It was…. hopeful? Eager, perhaps, with a bit of relief slipped in? Was he actually happy she had kissed him? Did he expect her to do something else at this moment? All these questions became clearer once he said his name, his real name.

Loki? The actual Loki? For a moment, Barbara thought he was joking. After all, a lot of Scandinavian men shared names with Nordic gods. But when she looked into his eyes and saw the magic there, both before and after the amount of kisses, she recognized it almost instantly. Urzkartaga had similar magic in his eyes. This was something… did all gods share that? As she was being led into the bedroom, Barbara couldn’t help but remember how the Greeks wrote of their gods having ‘flashing eyes’. Now her mind raced to remember her lessons on the Asgardians and Loki in particular. Trickster, Sky-treader, Scar-lip, and Lie-smith. He fathered some of the greatest monsters Asgardians ever fought and his daughter ruled the dead. It was also foretold that he would bring about Ragnarok. He was not a womanizer, though he did have his share of toying, teasing, and bringing them trouble. And here he was, nuzzling the crook of her neck. Barbara wondered briefly if he could feel her pulse quickening.

Any and all witty banter she could think of left Barbara’s mind as she watched the god kiss her hands and make his way back up her arms. “Lady Minerva?” she asked, still feeling a bit dumbfounded. More than one pagan god existed? How this could be a shock to her, she had no idea, but it was. As her head was jerked back, Barbara feared that he could taste Urzkartaga on her. She had no idea what would happen and her sudden fear and worry caused her eyes to change into cat-slits, watching Loki carefully. She wouldn’t change, she wasn’t that foolish. She would be no match for him and then there would be the problem of the guests outside. But the following kiss? It was gently and teasing, almost feathery light and cloying, like the flick of a snake’s tongue against her skin. She couldn’t help but instinctively chase after that tongue and enjoy it briefly before remembering herself. “I…. I didn’t think you existed,” she said, breathily. “How many of you are there?” Countless cultures meant countless gods. She was just thankful that, at the moment, Barbara didn’t feel Urzkartaga around at all. He most certainly didn’t need to show up.

Watching Barbara process who he was was quite a treat that Loki wasn't prepared for. From the moment he'd said his name, he could see the hint of a laugh at the corner of her mouth, but it faded when she slowly realized he wasn't lying. Sometimes telling the truth was entirely worth the contradiction of being the God of Lies. The magic in his eyes swirled with a more playful glow than might have been expected of someone with his reputation, but he didn't seem worried about reputations right now. Not when he was in the company of a beautiful woman.
And, nuzzling the crook of her neck, he did feel her pulse quicken. He purred softly, masking the chuckle bubbling up from his chest. Oh, this was delicious.

He could indeed taste another god's imprint on her skin. It was feral, and at the same time rooted. It tasted like the plains of Africa that Barbara had mentioned. Oh, Barbara, you had gotten into some interesting trouble while you were abroad, didn't you? But which god was it that had imprinted on her? His kisses became more experimental as he tried to figure it out, until it occurred to him. Urzkartaga. That bush had an idol that married whoever found it to him. Loki himself was lucky enough, he didn't need an idol to get him a date. Still, he felt some sympathy for this woman. Urzkartaga was hardly a gentle lover, and if she was indeed married to him, he had resolved to treat her much better than that glorified shrub.
He smirked and kept every touch and every kiss light and playful, as if to set her at ease from the judgements she was almost assuredly making about him.

Upon hearing her question, he pulled back and looked at her, thumb brushing against her cheek affectionately. "There's only one of me," he said, teasingly. "But of the gods? More than you could ever imagine." He kissed the tip of her nose tenderly, pulling her hips against his own. "All the myths are true, my lady. Gods and monsters are real, and some of us?" He leaned in, his nose brushing against her jawline as he kissed her neck. "Some of us just want to experience what we might have missed in our golden paradises."
Which wasn't wholly untrue. He wanted to use this time on Midgard to experience some things he might not have experienced before. Though, frankly, that was getting harder and harder to do. He could start, though, by having his way with another god's wife. That would be an excellent start, and worthy of the God of Mischief.

Once her suspicions were verbally confirmed, Barbara was a tumultuous collection of emotions. She was giddy over the thought of meeting another god, while also being apprehensive and wary over the same fact. He was Loki, after all. What if he knew of her relationship with Urzkartaga? He had a reputation of bringing trouble where ever he went. Was this an attempt to do such a thing? Was he even aware of her marriage? As she was being playfully kissed, Barbara’s mind raced through all the stories that she could remember of the god. He was keen of mind and eyes, but Heimdall had better sight, able to discern magic and intent where others could not. Even Loki had his downfalls in some stories. Perhaps he didn’t know. Perhaps she could play herself off as a strange, cat-eyed mutant since her control had slipped and he had surely seen her eyes change not too long ago. If she could keep him off balance long enough, perhaps he would never know.

