I know, right? Finally! Took them long enough. And it's not at all the writer's fault for dragging this out for so long...

XIII. One

Yes!, a voice from somewhere within her cried out. Its jubilant acclaim coursed through her, melting all the tension as his lips moved persistently against her own, warm and soft. It was as though she had been holding her breath since their last encounter of this kind. Now it left her with a deflating sigh that disappeared within the ardent kiss. She sank into the embrace, instinctively tilting her head go give him better access. His free hand caught her nape below the mass of silver hair, while the one at her chin coaxed her lower lip to part from the upper.

As soon as she conceded, Loki made a triumphant sound deep in his throat, his tongue pushing into her mouth. Caressing, carousing, sliding deeper when she answered, not quite knowing what she did. Ljosira could taste him, that inexplicable, heady flavour which had haunted her dreams and now seemed to be everywhere around her. It was exhilarating.

A wild thrill, a dance to a rhythm unknown to her. Somehow he took the fear and uncertainty of it from her with the pressure of his lush mouth, the growing warmth of his body. His head bent a little, lips grazing lightly along her cheek, the line of her jaw, to the perfect rim of her ear. The tip of his tongue flicked over the sensitive shell, making her draw a shuddering breath. One hand settled high on her chest, right where her heart thrummed in a frantic race as though determined to escape its cage and soar towards freedom.

"Will you still not tell me your secret? Why you have been distant and distracted? Or do you need more persuasion?", his voice sounded like the purr of a cat, its heated rush vibrating through her body.

"I…", Ljosira said, then stopped. Loki pulled back to seek her gaze and saw the flash of silver as she struggled to read his aura.

"You cheat, dragon.", he rebuked her gently. Mirth danced in his dark, mesmerizing eyes. She stood still for a long moment, dazed and overwhelmed, a high blush blooming on her porcelain skin.

"Is it fear? You are not afraid of me, are you?" Her head gave a tiny jerk.

"No.", she whispered.

"Good.", he asserted, and then kissed her again.

She felt the change in him, in the way he pulled her to his chest. It was an unstoppable flame that made her tingle all over. A thousand tiny wings of anticipation fluttered in her stomach, heat gathered at an intimate place lower in her body, spreading in delightful waves through every part of her. She lifted her hands to touch his face, explore the smooth texture of his skin, the patch below his jaw where it felt bristly and just a little rough.

Loki was overcome by a sensation he knew was not his own. A swooping plunge from a great height, mighty wings outstretched as he soared above the first of all trees, its beauty unfolding before him. A bit of her magic, seeping into him to communicate the closest comparison she had to what she felt right now. She had no true concept of desire, of the burning need to unite with another in the most original joining there is. Such things were mortal. Rampant, burning out of control, consuming. Ljosira knew the dangers of these wiles, but had never experienced them first-hand.

She offered no resistance when his hands picked up their previous journey, roaming freely over every inch of skin he could reach. And how could she resist? After these long weeks of being in each other's proximity, the tiniest touches that lured her with the promise of more, this felt like giving in to an aching need, a necessity that would not be denied. Straining against him, she searched for his wicked mouth, the silken finesse of his tongue, and he gave it to her at once.

She felt an insistent pressure at her lower stomach as he anchored her with his own body, but had little time to wonder about it. His fingers fumbled with the ties of her dress, drawing an irritated sound from him when he was confounded by the vexing contraption. With a quick wave of his hand, every single lace disentangled at once. There was no hesitation. Loki pushed the loose fabric over the smooth curve of her shoulder, and before she knew it, the whole dress fell in a heap of shimmering folds to her feet.

It left her with nothing but a thin strip of undergarment around her waist. Exposed, painfully… naked, although that should not have been embarrassing. Clothes were a mortal invention. But nobody had ever looked at Ljosira the way Loki did now, with a ravenous hunger that was indeed a little frightening. Ashamed, she tried to cover herself but he caught her hands in his.

"Don't hide from me. Don't make me chase you down, elusive thing.", he breathed, guiding one of her hands to the hard ridge between his thighs without preamble. Shocked by his bluntness, she jolted, but did not pull away. "This is what you do to me. You have worn my restraint so thin it's threadbare. Never hide from me.", he emphasized in a dark, velvet tone that allowed no objection.

