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Sif stirred, hummed sleepily as Loki traced her spine with an index finger. His touch light enough to raise bumps across her skin, and elicit a shiver of pleasure.
He bent, closed his mouth over a bruise he had earlier left on the back of her shoulder with his teeth, tasted the salt on her skin, his finger pausing at the base of her spine for only a moment. Only until he heard her moan. Her scent filled his nose, and his possessiveness rose.
The silver sheet that lay across her lower half was pushed down as his finger slid lower, parting the cheeks of her ass to brush against her anus with a teasing press. Sif lifted her head to look at him, raising her brows, and Loki chuckled lowly. Then pulled the sheet away entirely with his free hand.
“I would make it good for you.” But while he was interested in claiming her completely, he was in no hurry to convince her.
“I’m not sure that even you, with all your skills, is capable of making that good.” She retorted, but didn’t move from her position on her stomach, arms tucked under the pillow her head rested on.
“Oh, Sif. You wound me so.” Loki purred. “Lucky for you, I choose to take that as a challenge.”
He did not push his luck, however, seeking, instead, her swollen folds, and smiling at the soft hiss she exhaled as he spread her open, pressing inside.
“…Loki” The needy edge to her voice was perfect, and he rewarded her for it, adding a second finger, curling them to seek the spot he could find in his sleep as often as he had pushed that button as of late.
Sif’s hips rocked against his hand, her breath ragged. “Loki… please.” He did love how easily she begged in this state, the way his heart skipped at the sound of her voice when she said his name.
“I will take care of you.” It was a promise, whispered against her ear. She had begun to tremble, alerting him to her coming climax, but rather than draw it out of her, he pulled his fingers out to the sound of her dismayed cry.
“Turn over, Sif.” He said softly with a slap against one butt cheek.
“I will kill you.” She grumbled, but despite her words, rolled onto her back, her eyes not nearly as angry as the words.
“Not in this state you won’t.” Loki teased.
“Cease your prattling, Silvertongue. I—“
“—Have a better task for that tongue. Indeed, you do.” He loved looking at her, and despite the painful way he was aching for her, he took his time, letting his gaze rove her body, coming to settle on another colorful set of tooth marks on her hip.
He positioned himself between her legs, and she lifted her legs over his shoulders as his hands came to rest on her thighs, thumbs rubbing against her soft flesh. Sif shifted, her desperation clear, and he didn’t keep her waiting.
They had been together quite a bit lately, and this was hardly the first time of the night. Despite her amazing ability to heal, the evidence of their coupling was clear. He swept his tongue against her raw flesh, tasting the evidence of her arousal and their previous climaxes, and groaned, smiling at the tremor that shot down her legs. He knew she was over-sensitive, and tried to take care to be gentle.
Loki’s fingers returned, stimulating her internally as his tongue swirled around her clit, and growled when her fingers tangled into his hair. One of her feet dug into his back as she arched, and, knowing that she was close, he closed his lips around her nub.
Sif cursed as she came, but the words lowered to an incoherent whimper as he dragged it out with the slow tease of his tongue until she was trembling and spent.
He looked up at her, over her heaving chest and sweat dampened skin, eyes falling on her mouth, her lip swollen and red from the way he knew she caught it between her teeth to quiet her noises.
“Beautiful Sif.”
A smile curved her lips, and he rose over her body, letting his own lips, still damp from her juices, press against the bite mark. They left a wet trail up her body, helped along by his tongue, slid against one nipple and then the other, all while Sif’s hands remained tangled in his hair, encouraging him higher until she could kiss him.
It was desperate, but not as demanding as it had been. They were both past that point, settling now into simply being together. Which was always strange in hindsight as their relationship was so strained the rest of the time. Especially now that the rumors had begun to fly. The whispers that spread throughout the palace over how often the Allfather was calling on her. The belief that he might soon wed the shieldmaiden in an effort to produce a new heir. It was why he was there with her within her own rooms while a duplicate remained in the Allfather’s chambers feigning sleep.
