From the first moment his emerald green eyes first beheld her, he knew he'd have her. It was not a question of if, but merely how and when. And he would be the one to decide both.

She had been given the great honor of singing for the court during one of Odin's great feasts, where those of the most noble stock would be present and fixing their eyes and ears to her. It surprised him that he didn't already know her name - how had this maiden escaped his notice?

But, it seemed, very few around him knew of her identity, either. He sat with his family at the most gilded, extravagant table in all of the palace's Great Hall, between his mother and brother, and narrowed his eyes slightly as this mysterious woman stood at the very center of the vast hall and opened her mouth. No instruments accompanied her as she began singing the first notes to a song he also didn't recognize, and all of the hall became utterly silent and transfixed at the sound of her voice.

Well, mostly.

"Brother," Thor nudged Loki's side, hissing in his ear. "Who is this maiden?"

"I know not," he replied, his voice and face a cool mask of disinterest.

"She is most fair," Thor continued. "I must introduce myself tonight."

Loki tried not to roll his eyes. A glance towards other tables showed Fandral positively drooling over the singer as her voice washed over the halls, and most other men were in much the same condition, even some of the married ones. That wasn't surprising - these feasts were often nothing more than an excuse for the nobles to drink excessively and philander to their heart's desire, and this poor girl likely had no idea that she was merely a lamb in a lion's den. If she escaped the claws of the noblemen, she would only have to then fight off Thor and Fandral, and for reasons beyond Loki's comprehension, few maidens cared to refuse them. He made sure to snatch up those few that did.

She was dressed in a flowing gown of violet, her dark locks swept up in an intricate design on her head, and though her face was the picture of calm - eyes closed and red lips parted invitingly as she sang - he saw her fingers occasionally twitch as her hands moved with her notes. She was petrified, as anyone in her position would be, singing for the King and his court, but she was doing an impressive job of not letting it show.

"She is quite the singer, don't you agree, brother?" Thor's voice buzzed in his ear yet again.

"Quite. Not that I could tell with you constantly talking in my ear."

"Thor, Loki," Queen Frigga hissed under her breath, instantly silencing her sons. "Do not be inconsiderate. And her name is Aemilia."

Aemilia. Loki thought the delicate name suited the girl rather well.

When her song drew to a close, he watched as the tension left her shoulders with the relief of the end being near. Her final note was the most impressive, drawn out and perfectly executed, then punctuated with the rousing applause of each person in the hall. Her eyes finally opened then, and a smile broke across her face as she visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

He smirked a little, his own hands clapping dutifully, and he ignored the overly enthusiastic clapping of his brother beside him. Thor had all the subtlety of a bilgesnipe in heat. He knew nothing of a light, stolen touch, or a softly spoken word whispered into a waiting ear, and certainly nothing of a seductive look that could cut through a room and leave its intended recipient with a racing heart and flushed cheeks. Loki did, however, and when Aemilia's eyes met his from across the hall, he knew she wouldn't fall prey to his brother's fumbling hands. She would be his before the night was over.

The festivities then commenced, and the Great Hall filled with the loud and jovial voices of Asgard's finest citizens as they feasted upon the finest food and ale in all the realm. Thor's voice boomed through the hall as he and the Warrior's Three began their usual mind-numbingly repetitive tales of battle that Loki could now recite from heart, and he knew his brother's routine quite well by now - whenever Thor found a new object of interest, he first poured an entire cask of ale down his throat before attempting to seduce the maiden, because as brave a warrior as he was, he occasionally needed the aid of liquid courage to woo a female. It normally didn't matter, because the women he bedded had usually had their fair share of drink as well, and all in all, Loki thought it remarkable that Thor could ever remember his conquests clearly enough to torture him the following days with his horrifyingly detailed accounts of them.

But, Loki's well-timed glances to Aemilia further proved her different from those around her. Like Loki himself, she sipped slowly from a goblet of wine, and conversed quietly with several other women, including the Lady Sif. He would look away before their eyes could meet again, but he would feel her eyes upon him every so often as the night progressed. He knew she felt rather than saw his gaze as well.

He watched as the vultures eventually descended upon her. Intoxicated noblemen came first, and she politely but firmly sent them on their way. Around this time, Odin and Frigga retired from the party, which meant all restraint was about to be forgotten entirely on the part of most in attendance. This is when Loki would usually leave as well, not particularly interested in watching drunkards slobber all over each other and make fools of themselves, but this was one of the rare times where he had a reason to stay.

He leaned against a column, invisible to the others by a simple spell, and watched as Fandral made his move on the young singer. She only took a moment or two to decline his invitation to his quarters - he also lacked subtlety, but Loki credited him for his honesty and focus - and Loki couldn't resist the chance to further place a damper on the warrior's night. With a slight twist of his hand, the back of Fandral's treasured blonde hair began smoking before catching fully on fire, and Loki grinned as he ran to a table and shrieked before dumping ale on his head to put out the flame.

"Loki!" the soaked warrior growled, looking angrily around the room. "I know that was you! You'll pay, you sniveling little -"

Fandral was silenced by Thor, who clapped him on the back and laughed the incident off. Loki crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes as his brother then turned to Aemilia.

Unsurprisingly, Aemilia spoke to Thor much longer than she'd bothered with Fandral. Thor was, after all, the heir to Odin's throne, and as loathe as he was to admit it, even mildly intoxicated, Thor was utterly infectious. There was no denying his charisma and innate likeability.

But, as he'd anticipated, Aemilia eventually excused herself, and began to make her way out of the crowd. Loki followed, still invisible to others, and when he found her on one of the many balconies dotting the outside of the palace, he removed the spell with a swipe of his hand and watched the girl take a deep breath of the cool night air.

He stayed there for a moment, lingering in the doorway, giving her some time to herself. She seemed to need a moment or two. When he did finally speak, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"The darkness of the night suits you, my lady."

