Every touch causes her to twitch at the surprise of it. His voice is like a lifeline, something to cling to, and she can’t help her head turning to try to follow it. She wants to say his name, wants to respond, and has no idea how one does so, bound up as she is. The best she can do is a whimper.
“One day,” Loki murmurs as he gently lowers her onto her back, situating her bound hands above her head so he can get at her abdomen, “you will finally believe when I, and others, say you are beautiful. I could watch you all day, writhing at my touch.” He slowly lifts her shirt, just to expose her stomach, caressing the fair skin there. Loki leans in and kisses her through the gag. His touches remain more or less innocent, simply getting her used to feeling him on her skin.
There’s no reason Loki’s hands on her skin should feel so erotic, but they do. Is it because she is helpless to his touch? Is it something in his voice? It’s a glorious voice, made more so by her focus on it now; if the velvet binding her eyes had a sound it would be his voice. The muscles in her stomach twitch under his cool hands, and she can’t help arching her back into the touch.
Slowly, Loki’s lips move down Summer’s neck. He groans softly as she arches against him, pressing her hip against the leather containing his steel hard length. The god trails hot kisses down her collarbone and across the swell of her breasts, though never moving under the fabric of her shirt. He has many more hours still, and he seems perfectly content to take his time and kiss every inch of her skin.
He looks up as he moves to kiss across her stomach while his hand begins an exploration of her thighs. Once again, he remains respectful and doesn’t touch where she expects except for a few accidental brushes of his fingertips. “Darling, beautiful Summer…” Loki pauses, sighing a little and blowing lightly on her stomach, “even though you can’t speak… I don’t want you to hold back. I want to hear every whimper and sigh… And don’t worry about the fire. I won’t be harmed by it. I want you to relax completely.”
Summer wails, pitifully and low in her throat. Relax? How can she relax? With his hands, his voice, she can’t see or move herself … determinedly she forces her muscles to loosen and blows her breath out. Every ‘accidental brush’ induces a whimper, his breath across her skin a sighing sob. She wants, and he’s teasing, and she’s helpless. Trying to hold a picture of the scene in her mind, she reaches out with her feet, trying to lock Loki in with her legs.
Loki laughs as she locks her legs around his shoulders, prompting him to push her thighs wide as he moves back up her body. “You can feel it, how much I want you. You feel my emotions…” He arches his hips against her, pressing himself against her in slow circles. One hand moves up to push her shirt all the way up. Now exposed to his view, he gazes down on her newly revealed flesh before letting his lips explore it.
‘God, yes,’ is all she can think, starting to writhe under his touch again. The pun makes her giggle, but he has a point — well more than one point if she’s honest — and she lets him feel her desire, her amusement, even while she’s starting to moan more desperately. Untwining her feet, she haphazardly tries to tickle him a bit, but her concentration is totally disrupted by what he’s doing to her.
Loki gently entwines his fingers in her hair, slowly tugging her hair back. He leans in, his lips brushing her ear. “Here, kitty, kitty…” His voice is a low purr. His tongue flickers out to tease her ear lobe before nipping it lightly. “Now, what shall I do with you…
“Wha—” Summer’s cry of surprise is choked off almost immediately by the satin gag that loops itself into her mouth. She reaches up to scrabble at the fabric and is stopped by the silk twining itself around her wrists, the sight of it blocked by the velvet blindfold wrapped over her eyes. Senses down to touch and sound and empathy, she freezes in place under Loki’s hand, the soft black velvet collar and lead latching into place about her throat. Only the fact that her mind recognises this Loki keeps her from lashing out with fire as she shudders under his mouth.
Perhaps unlike some others she has encountered, Loki doesn’t try and curb his desire for her. Grinning, he gives the leash a teasing tug. “You will find, my dear, that removal of some senses enhance the others.” He trails the backs of his fingers across her cheek before pulling her hair over across one shoulder. After a teasing moment his lips trail over her skin. He toys with the silk holding her wrists, smiling against her skin. “I think I shall enjoy this particular addition to the game.
