Helpmeet (2/3) An Avengers Crack fic NC-17
Story: Helpmeet
Author: Cincoflex
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Avengers, post-movie
Pairings: Loki/OC
Summary: The Avengers hope they've seen the last of Thor's brother, but destiny thumbs her nose at them. Slightly crack-fic.
A/N: Back again. I don't normally post twice in a day, but It's been a while since I posted ANYTHING so there you have it. I love my Betas,VR_Trakowski and Lovellama for their encouragement, support, proof-reading and general sweetness. They are wonderful!
She didn’t dream about him after that, but there were constant reports of increased seismic activity throughout the United States. Cynara said nothing to anyone. Thor hadn’t returned, and most of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s focus was on repairing the helicarrier and analyzing every aspect of the battle of Manhattan, which kept most of the personnel busy-at least those who weren’t actively monitoring Earth and space anyway.
Cynara meekly submitted her reports while striving for a low profile, and applied once more for leave, hoping against hope that it would be granted this time. If she could just get married before Loki freed himself, she might be able to change the mythology. After all, she argued with herself, Thor loved Jane instead of Sif, then that was already a shift of the known paradigm right there.
When the leave was approved, she wasted no time in calling Theoric, who fussed a bit, but ultimately agreed. “I’ve got a few things to finish, sweetheart, but I’ll meet you in Vegas. The Valhalla, right?”
“Right. I know I’m rushing it, but they’ve only given me a week, Theo, and who knows when the next chance will come?”
Cynara couldn’t tell him the real reason that centered on the mounting apprehension with each new quake report. Theo might be versed and immersed in the sagas, but she knew perfectly well that he’d think she was nuts if she tried to convince him the tremors were connected to Ragnarök.
So she packed, gave an apartment key to a neighbor and caught a flight to McCarren, keeping her fingers crossed. It was tough to avoid sleeping, but Cynara figured it was safer not to. After three transfers and one nearly missed flight she arrived in Las Vegas at just after midnight. The shuttle took her to the Valhalla which sat on the edge of the Strip, looking as absurd as all the other themed hotels that crowded up against each other like a police line-up of misconceived concepts.
The Valhalla had faux rock everywhere, and heavy timbers that were supposed to imply a vaguely Teutonic/Norse theme. The owners had even tried to get Thor to endorse the place; Cynara remembered his horrified expression when shown the concept art, his strongly-worded rejection using terms that made her blush. She couldn’t blame him, but it was hard to explain how Las Vegas worked, and how normally sane and easygoing people became crazed gamblers there.
Thor was amused. “Perhaps it is how your world wishes to honor your dead, but this is no hall of the valiant in my eyes.”
Seeing it in person for the first time, Cynara winced and had to agree; the Valhalla personified the word ‘tacky’. Fortunately it was only for the weekend, and she intended to stay inside for most of that-a thought that had her feeling another flush come to her face as she checked in and took a folded note from the clerk at the desk and made her way to the room.
Theo had made arrangements at Cupid’s Wedding Chapel apparently and he too, was distressed by Valhalla’s pseudo décor, writing that they should consider setting off the smoke alarm before they checked out. That made Cynara laugh aloud, and she dumped her travel bag in the room, trying to ignore the faux antler rack over the headboard of the king-sized bed.
She spotted Theo’s luggage and the fact that it was still unpacked made Cynara pause; her S.H.I.E.L.D. training kicked in as she quietly did a sweeping search of the room. Nobody was there, and the only items she found were Theo’s belongings, neatly stacked as if a bellboy had delivered them. The sense of paranoia abated but didn’t quite disappear when she pulled out her cell phone and called him.
“Theo? Where the hell are you?” she demanded when he answered.
“Cupid’s of course. They had an opening for two AM, and I figured we’d beat the crowd,” he told her through the faint static of the line. “That is, unless you want to wait.”
“No, I’m good with it,” she assured him. Cynara figured she’d let her mother and step-dad know later instead of calling them immediately with the good news. Her mother would be thrilled; Harry relieved. “I guess I’d better get over there, huh?”
“Only if you want to get married,” Theo snorted. “I brought a bottle of mead to toast the occasion.”
