Chapter Fourteen

Tom continued to rest and heal from the bullet wound. You noticed that he could get up and walk without having to limp or wince.

"You feeling better, Tom?" You ask him late one night, sitting by him on the couch.

"I feel well actually. I don't think I need to wear the bandage."

"You should just keep it on till your appointment, which is on Tuesday." You point out, and he sighs.

"It itches, though!" He whines, and you grin, shaking your head.

"You'll get it off soon, babe. Don't complain." You tease.

"Mm, I'll have to be persuaded." Tom says, wiggling both eyebrows.

"Not to complain? Hmm, how on earth am I supposed to persuade you?" You pretend to not know.

He rolls his eyes and leans in, kissing you. You kiss him back, placing your hands on his chest, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Tom picks you up and places you on his lap, so your straddling him. You pull away from his lips, breathless, and look down at him.

"Are you sure about this? I mean I could rip your stitches."

Tom just looks up at you, putting on his puppy dog eyes. You can't resist those eyes.

"Tom!" You complain, and sigh. "Fine. It's not my fault if your stitches rip." You laugh, and then bring his lips back to yours.

Tom laughs, groaning as you move your lips down to his throat and his neck. "More..." He whispers, and you start unbuttoning his shirt.

He moves his fingers down your arm lazily, then down to the bottom of your shirt. His fingers slip under, making you shiver as he makes contact with your stomach.

As soon as you get his shirt off, treading carefully around his wound, you trace his scar from the wound, then move to his pants. He has your shirt in his hands, and is now fiddling with your bra. You chuckle and help him slip it off you.

He brings his hands up to your breasts, placing both hands there and squeezes lightly. That brings a little moan from you, so he tries a different tactic. His finger flicks at your nipple, and you gasp in surprise behind the force of his fingers. "Again, Tom..." You moan, slipping your hands into his hair.

Tom smirks and flicks them again, and rubs circles into your nipple. You gasp again, louder this time. Sliding your hands down to his pants, you unbutton them and slide them off him.

He lets your nipples go, and also moves down to your pants. You look up at him, and he does the same. In that moment, you knew that you wanted it. He had that same look, and you smiled lightly before stripping him of the rest of his clothing.

You wait for him to finish undressing you, and then he inserts himself into you, as you still straddle him. He pulls you down onto the couch, and starts to kiss you heavily while he moves with you.

"Tom...a little...yes!" You cry every second you have breath. He's having a hard time speaking, and your grinning about that.

As you both come up to your highs a while later, you lean against Tom, sweaty and exhausted. Tom's the same way, his heart beating against his chest wildly. For a second, you think he's about to pass out.

"You okay there, god of mischief?" You tease, curling his hair on your finger.

"Loki never gets tired like this. Though Tom does." He yawns, and smiles shyly.

"Well, Tom can rest. If I'm talking to Loki, then that's going to be a problem." You grin.

"A problem? And why would that be?" He teases, pushing your hair out of your face.

"Because I might not get to sleep. I might be up with him all night." You confess.

"Well Loki can't handle himself. He might try something. But your not talking to him." Tom says quickly.

"Who am I talking to? It's certainly not Tom." You chuckle.

"Hmm, maybe Tom's tired of being Tom."

"Then who are you?"

"I am King Henry." He yawns again.

"King Henry, huh? Tell me, Henry, what does one say in your time?"

"But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive." He recites, closing his eyes.

"You really love Shakespeare then, to be able to quote it by memory." You whisper.

"I do. But I love you more." He comments, and then within that same second, he's asleep. You lay against him, feeling the pull of sleep flooding your body, and let it overcome you.