#siftasha

Sif’s hand tightened around Natasha’s wrist, not in a way that meant she’d be bruised but just enough to let Natasha know that she meant business, that something else was coming. Something that started a hunger deep in Nat’s gut that she didn’t know she’d had. Amora had been at the feast, plying Natasha with strong wine and sweet words whispered in Natasha’s ear, joking about Sif’s past. She’d been a blonde, according to Amora, but once Loki had chopped off her locks and tried to find her replacement ones made of gold, they’d twisted black and curled into the ringlets Natasha loved to run her fingers through. All harmless stories, all told with a grin and spark in Amora’s eye that had Sif’s teeth grinding loud enough that Natasha could hear it over the din.

Now, being pulled right after her through the Asgardian palace, the torches lighting their way and casting their shadows, this was exciting.

They’d hardly made it through the door to Natasha’s so generously granted guest rooms, the torches springing to life upon their entrance with a magic she wasn’t used to, her back was slammed up against the door as soon as it closed. Sif’s lips slotted, hot and desperate and needy, over Natasha’s own, which opened and granted Sif entrance. The warrior’s fingers slid through the loose waves Nat’s hair had been styled in for the feast that evening, nails scratching at her scalp hard enough to make her moan, back arching up against the door and body pressed, hot and wanting, against Sif’s.

“I hated watching her put her hands on you,” Sif snarled when she came away for air, her eyes bright and lips like spilled blood. Nat’s mouth watered.

She kept her smile coy, though. “Did you?” she purred, fingers skating across the satin of Sif’s dress just over her hip, trailing over towards her core. “So why didn’t you do something about it? Hell, we could’ve asked Amora to join us--.”

Her words caused Sif’s growl to deepen, vibrating through her chest as she grabbed both of Nat’s wrists and pinned them above her head, her mouth and teeth ravaging the soft skin of Natasha’s throat. Nat groaned, knees weakening.

“You’re mine. Mine to see like this, wanton and willing and wanting.” Sif’s teeth bit down on the juncture of Nat’s throat and shoulder, making the spy shout in surprised pleasure. “Mine to see bared beneath me, mine to fuck, and to be fucked by. No one else is privy to that.” Her hips rolled against Natasha’s, and she could feel the searing heat coming from her core even through the fabric, as though it might burn her alive.

“Prove it,” Nat could barely speak, her eyes glossy and lips parted as she sucked in air, a drowning woman’s last moments. “Show me how I’m just yours.”

Sif’s lips twisted to a grin, showing sharp, white teeth, as she whirled the redhead around and pushed her back to the bed. The fire between Nat’s legs grew all the stronger, anticipation nearly choking her.

There was something so fascinating about watching the way Sif removed her armor after a fight, Natasha thought as the adrenaline of their last fight simmered just beneath her veins. A series of birds that had, supposedly, come from one of the realms had found their way into Midgard, and though their firebreathing properties might not have been a shock to Sif, they’d caused a hell of a problem as they’d flown around Hell’s Kitchen. Talk about taking the name literally. They’d been easy enough to take down, thankfully, Sif having helped coordinate the other new members of the team to teach them the various weak spots of the creatures, and having a couple flying team members helped as well.

Now, the two of them were alone, without any sort of distractions, Wanda having gone off to the med bay to look after a nasty burn on her left leg. Now, Nat couldn’t help it as her eyes gravitated towards the Asgardian, the two women stealing what few moments to themselves they could before the debriefing that followed each mission they ran. The gauntlets came first, slipping off of Sif’s toned arms with the slightest of movements from Sif’s practiced fingers, then the belt, and skirt followed, betraying slivers of well muscled leg to Nat’s gaze. Her cheeks warmed and she felt her breathing quicken. The metal breastplate, the craft luxurious and silver gorgeously designed, seemed to all but melt away, showing a thin shift of deep maroon that swam its way down her toned body, her nipples hard against the surge of cold air without the protection of the metal. Nat had to look away before she did something stupid, her fingers already fumbling with the zipper of her own catsuit. If she hurried, and didn’t bother changing right then and there, she had maybe ten minutes once she got into her room where she’d be able to take matters into her own hands and cool down. It might make her late for the meeting but the way that Sif’s ass looked when she turned around? Nat had to force her eyes back to the near empty, open locker in front of her, the temptation of watching Sif finish stripping far too great otherwise.

Dammit, she needed to get it under control. She left the zipper alone, slamming her locker shut and spinning the dial. Chewing on the inside of her cheek she turned around--.

Only to be pressed up against the metal of the other lockers, Sif’s bare body pressed up against the leather of Natasha’s suit, and Sif’s eyes were warm, devouring Natasha inch by inch, stripping her to the bone. “Please pardon my forwardness, I’m not intimately familiar with your customs,” Sif breathed, her lips falling on Natasha’s throat. Nat couldn’t help but shiver, her breasts pressed to Sif’s body. Damn the leather that separated them. “But I have desired you for quite some time, Natasha.” Sif’s eyes were hooded, pupils enormous, and she licked a slow stripe up from where her throat started at the collar of her suit, to the soft spot at the back of Nat’s ear, teeth brushing against the sensitive skin just hard enough to make Nat’s knees buckle, her eyes fluttering shut. “And I would have you right here, right now, before I lose the chance.”

