Chapter 9
The Asgard Universe - The Twins of Fate Saga - Summary/Content Note
This chapter contains explicit sexual content intended for adult readers (18+).
If that’s not your preference, you can safely skip Chapter 9 — it’s an optional interlude and doesn’t affect the main storyline.
By continuing, you confirm you’re comfortable with mature material.
Otherwise, you can return to the main story.
Loki’s nose brushes against the slope of her neck, just below her ear, inhaling deeply. He's savoring her, enjoying drawing this out and getting her worked up in the process. His fingers crawl higher, tracing against her skin with teasing slowness, until his hand slips fully under her dress, exploring the bare skin of her thigh.
"I can't imagine that you're wearing any armor or weapons under here," he murmurs into her ear, lips almost touching her skin. "But I'm going to make absolutely sure."
She places her hand over his as he moves it over her skin, not to stop him or slow him down but just to have even more contact.
"This fabric is too light to conceal armor or much of anything." She presses back against him just slightly.
His fingers slide even higher, now moving along the inside of her bare thigh. His other hand tightens on her hip, his chin brushing against her earlobe once more. He's enjoying this more than he thought he would. He can feel how much she wants him, and he loves it.
"You're right, it is far too light." He breathes the words into her ear, his voice soft and deep. "That means there's nothing at all standing in the way of me exploring everything I want to."
"You know, it's late, and the party is still going while we are completely alone in your very nice room. I think it's the perfect time for you to explore and make some discoveries."
Her words make him chuckle slightly, the rumble of it deep and rich. He likes knowing that the party is continuing outside, and here they are, alone, with no one to interrupt them and all the time in the world to take things slowly. That knowledge makes the situation even more delicious.
"You've made quite the tempting argument," he murmurs, his fingertips now trailing along the edge of her panties, teasingly close to where he really wants to touch her. "I would be a fool not to take advantage of it."
She gasps so softly, and her head falls back against his shoulder as his fingers brush so close.
"Please...you have my permission to take full advantage of our time alone."
He makes a pleased sound deep in his chest at her response, the soft gasp, the way she leans back into him. It’s all the encouragement he needs. His fingers finally dip beneath the fabric, sliding against warm, damp skin.
"I intend to." His voice is rough with hunger now as his lips find her neck, kissing along the delicate curve of it while his fingers explore further, slow and teasing at first before building to something more demanding. "Every. Last. Second."
She melts against him, wanting as much contact as she possibly can get. Her knees get weak. Being in this position with him behind her, she can't do much but turn her head to kiss him. It's such delicious torture.
He meets her halfway without hesitation, lips meeting hers as his arm wraps around her waist, keeping her pressed back against him. His tongue slides into her mouth, and he kisses her fiercely, hungrily, a low groan building in his throat. He wants her more than he's ever wanted anything, and his touch is showing her just how much. His hand works between her thighs, teasing at first, his fingers still exploring slowly, but his touch is slowly growing more desperate, more impatient…
Gwen's breath catches as she feels the unmistakable push of his growing arousal pressing against her lower back. The realization makes heat flood through her - he wants this just as badly as she does. She reaches back with one hand, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt at his hip, anchoring herself to him while he works her over with those clever fingers.
A particularly skilled stroke of his thumb has her breaking their messy kiss to gasp sharply against his mouth.
"Loki-"
The way she breathes out his name sounds like both a plea and a prayer. Her grip tightens on him, knuckles going white where they fist in silk.
She wants more. She wants him right now, but she doesn't dare move; she's not even sure if she could. The only thing she can think about now is him and all the things she wants to do to him, with him. She almost curses herself for waiting this long, but she knows that if they had done anything earlier, it probably wouldn't be nearly as good as this.
He can't think anymore. Not when she's all but trembling in his arms, his name on her lips, her body pressed back against him like she needs him. It's almost too much for him to take. He wants to take her right now, right here, but there's a small part of him that wants to savor this for a while longer. He wants to pull more of those sounds from her, to feel her completely unravel beneath his touch. He wants all of it, wants all of her...