He wasn't lying. The light of Asgard's moons made her look almost ethereal, and now that he was closer, he could see that her hair was not fully brown as he first thought, but had bits of red throughout it. Very interesting for an Asgardian, he thought as she jumped and half-squeaked at his presence.

She turned around quickly and smiled to cover up her surprise. "Your Grace," she bowed quickly. "Forgive me."

"For what?" he asked, stepping closer to her, examining her eyes more closely. Mostly green, with a small ring of brown around them. Different. "I interrupted you, did I not?"

"It is no interruption," she replied politely.

He glanced out into the night, the dark horizon visible from a distance as the sky grew ever darker. He approached the railing, placing himself next to the girl, and turned his eyes back to her as he spoke. "You sang beautifully."

"Thank you, my Prince," she said, still in the same polite tone.

"I've not heard your name before tonight," Loki said, watching as she seemed to grow a bit more nervous with each word he spoke.

"You wouldn't have," she shrugged lightly. "I am not overly fond of things such as these."

Loki smiled. "You mean to tell me that a young maiden could find a large gathering of drunken, sloppy men to be distasteful? How is this possible?"

She grinned at that, her eyes fixed on the night sky. "It was an honor to sing for the court. I just... do not care much for what follows."

"Perhaps I can have a hand in changing that."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his then, and her shiver was nearly palpable when she saw the way he was looking at her. He wasn't leering, but his intent was clear by the strength of his gaze. Subtlety, he told himself.

"You set fire to the warrior's hair," she said. "It's true then, what they about you. 'Master of Magic'."

"Oh yes," he confirmed with a small smirk. "Many things that are said about me are true. What else have you heard, my lady?"

"Only some of the names that people sometimes refer to you as."

"Such as?"

He watched as a faint blush crept on her pale cheeks, and a second or two passed before she answered quietly, "Silvertongue." She said it almost as if she were uttering an obscenity unfit for a lady's lips, and this delighted Loki greatly.

"Why does a simple mention of my tongue make you blush, Aemilia?"

"It doesn't," she argued weakly, suddenly appearing rather uncomfortable.

"Your lovely rose-colored cheeks say differently," Loki pointed out, running the backs of his fingers over her cheeks for emphasis. She held her breath at the contact. "I wonder why that is."

She shrank away slightly from his touch, but she did it with a little smile on her face. "My Prince -"

"Loki," he corrected gently. "I care not for formalities at the present time."

She blinked, still smiling slightly. His body had been turned towards hers since he brushed her cheek, and there was precious little space between them now. If she took a deep breath, she was sure that her chest would brush his. "It would seem that you do not." She took a small breath and added quietly, "Loki."

He smiled lightly when she said his name, thinking only of how he'd prefer she say it louder and in the privacy of his own room. Or maybe in one of the hidden palace pathways that only he knew of. He leaned towards her, dipping his head down to accommodate their height difference, and before his lips could touch any part of her skin, she turned away from him. He couldn't see the tiny smile on her face as he found himself staring at her back.

"You seem to be rather accustomed to getting what you want," she observed, walking to the balcony's railing as he followed her silently. One of her hands grasped the top of the rail before one of his came to rest on her shoulder.

"Yes," he replied simply. It was true, he rarely was denied what he truly wanted. He thought briefly of Thor and the announcement that he would be ascending to the throne soon, but he didn't particularly covet the throne himself. With the throne came restrictions and expectations that Loki couldn't begin to make himself care about. He would have liked to at least have been considered rather than utterly overlooked in favor of his brother, but tonight was not about that particular slight. He wouldn't waste his moments thinking on it when there were far more interesting things to spend his thoughts on.

He slid a lone finger under a strap of her gown - not sliding it down or moving it, just letting his skin touch hers, and he felt her tense slightly. He then pushed gently on her shoulder, turning her around, and he saw the glimmer of excitement in her eyes when they met his. His other hand rose, the tips of his fingers tilting her chin up just before he leaned down and began the real game with a kiss.

He began it slowly, the kiss a mere brush of his lips against her fuller, slightly parted ones, then deepened it before she had a chance to react. Holding her cheeks with both hands now, he dipped her further back and tasted her mouth with his tongue, feeling her become utterly pliant in his arms as he gave her but a small taste of his skills. He'd almost hoped that she would have resisted more - he did love a challenge.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her body to his as he coaxed a quiet little moan from her throat with his kiss, a jolt running through him at the sound. He pulled away only to get a breath and savor the flush of her skin before he prepared to vanish them to his chambers. She might not have spoken the words, but her body language was consent enough for what he knew they both wanted.

But as he went to kiss her once more, one of her slim fingers pressed against his lips and stopped him. He looked at her blankly as she smiled and all but purred, "Do you know what I've learned in my short years, my Prince?"

He couldn't say that he particularly cared, but he humored her. "What is that, Aemilia?"

She smiled. "That we do not always get what we want."

She then disentangled herself from his arms and gave him a rather self-satisfied bow before walking away. Loki watched, dumbfounded, before his outrage kicked in.

He'd never been so overtly led on and rejected before. It made no sense - he knew he'd not misread the signs that she'd been giving off. She had clearly desired more than a few kisses on a terrace, and yet now she was gone, with parting words that had been clear in their taunting.

She was gone by the time he emerged to look for her, as he knew she would be. He ignored Thor's drunken questioning of what had him looking so sour as he trudged off to his rooms, leaving the party behind for good. Somewhere along the way, he realized that he actually couldn't be happier with the turn of events. This Aemilia was every bit as different from other maidens as he'd suspected, and now he would chase her - though not in the way that another man would.

He would hide in plain sight, hidden from her eyes by his magic as he watched her, studied her, learned exactly what it was about this girl that made her think she could tease the prince of Asgard. He would wait for his moment, and then he would slip out of the shadows, and take what should have been his tonight. And she wouldn't scamper away with a smile on her face when he did - no, she would be too busy screaming his name and falling apart underneath him to do anything but simply be his.

