Chapter 8 #2
As he gazed upon her peaceful form, a resolve bloomed within him.
He knew he couldn't be everything to her, but in that instant, holding her close was more than enough.
And in the quiet embrace, Loki found solace in the simple connection.
A connection never given to him in his hours of need.
In his years of torture. In his eons of loneliness and pain.
He lowered his head, pressing his lips against the strands of her damp hair.
Emotions surged and swirled within him, a tumultuous storm of unease.
How could this be? He had battled giants, challenged gods, and vanquished enemies by the thousands.
And yet… this one lone Valkyrie touched a place in him he didn’t know he owned.
He didn't know why she affected him the way she did, but…
a haunting notion crept in. A notion so unbelievable it sent shivers down his spine.
The possibility that she might be the one.
His one. His fated mate.
Val awoke to a surge of panic clawing at her chest, its sharp edges slicing through the veil of sleep.
Her eyes flickered open, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings that enveloped her in a shroud of disorientation.
Where in the realms was she? A moment hung suspended, dangling on the edge of uncertainty, before the floodgates of memory burst wide open.
Valhalla's Throne. The name echoed in her mind, a beacon amidst the haze of confusion.
Her body, a battlefield of sensations, throbbed with a dull ache.
Tenderness lingered as she stretched before her fingers rubbed her neck and then traced the outline of a wing- a forgotten part of herself unearthed after years of concealment.
How long had it been since she last soared freely?
A longing surged within her. Yet, the harsh reality of Midgard meant her wings would not see the sky anytime soon.
On Midgard, a woman with large white wings flying through the air wouldn't be wise.
And down in Helheim... who knew who would spot her and trace her back to Elle.
A resigned sigh escaped her lips as she set her hand back where it had previously been. Her touch lingered, tracing patterns on a smooth surface, until realization dawned. Skin. Soft, hairless… muscles.
Loki.
Her eyes finally opened, and her gaze whipped up to his face. His features softened by the tranquility of sleep.
She swallowed against the tide of emotions threatening to engulf her. She'd fallen asleep on him. She'd never slept with anyone before. Sex, yes, but sleeping, no way. Yet she'd slept with Loki. Loki of all people. Sleeping beside him, a simple act laden with complexities she dared not unravel.
The Loki she'd heard about, and the Loki she'd experienced for herself, seemed like two different people. Maybe time really had changed him. After all, it had been hundreds of years since she'd last seen or heard about him. Hadn’t she changed in the last hundred years?
She studied his face. His high cheekbones and slight stubble that crossed his chin.
His long, dark hair loose around him, giving him a youthful appearance despite his age.
The humans would call him a Metrosexual, at least that's what she thought.
She'd read about it in a magazine. A man who dressed nicely, used skin and hair products, and took great care with his appearance.
That was Loki to a T. She wanted nothing more than to touch his soft, shiny-looking hair.
What? Touching his hair? Had Odin hit her in the head? How stupid could she be? She'd seen women flirt before, especially the humans in the bar. But that was just plain silly schoolgirl crap.
Loki was a flirt, that was obvious, but she was not. Which was why it had surprised her so much that she'd flirted with Marek.
Marek. He'd been gone when her fight had ended. She wished that she'd at least been able to explain to him, but how could he ever understand her anger and pain toward Odin?
He couldn't. But Loki had. Loki had encouraged her to fight Odin.
He'd not shied away from her pain and her rage, he'd... understood it.
Understood her. No one had ever understood her before.
Not that she'd given anyone the opportunity to try.
She'd neither needed nor wanted it in the past. But with Loki.
.. For some reason, she wanted him to understand her.
To accept her. To help her believe she was lovable despite what she'd been through. What she'd endured.
"You are welcome to keep staring at me, but telling me how good-looking I am would really boost my ego," Loki said.
Val rolled her eyes. “As if your ego could get any bigger.” She pushed against his chest to sit up, but he pulled her against him with the arm he had wrapped around her shoulders.
He opened his eyes. "Where are you going?"
"I should check on Elle."
"She's with Thor. She'll be fine."
"Will she?"
