Chapter Text
They called her Loki’s patron saint.
Sylvi had one responsibility and it was considered by all to be the most important responsibility in the realm: Waking the Allfather every morning.
As with all things concerning the dark king, of course, this duty did not come with ease; it was the most important responsibility for a reason, after all, and a good reason at that – for King Loki was not a morning person.
Opening the curtains and allowing the sunlight into his chamber would only anger him; giving him a gentle shake and calling his name would result in grave punishment; any Midgardian “alarm clocks” wound up smashed into smithereens; and any soul brave enough to waltz into the king’s quarters and demand he greet the day would likely never be seen again. (Though that was just a theory, as no one had ever dared to try it.)
As a result of Loki’s hatred of being awoken by traditional means, he decreed that he would be awoken every morning by having his cock sucked. So, Sylvi got up at dawn every single day with the sole purpose of fellating the king until he was awake, fully sated and ready to rule Asgard.
She was proud of both her responsibility and her ability to make the king come every morning without fail. What better way to start her day than listening to the exquisite moans that left Loki’s throat when she used lip, tongue and teeth to bring him to completion? The cherry on top was the fact that after her morning duty was done, she could do whatever she pleased. The downside, of course, was that his strangled moans and primal grunts left her wet and wanting for hours after her daybreak encounters with him. Midmornings generally found Sylvi in her room, pleasuring herself to the memory of the king falling apart because of her ministrations.
Due to the essential nature of her job, Sylvi’s room adjoined the king’s chambers, which also eased some of the burden of her job, as she did not have to trek from the servants’ quarters to his quarters every morning. Instead, she simply had to open the door and enter his room. Loki’s bedroom was regal to say the least, a four-poster canopy bed of solid gold up against the wall opposite the floor to ceiling balcony doors which currently had dark green velvet curtains drawn across to keep out the sunlight while the king slept. The rest of the walls in the room were bookshelves, including the sliding doors which lead to the rest of Loki’s rooms.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, she would crawl up onto the majestic bed and seat herself between his knees. Loki slept on his back, arms flung out and legs sprawled, looking less like a king, and more like one of those useless star-shaped creatures of Midgard, not to mention also naked as the day he was born – a small mercy, as Sylvi could not imagine having to wrestle him out of his sleeping pants in addition to the already-strenuous task of attempting to take every last inch of him into her throat.
Once she was positioned, and the bedsheet tugged aside to reveal a cock truly fit for a god and king, Sylvi would get to work. Gripping his member, she licked and suckled the tip until he was harder than any marble sculpture in the gardens, and thicker and heavier than the metal chisels used to carve them. When Loki let out a deep sigh in his sleep, she slowly took him further into her mouth and started sucking harder.
Loki moaned and drowsily thrusted into her mouth, she moaned around his length, the vibration causing him to rouse fully from his sleep and reach down to fist a handful of her hair. She moaned a second time, provoking him to take control and start feeding her the rest of his cock.
“You will take every inch your king has to offer.”
He made sure she felt each inch, every vein of his glorious length as he moved her up and down his shaft at his desired pace, roughly fucking her throat and savouring the little whimpers, grunts, moans and gagging sounds she was making.
Sylvi relaxed her throat as much as she could and let him do as he pleased, his fingers tightening in her silky locks as his moans began to fill and echo throughout chamber. He was getting close; she could tell by the way he was losing more and more control of himself, his grip on her hair growing erratic and threatening to pull out strands, his other hand clenched in a tight fist around the sheets, hips thrusting with varied force, face set in an expression that screamed of painful pleasure.
Grunting a barely intelligible, “Swallow every last drop,” the king let out a wild cry before his seed shot down her throat. Sylvi dutifully obeying his command gulped down all he had to offer before easing him out of her lush, hot mouth and then licking him clean.
As Loki lay spent and desperately trying to regain his composure, she took the opportunity to gaze upon his godlike features. The hand that earlier had been fisting the blanket like it had a vendetta against it was now thrown across his eyes. His other hand remained where it was, brutally fisted in her silky locks with only the slightest decrease in the firmness of his grip.
As soon as Loki had control of himself once more he sat up and faced Sylvi, using the firm hold he had on her, he tilted her head back in order for their eyes to meet and remarked: “You truly are the patron saint of sucking cock. Perhaps tomorrow I shall have you suck me in a position where I can enjoy watching my cock press against the fragile skin of your throat.”
“I am yours to command, my king,” she replied, sincerely hoping he would do just that. The mental image of her king towering above her while he fucked her face was almost too much to bear, had they been lovers and were this more than just her morning duty she would have demanded that after fucking her face he then fuck her into the mattress as well.
“That you are. Your job is done for today. Dismissed,” he said as he stood up and sauntered his way to the bathroom, barely sparing her another glance.
Sylvi climbed off the bed, straightened her dress and made her way back to her bedroom, not bothering to conceal her excitement for the morning to come.