Sold. She nodded, the color high in her cheeks, the slow burn of desire and want crashing against her ears as Sif took the zipper and tugged it down past Natasha’s navel, following it inch by inch with her lips. She stopped only to kneel at Natasha’s feet, the zipper going just far enough past her mound that Sif could sneak a couple fingers past the tight fabric and press them into Natasha’s already soaked sex. She hadn’t had time that morning for panties, or a bra, and couldn’t have been more thankful for one less thing to worry about. Sif’s mouth managed to latch onto her clit and suck until Nat had no choice but to dig her fingers into the goddess’s hair in hopes of steadying herself. Her breath came in muffled pants, and she was torn between wanting to slam her eyes shut and just focus on the budding pleasure that shot like lightning through her every molecule, and watch the Sif go to town between her legs. When she couldn’t get the angle just right the goddess gave a low growl, and tugged one of Natasha’s legs up and around her shoulders, then the other, until the spy was pinned up against the metal, nowhere else to go and nothing more to do than ride it out. Sif’s tongue thrust just past Natasha’s clit, and her fingers pumped all the faster inside of her, a third sneaking in to join the other two. Without Nat having to say a word, Sif hooked them just right, the pressure and perfect angle more than what even Nat’s most considerate lover had ever been able to give her. Her muscles tightened as her jaw fell open in a low groan as her toes curled. Almost--almost there.

With a strangled shout, some strange mixture of a prayer and Sif’s name, her vision went white, and her body convulsed in Sif’s grip, hips rolling in time with the motion of Sif’s hands, Nat grinding her clit back against her mouth. It was all too much, and not enough, her limbs lifeless yet tense as her breathing, and heart, stuttered. And still Sif took, and took, the heat of her stare drawing Natasha’s gaze down until she lost any and all coherent thought.

He ought to have known that he wouldn’t have forever with her, that even a powerful spirit such as herself would be snuffed out when the time came. The Norns held no court, no laws save their own, and offered no explanations as to why it was what they did. After Natalia and he had left the forest they’d traveled the world, gone as far as Natalia had ever been and then surpassed it. He’d never met Clint, the pair of them not having need. Everything they wished for was in their grasp, Loki’s magic fully at his disposal. Every single whim of hers was catered to, and Loki all the happier for it. Every evening was spent in each other’s arms, and every day the world unfolded for them, however it is they wanted it to.

But when he’d come back one evening to the small, abandoned palace he’d commandeered near the edge of England she’d not responded when he’d called out to her. It had forced him to hasten his steps, to chase shadows and bloodstains from room to room until finally finding her, choking on her own blood, in their bed. He’d howled and cradled her in his arms, cutting his own flesh in an offering to the Norns to bring her back--but nothing had happened. He buried her near her favorite garden just by the East, so she could watch the sunrise every morning as she had when they’d been together, and then took off to slaughter every and anyone who’d had a hand in her demise.

--

Some hundred years later, top hat covering his newly blackened curls, he was stopped dead in his tracks by a woman on the other side of the street. He’d seen red hair before, having traveled in Natalia’s absence, but there, amidst the stench of London smog and the burning lamps on the streets, she burned in front of him. Nevermind that she already had a man on her arm, his black hair much like Loki’s own, and nevermind that he doubted she had any idea who he was, he surged across the street the first chance he got.

“Pardon me, madam,” he said quickly, catching her shoulder with his own as they passed in the streets. There was a flash of displeasure in the eyes of the man, but Natalia’s green eyes were bright as she looked up through her lashes at him.

“Not a problem, sir,” she assured him with an easy smile. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I must say, if it’s not too forward,” Loki pressed even as the other man at her side started to try and tug her away. “Your hair is the most extraordinary shade of red. Did your mother give it to you?”

It made her laugh, nodding her head quickly. “She did.”

“How very thoughtful of her. I’m Loki, Loki Laufeyson.” His hand extended but his gaze never left hers, searching for some shred of recognition. Something. Anything. He was desperate for the slightest of hints that she knew who he was. And there was, making his stomach flip with excitement as her lips widened in a smile that lit up her whole face.

“Like the mythology? Wonderful, Sif here has the same fortune of being named after a deity.” She motioned to the man at her side, whose brown gaze Loki now recognized. The corners of his eyes crinkled in interest. Huh.

“Sif? Wasn’t that a goddess?”

Sif’s gaze hardened, his lips pressed so tightly that the corners of his mouth were white with displeasure. “I had an interesting mother. Better, I suppose, to be named after a warrior goddess than to be named after a trickster fool who ends up destroying the world.” His words were biting, his tongue as sharp as the blade Loki had known Sif to wield as a shieldmaiden. Curious that she’d changed her form, yet kept the name. Just what was she hoping to gain by changing herself into a man?

Still, Loki wasn’t called Silvertongued for nothing. It hardly took him half an hour to charm his way back to their home, Natasha, as she was called now, winking as she’d invited him. His mouth had gone dry, his pulse jumping into his throat at the invitation, and the walk took decades before they arrived at Sif’s manor. It was grand, he’d admit that, and as he was led inside by the male counterpart of the woman he’d once known he grinned to catch sight of paintings of women in battle, others of retelling of the same myths that had been told about them. He’d been there to influence one or two of them. With a quick batting of her lashes, Natasha excused herself to go get more comfortable, leaving the pair of men to speak in Sif’s parlor.

The door had hardly shut when Sif stared at Loki, his eyes narrowing. “You are absolutely ridiculous. What in the Hel do you think you’re doing?”

“Courting a lovely lady,” Loki shot back. “I’d never have thought you’d ever give up your body.” He wouldn't be able to understand why she had; she'd been beautiful, still was in her own way. He might've been a liar, but he'd never deny that.

“Yes, well you aren’t the only one who favors a switch up every so often.” Sif rolled his eyes. “Besides, it’s not as though I can pursue my own interests as a woman in this era.” Loki would’ve sworn, for half a moment, that it was the same goddess he’d known before, high cheekbones and withering glare and all. “Why did you pick Natasha, anyway? There’s always a reason with you--And I’m not leaving her, before you say anything.”

All pretense and smiles aside, Loki’s lips twisted into a scowl. “I lost her once before. I’m not going to do it again.”

