A Promise Kept, Part 2 (NC-17)
Jan. 20th, 2005 09:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
horseboykarlThéodred: There's a bowl of fruit on the table in the centre of the kitchen and we both grab an apple to munch on. I can see you hesitate, and kiss your bare shoulder as I go to investigate. It is not too different from Paris' kitchen, or the one I once watched Dave cook in through Paris' eyes. A quick search, and we have bread and good salty butter on the table, as well as the fruit.
Opening the fridge, I am pleased to find cold bottles of ale, and what turns out to be cheese, and add them to our haul as you find knives and open the bottles. There is also a slab of raw meat on a plate and more rummaging reveals some of the brown skinned globes I have seen Dave cut up and cook with his meat. For some reason, Paris prefers not to eat meat, but I'm sure one meal won't hurt this body.
I put the globes down on the table, remembering how Dave prepared them. "Take off the brown skin, and cut them into small pieces. Oh, and be careful, they will make you cry!" You look at me with disbelief, and I laugh to myself as I grab the meat, and hope that Karl's cooking stove is similar to Paris' or Dave's.
Éomer: I'm relieved to see that you seem to know what you are doing in this strange kitchen. I can escape from Karl's hold so infrequently that food is usually the last thing I am thinking about. This time that you have obtained for us to have together is rewarding in more ways than I dreamed. I am so glad to be here without having to fight Karl to get through, glad to have a time of peace away from my responsibilities. Glad that I can be with you in this place of safety.
I walk over to where you are dealing with the meat and wrap my arms around you, resting my cheek on your smooth back. "Thank you," I whisper and place a kiss at the top of your spine.
Then I turn away to deal with my enemy, the vegetable that will make me cry. But I am armed, I think as I pick up the knife. They will not get the better of me. The brown layer comes off easily and I slice into the white meat below.
The scent of this root suddenly envelopes me and my eyes are burning, painful and welling with tears. I drop the knife and pull my towel off, scrubbing at my eyes. "By the Valar, Théo, are you trying to kill me? Surely we are not meant to eat these things!"
You laugh as I glare at you accusingly.
Théodred: When your arms go around me, I know you are not thanking me for the food, and my fingers touch yours, eyes closing for a second as I feel your kiss on my back, and then you are off to tame vegetables. I do not care what it takes, I will not let you be imprisoned by Karl. There has to be a way, I cannot lose what I have found here.
I push those thoughts away, determined they will not overshadow our time together, and concentrate on finding the thing that clicks and produces a flame on the stove. There is oil in a bottle nearby, and a large skillet hanging close, so it seems like this will be a straight forward process …
Then you yell behind me, and I cannot keep my amusement hidden. "Apparently, they are worth it." I say with a grin as you stare at me. "Are you telling me that a mere vegetable has defeated one of Rohan's finest?" I tease, brushing away a tear as you give me a pained look. "And if you do not put that towel back on, we will never get around to eating." Picking up the knife and holding my breath, I quickly finish chopping the roots and throw them in the pan followed by the meat. Leaving it to its own devices, I cut the bread, spread it with butter, and hand you a slice as a peace
offering.
Éomer: I wrap the sheet around myself again, muttering under my breath about the sneakiness of Second Marshals and older cousins in general. Your offering of bread cuts off my tirade, but I am still suspicious.
I find plates and silver and put them on the table, just as you finish what you were doing with the meat. You divide our portions evenly, giving us both plenty of the roots. I watch until I see you eat one before I try it. I put it in my mouth tentatively with a bit of meat. It is delicious!
"All right, you can cook, I will grant you that, along with your other . . . talents." I leer at you and then concentrate on finishing my plate, wondering when you are gong to 'put me through my paces' again. My lust for you has quite surprised me, it seems that the more I have you, the more I want you. No one has ever affected me the way you do. I sit in silence and watch you finish your meal.
Théodred: I try hard to keep from grinning as you tentatively try your food after waiting until I have tasted it first, but seeing your face turn from distrust to delight does make me smile. Finishing my meat, I would have to be blind to miss the lusty glint in your eye as you watch me and heat pools in my belly. How do you do this to me? Have me craving the feel of your skin every second we are together?
