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Lavender.
The heady, sweet scent of it drifting in on a gentle breeze from the gardens greeted you when you emerged from the depths of sleep. In the distance, the faint echoing clang of swords from the training ground told you it was late morning; much later than you usually permitted yourself to sleep. Yet, you were in no hurry to wriggle free from the green silk cocoon you were entrapped in. Hours had passed, albeit only a few, but the drunken feeling of satisfaction still lingered like a summer evening. Stretching luxuriously within the rich green sheets, you embraced the pleasant ache that had settled over your limbs; a sweet reminder of the night before and how Loki had pulled orgasm after orgasm from your shaking body.
“You take my cock so well, my darling. Look at how your pretty cunt swallows every inch of me,” he had praised, pushing your legs obscenely wide while he drove you towards your fourth release of the night.
Weakly, you had attempted to protest. Your arms locked around his strong shoulders threatened to go limp, and the connection between your brain and mouth was decidedly lost. “Loki…can’t…I can’t,” you whimpered, your pleas sounding half hearted even to your own ears.
He began to circle your clit faster and firmer, began to slam into you harder, eliciting a wanton moan from your mouth as you arched into him. He took the opportunity to slide his arm under your back, cradling you closer to him while he ruined you.
“My good girl, yes you can,” he purred into your ear. “Once more for me. Let me hear you scream my name once more.”
The final orgasm he ripped from you had you thanking the Norns he had cast a silencing charm over your chambers. His name left your mouth in a scream to the Heavens; yours fell from his like an ancient prayer of salvation.
In the wake of your release you lay beneath him feeling boneless. Your body ached in the most satisfying way and you knew you’d be feeling the beautiful aftermath of his attentions for the remainder of the week.
You had brought it on yourself, really. You loved to tease him as much as he loved to tease you. In this instance it had been about the pretended attentions of a new guard to your service, teasing him senseless about how Kadir could potentially sway your affections away. If the end result was a night that still had you tingling the next morning, you made a note to do it more often, even if it meant waking to an empty bed.
The sheets on Loki’s side of the bed were cool and rumpled, but the soft sound of running water assured you he hadn’t gone far. With a million more thoughts about how to provoke him into angry morning sex, you made to join him in the shower, already aflame with the thought of his hands on your skin and his cock teasing into you.
Until you caught sight of yourself in the huge gilded mirror that sat lazily against the chamber wall.
Purple and red painted your body in a myriad of marks that hadn’t been there the morning before. Tiny little bruises peppered your inner thighs as a reminder of where Loki’s mouth had been only hours before, bruises that became angrier and more evident when your eyes trailed over your stomach, following the mismatched patchwork of marks up over your breasts and collarbone all the way to your neck.
His possessiveness had overtaken him and he had decorated your entire body with his marks, leaving you, or anyone else, with no doubt as to who you belonged to.
You were so lost in examining the endless marks on your skin, more prominent and numerous than any he had left before, that you didn’t notice the sudden silence from the bathroom adjacent, nor did you catch the soft padding of Loki’s footsteps across the stone floor. You weren’t even aware of his presence in the chamber until his arms wrapped firmly around your waist from behind.
“Morning, dove,” he said softly, his nose buried in your hair. You could feel the ends of his damp curls lightly tickling over your bare shoulders.
“Look at me,” you replied, your eyes raking over your painted naked body enveloped securely in his arms.
“Mmm.” Loki hummed in your ear, his grip tightening around your middle. “I know, you’re exquisite.”
An embarrassed puff of air left your lips, accompanied by a faint heat rising to your cheeks. “Loki, we have to attend Court this morning!” you whined. It was half hearted, he likely knew that; he knew how much you adored when he marked you.
He laughed softly, resting his chin atop your head. “I won’t apologise for marking you up, my love. Everyone should know you’re mine.” His eyes glinted playfully when they met yours in the mirror.
You cocked an eyebrow at his reflection. “The entire nobility will be there,” you said plainly.
A wicked grin spread across his face. “Then wear something low, won’t you? I want everyone to see my marks painted on you.” As if to prove a point, he lowered his mouth to your neck to suck another bruise into your skin.
You shivered in his arms, aroused beyond measure at his suggestion. Resting your head back against his shoulder, you caught his eyes again, a mischievous smile of your own tugging at your lips. “Only if you promise to fill in the spaces you missed last night after Court, my prince.”
Against your backside, you felt the hardening length of him press into you. “I do love that filthy mind of yours, dear heart.” Before you could protest, he was scooping you effortlessly into his arms, pulling a startled squeak from your lips. “But I’m afraid I can’t wait that long.”
Your back hit the tangle of emerald sheets once more, legs spreading easily to accommodate him between them.
You were his. Completely and utterly his.