#otdhsteow

(Please please please tell me what you think, if you're still reading after all this time)

The elevator was destined for the 20th floor of the palatial hotel, carrying only two passengers. Loki didn't wait for the door to fully close before he pinned Carla against the opposite wall with his body, pushing her against it forcefully enough to shake the car in its shaft. She whimpered pitifully as his thigh found its place between both of hers and pressed against her, grinding into her sensitive middle through their clothes as he sucked the exposed skin on her neck between his teeth, surely leaving an ugly red mark for her to examine tomorrow.

She didn't care about that. She didn't care about any of the consequences of the reprehensible behavior she would be participating in tonight. She let her eyes close while his hand went to the bodice of her dress to grab her breast and roughly squeeze it, and her head kept spinning as it had been since they left the noise and anxiety of the reception behind. She was too far gone, but she felt freer now - free enough not to moderate what she said to her new, extremely dangerous husband.

"I don't wanna feel bad about this anymore," she slurred as one of her legs came up to drape itself around his hip. "All the shit I used to care about, all the shit we've done, both sides... I wanna forget it ever happened."

"Then you will." He paused to resume the all-important task of covering every inch of her neck, jaw, and shoulders with rough, desperate kisses. "When I am through with you, your only memory of this night will be of the obscene pleasure I have wrought upon your willing flesh."

This time, she was willing. She couldn't have pretended she didn't want this if she tried. When his mouth found hers, her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck to urge him deeper into a kiss, and when he rolled his hips to grind into her a bit harder, her nails dug into his skin with enough pressure to make a mortal man recoil in discomfort.

The soft ding of the elevator indicated that the doors were opening. Upon hearing it, Loki moved quickly to sweep her out of the elevator and into an aptly-named bridal carry to their room. He needed only to glance at the lock to disarm it, using his foot to shove the door open and bring them both inside.

The entryway seemed to be moving on its own, tilting this way and that in Carla's unsteady perception as Loki carried her through it and into the living area of the vast penthouse. Their accommodations were just as splendid as the rest of the building, lavishly decorated in muted blue wall paint and cream wainscoting with accents of gold scattered all around, but it hardly mattered what the rest of the rooms looked like; she assumed that once they reached the bedroom, they wouldn't be leaving it until morning.

But they didn't make it that far. Loki set her down beside the dining room table just beyond the foyer and near the staircase leading to a second floor, steadying her with his arm around her waist as she swayed on her feet. He turned her to face away from him, and she placed her palms on the surface of the table for balance.

She yelped in surprise when in one swift motion, Loki hooked his fingers into the back of her wedding gown's neckline to pry the closures apart, tearing the tiny buttons along her spine from their seams. She heard one or two of them bounce off of the hardwood floor as they fell, and before they had a chance to come to rest, Loki had peeled the dress from her body and cast it aside, just as she had requested. He turned her and kissed her again as he put his hands under her buttocks and lifted her up, seating her on the edge of the dining table. While she kicked off her shoes, he stood straight to admire the sight of her in her bridal lingerie, looking up from the lace-adorned panties to the strapless brasserie that somehow hadn't quit on her yet, and finally, to her eyes.

A wicked grin spread across his face as he turned his palm slowly to conjure a dagger. The mere sight of it in his hand sparked terror in Carla, and when he pointed it at her chest, she felt she could hardly breathe, let alone ask him why.

"Are you afraid?" His smile remained as he watched her eyes widen like those of a deer about to be mowed down by speeding car. "There is nothing to fear. A dagger is only a tool, and nothing more than that, in the hands of one you trust." He dragged the tip of the blade ever-so-gently from her sternum to the tender, fleshy spot between her chin and her voicebox, compelling her to tilt her head back to expose more of her neck. "But I do so enjoy what fear does to you."

He brought the dagger down again and slipped it beneath the straining band of her bra, slicing through the fibers at the center until it came apart and fell away. His free hand then went to her throat, his long fingers wrapping around her neck and barely squeezing. She took in a ragged breath to make sure she still could, balancing with her palms spread out on the table behind her. Her legs had parted themselves without her noticing it, acting alone on muscle memory.

"I can feel your heart fluttering," Loki said. "Does this excite you?"

Yes was the answer, but she couldn't bring herself to speak, and she didn't dare move even to nod her head while he menaced her with a knife.

"I wonder if your cunt throbs for me as your heart does." His blade glided over her skin, down from her bare breast to her navel, then to the sinewy bit that connected her hip to her leg. From there, he tucked the edge beneath her waistband and tugged until it tore. He left the dagger on the table just beside her as he sank to one knee before her and pulled what was left of her panties slowly down over her thigh, her calf, her ankle, and finally her foot. He held the useless bit of lace in his hands and examined it for a moment, then brought it to his nose and mouth and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before he discarded the scrap of fabric on the floor.

