Sylvie's fingers tighten on Loki's as he slides their hands together, and she hooks one leg around him, shaking free of her robe entirely, skin against skin. Whatever kind of magic Darrow is using on them, she only hopes it has the good sense not to send either Thor to them in the next while.

She has no intention of stopping for anything.

With her free hand, Sylvie tangles her fingers in Loki's hair to guide him, to press his mouth against her breast, a shiver drawing through her at the touch of his lips.