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Thin, hard ridges of solid oak pressed unforgivingly into your back, the heavy palace door they formed behind you shaking in its imposing frame with the force in which Loki had slammed you against it. Though with your lover locked securely between your thighs again and overwhelming your every sense, you barely noticed the dull pinch of pain.
“Loki…,” you moaned, reveling in the feel of his hot mouth pressed against your neck and his strong hands securing your legs around his waist. Tiny little bites were peppered across your skin and, almost instinctively, your calves pressed down against his ass in a silent plea for him to move closer. He had hiked your skirts up around your waist and slotted himself so firmly against you that you could feel his hard cock straining against his leather trousers, the cool material brushing teasingly against the thin material of your underwear.
He was as close to you as was physically possible but still it wasn’t enough. Still, you needed more.
“Mine.” The deep, reassuring timbre of his voice rumbled in your ear, followed closely by his lips sealing across yours in a kiss so intense you feared your heart would leap from your chest. His kiss was hard and frantic and left the sweet taste of honeyed wine lingering on your tongue.
You twisted a hand into his soft curls to force him closer, longing to get drunk on the taste of him, of the feel of him. For two weeks you had been denied his attentions while he battled at some remote corner of the universe, an entire two weeks in which you believed you would go half mad with need for him. Now, with the strong, solid feel of him in your arms and the rich scent of leather and patchouli that was uniquely his, you easily let him claim you.
Reluctantly, you pulled back from his lips, delighting in the small, almost unnoticeable, growl of frustration that vibrated in his throat. “Need you…please,” you begged in a whisper, feeling a wave of arousal swirl in your core at the raw lust glittering in his green eyes.
The grin that spread across his face was wolfish. “Is that so?” he asked, shifting his hips to brush against your aching core and pulling a sharp cry of need from your throat. “Whatever did you do these past few weeks, hmm? Did you ache for me, darling? Did you dream of how I would claim you upon my return?” He leaned in to nip playfully at your ear, all the while adjusting your legs higher around his waist.
It was the perfect opportunity to play him at his own game, to make him burn for you as intensely as you yearned for him. His mouth was right by your ear as you whispered clearly, “I thought of you when I touched myself.” You heard the immediate hitch of his breath and felt his fingers flex around your thighs.
“You little minx,” he replied, his voice noticeably huskier. “You beautiful little devil.” His eyes returned to yours, dark, primal desire swirling clearly in emerald irises.
You smirked at him, feeling the balance of power tumble swiftly in your favour. “Maybe you’d like to watch, my prince?” you asked coyly, your hand moving down between your legs with Loki’s eyes following its slow descent. “Watch as I touch myself to the thought of you…” Your hand drifted lightly over the thin material of your underwear, sending the barest thrill shooting through your lower stomach. “Loki…Loki…Loki.” You titled your head back against the door in feigned ecstasy, his name continuing to fall from your lips in a breathy, teasing chant while you traced little circles through the lace.
The force of his seidr kept you pinned to the door while he snatched your hand away. With the other, he gripped your chin firmly between his fingers. “Why don’t we save your little show for later, darling?” he said, arousal dripping from his every word as he pushed his hips into you. “I’ve waited long enough to hear you scream my name as I take you.”
With practiced ease, he freed himself, his need to have you so great that he refrained from his usual merciless teasing to slide easily inside your soaked cunt. You gave a sharp cry of pleasure at how wonderfully he filled and stretched you, a cry that reverberated loudly along the empty passageway. Quickly, you clamped your mouth closed, a small twinge of fear coursing through you at the possibility you may have alerted someone innocently passing nearby.
Loki smirked wickedly at you, a challenge alighting in his eyes. “I do hope you can be quieter than that, pet. Thor and the others are right on the other side of this door, and I have no intention of casting a silencing charm.” He rocked firmly into you, having you bite your lip to contain a strangled moan. “We wouldn’t want your husband to discover our filthy little secret, would we?”
You dug your nails into the soft velvet of his overcoat, desperately trying to curb the flow of whimpers and moans that begged to be allowed release. Loki only thrust firmly into you again, hitting the sweet spot deep inside you and making you bury your face in his neck to muffle the groan that escaped you.
“Admirable so far, pet,” he purred. “But I fully intend to make you sing for me.”