2. Scene 2: A Little Horseplay
“By Elbereth! I do believe that you are more beautiful in anger than at any other time.” He bared his teeth slightly, in a predatory smile. “Save perhaps one...”
Her dark eyes flashed at him.
“All fire and mettle like an unbroken filly.” His voice was husky.
“Perhaps you think to try and tame me?” she tossed her head in mock defiance.
With a growl he was on her, provoking a squeal of surprise. She was caught, lifted and pinned to the bed beneath him, all in a single movement.
“Let us see, shall we?” he grinned wolfishly, and before she could retort he sealed her mouth with a fierce kiss.
His body pressed down on her, knees trapping her legs and strong hands pinioning her arms back. In vain she playfully tried to push against him, the movement only causing him to bear down harder. He pushed his tongue deep into her mouth, probing, insistent. It did not take her body long to begin its betrayal, breath quickening, eyes dilating and a slow, familiar fire starting to glow.
She gasped for air as he released her mouth, his lips taking their demands to jaw, neck and ear. The wet heat of his tongue, followed by the nip of teeth caused her to release an involuntary moan of pleasure. He came to her mouth again, softer this time, pressing, persuading. Hungrily, she yielded, but just as she did so he moved away, this time to bite and tease his way to the other ear. She tugged at her arms, but the wrists were held fast, as he continued his crusade of arousal.
Nibbling down her neck, pressing his face against the heat of her pulse, he breathed deeply, scenting her. She sighed and softened to him, her need growing. He returned his hungry mouth to hers, unrelenting in its demand for submission, the heat and hardness of his body reaching her through both layers of clothing. Leaving her breathless and weak, he sat up, straddling her and with great deliberation began to undo the fastenings of her tunic. Reaching the last one, he pulled the front open, then gripping the neck slid it halfway down, trapping her arms at the elbows.
“Now,” he whispered, a wicked smile on his handsome face, “you are at my mercy.”
Her eyes sighed at him from under heavy lids, her lips beckoning - sultry and inviting, her body deliciously helpless.
The sheer cloth of her fine undertunic did nothing to hide her. The soft folds draped over the swell of her breasts, dark areoles clearly visible, the nipples already hard. He took his time over this unfastening, running his hands freely over her between each one, then as the last was loosened he slowly pushed back the material.
Now it was his turn to sigh, as his long fingers took every advantage of her nakedness. Stroking and pressing, teasing and pinching the nipple expertly between finger and thumb. She gasped as he danced her over the line between pleasure and pain, and back again. Then he lowered his melting mouth to kiss and suckle. The lips nuzzling, the tongue roaming, the teeth...oh. She moaned again, trying to lift her hips against him.
He moved one hand downwards, slowly exploring the intimate contours covered by her remaining garment, feeling her response even through the fabric. Teasingly he ran his fine fingers along the inside of her waistband, toying with the closure, then moving on, each time a little lower.
Desperate to speed things up, she arched her back, opening her mouth just enough to give a soft growl of pleasure, and lifted her breasts invitingly towards him. It worked, and he lowered his sensitive mouth to her again. His questing hand deftly freed the fastening, and eased the last piece of clothing partway down over her hips. Now no fabric diffused the fire of his touch, and his invading fingers encountered no barrier. Gently but insistently they worked their delicious persuasion, till she was aching for him.
He leaned over her, the smell of his hair and the taste of his mouth driving her wild. He slid the final inhibition down over her knees, and loosed her so she could kick herself free. Back to her impatient mouth went his lips, teeth and tongue, on to neck, ears, breasts. Then lower still, questing, exploring. Causing her to gasp in surprise and delight at newly discovered pleasure. Gently and slowly he worked, awakening her, filling her, yet carefully keeping her from overflowing.
When she could stand no more, he knelt, and slowly, so slowly, released himself from his clothing. Holding her breath she watched, every movement causing an aching echo of sheer want deep inside her.
“So,” he whispered, his fine hair draping over her, his voice low, as he leaned forward and gently teased her, slowly stroking against her, delaying entry. She reached with her body, lifting to him, wanting, needing, opening, “Here is my wild mare, all submissive.”
“Oh,” she groaned, “I swear, you are the wickedest Elf ever to walk the face of the Earth.”
He laughed throatily, and entered her with a single smooth movement. She clasped her legs about him, pulling him in. He buried his hands in her hair, and covered her mouth with his. Still he set a steady pace, reining in her eagerness to gallop.
“Easy, easy.” He breathed softly in her ear. “Stay with me.”
She matched his rhythm, and they moved together. Slowly at first, then more insistently. Each wave lifting them just a little higher.
“Gil,” he whispered in her ear. But she had no breath for words. Then just before the crest he slowed, toying with her.
“Elrond,” she gasped. “what... are you doing?”
“Just making sure,” he breathed, “that you are properly tamed.”
She flared her nostrils and snatched a breath to reply, but a subtle movement caused a wave of pleasure to swamp her, and she moaned instead.
“Just one word,” his sensuous mouth touched hers, ruffling her body like the wind on dry tinder as it awaited the spark.
“Yes,” she groaned, heavily, greedily, “yes.”
The fire rushed through them both, over and under skin, through bone and muscle, every fibre and finger, crackling, thrumming and sparking with it. Two outrushings of breath as one, heat rippling through their bodies, melting them together. Then gently, softly, fading to a deep glow.
She lay under him, hair damp, eyes limpid, “You shall pay for that, my lord.” She panted, smiling, “I promise you.”
He laughed languidly, and ran a finger tenderly down her cheek, “I shall greatly anticipate the reckoning.”
They smiled together, love sweeping through them, gathering up the last remnants of subsiding desire in a long embrace.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.