Sated, and somehow not, Sylvie tips her head in the same direction, cheek against her shoulder, looking down at Loki. There's a sheen of sweat on her skin and her chest is still heaving as she catches her breath, but a grin flickers over her lips.

"I think," she begins, stroking her fingers through his hair, "I was preparing to ask for your cock."

Her gaze is warm, still a little hungry, and while she thinks she could easily fall asleep now, she still wants him. She wants to feel him close against her. It isn't just about sex, it's about needing him in a way that usually makes her nervous.