Thankfully he divested himself of his own clothes, because she still had little notion how to handle the convoluted things, and no mental faculties left to puzzle it out. The instant he was free of the confining fabric, he simply wrapped an arm around her legs and lifted her, pushing aside the gauze curtains of her bed. Soft fur and sleek silk tickled her back as he laid her down on the sheets and paused to take her in. She was moonlight tonight, mercurial and flawless in the cool silver glow that streamed in through the balcony.

Finally he could feel her skin to skin, let his lips wander along the hollow of her throat which had been the object of his notice so many times. Ljosira arched beneath him as he quested out to discover all of her, to know all her secrets. His fingers moved over her shoulders, down her arms, skimmed up the little ridges of her ribcage to cup her breast. He played with the hardened tip, running his thumb over it in a maddeningly light touch, until she gave an urgent, soft moan.

Where had that come from? What drove her to reach for him and bury her hands into his raven hair, dig her fingers into his muscular shoulder? She had never seen a naked man before, much less felt the weight of one press down on her persistently, as though he would melt into her. Tiny delightful prickles raced over every place he journeyed to, a liquid fire that pooled at the junction of her legs. Which seemed to be the destination he headed to, his touch becoming more inquisitive as it went down the flat of her stomach, slithered beneath the shred of undergarment. She rubbed her legs together in some act of mere instinct and felt his fingertips search through the downy little mound.

"Open for me, my light. Let me touch you there.", Loki cajoled, almost pleadingly. Ljosira obeyed and he took the advantage at once, delving into that most secret place, parting the folds of heated flesh to find a spot so sensitive and aching, saturated with moisture. He dipped his fingers to the narrow entrance to her body, slipping inside just barely. An uncontained groan rose in his chest, a sound so utterly wicked, primal… it made all her muscles tighten in anticipation of… of what? She didn't know. But she knew she would fray and scatter if she did not reach it soon.

The clear sign of his arousal brushed over her thigh, heavy and hard, yet so smooth at the same time. She sensed that he hovered at the edge of control, fighting a losing battle. The life-bond brimmed with the desperate, mad need to be inside her, be one, a whole thing. Loki tried to bridle it, but the voice of reason was a feeble whisper compared to what the rest of him clamoured for. When he hooked a finger into the last bit of cloth separating him from her, Ljosira protested thinly.

"Loki… Wait…", she mumbled into his searching mouth, and at the same time she did nothing to stop him, rather pulled him closer. Fickle woman. Her hand merely swished through the air, bolting the lock on the door. That act made the decision for him.

"No more waiting.", Loki said unevenly. With a feline grace he moved above her, adjusting his body to hers until she felt the hard, silken tip of his arousal pushing against her centre. It forged its way into her relentlessly, stretching the virginal tightness that had never known such invasion before. Ljosira opened her mouth to object, because surely this couldn't be right, this wasn't supposed to hurt? It stung, throbbed and burned, but Loki seemed to notice none of that. His face was tense with concentration, deep creases on his brow as he squeezed his eyes shut at the sheer ambush of sensation. Too good. Too tight, gripping him in her snug, wonderfully wet heat. Unable to contain himself, his hips gave a forceful push and he lodged himself inside her all the way, to the hilt.

Ljosira's sharp cry of pain brought him back to reality like a hammer-strike. Maiden. Of course she was, you idiot! She had no idea what you would do and you just took her innocence like a brute – Loki opened his eyes, momentarily doused by the shocked expression on her face. She had gone very still, a deep nick between her fine brows, her fingers clenching and unclenching around steeled muscles of his shoulder. His lungs laboured to draw air, mind and body torn between the wish to reassure her and the need for release.

"Forgive me.", he muttered hoarsely, bending down for an exceedingly tender kiss. The honest care in his apology overwhelmed her. He rarely ever apologized for anything. She shook her head, throat too tight to speak. He resolved not to move until she gave him some sign, but the way she wiggled beneath him, adjusting to the new sensation, drawing him even deeper – it didn't help at all. The raw, male instinct to move, to claim her, lose himself in her threatened to overpower him. When she stretched to graze the tense lines on his face with her lips, muttering soft words of encouragement, he found it impossible to stay still. He began to move in slow, shallow thrusts. A careful rhythm like gentle waves hitting a bank of sand.

Ljosira felt the pain fade into the background, overtaken by the ardent flame of pleasure that made her back arch for more, her breaths interrupted by small, impulsive whimpers. He seemed to be everywhere, braided himself into the fabric of her being even more than before, tangled up in it until she knew not which was her and which was him. Fleetingly, she understood that they had been heading towards this all along, it had been inevitable. Let go of the notion that you are dragon, and nothing else. Down here, you are a woman. That was what those words meant.