He was grinning absently to himself in the wake of his plan as he undressed for the night, his attention stolen only by the feeling of a strange object in one of his pockets. He pulled the thing out to discover that it was a hairpin, one that had a jeweled flower on the end of it. He turned it over in his hand, a different sort of grin crossing his lips when he realized that not only did this girl purposefully tease him - she wanted him to pursue her, and had even left this little thing on his person to encourage him.

He was going to enjoy this far too much.

Sometimes, he thought that she knew he was watching her. She would search out the shadows with her lovely green and brown eyes as she went about her day, and he would simply smirk to himself. She was a fascinating little creature to watch.

Her parents were nobility, so she wanted for nothing. She spent her days training her voice with one of the most respected singers in the realm, and then would also spend hours at the theater, apparently preparing for a production that she was playing a part in. When she was at home, she divided her time between her parents and her own room, where she would sit at a desk near her window and write until the night grew late.

She was not yet betrothed, but her father was in the process of finding her an appropriate suitor. In the meantime, she simply lived her life, and Loki could almost envy her. She spent her days smiling, singing, acting, and whatever else she cared to do. He knew that would surely change once she was married, and it almost made him sad to think it. Hers wasn't a spirit meant to be suppressed or tame, but it would be if she married a typical Asgardian man.

Loki knew he had a penchant for obsession - it was just rarely roused enough to warrant actual use. It felt exhilarating to have her in his focus, something to take away from the monotony of his days, and something that was his and his alone. Sometimes Thor would ask where he'd been going off to so much and would express his dismay at not having his brother around to drag off on his adventures, but Loki didn't dare speak a word of truth regarding Aemilia. He simply kept it all to himself and waited for the night to come where he would know it was time to reap the fruits of his labor.

That night came after he'd watched Aemilia argue with her father about one of the suitors he was considering for her. She thought the man was vile - and he was, Loki was acquainted with the lad - but her father didn't care much for her opinion on the matter, as most fathers didn't. The partnership made financial and social sense, and those aspects outweighed all others. She argued until she realized how futile it was, then went off to seek refuge in her own chambers.

She slammed her door in frustration and stood there for a minute, seething silently before sitting down at her vanity with a huff. She began taking down her hair, scowling as it fell in waves around her, completely oblivious to the Prince's presence in her room until she heard his devilishly smooth voice break the silence.

"Your father's a fool."

She jumped, then saw his reflection in the mirror at the very same moment that she'd heard his voice. He only smiled at her reaction, sauntering closer to her as she placed a hand on her heaving chest.

"What - why are you here?" she asked, forgoing any royal formalities as she shot to her feet and turned to face him.

He smirked and held up her hairpin between two of his fingers, a short distant between them. "I believe this belongs to you."

He watched her eyes fall upon the pin, recognition slowly dawning on her, and she smiled. He wondered if she'd almost forgotten that she'd left it with him on purpose.

She reached out to take the pin. "Thank you, Your Grace, but -"

"Ah," he quickly jerked the pin away, "what did I tell you of formalities the last time we met, Aemilia?"

Her eyes flashed a little bit, and her demeanor changed. It wouldn't have been noticed by most, but he saw it. She seemed to suddenly understand the nature of this... visit.

The Prince that she'd kissed and left on a palace balcony only weeks ago was standing in the middle of her room, dressed in his lightest armor, smirking as he held out the hairpin she'd placed in his pocket that night. She met his amused gaze and let her smile grow a little bit. "My apologies, Loki."

"That's better," he said as he jerked the pin away from her one more time. She looked at him in confusion, then in slight alarm as he stepped closer to her. He slid the pin into her hair, holding back some of her waves from falling into her face, and she couldn't help but stare as he then took a step back.

"You've been watching me," she said before she could stop herself.

"I believe that," he said, turning and starting to walk around her room, "was the point of your little act, was it not? To catch my attention, ensnare my interest."

"Or perhaps I only wanted to make a point," she suggested. She watched as the prince stopped at her desk and picked up one of the many pieces of paper that littered it, quickly scanning it with his eyes.

"And what point would that be?" he asked distantly, reading quickly through the paper. It was part of a short fiction story - that's what she spent her nights sitting at the window writing.

"That even a royal such as yourself can't always get what they want."

He smirked, turning and beginning to walk back to her. "Oh, but I do get what I want."

"You didn't that night."

"But I will tonight."

He loved the way her eyes widened and then quickly reverted to normal. She was trying hard to stay calm, but the facade was already starting to break down.

"That's... a rather bold statement," she eventually replied. He'd taken to circling her slowly, as if she were his prey, and she knew that was exactly the suggestion he was going for.

"But not a dishonest one," he said. "Tell me, will you acquiesce to your father's demands to court that uncultured swine?"

She paused for a moment before she replied, "Under the law, I have little choice in the matter."

"Yes, but you could have had your pick of far superior men when you sang at the palace," Loki said. "Why did you not try, for your own sake?"

She scoffed lightly. "Every man who spoke to me that night - even your brother - only wanted one thing from me. None of them wished to court me properly."

"Is that what you want? To be courted properly?"

She paused. By his tone, he clearly thought she didn't. At least he'd stopped his circling now.

"I think," he continued, "that propriety bores you as much as it bores me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Should I be insulted by that implication?"

He grinned. "Perhaps. Are you insulted?"

She paused again. "No."

"I didn't think you would be."

"You think you know a lot," she noted.

"I do," he smiled. "I know that it is only a matter of time before the reality of your life stifles you. Living according to the demands of a husband."

"That is my reality because it is the reality of Asgardian society," she pointed out. "Again, I have little choice."