“You ought to have taken better care of her,” Sif said, and his voice went darker than Loki had ever heard it go before. Loki’s own lips turned upwards in a snarl, teeth bared as his fist grabbed hold of Sif’s front and pulled him up close. He wasn’t fucking around anymore, his anger lashing out at the man in his grip enough to rip the glamor from his body and reveal the same goddess that he’d grown up with, who laughed at Thor’s quips and retaliated when Loki grew too comfortable with his mischief. She glowered, gripping his wrist in her own and twisting it hard enough to force him to release her, dropping back to her feet before the glamor replaced itself over her frame. The newly made male Sif dug his arm against Loki’s throat, backing him up against the wall.

Sif spat: “Don’t touch me again” as his eyes narrowed and the pressure on Loki’s larynx increased, and Loki simply stood still, his toes digging into the carpet, refusing to look away.

“Then don’t you insinuate I didn’t do enough. You don’t know a damn thing.”

Before Sif could say anything else, the sound of a throat being cleared forced them apart, Sif dropping Loki immediately. Loki rubbed his throat, muscles aching. Natasha stood in the doorway, one of her eyebrows arched as her arms folded just under her breasts, pressing them upwards even in the corset she’d undressed to.

“I was going to invite the pair of you up into my room, but if you’d rather have a pissing contest out here I’ll bid you both a pleasant evening.”

Her presence was more than enough to make them both go silent, Loki’s eyes widening as his stomach flopped, and Sif’s tongue darted out to flick against his bottom lip, his pupils blown. Any other time and Loki might’ve filleted a man where he stood for staring at Natasha in that way, but as it was currently he didn’t have the bargaining rights to demand her for himself. Sharing wasn’t his favorite of options, but he’d deal with it at least until he could convince her to be his completely. It was a small mercy, he supposed, that at least it was only sharing with Sif. It could've been far worse, all things considered.

“Is there going to be a problem, boys?” Natasha asked, her head cocked to the side, green eyes turning from Sif to Loki, then back to Sif. Both men were keen to shake their head, assure her that there absolutely wouldn’t be a problem, to which she offered them a crooked smirk and beckoned them to follow her with a crick of her finger. To say that they were chasing after her was a grievous understatement.

Her room was dripping with excess, whatever it was that Sif did obviously paying well enough to afford Natasha such lavish furnishings, and it was only after the door had closed that Sif pounced on Natasha, claiming her mouth for his own. Loki took to skimming his fingertips across her shoulders, loving how she responded beneath his touch, kissing and sucking all the corners of her throat and jaw line that had made her whimper and moan when they’d laid together before. He was glad to find they had the same effect now as they had then, and in no time her corset fell to the ground. Had she been of sound mind, she might’ve even thought it was magic that’d gotten the fastenings and ties undone so quickly, but given the groans that made her whole body vibrate as Loki hiked up her skirts, she wasn’t anywhere near sanity. He preferred it like that. Sif’s hands palmed her breasts, his mouth trailing a warm pathway down the front of Natasha’s throat, to her collarbone, then to suckle both of her breasts in turn. Her head tipped back as he took one of her nipples in between his teeth, nipping softly while Loki freed her of the rest of her clothing, the skirts and hoops and every other accessory that man could conceive to keep them from touching skin to skin fell to the ground.

Natasha was hardly able to croak out “Bed” before Loki had her up in his arms and away from Sif, causing the both of them to groan with displeasure at the loss of contact. It gave Sif more than enough time to divest himself of his own clothing, though, as Loki laid Natasha down on the bed and eased his way between her widespread legs. He could smell her arousal from the other side of the bed, and with his head between her thighs it was damn heady. His tongue flicked against the bud of her clit with slow, simple strokes that had her back arching and her moans gurgling in her throat before Sif closed her mouth with his own once more.

That only spurred Loki to try all the harder to make her moan, relishing the way her body vibrated as he hiked her legs over his shoulders and ground his face against her slick cunt, devouring her, starving for the taste of her and feel of her flesh tightening around his tongue. One of his fingers pressed into her sex, slick enough for him to slide it in to the knuckle, before pressing a second in with hardly any time wasted. Her back arched, one of her hands reaching to tangle her fingers up in his hair as the second reached out to stroke Sif. Loki’s eyes flicked upwards, the sight of the pair of them locked in a passionate kiss enough to send shocks down to his own cock, the tip already weeping with precome. He welcomed the slight friction that came from rocking his hips forward, the seam of his trousers at the perfect position to torment the hell out of him and keep him on edge, and as he caught sight of Natasha’s hand moving he found some strange twist of curiosity had his gaze following her movements. He nearly choked, the size of Sif more than considerable. Just how many liberties had the goddess taken in crafting this form?

Not to be outdone, and not entirely proud of his pettiness, he crafted a spell to alter his own body ever so slightly, just to give Sif some fair competition, and his clothing all but melted off to relieve the pressure that came along with it. Sif’s eyes on him as Natasha broke away from the kiss to gasp for air told Loki that he knew exactly what had happened and had he not been so caught up in the moment he’d have called Loki out on it.

Loki pumped his fingers faster inside of Natasha, eager to break the eye contact between himself and the other god, feeling her begin to tighten up around him before he pulled them out, and pressed one well-slicked finger up to the pucker of her ass. She writhed, eyes opening as she stared down at him. “What’re you doing?” she barely managed to gasp. Sif smirked, kissing the corner of Natasha’s lips.

“This will feel amazing, I promise,” Loki said smoothly, kissing down her inner thigh and smiling as well, his green eyes flicking up to catch sight of her red-tinted cheeks and opened, shocked mouth.

“That’s not--.”

“Trust him, my love,” Sif murmured in her ear, his tongue flicking out against the shell of her ear so that she shivered. Loki wondered if he remembered how the female Sif had tensed up similarly at the same suggestion, though that was centuries ago. “Relax. I won’t let him harm you; nothing but pleasure for you, my darling.”

