Catch Me
Chapter 4: Flower"Ah, sweetling! There you are."
Hesitantly, you enter the brightly lit room with a childlike grace on unsteady feet. The brazen smell of paint invades you senses, hitting you like a wall.
Inconspicuously, you attempt to withhold the disdain that is causing your face to scrunch up in order to fight back against the piercing stench, stopping your eyes from watering.
"My Prince…" You're unsure of your purpose here so you find this an appropriate greeting.
Loki approaches you with careful, tactical steps, creating a sense of dominance. Dominance mainly, over the fact that you are the only one in the room, so it seems, to be completely unaware of why he had sent for you.
"Hetheron came to me this morning with the idea of having a portrait of myself painted here to hang on the walls, but made the observation that the image of myself sitting in this chair appeared too empty."
A deliberate pause.
"He proposed I added a flower to brighten the image…and here you are."
Your heart sank.
"But My Lord, surely someone else-"
You were interrupted by his breathy laughter echoing through the room, accompanied by a chuckle from Hetheron, a good friend of yours who clearly, had somewhat of a talent for the creation of beautiful things.
"Oh pleeeaasseeeee." Hetheron drawled out, finishing with an over the top sigh of exasperation.
"My Prince?" Hetheron gestured to the chair.
"If you would, please."
Loki nodded and calmly took his place in the armchair, leisurely leaning his back against one arm and draping his long, lean legs over the opposite.
He then looked to you.
Gesturing with a tip of his head to his lap.
"No."
It came out before you could stop it, earning a raised eyebrow from Hetheron and a snarl from Loki.
"My apologies, but I am needed elsewhere." Creating a weak excuse, desperately hoping that Lady Seeva would enter the room at any minute, whisking you away to the safety of the kitchen.
But she did not.
"Yes. You are needed." The raven haired prince spoke up.
"On top of me." Giving you an infuriatingly sly smirk to finish off his inappropriate remark.
By this point, you were a blushing mess. Your face heated to the most alarming shade of red.
Looking on at your prince as it seemed rude to stare at the floor any longer, you were instantly chastising yourself for doing so.
He was patting his lap and licking his lips.
Beckoning you like an animal.
You took tentative steps forward, watching the floor move under your feet until you met the front of his chair.
When you made no further movements, Loki took the opportunity to grab you by the waist and hoist you onto himself with ease.
Bouncing you on his lap.
Your breaths hitched simultaneously.
Being uncomfortable, having the metal of his armor digging into your inner thigh, you shifted your weight to cover the skin with your dress that had hiked far too high up your legs, creating involuntary friction between the prince's groin and your own.
He jerked upwards.
Abruptly meeting eyes, you did not fail to miss the mischievous glint that flickered across his gaze, instantly killing the fire in yours.
What were you thinking, trying to show anger toward Loki? Loki?
As he took you by the waist a second time to reposition your upper half, displaying the curve of your back as you arched against him, trying to avoid any further adulterated friction, he carefully placed your head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat.
You could feel it.
He may as well have been running for his life, with the pace it was ticking.
Feeling as comfortable as you could in this situation, you allowed your eyes to wander the room. Admiring the intricately painted images lining the ceiling of beautiful women with wings of gold.
You had reached the feeling of serenity, until heated words carried by an equally fiery breath reached your ear.
"Caught you, little lamb."
