Natasha kept telling herself that it was just a simple arrangement. Easy. Nothing she hadn't done a half dozen times before. Her fingers were firm as she tightened the belt around her middle for the third time in the last ten minutes, securing the solid black trench coat that covered up the front-zipped dress that ended just above her knees. Her eyes were calm as she watched the cab round the final corner, the lights of the swanky apartments filling the tall buildings they passed with a warmth she didn't usually see. She really ought to have checked out where it was she was going beforehand, she thought, as she dug the heel of her black patent leather peep-toe shoes into the floor of the cab. She'd agreed to meet the man, a Mr. Laufeyson, at his penthouse for a price that far surpassed the other clients she had in the past, so it was normal that her heart thudded a little harder in her chest, she supposed. Her phone sat warm in her jacket pocket. The agency was scheduled to call her within the hour, once she made contact with Mr. Laufeyson, and they had his address and his name on the books so if anything was to go wrong . . . it wouldn't take long for them to get to her. She had to remember that.

Besides, where was life without a little fun? She had so many boring clients, that maybe one who left her guessing was just what she needed.

Her tongue wetted her lips as she felt the car beginning to slow down, teeth sinking into her full bottom lip to fatten it further and give it a little more natural color. Lipstick just got messy and she didn't want to deal with that that evening. Already she was second guessing whether or not she'd picked the right shade of lingerie. He'd worn an emerald green waistcoat for their first meeting, was it reading into it too much if her balconette and garters matched?

Calm down, Romanoff, she thought. Her eyes closed as she took a deep, slow breath, counting internally to five, holding for two, then releasing it as the cab came to a stop just outside one of the enormous townhouses right off one of the main streets. She'd been a call girl of her own decision for three years, and never before had a John given her such crazy butterflies in her stomach. With a muted smile she handed over her cab fare plus a healthy tip to the man behind the wheel, mostly because he hadn't given her a lecherous grin as she'd slid into his backseat when he picked up, and he'd kept his eyes resolutely on the streets in front of him the whole drive. It was a rare find, but she was grateful for it.

"Will you still be on duty in a couple hours?" She asked, one foot already out the door, the heel of her shoe pressed against the sidewalk.

"Yea, should be." He gave a one shouldered shrug. "I've got a card-'ere." He handed her a small, waxy business card, his name emblazoned on the front followed by a phone number. She pocketed it, and her smile widened as he wished her a good evening before she stepped out. The chill of the evening set her skin with gooseflesh, even through the pale stockings that she'd rolled up her freshly shaved legs not an hour before. The wind rippling down the street, chasing dry autumn leaves was her only companion as she clacked slowly up the concrete stairs to 610, and her knuckles rapped sharply against the solid wooden door. To the cabbie's-What kind of a name is Gray?-credit he stayed until she heard footsteps on the other side of the door, followed by the snick of the deadbolt leaving its place and the door shifted open.

He was wearing the same green waistcoat, she was pleased to see, over a black button down with the sleeves rolled up and oh she'd forgotten how tall he was. Even with her high-heels she had to look up at him, her lips spreading in an easy smile as his green eyes descended slowly over her figure.

"Natasha?" He asked, the lilt in his voice even more gorgeous this time around.

"Unless you're expecting another gorgeous red-head to show up at your doorstep?" She winked, grateful when his body trembled with a soft laugh before he stepped to the side to allow her entrance. "A pleasure to see you again Mr. Laufeyson,"

"Loki, please."

"Loki, then." She offered him her best smile. The heat of the well decorated room put her body at ease, relaxing her muscles enough that she could actually feel comfortable as she settled to stand on one side of the entrance. The walls were a burnished gold that seemed to shift in depth when she turned her head, as though it was moving of its own volition. A steep, polished wood staircase led to an upstairs that was just out of sight, while the rest of the room seemed to lead towards a living room and what she could only assume would be a kitchen. The whole house smelled, surprisingly, delicious. Of something spicy and garlicky, as though he'd just been cooking. It hadn't been part of the bargain, dinner with a happy ending-he'd only paid for the latter-so she put that idea out of her head, thanking him instead when he offered to take her jacket. The phone, provided to her by her agency and strictly for calls to and from their personal security or the front desk, stayed with her. Her fingers had been mercifully steady when she'd untied the belt from around her waist, and she could feel his eyes growing all the more heated as they skimmed the very bottom of her skirt, where the edge of her garters was just barely visible beneath the hem of her black dress. It charged the atmosphere between them, and her stomach flopped as he turned to hang up her coat and afforded her an excellent view of his backside in the fitted black trousers he'd chosen. Not bad, not bad at all. She might even come to enjoy this more than her average engagement.

