‘Oh boy male bodies react differently!’ went through his brain at high speed before thinking was just obliterated. His hands grabbed at Loki’s shoulders, trying to pin the other in place. He made no attempt to deepen the kiss, just lengthen it, utterly unwilling to break it.
Hands move to your hips, pressing you flush against the leather and armor covering Loki’s body. The god’s own reaction to your passion is quite evident. He purrs softly, tongue slipping out to trace your lips slightly, looking for an entrance. He rolls his hips a little, hard flesh seeking the same.
He can’t help his mouth falling open to Loki’s tongue, far less the gasp that’s provoked by the hip roll. As much torment as can be administered to female bodies, there is a unique torture to pressure applied to male anatomy, and Loki was more than applying it. “Gods, Loki,” he groaned.
“Praying to me already? But I’ve barely begun…” Loki kisses his way down your neck, biting gently at the tender flesh. He begins slowly backing you toward the bed, hands wandering to far more interesting areas. “Are you certain you want this, Summer?” Loki looks down at you, making sure you’re on board with this before he goes beyond his current actions; pushing you down to the bed, watching you with lust-darkened eyes.
“If you stop, I think I might kill you,” he mutters, hands trying to find the fastenings to Loki’s garb. “Or perish of curiosity myself, whatever.” Glancing up quickly, green eyes meet green ones. “No permanent marks, please? I’m curious, but not /that/ curious.”
Loki chuckles at the enthusiasm, his clothing glowing gold before most of it vanishes. He is left in his leather trousers, pale skin exposed to your touch. Slowly, he lifts you enough to pull off your shirt, trailing openmouthed kisses across your chest.
“How do you want this? Top, bottom…. I can even change my form to a woman if you’d prefer.” His line of questioning is perhaps made a bit more difficult to answer by his actions. His hands slowly move up your thighs to press gently, slowly massaging the hardness he finds between them.
The edge to his voice isn’t entirely annoyance when he replies. “How should I *gasp* know? You do what you like, call the shots, how’s that?” Grabbing at Loki’s shoulders, he precludes an answer by drawing the other into a fierce kiss.