“Yum,” she told him, blew kisses and hung up. It didn’t take long for her change into something a little more festive-in this case a peach mini-dress--and head down to the lobby for a cab, feeling relieved that in a few hours she’d be Mrs. Simon, and any future dreams starring the God of Mischief wouldn’t matter.
The chapel was as tacky as its name implied, and Cynara found herself trying not to roll her eyes as she spotted Theo in the gold and red velvet lobby. He had his nose buried in a copy of Germanic Linguistics for Dummies but set it aside when he saw her, rising for a kiss.
He looked like a junior version of Santa Claus, Cynara thought with affection. Blue-eyed Thoric Simon sported a full beard and the blonde shagginess of a true Norseman, but had the soft and slightly tubby build of an academic through and through. She hugged him hard. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. I never planned on getting married again, but then I never thought I’d meet a hot babe who knew the Prose Edda forwards and backwards either,” he told her with a grin. “Shall we?”
“Let’s do it,” she linked her arm in his just as the building shook violently. People called out in alarm and a shower of dust fell from the ceiling, but after a few seconds everything settled down once more, leaving the visitors to Cupid’s Chapel laughing nervously to each other and making remarks about ‘a whole lotta shaking going on.’
“Don’t like those,” Theo muttered, pulling up from his protective crouch and wiping his glasses. “We’re not even in California.”
Cynara brushed plaster bits from her hair, her heart beating faster. She took Theo’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Never mind that; let’s just do this and get back to the Valhalla, okay?
Theo shot a dubious look at the ceiling but nodded. They made their way to a little room labeled ‘Love Nest One’ where a frizzy haired woman in a leftover choir robe of gold lame and red velvet waved them in, looking slightly bored. “Okay, I had a few cancellations so if you’re ready, we can get started here. Gotcher license?”
Theo handed over the Nevada marriage form and stood swaying a moment. Cynara dug in her purse for her driver’s ID and a tip for the woman. She reached out her other hand to steady Theo. “Not having second thoughts are you?” she asked, half-teasing, “or did you hit the mead early?”
“I am ready,” he murmured in a low, almost flat tone as he straightened up, and Cynara would have looked at him but the woman in the choir robe was clearing her throat loudly and waiting for them to face her.
It didn’t take long. Cynara tried not to be nervous, and gave all the right replies, feeling a growing sense of relief as the ceremony went on. The music coming in over the PA system was a Muzak version of ‘Goin’ To the Chapel’ and it was slightly warped, as if the tape had been on loop too long. By the time the vows were finished, Cynara couldn’t wait to get out of Love Nest One and away from the noise that was trying to give her a headache.
She felt Theo cup her face in his hands before he kissed her, his green eyes bright, his mouth hot on hers. Cynara shivered under the delicious probe of his tongue, feeling a surge of heat flutter through her stomach. When he reluctantly pulled back she gasped a little, thinking that this marriage thing might be the best impulsive decision she’d ever made.
“Very nice, congratulations,” the frizzy-haired woman murmured. “Now I need to witness your signatures and file the license. We have two scenic photo settings out in our Garden of Paradise and Bridal Boudoir if you’d like souvenir glossies of this momentous occasion.”
“Tonight’s consummation shall be souvenir enough,” Theo told the woman, and Cynara blushed as she scrawled her signature on the indicated line of the license. She handed the pen to Theo, who bent and added his signature in an elegant line of runic letters. The document was whisked up by the woman who carried it over to the scanner in the corner of Love Nest One.
While she did that, Theo pulled out the bottle of mead and opened it, pulling the cork out with his teeth. Cynara stared at him, wondering when he’d taken to wearing lifts in his sneakers, but he distracted her by pushing the bottle into her hands. “Drink, my bride,” he told her in a pleased voice, and never one to turn down free alcohol, Cynara did, enjoying the honeyed heat of the mead down her throat.
She gasped, feeling slightly dizzy from the kick, figuring it to be at least 150 proof by the burn.
“Honey, we only allow booze out in the lobby and the photo settings,” the frizzy haired woman called over. “Sorry about that. Here, your license and a lovely complimentary certificate from Cupid’s Chapel, suitable for framing, or if you stop by the lobby we’ve got a selection of frames available starting at three ninety-nine.”
