Afterwards. [ he echoes, his voice caught breathless with longing and with pleasure and with pain, his cock thrust deep within Loki, slick and full, plunging, plundering steadily, taking and taking of all the sweetness his prince of winter could offer him. Never again his king, not here. That must never be; never again must Loki place his hands on him in mastery, or make Thor spread his golden thighs and yield himself for him, for surely he will forget and forgo his own kingship for all the sweetness of being Loki's thrall, and thus wither away to nothing once more.
So he will master instead, and bind Loki to him, and keep the winter ever beside the throne of summer, leashed to his loving hand, that if cold and pain and darkness should follow him that too will be Thor's to rein short.
His body lays heavily upon Loki's, his kisses as ruthless and plundering as his cock, as his strong arms holding Loki's thighs apart. How sweet this soft tight hole which clasps around him, sweeter than any other lover's Thor has ever known, for no matter who shared his bed there was always an emptiness, a hollowness in being with them, a rift within him where his beloved had been. Eventually he withdrew from the palace to this ascetic's hut and taken no lovers at all. Solitude was preferable, when he could not have the one he loved. ]
My heart. [ His lips brush Loki's softly, his hips drive relentlessly forth. He has never felt so potent, so full of power and life as when the prince of winter is spread beneath him. Perhaps there will be more children for them yet; perhaps this time he will sow his beloved instead, and see him ripe as summer fruit hanging heavy upon the vine. ]
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So he will master instead, and bind Loki to him, and keep the winter ever beside the throne of summer, leashed to his loving hand, that if cold and pain and darkness should follow him that too will be Thor's to rein short.
His body lays heavily upon Loki's, his kisses as ruthless and plundering as his cock, as his strong arms holding Loki's thighs apart. How sweet this soft tight hole which clasps around him, sweeter than any other lover's Thor has ever known, for no matter who shared his bed there was always an emptiness, a hollowness in being with them, a rift within him where his beloved had been. Eventually he withdrew from the palace to this ascetic's hut and taken no lovers at all. Solitude was preferable, when he could not have the one he loved. ]
My heart. [ His lips brush Loki's softly, his hips drive relentlessly forth. He has never felt so potent, so full of power and life as when the prince of winter is spread beneath him. Perhaps there will be more children for them yet; perhaps this time he will sow his beloved instead, and see him ripe as summer fruit hanging heavy upon the vine. ]