Blindfolds and Boldness

The mob of Alphas in the arena comes to life, remembering their own voices and begins protesting this odd turn of events. Since when do Omegas choose their Alphas!? Since when does an Alpha not have to compete for an Omega?! Sensing the impending danger he and his Omega are in, Loki grabs a hold of Aralia. In a flash of green and black wispy smoke they disappear from the Arena.
Aralia gasps at the sudden weightlessness and nausea that overcomes her. She clings to the man she met just seconds before, attempting to keep her breakfast from coming up. The unpleasant sensations only last for a moment, however, and she is able to let go and step back. They are no longer in the Arena but in what appears to be a very VERY large bedroom apartment. Clearly this is someplace within the palace. It is now that she is able to take in the full length of her Alpha’s form. He is beautiful. He also looks very familiar.
Growing up in the poorer part of the city of Asgard, Aralia had seldom seen any members of the royal family up close and personal, except Thor. He had come into her family’s tavern once years ago. She had served him and his friend’s mug after mug of mead. Tavern wench, that’s all they saw. She had been a faceless servant in the crowd for them that night. She realized then that she wanted her life to be more, though she couldn’t really see a way of escaping her social status, unless she married well. This was unlikely also, beautiful though she was, because a marriage to a lowly commoner such as herself would have held no political significance. Noble’s either marry each other or marry royalty, with one specific exception, Omegas. Breeders. Child Bearers. Simultaneously the most coveted and most disrespected members of Aesir society. They have the most fertility and the fewest rights. When you become an Omega, you cease to be seen as a person. No one ever dreams of becoming an Omega, but it did offer up a potentially better future provided she is claimed by the right Alpha. Aralia’s thoughts drift for a few moments until the man in front of her clears his throat and her attentions are brought back to the present. To Prince Loki, who is standing in front of her.
Their current location as well as his pale skin and light frame give him away. The expression on Loki’s face makes Aralia remember she’s in heat. Her dress is still wet from her arousal and Loki eyes are that of man that has been starved of…something. She also notices the significant bulge in the Prince’s trousers. The prince waves his hand and the bedroom and balcony doors swing shut and lock.
A sharp jolt of lightening pleasure radiates from her very core up her spine, leaving a painful throbbing between her legs in desperate need of relief. She feels like she is urinating on herself, but she’s not. It is her desire dripping down her legs now soaking the front of her dress as well.
Loki pounces.
Suddenly she is naked and on the bed. Loki climbs on top her and he is naked as well. He bends down to take her mouth into his, his forearms holding him up and caging her under his body. His tongue begs entry and she opens. She has never been kissed like this before, intimately, passionately. She almost forgets to breathe. She feels Loki shift slightly as he moves one of his hands. She gasps, pulling out of the kiss, eyes rolling into the back of her head as Loki’s fingers find her entrance.
Loki parts her petals and using two of his fingers delves deeply into her. He’s not doing this for her pleasure. He’s checking. Virgin. He suspected as much, if her white dress was any indication. This is going to be very painful for her. She is already slick, gushing fluid. Her opening is wide and accepting. She is at the peak of her heat and must be taken, NOW. Loki arches his hips to position himself at her entrance. With one quick and powerful thrust he breaks her maidenhead and she screams. He stills, letting her cry out from the pain. It was best to pull the bandage off quickly, so to speak. As her whimpers abate, Loki starts to slowly move within her. They rock together gently at first. Loki making slow gentle strokes. Her whimpers of pain slowly turn to moans of pleasure and Loki picks up the pace.
Aralia feels like she’s been split in two. The initial searing pain made her feel like she’d been ripped open, and now she feels his thickness, his hardness, his full length filling her up and stretching her. The ecstasy builds and she suddenly cannot remember where she is or how she got here. She’s in a fog and all that matters is the throbbing, the painful throbbing ache inside of her. She feels her abdomen grow taut and heavy as something builds within her. Loki is riding her hard and fast now, the sound of their coupling making loud undignified slapping sounds as flesh meets flesh with each thrust. Loki feels her insides vibrating. Aralia’s insides clamp down on his length, gushing her release and she screams his name. “ LLLLLOOOOOOOKKKKKIIIIIII!!!!!” Loki hears his name and comes undone, spurting his seed deep inside her, claiming her. SHE IS HIS.
Two servants are walking down the corridor towards the throne room, buckets and brooms in hand. They are gossiping about the conduct of one of their fellow servants after the last feast. Suddenly a voice rings out-crying out Prince Loki’s name. It came from his bed chamber, on the other side of the palace.
He collapses on top of her, panting and breathless. They lay like that for a few moments, before Loki rolls off top of her, then pulling her into him, spooning her from behind. It dawns on Loki in this moment. He just took her virginity and impregnated her, and he doesn’t even know her name. This woman, this total stranger is now bonded to him, and he is responsible for her safety and happiness. Forever. Panic sets in.
Loki gets up from the bed and marches into the bathroom. Bathing himself quickly, he can’t avoid noticing the copious amounts of blood smeared all over his member, abdomen, and thighs. He jumps out and gets dressed. He comes out of the bathroom to see Aralia sitting up in the bed looking at him, doe eyed and uncertain. The pool of blood between her legs on the bed makes her look like a wounded animal. Without a word Loki waves his hand to unlock the bedroom doors, and walks out.

Notes