"I want you..." His voice comes out rough and barely above a whisper.
She makes a noise, something between a sigh and a moan. "You have no idea..."
Part of her wants to turn around, take control and trace the outline of every one of his toned muscles with her tongue. She wants to get on her knees to show him just how much she wants him and take him apart slowly with her mouth. The other part of her wants him to take the lead, to throw her on the bed and take her in any and every way he wants.
That sound she makes goes straight through him; the combination of her voice and the way she moves against his fingers nearly makes him lose all restraint. He can feel himself throbbing against her. He's already too close to coming apart just from touching her like this.
"Oh, I think I do." He groans out between slow, deliberate thrusts of his fingers inside her. "The way you're shaking for me... the sounds you're making... Tell me what you want. Tell me how to ruin you."
She feels like she'll go crazy without his hands on her, but she manages to pull it together.
"Stop. I want you to stop."
He goes still as a stone; the breath freezing in his chest. It takes every bit of his self-control to do as she asks, but he does it, pulling his hand from her. He can still feel her heat, the dampness at his fingers, and wants nothing more than to go back to touching her, to drive her over the edge, but he obeys, stepping back just slightly.
His eyes rake over her as he regains control of his breathing, his voice rough when he speaks. His jaw is clenched so tight he can barely get the words out.
"Why?"
She turns around to face him. It was difficult to ask him to stop.
"I need more." She grabs his hips and presses herself against him as she tilts her head to kiss his neck softly. "I need you." Her fingertips graze the skin at the waist of his pants.
The feel of her lips on his neck, her words, and the way she presses against him almost make him lose all sense of reason. He's so damn hard, aching for her, and she's just teasing him with her words and hands.
"Then take me," he murmurs, his voice deep and commanding. He watches her, his fingers itching to touch her again, but he clenches his hands instead. He wants to let her have complete control this time. He wants to make her take what she wants.
The corner of her mouth turns up in a smile. She keeps her eyes on his as she undoes the fastenings on his pants. She kisses down his neck and then slowly sinks to her knees. She looks up at him for a moment, almost as if looking for permission, but she knows she already has it. She wastes no more time as she frees him from his pants and begins to use her hand and mouth on him.
He gasps sharply, his hands instinctively tangling in her hair as she takes him in hand. His hips twitch forward before he can stop them, and when her mouth is suddenly on him, slick and hot, he sees stars.
"Gods..." he chokes out between ragged breaths, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly. He fights the urge to thrust into that perfect mouth of hers, but it's agony holding back like this. "That's it...just like that..."
She moans around him at the feeling of his fingers tightening their grip in her hair. She loves it. Gwen works faster, taking him deeper and deeper.
He's trying so damn hard to hold back, but the vibration of her moan combined with how eagerly she takes more of him is undoing him fast.
"Fuck—" his voice cracks, his hips jerking forward before he can stop them. "You're going to make me—" He doesn't even finish the sentence before his fingers clench in her hair and he comes apart completely with a groan that borders on desperate.
Gwen takes everything he had to give without hesitation.
There are just a few blissful, silent moments of them both catching their breath before he finally lets go of her hair and gently tugs her up.
"Come here," he murmurs, his voice still a low growl as he pulls her to her feet to kiss her hungrily, his hands moving over her body to pull at her dress. "I want you out of this. Now."
"Help me. These Asgardian dresses have so many ties and straps..." She likes the dress but curses its belts and ties.
He chuckles as he starts on the ties and straps, nimble fingers working fast and efficiently. He's impatient, but there's something exciting about peeling away the layers to get at the prize underneath.
"I swear the purpose of these fancy dresses is to drive men mad." He mumbles as he undoes the last of the fastenings and the dress slides to the floor.
"I think it worked." She laughs a little as the dress falls away.
His eyes roam over her, and his breath hitches as he drinks in the sight in front of him: all that bare skin, her hair messy and wild from his hands. Just as he'd imagined, but somehow a hundred times better.