"Would you prefer my heels stay on or off?" She asked, her voice soft, not wishing to step through his house with them on if he was picky about it. She had hopes to start the evening off on a good foot. No pun intended.

"Off is fine." He assured her. His arms folded across his chest as she knelt lower to undo the straps around her ankles and slide off the heels, lowering herself a good three or so inches so when she'd finished and turned to face him her neck already had a crick in it. Could he get any taller? She certainly hoped not.

"I do hope you're hungry." He beckoned her to follow him through the door, and her mind switched gears.

"Ah, sure. Of course. I didn't know you were planning on cooking. I would've brought a bottle of wine if I had." She shot him a small, apologetic smile as she tried to readjust her expectations. So it might take longer than the hour she had been anticipating, but she didn't have any other plans for the night, and her next appointment was later in the afternoon tomorrow. She had the time to spare. He led the way through the darkened living room (she'd been right after all), to the kitchen where he'd already set up a couple of places on opposite sides of a dark oak circular table. It felt intimate, the overhead lights dimmed, the food already on the table, a bottle of red in an Italian label already uncorked. She'd have to make a detour to grab the strong gum out of her other coat pocket before they took things to the bedroom to make sure her breath wasn't too terrible. He pulled out her chair for her, and she accepted it with a smile, her stomach turning rock hard as she surveyed the pasta piled and gleaming even with the dim light between them. It wasn't possible he'd laced it with anything, was it? She set the discreet phone on the side of the table so she wouldn't drop it on account of her palms sweating so bad, and thanked him as he poured her a glass of wine. She didn't drink from it until she watched him take a sip and swallow it, and even then she took her sweet time, swirling the contents in the glass and inhaling deeply. It was rich, well aged. She'd tasted her fair share of wines, and he certainly knew a thing or two about them. Judging by the scent of the food he'd prepared, how spicy it was, the two ought to go well together.

Color her mildly impressed.

As with the wine she'd waited until he'd taken a bite or two of the food before passing any of it past her lips, humming appreciatively at the taste. It wasn't so spicy that she had to guzzle water, but the fire at the back of her tongue was pleasant enough to make her shiver.

"While I'm very grateful for dinner, I do hope you didn't feel obligated to offer me any food. It wasn't within the evening agreement that was drafted up for the pair of us." She said after the first couple minutes had passed silently between them, filled only with the gentle clatter of silverware and the clink of the wine glasses being placed back down on the wooden table. She needed to know whether or not he expected more from her, expected above and beyond service. Not that she wasn't willing to give it, but it would affect his opinion of her if he had made this with the intent to get more than he'd paid for.

Not that there wasn't much he couldn't do given the amount he'd paid. Still.

"No, of course not. I thought this might set the pair of us at ease."

So he hadn't done it before. Curious. She'd have taken him to be a veteran as calm and collected as he was about the whole situation, but she supposed he could be just as good an actor as she. Maybe not as good but getting there, she corrected herself.

"Of course. Well I appreciate it. You're an excellent cook, and the wine is delicious."

"Thank you." He raised his own glass, as though it'd all been planned, and she followed suit. "To a pleasant evening."

"A pleasant evening." She couldn't help but smile. It was endearing, and easy to slip into the idea that this was nothing out of the ordinary, as though they'd done this half a dozen times before. Every man had a certain tell, a kink that they liked or a scenario that they fell back on and enjoyed the most. She would have to figure out Loki's. He'd already paid extra for the usage of bondage, and had requested a list of her soft and hard limits, so she could imagine what sort of kinks he had . . . but what scenario was he going for? An evening out with a submissive, perhaps? She hadn't exactly dressed the part of a Domme, though she could ease into it if he desired. She cast her eyes down and onto her plate after having taken a drink of her wine, her actions bordering on demure to a fault, when she heard the sound of his chair being pushed back from the table, and his footsteps echoed as they came closer. Her breath grew baited, but she didn't look up at him until he pressed to fingers under her chin to raise her head. His pupils had dilated considerably, and she could already make out the faint outline of his cock beneath his black trousers.

