Some remark occurs to her, sarcastic, teasing, and her lips are parted to say it when his mouth finally closes around her and instead all she manages is a gasped breath that almost sounds like his name. Her fingers tighten through his, something impossibly sweet in the gesture that makes her chest feel suddenly tight, even as pleasure swells inside of her.

She worries for a second she might cry, but then Loki does something particular good with his tongue and the thought it driven from her mind as she gasps and lifts her hips, pressing herself against his mouth.

“Fuck, like that,” she says, holding his hair with one hand. “Like that, Loki-“ Anything else is lost as she comes, clinging to him with her hands and her thighs.