It seemed to calm her down, enough to let Loki press the first inch of his pointer finger inside, slipping in slowly as she relaxed around him. The heat of her body was divine, and she was as accommodating as ever, he found, as he managed to fit a second finger inside of her, scissoring her further open. She moaned, and Sif helped guide her through it, his mouth flitting from breast to breast, tasting her sweet skin for himself before he moved a thumb to rub slowly against her clit. That helped with the third, and the inevitable fourth that she would need if Loki was going to fit himself inside of her. It was going to be a snug fit to begin with, especially if she’d never done it before, and he delighted in the thought of being her first. His gaze flicked up to Sif’s, who looked about ready to burst as it was, and motioned for him to turn Natasha on her side. It’d make it easier for the both of them, and with a quick dip of Sif’s head, he slowly pulled Natasha towards where he was lying down, slinging her upper leg over his own hips.

“Mind if I?” Sif asked, and Loki shook his head while Nat whimpered. Her forehead pressed forward onto Sif’s chest, hands tightening around his shoulders as he purred in her ear how well she was doing and pulled her further up towards his already aching cock. Loki paused what he was doing to watch as, inch by slow inch, Sif pulled her onto him. His own groans were higher pitched than Loki might’ve thought, more familiar now that he thought about it, and the memory of their own infrequent couplings as they’d grown up made him shudder. His hand inside Natasha worked all the faster, kissing her shoulder blades as Sif rocked with her. He kept her up against his chest, his hips languid as he pulled out, then pushed all the way back in in a slow counterbeat to Loki’s quickening thrusts.

He couldn’t wait much longer, though, and again he used magic to slick himself up. She wouldn’t be able to tell what had happened, and would be all the more grateful for it anyway, as he pulled his fingers out and guided his cockhead into position in its place.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered against her skin, her body vibrating against his even as she nodded, unable to find words. He wondered if there would ever be a world where he could live without this, without feeling her warm skin against his, without hearing the thrum of her heart as she came alive under his touch. Just as slowly as Sif had, he eased into her, hearing Sif’s muffled groan at the pressure against his own cock as Loki filled her up with minor difficulty. He only had to pause once, halfway through, to murmur that she needed to relax, and after some coaxing and a couple extra thrusts from Sif to help relax her muscles was Loki able to fit himself wholly inside her.

He thought she might die, her heart was beating so quickly in her chest, and it was only his terror that they might actually be the death of her that managed to keep him from rutting into her like some wild animal. Instead, he and Sif took turns pushing into and pulling out of her, only ever aligning when she grew closer to her first orgasm. Neither of them would be outdone by the other, and one of Loki’s hands reached around to palm her breasts as Sif caught her mouth with his own once more. She came apart beautifully between them, nails scratching into Loki’s thigh, hiking his leg up to force him to bottom out inside of her completely, her back arching to press her breasts against Sif’s bared chest. Such was the strength of her own orgasm that she pulled both men alongside with her, Loki’s own groan stuttering in his throat as the air was sucked from his lungs and he felt himself explode within her, Sif actually shouting at the sensation as he, too, emptied himself. Between them Natasha whimpered and went boneless, her skin burning and a smile twisting her lips as she kissed Sif, then turned her head to kiss Loki as well.

“Now, wasn’t that better than arguing over something stupid?” she asked, voice hoarse, and broken as Loki thrust quickly back into her for a half moment, before pulling out slowly. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his own face, nodding.

“Yes, you’re quite right my darling.” He kissed her cheek, eyes catching Sif’s, who looked flushed and utterly debauched. “I’m looking forward to trying more out with the pair of you, if you’re both up to it.”

“You’re sure about this?” Loki leaned in, voice soft as they stepped through the crowded Asgardian tavern.  His arm had wrapped around her waist, holding her close when he had led her through the warm, crowded room.  Now they were pressed up against one another just to the side of the stairs, the loud chatter of the Asgardians around them swallowing their words.  Goodness only knew what waited for them upstairs--well, Nat had an idea according to what Thor had promised her, but she didn’t quite know what to expect from him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want.  There’s no shame in it--it was a stupid idea of mine.”  

She cupped the side of his face.  “Do you want me to?”  She asked, lips curling in a reassuring smile.

“I’m trying to say--I’m don’t want to imply--..”

“Loki, if you don’t want me to then I won’t.  But your idea was an intriguing one, Loki.  So long as you still want me to.”  

He didn’t have to say anything, his eyes telling her more than he could find words for. She leaned in to kiss his lips, and when she pulled away there was a new glint of intrigue in her eyes. “C’mon, now. Probably shouldn’t be keeping them waiting.” Her hand found his, fingers threading in with his before she pulled them from their private corner and tugged him upstairs. Thor had assured the both of them that they’d have the largest room to accommodate them, and that with the crowds beneath they ought not to be heard or disturbed. Strange, Nat had to admit, but then she could understand how it was easiest to find privacy when one was surrounded completely. Third door to the left, as Thor had instructed, led through a thick wooden door with three people already waiting for them, in various states of undress. Sif was already completely naked, Steve buried between her legs while Thor stroked himself just to the side, a lazy smile on his lips. The air was thick with the scent of something sweet, and as Natasha breathed deep she felt herself grow giddy, as though the sight of Steve eating Sif out wasn’t arousing enough. Loki, too, was already hardening just behind her, his hips pressed up against her backside.

