He was a prince to a realm full of magic and wonder. He was a god to mortals with myths and legends dedicated to him, centuries before I was born. He was a sorcerer of unimaginable talent and cunning. To many, he was a cunning and power-hungry villain with derange ideas of grandeur. To me, he was the enchanting man who took my hand and lead me into steaming hot shower with him.

His wet slender fingers intertwined with mine as he gently pulled me close to him. Stepping over the lip of the marble shower, I was immediately hit with sodden heat. My silk gown clung to every curve, slowly soaking in vapor. The fabric creased around my hips and breasts as it cinched around my waist. I felt my nipples stiff as the gown exposed their hardness. I was practically naked. The sheer silk left nothing to the imagination, just a thin dampening veil.

With deft fingers, Loki slipped under a golden cuff that held my shoulder strap to the rest of my gown. His slender finger teasingly tugged it away from my skin. "Wouldn't want to ruin your pretty dress, yes?" he asked flirtatiously.

I bit my lip and nodded. Loki plucked the clasp and watched it fabric fall to my waist, exposing one breast to the humid air. He snapped the left one and soon my chest was bare. His hands skimmed my supple mounds with light attention, sliding down along the curves of my waist, and slithering into the fabric that still clung desperately to my hips. His touch quelled my sweltering skin.

Loki's cold sea-colored eyes were fixed on mine. I wanted to wander lower, and give is body all the attention it deserved, but his gaze was hypnotic. His jaw was a stiff sharp ridge as his mouth formed a serious, yet inviting, line. I wanted to kiss those lips. Relieve them of the burden they held. Yet, under his gaze and with his fingers brushing my skin, I refused to move. I refused to break this beautiful moment.

His hands gripped my tender flesh and pulled me against his hard wet body. Thin trickles of water cascaded from his soaked raven hair, down his face, over his lips, and poured over the rest of him like rivers cutting through stone. We shared that thread of water as our stomachs touched. I could feel the water drip below my waist, soaking into the dress, yet still it clung to my thighs, and spilled down my legs in spiral.

Loki took one hand off my hip and slipped his fingers into my dampened hair, lifting my head slightly. His face inched closer. My heart thrummed heavily as our lips met. The cold soft embrace like fresh fallen snow pressed against my eager kiss. A fine stream of water spilled into my mouth from his lip as I parted for him. Our tongues dancing together with the slow trickle of rain. He pulled away, but I impatiently nibbled his bottom lip, trying to lure him back. With a grin, he humored me, deepening the embrace. My stomach was enraptured by the subtle fiery licks of passion as it surged pleasantly throughout my veins.

Cold fingertips grazed my flushed cheeks. He took my face in a light grasp and held me still so he could pull himself away. I bit my lip, savoring the decadently sweet taste of his kiss.

"Did you miss me?" Loki whispered.

I nodded. "Did you miss me?" I asked back. I searched his eyes for an answer. Some glistening sensitivity that could convince me that I was doing the right thing. At the very least, that I wasn't doing the wrong thing.

His eyes were the same sharp mazarine blue. Like expertly cut pale sapphires dancing in a hypnotic trance. It was the kind of gaze that told me to throw caution to the wind. That this moment lived in a world outside of the one we lived in. A world were consequences didn't exist.

He leaned into me, skin to skin, as his right hand still occupied my hip, fingers slipped half-way into the dress. His lips pressed against my ear, and he whispered, as if telling me a secret, or a lie, "More than you'll ever know."

I wanted that to be true. Whether it was, or if it was just a line to drive me deeper into my chosen vice, it didn't matter. For now, in this place, it was. It was just as real as the kisses he scattered across my neck. Each one was light as a feather and as stirring as a wave crashing over me. They trailed along the nape of my neck and curved around my throat. Little nips and the threat of teeth made me gasp with a rush of pleasure. I could feel him smirk at every little reaction. Against my stomach, his thickness pulsed with excitement.

As his lips drew closer to my breasts, his fingers shifted further into my dress. The soft wet silk slowly descending down my thigh. He nipped my collarbone, enjoying my quiet sigh of delight, before kissing the red mark he left, and then bushing his lips over the top of my soft mounds. I let my fingers slip into his wet locks, stabling myself as his mouth enveloped my nipple. His teeth quickly pitched the sensitive nub. A shudder flowed from the soft sting, resolving into pleasure once it settled between my thighs. He apologized with a flick of his tongue. He lingered there. Deliberately swirling his tongue around. He knew how sensitive I was there. He loved it. I could only sigh breathlessly. A quiet act of encouragement as my back pressed up against the closed shower door. I was now pinned between the warm glass and Loki's cold wet body.

My dress now hung off one hip, desperately clinging to the middle of my thigh, threatening to expose my bare sex to this wickedly lustful creature. He released my breast with a shallow bit before trailing tranquil kisses downward, only interrupted by the sudden nibble or two. He bend down to his knees. His lips traversed the curves of my sternum and ribcage. My heart pounding a feverish rhythm against his touch. Once he kissed my stomach, he stopped, and looked at me with longing eyes. The silk was bunched in his fist, barely concealing the rest of my body. I gave him a knowing nod. The dress dropped around my feet. A pile of fancy wet fabric that I kicked to the side. So much for my pretty dress.