Carrying my plate over to the bench, you follow me with yours, and when your hands are empty my hands slip onto your waist and I kiss you softly, tongue flicking out over your lips.
"I suppose it would be too much to ask for Karl to have a bed covered in furs that I could lay you down on and rub all over your skin until it is hot and glowing and aching for my touch?" An image of you spread-eagled on my bed in Meduseld makes me moan against your lips.
Éomer: I open my mouth wanting more of your tongue, your moan bringing an answering desire flickering through me like summer lightening, tightening things in my body, my nipples, my groin, my lungs. My hands slide over your back, kneading the strong muscles I find there, and I want to cling to you while you take us both over the edge.
"Karl has a bed," I murmur into your mouth, my tongue testing the flavors of you. "No furs."
I lean back against the bench, pulling you with me, resting your weight against mine, needing to feel you pressing on me. Feeling your hardness pushing into me brings a moan of my own. I slide my arm around your waist bringing you to your toes, matching our heights. My other hand fists in your hair, pulling your head back, my tongue delving deeper into the heat of your mouth.
My breath is ragged when you break the kiss. "I'm already aching for your touch." I wrap my arm around your shoulders. "It's this way."
Théodred: Wrenching myself away with a gasp, I am glad when you lead me to Karl's bed chamber, determined this time will on something a little softer than a wooden floor.
"No furs? Pity." But I doubt you hear my words as your hands are on me as soon as we are through the door, towels discarded and forgotten, your hard kisses pushing me back until my legs hit the side of the bed, and I fall backwards, pulling you with me. I am thankful that this is a sturdy bed as we land on it, your hands catching most of your weight, hips grinding into mine, a curtain of hair hanging down around my face.
My fingers tangle in it as my mouth latches onto yours, plunging my tongue deep, and you suckle on it so hard it has me thrusting my erection against yours in long strokes, groaning at the feel of your hard silky flesh pulsing against mine. Then you are moving down my body, trailing hot kisses over my shoulder, your mouth latching onto the ring, a savage bite making me cry out and arch off the bed.
Panting as your attentions soften with laps of your tongue, I tighten my hands in your hair and pull your head back slowly so I can see your eyes, holding you firm so that only the tip of your tongue can reach the tender flesh as you strain for more contact. "I want you pierced, want you to know how this feels." I relax my hold a little and sigh as your tongue darts out, fleshy and wet, feeling soothing and sharp all at the same time, and my head falls back against the bed. "You have to know how it feels."
Éomer: Your suggestion has the blood pounding in my head. You want me pierced, like you are, you want to mark me, to claim me even further as yours. I do not know if you see it in the same way as I do, if it means the same thing to you, but I do not care. I raise my head, my eyes dark and wild, meeting yours. I nod shakily, "I would like that."
And I lower my head again, my lips and tongue more gentle, but still pushing the nub around firmly, sucking it in, putting pressure on it. You are bucking under me, your hands in my hair tightening again, and I am moaning at your responses. I leave that side to go to your other, neglected, nipple, my hand drifting down your torso, pulling your leg to the side so that I can settle comfortably between your thighs, catching your cock between us, and pushing down on it with my abdomen. I use my teeth again, gnawing gently on you, trying to hold back from biting and clawing you, making my marks on you.
I trace my tongue across the ridges of muscle, sliding down you, tasting every inch of you, my hands coming up to pinch your nipples as I move lower. The head of your cock tangles in my hair as I reach the place where your thigh meets your torso, and I run my tongue slowly along the crease of skin, pushing your legs farther apart. At last, I lift my head, one hand holding your cock, as I look at it, memorizing its contours. I put my tongue out and give you one long slow swipe from root to tip, swirling around your slit, tasting your delicious fluid already leaking.
I look at you, meeting your eyes, hazy with desire. "What do you want, Théo?"
Théodred: My heart leaps at your enthusiasm at having a ring like this, eyes meeting yours before you begin to devour me, and rational thought is washed away at the touch of your mouth, your hands …
Then you ask me what I want and I smile down at you. You are breathing on my cock, and you tease me by asking what I want? But I do want more. "I want to feel your tongue on me …" Another long lick, and your eyes are back on mine. "I want to feel your lips …" You push your mouth down on me, easing the head between your lips, and my fingers clench in your hair as I groan, and I know if you keep this up, I will lose all control. "I want to taste you too." You look at me quizzically for a moment, before you realise what I mean.
