<div class="floatright">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbmvlfxiKo1rgwwjfo1_500.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Loki<br/><strong>Title:</strong> God of Mischief<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Fortress of Lokitude <br/><strong>Time:</strong> 7:00 PM EST<br/><strong>Tags:</strong> Amora </span></span><br/><hr/><br/>Even as she moved to obey his command, he felt his cold sense of control falling away with each scrap of her clothing. No one saw this, no one inspired this, no one but Amora. She alone called the fire within him.<br/>Loki's expression shifted and his eyes blazed as they followed her every move. She was all curves and gold and crimson lips as she approached and drank and lay down before him. His usual mocking smile was gone, replaced with mirthless hunger, as he stripped off his leather coat and unbuckled the armored vest beneath. Greaves and boots followed.<br/><br/>His body was more leanly muscled than a warrior, though his height matched that of any Asgardian male. His bare chest was broad, well-defined, tapering smoothly to his waist. For centuries he'd fought with staff and spear, sword and dagger; his muscles recalled the speed of striking, the cunning and grace required to wield such weapons rather than brute force.<br/><br/>Though at this particular moment, he felt that no amount of force in the nine realms could restrain him.<br/><br/>He leaped at Amora's beauty like a great cat. Poised above her on hands and knees, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her as his black hair fell around their faces. Softly at first, as if remembering how to be kind; then deeper, longer, his tongue seeking hers, insistent and forceful. She was sweeter than honeyed wine and he was dying of thirst.<br/><br/>When his hand touched her hip it was warm, squeezing the curve of her waist and the rise of her ribs, reaching up to cradle her breast. Kisses spilled over her lips and across her cheek until his teeth met her throat. Now he pressed his tongue against her pulse and his breath was hot on her skin.  The change in sensation was dizzying, almost euphoric, and he felt drunk on heat as he buried his face in her golden locks and reveled in her scent.<br/><br/>The sudden insistent thrum of the Tesseract, so close at hand, forced him upright as he straddled his lover.  Its power teased the edges of his mind as if to remind him of the connection they - no, he - had forged. Power yearning to be spent could perhaps be shared. It was the heart of infinity; why hoard the infinite?<br/><br/>Staring down at her perfection, Loki took her hands and pulled them to his chest. "Amora," he said huskily, "I need to show you... real power." His green eyes sparked as he opened his thoughts to her, sharing his knowledge of the cosmic cube with its patterns and flow and ways to coax the threads into spells without being consumed. He offered her a glimpse of his prize before breaking their mental bond like a slamming gate and returning, eagerly, to the primal heat of the flesh she had roused.<br/><br/>Hands still covering hers, he pushed them down his body, down to the solid curve and swell at his crotch. Cock pressed against leather trousers pressed against her delicate palms. "Free me, please me, Amora, and I will give you a taste of that power."<br/>