Chapter 5
Imogen had been so ready to string along the God of Thunder... but he didn't give her the chance. The pout was almost a permanent feature of her face as she worked nowadays, more than annoyed that she hadn't been given the chance to try out her ideas to entice the prince.
He'd stopped calling for her.
It had been over a week, and she hadn't received a single word from him. She'd barely even seen him.
The first night she'd gone to him she'd noticed a generous boom in her expenses. And true to his word - despite their little tiff in the corridor - she'd been given all the perks of her fraud job. Her room was to herself. Her wardrobe was full of clothes for her to wear. She put one on once, just to test it, and one of the guards had bowed to her! She was every bit the woman of status a true mistress of the prince would be, every bit the part.
Except when she put her maids uniform back on, she was a nobody again. And with the prince refusing her company, that was all she was becoming again.
She sat in her room night after night, waiting - hoping! - that he would call her to his chambers. But he never did. Why?, she wondered. She thought he wanted her. Had he somehow changed his mind? No, she didn't think he had. Maybe he was still annoyed with her. He'd seemed so against her working...and she guessed she could understand why.
Maid's work wasn't the most glamorous job but it was honest at least. And she needed a bit of honest, the deception of their arrangement biting into her conscience. She dared think that if she were indeed his mistress she wouldn't feel this rotten, feeling that she'd at least done something to earn her finances. As it was, she wasn't. And she had no intention of being so.
She couldn't focus anymore. It was constantly on her mind as to why he didn't want her anymore.
Or maybe it was the opposite, she thought. Maybe he wanted her too much and he was trying to resist temptation by removing her from his presence. That was all very noble ...but she needed him to embrace temptation. She needed him to want her and call her to his chambers for the night and lust after her while she subtly indulged his imagination. She couldn't seduce him from across the castle.
And now he was even further away.
He and the Warriors Three had departed for a battle a few days ago, leaving Imogen godless. They'd be coming back soon but... she missed him.
She wanted to think him vile and disgusting for the way he'd revealed to her his passions for her body in the corridor that day. But she couldn't. Perhaps she would have been able to if she hadn't enjoyed it too. It had felt so good, him pressing into that sensitive, most intimate part of her. Oh, she'd been putty in his arms. He wanted her, and she would have hated him for it; if she didn't want him too.
The pressure of his body had been delicious. And the heat - she had melted. He could have asked anything of her in that moment and she'd have done it if it meant he'd keep holding her like that.
Finally, Imogen had become one of the girls that lusted after the prince. Now, whenever she thought of him - which was often! - she could understand his appeal. Those piercing eyes, those strong, deadly muscles... just him! Everything about him was alluring and seductive and hansom and - oh gods - she wanted to see him again. Just to see him, if nothing else.
But the bastard didn't want to see her.
Imogen had stopped doing her maids job for now. Her fingers were getting rough and her muscles tired. And she needed everything for her new job.
The prince would be back in a matter of days. That little scene had given her a taste of splendour that she was addicted to. She wanted more. And she'd be damned if she was going to let him keep it from her!
A party was being held for the warriors return. Nothing big. Quite the opposite, really. A hall of food, the warriors and women. Lots of women. Dancing, entertaining, divesting themselves of their clothes for the brave men's enjoyment. Imogen knew how she'd be spending her evening.
And she'd be sure the prince wouldn't forget it.
His break was over. And yes, battle was a break - a break from her. He couldn't bear it after all. Just thinking about her defiance made his blood boil! He wanted her to submit, in more ways than just one...
Thor didn't like to share, even if he was sharing her with a job rather than a man. He didn't like it. He wanted her to be his and his alone.
He sat amongst his friends in the Hall, arms folded moodily across his chest. Just being back in the palace set him on edge, knowing that she was somewhere in it too. He hoped she was satisfied, that she had driven him so mad he'd had to leave to gather his wits. His anger had simmered, but he was still distraught.
Maybe if he could find a woman here, he thought. If one caught his eye, perhaps he'd satisfy himself with her. Temporarily, at least. He'd have to do it here; to be caught taking another woman back to his chambers when he already had a concubine of his own would tarnish Imogen's reputation as a woman. He'd have to be discrete. He needed some relief though. Anything.
The music started and his mood slipped even deeper.
His friends didn't notice. Volstagg was happily content with the feast at their disposal at his side and Thor glared at him enviously. If only he could be so easily distracted, so easily satisfied.