He threw my left leg over his shoulder, resting my weight against the sturdy glass door. His lips caressed my inner thigh with tender kisses. I twitched pleasantly. Each touch made my blood rush like a hot wave. His mouth greeted my inner lips with an affectionate kiss, his tongue gently lapping the sweet throbbing spot that made my thighs tremble with gratitude. I laced my fingers with his hair. Feeling the way his head moved along as my hips rolled with the motion of his mouth made it more erotic. As if he was attuned with my pleasure. His throat rattled with a groan. The vibrations mixed with his skillful kiss nearly sent me over the edge. But he was attuned. He jerked away and licked his lip, savoring the taste of me. The rise of pleasure in my stomach waned slowly as I caught my breath. My thighs still twitched, anticipation lingering in amorous jolts.

"Not yet, bunny," he insisted before nipping at my inner thigh. I gasped with a high-pitch squeak. A smirk spread across his lips. All the nerves in my legs quivered as he smiled.

Still resting between my thighs, Loki looked up at me with yearning eyes. A reserved hunger for more. He rose to meet me, lacing his fingers with mine, still tangled in his hair. He brought me close. My head resting on his cold wet chest. I could feel his heartbeat. It was rapid and excited. Though his skin felt like smooth granite, his blood was hot, and rushing through his body with desire.

Water fell from a five-by-five-foot chrome square in the ceiling. It was like hot rain pouring over my aching muscles. The whole shower itself was big enough to dance in. I stood under the water as Loki walked to a self in the corner. It was full of bottles of various sizes and shapes. Some were plain, like a shampoo bottle you'd find in a drugstore, filled with a white substance. Others were colorful glass containers with lovely ridges, curves, and decorations filled with scented salts, thick liquids, and iridescent lotions. Loki grabbed a pale violet bottle from a shelf in the corner and lathered his hands with its lustrous contents. Steam carried the gentle fragrance of lavender and warm vanilla through the air.

"That smells nice," I remarked as I rolled my neck, letting the water glide over my sore bones, and seep into my hair.

"May I?" he asked, offering his hands.

I let him guide me out of the water, placing my hand in his. It tingled as the soap touched my skin. He lathered into my arms with precise pressure, like a masseuse coaxing the stress from my tense muscles. As he ran his rans up to my shoulders, he turned me slowly, and coiled an arm around my waists, pulling me into his body. We melded together. His hands caressing supple mounds of flesh, lathering along every inch, savoring the intricate curves of my body. It was the opposite of fiery passion. The lust was still there. His fingers teased my stiff nipples and cupped my breast with amorous desire. Gently kneading the soft tissue. I wasn't tense with yearning. My breath was relaxed with long sighs and moans. I sank into his softened body. His muscles were stone-like bulges flexing under his taut skin. He was laxed, flowing along as my body moved in tandem with his. A simple dance.

He was still erect, pressing his phallus into the small of my back. There was a static surge through my body. My hips rolled into his, lightly sliding my ass along his length. He quickly placed a placid hand on my hip and with only a fraction of his strength, stopped me from teasing him.

"Careful now, bunny," he moaned with a commanding breath. His slick hand moved from my hip to between my thighs. One hand still massaging my breast, kneading sensual waves of pleasure through my body, as his fingers danced around the apex of my sex in teasing circular motions. "I want to enjoy this," he kissed the nape of my neck.

I squirmed as small shocks danced over my nerves, creating ripples of pleasure in the pooling lust inside me. Between his kiss, his touch, and the hard reminder of his waxing lust, I was melting. My soft moans echoed in the air. He was panting into the curve of my neck, holding back his own admission of desire. Pretending to control himself as my hips still rolled into him like gentle waves, compelling him to give in. But he couldn't complain. He was the puppeteer, pulling my strings. The versed mistral that strummed the taut chords in my stomach that sent my body in motion. Enticing him with sighs of pleasure. His finger slipped into the wet folds of my slit. I opened for him, blossoming like an eager flower on a rich spring morning. His chilling touch soothing my hot sex. I gasped, inhaling the sultry fragrant vapors. His hand continued to stroke my breast as his fingers worked their way into me. Water poured over my sensitive skin as his kiss deepened, teeth nestling into my neck, muffling his moans.

"Enjoying yourself?" I purred breathlessly as his fingers massaged the muscles of my sex, palm gently lapping at the crest.

He nipped my neck, tugging at the skin between his teeth. I loved the sharp sting. "Very much so," he muttered into my ear. His fingers deepened sending a rush of warmth through my thighs. His hand moved up to my neck, gently gripping my throat. His thumb placed over my jugular, sensing my quickening pulse. "I love feeling you squirm. Your body begging for my cock as I pull you close to your rapture," he hissed coquettishly, his hot breath stowing the embers that flickered inside me.

His fingers were the tide, coyly ascending my shores. Pushing and pulling, in and out. Wave after wave, building on top of one another, until it was an unbearable swell closing in away from the horizon. I could feel my thighs twitch with delight. My nerves shudder as my breath quickened. He buried his moans into my ear, filling every sense with pleasure.