“Shut the door and come join,” Thor said, his attention half turning to them, lips spreading in an eager smile as he beckoned them closer. Loki was quick to oblige, while Natasha worked at the straps and lacings of her dress. Bloody thing had too many ties, too many buckles, and her skin was boiling beneath it, demanding to be touched. Sif leaned up from where she was laying down and surged over towards the blond just beside her, their lips crashing against one another. Nat didn’t think she’d seen something so gorgeous in her life. She panted breathlessly, feeling Loki’s hands already on her, tugging her back towards him and tipping her face up so that he could kiss her deeply. He’d already undone the front of his jacket, and his trousers were halfway on the floor by the time he helped her finish removing her dress. She moaned to feel the cool air kissing her skin, twisting around to kiss him all the harder and grind herself against his hard cock.

“Bed,” he groaned, and she nearly whimpered when he didn’t lay her down and take her right there. There were footsteps from behind, however, and she was hoisted up before she could do much else other than moan at the heat of Thor’s body against hers. He carried her over to the bed, laying her down besides Steve. Only then did the soldier pull away from Sif’s slit and grin at Nat, his lips soaked with Sif’s arousal and come. He looked gorgeous, blissed out with blown pupils and swollen lips. She had to lean forward to kiss him, had to taste Sif, and the sight made the dark-haired goddess moan.

“You two should do that more often,” she said, voice hoarse. True to Thor’s word, they certainly hadn’t heard anything even when they were just outside the door, so when Loki dipped a finger, then a second, into her soaked sex she didn’t hold back the moan that bubbled from her throat. He’d crawled closer to her, and Thor had sat behind her, his cock bobbing, tip red and dribbling precome. It made Nat’s mouth water. Twisting onto all fours, she arched her hips and looked back at Loki.

“Still think we shouldn’t do this?” she asked, tone joking as she wiggled her toned ass in front of him. He was on his knees and sliding into her in less than a minute, his hips flush against hers before she could think to gloat. Thor’s hand found the back of her head, turning her face to guide her towards his own cock and she swallowed him down with a hum of glee. More often than not she thought she had to dislocate her jaw to take Thor fully into her mouth, but something about the . . . whatever it was that Loki had told her he’d supplied them with, made blowing him a more realistic reality than ever. Her tongue ran along the veined underside of his cock, her lips spread wide as she worked to relax her throat and bob her head up and down. One of Thor’s hands found her hair and grabbed a hold of it, far more gentle even given his mental state. The moan that came from her mouth vibrated around his cock, and when Loki slammed into her once again it pushed her forward, throat tightening around Thor.

She could feel and hear shuffling just to her side, but couldn’t think about what it meant until Sif’s mouth wrapped around the nipple of her left breast, tongue flicking around the swollen bud as Steve mounted his lover from behind and filled her with ease. Nat’s gaze swept over towards them and she whimpered as she pulled away from Thor’s cock to gasp a breath into her lungs. Loki didn’t stop, jolting her forward with every thrust, one hand maneuvered to stroke her clit with his arousal-slicked thumb, the other reaching out to massage Natasha’s other breast.

Sif ran her teeth gently across the nipple in her mouth and Nat choked on a shout, orgasm taking her completely by surprise. She didn’t know whose name to moan, couldn’t hardly think of her own name, and when Thor fed her his cock inch by inch once more she moaned in joy the whole while, the edge taken off completely thanks to the comfortable buzz settling across her skin.

She couldn’t make sense of the look that she saw Steve and Thor pass to one another, only that one second her mouth was filled with Thor’s hardness and the next he was pulling free from her. She whimpered in disappointment, jaw aching but body feeling decidedly empty even with Loki pounding into her all the harder. As Thor moved behind her, and Loki shifted to the side to make more room, Steve moved to lay down on the bed, and tugged Sif with him. She looked as at peace with the world as Nat did, eyes hooded, the color high in her cheeks, and when Steve moved her to sit atop his waist, his cock slipping into her with ease, she whimpered softly, balancing herself forward on her knees. Just within reach. Nat slotted her mouth on the dark haired woman’s throat, sucking and biting as she felt a finger, slicked up with oil that she hadn’t seen on her first, quick inspection of the room, press against the pucker of her ass. Loki slowed down, taking his time and positioning his hips so that the head of his cock milked her g-spot for everything it was worth. She wouldn’t have been amazed to find out that Thor was using electricity on her, her nerves feeling as though they were standing on end.

Sif’s hands massaged Natasha’s breasts as their mouths found one another, Steve’s thrusts slow and just as pointed as Loki’s, it seemed. Nat reached forward to cup the side of Sif’s face, before sliding her hands back to bury them in the woman’s hair. She felt so good, felt right and warm and perfect against her, everything that she needed as Thor inserted a second finger into her ass, scissoring her open. She knew what that meant, and every piece of her wished he’d just go faster, wished he’d fill her up all the faster. With regret, Nat broke away from Sif to press herself back against Thor’s hand, staring back at him.

“I want more,” she whined, words breaking as Sif bit her way across Natasha’s shoulder. She’d have the marks for a couple of days and welcomed them. Didn’t want them to fade away, wanted to remember everything she could about this and have the marks to prove it wasn’t just a figment of her runaway imagination.

“In time,” Thor promised, his mouth open as he watched her body take him with little difficulty. The third finger, combined with Loki’s soft kisses pressed against her back, brought her all the closer to her orgasm, and when it finally wrung itself from her body she felt herself being gently guided back into Loki’s arms. Thor removed his fingers and Nat looked back to grin at him. She knew what was coming.