"You are good at this, aren't you? They told me you were the very best in the agency." His voice had gone quiet, spiking her blood pressure with anticipation. So they weren't going to be eating for very long. She doubted she'd have time to grab her gum, dammit all. Well, it was his bloody choice to cook this, anyway. He'd have to suffer the consequences. His thumb stroked the side of her cheek gently, the pad of his digit soft against hers, and her lips parted in the softest breath as she stared up at him from under her eyelashes. His own mouth was pressed into a thin line, and every muscle in his body was relax, though his eyes were tense. Did he expect her to stop him? Hardly breathing, she shifted her head to the side, neck exposed to his, and her eyes shot down once more. It didn't get much more submissive than that. She was rewarded with a soft, cut off groan that spilled from his thin lips before he wrapped an arm around her arm and tugged her upwards.

"Is your safeword the same as on the sheet you'd provided me?"

Pineapple, it didn't get any stranger than that.

"Yes, of course. Is there a title you'd prefer . . . sir?" She asked and her eyes hardly met his for longer than a half second. He'd moved her so that his body was pressed against hers, and she could feel his cock twitch against her thigh, already thick with blood. That was her favorite part about this job. The sex was generally great, and she loved the constant stream of orgasms she got throughout her week-it really was almost too good to believe she got paid to come-but seeing, and feeling the arousal? Knowing it was her that had done this to the men who visited her? All it took were a couple of strategic words, a flash of cleavage or her tongue rolling over her bottom lip and their attention was all hers. For that hour or so they were hers. There wasn't anything else in the world as intoxicating as that knowledge.

"Sir will work just fine." He said. His hands had wrapped around her wrists and even if she hadn't been looking she'd have been able to tell he was giving her another slow once over, the heat of his attention burying deep in her blood. One of his long-fingered hands moved to take the zipper and with a swift jerk of his arm he'd undone the entire thing, pushing it off of her and onto the floor. She fought against her instinct to cover herself up, not having been told she could, and though the threat of what he would do was a sweet temptation she didn't think it wise to push him just yet. Not without discovering what it was he truly wanted. His left hand cupped one of her breasts through the fabric of her green bra, massaging it just hard enough to make her gasp, as his right hand's fingers traced intricate, incomprehensible patterns up and down her shoulder blades before trailing to the small of her back. Goosebumps rose under his touch, and he let out a soft hiss as his fingers found the frills of her emerald garter.

"Good god, you are worth every penny," he hissed, surging closer to kiss her hard. His tongue pressed into her mouth before she could think otherwise, and beneath him she groaned.

"Touch me," he growled against her lips, granting her the freedoms to explore the flat planes of his own body. She longed to reach up and under his shirt, to undo the buttons of his waistcoat and rip that black button up off of him as easily as he'd ripped her dress from her, but patience. She needed to let the anticipation make his mind go blank, rather than succumbing to it herself. His hips rocked against hers, and now she could feel him right where she wanted him, the outline of his cock rubbing against her already soaked slit. A whimper escaped from her lips to his before she could help it, and he grinned to hear it.

"Good girl." He spread his kisses down past her lips, his back hunching over as he trailed them up the line of her jaw and to her ear. "You are going to be my good girl, aren't you?"

"Yes sir," she managed to gasp, keeping her head as level as she could. One of his hands had worked its way downwards and stroked her through the silk of her black panties, teasing her soaked slit until it pushed aside the fabric and sank to the knuckle inside her. The breath rushed from her lungs in a muffled gasp, a moan snaking its way out with it as her hands gripped him hard on his shoulders. Lazily, he pumped the finger in and out of her, bending it to rub the pad of his finger against her g-spot until her knees went weak and he had to help her stand up. All the while he murmured in her ear how good she was, how tight she felt around him. How he was going to sink his cock into her until she lost her voice for screaming. He added a second finger to emphasize it, and his pace picked up as he worked her into a soft, mewling mess. Her legs had very nearly gone out again, so he held her all the tighter by the waist and fingerfucked her where she stood.