"Damn right it did." He murmurs, fingers trailing over her soft curves as he steps forward. He picks her up and lays her down on the bed without another word, covering her body with his own as he captures her mouth in a hungry kiss.
She wraps her arms around him and spreads her legs to let him fit in perfectly against her. She is relieved and glad he is ready and willing for more.
He presses into her, his mouth kissing a trail down her neck, over her chest as his hands slide down her sides to her hips. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering up to meet hers.
"Anything off limits?" he murmurs softly, his lips pausing against her collarbone. He could already feel his body responding to the feel of her body underneath him, the way her fingers were tracing over his shoulders and down his arms … he wanted her, all of her.
"With you? God, no," she huffs out a small laugh.
He grins against her skin at that, her words sending a little thrill through him. It's exactly the answer he wants to hear.
"Good," he murmurs, his hands moving down the backside of her thighs, lifting her legs higher as he positions himself between them. His eyes are dark with desire as they trail over every inch of her body. "Because I was planning on having every part of you, in every way possible, tonight."
"You better mean that." She pulls him closer and kisses him, arching her back and rolling her hips against him. She wants everything he has to give in every way.
He groans at the way she arches up into him, her hips rolling like that—Gods, she’s perfect. His hands tighten on her thighs as he pulls back just enough to smirk down at her.
"Oh, darling," he purrs between kisses along her jaw, "when have I ever said something I didn’t mean?" Then he shifts his grip and flips them both over in one smooth motion, pressing a hand to the small of her back so she straddles him properly, his expression pure wicked intent. "Now, let me show you exactly how serious I am."
He moves again, turning them in another smooth turn of motion, putting him on his knees with her in his lap, straddling his thighs. His mouth finds her collarbone again, his hands splaying across her back, one going up to tug at her loose curls roughly and the other moving down to her thigh in a firm grip.
"I told you I was going to take you all night, and that was no lie." He murmurs against her skin, pressing a trail of kisses down her neck, stopping just above her breast to press an open-mouthed kiss just above her heart.
She holds him close. There is no space between them now. She is in his hands. This is more than just lust and a quick, meaningless night together. She could have left that party with Einarr or another warrior, probably even Thor, if that's all she wanted, but she wants Loki and she wants everything he has to give. If it ends up being just tonight, which is likely since she goes back to Earth in the morning, at least she got a night of something good and real.
He can feel the change in her, even without looking at her face, in the way she holds herself tighter to him, the feel of her hand in his hair at the base of his neck... it makes his heart ache even as the heat pools low in his stomach and he can feel himself growing impossibly harder.
"I can't wait anymore," he murmurs against her skin, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "I need—I need you."
"Yes,” Gwen nods. You have me."
He surges forward then, kissing her deeply and possessively as he pushes them back into the pillows. The desperation in his movements is real, not practiced seduction but raw need. And when he finally takes her, it's with a reverence that should be impossible for the God of Mischief... but there it is anyway.
Because tonight, she isn't just another conquest. She's something rarer.
Something real.
When they are spent, when they are both boneless and panting in each other's arms, Loki pulls her close to his chest and buries his face in the crook of her neck. His fingers, now gentle and soft, trace lazy patterns along her back, drawing invisible designs on her skin.
He's tired. It's rare that he's this exhausted from a night of lovemaking. As he starts to drift off to sleep, he presses a single kiss to the top of her head and murmurs softly against her hair.
"Mine."
She snuggles into him. He asked her to stay with him and not in the guest rooms Thor had set up for her and the other Avengers. That alone is amazing. But she didn’t just get a night of talking with someone she connected with; no, she got a night of passion with the God of Mischief. She tries to fight sleep. She wants to soak up every last minute with him.
Her body relaxes against his, the fight against sleep proving futile as warmth and exhaustion pull her under. The last thing she feels is the faint brush of his fingers combing through her hair before oblivion takes her.