Chapter 17

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Rebecca bit her lip and turned away. She had ruined everything. Why had she not warned him before now? Loki had stiffened when she admitted her virginity and she had not held his stare for fear of seeing the anger at her deception flare in his eyes.

She was going to cry, she knew it.

His fingers traced the lines of her face, brushing the auburn curls aside.

“You have given me something precious, to be treasured.”

She looked at him in shock, holding her breath.

“Thank you.” was his final whisper as he kissed her deeply, hands curled into her hair.

They moved together then, their closeness not enough to satisfy either of them. At her nodded assent, he began to push slowly in, and out of her tightness. She had him on the edge with her confession and as he sheathed himself inside her again, and again, he fought hard to keep control.

Their movements grew quicker, her hips beginning to find the rhythm, rising to meet his. He groaned against her neck as she pushed him deeper into her, arching her back and panting lustfully.

Her arms slid up above her head and he wrapped both her wrists in his hand, leaning up so the other could explore the wonderfully supple flesh of her softly bouncing breasts. His need overtook him and his thrusts quickened, eliciting a delightfully brazen moan from his lover. He was gone, her pleasure hijacking his own and with a growl he fell on top of her and slammed himself mercilessly into her.

Rebecca's eyes flew open wide at the change and her moaning matched his, becoming louder and louder until the heat inside her reached crescendo and she stiffened in his arms, grasping at his flesh and screaming his name into his shoulder. He had joined her in climax, her wanton, “Loki!”, tipping him over the edge. He had plunged into her, coming hard inside her warm wetness, unable to do anything but groan out his pleasure.

They lay together, spent, until the sky grew dark and the fire dwindled to embers.

Rebecca looked up at the drowsy Prince next to her, his mouth curled into a content smile as his fingers traced the lines of her body.

“Silvertongue indeed...” she managed.

His laugh was filthy and coarse and she felt her clit throb in response.

“You have no idea...” he replied.

After a moment of silence, she brought her hand to his cheek.

“What do we do now, Loki? We can't stay here forever.”

His brow became lined with thought and he rose, pacing to the window.

“You're right,” he said, pausing before straightening up with confidence, “ I think, we should pay my dear Father a visit and see if we can't locate your sister. Maybe, with your help, we can even reclaim my birthright, my throne.”

She shivered at the power and threat in his voice.

“That is, of course, all in good time...”

She looked at him questioningly as he turned to her, mischief shining in his eyes.

“We aren't leaving here, just yet.” he whispered, returning to lie on top of her shivering body. He kissed her slowly, leaving her breathless.

“No, we aren't leaving here until you know exactly what the nickname 'Silvertongue' means...”

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