"Don't come." He slowed his pace just as her body had begun to tighten and her breath had shortened to gasps that had started to suck the color out of her vision. She clamped down around his fingers, whimpering as he pulled them from her and replaced her panties where they had been before. She didn't have to see her reflection to know that she looked utterly debauched, her lips hanging open, reddened and thick from kissing, the color high in her cheeks and her eyes glazed with desire. He brought his arousal-soaked fingers up into her mouth, and she sucked them clean with vigor, bobbing her head as she swallowed the digits and rolled her tongue around them. It was his turn to groan at the impressive display, his turn for his knees to weaken and for his breathing to grow labored.

"Enough." He pulled his fingers from her mouth, and she gave a soft keen of disappointment. "Or I'll end up taking you right here on the floor, and I have such plans for you, Natasha."

Good. She liked plans. Plans, nine times out of ten, resulted in her orgasming, and after he'd been such a cocktease with her she was eager to come. She tried not to preen with pleasure.

"Go up the stairs, and take the last door on the left. There'll be a small black box on the bed. Put that on. I'll be up in a moment." He assured her, leaning in to kiss her once more. They shared her taste between the two of them, cut short only by the ringing of her phone on the table. Oh, right. She'd nearly forgotten.

She offered him an apologetic smile as she pulled away. "Sorry, policy. Just half a second."

"Of course."

So he'd done the reading they'd provided explaining what that meant. Impressive. Most of her clients skipped right over it. Still, she picked up the phone, and smiled to hear Angelina on the other line.

"Everything going alright Natasha?"

"Yes, certainly. The party's going fabulously." There was no need for worry, in other words.

"Good to hear. Enjoy yourself." Angelina's voice was pleasant, despite the hour, and with a mumbled thanks Natasha clicked off. There. Easy enough.

"Everything settled?" Loki asked. He'd edged himself over to the island counter, leaning back on it, long fingers wrapped around the black and grey granite top. He epitomized cool and collected, as though she hadn't felt him hard and wanting against her body just half a minute ago. She nodded, depositing the phone back onto the table top. Then, without another word between them she hurried upstairs, the padding of her stocking covered feet echoing through the house as she quickened her pace. She had to keep the customer happy, but more than that she wanted him to be happy.

Why?

She wasn't going to look into that. Not right then.

There were fifteen stairs and she was proud of herself for not tripping over a single one of them in her haste to get to the very top. She didn't imagine he was a patient man, and she was eager to see what it was he had planned for her. Last door on the left. It was already ajar, and with sure fingers she pushed it open only to stop dead in her tracks. The house up until this point had been lovely, yes, but she'd seen many a nice home when she'd been hunting for an apartment of her own-but this was lush to an extreme. The green sheets and comforter looked like they would be silk, adoring the four-poster bed that was larger than she would've thought would have fit in his apartment, and as before the walls were the same similar gold. The light in the sconce above set the walls on fire, but she kept it dimmed. As he'd said there was a small box on the very edge of the bed in a black box, and her heart sped up as she took it in her hand and opened it up. A blindfold. Simple, black silk, followed by instructions for her to lay on the bed on a small card just beneath it. Her palms began to sweat in anticipation and she couldn't help but grin as she set the box on the bedside table and laid down on the sumptuous sheets. Looking up, she noticed that there were two black bands of fabric on the top posts, and that widened her grin further. Bondage could be fun, and it certainly wasn't anything she wasn't familiar with. She relaxed and closed her eyes before she slid the silk over her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. She filled her ears with it, and the sound of the silent room around her, waiting in anticipating for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs.

Except she didn't hear him, not on the stairs, not pushing the door wider open, not breathing, as though he was focusing on everything he could to ensure that he remained silent. So when his hands wrapped around hers she actually did give a start, her body jolting with the realization that he was right there above her. He laughed, and the sound invaded the space around her, to such a degree that she half considered removing the blindfold and making sure there weren't half a dozen of him surrounding her. Wouldn't that be a thought?

