Stirring restlessly in the bed, her mind foggy with sleep, Sif's eyes slowly blinked open, puzzled by what had awoken her.
She thought she'd heard what sounded like soft footfalls, coming from beyond the bedroom door.
But now, there was no sound to be heard, other than her own heartbeat thudding loudly in her ears.

The illuminated hands of the clock that sat on the nightstand beside the bed read 4:00am
Dismissing the sound, she rolled over in an attempt to go back to sleep but then inexplicably began to feel as though she was being watched.
Peering into the darkness, desperately trying to focus, she suddenly felt the presence of someone lay behind her in the bed.
She sensed them, their body radiating heat and she could hear the sound of soft breathing.
She lay there frozen, unable to move despite desperately wanting to do so.
They moved closer to her now, pressing up against her, making her heart race.
She didn't need to see, she could sense it was him...
Who else could it be?

She felt his cool breath on her neck, and the familiar intoxicating scent of him.
Then, she felt his large, heavy hand on her waist, pulling her into him so that her rear was firmly placed against his groin. She felt the steely hardness of him, which caused a stifled gasp to escape her suddenly dry mouth.
She had to move, she had to escape....but her body was utterly paralysed.
Even though she could feel the tingling sensation return to her skin as he gently used his long fingers to trace along the curve of her hip and then down her thigh, she still could not find the strength in her to move.

Or was it that she just didn't choose to?

"You secretly like it....admit it."
His velvet voice whispered huskily into her ear, as he slowly and rhythmically began rubbing himself against her.

"N-No..."
She managed, her voice no more than a feeble whimper.
Where had all of her strength gone? Why was she allowing this to happen?
She needed it to stop. Now.
"Loki, please...stop...I cannot allow this to happen."
She pleaded, desperately trying to ignore the unmistakable heat of arousal spreading throughout her trembling body.

"But you crave my forbidden embrace..."
He rasped, his breathing becoming increasingly heavy,
"...you belong to me now, Sif, and I can give you what you desire. It isn't Thor you hunger for, it is I....the wicked Loki."

At that, he brushed his lips against her neck, causing an elicit moan to escape her lips, startling herself so much that she jerked abruptly, and suddenly he was gone....

She sat up breathlessly, to find her legs tangled in the twisted sheets, and beads of sweat forming on her brow. Surveying her surroundings in the darkness, she reached out to switch on the bedside lamp.
Blinking through the glare, she was immensely relieved to see that the room, and more importantly, her bed, was empty save for herself.

It had all been nothing more than a disturbingly bad dream.

**************

When she awoke again, it was almost noon. Her mouth was incredibly dry and her head throbbed. She was seriously dehydrated.
In her haste to quench her thirst she chose to forgo getting dressed and went in search of a drink, still wearing the bath towel she'd fallen asleep in.

She'd been absolutely exhausted, due to recent lack of sleep and whilst she recalled having been awake and hearing Loki leave, she must have drifted off before he'd returned.
Padding downstairs to the kitchen, she took a glass tumbler off the counter and filled it with water.
She drained the glass in two gulps, and was just about to refill it again, when her eyes suddenly fell on something that made her hesitate.
Two wine glasses, still containing the dregs of red wine, stood abandoned on the counter next to the sink. One of which, was smeared with a red lip print.

Just then like a ghostly apparition, Loki appeared at the foot of the stairs, startling her.
In typical Loki fashion, she had neither heard or sensed his approach.
Wearing a dark grey suit and white shirt ensemble; which now appeared to be his preferred costume these days, he cut a striking figure. As much as it frustrated her to admit it.
Before she could  help herself, the unwanted memory of their heated moment in the wet room yesterday returned, causing her face to flush with shame.
Then she recalled the details of her sordid dream, which made her blush even more.
She hurriedly turned away, and continued to pour herself some more water.
Damn, her mouth was dry.

"Why are you still not dressed?"
He demanded gruffly.

"I have nothing to wear..."
She responded tersely, between sips,
"....you did not take me out to acquire new clothing. Have you forgotten?"

"As if you'd allow me to."
He grumbled, joining her in the kitchen area.

She quickly shot him a sideways glance and noted his expression was thunderous; his dark brows were drawn together in a deep scowl.
"I would rather you didn't walk around like that, go and put your armour on at once!"

"Why?"
She challenged, whirling around to face him,
"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

His eyes met hers and she noticed a peculiar gleam in them that was quite at odds with his cold tone.
"Not particularly..."
He lied grossly, his jaw perceptibly tightening.
"....however I can't vouch for how it'll make Laurel feel, seeing a scantily clad woman in my kitchen."