Rolling over onto his back, Loki pulled her along with him, the length of his erection rubbing against her soaked slit, and this time it was he who moaned.
Sif’s normally hazel eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and, Norns below, he didn’t think he would ever tire of seeing her like this. She shifted, reaching down to guide him within her.
His hand curled around her hip, thumb pressing just shy of the edge of the tooth marks as he sank deeply into her. Hot and wet and, at least for the moment, his. She started to move, rocking her hips so that he rubbed against her clit, and he watched her, the way her breasts bounced, the tensing of her abdominals, and the long line of her throat as she threw her head back. He met her movements, arching into her.
Long ago he had memorized the shape of her, the curve of her back and the spaces between her ribs. He read her body now, like braille, following a similar trail that he’d followed to wake her.
Fingers pressing along the edges of their joining, pushing insistently until one slipped in beside him. Sif gasped, moaned, and reminded him to be gentle with the soft noises that followed. He carefully coating the digit with her own lubrication before removing it again, and moved it upward to find her other opening. She tensed as he pressed against her, and he paused, waited for her to tell him to stop.
When she didn’t, he teased at the opening before pushing a bit harder, insistently until she began to open for him. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she braced herself against him, her body moving harder, faster, forcing him to try and control his own orgasm as it was coming too fast now, feeling his finger through her thin walls, the way she clenched around him.
“Sif…” He warned, and she reached for her clit, working herself to the edge as he felt himself lose control, slamming into her and tightening his grip on her hip to hold her still as he finished deep within her core. He barely registered when she shuddered with pleasure, slumped against him, and tucked her face into the crook of his neck.
Slowly, he removed his finger, her breath hot against his throat when she exhaled a sound too soft for him to catch. They were linked, she and him, bound by oath and blood. Both because of the fealty she had been tricked out of, and because he could feel it, knew it in the depths of his soul. That truth, known, even if it wasn’t entirely understood, evoked a bit of guilt, and he hated it.
Overstimulated yet from his orgasm, Loki hissed softly when Sif rolled off of him, tucking herself against his side. Her head rested on his shoulder as she found his hand and laced their fingers together. As nice as this was, it was only temporary, the result of all their animosity having been worked off which left him unsatisfied.
It was almost cruel to have what he wanted, knowing that it would be snatched back from him as soon as her lust waned.
Sif shifted onto her side and propped herself up to look at him, letting go of his hand to brush a finger over the crease between his brows, made deeper by his scowl. “You think too much.”
He scoffed softly. “Surely, you jest.”
“Can you not simply enjoy our time together?”
The question surprised him. Surely she needed no reminder of the dynamic they now held. “We share a bed only because I tricked you into swearing an oath of loyalty.”
She snorted. “The oath I swore prevents me from telling anyone your secrets, but it does not guarantee you a place in my bed. You are here because I choose it to be so. Do not think otherwise.” Upon the final statement, which was said quite adamantly, he thought, she settled back down against him.
That answer was both comforting, and irritating. “Need I remind you that I come to you as I please?”
“Only because you’ve seen what happens when I come to you…” She trailed off as if she had much more to say, and Loki had no doubt that she did. He was well aware of how much she hated dealing with him in the guise of Odin. Not to mention the fact that she was still angry at him, under everything else.
The reasons for that anger reminded him of the message he had come to pass on. “Believe it or not, Sif. Before you attempted to give me a concussion by knocking me against the wall, I had come here for a reason.”
“Oh?” She nuzzled his shoulder, almost derailing him. This wasn’t normal behavior from her.
“It’s about Thor.” Loki could feel her tense, but she didn’t answer, and he finally continued. “He is to be wed to the mortal and extends an invitation to his friends.”
The noise Sif made was indecipherable.
“You will go, of course.”
Silence.
He squeezed the bruise on her hip. “Sif?”
“Of course.”
“You don’t have to go if you don’t wish it.”
“What I wish, Loki, is to enjoy the rest of my night. With you.” By her tone it was hard to figure out how she truly felt about it, but the way she cuddled against him made it easy not to care.