"I don't question that," Loki replied. "I am, however, fascinated with what you are now. And I think..." he walked around her slowly, until he was behind her, "that from the moment you first stepped in the palace, you knew exactly what you wanted."

"I wanted only to make it through my song without losing the notes. And make it out of the palace in one piece," she added with a bit of humor.

"Is that why I felt your gaze upon me all throughout the night?" he asked, his body suddenly an inch away from hers as he spoke the words directly into her ear. His breath brushed her skin and he admired her effort to not shiver visibly.

"I didn't -"

"Do not lie to me," he said, his tone a fraction darker as he slid a hand around her waist. He didn't pull her to him just yet, but kept his hand where it was. "There is no more skilled liar in all the Realms than I - you cannot deceive me, Aemilia."

She tried to move away from him, and this time he did pull her against him, hard enough to make her almost - almost - gasp. "Fine," she steeled herself, focusing her gaze on her bedroom wall as she tried to focus on anything other than the prince's body pressed against hers. "I won't deny it."

"And why do you desire me above my brother? Or the warrior?"

"Fandral?" she scoffed, still staring at the wall, wincing as his fingers dug harder into her stomach through her dress. "If that man were a woman, he would be known as the most shameless harlot in all of Asgard."

Loki grinned. "And Thor? Why did you deny him?"

She sighed. "I admire your brother, but I do not find him desireable in that way. In fact, I think it very likely that if he were to touch me, I would simply shatter under the force of his enormous hands."

Loki chuckled, and the vibration seeped through his chest and into her back. The hand that wasn't on her stomach trailed up one of her arms, then to her shoulder where he brushed her hair aside before placing the palm of his hand over her throat. His fingers curled around her flesh but didn't tighten or cause discomfort. "And could you not shatter under these hands as well?"

"I... I am sure that if you so wished, you could do away with me with ease," she replied, unsure of where he was going with this, but she felt no fear. His touch was possessive, not dangerous.

"I do desire your ruin," he breathed, closing his eyes briefly and letting his hand trail down her shoulder and to her arm. "But of a different sort. Close your eyes."

"But -"

"Close your eyes," he repeated sharply. She obeyed, then felt his arms tighten around her before the floor fell out from beneath her.

In less than the blink of an eye, she felt solidity under her feet once more as his grip loosened fractionally, and she opened her eyes to find herself no longer in her room but in another so opulent and grand that her jaw half-dropped of its own accord. She knew instantly where she was - Loki's own bedroom within the palace - and if she hadn't, she would have been able to deduce it rather easily simply by the colors and contents of the room. It was swathed in various, richly dark shades of green, meticulously organized, every wall lined with shelf upon shelf of books. There was a sitting area, a desk that she thought looked much like her own with the scattering of papers atop it, and a door that she assumed led to a private bath. But her eyes quickly became fixed upon the single largest thing in the room - Loki's bed. It was, in a word, enormous, and she wondered how one could sleep in it without getting lost in it's depths before Loki's hand roaming down her side suddenly reminded her that she wasn't alone.

"You'll get there soon enough, little one," he murmured into her ear, and she quickly tore her eyes away from the bed as a blush crept up her cheeks. She also tore herself out of his grip and turned to glare at him.

"'My ruin'?" she repeated, not daring to forget his words from a moment before.

"Oh yes," he grinned, his amusement clear and great.

"And by 'ruin' do you refer to my lack of virtue to give to a future husband once you're through with me?"

"Ah, but it's so much more than that," he said, almost gleefully, walking towards her and surprising her when he bypassed her in favor of a contemplative walk around his room. "Any man can simply take a woman's virtue, whether offered or not. It is another thing entirely to not only take it, but burn the memory of your touch so deeply into her mind that she craves it... yearns for it... and compares every future touch to that memory only to find each one ... woefully inadequate."

His voice had taken on such a lilting, tantalizing quality that she almost closed her eyes as he spoke. She also almost didn't fully grasp what he was saying until she turned to stare at him as he stood in front of a window, staring back at her just as intently. "I cannot decide if you are simply full of pride and conceit or just... utterly cruel."

He smiled. "Perhaps a bit of both is closest to the truth."

But it wasn't the full truth, and she knew she would never have that when it came to this man. Maybe nobody ever would.

"You see," he said, advancing on her once more, "I relish the thought of bringing you such exquisite pleasure that when your time comes and you must suffer another man's touch, the only way that you can bear it is to imagine that he is me touching you."

She blinked. Clearly this prince had raging ego problems, but she was too befuddled to think on it too much. "So... you wish to cause me lifelong misery and lack of satisfaction."

"You'll have that anyway," he replied matter-of-factly. "I am giving you a gift, my dear Aemilia. And I never said that I would only give you this gift once, or only for one night."

She knew that she should have ran. She should have said no, refused, and left with her virtue intact. She knew that he would let her - she didn't take him for a man who would force his way with her. He seemed to very much enjoy watching her inner struggle, and she knew he was utterly confident in predicting what her choice would be.

She also knew that he was right. He'd barely even touched her tonight and she was already frenzied inside, mostly from his voice and his intoxicating words. She'd never had a chance.

She almost gasped when she felt fingers under her chin - when had he gotten that close again? - but she held in the sound as he regarded her. "You never answered my question from earlier."

She blinked. "What question?"

"Why do you desire me?"

She blinked again, and he ran the back of a finger over her cheek as he watched her try to form an answer. "You... are different," she finally said, not looking him in the eye as she did. "You are dark and... fascinating. You excite me and frighten me all at once."

"Frighten you," he repeated, his fingers moving to run absently through her hair. "How?"

She laughed softy, still looking anywhere but his eyes. "Because... I am not sure that I know fully what I've gotten myself into."

He smirked. "No. You don't."

