"Mine," he'd plead and growled, and our lips had finally met. But it was the touch of his tongue against mine that truly undid me. My hands slid through his curls, clutching his head tighter to me, holding him in place, wanting the kiss that he finally took to last.

He was panting as he pulled back, not away - he couldn't, not with my fingers tangled in his hair - his eyes opening and locking on mine. "I thought you wanted a bath," but I shook my head and tugged him back to me. "Greedy, aren't you?" It was a whisper against my lips, but I didn't care. Not when his arms lifted me, moving from us from the bath to the bed - laying me back against the soft plushness. "There, isn't that -" but I didn't wait for him to continue, I wanted his mouth on mine - his silver tongue put to much better use.

And I loved his growls, and he seemed to like the noises he coaxed from me, noises I had no description for - having never made them before. His weight, most of which he kept off of me, but that which he allowed to lay upon me was what I imagined Valhalla to be like - glorious and heady. I wanted more. So much more, but there was too much damn fabric between us - my fingernails dug into his shoulders, leaving his hair now that I knew he wasn't letting go. I wanted, no I needed to feel his skin - like I needed air to breathe and water to drink. Arching up, he growled into my mouth and rocked into me.

Ripping my mouth away from his to gasp, I looked up at him and caught how dark his eyes had gone. How hard he was breathing and how badly he wanted - what I wanted was evident. My hands were pulling on the collar of his coat and he smiled.

"Not an entire day here, and already forgotten your magic," he gasped, but didn't stop me. "When in Rome, I suppose." His words made little sense, but his hands left the bed where he'd been framing my face and held most of his weight off of me. "Are you sure?" His fingers were teasing the lace under my chin.

"I've never been more certain of anything," his mouth met mine even as his fingers worked to rid me of my layers and mine fought to do the same for his.

If I said we didn't give in and remember exactly how to use our magic, I'd be a liar - Loki and I both got incredibly frustrated by the amount of buttons and barriers between us and eventually nature wills out - we didn't rid one another of ALL our layers. He understood that this was all very new to me and I was hesitant to rush completely to the end full speed.

When he took one long fingered hand and pulled my hair picks free, causing my hair to tumble free, I watched his eyes almost glow. Lying before him, wearing only my shift with my hair loose around me, while he knelt beside me in the briefest linen imaginable - I had a return of my dry mouth. His gaze - it felt like I could feel it as he took the route from the crown of my head to my ankles - the same chill I'd felt when he showed up outside my window.

"You are a wonder," I felt the same about him - while pale, who would have known how toned his lean body was under all his layers? I knew he was strong, in both will and words, but bodily? I think most in Asgard would have dismissed the thought, but seeing him bare chested, I couldn't stop myself from reaching out to touch him.

He sat still and patient as I sat up facing him, like he was once again my teacher. Allowing me to trace his lines with my left hand, the gold band that he'd set there upon our arrival gleaming in the artificial light of our room as I touched his bare skin - cool to the touch, but not too cool - a perfect contrast to how hot I felt. "If I'm a wonder," I managed, my fingers sliding higher, up his neck to his face. "Then you, my prince, are magnificent." I traced the sharp lines of his face, lines I felt I could draw in my dreams. They were so familiar to me now.

"I want to taste you," I was tracing his lips and I smiled. "Every inch of you." The clench in my stomach was becoming quite normal to me too.

"You speak as if I'm a feast, Loki." I glanced up to see his eyes were clear blue, but he did look ravenous. "Are you so hungry that I'll make you a meal?"

"Let's see," his mouth was on mine, and my head met the pillows again, but I soon learned that he had meant what he said - he meant to taste me - ALL of me.

Loki, I quickly learned, was far more talented with his silver tongue than I could ever have known. And he knew how to find places on my body that I would have never believed were places that anyone would find attractive OR that I'd find breathtaking when someone touched - rather kissed, licked, or sucked. My neck, my pulsepoint, my shoulder - who knew? Loki, obviously, my fingers sliding into his curls again, helplessly as he proved that I truly was at his mercy.

Lower, the topmost curve of my breast, then shifting my thin undergarment before just completely rendering it gone and latching onto my most sensitive bud - a place that I KNEW babes found sustenance, BUT a man? Arching up into him, though I hardly knew how he could make me feel MORE - and he was careful that he showed neither side of my body more attention than the other - how was I panting? He was doing all the work.

His kisses moving lower, teeth grazing my navel, and I was gasping. I felt certain he had to be sated, where else could he - and then his mouth met me at my most intimate folds and I couldn't breathe at all - his arms were locking me hips in place as he FEASTED on me and all I could think of was that I couldn't breathe, but I must be breathing since someone was saying his name over and over - and I was the only person whose mouth was free.

I was panting so heavily that I was certain that the entire hotel could hear me and possibly all of this misty Midgardian city called London. Loki was resting with his head on my stomach and my fingers were tangled in his hair - damp curls telling me that he had exerted himself quite a bit during his 'feast'. I felt his chuckle rather than heard it, my breathing was so loud.

"What could you find funny right now?" I managed to get out, somehow. Parched lips and tongue making the exercise all the more difficult.

He shifted and I looked down to see that he had propped his chin just below my navel. "I have wanted to do that - to YOU - for a very long time," I licked my lips and stared at him. "You're delicious."

I rolled my eyes, but my fingers stayed in his hair, sliding through his soft strands. "Am I?" He nodded and lowered his face to kiss my skin where his chin had been. "Are you planning on sharing?" Looking up from where his lips were still on my skin I had a flash of what prey must feel as a predator locked eyes on them - and then he was crawling up the bed and I wondered if any prey had WANTED to be eaten by their predator right before his mouth, with a lingering flavor of me met mine.