Prompt - You make me want things I can't have.
"So eager," Sif laughed, her back against the cool wall in the private chamber in the Royal wing of the palace. Loki's hands pulled constricting fabric off of her shoulders, tearing a seam in his haste.
She had looked so resplendent at the feast in her her wine-colored gown with the circlet that adorned her brow mirroring the shape of her winged helmet. He couldn't wait to tear it from her body.
Instead of responding, Loki alternated kisses, nips, and flicks of his tongue down her neck and to her newly exposed breasts. Sif let out something that was a mix of a gasp and a sigh, one hand carding through his hair and scraping at his scalp in approval. His fingers danced over the sensitive skin of her ribs and lower, sliding under the fabric of her ruined gown at her waist. Despite his tugging, the silk refused to budge. Loki scraped his teeth against her breast in frustration, but drew only a laugh from her.
"Was there something you wanted?" Her voice was husky and unhurried. She tugged from where her hand was buried deep in his hair and brought his face up to hers, skimming her teeth against his lower lip before kissing him deeply. Loki groaned and rocked his hips into her, the abundant cups of mead coursing through his veins and the taste of her making him reckless.
"You make me want things I can't have." He dropped his lips to her collar bone, tucking his face away from his admission.
"What desires are prohibited to a prince?" Sif asked, her laugh cut off when a hand swiftly picked up her thigh and hooked it around his waist and then a warm palm slid under her skirts. Fingers crept up, finding her center and gliding in a slow touch to part and tease her lips. Sif's hips bucked and Loki returned his gaze to meet hers, leaning in close.
"The second-born prince," he hissed and quickened the stroking of his fingers against her folds. Sif moaned, throwing her head back in pleasure and he couldn't help but think of the way she'd looked wrapped in his brother's arms as they took a turn around the dance floor, her head thrown back to laugh, his father's approving smile.
"The choice in my own future," Loki sneered and thought bitterly of how much of his life was dictated by decorum and duty, "is forbidden to me."
Sif dropped her head and met his gaze, her eyes searching. Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, she pulled him closer, her lips brushing his as she spoke.
"The future is for the Norns," her voice was breathless and she rocked into his persistent touch. "But tonight is ours."
She kissed him, hard and deep and steady and he clung to her. She didn't stop until his fingers found her clitoris and caressed a desperate circle over and over and she was undone, gasping his name in into his mouth.
Tonight. He thought, drinking in her words, her lips. Tonight was indeed theirs. Tonight, this would be enough.