She then felt solidness behind her - a wall, or the door? - and Loki pressed himself against her as one of his hands held her waist, the other tangling deeper into her hair and grabbing a fistful of it. He pulled and her head jerked to the side, exposing the pale column of her neck to his darkening eyes before his lips descended and he began to devour the soft skin there. He heard, and felt, her gasp at the sudden contact, and her hands went to his shoulders out of instinct. The hand that had been on her waist moved to grab one of hers from his shoulder, and he took it gently in his own and placed it against the wall above her head. His tongue traced her pulse point, and followed down to the place where her neck and shoulder met, and without warning, he bit her.

She yelped, and he grinned as he pulled away to examine his good work. He ran a finger over the spot he'd bitten and said, "Don't worry. This shall fade in a week's time."

Her eyes widened. "A week -"

She tried to yank her hand to her neck, but she found that she couldn't pull it away from the wall. She looked up in confusion and narrowed her eyes at the small strip of emerald silk binding her wrist to the wall, then turned her affronted eyes to Loki. "What is the meaning of -"

"It is only one of your hands that I've restrained," he pointed out, glancing at her other hand as it still held his shoulder. "Shall I change that?"

"No," she bit out, but there was a fresh wave of excitement coursing through her that almost made her roll her eyes at herself.

"Good," he said approvingly. He then dropped down to his knees, and she peered down at him in confusion.

"What are you -"

"Must I restrain that tongue of yours as well?" he asked, looking up at her with a somewhat bored expression. "If you spend this night questioning my every move, I will grow tired of you quickly."

She huffed and snapped her mouth shut, with an audible and defiant snap. He grinned and turned his eyes back down as he lifted the skirt of her dress to her ankles. He then began gently removing her sandals, and she felt her breath quicken at the entirely innocent touch. After he dispensed of her shoes, his hands moved slowly up her legs, and he rose off the ground as they went higher. His eyes locked with hers as one of his hands caressed an inner thigh, making her hold her breath before the hand moved and she felt her undergarments being slid down her legs to her feet.

He bent down to pick them up, then regarded them as he felt the soft material between his fingers. She was about to protest out of embarrassment, but then his fingers twitched and the fabric disappeared.

"Those are mine now," he informed her with a hint of amusement. "Are you going to question me?"

"Not if it means being gagged," she said evenly.

He chuckled. "Oh, that is not what I meant a moment ago. And anyway... I have far better uses for your mouth than that, I assure you."

She blushed at the implication of that, and his grin grew as the color spread over her cheeks. He then kissed the heated skin, as softly as a feather, and placed his forehead against hers as he watched her eyes focus on his lips. Hers were parted, all but begging him to taste them, and he wondered if she was even aware of how his hand was once again creeping up her leg under her skirt.

If she hadn't been aware, she certainly became aware when his hand moved across her thigh and brushed over her center. She jolted and couldn't contain her gasp at that small contact, and he quickly pressed his lips to hers, making her shudder even more as his hand began to toy with her.

His tongue swept into her mouth and her hand desperately grasped the hair at the back of his head, her knees threatening to give way at the competing sensations hitting her like a tall wave. His fingers first only just touched her, and she could have sworn he chuckled mid-kiss, though she didn't bother to demand why because then the touch became more and she could barely focus enough to keep returning his hard, passionate kisses.

He broke away for a moment, leaving her to gasp for air as he effortlessly flicked his fingers and made her tremble with pleasure against the wall. "Is my hand the first to touch you here... other than your own?"

She nodded quickly, her eyes squeezed shut, and he kissed her again in return. Then he pulled away and let his lips hover over hers as he quietly demanded, "Look at me."

She opened her eyes, having no idea of how long they'd been closed in the first place, and lost her breath at the blazing hunger in the prince's eyes. It was almost intimidating, and all the while his fingers worked, and she felt herself soon start careening, lightheadedly dancing off into some sort of oblivion, and then...

He withdrew from her, and she unhappily skidded back into reality with a whine of frustration. He smiled at her confused and disgruntled glare before purring, "Patience, Aemilia. I hadn't intended on taking you that far quite yet, but... I couldn't help myself when I felt how ready you already were for me."

She swallowed a lump in her throat and then jumped a little when her arm suddenly fell from the wall back to her side. The silk restraining it had disappeared, and she rubbed at the numb limb with her other arm as Loki stepped away from her. He turned his back to her and she watched as pieces of his attire began falling to the floor. She didn't understand how a man could wear so many layers and be even mildly comfortable, but she watched in something of a trance until he was left in a simple tunic and pants, both black. He seemed to be fiddling with the edge of his sleeve at his wrist when he said casually, "Unless you wish to be taken against that wall, you can move about as you like."

Taking a deep breath, she slowly leaned away from the wall and looked around. There was nowhere to go but his bed, really, and he knew that. Suddenly her vision began to narrow, and as she realized what was to come - and how much she wanted it more than anything - slight panic began to take hold.

"May I use your bath? Quickly?" she asked, and he glanced at her briefly before nodding. She then ran to the door and threw herself inside.

His washroom was just as extravagant as his bedroom, but she barely noticed as she hurried to the sink. What followed were several moments of what she hoped was typical female behavior before being forever stripped of her virtue - tinkering with hair, patting cool water to her overheated skin, and a lot of mental pep-talking that she knew wouldn't help her nerves in the slightest. She was still trembling from Loki's previous actions and her heart was on the verge of exploding from her chest - could she really handle an entire night of this without combusting?

As if to answer her question, just as she nearly worked up the courage to leave the washroom, she felt arms snake around her waist and looked up to see Loki grinning in the mirror, pressing his lips to her ear. "I believe you've kept me waiting long enough, little one."

Before she could so much as string two intelligent words together in reply, he'd spun her around and placed her right on top of the sink, bringing her to his eye level as his knee moved one of her legs aside so he could stand between them. She again braced herself by placing her hands on his shoulders, and he placed his on the sink behind her. "Now... where was I?"

