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More than that, I respondedin his language.
What just happened? How did that happen? I’ve worked so hard to learn a handful of words and, suddenly, he gives me his dick and now I know Sombra?
Did he know that would happen? Was that why he was so insistent in the beginning that we fuck again. Is that how it works here?
For some reason, the word ‘essence’ pops into my brain. I shove it out, then try to shove Loki away from me.
Only one works. I forget all about ‘essence’ while struggling to move Loki an inch.
I push his chest again. “Get off me.”
He frowns.
“Get off me!”
That’s what I meant to say. The words that I shout aren’t in English, but like before, I understand them instinctively.
I just spoke in Loki’s demon language again. Without even meaning to, I switched from English to Sombran.
Are you kidding me?
I don’t think that’s what has him rising up, pushing his big body off of mine. You ask me, he doesn’t look surprised at all that I’m suddenly fluent. Oh, no. It’s the pitch of my voice as I’m two seconds away from freaking out. The way I shouted at him to get away.
He goes. Withdrawing his cock slowly, I swallow my traitorous moan as he manages to hit nearly every damn nerve ending on his way out. His expression still bewildered if less wild than before, he shifts to the other side of the bed.
Scrambling up and out, I move out of his reach while I try to process what just happened.
It all started with that… thatthing. The scary beast thing that attacked me when I went searching for Freya.
That part was my fault. With Loki fast asleep for the first time since I’ve known him, my curiosity got the better of me. I had this strange urge to peek my head out the only door in his home, getting a better look at the shadow world of Sombra.
I never expected Freya to dart outside, or that I’d discover what other types of creatures live out in the dark.
Freya is a squirrel-cat. Thatthingwas a bear-goat on steroids. If Loki hadn’t woken up in time to come after me, he would’ve had another human skull for his collection.
But he did. As though he could sense I was in trouble, he came in the nick of time—but the only thing I kept thinking during the fight, and after, when Loki showed he has a soft side and let the big beast go.
And that was this: he could have died.
He’s all I have to rely on in this terrifying world, but I also have to admit that I’m fooling myself if I say that’s the only reason why I can’t even fathom him dying killed by that massive shadow beast.
I like him. I have feelings for him that have been able to grow without the added complication of sex. Lord knows we’re already compatible in that department, but he’s treated me so well after kidnapping me that—and I know this smacks of Stockholm Syndrome or something—I can’t help but be drawn to him.
And then he saved me and all I could think about then was getting him into bed.
I remember once reading that adrenaline could be an aphrodisiac. Danger-banging is definitely a thing. If not that, he went after Freya. My little squirrel-cat that means so much to me but is a nuisance to Loki and he didn’t even hesitate.
I had been looking for a reason to let down my guard. To stop this no-sex thing I accidentally started those first days when I honestly didn’t want to reward him taking me. Then I started to get used to living with him, learning him, teaching him, and… yeah. I’ve been dying to fuck him again.
I just never imagined that, when I did, I’d suddenly be able to understand my monster—
No, I correct. He’s not a monster. He’s a demon. A proud Sombran demon.
I already knew we were in Sombra. But Loki’s home is built on the edge of the shadows to be exact and, holy shit, how do I suddenly know all of that?
“Ken-dee?”
“It’s Kennedy,” I snap. It just comes out. “My name is Kenn-uh-dee.”
