"Like, was it? I don't recall that being the word," Loki smirked, holding her against him as he rolled them both to bring himself over her. They would both be impossibly sandy, once this was all over, and he would probably be insufferable in his complaining, but it would be worth it.

He kissed her, lips first, then the point of her chin, the long column of her throat. Every time she allowed this— welcomed it, in fact, he felt absurdly grateful. She'd chosen this, with him, as he'd chosen her, which was a rare gift for people like them.