He kissed her, just as hard and deeply as he had moments ago, and her stomach flipped dizzyingly in response. His body moved against hers, and now that it wasn't covered in a thousand layers, she could truly feel him - feel his hard chest as it slid across hers though thin fabric, feel his breaths become as clipped as hers were as she matched his frenzied kisses, and she also felt exactly how eager he was to have her through the meager barrier of his pants.

Her first instinct was to panic again, but the urge disappeared as soon as it had appeared. Instead, she felt a jolt go through her at the idea that she was the one to cause this reaction from him. She was the one he was kissing as if his very life depended on it, she was the one gently pulling his hair and pulling small growls from his throat every time she did, and she was the reason why his pants were strangling him to death. Suddenly well beyond her previous panic and filled with a possibly temporary confidence, she wrapped her legs around his waist instead of letting them hang limply from the sink, and she leveraged him closer until their hips met. The skirts of her dress were a bunched mess at her waist, so it was mostly her skin he felt as she began to grind deliberately against him. Her hands got brave too, moving from his hair and shoulders to the hem of his shirt before creeping up his bare back.

Her efforts won her a strained groan and a chuckle as Loki's lips left hers. "Are you trying to tease me, Aemilia?"

She didn't reply at first, and she didn't stop her movements either - the friction wasn't a satisfying replacement from his hand earlier, but it was better than helplessly waiting for more.

"Did you not tease me?" she asked at last. "Can I not return the favor?" She punctuated her question by grasping him suddenly through his pants, earning her a tight hiss from his lips. It only took him a moment to smile at her and turn the tables.

"I like your courage," he said approvingly before pulling her close. She blinked and then found herself on her back, in the middle of his bed. His magic was terribly unfair, but it thrilled her as much as annoyed her. He hovered over her, arms still holding her in place, before he asked, "Shall I test that courage?"

Before she could answer, he flipped them over effortlessly, and she found herself straddling his waist, hands to his chest for balance. She looked at him questioningly, and he said evenly, "Take off your dress."

Aemilia had been expecting him to be the one to rip it off, or perhaps make it vanish as he had her undergarments. She frowned when she remembered that - now when she took off her dress and the slip underneath it, there would be nothing shielding any part of her from his eyes. Maybe he'd planned it this way.

When she made no move to do as he said, Loki asked quietly, "Shall I restrain you again and tear it off myself?"

She felt another jolt, the idea sounding far more appealing than she cared to admit. But, she was stubborn, so she reached began her and began loosening the laces on the back of her dress. She kept her eyes fixed on Loki's the whole time, trying to keep a defiant look about her, but his smirk told her that she probably looked half-hearted at best.

When it was loose enough, she gathered up the dress and pulled it over her head, then let it fall to the floor. All that remained was a thin little slip that barely reached her thighs, and when her hands grasped the hem of it, Loki quickly sat up, and in another breath, she was underneath him once more. He changed his mind enough to give her whiplash.

"I prefer my second idea, I think," he said, and before she could protest, he gathered up both of her wrists in one hand and set them over her head, flat on the bed, and once again, she felt the soft but firm restraint of silk, this time holding back both of her arms and making her feel far more at his mercy than one arm did.

He seemed pleased with his work, and she sighed as his mouth latched itself to her neck. She wanted to hold on to his hair, pull at it and scratch her nails down the back of his neck, but instead all she could do was wrap her legs around his waist and try to content herself with that contact. His tongue ran over the bite mark that he'd left earlier, and she shivered as she whined in frustration, "Can you at least take your clothes off, too? If I can't touch you then at least..."

"At least give you something to admire?" he guessed, raising his head and looking pleased with himself. She watched then as his clothes simply vanished, without so much as a wave of his hand. "Don't worry, Aemilia. I'm going to give you much more than that, more than you can yet imagine."

He enjoyed the ripple of pleasant anxiety that fluttered through her body at his words, and also the way her eyes drank in the sight he'd graced her with. He tasted her lips once more, noting the way that she was getting bolder with her tongue as the night went on, and he had to ask his next question.

"You've not been kissed by many, have you?"

Her eyes opened and her face fell a little bit, and he realized that she'd taken his words the wrong way.

"It is not a complaint, little one," he quickly assured her. "I am only curious."

She nodded, hesitantly believing his words. "Not by many, no. Believe it or not, this night is entirely out of character for me."

"I find that hard to believe," Loki said, toying with the strap of her slip, "when it is entirely your behavior that brought you to my bed."

She closed her eyes as his hand brushed over her breast through the slip, swallowing against another jolt as she breathlessly explained, "Honestly, I do not know what came over me that night. The hairpin and what I said..." his hand squeezed and she lost her breath for a moment. "I think... you bring something out in me, something... different."

By now he'd taken to covering her neckline with kisses, and his chuckle bounced off her skin as she finished her sentence. She felt him pressed against her thigh, as hard as a rock and smooth as the silken sheets beneath her, distracting her to the point that when he pulled her slip down and replaced his hand with his mouth, she gasped in surprise. She couldn't help but arch and struggle futilely against her bonds as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, making her feel things she'd never felt before and nearly cry out in need. It was so much, so much more than she'd had but not nearly enough, and her hips moved against him to no avail, only earning her a velvety "Patience" in response. She wouldn't dare give him the satisfaction of telling him that she simply could not be patient with him, especially when he already knew it.

He took his time, working her up into a miserable frenzy with his mouth, not letting his lips drift lower until he heard little pleading whimpers from her lips. He moved painstakingly slowly, laving attention on every inch of her stomach and down to her hips, keeping to the sides and innocent places, which both relieved and maddened her. But when she felt his hands on her thighs, pushing them gently outward as his tongue licked a trail up each one, she tensed automatically and felt that annoying sense of panic resurface.

"Now, now," he purred, his voice vibrating through her thigh as he rested his cheek there for a moment. "Don't get shy on me, Aemilia. I've not yet even begun."

