Temptress (LokixReader pt. 24)

“Well?”

You looked up from where you were seated in one of the golden chairs before the fire-pit in your chambers, your eyes shadowed and emotionless as Amora stepped lithely out of the shadows. Quite literally, in fact. The firelight danced across her skin as she strode gracefully across to you, her hips swaying sensually with every languid step, and her eyes intent upon your face. “Has he been punished?”

“Not yet,” you murmured, looking back into the fire, “I do not how to punish him. I do not wish to be cruel…but I have to do something or the people will lose their faith in me.”

“Where is he now?” the Enchantress asked, her fingers brushing your shoulder as she circled around the chair, “Where is he being kept?”

“He is locked away in the dungeon,” you said, attempting to ignore the way her touch tied your stomach in fiery knots. She pulled away, circling around to stand before you, looking incredulously down at you.

“That’s it?” she said harshly, “You just locked him away?”

“He is not a threat behind bars!” you flared, tired of being questioned and resisted.

“Loki is always a threat,” she hissed, her hands curling and uncurling reflexively. “How long do you think he will stay behind those bars?”

“Wh-what?” you said, uncomprehending. She tossed her blonde hair irritably.

“He will only remain in the dungeon as long as it amuses,” she murmured, “If he wished to escape, it would only be too easy for him.”

“I had to do something,” you snapped, pushing yourself to your feet, “what would you have suggested? Would you have had me kill him on sight? Is that it?”

Something in her face had changed when you had stood. There was a strange gleam in her green eyes and she shifted her weight slightly, her ardent eyes intent upon your face, sweeping up and down your body. Her breasts swelled over her emerald bodice as she inhaled deeply, her eyes glittering under her thick lashes and the corner of her mouth lifted slightly in a smile. She reached out her hand to caress your cheek, her nails trailing across your skin and sending a thrill shooting into your core, which was getting uncomfortably hot. “Your beauty only increases with your anger, my queen.”

“Amora, what are you doing?” you murmured, resisting the urge to nuzzle into her touch. She leaned in and pressed her lips to yours. She was soft and warm, her velvet lips perfectly fitted and snug to yours and you instinctively tilted your head, your hand lifting to cup her cheek. Her mouth locked on your bottom lip and she sucked on it slightly, her other arm snaking around your waist, and you kissed her back, your tongues dancing together. She was different from Natasha. Natasha was a hard woman, muscled and agile. Natasha was firm in your arms, always happy to take command. Once a femme fatale, always a femme fatale.

But Amora….she was graceful and lithe, swaying and sensual, her hands were everywhere at once, trailing down your back and pulling your hips against hers. She was soft, her body pressed against yours in all the right places, her hand fitting perfectly in the curve of your waist. You felt a tingle spread across your skin, liquid heat building in your belly, and your eyes snapped open.

“No!” you cried, ripping yourself away, your fingers pressed against your lips. You gasped for breath, your cheeks flushed and your heart fluttering. You forced yourself to breathe normally and turned back to look at the blonde Enchantress, “Are you trying to cast a spell over me, Amora? Are you trying to bring me under your control?”

“No!” she exclaimed, looking hurt.

“Then what are you doing?” you demanded, “Why are you doing this?”

She reached out to touch your cheek again, whispering tenderly, “Loki is a danger to you. He hurt you. I can see it in your heart and soul. I just want you to know that you are loved.” And she kissed you again. You began to melt against her, your thoughts muddled by the scent of her skin and the feeling of her lips on yours.

You broke away, but more gently this time. “Amora….I do not believe Loki is evil.”

She stilled, her face hardening, “Then you are a fool. He was going to kill you.”

“But he didn’t!” you insisted.

“Because you stopped him!” she snapped, “No other reason. You are so naïve! A child could see what you refuse to admit!” You turned away, taking a couple steps away, your temper rising along with your exhaustion. She scoffed coldly from behind you, “Tch, you are blind to his ambition! He will never cease and he will tear you apart. You will realise that you were wrong, that you were nothing but a lovestruck girl. But by then, it will be too late.”

You lips mouthed her last words and your eyes widened. You whipped around, “What do you mean too late? What do you know………Amora?”

She had vanished.