It took a moment for her body to adjust to the head of Thor’s cock being pressed between her cheeks, and prep or not he took his time, dick slicked up from her saliva and more oil. The burn and stretch had her spine going ramrod straight, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’re doing so well,” Loki said and he sounded absolutely wrecked. “You’re doing so well. You can take him, darling. Keep breathing.” His hand rubbed her back gently, and in front of them Sif moaned loudly, Steve’s own moans joining in as he came. Nat’s eyes snapped open, watching how Sif’s face contorted, how her body went stiff, Steve’s hands tight on her hips. They looked gorgeous, carved out of marble, all rippling muscle and strength joined in the ultimate act of abandon, of pleasure. Nat couldn’t help but bring her hand down between her thighs, forefinger rubbing against her engorged clit. It all felt so good, felt too good, and as Thor leveled out inside her he pushed the rest of the air from her lungs. Stars burst in front of her eyes. Somewhere in the distance she could hear Loki telling her to breathe, felt him pulling out before pushing back in slowly, he and Thor alternating so she was never entirely empty. She was being ripped apart inch by inch and put back together, her every fiber torn into tiny pieces as they worked her back up for the third time. Oxygen was impossible to come by, her brain and body telling her she wanted, needed more. When Sif and Steve pulled apart, Nat tugged the warrioress closer, urging her to lay back down with her legs spread wide. Her mouth knew what she was doing, setting immediately to Sif’s come-soaked slit, taking her time lapping at Sif’s clit and lips with long, flat strokes, emulating the thrusts of the two men behind her. Sif’s moans were sweet, high pitched and breathless, a perfect counterpoint to the grunts and murmurs of pleasure from Loki and Thor, and when their thrusts began to speed up, the two men chasing their own orgasms, Natasha reciprocated on Sif. Steve watched on just behind Sif, massaging her breasts as he mouthed his way up her throat.

Loki was the first to come, his hips pressed hard against Natasha’s as she felt him fill her so much that it began to drip out of her. She didn’t dare break away from Sif, too engaged in what she was doing, so the moans were buried against her skin and vibrated their way up Sif’s spine. Nat had started to lazily pump two fingers into her a little while back, and now Sif clenched around them, her head twisting against Steve’s chest as Nat’s body visibly trembled. Her fourth orgasm hit the same time that Thor’s first one hit. He slammed into her with a roar, and had Nat’s bones not have been as well fortified as they were he might’ve thrown her entire spine out of alignment. Not that she could think much of that, voice gone and Sif starting to tremble beneath her. She came just seconds later, set off by the other two in front of her coming, and for half a moment the room was filled with little more than hard-won breathing of the five sweat-soaked figures straining the reinforced bed frame and mattress they’d taken up residence on.

Of all the things Nat had been through being the wife of a mob boss: threats, extortion, blackmail, etc., kidnapping had, surprisingly, never popped up before now. There was a blindfold pressed against her eyes, and the leather of the car back seat rubbed against her bare and rope-tied legs, the slit of her evening gown riding up considerably. It was a nice enough car, that much she could tell given how little noise it made and how few bumps of the road she felt. There weren’t any voices coming from up front, and that was what threw her off the most. Men she could deal with, men liked to talk and compliment one another on their jobs, liked to shoot the shit about what it was they had plans to do. Men she could work with.

The women that had taken her hostage, well, that had thrown her for a loop at first. They’d gotten the jump on her, ambushing her in the elevator on her way down to a gala opening, Alexei promising he’d come later, and the chloroform-soaked napkin had pressed against her nose as soon as the doors shut. How they’d gotten her from there to here . . . she had an ache in the back of her neck and lower torso that told her it hadn’t been comfortable. She’d feel it tomorrow, the same with the rope burns around her knees and wrists.

So that just left with the burning question: what in the hell had her shit-for-brains husband done this time?

The car started to slow down, and Natasha’s fingers curled around the edges of the rope around her wrists. The binding was tight, but she’d ensured that there was one side of her diamond on her wedding band that was sharp enough, if she could just figure out the angle--.

The car stopped, sounding like it was pulling off onto gravel, and there was a quiet murmur between two people that were in the front seats before they both got out. Panic paralyzed Nat’s bones, and half a second later it was over. They wouldn’t leave her there. They wouldn’t hurt her. They needed her, at least for a little while. She doubted Alexei had even noticed she was gone, which meant that they’d have time to get his attention. Time for her to make an escape.

Warm, strong hands lifted her up from the seat as soon as the door nearest her head was opened, and she went limp as they tugged her out. Someone hoisted her over their shoulder, a woman, based on the scent of her deoderant. Something floral, but not overpowering. As far as smells went it could’ve been worse. She wobbled as she was carried from the outside in, hearing the voice of another woman in the distance. This one sounded like the driver, hissing quietly to someone that didn’t seem to be responding. Phone call?

“You owe me ten grand.” Her voice was soft, dangerous even though Natasha couldn’t see her. At least she knew what she was dealing with. That would have to be the woman in charge of everything. Before she could figure out anything else she was carried through a door that led to, what she guessed, was a hotel. It smelled like a hotel. They must’ve checked in earlier, and Nat was likely brought in through a side door. There was the click of a key card being accepted, and Nat’s foot nudged against the doorframe as she was carried inside before eventually being tossed onto a bed. She winced, biting on her tongue to keep from crying out in surprise, her hands hanging off the soft comforter. There was the sound of the door opening, then shutting.

“She’s all yours, boss.” That had to be the woman who’d brought her in, a grin in her voice. Nat felt her skin pebble with goosebumps, her every nerve on fire as she tried to angle her wrists, to maneuver her ring to try and start undoing the bindings--.

“Thanks,” another female voice said. This one was smirking, though the low level of anger just beneath it all had Nat worried. “You’ll be just outside, then.”

“To make sure you don’t get too loud, yeah. He didn’t have an answer you wanted?”

There was a snort and the eye-roll was practically audible. “Do they ever?”

The pair shared a quick laugh and then the door was shut once again. Now, now was the time that the panic began to set in, her heart pumping adrenaline faster than she could anticipate. The woman’s footsteps echoed like war drums in Nat’s ears as she stepped closer, and her mouth had gone ridiculously dry in the anticipation for what was coming next. An unfavorable answer on her abductor’s end didn’t ever bode well for the abductee.