It was the sheer intimacy of his position that startled her, and she couldn't imagine feeling more exposed. Vaguely she realized the slip was no longer pushed down and up, bunched around her waist, but was gone entirely, and she had no idea when that had happened.

"Relax," he commanded gently, and she closed her eyes and did her best to do so. She focused on his little kisses on her thigh, the softness of his hands as they caressed the same skin, and she felt her discomfort ebb in the wake of his touch. Then his tongue left his mouth and stole a taste of her, and she fell apart.

She'd heard other women whisper of this before, the ones who were lucky enough to have husbands or lovers who cared enough to bring them pleasure, but she quickly realized that nothing she ever imagined could have even marginally prepared her for the real thing. He was vicious, merciless with his mouth and tongue from the very beginning, and what he'd done to her earlier against the wall suddenly seemed like pure innocence. Having no use of her arms, she couldn't help but thrash and bite a hole into her lip to keep from screaming.

Maybe his title of "Silvertongue" actually had very little to do with his skills of persuasive speech and everything to do with his skills of an entirely different nature, she thought wildly just as it all came to an abrupt end.

He jerked his head up and, after being momentarily very distracted by sight of this girl bound by her wrists, hair splayed over her flushed face and breathing like she'd just run the length of the Nine Realms, he commanded sternly, "Stop thrashing, Aemilia."

"I can't help it," she moaned, her entire body shuddering then as his arms pulled her legs over his shoulders, holding her in place as he began again. His new positioning didn't help, and she began flailing once again, despite his hands' hard grips on her. She heard him growl in frustration, then felt it, which brought about a whole new shudder, and she whined, "Maybe if I had my hands -"

Before she could finish, the bonds around her wrists dissolved, and she sighed in relief as her hands immediately shot to Loki's hair. Until now, she hadn't looked towards him fully, barely able to handle the intensity of what she was feeling alone, but now she chanced a glance down to his face. She stilled from her jerky movements as she stared, taking in his slightly knit brow and his white-knuckle grip on her legs, listening to and feeling the sounds he made as he seemed to savor every last taste, and she suddenly couldn't tear her eyes away. Then his head tilted slightly to one side and he opened his eyes, looking up at her and catching her overtly staring, and he chuckled as she blushed, expecting her to quickly look away, but she didn't. Instead, she kept her eyes on him and dug her nails deeper into his scalp as she herself being propelled suddenly, without warning, and her head lolled back helplessly as it all came to an end so sudden and powerful that she managed to tear out some of his hair in her temporary insanity.

She didn't know how long it went on or how long it took for her to regain her senses, but when her eyes eventually opened and she felt her mind unscramble, she realized he hadn't stopped his actions, but merely slowed them down. She opened her mouth to speak, but then she felt slim fingers join his mouth in his efforts, and her words became a shocked moan as it all started again. She could do nothing but lay there and try to keep breathing as she reached her second peak unbelievably quickly, almost as if the first one hadn't really ended at all but just paused on the way to the second one.

All sense of fear or anxiety was long, long gone as Aemilia lay there, breathing shallowly and barely aware of the world around her as time ticked by unfathomably. Distantly, after awhile, she felt lips on her neck, and she started to come back to life when those lips found her mouth. She almost blushed at how he tasted different now, but when she opened her eyes and looked up into the prince's very self-satisfied but strained face, she felt a shift take place within herself.

His hardness was brushing against her, on purpose now, and she could only imagine how direly he was in need of attention. She smiled up at him between his kisses and said hoarsely, "Silvertongue."

She said it like she'd just understood the punchline to an old joke, and he smirked down at her. He'd enjoyed himself nearly as much as she had, but he was nearing the point of pain now with his own arousal, and when she placed a hand on his chest to push him away, he caught her wrist and glared down at her. She was too sated to care, and instead giggled and said, "I thought I'd get a turn now."

Surprised, his grip on her wrist loosened instantly, and he let her push him down to his side and then to his back. Emboldened, she climbed atop him and kissed him deeply, not teasing him too much before she began to slither down his body, kissing here and there, waiting until she'd reached his waist before she looked up and nearly brought him to his end with two softly-spoken words. "Teach me."

The glimmer in her eyes and full sincerity in her voice told him all he needed to know, that she'd indeed bloomed to life under his touch and was no longer inhibited by a virgin's anxiety. He would gladly teach her to please him, and he knew she would make a fantastic student.

He leaned up one one of his elbows, his free hand finding her hair as she slid down just a few inches lower and grasped him in both of her hands. He watched her eyes take him in, watched her unconsciously lick her lips as she experimentally moved one of her hands down and then back up the length of him. Gently he placed his own hand over hers and tightened her grip just a little bit, then moved it with her for a moment before letting go. He tucked her hair behind her ear and let his eyes close for one split second, which was the moment she let her tongue dart out and lick his tip in a burst of courage. His eyes opened and he hissed, his hand instantly tightening in her hair as she did it again, her hand still moving up and down as he pushed slightly on her head. He could only manage one word in his state of need - "More."

She understood, and drawing on her newfound courage, she licked her lips one more time and placed her mouth over him fully. His hand on her hair tensed and she heard him grit out, "Cover your teeth."

She giggled a little and did as he said, her hand gripping him as she took in as much of him as she could. Then she drew back up and repeated the motion, then again, not realizing how fast she was going until his hand stilled her movements and he said in a strained voice, "Slowly, Aemilia, please."

It sounded so strange, hearing him plead with her, and the strain in his voice sent a jolt through her stomach. She slowed her movements down, and as a few seconds passed, she looked up to him to search his eyes for approval. She felt him twitch in her mouth when their eyes met, and he hissed out, "Use your tongue."

