Page 110 of Thor

"Is this what my princess needs?" he asked, his voice dropping to that deep register that made me liquid inside. His gaze held mine, watching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

"Yes, Daddy," I whispered, the words barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water.

Thor's reaction was immediate and profound. His pupils dilated until only a thin ring of blue remained. The tendons in his neck stood out sharply as he swallowed. His hand tightened slightly on my breast, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

"Christ, Mandy," he growled. "The things you do to me."

His free hand slid behind my neck, drawing me forward until our lips met. The kiss was hungry, demanding, his tongue claiming my mouth with the same careful dominance he showed in everything else. I moaned against his lips, reaching for him, my wet hands clutching at his shoulders.

He broke the kiss, both of us breathing hard. "Stand up," he said, voice rough with restraint.

I rose from the water on shaky legs, liquid cascading down my body in rivulets. Steam rose from my skin in the cooler air. Thor's gaze traveled slowly from my face down my naked body, lingering on my breasts, my stomach, the apex of my thighs. I should have felt exposed, vulnerable. Instead, I felt powerful. Desired. Worship was plain in his eyes.

He reached for one of the heated towels, shaking it open with a snap. With surprising gentleness for such a large man, he wrapped it around me, the warmth enveloping my damp skin. His hands moved over the towel, drying me with firm, efficient strokes that still managed to feel like caresses.

When I was mostly dry, he bent suddenly, one arm behind my back, the other under my knees, lifting me against his chest as if I weighed nothing. I looped my arms around his neck, pressing my face into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him—motor oil, leather, and spice.

He carried me from the bathroom, moving down the hallway. I expected him to turn toward the bedroom, where we'd spent countless nights together. Instead, he paused at a junction in the hallway, seeming to consider something. Then, decisively, he turned the opposite direction.

My heart skipped. That way led to his sanctuary. The first place we’d ever made love.

"Thor?" I questioned, uncertain.

His arms tightened around me. "I have something special prepared," he whispered against my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. "Something for all of you—not just one side."

The promise in those words made me shiver against him. I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Thor understood what even I was just beginning to grasp – that I didn't need to compartmentalize myself anymore. That with him, I could be whole.

The sanctuary had transformed. I stood transfixed in Thor's arms, my damp hair dripping onto his forearm as I tried to process what I was seeing. The reading nook, once a simple cushioned window seat, now sprawled outward in a nest of soft blankets and pillows, large enough for both our bodies. Fairy lights hung in delicate strands from the ceiling beams, their amber glow turning the whole room into something from a dream.

"When did you do all this?" I whispered, scanning the room with wide eyes.

"Been planning it all week." Thor's voice rumbled through his chest against my ear. "Wanted it to be perfect."

My stuffed animals had been rearranged on the shelves lining one wall. No longer scattered haphazardly as I'd left them, they sat in neat rows, like an attentive audience. Mr. Fluffles, my ancient teddy bear, had pride of place in the center. The dollhouse Thor had built me stood open on its table, every tiny piece of furniture aligned with precision.

On the low coffee table, a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries glistened next to an ice bucket holding champagne. Two crystal flutes stood ready. But what caught my eye was a small box wrapped in pink paper, tied with a silver bow.

Thor carried me to the blanket nest and set me down with such gentleness that my chest ached. The towel loosened as I settled against the pillows, falling open to reveal my naked body. I made no move to close it.

"Cold?" Thor asked, misinterpreting my shiver.

"No," I answered honestly. "Just . . . overwhelmed."

He nodded once, understanding. Then he stood, his massive frame backlit by the fairy lights, and began to undress. I watched, breath caught in my throat, as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. The movement revealed the intricate tattoos that covered his broad chest and shoulders.

His hands moved to his belt buckle, unfastening it with deliberate slowness. The leather slid through the loops with a soft hiss that made my stomach clench with anticipation. His jeans followed, pushed down powerful thighs dusted with golden hair. He stepped out of them, now wearing only black boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his arousal.

My mouth went dry. No matter how many times I'd seen Thor's body, it still stunned me. The sheer size of him, the controlled power in every movement. His muscles weren't for show; they were functional, earned through work and battle. Scars marked his skin alongside the tattoos, telling different chapters of the same story.

Thor stood before me, nearly naked, yet it was the vulnerability in his eyes that made my heart race. "May I join you?" he asked, formal in a way that told me this moment mattered deeply to him.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. He lowered himself onto the blankets beside me, careful not to crush me with his weight. We lay facing each other, my towel now completely open between us, his hand hesitantly resting on my waist.

"The box," I said suddenly, remembering the pink package. "Is that for me?"

A rare flash of uncertainty crossed Thor's face. "Yeah. If you want it."

Curiosity pulled me upright. I reached for the package, the silver bow catching the amber light. The box was small, fitting easily in my palm. I glanced at Thor, finding him uncharacteristically tense, watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

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