Chapter 10

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After shrugging off your damp jacket, you shuffle closer to the fire—the warmth of the flames reaching your skin and making you shiver. He's right...these clothes are disgusting...but what alternative do I have?

This isn't what you intended to happen. You hadn't even wanted to see him today—you only had because the storm had forced you to deliver extra food and firewood. You could have been wrapped up warm at home right now. Comfortable. And Loki wouldn't have even entered your mind.

Right?

Liarliarliar, the voice chuckles hysterically, conjuring memories of what you'd done the night before. The dream. The fantasy of his mouth between your legs. How his tongue had lapped gently at your clit before he'd pushed his whole face in deep—inhaling you.

You groan lightly, trying to push the thoughts away. It was a fantasy, that's all...and today was a dream...

But now I'm awake.

As if taunting you further, the sound of running water fills the space, pushing your mind back down to a place of wet skin, dextrous fingers and coaxing lips. What he might look like standing beneath the jets as the hot stream tumbles onto his shoulders...how it might feel to be pressed against him, the cold wall at your back...

You shake your head. What the hell is wrong with me?

Staggering to your feet and ignoring the cloying material of your damp trousers, you head to the kitchen and snag the bottle of wine—a necessity at this point. Your hand is shaking as you fill the glass, the liquid not in there long before you bring it to your cold lips...downing it resentfully.

Why did he have to come here? The past 48 hours have been a complete mindfuck—your life now entwined with this strange man who might as well have come from outer space. I barely know him...and I let him fingerfuck me in the hot springs—the one place that's sacred to my mother's memory...

You pour out another glass, sloshing it over the side by mistake. He'd been good though...made me come quicker and harder than I'd ever done on my own...better than last night when I'd pictured his mouth.

Even now, you feel the telltale sign of his hold—the mere thought of his flexing arm bringing a flood of wetness to pool in the space between your thighs. You squirm uncomfortably, taking another big gulp of wine and following it with a wince. I need to think about something else...anything else...

Then the water shuts off, and not three seconds later, Loki returns to the living room—his long, wet hair dripping across his shoulders, a fluffy black towel tucked around his hips. Your face is almost comical to him—your mouth parted slightly as you watch him cross the short distance into the igloo.

"You changed your mind then..." he states softly as he starts to rummage through his bag.

When he glances at you, the glint in his eye makes your breath hitch. "I...what...?" 

"The wine," he says, nodding to the half-empty glass, "you decided to have some after all."

"I...oh..." With a frown, you look at the glass too—annoyed as if it'd jumped into your hand by itself. "It—it helps with the cold."

Loki says nothing but takes a long swig of his own, focusing on your face. She's trying so hard to be indifferent to me...to dismiss what we did. I can read her now...or at least I'm starting to be able to. That flash of defiance when her feelings betray her. Soon, she'll see evading me is impossible—that evading herself is impossible.

"If you say so," Loki says, retrieving his black pyjama trousers and laying them on the bed. After reaching for the towel, he pauses, glancing at you. "Do you mind? Getting changed here..."

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