Valkyrie's Lackey

Chapter Three: Say My Name

To say that Loki was seething, was putting it mildly. In fact, it was a monumental understatement.

He was absolutely fucking furious.

As she could've predicted, he was quite thoroughly and lengthily pissed off by her bold proclamation.

"You've got to be kidding me." He said stonily, his voice like barbed wire now rather than crushed velvet. Yet something about the harshness of his tone did unsettling things to her girly-bits.

He was hot when he was angry.
Even hotter than usual.
And boy, was he angry.
She could practically feel the barely contained, boiling rage that was bubbling beneath his exterior. And yowza....it gave her a clit hard-on!

Valkyrie already had a plan in mind to help diffuse his fury, as well as alleviate the simmering sexual tension that was rapidly reaching boiling point.

"You think yourself clever don't you?" He hurled at her haughtily, frustrated at having been outsmarted.

In his haste to indulge in a perverse game with a Valkyrie, he'd inadvertently allowed himself to be outwitted. He reasoned with himself that perhaps the promise of sampling the delights of her pussy had made him slow in the head.
His silver tongue had never failed him so badly before, and he silently cursed himself for not having chosen his words more carefully.

"Suck it up, buttercup!" She mocked, and he was about to deliver a curt reply, when suddenly she snatched the blindfold roughly from his eyes.

He blinked rapidly, his pupils taking a moment to adjust to the light.

"There....are you happy? Please tell me that will stop you from whining like a little bitch."

Loki's gaze came to rest on her exquisite form, which served to temporarily silence and appease him.
The sight of her curvaceous hips, her pert breasts, her shapely ass, far surpassed his already high expectations.
She was everything he'd fantasised she would be....and then some.

He watched with growing curiosity, becoming increasingly aroused, as she took hold of his belt, the one she had used to spank him with, and slinked towards him with determination in her large almond eyes.

Ah.
He could see where this was going.
The lovely Brunnhilde did have a kink for her men to be bound and helpless.
And he would run with that, he decided. Well, for now at least. Although she was sorely testing his patience and pushing him to the limits of his endurance.
His need to ravage her was growing with a rapid intensity.

"My my, Brunnhilde. You look ravishing."

"Save it, silver tongue. I'm not interested in your false flattery and pretty words."

She made short work of attaching his belt to the one that was already binding his hands, and affixed it to the headboard with relative ease.

"I see you've done this before." He grinned crookedly, but she did not bother responding.
She clearly had her mind on other things, as she stared down at his erect cock with hungry, glistening eyes.

It soon became apparent that he needn't have fretted over her not allowing him his turn yet, as all at once she was grasping his swollen shaft in a tightening, almost possessive, grip.

He let out a breathy gasp, as she proceeded to work him expertly with her small hand, her wrist movements fluid as she pumped away at his length, and his hips bucked almost imperceptibly in rhythm.

"Aren't you going to return the favour?" He rasped, choosing his next words deliberately, challenging her. "Though I doubt you could take me. You'd be at risk of dislocating your jaw."