Every touch causes her to twitch at the surprise of it. His voice is like a lifeline, something to cling to, and she can’t help her head turning to try to follow it. She wants to say his name, wants to respond, and has no idea how one does so, bound up as she is. The best she can do is a whimper.
“One day,” Loki murmurs as he gently lowers her onto her back, situating her bound hands above her head so he can get at her abdomen, “you will finally believe when I, and others, say you are beautiful. I could watch you all day, writhing at my touch.” He slowly lifts her shirt, just to expose her stomach, caressing the fair skin there. Loki leans in and kisses her through the gag. His touches remain more or less innocent, simply getting her used to feeling him on her skin.
There’s no reason Loki’s hands on her skin should feel so erotic, but they do. Is it because she is helpless to his touch? Is it something in his voice? It’s a glorious voice, made more so by her focus on it now; if the velvet binding her eyes had a sound it would be his voice. The muscles in her stomach twitch under his cool hands, and she can’t help arching her back into the touch.
Slowly, Loki’s lips move down Summer’s neck. He groans softly as she arches against him, pressing her hip against the leather containing his steel hard length. The god trails hot kisses down her collarbone and across the swell of her breasts, though never moving under the fabric of her shirt. He has many more hours still, and he seems perfectly content to take his time and kiss every inch of her skin.
He looks up as he moves to kiss across her stomach while his hand begins an exploration of her thighs. Once again, he remains respectful and doesn’t touch where she expects except for a few accidental brushes of his fingertips. “Darling, beautiful Summer…” Loki pauses, sighing a little and blowing lightly on her stomach, “even though you can’t speak… I don’t want you to hold back. I want to hear every whimper and sigh… And don’t worry about the fire. I won’t be harmed by it. I want you to relax completely.”
Summer wails, pitifully and low in her throat. Relax? How can she relax? With his hands, his voice, she can’t see or move herself … determinedly she forces her muscles to loosen and blows her breath out. Every ‘accidental brush’ induces a whimper, his breath across her skin a sighing sob. She wants, and he’s teasing, and she’s helpless. Trying to hold a picture of the scene in her mind, she reaches out with her feet, trying to lock Loki in with her legs.
Loki gently entwines his fingers in her hair, slowly tugging her hair back. He leans in, his lips brushing her ear. “Here, kitty, kitty…” His voice is a low purr. His tongue flickers out to tease her ear lobe before nipping it lightly. “Now, what shall I do with you…
“Wha—” Summer’s cry of surprise is choked off almost immediately by the satin gag that loops itself into her mouth. She reaches up to scrabble at the fabric and is stopped by the silk twining itself around her wrists, the sight of it blocked by the velvet blindfold wrapped over her eyes. Senses down to touch and sound and empathy, she freezes in place under Loki’s hand, the soft black velvet collar and lead latching into place about her throat. Only the fact that her mind recognises this Loki keeps her from lashing out with fire as she shudders under his mouth.
Perhaps unlike some others she has encountered, Loki doesn’t try and curb his desire for her. Grinning, he gives the leash a teasing tug. “You will find, my dear, that removal of some senses enhance the others.” He trails the backs of his fingers across her cheek before pulling her hair over across one shoulder. After a teasing moment his lips trail over her skin. He toys with the silk holding her wrists, smiling against her skin. “I think I shall enjoy this particular addition to the game.
Every touch causes her to twitch at the surprise of it. His voice is like a lifeline, something to cling to, and she can’t help her head turning to try to follow it. She wants to say his name, wants to respond, and has no idea how one does so, bound up as she is. The best she can do is a whimper.
“One day,” Loki murmurs as he gently lowers her onto her back, situating her bound hands above her head so he can get at her abdomen, “you will finally believe when I, and others, say you are beautiful. I could watch you all day, writhing at my touch.” He slowly lifts her shirt, just to expose her stomach, caressing the fair skin there. Loki leans in and kisses her through the gag. His touches remain more or less innocent, simply getting her used to feeling him on her skin.
There’s no reason Loki’s hands on her skin should feel so erotic, but they do. Is it because she is helpless to his touch? Is it something in his voice? It’s a glorious voice, made more so by her focus on it now; if the velvet binding her eyes had a sound it would be his voice. The muscles in her stomach twitch under his cool hands, and she can’t help arching her back into the touch.
