The Art of Manipulation || Phantom of the Opera & Loki the God of Mischief ||

2. A Trickster's Game

Chapter Two || A Trickster's Game

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"Hello, Loki."

I felt his icy hand flutter across my exposed back and his smile spread across my neck, "Welcome home, my love."

His educated fingers traced the marks my bra had left on my flesh, both of his hands snaking under my open dress and around my sides, pressing them flat just below my breasts. But before he could go any further, I held my open dress close to me and abruptly turned around, "It's not very polite of you to enter a woman's closet without knocking."

Loki knit his thin brows together, his hands resting on my waist, "Since when have I been polite?" He smirked down at me, his green eyes twinkling in the dim light. "You don't seem surprised to see me."

I chuckled and turned around again, reaching being me to wiggle the ribbons of my dress to tell him to lace me up, "I knew it was you the minute the guards told me I'd be staying in your bedroom."

"Then why aren't you staying in my bedchambers?" He took his time tying the laces, purposely brushing his fingers against me, the feeling of his cold hands making the hairs on my flesh stand up. Whether they rose from excitement or discomfort I had yet to figure out. If I spent more time to analyze it, it would probably lean more towards the latter.

Keeping my hair over one shoulder I spoke, a trace of amusement still laced in my voice, "A woman must have her privacy."

Finishing up the last lace of my dress he turned me to face him, keeping his hands on my upper arms, the grip strong and possessive, "You talk as if I haven't seen every inch of you." He then leaned down to press his lips to mine, the movement as swift and as smooth as a cobra charging.

I averted his kiss by moving back, smiling to soften my denial. Gently pushing past him I stepped out of my closet, the room starting to feel like a cage Loki wished to keep me in. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the glimmer of Odin's scepter that rested against my vanity table, "Ruling Asgard well, I trust?"

Loki grabbed the Allfather's scepter, following me close, "You know of this?"

With a hint of a smile still on my face I faced him, my arms crossed and my chin tilted upward, "I know a lot of things, Loki."

Loki smirked in response, his right hand tightening around the Allfather's scepter. Knitting my brows together in thought, I said, "It must be difficult keeping Odin's form for so long."

Loki smiled arrogantly and circled me, eyeing the sheet music on my bookshelf with a smidgen of annoyance, "Not if you have had practice. For an inexperienced shapeshifter like yourself, it may be harder to keep someone else's form for a long period of time." I nodded my head and lowered it, my lips pressed tightly together as I thought this over.

Perhaps I should practice shapeshifting more. It would be something to help pass the time now that I'm back in Asgard... Which brings me to another question.

Raising my head, I met Loki's green gaze, "Why did you summon me back here?"

A toothy smile flashed across Loki's slender face, "Isn't it obvious?" He came close, his left hand possessively grabbing me again, except this time by my waist, "I've missed you."

He tried again to connect his lips with mine. However I was quick and turned my head, defensively pressing my hands to his chest to keep my distance in his embrace, "Loki, don't."

He remained by cheek, his breath cold and steady. I could see the frustration boil up in his eyes; his green irises close to boiling like melted metal. He puffed out the air in his chest and walked away, speaking through gritted teeth, "Do I have to be the form of that Parisian musician like the last time I tried to advance on you?"