"Turn around Mer, give me what I want." You move so you are kneeling over me, your knees touching my shoulders, and I tilt my head back, reaching for your erection and guiding it into my mouth. You let out a hiss as my tongue swirls around your shaft, then lower your mouth to me, hot and soft as you sink lower, my back arching, your cock
slipping further down my throat as your tongue laps at me, your hand moving over my sac as mine reach round your hips, digging into your buttocks, pulling you closer, deeper.
I slip two fingers into my mouth alongside your cock briefly pulling off you, nails grazing lightly over the head, and reach round with them, stroking your entrance with spit soaked fingers, pushing against it, easing in a little. Then you push down on me, your throat tight, and I push my fingers into you, swallowing around your cock as I feel you groan around mine.
Éomer: I wrap my arms around your thighs, shoving you into my mouth, my tongue wrapping around you, my mouth closing over you. I try to hold myself up so you can get to me without me crushing you. The feelings of this are driving me wild and when you enter me with your fingers, I nearly leap off the bed. Your cock is down my throat filling me with your taste, mine is prisoner in your mouth, your heat and wicked tongue doing unbelievable things to me, my entrance breached by your fingers, stretching me, filling me, and I cannot get enough of any of this.
I am growling steadily around you, but I refuse to release the prize between my lips long enough to warn you, as you finally drive me to my climax. The pleasure nearly swamps me, but I try to be careful with you, pushing you into my mouth as far as you will go, bucking against you as all my muscles contract.
I get control of myself and redouble my efforts on you, my tongue flashing everywhere, my lips creating suction as I slide my mouth on you. You moan my name and my mouth is full of your sweet come, and I hold you through your own tremors, drinking you down.
I roll over at last, nuzzling my lips along your leg.
Théodred: Tasting you, and having your mouth on me at the same time is driving me wild and when you come undone, seed flooding my mouth, I know I am not going to be far behind you. My orgasm crashes through me, and I am grateful for your arms holding me until my trembling eases.
Utterly spent I lie still for a moment while I get my breath back, my fingers stroking your calf. This is somewhere I could lie for hours, on a soft bed with you in my arms, and that is exactly what I intend to do. Moving round, I lie back against the pillows, and you join me, settling in the crook of my arm, your head on my chest. I let out a sigh at the feel of your warm skin against mine. One arm slips round you, my other hand finding yours and closing around your fingers.
"I wish …" But what is the use of wishing for what can never be? "I miss you when we're apart." I close my eyes and bury my face in the soft strands of your hair, drinking in the scent of you, knowing it will soon be taken from me. "I miss you."
Éomer: I settle into the comfort of your embrace, your arms around me, our hands entwined, and I throw my leg over yours, trying to get as close to you as is possible. This feeling, too, is one that will stay with me forever. And then I understand Karl's insistence that this is not real. It does not seem possible that we two could be here together, in this way.
I bring our hands to my lips, brushing my mouth over your knuckles. "I waited so long for you to see me as a man, and then, the night you got me my first woman, I knew that I had grown up in your eyes at last. And . . . then I waited for you to call me to your bed, as you had so many before, but you never did." You make a sound of protest, which I still with our hands. "No, I understand. It took me a long time, but I finally saw what you must have known, that it was impossible for us. And especially last year, when you gave me my father's old command, I understood the burdens of leadership, what you have been facing all this time."
I bury my nose in your chest, inhaling the reassuring scent of you. "When you told me that first night here, that you craved my touch, I was overwhelmed, it was everything I had ever hoped for."
I squirm closer to you. "To be here, with you, like this, is a gift beyond price. And I miss you too, but if this night stolen out of another's life is all we ever have, then the memory of it will keep me warm for the rest of my life."
Théodred: I watch you as you talk, feeling a heart wrenching pang of regret that I had disappointed you, even though I knew it had to be. Tonight certainly seems like a good night for truths, for both of us. My hand tightens on yours, needing your strength to talk of something I have kept deep in my heart for so long.
