Chuckling softly as his back hit the sand, Loki slid the straps of her bra from her shoulders, fingertips grazing the lines of her collarbones, his mouth dry with the desire to taste her. He cupped her breasts through the practical cotton of her bra, thumbing at the pebbles of her nipples, his eyes dancing with mischief as he made the garment vanish all together.

"How's your head?" He inquired, sounding playfully casual as he touched her. "A concussion calls for a respite from strenuous activity."