"Who?"
She frowned, and then with classic timing the sound of heels clattering down the stairs met her ears.

He turned hurriedly, firing a most dazzling smile in the direction of the slim brunette that was now sashaying towards him, wearing the tightest, shortest red dress that Sif had ever seen.
Even Amora herself wasn't that much of an exhibitionist.

Sif's eyes darted from him to her, processing that this, Laurel, must obviously have been his date.
She studied the woman's face and was suddenly struck by the startling resemblance of her features. This woman, looked an awful lot like herself.

"Luke, baby..."
She drawled, draping herself around Loki as though he were a clothes stand.
"...I really need to get going-"
She stilled abruptly, as if only noticing Sif for the first time.

Loki darted a glance at Sif, and gestured towards her dismissively with one of his large hands,
"Laurel, this is...S-Sofia.."

Sif glared at him angrily.
Sofia!?
But he hadn't finished lying yet.

"...she's....she's...my...sister."
He stammered, with a triumphant grin.

"Wha-"
Sif made to speak, but Loki cut her off immediately by snaking an arm around the unsuspecting woman's waist, and hastily began steering her out of the kitchen,

"Well, last night was wonderful darling, but you ought to be running along now, yes?"
He spoke smoothly as he harried her away.

Sif did not hear her response, as they'd now turned the corner towards the front door.
She was furious. Absolutely fucking furious. And she hated that word immensely, but right now it certainly seemed a fitting opportunity to use it.

When Loki sauntered back in alone, she would've very much enjoyed throwing her glass at him.....but she couldn't. She wasn't able to break anything that belonged to him.
For a moment, she pondered over whether or not Laurel fitted into that category.

"What?"
He asked, feigning innocence.

"You've got some nerve....Luke!"
She hissed, impaling him with her stare.

"I have to use a pseudonym whilst I'm here, Loki isn't exactly a common name....but at least Luke is as near to the anglicised equivalent as I'm going to get.."

"I don't particularly give a damn what you call yourself, or what web of lies you weave silver tongue, but don't entangle me in it!"

The right corner of his mouth crooked up, although he didn't look amused,
"Sif, kindly shut up would you? There's a good girl. I've got a bastard of a headache."

"As have I, but no I shan't!"
She yelled incredulously,
"How dare you lie about such a thing, about me being related to you...I don't want shame brought upon my family name-"

"Gods Sif, must you overreact always?....."
He responded, whilst distractedly searching all the cupboards for some paracetamol. He wasn't having much luck finding them, which was adding to his agitation,
".....it's so fucking.....Asgardian!"

Enraged, she shot across the room towards him.
Had he not been crouched down now, his head buried in one of the bottom cupboards, she would have slapped him.

"That's because I am an Asgardian and I am proud of the fact. We have values, principles, morals, and...."
In her fury she was struggling to find the words she wanted to,
"....and...and since when did you become so enraptured by the mortals? You always found them to be beneath you, yet now you fraternise with them, and scorn your own kind-"

"Your kind, I'm half Jotun....let's not forget that."
His muffled voice rang out.
"....you constantly remind me of the fact, by referring to me as a monster!"

She stepped closer to him, resisting the urge to slam his head in the door.
"It is your actions that make you monstrous, not necessarily your parentage.....and besides it does not alter the fact that you've been fornicating with a human, despite mocking Thor for having done the same. But at least his intentions are honourable!"
Overwhelmed by his hypocrisy, she couldn't refrain from laughing mirthlessly.

"Honourable intentions? Chirst, Sif. I only fucked her, it doesn't mean I have any desire to marry the woman!"

She ceased laughing, suddenly feeling bile rise at the back of her throat,
"So you did....you bedded her!"
She said accusingly, a hint of bitterness lacing her voice. And suddenly she was consumed by irrational jealousy, so much so that she tugged on her hair in frustration.
"You hypocritical, filthy pig! You disgust me!"

Loki's head whipped around so fast she thought for a moment he might've broken his neck. He gazed up at her, meeting her eyes,
"So, is that what this outburst is all about? Me, dating that woman?"

That woman?
This struck Sif as awfully cold, considering he'd just spent the night with her and engaged in....whatever perverse carnal pursuits they'd engaged in. She literally shuddered at the thought.
But as much as she was loathed to admit it, he wasn't entirely wrong. For some ridiculous and unfathomable reason, knowing that human had shared his bed, really stuck in her craw.
But she would rather die than have him suspect that to be the case.