“We’ll pass,” Cynara muttered, rolling her eyes. She slipped the woman a twenty and received a wink in return, which made her blush again. Theo pulled the bottle from his lips and examined it as if he was disappointed in the contents. Carefully she linked her arm in his. “So it’s done. Should we go . . . celebrate?”
“It will be,” Theo intoned, “a night to remember.”
This struck Cynara as so weird and so unlike Theo that she started to giggle. The mead might have had something to do with it as well, and she had to settle into the cab next to him before she could stop spluttering every time he looked her way.
“S-S-sorry sweetie,” she managed, tucking the bottle away in her purse. “I’m just excited.”
“As you should be,” came his reply. He added, “As am I.”
“Theo baby, are you all right?” Cynara asked, trying to look at him in the flickering casino lights that briefly flashed along the cab’s windows.
“I’m fine,” he assured her, and gently pulled her up against his chest. Slightly reassured, Cynara leaned against him, giving a small sigh.
“So we’re married. It’s a good thing I put your name on the apartment lease already,” she babbled. “Think you can move in before the end of the month?”
“Anything you want, my queen,” Theo murmured into her fluffy hair.
She tried to move them through the lobby quickly; Cynara didn’t want to look at the disappointing décor any more than she had to, but Theo slowed and glanced around in clear amusement. “This . . . this is supposed to be Valhalla?”
“I know, pretty bad,” Cynara agreed, wincing.
“It is so beautifully hideous,” Theo murmured in amusement. “A fortress of dung and chemicals raised by vermin to a level beneath the notice of the very gods they seek to emulate! A rank temple of vice adorned with artificial jewels and false valor! I adore it!”
“Yeah, it’s good for a laugh,” Cynara agreed. “Come on, I think we’ve got the Vàli suite.”
“Lead on,” Theo told her with a smile.
Once upstairs Cynara unlocked the door and reached for the light, but Theo stopped her, pulling her into his arms and swinging her around, one of his feet slamming the door behind them.
“And now . . . . time for deeds best done in moonlight,” he murmured seductively, and she shivered.
“Sweet-talker,” Cynara managed before Theo bent to kiss the side of her neck. She swayed against him when his warm lips grazed her skin, shocked at how her skin pebbled into goose bumps at his light caress. Already her nipples were painfully hard, and when one of Theo’s hands slipped up to cup a breast, she gasped.
“You please me,” Theo whispered, “allow me to return the favor.”
Cynara wondered about this new romantic streak in Theo; normally he was more direct; not a bad thing in a man, but before she could consider this further, he bent and kissed her, mouth settling on hers in a decidedly possessive way.
She squirmed, unable to stop herself from meeting his tongue with her own, and within seconds Theo had steered them towards the bed, moving in the darkness with unerring speed. Cynara barely had time to gasp before she and Theo tumbled onto the mattress with a heavy thump. Giggling again, she tugged on his ‘Berserker in training’ tee-shirt, pulling it off as he gave a growl of approval.
More kisses, hot and hungry, taking her breath away. Cynara threw herself into them, savoring the taste of Theo’s mouth. Normally his kisses were tobacco-tinged from his pipe, but he must have brushed, because now his mouth tasted faintly of mead and something else; something that reminded her of ozone. She wanted to concentrate on these little nagging thoughts, but every time she tried to think, Theo nipped or kissed or touched her in a way that dissolved her focus, and by the time she’d lost her dress and bra Cynara resolved to leave any brain activity to the morning.
“How much do you love me?” he demanded, his breath hot in her ear, making tickly shivers run over her ribs. Cynara wriggled again, sliding her arms along his smooth, lean torso, struggling to undo his jeans.
“Lots. Tons,” she huffed. “A little help here?”
“Shhhhhh,” he whispered, and slid a hand down her stomach, fingers gliding under her panties and through her curls. Cynara moaned and arched up against his touch, feeling a surge of lust rocketing between her hips, and the power of it dazed her.
She and Theo had a good thing; she knew that. They’d been together for months now, and things were fun and felt great, but tonight seemed to hit a new level of intensity; her whole body felt like a live wire, tingling and pulsing uncontrollably. Right now Theo’s fingers were sliding and stroking through the slickness between her legs and she felt light-headed as she groaned again. “Oh baby . . .” Cynara gasped.
