For the next half an hour the only sounds were of leather swooshing through the air and Polina’s soft growls and moans of pleasure as I balanced her between two worlds. Her eyes were blown wide and I knew it was time to give her the rest of what she’d asked for.
I slid a finger inside her silky walls, and she clenched the digit with a ferocity that spoke volumes of her need. I circled her hardened nub and reaching deep past all her defenses. When I felt her walls quivering, I drew my finger out and reached for the bottle of lubricant. I gently massaged her back-hole before generously lubricating the butt plug, she’d chosen for this moment.
I jiggled the plug once it was inserted, eliciting a deep moan from Polina. I stepped around to the front of her, gazing into her dilated pupils. “Tell me what you want, Polina.”
“You.” No hesitation. Not an ounce of question.
“Make me fly, Master Loki.”
That was all the permission I needed. I’d long since removed most of my clothing. Now, I toed my shoes off and dropped my boxers and trousers in one fell swoop. Her lidded eyes gazed longingly at my cock.
Gripping the ropes that held her, I slipped inside her entrance. Slowly, inch by insatiable inch I moved inside Polina who had dropped her head back with a sigh. Once I was seated fully inside, I reached around and grabbed her ass cheeks in both hands.
“You will ask permission before your first orgasm. After that, fly as far and as often as you wish.”
“Yes. Master Loki.”
The soft flesh fluttered under my ministrations and it wasn’t long until she begged for release.
“Now,” I commanded.
Polina’s primal scream was music to my ears. This had been suppressed while she learned to trust, then again in her father’s home for security reasons. But here, at Asgard, she could scream to her heart’s content and she did. This more than anything spoke of our next steps, of leaving the past where it belonged, behind us and carving out a new reality for each of us.
When I finally took her down, she was spent. Already asleep by the time I’d finished massaging all of her limbs.
Chapter 21
Polina
The aftercare room at Asgard was nothing like the one at Midgard.
Midgard’s had the quality of a well-appointed waiting room, comfortable, functional, designed for the practical work of returning people to themselves after scenes.
This was different. Softer light, a deep sofa, blankets that felt like they had been chosen rather than procured. A low table with water and chocolate and the kind of quiet that didn’t feel empty.
I was wrapped in a blanket and tucked against his side and I was not trying to leave.
That was the first thing I noticed. The absence of the impulse. Every previous scene I could remember, the moment the endorphins had begun their recession I had felt the familiar pull toward the exit, the instinct to reassemble myself and move before anyone could see the parts that the scene had shifted loose. Tonight the impulse was simply not there. I was here and he was here and the room was warm and I had nowhere I needed to be more than this.
He was different in this room.
Not unrecognizable. Still himself, still the quality of contained attention that had characterized every interaction since Midgard. But something in the containment had loosened. He kept looking at me with an expression I had been trying to name since we’d come in here and had finally placed. It was the expression of a man who had been braced for something not to exist and was still slightly surprised that it did. Like he was checking. Like he needed to confirm, periodically, that I was actually here.
I understood the impulse.
I reached for a piece of chocolate and ate it and felt it do its small reliable work and watched the city move distantly through the high windows and thought about how different this felt from every previous version of this moment. Not better constructed or more comfortable. Just… real. The difference between a room you were in and a room you were actually in.
“I have something to tell you,” I said.
He looked down at me. “Tell me.”
“I’m going to interview at the Barnes Foundation.” I kept my voice even. Not because I was managing it, but because the evenness was genuine, the calm of a decision that had been made properly and sat without anxiety. “Mari has a contact on the curatorial committee. Dr. Ellison. She’s arranging an introduction.” I paused. “A real one. Through the front door.”
He went completely still.
Not the professional stillness, not the operational pause. The stillness of a man who had just heard something that required him to stop everything else for a moment.
“I mentioned that once,” he said. Quietly. “In the dark.”
