Loki woke from a to a warm, wet tongue wrapping itself around his hardening cock. Without opening his eyes, he groaned, burying his fingers in his wife's long hair and fisting it. She splayed her open palm against his firm abdomen, smiling around his length when his muscles flexed as she ran her fingers along the downy trail of hair on his belly.

"Signe," he groaned.

"Mhmmm?"

She didn't bother pulling her mouth from him before responding. She knew he liked the feel her hum over his swelling cock. Signe smiled in satisfaction when he grunted and his grip tightened in her hair.

"Come here."

She started to refuse him, but her mumbled denial turned into a giggle as Loki rudely interrupted her, pulling her to him.

"I was enjoying myself," she pouted, exaggeratedly sticking out her lower lip.

Wrapping her slender fingers around his bobbing length, Signe made to lean forward once more but Loki growled and jerked her back by her hair. She often tortured him like this, dragging his groggy mind from sleep with her lips and tongue wreaking havoc on his sensory system.

Yanking her by her hair, he crushed his mouth against her lips, moving his free hand to run his fingers along the textured surface of the emerald and diamond collar he'd gifted her. He smirked to himself. Signe refused to remove it, claiming she'd grown accustomed to the weight of the heavy stones and found it comforting, a fact alone that made his cock harden. Signe proudly wore his ring, but there was a something more primal about having his brand around her neck that made the Prince crazy.

Signe's giggles immediately converted to moans as her husband plundered her mouth, punishing her for her reluctance to obey. Truly she didn't see the harm in going against his wishes if it meant getting his cock sucked, but her Prince got what he wanted in one way or another.

Whimpering when his teeth nipped at her lower lip, she wrapped her arm around his neck and crawled into his lap. Typically, sanity does not encourage moving toward the pain, but with Loki, the more it hurt, the more decadent the reward at the end.

When neither were capable of keeping their hips still a moment longer, Loki flipped them so that Signe was on her back. She lay with her wrists relaxed above her head, silently surrendering to her husband as he looked down at her ravenously. Holding himself up on one palm, he traced his finger along her dip in her collar bone and followed with his mouth. He kissed his way across her chest and neck, biting gently in warning each time she squirmed or tried to cant her hips against him.

His travels took him to her pulse point, and he nuzzled her necklace out of the way and latched his lips against her skin, making her breath hitch and her lower half wriggle.

Where she was emotional and spontaneous, Loki was slow and methodical and he used it against her. He had all the patience in the world and thoroughly enjoyed driving her insane. Despite his nips, the poor girl couldn't keep her hips still. Loki chuckled against her skin and laved his tongue over a bite mark scar he'd left on the juncture of her neck and shoulder he'd given her the in the woods on the morning he'd caught her running from him.

Signe gave a breathy moan, arching up to press the sensitive mark against his tongue. Loki pressed his palm flat against her chest to push her back against the bed, but she stubbornly clung to him until he settled some of his weight on her.

She practically purred, rolling her body beneath his and grinning in satisfaction as he groaned.

"Please, Loki," she breathed

The couple froze as a wail echoed throughout their room.

For most royal families, waking to a crying baby was avoided through the use of a wet-nurse. Loki, however, condemned all breastmilk that wasn't his wife's. The Prince almost ruined relations with the realm's entire population of nurses when he attempted to explain that theirs simply wasn't of the same quality as Signe's and couldn't properly sustain growing his son. Signe and Frigga managed to smooth over relations with the offended Asgardian women, but for many it was still a sensitive subject.

Ever the attentive father, fading raging erection or no, Loki moved to exit the bed but Signe gently tugged his wrist, her mouth hungrily seeking his for one more kiss before tending to their child.
"He's hungry," she said with a devious smile.

She slid from the bed, donning a deep green satin robe and padding to the fussing baby. Cooing as she picked him up, she stroked his little puff of hair as she sat in the grand rocking chair occupying Njall's corner of the room. Humming quietly, she pulled her robe off her shoulder, cradled the baby and helped him latch onto her nipple.

Loki loved Signe's breasts. He loved how they looked, how they felt, how they bounced when he fucked her. But watching his wife soothing and feeding their baby with her body made him react in ways he'd never expected.

When mother and son had finished, Signe kissed each of his cheeks before laying him down in his crib in the far corner of their room. It had been Loki's brilliant idea to keep Njall's crib soundproof from noises on the outside. They could still hear the baby, but no noises in the room penetrated the protective bubble Loki enchanted it with, and when they were intimate, Loki raised a protective screen between the bed and the crib. Njall was a good sleeper, but neither had any desire in accidentally putting on a show for the baby.

Halfway between Njall's screen and the bed, Signe's robe pooled to the floor and she sauntered nonchalantly back to her husband who stared at her with unblinking eyes and a smile that promised utter debauchery.

Signe perched on the edge of the bed as her husband crawled to her like a predator. He slid a finger along the side of her breast.

"Do they feel better, little peach? Not so sore?"

She nodded, whimpering and letting her head drop back, her long blonde curls tickling against her bare back as his hands caressed her chest.

Loki was rarely consciously manipulative of his wife anymore. The lessons he'd learned were hard and especially because Signe typically used refusing sex as a deterrent against incidents of bad behavior, which was overwhelmingly effective. But during sex, the bastard was manipulative as fuck. And she liked it. He teased her and taunted her until she was a whimpering mess, uncharacteristically begging shamelessly for her husband to do wonderfully dirty things to her.

