Can a God, truly be redeemed?

Chapter 5

     As Loki stepped out of the now cold shower, and quickly whipped his head to the side as his magic flowed over his body, drying and clothing him all at once. He glances down to the throbbing, bleeding mess his fist is. He revels in the physical pain of it, soaks it in as it's nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Unfortunately, he is a quick healer, as he sees the small cuts quickly seal shut, pushing out the embedded pieces of glass, looking as if he never injured it at all.

     He grabbed his recently purchased cell phone, one you had deemed he desperately needed in case of any emergencies. Once you showed him how to use it properly, he only ever used it to call or message you. Otherwise he found the object quite annoying as it liked to beep at him and ring whenever he was enjoying a good book, or when he was deep inside of you. He messaged you, over and over again. Asking where you were and pleading to let him explain. The longer you didn't respond and the more time seemed to pass, had his nerves on edge.

Where on Earth could you be? Why were you not responding? Were you in danger or hurt somewhere? Loki's heart dropped to his stomach at the thought of you being hurt and alone somewhere he couldn't help or find you. The only thing he has repeated over and over is the image of your face, the look in your eyes, when he saw you in the doorway. The utter sight of heartbreak and betrayal. A look he had vowed he would never be the cause of to cross your face. He saw the emptiness hit your eyes and the light die away when they flitted from him to the woman beneath him. As soon as he said your name, it was like a switch was flipped inside you. You looked at him once more, dropped the lingerie in your hand and spun around out the bedroom door.

     Loki had never seen you move so fast! If it wasn't due to your running from this, he would be impressed. As soon as you spun around to leave all he could think of was to get you to listen to him. He jumped from the bed and he magically put on his pants. He tried to go after you and willed the effect of the whiskey out of his system everything inside of him was screaming in his mind "NO! Come back!".

     He now stared at the bed you both shared. It tainted with his cruel, disgusting mistake. He sneered at it as his mind raced over what transpired a mere hour ago. With a wave of his hand he had stripped off all the offending smelling sheets, and even the mattress now gone. He stares at the empty bed frame in sorrow. He may never look at it the same way again. As much as he could see all the times he made love to you there on it, all the times he fucked you like the wild animal he tended to be sometimes, you loving every second.

     He envisioned the last time you both were actually intimate together in your bed. When he closed his eyes he could remember it all perfectly. How he whispered such dirty filth in your ear, all the things he knew you loved to hear, while he slowly stroked you dripping center. Loki loved to make you utterly mad with desire for him before he ever let his cock dive deep into you.

     Norns, the things your moans and cries for more did to him! Did you know? Did you ever see how it took all the willpower he had not to stroke himself everytime he saw your naked body spread across the sheets craving for his touch, and his alone? He did. Loki lost himself each time in your body, in drawing every orgasm he could from you. They were like the most precious of gems to him. He needed them, to watch you fall over and over again. He had to make you cum on his fingers, his tongue, before you ever got to finally earn his cock. He loved how by the time he would slowly join his body with yours, you were nothing but a moaning mess for him. You were completely and utterly his.

Loki was shocked to find the sob that ripped out of his chest as he fell to his knees reminiscing on what he just lost. Like his heart has been ripped from him and tossed away, all of his own doing. He had never experienced this kind of self hatred before and he was well accustomed to hating himself. This was quite the new low.