Loki's Favorite

Part 9

I knock softly on the door. My plan is to apologize for leading him on, return the necklace and jacket, and explain that we can't be together. I take a deep breath and as I exhale the door creaks open.

"Hello?" My voice is timid as I pass through the doorway. "Loki?" I look around at his room. It's almost what I expected- dark, black and green color scheme. There's something about it that shocks me though-the regal extravagance. The bed is large with silky black sheets. I see no one around, but I hear noises coming from what appears to be the bathroom.

"Loki?" I ask as I push the door open. When I walk in I see Loki with nothing but a towel around his waist. He appears to have just gotten out of a bath. He doesn't notice me until I make a small squeak of both surprise and embarrassment. "I-I-"

"I didn't realize you wanted me like that so soon." He smirks and walks over to me. "I must admit I'm a bit shocked at how forward you are."
He reaches down and entangled his hands around my waist. Before I can process what is happening he bends over and kisses me softly. My lips tingle from the unfamiliar sensation and without thinking I kiss back.

"Wait!" I say, breaking away. "We need to talk."

"What's the point in idle chit chat darling." He coos and places a butterfly
kiss on my neck. "Is this a conversation I should be dressed for?"

"Yes. You should probably get dressed, I'll wait over here." I sit on his bed and watch as he pulls on his clothes. He plops down next to me with a sigh.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"It's about us. I don't think we can be together." His face contorts. "I mean, you are a Prince, and I'm just a servant. It would be inappropriate for us to be together." He seems unconvinced. "Besides, I'm not ready for a romantic relationship."

"So what? Who cares if you're a servant? Not me." He leans in towards me. "And I don't believe that you don't want to date me."

"I'm sorry for any pain that I have caused you. I never meant to lead you on." I take off his jacket and hand it to him. I go to remove the necklace but it won't come off.

"Pain? You want to talk about pain?" He scoffs. "Pain is never feeling the fires of love and then all of a sudden they are burning me from the inside out. Pain is lusting after you but forcing myself to slow down. Pain is watching you flirt shamelessly with that peasant Benjamin."

I'm terrified, and he pins me onto my back on the bed. I can't move under his strength, but that isn't what is scaring me. It's the look in his eyes. His eyes look like they are trying to devour me, and consume every ounce of my being. The only sounds that manage to escape my lips are a meek, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Ha!" He laughs maniacally, and climbs on top of me. "I'll show you just how sorry you should be."