“Since first I saw you, I knew I could pleasure you as no-one ever has, or will,” came the answering whisper. “You’re not like the others my bride, my beautiful Sigyn . . .”
Cynara felt her body begin to tense, but something about what Theo said made her look up, her hair tousled. “What?”
But he gently tugged the panties down and pressed kisses along the tops of her thighs, face moving between them and Cynara squealed when Theo’s dark head moved deeper, his hot tongue flicking in teasing strokes until it slid around that tiny point of unbearable pleasure.
She arched up, past caring, soaring through an orgasm so strong that she actually gulped a breath, fingers scrabbling on the sheets. Theo shoved his shoulders under her thighs to ride it out, and she felt the breath of his gloating laugh against her wet curls. When she finally relaxed, Cynara gave a great gusty sigh, her eyes closed. “OooooohGod. That was friggin’ aMAzing!”
“She’d be overjoyed to hear it,” came the muffled comment from the lips against her inner thigh. “Being an advocate of love as she is.”
“Theo,” Cynara murmured, “I know you’re up to your horn rims in the mythology every day, but let’s not drag it into bed with us, okay? Want me to return the pleasure, or do you want to have your evil way with me?”
“Oh I think the latter is well overdue,” came the purr, and Cynara giggled as she felt Theo slither up over her supine body, the sweet friction of his torso a body kiss that made her smile. She cradled him with her damp thighs, reaching down to cup his shaft, and purred at the heavy feel of it.
“Want,” she growled, and the sound changed to a groan as he slowly arched into her, his girth sliding thickly in a teasing stroke. Cynara opened her eyes as Theo’s hair brushed her face.
“Want,” he told her, and she saw something in his green eyes, something hungry and vulnerable and familiar. Her legs tightened around his lean hips even as Cynara tensed, looking up into Loki’s face.
“Yoooou . . .” she breathed, confused but aroused. “Shit.”
“We shall talk later,” he told her with a solemn little smile. “Love me now.”
And Cynara did.
Author: Cincoflex
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Avengers, post-movie
Pairings: Loki/OC
Summary: The Avengers hope they've seen the last of Thor's brother, but destiny thumbs her nose at them. Slightly crack-fic.
A/N: Back again. I don't normally post twice in a day, but It's been a while since I posted ANYTHING so there you have it. I love my Betas,VR_Trakowski and Lovellama for their encouragement, support, proof-reading and general sweetness. They are wonderful!
She didn’t dream about him after that, but there were constant reports of increased seismic activity throughout the United States. Cynara said nothing to anyone. Thor hadn’t returned, and most of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s focus was on repairing the helicarrier and analyzing every aspect of the battle of Manhattan, which kept most of the personnel busy-at least those who weren’t actively monitoring Earth and space anyway.
Cynara meekly submitted her reports while striving for a low profile, and applied once more for leave, hoping against hope that it would be granted this time. If she could just get married before Loki freed himself, she might be able to change the mythology. After all, she argued with herself, Thor loved Jane instead of Sif, then that was already a shift of the known paradigm right there.
When the leave was approved, she wasted no time in calling Theoric, who fussed a bit, but ultimately agreed. “I’ve got a few things to finish, sweetheart, but I’ll meet you in Vegas. The Valhalla, right?”
“Right. I know I’m rushing it, but they’ve only given me a week, Theo, and who knows when the next chance will come?”
Cynara couldn’t tell him the real reason that centered on the mounting apprehension with each new quake report. Theo might be versed and immersed in the sagas, but she knew perfectly well that he’d think she was nuts if she tried to convince him the tremors were connected to Ragnarök.
So she packed, gave an apartment key to a neighbor and caught a flight to McCarren, keeping her fingers crossed. It was tough to avoid sleeping, but Cynara figured it was safer not to. After three transfers and one nearly missed flight she arrived in Las Vegas at just after midnight. The shuttle took her to the Valhalla which sat on the edge of the Strip, looking as absurd as all the other themed hotels that crowded up against each other like a police line-up of misconceived concepts.