"Norns," he breathed as he looked up at her from between her legs, his lips parting invitingly. "I've scarcely touched you, and already you are dripping with lust."

With that, he took hold of her legs to hang them on his shoulders. With his hands gripping her thighs, he pulled her to the very edge of the table, a position that forced her to rely on him for balance lest her ass slip off the polished surface.

He wasted no more time reacquainting himself with the taste of her. The low, satisfied hum that came from his mouth as it closed around her tender clit made her moan in a way that could only be described as pornographic. He sucked her vulva as if biting into a ripe peach, his tongue joining his lips in their messy, passionate effort to consume more of her.

Carla wasn't exactly inexperienced - she had been a both giver and recipient of this particular act many times in the past - but with Loki, she was outmatched. He must have done this thousands of times before, by now having perfected the art. With each circle of his tongue, each broad, flat stroke, every gentle, taunting rake of his teeth, he pushed her to the precipice of sweet, merciful release before dragging her back again. In this way, he selfishly kept her under his spell and reduced her to a panting, squirming mess.

But then, he stopped to reposition her, pushing her left leg backward so that her heel rested on the curve of the armor adorning his shoulder. With his left hand now free, he dipped his middle finger into her, drawing it out slowly as his thumb stroked her clit. She whined at the absence of his mouth and at the agonizing, languid new tempo he had set. Leaning on one arm to support herself, she brought her other hand to the crown of his head in an attempt to urge him back between her thighs, but he didn't budge. She groaned in frustration, gripping a loose section of his hair as she writhed against his hand.

He slowed his pace even further as he looked up at her, smirking. He was teasing her on purpose, and he was enjoying the frustration he had brought about with this game of his.

"Please," Carla breathed, rolling her hips forward to goad him into action.

"Please what?" Loki taunted as he went on manipulating her with only his finger and thumb. "What is it that you want?"

She was too drunk and worked up to fully elaborate. "More."

He smiled as he withdrew his hand from her and brought his first two fingers to his lips, sucking Carla's lust from them and making them slick with his saliva. He looked down again to watch as he used the same two fingers to penetrate her again, just as slowly as before, only a bit deeper now. This was malicious compliance. He knew what she meant, and he was toying with her. Until now, it hadn't even occurred to her that he had left his dagger within her reach, either purposefully or not, making the game he was playing all the more dangerous.

But she couldn't give any real thought to regicide, or much of anything else, while the King held her in the palm of his hand. The notion melted away when he found that particularly sensitive spot inside of her. With his fingers pressing on this trigger and his palm resting firmly on her clit, the steady pulse of his hand induced a dizzying pressure that spread through her base. Another pathetic moan escaped from her as her back arched to better angle her hips toward him, an involuntary adjustment that only compounded the overwhelming stimulation she was being subjected to.

In no time at all, it became more than she could withstand, but she was beyond the ability to verbalize this. "Too much," she whimpered half-coherently. "Too much... I can't..."

Only then did Loki do she had asked. While his fingers worked inside of her, he lowered his head again, circling her clit with his tongue. And then, it really did become too much for Carla. She must have sounded like she was dying, but she could do nothing to control either her voice or her legs' shaking as she came, all of the tension in her releasing at once as she convulsed on the table. She felt her juices gushing from her cunt onto his face and her thighs, and in between her own inarticulate, over-pleasured cries, she could hear what a mess she had made of herself, his hand and mouth producing a wet, undignified sound as they coaxed her through her prolonged and all-consuming climax.

As she came down from the ledge, he eased up, coming to a stop and withdrawing his fingers only when she exhaled a shuddering sigh of gratified relief. He turned the attention of his mouth to her inner thigh, licking up the moisture that had strayed there.

Carla thought then that he might give her a moment or two to catch her breath and clear the fog from her head, but Loki quickly disabused her of that notion. As he rose to his feet, he brought her legs around his waist and lifted her from the table with his hands beneath her buttocks. Her arms looped around his neck to steady herself, but as he carried her away from the dining area and toward the staircase, she could feel her head listing to one side, and her blurry surroundings seemed to tilt even more severely than they had been before. Though Loki had been drinking too, it hardly seemed to affect him; his balance was unimpaired as he briskly traversed the narrow steps with the weight of her in his arms, and he had no inhibitions in the first place as far as Carla knew.

He must have noticed her state of relative lethargy. "I do hope I haven't exhausted you already," he remarked playfully. "Draw strength from your reserves, little soldier, for we are far from finished."

***

That's all you guys get for now. Happy Smutsgiving.