His legs tensed as she followed his instructions, his grip of her hair growing tighter and tighter. Aemilia's next glance to him showed his eyes shut tight, lips parted, brows knitting closer and closer together just before he abruptly tugged her head away. She sucked in a breath quickly as he ungently pulled her up by her hair and tossed her on her back, eyes wild as he crushed his lips to hers in a hard, bruising kiss.

"Did I... do something wrong?" she asked in a small voice, and he laughed softly.

"No, no, quite the opposite, my darling," he cooed, voice still full of strain as he kissed her again. "I'll have you finish what you started another time. For now..."

She felt a yet another jolt at his words another time, just before reality came back to her as he took her hip and ran his hand down to her knee, bending her leg and bringing it up to his hip as she felt him lightly brush her center. She braced herself, tensing automatically as she accepted what was coming, but his voice in her ear spoke more tenderly to her than it had all night. "The more you tense, the more it will hurt."

She sighed, not at all jarred by his apparent knowledge of this, but genuinely grateful for his experience. She felt oddly safe with him, though she knew she probably shouldn't, but he'd taken her to places she never imagined before this night, and she trusted him to take her the rest of the way, whether it was foolish to or not.

All Loki wanted was to sheath himself inside of her and finally let himself go, but he kissed Aemilia's lips and every inch of her skin that he could reach until he knew that she was ready for him. He didn't know that she'd been more than ready for him from the moment she'd begun to pleasure him, or that she was still in shock from how much she'd enjoyed that particular act. She kept it to herself, enjoying his attentions and taking a deep breath as she felt him push closer to her.

"Breathe," he instructed as he rested his forehead against hers, then pushed inside her as slowly as he could manage. Her hands clutched at his shoulders and she did not breathe, tensing up all over again and feeling shock take hold at just how painful it really was. For both their sakes, he didn't stop until he'd filled her, and as she tensed even more and strangled him from within, Loki dropped one of his hands to the middle of her chest and said a string of words that at first sounded like curses to Aemilia's burning ears, but they weren't. She blinked back tears before a warm, tingly sensation began where his hand was, quickly washing over her whole body, taking every last trace of pain with it.

It left her feeling like she was floating, and she lay there entranced by the feeling until Loki's voice rasped in her ear, "Are you well and good now, because I need to move."

She shuddered at the sheer need in his voice, and she nodded her reply, still in shock that the terrible sharp pain had simply dissipated under his magic. She then gasped when he pulled nearly fully out to slam back in, then again, and again, and all she could do was hold on to him tight as he set his rhythm.

At first that was all it was, holding on and trying to grasp this foreign, strange feeling of being so utterly full, but in only a moment or two, as his thrusts became deeper, she began feeling little sparks of pleasure from deep within, and she started chasing those sparks with her hips every time his would collide with hers. The first time she let a little moan leave her lips, he groaned and brought one of his hands underneath her, holding her up at the small of her back and angling her differently, and she cried out at the sheer pleasure wrought by the change. She scratched her nails down his back with one hand and held on to his hair with the other, matching his every move as her pleasure grew with each of his thrusts, and when she felt his eyes burning into hers, she looked up and shuddered at what she saw.

Loki was unguarded, feral, beautiful in his lack of restraint or care, staring down at her with dilated green eyes through a small curtain of his disheveled black hair, breathing through his open mouth and heightening every last sensation that was rocketing though her with just the strength of his gaze. All she could do was stare and try not to drown under the waves of pleasure that she was riding.

For his part, this was what Loki had been most looking forward to all along. This was what he'd craved since he first heard her sing, and even more so since she left him standing alone on the palace balcony - watching her come undone underneath him, a beautiful, dark mess of a girl that would never be the same after experiencing his touch. This was him imprinting upon her memory, her mind, her very soul as he buried his hand in her hair and opened his mouth.

"You're mine," he growled, watching her eyes widen slightly at the words. "You'll always be mine, do you understand? No matter who you marry, where you go, or what you want... this part of you belongs to me now. You are mine. Say it."

She was overwhelmed. He pushed into her harder, punctuating his words, and she nearly toppled over the edge.

He kissed her, hard and fast, then repeated himself. "Say it, Aemilia."

"I'm yours," she obeyed, her voice a little too high pitched under her very pleasant duress. "I'm yours..."

His features seemed to soften just a little bit then, and he buried his face into her neck as she thought she heard him groan "mine" a few more times. She held him close and gasped when one of his hands reached between them, bringing her to her end with but one little touch of his fingers. Already unbearably tight, she clenched around him and made him see stars, and he pulled painfully hard on her hair as he finally, finally, found his satisfaction.

Her mind was a haze of pleasure, passion and pain as his weight fell upon her, and she didn't want to come back to reality. This was far, far better - she could never leave this room again and be perfectly happy, she was sure of it.

His heavy, uneven breaths on her neck and slowly loosening hands were what eventually brought her back around, and when he finally rolled off of her and to his side, she opened her eyes and tentatively looked to him. She wondered if he'd really meant what he said, or if it had simply been the ravings of a possessive egomaniac in the throes of passion. She quickly had her answer.

"I do always get what I want, Aemilia. Remember that the next time I call upon you," he said in a deep, lazy voice. "And I shall. Frequently, I suspect."

Her heart thudded, unsure of how to take this. She knew she'd never deny him, not after tonight. He was right - he truly was her ruin. Ruin that she welcomed with open arms.

His hand reached her, trailing over her stomach and up to her breast, massaging it lightly as she closed her eyes. Somehow, even after all they'd done, the touch sparked a fresh wave of excitement within her, and she was relieved to feel his lips upon her neck and his breath hot on her ear as he whispered but one word to her.


A/N: erm... so... yeah. My first-ever attempt at Loki sexytimes, which is way more intimidating than it should be, but I think it turned out ok :) I may be adding to this in the future or writing a sequel or two, but for now it's a oneshot, written for the lovely and amazing midnightwings96. Thank you to everyone who reads this, reviews are much appreciated! :D