"Relax, I didn't mean to frighten you," he assured her with a smile in his voice. She felt his fingers thread through her hair, tugging on it ever-so slightly so that she turned her head towards it, following the movement of his hand. "You're such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, just for you sir." She assured him, undulating her hips forward and trying not to focus on just how real it felt when her breath caught in her throat. That was getting into dangerous territory, and she didn't do that sort of thing. No way, no how. The bed shifted with his weight as he came to kneel on either side of her body, his hips straddling her torso. His hands danced up her torso to cup her breasts, massaging them once more through the fabric as Natasha's lips parted in a shocked gasp. She liked that a great deal and made sure that he knew it while she was allowed to remain vocal. He didn't mind her broken moans, taking his time sliding the straps of her bra over her shoulders and down her arms. The soft satin was so familiar, Natasha having worn it before, but now it felt luxurious, the sensation heightened so that her head spun, and the cold air on her bared breasts once he'd done away with the garment entirely forced the breath from her lungs entirely.

"Give me your arms darling." He said, already wrapping his hands around her delicate wrists and positioning them where he wished. She let him, shuddering as the silk was tied around her skin, the binding tight enough that when she experimentally tugged she didn't get further than an inch or so.

She didn't think she'd regret this but the panic began in the hollow of her gut anyway. Blindfolded, arms bound. She was confident that if she had enough time she would be able to slide her wrists out of the bindings. If things went very poorly, however, there wouldn't be time enough for her.

He sensed her tension and in the middle of tying her second wrist he brought his lips to her left temple. "Hey, relax. I give you my word that nothing will happen. You remember your safe word?"

"Pineapple."

"Exactly. If you feel like you cannot take any more say that and I'll undo you. We'll figure it out from there."

But that might mean she'd have to give back the generous commission that had already fattened up her bank account. She swallowed her fear with a smile she forced herself to feel to the bone. She'd done this before, and even if it had been at her own home, she reminded herself that her employers knew that she was there. She was safe. Her limbs softened, and he groaned in her ear, telling her how proud he was. She preened with the praise.

He continued his slow exploration of her body, and without being able to touch him of her own volition, and without being able to see, her brain was being forced into overdrive from the sensations. His mouth was warm when he'd suckled on her breasts, a perfect mix of tongue and teeth that shortened her breath and made her clit throb with need. His kisses continued downward, teeth scraping at the underside of her breasts before his lips passed over her ribs with light, delicate touches that burned her all the more. His right hand ghosted over her hip, playing with the edge of her panties until he finally took to slipping them down her swollen sex and past her legs. Her garters he kept on, along with the silk stockings that he kissed in reverence.

She hadn't pegged him to be so bloody considerate and slow when it came to this part, having anticipated that he'd fuck her as often as he could manage and send her on her way. Instead this strange, methodical cataloguing set a slow burn in the base of her gut, flamed even hotter by the way he murmured her name against her skin. A reverent prayer of sorts, she supposed, not about to question why or for how long when it was so enjoyable.

Still, there was only so long she could wait. Her legs hooked around his waist when she heard the clink of his buckle being undone, her arms pulling at her bindings as her fingers longed to undress him far quicker than he seemed to deem necessary.

"Are you desperate yet, Natasha?" He asked, voice dipping low as she felt warm breath ghosting over her exposed sex. She whimpered. His tongue flicked out, rolled over her exposed clit and sucked hard enough to make her shout. Her heels dug into the soft comforter, planting themselves to keep from bucking up and into the attention he was giving her.

"Yes-please, please sir I need you so badly." She couldn't find a lie within her own voice, and was surprised by the aching truth of it all. "Sir please."

She thought she might explode when he pulled his mouth away from her, the pressure and heat of his tongue and lips leaving along with the groan of disbelief that fell from her lips. She didn't have to wait long, though, and even as he told her to keep perfectly still as he undressed she felt herself beginning to fidgit. She could hear the rustling of cloth, could feel the heat of his body that much closer to her as the bed shifted around her, but it didn't prepare her for the sudden press of his flesh against her own, for the press of his cock against her entrance and oh. He filled her with one, sweet thrust-finally-until their hips met and her back nearly broke with how it arched.

His palm swatted her now exposed backside, bringing a breathless cry from her throat. "I told you to stay still. Didn't I?"