"Do not attempt to turn this around on me, Loki!"
Her hands went to her hips, until she suddenly felt cool air....and Loki's gaze....on her chest.
Damnation!
She hurriedly grasped at the towel which had slipped, and used both hands to tighten it to her securely.

Loki turned away abruptly, attempting to divert his attention back to the task in hand. Which was what exactly?
Shit, what was he looking for? He could scarcely remember now.
Bloody Sif, and her bloody delectable body. He didn't want to dwell upon what he'd just seen......again.
He had a sudden unwanted vision of her stretched naked on his bed, and he muttered a curse under his breath.
What was wrong with him? He hadn't had such illicit thoughts about a woman in a long time.
Now he found himself fantasising about ripping that towel off her, and demonstrating how he'd really earned the nickname 'Silver Tongue' which wasn't simply due to his enviable ability to talk himself out of a room with no doors.

"What is the matter?"
She was asking now, in a small voice.

He cleared his throat, realising he was being uncharacteristically quiet.
"Nothing."

"Why were you looking at me like that?"

Shit. She'd obviously noticed him gaping at her again.
Damn his traitorous eyes, and traitorous mind for roaming where he did not wish them to go.
"Like what?"
He replied, attempting to appear oblivious as he stood hurriedly.

Anger was a good antidote for desire wasn't it? And he certainly had plenty to be angry about, for he knew she was purposely trying to find his weaknesses and exploit them.
Having seen her damning search history on his computer, only verified his suspicions. She was attempting to seduce him.

"You seem to be making a habit of that."
He accused, seizing the opportunity to change the subject.

"Of what?"

"Of exposing yourself, one might be inclined to think you're enjoying it, or doing it deliberately!"
He snapped.

"It was an accident, do not flatter yourself, Loki. I have no intention of humiliating myself again. And you are the very last person I'd willingly wish to expose myself to!"
She roared.

"Is that right? Well, tell me...how did you sleep last night Sif?"
He asked cryptically, as though hinting that he was somehow aware of the disturbing dream she'd had.

Was it possible to die of embarrassment? Surely if it were then she'd have been winging her way to Valhalla yesterday afternoon.
She would've liked to fan her flushed cheeks right now, but her hands were occupied with clutching the towel.
"What are you implying, trickster?!"

"Just asking a simple question.."
He retorted with a wan smile.
"I just happened to look in on you, and you were writhing around the bed...you even moaned at one point."

"How dare you spy on me whilst I am sleeping!"

"Calm down, Sif. There's no need to burst a blood vessel over it. I simply wished to know if you were in fact sleeping or choosing to sulk like you did the night before. I did knock first, but I assumed you were ignoring me."

"You are unbelievable!"
She cried, aghast. The man had some gall.
"Do not invade my privacy again. Ever! And why you would presume that I would be dreaming about you is completely beyond me!'

He smiled at her crookedly,
"Loki, please....stop...I cannot allow this to happen."
He mimicked her voice perfectly, using his magical abilities.

She stared at him, her face a rictus of horror.
Oh no. No, no no!
It was too horrible to bear, she couldn't stand it. She had been talking in her sleep, and he had overheard. Never before had she longed for the floor to somehow open up and swallow her, even if it meant plunging into the deepest, darkest depths of Hellheim.
It would be a welcome fate to escape this excruciating embarrassment.

"It was.....it was just...."
She stumbled over her own words, unable to form a full sentence, and he was revelling in her awkwardness the bastard.
"....what I mean is, I have no control over my dreams. And besides, I consider it to be more of a nightmare!"

"If you say so, Sif."
He grinned, then turning on his heel he swaggered off in the direction of the door,
"Also, did you know you sleep with your mouth open? I must confess......it's very fucking tempting."

Aghast, Sif clutched a hand theatrically to her burning face. The man was deplorable.
The fact his torrid words made her feel as if she were melting into a gooey mess, only added to her turmoil.

Satisfied that he'd succeeded in embarrassing her enough - two could play at this seduction game - Loki called over his shoulder,
"I'm going to the pharmacy on the corner....get dressed. When I return we shall go clothes shopping. I'm sick of the sight of you in that badly fitting towel."

**********************

Having dressed in her armour; which Loki had obligingly enchanted once more in order to cast the illusion of her wearing 'ordinary' clothes, they'd driven to the west end of London in Loki's super swanky, and super expensive black F-Type Jaguar coupe.