Or like Hogun, who just didn't care to begin with. He sat in the corner of the room with some sort of mind puzzle to amuse him. He wasn't tempted by food and women as the rest of them were.
Thor's eyes watched for Fandral. The warrior would be alert to the women whenever they entered, and then Thor could set about trying to drown his sorrows.
He took a deep gulp of mead and tried to keep his swirling stomach still. Just thinking about her, so sickeningly alluring made him feel ill.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Fandral straighten up in his chair, and lifted his gaze glaringly to the filling doorway. Tides of women slunk in, all lovely, beautiful and wearing seductive, enticing clothes that by all right should have fired him up the same way it was shredding Fandral of his dignity.
He felt nothing. Empty. Damn, he cursed bitterly in his head. Not even other women could distract him anymore. That woman had indeed ensnared him in her charms...
Then Thor blinked as the last woman closed the door behind her. His brow furrowed, eyes scouring over her back as she lingered by the door with slow deliberation. That alone set him on edge if the familiar waves of raven hair hadn't.
It couldn't be, he thought, unsure if it was with dread or anticipation. If the clothes were anything to go by, it would have been the latter. He waited tensely for the girl to turn, to confirm or deny if his fears were real or not. It couldn't be, he told himself again. She didn't tease deliberately, because just existing did well enough. She didn't entertain, because she did maids work. It couldn't be her... but why was his heart thudding in the way only she could make it pound?
His gaze scoured lower than her glisten mane of dark hair and his body flared for it. Her narrow, tiny waist narrowed the space in his trousers, his eyes eagerly lapping over her figure as it spilled out into pleasingly shaped hips.
Surely he knew that figure, even if it had been concealed by the flowing fabrics of the maid's gown.
The women fanned out around the room, but Thor was entranced by the one by the door, ignoring the feminine hands that tried to delicately demand his attention on his arms and shoulders. He didn't want them. He wanted her.
She turned slowly, circling every enticing curve of her lush body: the delicious dip of her waist, the neat swell of her chest, her flat stomach, those hips that made his thighs tense with anticipation... then her piercing, hungry dark violet eyes bore into his and he knew once and for all.
He felt the groan of appreciation grow in his throat but bottled it, refusing to let her have any leverage over him at all. Even stood across the room from him she affected him!
Her eyes never left his as she left the doorway, padding forward along the walls with tantalisingly slow steps. Imogen never looked away. Her fingers trailed gently along the stretch of the wall as she slunk closer, her orbs holding a lustful look Thor had only glimpsed that once in the corridor.
He wanted to be mad again... but his body raged with other emotions, equally as passionate. His attention couldn't focus on her face to be angry anyway. Her body captivated him most.
She wore a low cut stretch of material over her bust, revealing a generous amount of pleasantly curved cleavage on the top and cutting off high on her rib cage, bearing her toned midriff below. It made Thor's mouth water, eyes scouring over the creamy expanse of her stomach. Slung low on her hips was a thick waistband, resting on the widest part of her hips. The material shielded her modesty better than the see through flowing expanse of her skirt did for her legs. The skimpy, few clothes she wore were cream in shade, though the skirt and the thin scarf she had draped delicately around her back and arms were completely transparent to him.
Thor drank in her body like a man possessed. Everything about her was slim, but not skinny. Just enough flesh to give her the curves that made him want her so much. Her legs were mesmerising to him: shapely thighs and calves that ended in dainty bare feet. Her skin looked so smooth and soft, Thor just longed to touch it.
It was like his fantasies were coming to life as she altered her path away from the wall, hand swaying back to her side lightly. And then she was walking to him.
Every inch of Thor's body ached for her as she slipped closer, hips circling deliberately to the sides with every pace. Her waist looked slim enough for Thor to be able to encircle it with his hands, something he made a reminder to test later.
His mind stopped working. It was just filled with hourglass figures, Imogen's creamy, unblemished skin. Her chest wasn't as full as most Asgardian women's were but Thor loved her for being different. He didn't doubt that her breasts would be the perfect shape for his palm.
She lifted to walk on her toes for the last couple of steps, and Thor let his jaw drop. The effect was incredible! The arch of her hips looked instantly curvier, her chest pushed out slightly and her legs so lean and long... Thor just melted into his chair.
That vixen, he thought. He'd been wrong about her, as his gaze once again lifted to her spirited, lustful one; she was a tease after all. And she damned well knew it.
The god suddenly felt much too clothed for his liking.
And then she was in front of him. Right in front of him. She fit herself snugly between the space of his parted knees, the feeling of her body pressed against the inside of his thighs almost making the god lose himself.