“I don’t know what you want,” Nat finally managed to say, her voice hoarse, when the woman grew so close she could hear the quiet breaths coming from above. A hand reached out to brush the curve of her shoulder, running along the exposed collarbone. Her breasts were very nearly popping out from the fabric, and her abductor’s hands massaged the soft swells of flesh, reaching down to flick her a nail over Natasha’s left nipple. Her body arched by instinct, and her lips opened in a soft gasp of surprise. “But I’m sure my husband will get it to you. Soon.”

“Really? He didn’t seem to think so.” The woman’s voice was low, sultry. It made Natasha’s mouth water, or maybe that was the way that the woman was massaging her breast, bordering on just rough enough to keep Nat from being too comfortable. “And if he’s not confident, what makes you so sure?”

“Faith.”

The word sounded hollow, even to Nat, and the woman above snorted.

“Your faith doesn’t come with a fuckton of money, does it? ‘Cause that’s what he owes me.” Her hand left Natasha’s breast, traveled further upwards to rub the soft skin of Natasha’s throat, thumb pressing on her larynx until Natasha’s breathing grew labored and her head felt light. Worst of all was the strange pooling of heat between her legs, starting in the very pit of her gut and turning into arousal at the very apex of her thighs.

“‘Fraid not,” Natasha rasped, fighting to keep her words even, to remember that she had experience with this sort of thing. Alexei liked to play his games, liked to think he owned her and required some sort of physical proof of it, mediocre though his performances always were. This? What this woman was doing to her was different.

Her hands skittered upwards, fingertips dancing through Natasha’s now less than immaculate hair, and undid the ties of the blindfold, pushing it away from her eyes. Nat blinked quickly a couple times, the light from above no means horribly bright but still overwhelming from the dark of the blindfold. Hell of a fabric, whatever it was made out of. Brown eyes framed by long lashes stared down at her, blinking slowly as thin lips twisted into a small smile.

“You’ve got a certain knack for this, don’t you? Surprising. Most women don’t enjoy it.”

“Well, I’m going to disappoint you if you’re looking for most women,” Natasha couldn’t help but biting out, her confidence restored now that she could see and take stock of everything. She’d been right about the hotel, and it was a pretty nice one at that. For someone waiting to be repaid ten-thousand dollars she sure had expensive tastes.

The woman laughed, surprised, and stepped over around the edge of the bed. Natasha followed her with her eyes, moving her body and pulling her arms back into her lap as she sat up against the headboard. “I’m Sif, and you’re Natasha--.”

“Romanoff,” she said quickly. “I don’t need that filth of a husband’s last name ruining my own reputation.”

“And you’ve got a mouth on you. I can appreciate that.” Sif moved to the very edge of the room, pulling up a dufflebag and unzipping it. From within, she pulled out a couple of black ropes, much like the ones already wrapped around Nat’s wrists and knees.

“Are you going to tie me up further?” Natasha asked, one eyebrow rising when Sif turned to face her again, palming the black material, sliding her fingers up and down its length. Lovingly, almost.

“Might gag you if you I didn’t want to see what your pretty mouth could do.”

That made Nat smirk, tongue darting out to run over her bottom lip slowly, making sure to watch as Sif’s eyes followed the movement. “Why don’t you untie me and I’ll show you?”

“I don’t think you need your hands and legs to prove it to me.”

Nat felt her breath catch in her throat, watched as Sif’s pupils dilated as she stepped closer, the rope moved to the side of the bed. Quicker than Nat could catch, a knife darted out from between Sif’s fingertips and cut the bindings from around her knees, stretching them out and anchoring them to either end of the bed. The blade flicked the band of her panties as well, Sif sliding them out from under her and tossing them to the side.

“You won’t be needing those. Not for a long time,” Sif promised. She ran the dull edge of the blade up along Natasha’s inner thigh and the chill of the metal, the danger and fact that she had to trust her abductor to not kill her sent a thrill up her spine. She just hoped that she wasn’t misjudging how valuable she actually was. With her legs already spread, Sif moved herself up closer to where Natasha’s face had been repositioned on the six or seven fluffed up pillows that’d come with the enormous bed. Her hands were pressed to her abdomen, and held there as Sif shimmied out of her shorts. Natasha felt her heart speed up, the reality of what she imagined was coming hitting her. Her palms broke out in a cold sweat though she determinedly kept her face blank of anything that could be held against her.

“You’d better not disappoint me,” Sif said, the threat hardly registering before she positioned her slit just above Natasha’s mouth, digging her hands into the redhead’s hair and grinding against her lips. Reflexively, Natasha’s tongue pressed out and up, finding her clit and swirling around until Sif began to shiver. Soft moans fell from her parted lips, and she looked down just as Natasha looked up.

“Wouldn’t have thought Alexei had a cunt,” Sif breathed, a laugh escaping her parted lips as she dipped her head backwards and moaned once more. The sound turned throaty as Natasha applied suction, running the tip of her tongue flat against her lips before pressing it into her. Sif bucked her hips in time with it, urging Nat to go deeper, and Natasha responded by arching her neck and scraping her teeth ever-so gently along the woman’s clit.

Sif shouted, her back arching above, as Natasha fucked her with her tongue and without mercy. Alexei always had other diversions to keep his attention, his little business ventures never requiring Nat’s presence, and so Nat had found others who learned how to please her, and taught her how to please them. She used every trick in the book on Sif, and the woman’s moans filled the room. After her first orgasm she rolled off atop of Nat, gasping for breath, wide-eyes glazed over, and Natasha licked her lips slowly to catch every last drop of her arousal and come possible.

Any panic or nerves that she’d felt before had disappeared, though she wasn’t sure how or why. Still, if this was what the woman had in mind, well, Nat didn’t have it in her to complain. The bindings around her wrists were uncomfortable but nothing she couldn’t handle. Nothing she didn’t, admittedly, enjoy. Sif caught her licking her lips clean and moaned, surging forward to press her lips against Natasha’s, making the taste something shared between the pair of them.

