[ What ensues is a test of restraint -- to give Wanda the time to discover him at her own pace. Loki is in no rush to get from point A to point B; this is not a race. Still, she is working a physical, primal sort of magick on him, and it takes conscious effort on his part not to surrender to it.
Her.
But gods, does he want to yield -- to the warmth of her mouth and the softness of her palm, and maybe the subtle shift from smooth to scarred tissue is just his imagination. One might not consider the lewd sounds of a blowjob to be particularly entrancing, yet here is Loki, eyes glazing with deepening desire as Wanda learns him as he is learning her.
His lips are parted, then bitten down upon. His muscles, tensing and relaxing, only to tense again when she begins humming. The sounds that escape his throat, at times a sharp intake of breath, others a sigh that end in a low groan. The tips of his fingers twitch in her hair, but Loki never clenches down, ever mindful of their physiologic differences. Protective. At this point, it feels like the only conscious act being made because he is allowing himself to yield to their bond.
I trust your heart. His other arm is propped behind him in support. I love you. He is so close. I don't care. His breaths have grown ragged with need. I only want you. So close-- ]
Wanda, [ he gasps, or maybe it's a sob; he's too intoxicated by her to tell or care. Her name carries a request for permission and a warning-- to withdraw now or continue, it makes no difference to him. ]
no subject
Her.
But gods, does he want to yield -- to the warmth of her mouth and the softness of her palm, and maybe the subtle shift from smooth to scarred tissue is just his imagination. One might not consider the lewd sounds of a blowjob to be particularly entrancing, yet here is Loki, eyes glazing with deepening desire as Wanda learns him as he is learning her.
His lips are parted, then bitten down upon. His muscles, tensing and relaxing, only to tense again when she begins humming. The sounds that escape his throat, at times a sharp intake of breath, others a sigh that end in a low groan. The tips of his fingers twitch in her hair, but Loki never clenches down, ever mindful of their physiologic differences. Protective. At this point, it feels like the only conscious act being made because he is allowing himself to yield to their bond.
I trust your heart. His other arm is propped behind him in support. I love you. He is so close. I don't care. His breaths have grown ragged with need. I only want you. So close-- ]
Wanda, [ he gasps, or maybe it's a sob; he's too intoxicated by her to tell or care. Her name carries a request for permission and a warning-- to withdraw now or continue, it makes no difference to him. ]