He didn't feel far off it anyway.
Imogen leaned forward, her glorious raven hair falling over her shoulder. Her petite hands found his hips to support herself, so light it was like her touch wasn't even there. Thor held his breath as she leaned in, her luscious lips moving oh so close to his.
His hands flew up instinctively, palms finding the flaring curves of her body where her waist moulded into her hips. His fingers gripped firm, wanting to feel her and the new skin she'd so readily exposed to him. The thin material of her shawl frustrated him.
He wasn't sure what to feel. A part of him was mad she teased him so... but he couldn't ignore the fiery lust and desire that pooled readily in his belly. The combination had his orbs dangerously dark as she moved in. His eyes drew downwards, to her advancing chest. His breaths sped up.
"What are you doing?" he breathed, his voice rasping. His hands on her body tried to ease her bust closer, but she stubbornly held off.
His gaze flickered to her face again, and he growled quietly at the smirk on her lips. "Working." she purred.
Her hand trailed up from his hip, up along his body, roaming over his chest, his collarbone, up his neck, until she laced her fingers through his golden locks. Thor's hand flew to hers, fusing it in place. He wanted her hands on him, however he could get. He eased her hand down to his cheek and pressed a lingering, tongue swirling kiss to the inside of her palm.
He could think of countless other places on her he wanted to do the same.
The world around them didn't seem to matter to the god anymore. Oh, how he just wanted to pull her in his lap and take her. But that would ruin it. She wanted to tease him, not surrender to him. Breaking her spell would end it for good. He would take what she gave him, lapping it up gladly.
He could feel her hips swaying to the music, applying tantalising pressure to the inside of his thighs. His hands tightened on her waist.
Thor eased his back from the chair, leaning forward into her body, since she wouldn't bring herself to him. His breath trailed from her neck to lower. "I thought you didn't want to ..." his voice almost cracked as he breathed in her scent from the mounds of her chest, and the words failed him. Gods, she was heavenly!
She heaved in a deep breath, swelling her cleavage until Thor could have nipped out his tongue and tasted it from its proximity. Her fingers wound round to the back of his neck, tracing delicious patterns into his skin with her fingernails.
"I thought you might not mind this sort of work outside of your chambers."
Thor simply growled appreciatively in reply. The strip of material over her breasts would be so easy to remove...
Her hand pushed lightly on his hips, her fingers twirling the hair at the nape of his neck as she drew away. Thor's hands melted from her body reluctantly. A triumphant smirk graced her perfect features as she stepped away from him, clearing enjoying being in control. A fleeting thought crossed the god's mind as to why he would be bowing to her will, letting her dominate him when in truth it should be the other way around.
The hot pressure in his trousers reminded him why: it was so hot.
He couldn't take her eyes off her. Thor's eyes were mesmerised over her face, her body, her hands, tracing every motion of her keen fingers as they ran slyly up the curves of her body in the way Thor would give his hammer to do. They trailed up over the bottom of her top, over the swell of her breasts until they crossed at her collar bones, slipping down her shoulders, so her upper arms pressed her bosom together.
Thor swore his mouth watered. His hips twitched from the chair. Gods, he wanted to touch her. To hold her body against his, to feel her lush body beneath his strong hands, to delve his tongue amongst the generous expanse of her cleavage... his mind ran wild with desire.
She ran the transparent cloth of her shawl down her forearms, so nothing stood between him and her exposed middle. His for the taking...
Her fingers stretched it out and she stepped back between his knees, draping the material tenderly around his neck. Thor's fallen hand moved back to her hip. His thumb traced the hem of her belt. It could slip right off, he thought hungrily.
Beside him, he glimpsed Fandral with the girl on his lap, and three more around him. He wished that were him and Imogen.
Imogen's palm found his cheek and guided him back to her, her other hand trailing down from his neck to his chest. She leaned in again and her breath ghosted over his lips. "If you want me to stop, I will."
Thor's hands gripped tighter on her hips. "I don't." he growled.
Her hands braced on his chest as one of her knees crept forward between his thighs, brushing across his most prominent arousal. The prince's lips parted in bliss, grinding his hips up against her.
"You stopped seeing me."
Thor's breaths sped up at the pressure in his groin. His hands roamed up to the warm, bare flesh of her body. He wanted to swirl his tongue over her stomach, right down to the dip of her belly button. This time, she didn't fight him as he eased her forward.
"You wouldn't listen to me." he breathed, flattening his palms along her back. His fingers crept up the back of the top.
