Over the course of the next several days, Loki made it a point just as much as Desdemona did to end up in each other's path. Somehow both just coincidentally read in the library, strolled the garden, and counted the stars from the tower at the same time. Loki behaved like a perfect gentleman with her, encouraging her to talk, learning about her past. Like most Midgardian princesses, she grew up in a royal prison, shielded from the reality of the world outside the castle walls. She had few friends, except for her mother and a handful of ladies-in waiting. Her days during her youth had been filled with lessons on gentility and duties to her future husband.

She had never voiced as much, but she ardently disliked Thor. Loki could see the pain in her eyes evey time he mentioned Thor's name. She would never forgive him for the slaughter of her people and brother. Unlike most royals, Desdemona saw her subjects as humans, not instruments meant to serve her every need. The compassion embedded in her soul made her that much more rare in Loki's eyes.

"I have to return to my husband." Desdemona said in a sad tone. They had been lounging on the terrace enjoying a flush of moths gleaming in the mist of twilight. Their wings ghostly shimmering like phantoms in the night.

He hugged her sweetly like a brother would a sister and said "Goodnight, my little Hug-Bug."

She bid him "Sweet dreams" before scurrying away.

As she tread to the chamber she shared with Thor, an odd thought penetrated her mind. Loki was her husband's brother, yet they were completely opposite. Thor was burly and strong where Loki was delicate and smart. She could not help but wonder if Loki would have been as brutish if Odin would have forced him to marry her instead. For some reason she did not think of him capable of such animalistic passion.

Now standing before the entry to her chamber, she closed her eyes, scolding herself for allowing her mind to travel to such sinful perversion. Thor was her husband now. To death do they part. Even though she would never love Thor, she would never betray him, not for his sake, but for her own.

So engrossed in her thoughts, she did not hear the sensual melody flourishing inside until it was too late. She stood, jaw dropping in shock at the sight of her ex-maid bent on all fours across the place Desdemona slept nightly, sobbing lustfully as Thor rammed her from behind. Her initial reaction was to squeal.

Startled,Thor withdrew and turned toward his wife's gaping mouth, his cock erect and dripping with cum from a previous ejaculation.

"Fuck!" Thor bellowed, angry that Desdemona had interrupted him at the moment he was about to spew.

Genevieve laughed purposely loud and wicked, reaching down to rub her cunt, keeping her rear arched. Thor would return to her. He always did.

Desdemona fled. She ran away from Thor, the hurt and pain. Wounded not from Thor's betrayal, but from the marriage that sought to choke the life from her body.

Thor sighed, shaking his head. He smacked the busty blonde on the rear, chuckling. "Did you have to laugh?"

"Sorry my lord." Genevieve shot back, not at all apologetic.

Thor thrust back inside of the spiteful wench, intent to finish what he started. He would deal with his wife later. It wasn't like she had anywhere else to go.