[ His heart quickens its beating as Loki's hands come upon his hips, as the soft touch of icy lips upon his spine sends a shudder of pleasure through his body, the sensation as shocking as the blackened burns beneath the winter's frozen hands had been: yet Thor does not fear, Thor does not expect pain from the hands of his king. Thor does not fear to call himself his, and take what Loki would give to him, and lose himself in the joining of their passion. How many times did he lose himself thus when Loki was his own, his guest, his consort, his own dear love in the palace of summer? Cradled within his heart, given without reservation, and so Thor cherished and protected that dear spirit for the love and generosity Loki gave to him. He could do no less than offer the same.
Breath bursts from him as Loki mounts and presses within, the glide of him steady and slick. He struggles to draw it in again, his lungs swelling, his hands grasping for purchase across the tangled furs, and to be once again filled is a wonderful completion; here in the heart of winter, in the frozen towers of the ice palace Thor is warmed from within by Loki's cock, desire and pleasure heating him more than the densest fur or the brightest fire could. ]
Oh, Loki. [ he breathes, eyes closing, head bowed low, in tenderness and in yearning. ] Oh, my love, more. More.
[ But Loki will be gentle; Loki will be patient and slow and promising as the winter, his soft words like kisses dropped to his skin, and Thor shivers and thinks plaintively that he cannot bear it, not at all, but surely he must, he will, if that is Loki's wish. ]
I would—I would have you always within me, my heart.
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Breath bursts from him as Loki mounts and presses within, the glide of him steady and slick. He struggles to draw it in again, his lungs swelling, his hands grasping for purchase across the tangled furs, and to be once again filled is a wonderful completion; here in the heart of winter, in the frozen towers of the ice palace Thor is warmed from within by Loki's cock, desire and pleasure heating him more than the densest fur or the brightest fire could. ]
Oh, Loki. [ he breathes, eyes closing, head bowed low, in tenderness and in yearning. ] Oh, my love, more. More.
[ But Loki will be gentle; Loki will be patient and slow and promising as the winter, his soft words like kisses dropped to his skin, and Thor shivers and thinks plaintively that he cannot bear it, not at all, but surely he must, he will, if that is Loki's wish. ]
I would—I would have you always within me, my heart.