She whimpered as he pulled himself out, then pressed back in just as smoothly as he had before. She very nearly nodded, but caught herself just in time to stammer out: "Y-yes, of course. I'm sorry, sir."

Fingers found her throat and wrapped gently around them. Her heart sped up. "Then be my good girl and listen to me. Wrap your legs around my hips. Good." He hiked them up further, and pulled out inch by inch until just the tip of him remained within her. Her muscles tensed, desperate for the pressure he was denying her, the sweet sensation of being filled, but she didn't move. Her body trembled, her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to keep from begging him, but she didn't move.

His quiet laugh was that of appreciation. "Now, be a good girl and fuck yourself on my cock, won't you?"

So that was the game, then. Blinded to just how she was supposed to do that, she tightened her legs around his hips and managed to drag herself down onto his dick, then pulled herself back up by using the silk ties around her wrists. It wasn't near as satisfying as when he fucked into her, but it would do, and if she angled her hips just right-. The fat head of his cock brushed against her g-spot, and her body tightened around him, swallowing up an extra inch as she rolled her hips. Above her, braced on his hands, given how much further away his voice sounded, her client hissed and groaned through clenched teeth.

"God, you feel so fucking good. C'mon, faster now." He ordered and one of his hands reached out to stroke the soft swell of her hip, cupping a handful of her backside, before stabilizing itself just beside her shoulder.

Her thighs already burned, her cheeks joining them as she whined and tried to pick up the pace as quickly as she could. It was agony, heat and agony as she worked herself up and down as best she could manage in the awkward position, her head tipped backwards and teeth gritted as she felt herself getting closer to climax. The way his body tightened above hers proved she wasn't alone.

"Is that the very best you can do?" He goaded. His teeth nipped at her throat and her pace stuttered as a result, her hips shifting once again to try and take him deeper.

"N-no, sir. I'll do better."

"Beg me and I'll give you what you need."

That was tempting. Her muscles would thank her for it in the morning, but something in the lilt of his voice, the tightness in it that made her want to try all the harder. She gave a low growl and planted her feet on the bedspread to gain better traction. If it wasn't for all those years doing yoga she might not have been able to pull this off, and with the sweat that soaked their bodies it made it all the easier for her to slide further down his body and bury him deep within her. He gasped, as surprised as she was that she'd managed it, and Natasha grinned as she picked up her pace. He filled her so wonderfully. She'd had her fair share of promising lovers, from the well endowed, the too well endowed, to the less blessed, and none of them had ever made her work for her pleasure like this, let alone make her like it. But Loki? Every so often he'd tilt his hips further into her, just the slightest of nudges as she worked hard to make him come, tightened around him to ensure both of their maximum pleasure, and each concession he granted her made her vision white out and her body ripple with the aftershocks of pleasure.

"Talk to me, dear girl," he growled as he took the lobe of her ear in between his teeth and nipped at it. "Tell me how this feels. I want to hear your lovely voice."

"It's-you feel so good, sir." She gasped, wetting her dry lips and turning her face to offer him better access as she whimpered. "I love the feel of you inside me-filling me. Oh, God it's so good. I need more, please. I'm going to come-can I come, sir? Please?" It wasn't a lie. She didn't see herself faking it with him, didn't need to.

"Come for me, then. If you can make yourself do it, do it." He hissed the last two words. The command was just enough to send her over an edge she didn't know she was so close to, and as she pushed herself back down onto him, filling her cunt with his solid body, she convulsed beneath him and shouted his name. Her back arched, breasts pressed hard against his chest, and he thrust into her of his own volition. She felt the bed shifting around her, felt his lips leave her ear as his hands moved to take her by the hips and slam into her with enough force to knock her bones out of alignment. Still, it wasn't enough. Her wrists ached as he urged her to lay back, and positioned her legs up and around his shoulders. The new angle drove his cockhead right against her g-spot again, the battering of it breaking her voice as she tried to call out to him and beg for more above the sound of their flesh slapping against one another

"You're so good for me, darling. So good. Dammit I'm going to fuck you through this fucking mattress, I swear." He hissed, fingers bruising her hips as he slammed her back onto him over, and over again. Her second orgasm coiled deep in her gut as his body tightened above her. It wouldn't be long, not long at all, and she whimpered and pleaded for him until her throat went raw and her fingers nearly cut through her palm from digging her nails into her skin. It didn't take him much longer than that, and as his hips pressed hard into hers and he shouted her name loud enough that it still rang in her ears she found herself joining him, the second orgasm hitting even harder than the first. She'd never had that, not with a client before, and certainly not untouched. Her body went slack as he filled her so much that his come began to leak out of her body, and she whimpered at the sensation.

