Captive (Loki Story 18+)

4

We've moved to the living room, to the stairs, and finally to his bedroom.

Every time we wrenched our bodies away from each other, we came right back to each other within moments.

"In all of the nine realms I have never met another being that is filled with as much desire as you," Loki says as we lay in his bed, my head on his chest, "and never one who's drive was as enthused as mine."

"Oh?" I prop myself up on my elbow.

"Indeed," he looks into my eyes as I trail my fingers down his chest.

My intensions were not to have sex on every surface to this room, but damn was it fun. If it's to be like this from now on, I can live with it, but I would much rather go home.

"Loki?"

"Yes, Darling?"

God that name.

Focus.

"Will you let me go home?" My eyes are glued to his chest, unable to meet his eyes.

He says nothing.

I slowly look up to meet his gaze, but his eyes aren't in me.

He stares up at the ceiling, his eyes refecting that of a wounded man.

Did I hurt him?

I sit up and head to the bathroom.

"Nevermind, forget I asked."

I'm suddenly pinned to the wall and Loki's face is inches from mine.

"You are mine I won't let you go!" He shouts, his grip hurting my wrists.

"I don't belong to you or anyone else!" I scream back at him.

He throws me onto the bed.

"And here I thought we were making progress," he pins me beneath him, "but you were just hoping to soften me up and get out of here."

I glare at him.

"Your mother was right, you are scheming an escape," he get closer to me and whispers, "but that won't happen."

"My mom?" My eyes brim with tears.

He spoke with my mom. That means she went to Avenger's Tower. And I'm still stuck here.

"That's right, Darling," he says with a smirk, "your mother has been there and has retold her story of what she heard and saw that night, many times I might add."

A tear falls from my eyes, drifting back into my hair.

"You won't even let a mother see her child?" My words come out thick as my eyes bore into his, "or for a daughter to say goodbye to her mother?"

His smirk falters.
I struck a nerve.

"No."

He lets go of me and walks out the door, slamming it behind him.

I run and try to open in but it's locked.

No.
Please no.
Not again.

I bang on it repeatedly.

"I'm sorry please let me out!" I scream, "please!"

Tears cascade from my eyes.

He's only ever locked me in a room once. He left me in there for days, never once coming to check on me.

"Please," I sob as I fall against the door and slide down to the floor.

I hate crying. I hate feeling and looking weak. But this man has pushed me far past every breaking point I have.