Imogen's knee dug firmer, drawing a groan from the god. "I'm listening now."
Thor wasn't sure how much more he could take. He moved her close, hands still on the backs of her shoulder blades so he could take her into his arms completely. His forearms flattened along her back. He leaned forward from his chair again, lips hovering over the belt on her hips, staring down at the feminine shape of her legs. He wanted to just hitch her skirt up and run his hands up her thighs.
He squeezed his elbows, resting on her lower back so her hips teased forward. Just a touch lower, he thought, still eying her belt. Just an inch lower and he would find her most sacred spot as a woman.
He breathed out a shuddering breath. This woman was destroying him, and she hadn't even broken a sweat.
"Will you see me tonight?"
Her fingers dug into the neck of his armour to hold her upright as she swung one leg over his knee to rest on the space on the chair his hip didn't fill. She did the same to the other side, so she was straddling him, her arms draping round his neck to toy with her scarf there.
She ground her centre down on his burgeoning manhood to gauze the response she wanted.
Thor groaned hard, crushing her body to his and burying his face in the side of her neck. "Yes." He sighed breathlessly. Almost desperately.
His hips reached upwards for her and his hand reached up her back to fist in her hair. He growled into her neck, when she lifted her hips off his lap, refusing him the contact. Vaguely, he noted how unfazed she seemed by what they were doing. In the corridor, this sort of contact had reduced her too mush in his arms, but now... perhaps the control over him gave her control over herself, he reasoned. Very well - he'd indulge her.
For now.
"Really?" Imogen's hips lowered again and gave him the contact he so desperately desired.
Thor couldn't help it: the hand that wasn't tangled in her hair wound down to her round backside and his hips bucked up into hers, grinding them together even more heatedly than before. The gasp was like music to his ears. Imogen's body tensed for a moment at the unexpected movement but the second his arousal moulded hard with hers, separated only by the material of his trousers, she went limp and practically melted into him.
Her arm around his neck stretched out her body as she relaxed, breaths uneven over his shoulder. Thor listened to it and grinned. Now they were getting even.
He let her catch her breath for a moment, his hand delicately exploring the soft cheeks of her backside. She didn't seem to complain, leaning back into his touch.
Then she caught herself.
Her eyes snapped open and her jaw shut, her whole body stiffening. Thor could read the lust in her violet orbs as they lowered to him.
He wanted to squeeze her flesh again to see how she'd react, to bring her back to pieces in his arms as she had done to him. But she beat him to it; her gaze darkened, that delicious expression of being in complete ecstasy wiping from her face to be once again replaced with smouldering eyes and softly pouting, plump lips.
Thor's need strained for her.
Imogen's leg touched ground again and she swung her other leg over his, easing herself off his lap tormenting. Her hands trailed from around his neck to his shoulders, teasing every well-defined muscle of his arms with her finger tip. She reached up and behind her and gently peeled him away.
Thor let her. He so did not want to offend her now! And if she was willing to come to him later, maybe they could pick up where they left off...
She stood back from him and Thor missed her, his arms feeling strangely empty without her in them. Her smirk was back a she stalked around his side, hand finding his arm again and stroking up to his shoulder with firm pressure.
Her fingers paused with her body and she crouched down, her face level with his. Their gazes moulded.
"I'll be back for my scarf later." she promised with a seductive grin.
Thor's darkened blue orbs were bright with wonder and were captivated by her lips as she spoke, so pink and begging for him to kiss them.
Imogen leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek, before straightening up and stalking to the door. Thor span around so fast in his chair he swore he heard something in his back click. His hand flew for hers as it left his shoulder.
"Imogen!" He didn't care who saw, who saw the God of Thunder so willingly a servant girl's plaything. When it was Imogen who would be waiting for him at the end of the night, who he'd wake up with at sunrise, it was so worth it. His hold on her hand stopped her departure and he could tell by the startled look in her eyes and the sharp turn, a stark contrast to her slow, selective moves, that she hadn't bargained on this happening. Thor clung to her fingers regardless, letting his gaze lock with hers as his voice dropped darkly to his chest. "Don't change."
His eyes scoured once more over her revealing outfit in question once more before darting back to her face, and the sly grin that was slowly spreading across it.
Her fingers squeezed his tightly. "As you wish, my Prince."
He watched her, entranced as her fingers slipped from his and she turned away again, walking towards the door with a pleasing sway of her hips. Thor licked his lips in anticipation. He couldn't wait to get back to his chambers now!