Sif was both alarmed and impressed in equal measures at the revelation of him having a car and at his driving skills. He was able to navigate the treacherous roads of the inner city despite the traffic being chaotic, with great ease.
But, he was after all, a living personification of chaos. No doubt he thrived in such an environment. Though he moaned on and on relentlessly about the traffic delays, and lamented how he ought to have bought himself a motorbike.

She had wanted to ask him how on earth he could afford his apartment, car, antiques, expensive suits, not to mention a shopping trip to Selfridges and Harrods on bustling Oxford street, when he had no apparent means of income. But given her earlier humiliation, she'd resisted. Instead she opted to remain silent, and store the question for another time......it's not as if she didn't have plenty of it, after all.

After they had traipsed around countless stores, each of which had a staggering selection of every item one might need, she was completely overwhelmed and spoilt for choice. Coupled with the fact that she had no idea when it came to choosing sizes and matching items to create any particular style, she was at a complete loss. Therefore they had yet to purchase a single thing.

Whenever Loki proffered his opinion Sif sharply dismissed it, reminding him that she, was choosing the garments for herself.

Eventually they found themselves in a small boutique, due to Sif having seen something in the window display that caught her eye.
Now having enlisted the help of a female assistant, Loki was relieved to be sat waiting in the seating area, which they'd conveniently thought to provide for bored men.

Bored was an understatement, he was fast losing the will to live.
He found himself pondering on how they should use this as a form of punishment back on Asgard, it made the prospect of spending eternity rotting in chains, almost appealing.

Finally though, with the assistants help, Sif chose several outfits, which could all be mixed and matched. She chose three pairs of footwear; some adorable ballet flats, a retro pair of biker-style ankle boots with buckles, and a scary, yet 'sexy' (as the assistant informed her) looking pair of high heels.....they, would certainly take some getting used to.
When it came to underwear and nightwear, she had settled on delicate lacy sets and pretty satin numbers.
She even added a pair of stockings to her basket, on the assistants advice.

"Your husband will be very happy with those."
She had smiled playfully at Sif.

Perplexed, Sif was about to inform her that the tall, dark, brooding individual who had accompanied her, was not by any means her husband, but she was suddenly called away in order to take a phone call. Taking the baskets with her in order to bag up her items, Sif arranged to meet her by the cash register once she'd changed back into her own attire.

She was still wearing a dress which she'd tried on, but decided against as she found it too revealing for her liking, so she intended to place it back on the rail.
The problem was, she had been left stranded now in the changing rooms, with no one to aid her in unzipping it.

After struggling for several minutes and only managing to get the zip slightly down, she gave up and went in search of assistance.
Just as she poked her head around the changing room door, to her eternal dismay, the only person in sight was Loki; who was heading in her direction, his expression thunderous.

"How much longer is this going to take?"
He barked.
"I have no wish to die of old age or boredom whilst waiting for you!"

Sighing heavily, she begrudgingly had to ask him the inevitable.
"Can you help me get out of this dress? I have tried, but regrettably I am not a contortionist."

Blinking, as though momentarily blindsided by her request, he simply nodded and followed her into the cubicle.
She assumed she had nothing left to lose, she couldn't possibly experience any further embarrassment today.
Or so she thought. But how wrong she was.

"Are you sure I'm not invading your privacy?"
He said, stiffly as his spine.

"Oh do shut up, Loki. Just get on with it if you don't mind."

Standing behind her at close quarters due to the enclosed space, obediently Loki gently lifted the luscious cascade of hair away from her neck, whilst using his other hand to unzip the dress with his deft fingers.
She felt the slight breeze on her back as the dress came undone, yet he never moved.

Slightly confused, she darted a glance in the mirror which stood opposite and held her breath as she saw, and felt, him bring his face close to her ear,
"I warned you, didn't I Sif?"
He rasped, his voice thickening just like the air in the cubicle had.
"You shouldn't play with fire!"

She didn't have time to answer, as in an instant he had her hair wrapped around his wrist, wrenching her head back sharply. She shrieked with surprise, as well as pain.
"W-what are you doing? Let go!"
She attempted to elbow him in the face, but the iron-like grip he had on her hair, combined with the restrictive, confined space of the cubicle, made it impossible.

"I can play you at your own game my lady...."
He was murmuring now, his expression in the mirror savage.
"....you keep testing me, well lets see how you react to the response you're hoping for, shall we?"

He dipped his head, and her eyes rounded as she felt his cool, thin lips press against the line of her throat. In contrast to his fierce demeanour, they felt soft like butterfly wings on her skin.
She hadn't even recovered from the shock of him kissing her neck, when next she felt his long fingers on the warm skin of her lower back, as he slipped his free hand inside the dress.
Holy Hela.

