Curse Of Blood: Gods & Monsters

Chapter XXXIV - Loki

When his chest was no more than a hair's breadth from her back he grabbed her around the waist with both steely arms and nestled his mouth against her neck. Aila turned in his embrace and threw her ams around him, fervid with relief ... and passion. A heady craving. He could hear her heart shivering with the excitement; taste the fragrant tang of desire that suffused her dampened skin.

She raised her lips to his — a silent demand that he promptly answered. They were rain-drenched and piquant, her warmth enticing and the velveteen texture of her tongue only whetting his ardor all the more. Loki pushed her up against the bark of a sturdy, broad elm, ripping her drawstrings loose the while he glutted himself at her throat and shoulders.

Working his way ever lower, he raised her tunic over her head and cast it to the mossy earth so that he could pause and pay homage to her luscious, undulating contours. There he suckled, her breasts heaving eagerly, and stroked each nipple into tautened peaks, pushing her trousers down as he dragged his lips to sip at the vale between her thighs.

Aila dug her fingers into his hair and threw her head back with a husky whimper, arching her back and spreading her legs further as Loki savored the nectar from her flushed and silken core.

Finally, he rose again when she was nearly overcome, his need long since surpassed, and swiftly, effortlessly, lifted her up against the bole. Aila wrapped her legs tightly about his waist, locking him in place and straining him to her center as he plundered her mouth with more urgent kisses.

Once his belt was hurriedly, and clumsily, unfastened, and his own cape and tunic discarded, he shoved his pants out of the way and freed himself before plunging forthwith into her welcoming depths.

Her scent was intoxicating and her movements wild, her nails merciless as they urge him deeper, spurring him ever faster. Even her soft moans enthralled him utterly — like the wind soughing at the cliffs, luring and inciting him to that obliterating precipice.

Loki was enflamed as he ran his palms against her pebbled breasts, his weight rooting her in place, their bodies as of one glorious instrument. Only pleasure surged and flourished as each bead of perspiration, each hungry breath, and every fevered touch conceived itself in the furious joining of flesh and heat.

At length she convulsed around him violently, precipitating him to followed her thence — over the edge of the world to fall with a euphoric discharge of lightning and fire.

So soon? he thought with a satiated chuckle as they sank to the ground.

Aila lay sprawled atop his chest, but lifted her head to admire the colors freaked across the firmament, the afterglow of lovemaking still high in her cheeks. "A rainbow," she whispered, swirling her finger over the expanse of flesh that housed his blackened heart.

"The Bifrost," he corrected her with a sensual grin.

"Oh?" she lifted her head still further. "Who has come?" She made to grab for her clothing, but he gently took her hand and stilled her movements, pressing his mouth against the inside of her wrist.

"Why, Aila," he answered with a smirk, "you did."

She laughed softly and rolled her eyes a brief while, after which she continued studying the woods warily as though expecting an intruder.

"Easy, love." He pushed himself onto his elbows to plant a firm kiss on her lips. "We are quite alone. Odin was here earlier, but, as you see," said he, pointing to the rainbow bridge, "he left afore you arrived."

"Hmm." She relaxed then, folding her forearms over his abdomen so that she could rest her chin there. "What did he want? It never bodes well when he visits you."