The Valhalla had faux rock everywhere, and heavy timbers that were supposed to imply a vaguely Teutonic/Norse theme. The owners had even tried to get Thor to endorse the place; Cynara remembered his horrified expression when shown the concept art, his strongly-worded rejection using terms that made her blush. She couldn’t blame him, but it was hard to explain how Las Vegas worked, and how normally sane and easygoing people became crazed gamblers there.
Thor was amused. “Perhaps it is how your world wishes to honor your dead, but this is no hall of the valiant in my eyes.”
Seeing it in person for the first time, Cynara winced and had to agree; the Valhalla personified the word ‘tacky’. Fortunately it was only for the weekend, and she intended to stay inside for most of that-a thought that had her feeling another flush come to her face as she checked in and took a folded note from the clerk at the desk and made her way to the room.
Theo had made arrangements at Cupid’s Wedding Chapel apparently and he too, was distressed by Valhalla’s pseudo décor, writing that they should consider setting off the smoke alarm before they checked out. That made Cynara laugh aloud, and she dumped her travel bag in the room, trying to ignore the faux antler rack over the headboard of the king-sized bed.
She spotted Theo’s luggage and the fact that it was still unpacked made Cynara pause; her S.H.I.E.L.D. training kicked in as she quietly did a sweeping search of the room. Nobody was there, and the only items she found were Theo’s belongings, neatly stacked as if a bellboy had delivered them. The sense of paranoia abated but didn’t quite disappear when she pulled out her cell phone and called him.
“Theo? Where the hell are you?” she demanded when he answered.
“Cupid’s of course. They had an opening for two AM, and I figured we’d beat the crowd,” he told her through the faint static of the line. “That is, unless you want to wait.”
“No, I’m good with it,” she assured him. Cynara figured she’d let her mother and step-dad know later instead of calling them immediately with the good news. Her mother would be thrilled; Harry relieved. “I guess I’d better get over there, huh?”
“Only if you want to get married,” Theo snorted. “I brought a bottle of mead to toast the occasion.”
“Yum,” she told him, blew kisses and hung up. It didn’t take long for her change into something a little more festive-in this case a peach mini-dress--and head down to the lobby for a cab, feeling relieved that in a few hours she’d be Mrs. Simon, and any future dreams starring the God of Mischief wouldn’t matter.
The chapel was as tacky as its name implied, and Cynara found herself trying not to roll her eyes as she spotted Theo in the gold and red velvet lobby. He had his nose buried in a copy of Germanic Linguistics for Dummies but set it aside when he saw her, rising for a kiss.
He looked like a junior version of Santa Claus, Cynara thought with affection. Blue-eyed Thoric Simon sported a full beard and the blonde shagginess of a true Norseman, but had the soft and slightly tubby build of an academic through and through. She hugged him hard. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. I never planned on getting married again, but then I never thought I’d meet a hot babe who knew the Prose Edda forwards and backwards either,” he told her with a grin. “Shall we?”
“Let’s do it,” she linked her arm in his just as the building shook violently. People called out in alarm and a shower of dust fell from the ceiling, but after a few seconds everything settled down once more, leaving the visitors to Cupid’s Chapel laughing nervously to each other and making remarks about ‘a whole lotta shaking going on.’
“Don’t like those,” Theo muttered, pulling up from his protective crouch and wiping his glasses. “We’re not even in California.”
Cynara brushed plaster bits from her hair, her heart beating faster. She took Theo’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Never mind that; let’s just do this and get back to the Valhalla, okay?
Theo shot a dubious look at the ceiling but nodded. They made their way to a little room labeled ‘Love Nest One’ where a frizzy haired woman in a leftover choir robe of gold lame and red velvet waved them in, looking slightly bored. “Okay, I had a few cancellations so if you’re ready, we can get started here. Gotcher license?”
Theo handed over the Nevada marriage form and stood swaying a moment. Cynara dug in her purse for her driver’s ID and a tip for the woman. She reached out her other hand to steady Theo. “Not having second thoughts are you?” she asked, half-teasing, “or did you hit the mead early?”
“I am ready,” he murmured in a low, almost flat tone as he straightened up, and Cynara would have looked at him but the woman in the choir robe was clearing her throat loudly and waiting for them to face her.