Signe's attention was yanked back to reality when her husband's mouth closed over her nipple. The first time it happened after having Njall, she had been horrified. Her face flamed with embarrassment as she took in Loki's surprised expression and she reached for her robe. But Loki's face quickly morphed from stunned to wolfish as he wiped a dribble of milk from his lip and he heaved her back to him, promptly reattached his mouth to her breast.

The act was incredibly erotic, to Signe's surprise. It wasn't something she necessarily encouraged; aside from feeling self-conscious about it, Loki also tended to make a mess, but she certainly didn't mind the attention.

Her husband's hands and mouth wandered, placing gentle kisses. Near the end of her pregnancy when Loki had routinely tweaked a nipple, she cried out in far more pain that was typical. Since then, Loki's affections were much more delicate when it came to her breasts.

Just as she was getting lost in the feeling of his hands and mouth on her, Loki slid off the mattress and took Signe's and, leading her to their favorite bureau. It was the perfect height for her to wrap her legs around his hips and for him to thrust into her at the most perfect angle. The long dressing mirror to their definitely added to the location appeal as well.

Hoisting her as easily as he would a child, Loki lifted Signe atop the dresser. Her arms draped over his shoulders as he guided her legs around his hips. He dragged the head of his cock over her throbbing clit and with a moan, his wife's head fell back against a hanging tapestry and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Keep your eyes open," Loki rumbled.

She felt fingers tilt her chin as Loki forced her to focus her lust-filled eyes on his. Her jaw bobbed briefly as though she had a retort, but any sass evaporated before reaching her lips. His wife was articulate and eloquent, and it gave the prince a heady rush that only he had the power to reduce her to mewling and sex starved begging.

"Yes, my Prince," she mumbled languidly, grinning briefly when Loki groaned at her use of his title.

Unable to stand teasing either of them any longer, Loki sheathed himself in his wife with a single rough thrust. She gasped as her body adjusted to his size and twined her ankles together behind him. As he began to thrust, Loki nuzzled her cheek and jaw firmly to direct her gaze to the mirror at their side.

"Do you see how beautifully you take me? Your body was made for this," he whispered against her temple, "You look utterly divine with my cock buried inside of you. Only mine," he accented his point with an especially deep thrust that made her see white.

He increased the pace with which he drove into her, intentionally making it more difficult for her to respond. However far gone she was, Signe knew her husband, and she knew what he wanted to hear. Her pleasure-addled brain didn't have to formulate the sentence, she just needed to get it past her lips.

"Only yours, my love," she repeated breathily, grasping the back of his neck to pull his mouth to hers. Upon hearing her admission, his hips began to snap forcefully against hers, and he wasn't alone. Her hips met his with a repetitive slap as they each neared their peak. He could feel the pulsing throb of her around him and with a smirk he slid his hands to her bottom, lifting her in the air and stumbling to the wall next to them.

Warm back against the chilled surface, her fingers hurriedly searched the stones of the wall in search of purchase. Her shaking hands found and seized the top edge of the tapestry. Her fingers curled into the fabric as Loki pulled her hips from the wall in order to position her bent knees to the crooks of his elbows, which allowed him to steadily grip her hips. Brutally he began bouncing her. Signe's eyes slammed shut in delirious anticipation as Loki drew his hips back and slammed himself up into her. The change in angle was positively divine. With each thrust his hips slapped against her rear and his cock rubbed inside her at just the right position and rate.

Signe was completely powerless. The only control she had over the situation was the grip with which her little fingers seized the wall hanging with. It took her several of his thrusts (and Loki finally slowing down as punishment) to realize he was growling at her.

"Open your eyes and look at me or I won't let you come, little peach," he panted. Despite gasping for her own breath, internally she smirked. Loki liked to boast and use full sentences while they had sex, as if his intellect surpassed hers while coupling. But upon reopening her eyes, she saw clearly how far gone her husband was as he gazed down at her through half lidded eyes. She obeyed demurely, watching his face as he took her.

He tweaked the position just so by hoisting her hips up and she saw stars. His pelvis ground against her clit and hazily she realized the noises she heard were flowing from mouth in desperate pleas for him to go faster. Loki obliged, sending her skyrocketing into orgasm. Her plush walls squeezed around her husband's cock, begging him to find release in her. As she peaked, her grip on the tapestry weakened and she fell forward, wrapping her arms around Loki's shoulders. Holding her still, he pressed her back against the wall and hammered into her, finally sent over the edge as the tight squeeze of her velvet sheath coaxed thick ropes of come from him.

Slowly, eventually, they slid to the floor, Loki's shaking legs no longer able to hold them both. Collapsing on the floor, Signe laughed sleepily and curled against his side as he conjured them a small citadel of pillows and blankets to nestle in to. Loki pulled a soft green Afghan over his wife as her heavy breathing evened. He kissed her sweaty forehead and sighed contentedly as they fell asleep, both far too exhausted to stagger to the bed, despite it being fifteen feet away from their nest.

The rest of the castle was, for the most part, silent. Signe was seconds from sleep when from down the hallway she swore she heard the echoes of semi-thunderous trudging and the grumbling voice of her brother-in-law muttering something about soundproofing doors. Yawning, she turned to lay her head on Loki's chest as drifted to sleep with the tiniest smirk of satisfaction on her lips.