Loki gently entwines his fingers in her hair, slowly tugging her hair back. He leans in, his lips brushing her ear. “Here, kitty, kitty…” His voice is a low purr. His tongue flickers out to tease her ear lobe before nipping it lightly. “Now, what shall I do with you…
“Wha—” Summer’s cry of surprise is choked off almost immediately by the satin gag that loops itself into her mouth. She reaches up to scrabble at the fabric and is stopped by the silk twining itself around her wrists, the sight of it blocked by the velvet blindfold wrapped over her eyes. Senses down to touch and sound and empathy, she freezes in place under Loki’s hand, the soft black velvet collar and lead latching into place about her throat. Only the fact that her mind recognises this Loki keeps her from lashing out with fire as she shudders under his mouth.
Perhaps unlike some others she has encountered, Loki doesn’t try and curb his desire for her. Grinning, he gives the leash a teasing tug. “You will find, my dear, that removal of some senses enhance the others.” He trails the backs of his fingers across her cheek before pulling her hair over across one shoulder. After a teasing moment his lips trail over her skin. He toys with the silk holding her wrists, smiling against her skin. “I think I shall enjoy this particular addition to the game.
Every touch causes her to twitch at the surprise of it. His voice is like a lifeline, something to cling to, and she can’t help her head turning to try to follow it. She wants to say his name, wants to respond, and has no idea how one does so, bound up as she is. The best she can do is a whimper.
“Wha—” Summer’s cry of surprise is choked off almost immediately by the satin gag that loops itself into her mouth. She reaches up to scrabble at the fabric and is stopped by the silk twining itself around her wrists, the sight of it blocked by the velvet blindfold wrapped over her eyes. Senses down to touch and sound and empathy, she freezes in place under Loki’s hand, the soft black velvet collar and lead latching into place about her throat. Only the fact that her mind recognises this Loki keeps her from lashing out with fire as she shudders under his mouth.
I might leave off the blindfold and gag for you. Your eyes are stunning, and you make the most delightful little noises when you’re lustful… *grins wickedly*
Oh, well, you don’t get any of it until you actually send me the note. Besides, I believe part of the fun is in taking said equipment off during play.
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.
With a growl, Loki breaks the kiss. “As you wish. I am not the most gentle of lovers, at times, and was simply giving you the benefit of deciding how you wanted it.”
”Oh dear gods of hell …” he breathes as soon as she takes him in. The sense of her words registers a moment later. “If you move I’m not actually sure I can take it.” Obedient all the same, he rakes one hand down her side, relishing the feel of her skin under his fingers, while the other goes back to work between her thighs.
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.
With a growl, Loki breaks the kiss. “As you wish. I am not the most gentle of lovers, at times, and was simply giving you the benefit of deciding how you wanted it.”
It’s a strange feeling, this sense of being surrounded by another. His hands aren’t really much bigger than they were as a female, so he starts off rubbing his thumb as instructed while slipping two fingers into Loki, trying to do the things he remembers feeling good to his female body.
Her hands in his hair is pretty nice too. Maybe it’s just him not being used to having short hair, but his scalp seems a lot more sensitive. Actually, right now /everything/ is sensitive, and gods, he /wants/ her. He’s trying desperately to be obedient to Loki’s instructions, but it’s hard, and that’s a pun he wishes he hadn’t thought of just now.
Slowing his fingers down, he withdraws his hand from her, curious to see what will happen.
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.
With a growl, Loki breaks the kiss. “As you wish. I am not the most gentle of lovers, at times, and was simply giving you the benefit of deciding how you wanted it.”
The swearing begins almost immediately. Head thrown back, hands scrabbling at the sheets, desperately trying to decide whether to hold stock still or writhe under Loki’s tongue. The feeling of being enclosed, rather than enclosing, is more than a little different that he’d ever imagined in his wildest flights of fancy. Teeth clenched, he manages, “It’s considered bad if I spill too soon, right? ‘N this,” punctuated by a sharply-drawn breath, “you can do to me if you’re female. Please be female. Ogods!”