“Your turn,” Sif said once she managed to pull away, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Nat squirmed in her bindings, wet already from having pleased Sif.

“Alright, but don’t disappoint me,” she said in mock seriousness, imitating Sif’s high expectations from before. It earned her a slap on the inner thigh as Sif positioned herself between her already spread legs. A loud moan left her lips before she dove in, applying the same enthusiasm that Natasha had, and pumping two fingers inside of Nat slowly to help work her up all the faster.

But Natasha wasn’t going to make it that easy. Her breath came in short gasps, her vision was growing fuzzy around the edges, and still she managed to bite out: “Really? That’s all you’ve got? I’d have thought you’d have much more--experience,” the word broke off as Sif pressed a third finger into her sopping wet core, angling them upwards so that Natasha’s back bowed and she squeezed her eyes shut as her head tipped back.

“I’m rethinking not gagging you,” Sif growled as she pulled her mouth away from Natasha’s slit. “You keep it up and I just might.”

“You’re enjoying it. You would’ve gagged me already if you didn’t want me bossing you around,” Natasha guessed, putting enough force behind her words to make it seem like she knew what she was talking about. “Or find a different way to shut me up, Sif.”

That earned her another slap to the inside of her thigh with Sif’s free hand, before the fingers that had been teasing her to the edge of orgasm were pulled out. Nat nearly shouted. Shit, no. She didn’t want it to be done! Had she guessed wrong?

Sif hardly made a noise as she slipped off the bed, the lack of warmth and pressure of her body against Nat’s making Natasha recoil in displeasure, and her eyes watched as Sif walked back towards the door. Nat’s teeth worried at her bottom lip. Shit. She really had done it this time, hadn’t she?

Her captor bowed out of her line of sight, the small hallway wall hiding whatever it was she was doing. Nat listened all the harder, hearing rustling amidst the speeding thumps of her heart.

A strap-on, complete with a thick, jet-black dildo and a small bottle of lube was not what she’d expected. Sif positioned it around her hips, her eyes holding Natasha’s stare the whole time. Promising a great deal more than what Nat would’ve thought she had coming. So this whole thing had been planned out, at least the sex part. She released her bottom lip only when she tasted blood from biting down so hard, and Sif crawled back to where she’d been between Nat’s legs.

“Still want to get lippy with me?” Sif asked, uncapping the bottle of lube and squeezing a dollop onto her fingertips. She smoothed it over the thick head of the dildo, eyes flicking upwards to watch Natasha’s face go from determined concentration, brow furrowed and breath shortened, to an attempt at cool indifference. Nat wasn’t doing so well.

“Depends. You gonna fuck me quiet?”

“I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

Fair enough.

Sif placed the bottle onto the ground before taking her lube coated fingers and slipping them inside of Natasha once more, three at a time. Her wrist moved so quickly Nat hardly had time to prepare herself, the pads of Sif’s fingers brushing hard against her g-spot until Nat was keening in pleasure. Sif alternated between scissoring her fingers, opening Nat further, and assaulting the swollen walls of her cunt, determined to wring every last sound from Natasha’s mouth possible. It was working, Nat feeling her throat already going hoarse as she ground herself on Sif’s hand. When she stopped and slid her fingers out, replacing them with the head of the thick cock, Nat was grateful for the mercy shown to her. It was huge, far bigger than Alexei, and she whimpered as Sif pressed it into her inch by glorious inch. Only when it was fully seated inside her, and Sif was close enough to kiss her way down Natasha’s exposed throat, did she pause and allow Natasha a moment to catch her breath.

“Not so loud now, are you?”

Natasha barely stopped herself from snorting, and the noise transformed into a moan as Sif bucked her hips ever-so slightly. “If you fuck me stupid like you promised I might be.”

The dark haired woman grinned, pulling away from the fresh hickies that coated the junction of Nat’s throat and shoulders, and rolled her hips slowly, getting Natasha used to the push and pull of the cock within her. Every thrust was a blessing, and every withdrawal had her clenching her body around it, determined to keep as much of that delicious pressure and friction as she could.

“C’mon, faster,” Nat begged, digging her heels into the mattress as best she could so her hips rose from the surface of the bed and brought the pair of them closer. Sif sat up swiftly, one of her hands coming to rest on Nat’s windpipe, the other bracing her on Natasha’s hip.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Sif growled, though to her credit her hips snapped, hard, against Natasha’s. The force made Nat shout. “You’re mine right now, you hear me? I’m calling the shots.”

“So prove it to me. Fuck me,” Nat bit, her tone acidic though she was grateful to have found what it was that Sif responded to. If she’d upped her game enough to bring this bad boy out, what would she have in store for Nat if she continued to get lippy?

It was a mercy that Sif was done playing around, it seemed, spurned on by Natasha’s words. Her hips sped up, and every crack of their skin meeting one another sent delicious shivers down Nat’s spine, wishing she could pull her legs free and dig her heels into the small of Sif’s back to encourage her to go faster. Her whining and writhing just beneath her seemed to be doing the trick, at least. Her thrusts were shallow, but just what Nat needed, her skin feeling like it was burning, as though Sif had set her alight. Combined with the applied pressure of Sif’s hand on her throat making the edges of her vision blurry it wasn’t long until Nat opened her mouth to scream, orgasm hitting her with all the force of a sucker punch in her abdomen. She convulsed beneath Sif, nails digging into her palms so hard it was a miracle she didn’t draw blood.

Above her, Sif grinned, slowing the pace down considerably as Natasha gasped great lungfuls of air. “Don’t tell me you’ve had enough tonight,” Sif purred, licking a long stripe up Natasha’s left breast. Goosebumps erupted in her wake. “We’re just getting started.”