But he was attuned to me. Loki felt the slick walls of my sex constrict and release in rousing motions. My chest pulling in quick gulps of air as my moans became beckon cries for release. I was there at the precipice, and he yanked me away. His fingers slipping out and curling his arm around me.

"You're so mean," I whined.

"Mean?" he perked, his voice harsh, yet refined. "I was going to reward you for being so good," he deliberately pressed his hardness against me, shaft slipping mischievously between my thighs. His hips fell against mine, massaging my wet longing sex with his. "But if I'm mean, then I can just stop." He did. Pressing his manhood into me like a sensual threat.

"Fuck," I moaned out loud with a shallow breath.

"Am I mean?" he asked, his voice driving the final nail in my coffin.

"No," I whimpered.

Loki sighed fervently, "Good girl."

There was a black marble bench carved into the wall of the shower. Loki turned off the water with a touch of the ceiling. An invisible force I'd never understand, especially not in this dream realm. He lead me to the bench, sitting comfortably against the cold black and gold stone. He was stiff, cock pulsing with anticipation. The tip reached above his belly button in an impressive display. With two fingers, he gestured for me to approach. I straddled his hips, slowly easing my way onto him. He watched me with fierce eyes, silently approving. Gently, he grabbed my hips and lowered me down, his stiff red tip pushing into me with light pressure. I arched my back and moaned. His length and thickness filling the warm wet space inside me.

We rocked like two opposing waves crashing into each other. His firm grasp on my ass, helping me roll my hips into his as I bounced. He throbbed inside me, urging deeper, more passionate thrusts. I could feel him pressing into my stomach. It hurt, but a good hurt. The erotic pressure of his cock pushing against the furthest depths of my slick cave. Muscles tightening and easing around him.

I had my hands resting on his chest. His heart pumped with excitement, drumming against my palms. Blood swelled inside him like sunlight breaking through a winter day. A flash of heat surged through him as his nails dug into my soft flesh. He controlled me. Shifting my hips in rampant rhythm. He pulled me up the long length of his cock, his tip just buried in my entrance. He held me there, catching his breath. His eyes were alight with lust.

"Please, don't stop," I begged breathlessly.

A devious smirk tugged across his face. He liked it when I begged. In an agonizingly slow motion, he lowered back down. My slick satin mouth welcoming him. Every pulsing inch. As if he wanted me to admire it. Savor him as my breath hinged on a weak moan. More like a whimper. It was like holding your hand over boiling water. A languid burn. Until you hit that pleasant fever.

He sheathed himself in me. Tip bumping my cervix. I gasped again before slinking into a trembling moan. My nails dug into his icy skin. Once more he pulled out, an electric sensation vibrating through my core, and then sheathed himself with a heavy thrust. I rolled my hips and buried my nails into him to keep myself steady. My dance was rhythmic and more methodical. Bouncing on him with wanton vigor before slowing down, pushing himself inside with a shallow moan. He watched my body curl into him and arch way. Moans shuddering off his lips.

He wasn't able to stop me this time. Enthralled in his own pleasure as he slid in and out with wet velvet glides. I pushed myself in wild waves against his shore, riding the growing tide inside me. Our euphoric harmony reverberating against the wet marble walls. His body was tense beneath me. His muscles flexing as he thrusted harder and faster. I couldn't pull away. I didn't want to. The ravenous tide crashed into me. It's hot currants dragging me into a sea of bliss. He knew. Yet he allowed it. The rigorous walls of my sex squeezing him, massaging him, and sucking him into his own climax. I felt his nails deepen as he panted heavily.

"Fuck," he groaned, "Gods, you feel so...fuck."

He rolled his head back, eyes fluttering as he succumbed to his vice. Hot liquid seed pouring inside my quivering womanhood as his cock jerked around. I could've come again. He pulled and pushed me, an ebb and flow of peak pleasure erupting between us.

I collapsed onto his heavy panting chest, wet with sweat, and throbbing with his excited heart. My body was hot, blood still boiling, writhing through my veins. I loved his cold skin. So soothing.

His cock twitched a few more time before falling limp. Liquid pleasure trickling down my inner thigh. I was smiling. Face flushed and glowing with joy. His hand rested on the back of my head, stroking the wet locks. His fingers twirling the ends of my hair playfully.

"You know," he began in a raspy breath, "you didn't ask if you could come."

I giggled and kissed his broad bare chest. "What? Are you going to punish me now?" I asked, nipping at him.

Loki pulled my head back with a fistful of hair. It didn't hurt. He raised my head so I would look at him. So, I would see the piercing blue flames dance in his eyes as a vicious smile dared to break his stone-like expression. Almost as if he was excited. His member twitched inside of me. A rush of heat pulsating between my thighs.

"Clean yourself up. Then you'll come to the bed," he instructed, his tone low and confidence.

"Yes," I agreed with a bashful nod.

His gripped tightened, yanking my head back further. It hurt, but I wanted it. "Yes, what?" he growled.

"Yes, sir,"

"Good girl,"