It didn’t take long. Cynara tried not to be nervous, and gave all the right replies, feeling a growing sense of relief as the ceremony went on. The music coming in over the PA system was a Muzak version of ‘Goin’ To the Chapel’ and it was slightly warped, as if the tape had been on loop too long. By the time the vows were finished, Cynara couldn’t wait to get out of Love Nest One and away from the noise that was trying to give her a headache.
She felt Theo cup her face in his hands before he kissed her, his green eyes bright, his mouth hot on hers. Cynara shivered under the delicious probe of his tongue, feeling a surge of heat flutter through her stomach. When he reluctantly pulled back she gasped a little, thinking that this marriage thing might be the best impulsive decision she’d ever made.
“Very nice, congratulations,” the frizzy-haired woman murmured. “Now I need to witness your signatures and file the license. We have two scenic photo settings out in our Garden of Paradise and Bridal Boudoir if you’d like souvenir glossies of this momentous occasion.”
“Tonight’s consummation shall be souvenir enough,” Theo told the woman, and Cynara blushed as she scrawled her signature on the indicated line of the license. She handed the pen to Theo, who bent and added his signature in an elegant line of runic letters. The document was whisked up by the woman who carried it over to the scanner in the corner of Love Nest One.
While she did that, Theo pulled out the bottle of mead and opened it, pulling the cork out with his teeth. Cynara stared at him, wondering when he’d taken to wearing lifts in his sneakers, but he distracted her by pushing the bottle into her hands. “Drink, my bride,” he told her in a pleased voice, and never one to turn down free alcohol, Cynara did, enjoying the honeyed heat of the mead down her throat.
She gasped, feeling slightly dizzy from the kick, figuring it to be at least 150 proof by the burn.
“Honey, we only allow booze out in the lobby and the photo settings,” the frizzy haired woman called over. “Sorry about that. Here, your license and a lovely complimentary certificate from Cupid’s Chapel, suitable for framing, or if you stop by the lobby we’ve got a selection of frames available starting at three ninety-nine.”
“We’ll pass,” Cynara muttered, rolling her eyes. She slipped the woman a twenty and received a wink in return, which made her blush again. Theo pulled the bottle from his lips and examined it as if he was disappointed in the contents. Carefully she linked her arm in his. “So it’s done. Should we go . . . celebrate?”
“It will be,” Theo intoned, “a night to remember.”
This struck Cynara as so weird and so unlike Theo that she started to giggle. The mead might have had something to do with it as well, and she had to settle into the cab next to him before she could stop spluttering every time he looked her way.
“S-S-sorry sweetie,” she managed, tucking the bottle away in her purse. “I’m just excited.”
“As you should be,” came his reply. He added, “As am I.”
“Theo baby, are you all right?” Cynara asked, trying to look at him in the flickering casino lights that briefly flashed along the cab’s windows.
“I’m fine,” he assured her, and gently pulled her up against his chest. Slightly reassured, Cynara leaned against him, giving a small sigh.
“So we’re married. It’s a good thing I put your name on the apartment lease already,” she babbled. “Think you can move in before the end of the month?”
“Anything you want, my queen,” Theo murmured into her fluffy hair.
She tried to move them through the lobby quickly; Cynara didn’t want to look at the disappointing décor any more than she had to, but Theo slowed and glanced around in clear amusement. “This . . . this is supposed to be Valhalla?”
“I know, pretty bad,” Cynara agreed, wincing.
“It is so beautifully hideous,” Theo murmured in amusement. “A fortress of dung and chemicals raised by vermin to a level beneath the notice of the very gods they seek to emulate! A rank temple of vice adorned with artificial jewels and false valor! I adore it!”
“Yeah, it’s good for a laugh,” Cynara agreed. “Come on, I think we’ve got the Vàli suite.”
“Lead on,” Theo told her with a smile.
Once upstairs Cynara unlocked the door and reached for the light, but Theo stopped her, pulling her into his arms and swinging her around, one of his feet slamming the door behind them.
“And now . . . . time for deeds best done in moonlight,” he murmured seductively, and she shivered.