She writhed against him in protest, but he held her firmly by the waist, continuing to trace feathery kisses along her neck, down to her collarbone. A thrill coursed through her veins, making her limbs buzz with excitement.
No, this was all wrong. She had to fight it.

"Loki, stop it!"
She raged, lips curling in fury,
"I shall scream-"

"Go ahead, I shan't stop you, but perhaps secretly you crave my silver tongue."
His voice was a deep whisper that reverberated along her skin, sending glorious shivers down her spine.

Indeed, he wasn't actually stopping her. So why was she hesitating?

His lips trailed back along her throat, growing more demanding as they reached a suddenly sensitive spot just below her ear, whilst at the same time his thumb gently brushed against the underside of her breast.
Her traitorous body quivered, and inexplicably she found herself willing his hand to wander higher, wanting his forbidden touch.
Her conscience screamed that she should be outraged, shocked, mortified and appalled. And she was absolutely disgusted at herself for not being any of those things.
Indeed it was quite the opposite.
What had she become?

His grip on her hair slackened now, allowing her to turn her head towards him, hoping he'd sense her need to feel his mouth on hers.
And sense it he did.
He felt the soft curve of her breast, and unable to resist the urge, gently clasped it in his palm, causing her to make a small, inarticulate noise.

She knew she should scream for help, but instead she bit her lip to prevent screaming for pleasure. Her breath was now coming out in small pants, as he gently caressed her beneath the material.
Her breast felt warm and heavy in his hand, and as the pad of his thumb found the soft nub of her nipple, she choked out a gasp, which he took advantage of by bringing his lips down on hers, catching her in a deep kiss.

The contact sent a shockwave through her body, and she honestly believed her legs were going to buckle as she practically swooned.
Their mouths seemed to fit perfectly, as if they were made from the same mould.
The sensations were beyond compare to anything else she'd ever known.
His skin was slightly rough on hers, his ministrations perfect, and his lips were divine.
The kiss was urgent and filled with a need Sif had never known before, and now she'd had a taste, she realised she'd never have enough.

Loki released her hair, enabling her to twist around to face him fully. His strong ams wrapped around her, pulling her closer, and she could feel him hard and needy, pressing against the centre of her body.
She kissed him back now frantically, with a hunger that matched his own.
Any previous strains of resistance she'd shown earlier, had evaporated without a trace.
There wasn't words enough to describe how wonderful Loki's mouth felt.
Tender but demanding, playful but fierce, and she didn't ever want to stop kissing him.
He was showing her that every other kiss she'd had in her life had been wrong.

Similarly, Loki was overcome by the realisation that this felt startlingly right.
Sif felt right. She felt right after so much wrong.
Every square inch of her was melting into him, and he was finding it incredibly sexy and seductive......which was exactly what she had been striving for, wasn't it?

As this dawned on Loki he inwardly cursed his weak body and virile libido for giving in to such temptation.
This had gone too far now he decided. Far too far.
Initially he had intended to teach her a lesson, and instead he'd merely succeeded in being overcome with desire and fervent lust.
He was playing right into her hands, and he'd fallen victim to his own game.
But more to the point, this was Sif, he reminded himself. 
The beautiful Sif, who was hopelessly in love with his witless brother.

The recollection immediately stilled his ardour, dousing his fevered state more effectively than someone dumping a bucket of cold water on his head.
Bitterness enveloped him, making his fiery blood turn to ice, and with great effort he tore his mouth away from hers, abruptly.

No longer supported by his clutches, she staggered slightly, head spinning.
Both of them were breathless, so when he spoke, he failed at keeping his tone steady.

"Get dressed. Now. I'm going to pay for your clothes."
He panted, before slipping out of the door.

*****************

The drive back was incredibly awkward, as neither of them spoke and the atmosphere was extremely tense.
Sif was desperately trying to process what had happened, and come to terms with what she had done, let alone what he had done.
She felt deeply ashamed, so much so that she couldn't even bring herself to look at him. Being around him was dangerous, it was like sweet torture. She needed to be away from him for fear of losing her senses again.

After parking his car in the garage next door to his apartment building, once they were inside she beat a hasty retreat to her room, without looking back.

Her actions incensed Loki. He wanted to be the one to drag her to her room, throw her in there and demand she stay out of his sight. But she'd chosen to voluntarily hide herself away from him.
Clearly she regretted her actions, just as much as he did.

So why did he feel such crushing disappointment, resentment, and indignation? Anger was too kind a word for what he was feeling.
Incandescent rage was more befitting.