His forehead pressed against hers, and with a murmur he told her that he was going to remove the blindfold. She nodded, mute, and as his fingers slowly slipped the silk up and off of her face she was grateful for having left the lights on dim. His pupils were so large there was little more than a ring of green around them, and sweat had made strands of hair cling to his forehead and temple while color clung to his cheeks, a testament to just how wrecked he was. She wondered what she looked like as she blinked quickly and adjusted her vision even in the dim lights.

"I wish I could've seen your eyes as you came," he whispered as he dipped his face closer to kiss her. She received it, tongue lazily finding his and whimpering when he sucked on her bottom lip.

"There's always a next time," she assured him, voice hoarse and smile perhaps a little too cheeky for their situation. The grin on his face told her he certainly hoped so.

Half an hour later she'd been freed from her soft bonds, rubbing at where the skin had reddened and walking down the stairs on weak knees. Her bra had been redone a little haphazardly, courtesy of Loki having kissed her neck and distracting her until she wasn't sure if he was going to try taking her another time or actually let her out, and she zipped her dress back up once she got back to the kitchen. Their food had long gone cold, though Loki offered her the rest of the bottle of wine if she wanted to take it back with her, or more food.

She bit her lip as she turned around to look at him. "You are a curiosity, aren't you?" She tipped her head to the side and pressed onto her tiptoes so she could kiss him. Slowly, languidly taking her time as she felt him shiver underneath her. She wondered if he had a submissive bone in his body, and if he'd be willing to let her try it out some time. That would keep her there if she thought about it anymore, and so instead she lowered herself back down to her heels and shook her head.

"That's very sweet, but I suppose you'll just have to have me back another time so I can try more of your excellent cooking."

"You're an excellent salesman, darling." He said with a laugh of admiration. "Perhaps I will. You have a ride?"

"I'll give him a call right now." She assured him, taking back her phone from the table to dial Gray's number and hope that he was still on duty. If not she had another she could call, though she'd have liked to help him out.

"And you're sure I cannot persuade you to stay any longer?" He asked, running his hand down her forearm, even as they both started walking towards the door, Natasha collecting her shoes and sliding them back on. She caught Loki staring at them, tongue flicking out to run over his bottom lip. Next time, she promised herself.

"I can be persuaded just about anything if the price is right." She told him, an unfortunate truth, but a reality in her industry. One he ought to remember. It quirked the corners of his lips, and he hastened to step to the side where her coat had been hung up. From the pocket of one of his own he pulled a wallet, thick with bills, and offered her a handful.

She looked it over slowly, unsure what exactly he meant by this. It was a fourth of what she'd been offered for an evening.

"A tip." He said with a laugh of his own. "You have a point. I have to leave something to look forward to."

She smiled and accepted the bills with a smile of her own, stuffing them into her coat pocket after he'd helped her into it. "Thank you, Loki."

He nodded, keeping silent as she dialed Gray's number, and he assured her that he'd have no problem picking her up, already in the area. Lucky for her. Before she left she kissed Loki once more, her hand moving to cup the back of his neck, taking control of the kiss this time as she explored his mouth. He was breathless when she pulled away at the sound of the horn just outside, eyes glazed, and there was a new saunter in her step as she bade him a good night and squeezed herself out the door. More for his imagination indeed.

A/N: Hello! So, I've been meaning to write this for quite a long time, and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of what will eventually become a longer piece of work. When it will be updated I can't say, but eventually it will be. As for now, this'll stand as a one shot until I can get the time to finish some of my other works, and focus more on this.

A huge pair of shout outs go to SelinaKyle on AO3 for inspiring this with her own Adult Industry fic, and Jessy for introducing me to Billie Piper's show Diary of a Call Girl which is fabulous.

As ever thank you for reading!