You are mine to use. Good boy. Perfectly disrespectful. Alan wants to bite something. The only thing close would be his own wrist or the bedclothes themselves -- and the urge disappears as quickly as it came on when Loki picks up his pace again. There's no room in him for the spite and the pleasure and the surrender all at once.

Surrender wins. He does cry out, and louder, his moans mingling with the slap of skin.