Barbara chased his lips once her mind was made up. Her hands deftly made an attempt to remove his jacket and begin unbuttoning his collar, hoping that this would make him more comfortable and at ease. “I know the stories, so of course there is only one of you, Master Loki.” She had no idea how to address him. Urzkartaga was no help as she had always called him by his name or used ‘husband’. She wanted to show some respect, but not so much that it would throw him off and make him lose interest in this moment. When he pulled her hips closer, Barbara couldn’t help but gasp softly. The move had been unexpected but not unwelcomed. His teases and kisses were light and playful, more so than Mystique who was the only other person she could compare this technique to. But, even with such lightness, her body responded appropriately.

“I have never met anyone like you,” she told him, breathing becoming heavier. A technical truth. Urzkartaga was nothing like him, so he could not say she was lying if he called her bluff. “I should be so honored to be your bedmate for this night that you are on Midgard.” Her kisses were becoming rougher and more heated as her need, whether it was her own or some unexpected bonus she had acquired upon becoming Urzkartaga’s wife, grew more and more while in his embrace. She growled softly, no longer waning these kisses to be playful and light but rather for them to have deeper, most lustful intentions. “Please, my lord?” she whispered softly against his lips before pulling him into a kiss that showed her deep desire.

The more Loki kissed Barbara, the more he could taste the other god on her. Urzkartaga's imprint on her was so crystal clear, it was like licking a tree. Well, he would soon see to that. After all, not even gods from the hottest plains of Africa could stand the harsh cold Loki himself brought with him. Perhaps it was an attempt to break up the marriage of a fellow god. Perhaps not. Either way, he was sure to have his fun with this mortal. And, after all, those beautiful golden eyes were a wonderful compliment to his own green eyes. As if he needed more reason than that.

Before long, his jacket was off, and his hands were at work unzipping the back of her dress. His hands slid up the bare skin of her back before tangling into her hair, turning it into a disheveled mess. His once light touches were turning more and more into what might be expected of a Viking God, but still not too harsh. "Master Loki is far too formal for someone as beautiful as you," he said, silver tongue working its way into her ear. "You may call me Loki. Sir, if you wish. But never master. Not to you." His voice was as silky smooth as his hands against her skin. He certainly knew what to say, and just the tone to say it. He had already seduced her, but he wanted more than her body it seemed. One thing was for sure, he wasn't quite satisfied with their situation quite yet, but he was decided he was going to do his best to get there.

He could almost sense the half truth in her words, but he paid it no mind. He knew what she meant. Though, he was a little surprised she was so willing to forget her marriage for him. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought. He smirked and buried his face in her neck, peppering it with kisses and leaving the occasional nip at her flesh. "As you wish," he purred, picking her up by her legs and setting her on the bed. His kisses became more voracious as he pulled her dress up and off, magic guiding it to hang itself up on his cane leaning against the wall.

[FADE TO BLACK]

Loki’s kisses began to change as they went on. Not in the physical sense, but rather in some unexplainable sense, as if he were trying to taste the very core of Barbara’s being, or something close to it. The sensation, while not terrible and uncomfortable, did illicit a growl from her lips; one a bit more animalistic and leaning towards a warning than she could ever make while human. It was done reflexively, as if she weren’t in control of it. For a moment, Barbara worried that Loki would stop and realize a mistake had occurred.

But no, his hands were soon caressing her bare back and making a mess of her hairdo, and whatever need to growl she had quickly turned to purrs as he whispered in her ear. It was a whisper that made a thrill run through her body. “And what if I chose Sir Loki, Knight Errant of the Nine Realms?” she asked teasingly. Yes, he was a prince, but knights were always better in her book.

Whether Loki knew about Barbara’s marriage and whether he cared or not was an unknown factor, however, she knew the exact rules set for her bedroom activities. Urzkartaga had a preference for virgins, so needless to say he was more than a bit disappointed to learn that Barbara wasn’t one. That argument had been a long one, coming up after her first encounter with Artie Cade, as he was ready to punish her for her infidelity which was nothing more than a deep kiss, while she countered with his actions which boiled down essentially to ‘marry first and check the status later’. In the end, they had come to an agreement; when her full powers were bestowed, she was his and only his in cat form; no questions asked and no quarter given. However, as a human woman, she was given a bit more of lease on her private life. She was allowed certain leeways, however, if her husband were to appear, he was displeased with her actions, and she needed to stop immediately. As of right now, outside him appearing to her, Laura, and Artie on the island, Urzkartaga had been rather tame and lenient. But Barbara wondered if Loki was doing something to hide them, because not even she believed that her husband would stand her sleeping with another god.

She made a motion, starting to ask the trickster god to stop, but the thought was quickly dashed away as the kisses came faster and hotter, her dress was hung up by magic, and, as the Bard would say, they began making the beast with two backs. To stop now would be an insult to Loki, and besides, what Urzkartaga didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

(FADE TO BLACK)

An hour later, Barbara laid in the tangled sheets, unsure of what to say, but utterly amazed that he had broken the bed. She had never been with someone that broke a bed. This was most definitely a first for her. She blinked, not wanting to move or say a word, thinking that if she did anything, it would all turn out to be nothing more than a dream. Avery enjoyable and memorable dream, but a dream nonetheless.