And then there was only the rising tide of his passion that washed over her with every deep, filling thrust, sweeping her away. The fragrance of his skin, the compelling urgency of his tongue, the weight of his body. His caution faltered when she wrapped her legs around his waist. Loki knew he wouldn't last. She felt too right, as though made for him, the perfect fit. And she was his, finally. The rush of triumph made his movements turn erratic, no longer coordinated but rather pure instinct, falling into a natural rhythm.

Forehead pressed against hers, he mumbled her name between senseless words, frantic gasps. And then, with a forceful push he nudged so deeply inside her as he could, tumbling them both into a blinding nova of rapture. Through this enveloping haze, Ljosira felt his body tense and shudder uncontrollably, heard the loud moan escape his throat as he trembled like a plucked string with the force of his release. She gloried in that inexplicable sensation, tried to draw it out so it would last, yet it was too volatile and wild to be chased down.

As she came back into herself, Loki seemed to relax, the strain leaving his muscles. He blanketed her with his full weight while his breathing returned to a measured pace. Ljosira opened her eyes to find him gazing down on her. How did he manage to look both amused and endearing? Her exhausted heart made a funny little leap.

"This was… different.", he whispered, planting a lazy kiss into the corner of her mouth. Ljosira frowned at him.

"What do you mean?", she asked. "Is it not usually like this?" So worldly innocent, this dragon princess. Loki could not hold back a low laugh at her naivety.

He did not answer right away, instead relieved her of his weight and shifted onto the bed, covering them both with a cool silken sheet. Ljosira turned to face him, her features still immersed in moonlight. His hand settled onto the gentle slope of her waist.

"In all your years, you have never looked in on mortals doing this wicked dance?" His lips quirked with mirth. She looked absolutely scandalized by the notion.

"Of course not! Do you peek through other's windows when the curtains are drawn? Oh, you probably would, trickster.", she grumbled to herself.

"You peeked through my window, and I definitely had the curtains drawn.", Loki reminded her, still smiling. Although his obvious amusement at her expense was quite annoying, Ljosira could not help but notice how light-hearted he seemed, carefree.

"Yes… Well… You didn't answer my other question. Is it usually like this?", she repeated. He turned more serious then, regarding her pensively.

"No. It is not typically this… intense. This was something else.", he answered, but didn't elaborate. Instead his eyes travelled over her features as though he could somehow extricate the solution to a great mystery from them. Her lids fluttered with sleepiness, all of her softened by a comfortable exhaustion. On the verge of slumber, fulfilled. She nuzzled into the crook of his arm.

Loki wasn't used to this kind of affection, this casual closeness. He had never allowed such things to reach him, not even when taking a woman to bed. They were always sent on their way afterwards. And now he felt strangely at peace with Ljosira there, tucked to his shoulder. For the first time in years, there were no schemes forming in his mind, no driving anger in his soul, no whisper pushing him to prove his worth.

The darkness of night is a double-edged blade. It cloaks the world with a veil to hide both fears and secret desires, and yet into its velvet depths, lost souls everywhere whisper their loneliness. Loki had loved the night. And hated it. Now he had this flickering flame to light the path, soothing and soft, slowly burrowing her way into his heart. He knew it was dangerous, made him vulnerable.

And yet, what did he have to lose? His grand plans had failed. It felt like he had been fighting against the misfortune of his slanted life with a vengeance for ages. So tiresome. It drained the soul of all joy. Ljosira stifled a yawn and let out a small sigh. Her stillness was a thing of marvel, like the eye of a storm. Silent, utterly calm. Is this peace?

"You look like you are in deep thought.", she said, her voice thick with encroaching sleep. She lifted one lazy hand, her fingers feathering across his forehead. "Your brow… it creases that way when your mind is occupied."

"Reading me like an open book, are you?", he inquired in a playful sort of way. Ljosira gave him an arch look.

"Hardly. If so, you are the most convoluted book ever written." He smirked at the odd, mocking compliment.

"Have I ever told you that you are beautiful? Because you are. Now more than ever.", he said, seemingly out of context. She blinked and then surveyed him through half-lowered lashes.

"That was not a lie." She sounded thoroughly baffled.

"Always the tone of surprise.", Loki sighed in fake insult. But she had already drifted off, her breaths deep and even, a shy smile curving her lips. He leaned over her, brushing a kiss to her closed eyelids as he whispered the next words.

"No lies between us, my light. What would be the point?"