Her skin burned with every icy breath Loki exhaled. She wanted every inch of her skin against his, absorbing the burning intensity of his freezing body.
Them, fire and ice, in perfect equilibrium.
At first they were barely touching, and then they were pressing against each other, hungry for more, for everything. Sif's fingers slipped under Loki's collar, pressing against the soft skin on the back of his neck. His strong arms snaked around her back, crushing them together. Suddenly he stiffened.
"Sif," he breathed into her mouth.
She could tell it was taking all the effort he had to pause and speak. He didn't want to do this, or he did but he thought she didn't.
"I want this, Loki," she murmured into his ear.
The cold came off his skin in strong waves, turning their breaths to fog. Their eyes held each other, his arms still around her, her fingers curling into his hair. All at once Sif felt his fingers through her dress, pressing and pressing until the fabric had disappeared and it was just his skin burning her. His doublet began disappearing with agonizing slowness in lines of green light, and the temperature seemed to drop suddenly. Thin silvery lines traced his neck, ran all over his chest, circled his waist, wove between his legs and around his hips. They glowed when she touched them. Those blood red eyes looked right through her, and she felt the heat beginning to pulse low in her belly, begging for more of his hands on her back, her neck, breasts, thighs, mouth, everywhere.
With a gentle shove Loki pushed her back onto the bed, and the last threads of fabric melted away, leaving nothing but air between their naked bodies. He hovered over her for a moment, dark locks falling over them like a curtain, and pressed his mouth to the base of her throat. A hand pressed into her stomach, and she tensed all over, feeling heat winding around her torso from wherever his fingers grazed. His lips were just a distraction from his hands, which was all Sif could think of. She let out a whimper of frustration when he let his finger tips hover on her thigh, unmoving. He smiled against her collarbone.
"Greedy girl," he whispered, and pushed her legs apart slowly with his knees, hands carefully gripping her inner thigh. But he didn't continue.
Sif was aching, every nerve pulsing and squirming and wanting. His fingers were so close.
Loki pulled his face up and stared into her eyes, full of lust and anger and helplessness. He smiled wryly. He was about to ask her to beg for him, but stopped short when she began moving her free hand down her stomach to between her legs. The hand on her thigh quickly shot out and grabbed her wrist, wrenching it to the side. She writhed against his grip in vain, beads of sweat trickling down her neck to her breasts.
"Loki, please..." Her expression was agony as her chin tilted up and her lips parted. "Please..."
He bent over her, pressed his mouth against her navel, and dragged his tongue down, letting her hands go.
The coolness of his mouth quenched the fire burning between her legs like a thousand years of rain washing away a supernova, and Sif moaned and sighed and pulled his hair and shuddered and broke into pieces. When she was finally still Loki lifted his head and licked his lips, drinking her in. She was so very white against the black silk sheets, prone and unguarded and utterly, utterly beautiful. Staring down at her, hair splayed out, fingers softly curled, breasts heaving with each shaky breath, he felt sorrow for his brother.
He reclined himself beside her and ran a finger down her cheek, pressed his chest into her back and curled around her like a cocoon. Her sweat soaked hair warmed his frozen skin, and it smelled so deeply of her he pressed his nose against it and inhaled everything, memorising this scent to keep forever.
Sif absently trailed her fingers across her stomach. All the alcohol had suddenly left her blood, and her mind was clear as day.
She had already come too far to regret any of this.
She lifted her hand back and found Loki's neck, trailing her fingers up and burying them in his hair. His sweat was icy to the touch, and woke her up, heightening every sense. His hands wrapped around her waist, shifting her weight as she splayed her legs.
They made love lazily, attentively - incongruous to their frivolous and chaotic personalities. They moved together slowly, burning, burning burning, until they finally exploded around each other like two comets meeting.
When they were finally breathless, panting and heaving and dripping with each others sweat, their hands found each other's.
They fell asleep in each others arms, hands wound tightly together, never letting go.
i felt so embarrassed writing this lol. this is the first smutty scene i've actually attempted writing. hope its not too gross and weird...
yes it is a little short, but i just wanted to keep this bit in isolation so...