“Sweet-talker,” Cynara managed before Theo bent to kiss the side of her neck. She swayed against him when his warm lips grazed her skin, shocked at how her skin pebbled into goose bumps at his light caress. Already her nipples were painfully hard, and when one of Theo’s hands slipped up to cup a breast, she gasped.
“You please me,” Theo whispered, “allow me to return the favor.”
Cynara wondered about this new romantic streak in Theo; normally he was more direct; not a bad thing in a man, but before she could consider this further, he bent and kissed her, mouth settling on hers in a decidedly possessive way.
She squirmed, unable to stop herself from meeting his tongue with her own, and within seconds Theo had steered them towards the bed, moving in the darkness with unerring speed. Cynara barely had time to gasp before she and Theo tumbled onto the mattress with a heavy thump. Giggling again, she tugged on his ‘Berserker in training’ tee-shirt, pulling it off as he gave a growl of approval.
More kisses, hot and hungry, taking her breath away. Cynara threw herself into them, savoring the taste of Theo’s mouth. Normally his kisses were tobacco-tinged from his pipe, but he must have brushed, because now his mouth tasted faintly of mead and something else; something that reminded her of ozone. She wanted to concentrate on these little nagging thoughts, but every time she tried to think, Theo nipped or kissed or touched her in a way that dissolved her focus, and by the time she’d lost her dress and bra Cynara resolved to leave any brain activity to the morning.
“How much do you love me?” he demanded, his breath hot in her ear, making tickly shivers run over her ribs. Cynara wriggled again, sliding her arms along his smooth, lean torso, struggling to undo his jeans.
“Lots. Tons,” she huffed. “A little help here?”
“Shhhhhh,” he whispered, and slid a hand down her stomach, fingers gliding under her panties and through her curls. Cynara moaned and arched up against his touch, feeling a surge of lust rocketing between her hips, and the power of it dazed her.
She and Theo had a good thing; she knew that. They’d been together for months now, and things were fun and felt great, but tonight seemed to hit a new level of intensity; her whole body felt like a live wire, tingling and pulsing uncontrollably. Right now Theo’s fingers were sliding and stroking through the slickness between her legs and she felt light-headed as she groaned again. “Oh baby . . .” Cynara gasped.
“Since first I saw you, I knew I could pleasure you as no-one ever has, or will,” came the answering whisper. “You’re not like the others my bride, my beautiful Sigyn . . .”
Cynara felt her body begin to tense, but something about what Theo said made her look up, her hair tousled. “What?”
But he gently tugged the panties down and pressed kisses along the tops of her thighs, face moving between them and Cynara squealed when Theo’s dark head moved deeper, his hot tongue flicking in teasing strokes until it slid around that tiny point of unbearable pleasure.
She arched up, past caring, soaring through an orgasm so strong that she actually gulped a breath, fingers scrabbling on the sheets. Theo shoved his shoulders under her thighs to ride it out, and she felt the breath of his gloating laugh against her wet curls. When she finally relaxed, Cynara gave a great gusty sigh, her eyes closed. “OooooohGod. That was friggin’ aMAzing!”
“She’d be overjoyed to hear it,” came the muffled comment from the lips against her inner thigh. “Being an advocate of love as she is.”
“Theo,” Cynara murmured, “I know you’re up to your horn rims in the mythology every day, but let’s not drag it into bed with us, okay? Want me to return the pleasure, or do you want to have your evil way with me?”
“Oh I think the latter is well overdue,” came the purr, and Cynara giggled as she felt Theo slither up over her supine body, the sweet friction of his torso a body kiss that made her smile. She cradled him with her damp thighs, reaching down to cup his shaft, and purred at the heavy feel of it.
“Want,” she growled, and the sound changed to a groan as he slowly arched into her, his girth sliding thickly in a teasing stroke. Cynara opened her eyes as Theo’s hair brushed her face.
“Want,” he told her, and she saw something in his green eyes, something hungry and vulnerable and familiar. Her legs tightened around his lean hips even as Cynara tensed, looking up into Loki’s face.
“Yoooou . . .” she breathed, confused but aroused. “Shit.”
“We shall talk later,” he told her with a solemn little smile. “Love me now.”
And Cynara did.