Loki chuckled. "Trust me, he's more smitten with Elle than he was when he lifted Mjolnir for the first time."
Val struggled to decide between the need to check on Elle and the strange comfort that it brought her, being wrapped in Loki's arms.
For a long moment, they stared at each other, and then quickly, Loki flipped her on her back and poised above her. He lingered for a moment before she reached up and touched a lock of his hair.
Yup. He definitely took better care of his hair than she did.
Loki bent in close to her, his lips lingering above hers.
No kissing. That was her rule. Always had been. Kissing was intimate, sensual. Neither thing she’d ever wanted to share with someone before. But... for some reason she couldn’t fathom or escape, she wanted to feel his mouth on hers. To taste his lips.
"I... I've never kissed a man before," she admitted.
His eyebrows drew together. "Never?"
She shook her head. "Never let anyone. Never wanted to. It's always been my rule."
A dark desire crossed his eyes. "Is it still your rule?"
She touched his lips with her fingers. So soft. She wondered what kind of Chapstick he used.
He kissed her fingertip, and then she ran the pad of her finger between his lips and into his mouth.
He reached out with his tongue and licked her finger before sliding the whole thing into his mouth.
He bit down, sending shivers and waves of desire through her entire being.
She pulled her finger from his mouth, and before he could protest, she pressed her lips to his.
He didn't move for a second and then wrapped his arm around her further and pulled her against him.
He parted his lips and slid his tongue down the seam of hers.
He flicked his tongue against her mouth, coaxing her lips apart.
When his tongue touched hers, her entire body melted in a rush of heat.
He kissed her soft, leading her, guiding her until she wanted nothing more than to feel him inside her.
She moved her fingers over the lean contours of his chest. Scars raised on his skin, and she touched them in turn, memorizing every single one.
He cupped her face in his hand and then reached down and lifted her leg over his hip. He ground into her core, making her mewl with need. She wanted him. Wanted him desperately. She moved her hand down to his belt buckle and undid it before sliding her hand down his pants.
Loki groaned and grabbed her hand through the fabric. "Slow down, love."
"Why? I want you. You want me."
"Because," he said. "I don't just want to have sex with you, I want to make love to you. The way you deserve to be loved."
Loved? Who said anything about love?
In that moment, desire burned within her with an intensity that eclipsed all else.
The craving for him filled every corner of her being, drowning out the doubts and fears clawing at her.
Love? A mere distraction, a fleeting notion compared to the urgent ache throbbing in her veins.
But amidst the overwhelming passion, a sorrowful realization crept in, wrapping her in a shroud of isolation.
Maybe, just maybe, amidst the flames of lust, there lingered a yearning for love.
Perhaps she dared to hope for it, even in the arms of Loki-
"Signe," she blurted.
"What?"
"My name. My real name is Signe."
"Signe. Means one who is victorious. Quite fitting." He smiled.
The sound of her real name on his lips made her chest ache.
"I’ve never told anyone my true name before. Never heard anyone say it but my mother. Say it again," she whispered. She'd not heard her real name in so long that it almost sounded foreign.
Loki kissed her again. "Signe." He kissed across her cheek to her ear. "Signe." He kissed down to her collarbone and licked across it. "Signe."
Tears formed in her eyes. Her name. Her true name. The one her mother gave her. She’d not told anyone. Not her sisters. Not Elle. Not even Elle’s mother. But somehow hearing the name in Loki’s deep voice was a balm to her soul that she’d not known she needed.
Loki kissed lower down over her breasts.
Val pulled her arms from her torn shirt and tossed it to the floor.
Loki admired her naked flesh and then bent down and suckled one of her breasts into his mouth.
Val bucked against the feel of his lips as her skin pebbled and her nipples hardened.
Her wings caressed her naked back in a soft cocoon.
Loki's hand cupped her other breast as he suckled the first one. Val ran her fingers through his hair, and he pressed his hips into hers, grinding against her.
Val moaned and pulled his mouth harder against her skin until she couldn't take any more. She slid her hand inside his underwear. Loki tensed and nipped at her breast, making her pant.
"I want you," she said.