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“What a night! What a feast! What a wonderful husband I have been gifted!”
Loki chuckled, not quite reaching Prince Thor’s fever pitch of excitement over their nuptials. “Are you always so easily pleased or did my father ply you with too much ale this evening?” he questioned, sliding off his silk slippers. He strode into his new home – the crown prince’s private quarters – and appraised the decor with dark eyes. Reds and golds burned bright in all directions, it would all clash horribly with his icy skin and inky hair… Loki already began drafting his changes to take to the castle steward-
He was caught at the waist and thrown over the prince’s broad shoulder. “The night is upon us, little Loki!” Prince Thor boomed. “And I have waited all day to have you.” He booted his way into a grand bedroom with plenty of drapery over the walls and bed to muffle any noises that might be made inside. Loki’s scathing appraisal suddenly drained from him to make way for doubts to fill him with a chill he was not experienced with.
He pushed himself upright with his palms to the prince’s back, corded muscle bunching beneath his fingers, to declare, “Th-there’s something I must explain first-”
“You won’t have anything I haven’t seen before!” Prince Thor laughed raucously at the mere suggestion.
“Actually-” He was dropped to the bedding, a red quilt with gold threading criss-crossing in the shape of shields. How crass. He shimmied himself back, balancing on his elbows and looking down upon his robes. He had been a vision of darkness swanning down the aisle to his now-husband. There wasn’t an Asgardian with eyes who could deny he was the most beautiful of brides for their future king.
“I have bedded men and women both, young Loki,” Prince Thor boasted, “Do not fear, I am quite experienced.”
“And also quite drunk,” Loki grunted under the sear of the crown prince’s breath. Already, the enormous man had crawled atop him.
He was stripped of his copious layers of wedding finery quite heavy-handedly, Prince Thor uncaring as to whether the pieces were torn or the delicate materials laddered as they went to the floor. The rush was almost enough to spook him. Almost. Loki lifted his nose in defiance and squeezed his knees and ankles together, keeping his secret a few moments longer.
“I must prepare you, your highness. I can’t imagine you have bedded a Jotunn before and we are rather different from Asgardians beneath our small clothes.” At Prince Thor’s eager, dopey, grin, he cracked his legs apart ever so slightly, revealing himself with cautious flexibility. Prince Thor, impatient and brutish as he was known to be, cupped his knees and spread him with a crude suddenness.
“That is…” The prince’s mouth gaped at Loki’s stretched quim.
“Your highness, I-”
Prince Thor’s fat wet tongue speared him, silenced him, shocked him with pleasure that twitched up his spine. The prince of Asgard was eating his cunt like sweet, soft peach slices. The sole heir to the Asgardian throne was lapping at him- feasting. No. His husband feasted upon him. Loki shuddered against silken sheets, letting his eyes sink closed and his mind hone on the sensations his husband could bring him. His enormous tongue licked him through, soaking him, fucking him thicker than Loki’s own fingers ever had with only hot, wet, muscle. Pathetic whimpers fell free of him as the heat in his belly grew. His cock, barely matching Thor’s thumb in length, had engorged as large as it could, pulsating with his heartbeat. Climax throbbed closer and closer, fluttering against Thor’s mouth until his husband finally tilted his head and flicked a vicious lick to his prick and sent him hurtling over the cliff of his climax. He writhed against the pleasure, fighting it, almost, and the man giving it to him. Pulling him and pushing him with hands and feet, humping his cunt against his husband’s face in hunt for every moment more he could take from him. His desire gushed over his Thor’s mouth and chin, dripping from his beard when he finally drew up to appraise Loki with mischievous eyes.
“What a gift!” he barked.
Loki’s breaths were stuttered, shaking the spend that had landed upon his abdomen. “Th-thank you, your highness.”
“I meant for me!” he chuckled. Thor flipped his frame like it weighed less than Mjolnir and propped his hips up, his beastly hands wrapping entirely around Loki’s thighs to manhandle him into the position that suited his husband best. With a spell of sparks or spikes he could rid his body of the man’s powerful grip… Loki whined against the bedding and wiggled his ass. When he wanted to be rid of it, he could, and that was what he told himself as Thor’s cock sunk into him, sliding through his own drool and Loki’s slick. Loki’s wasn’t long enough to graze the sheets no matter how deeply he bent to Thor’s passion, aching and bouncing with the prince’s thrusts, desperate to be milked. He twisted on the dome of his shoulder, reaching his arm between his legs, grasping for it. Thor released one hip and shoved the free hand between Loki’s shoulder blades, flattening him again.
Loki whinged and kicked the tops of his feet against the bed. Never was he denied, certainly not in bed! He was a prince of Jotunheim, he was his father’s most proficient magic-wielding spawn, he was-
“Hush,” Thor chuckled, stroking away Loki’s tresses to take hold of his neck. “You will have another turn soon, little Loki.”
Soon to the prince of Asgard was not soon to the Jotun prince. He was ridden until his tip was dripping, until he might just find his release without a touch to his prick, until he whimpered under the prince’s weight, uncertain how he would ever become accustomed to lying without it atop him again.
“You take me so well for one so small.”
Loki groaned and widened his knees. He could take plenty. Stupid Asgardian. The offering of more space was promptly filled, his husband surprising him with even more cock and a thunderous laugh that shook the bed as much as his rutting. “What a gift,” his husband grunted, finally reaching beneath Loki’s belly to take his tip in a punishing squeeze.
Loki yelped, “Gently!” But the pain had surged through him as headily as the pleasure already and locked his muscles in a clench that near-trapped Thor inside of him. He melted to the bed in shakes and shudders, wrung mercilessly through his climax from both his cock and his quim. Thor flooded him, pumping every last drop into his womb in harsh jerks that near-flattened him. No chances were being taken by the crown prince, he would be getting an heir. Loki bit his lip and willed himself not to stiffen again. While it was arousing to be so sought after, and to think of his body swelling with his husband’s seed… his entrance could take no more battering tonight.
Thor thought the same, it seemed, as he rolled off and flopped to his side, pulling Loki with him. They laid like animals did, aligned belly to back, and thick, brutish thumbs massaged his lower back in circles that began from his tail bone and pressed out to his hips. It felt delightful and he would not be saying so. Instead, he groaned and ground back against the touch. When Thor paused he shot a cold look over his shoulder and the relieving touch continued. Only when his husband slipped into slumber did Loki permit him to halt.
Come morning he would surely demand more, and more of that devious tongue… and a flourish of Jotunn decorative pieces to make the place liveable. He memorised his list of demands as his own eyelids drooped and his limbs became limp in his husband’s embrace…