"When I returned from Helm's Deep to find you suddenly grown, no longer the boy I had thought of for so long as my brother, my joy, my pride at finding a man in his place was edged with sorrow. Sorrow that you could never be mine for so many reasons; because of who we are, because of the responsibility I felt. I would watch you leave the hall with another conquest, wondering what it would be like to feel your hands on me, taste your mouth, learn the secrets to making you cry out … but I knew it would never be. "
"I have had no shortage of partners, that you know, and I have taken pleasure in all of them, but on the few occasions I slept alone, in the dark of night when my hand would stray to my cock, it was your face that would come to me, the imagined feel of your fingers ghosting over my skin that would bring me to completion … and now this world
has given me the one person I truly wanted. You."
Then your final words stun me into momentary silence. I push your hair back from your face, kissing your lips softly, never taking my eyes from yours. "We will have more than this, my stallion … my love. That I promise you." Pulling you close, I wrap my arms around you, your head resting on my shoulder, and simply hold you for a while.
"I gave you your command?" I pull back to smile at you. "There was never any doubt in my mind that you deserved it, even though in the time I come from, you are but 22 years old."
Éomer: I smile at you in return, "I am still not terribly old, twenty-seven, and it was last year that you made me Third Marshal, the youngest ever." I let the pride that I felt then slip into my voice, trying not to think of the desperate necessity that led to it, that your father had all but abdicated the defense of the Riddermark, you finding yourself with the responsibilities of two men and your struggle to protect our people without any real authority to do so. But I let my eyes show the love and respect that I felt for you, for doing what a lesser man could not have done.
We lie quietly for a time, and I let my fingers wander over you, tracing the sturdy bones beneath your skin, learning the different textures of you. My body is relaxed and I am pleasantly tired, but I think on your words of how you imagined my touch in the dark of night, and the image is unbearably erotic and the tone of my touches changes.
I raise up on my elbow and trail my lips along the paths that my fingers have taken, softly raking along your collar bone, nuzzling your shoulder, picking your arm up, covering every inch of it with my lips and tongue. I take each of your fingers into my mouth, twining my tongue around, tasting you, sucking on each. You lay silently under my treatment, but your breathing has gotten heavier.
I lay back down on my side and pull you to face me, my eyes meeting yours. "Please, Théo, claim me again, make me yours again." I brush my lips against yours and then stay there, just barely touching. "I love you and I want to belong to you."
Théodred: You love me. I know what I have seen shining from your eyes when we are together, but to hear you say it makes my heart soar. And your attentions are rousing me, again.
My fingers trace the muscles of your arm, feeling the firm strength of them, moving down over your elbow into the softer skin of your waist, circling your hip, which has you biting your bottom lip. They travel further, over the taut swell of your buttock, the curve beneath it, then up again, lightly over your back, the plane of your shoulder blade, the sweet soft skin of your neck, finally playing through your hair. My lips are soft against yours, a slow, tender kiss, a contrast to the storm that we began our day with.
Pushing you down on your back, I kneel between your legs looking down at you stretched out and waiting for my touch. "Has anyone ever told you that you are insatiable, Mer?" Your grin turns to laughter, and I grab the tube I spotted on Karl's bedside table earlier, and coat my renewed hardness with it, yours already standing proud below me. "Lie still." With a wicked grin, my hand slips over my cock, slowly working it and your eyes are drawn downwards. "In the dead of night, I would think about you lying before me, just as you are now." I let my thumb graze the head, and gasp.
"Your arms would be stretched above you, soft leather round your wrists, tying you down." You swallow and your eyes widen, moving from my face to my cock and back again. My voice is husky as my hand continues to move. "Next time we meet, would you let me tie you down?" You nod slowly, and I lean forward, stroking my oiled erection over your entrance, ducking my head down to kiss you. "Relax for me Mer." As I slowly push in, you let out a shuddering breath, and I slip inside your tight warmth, sighing against your neck before beginning to move.
Éomer: I have never known that words could be so sensual, that you could have me trembling and aching for you without your touch, with your voice alone, painting pictures for me of what you will do to me.
My body grows more comfortable doing this every time, and the long slow slide of you into me brings nothing but pleasure shooting out from where we are joined. Your weight rests against me for a moment, pressing me into the mattress, and this is what I wanted. You filling me, you on top of me, you claiming me.
When you begin to move, I pull my knees up, urging you to go deeper, to take whatever you want from me. I rest my hands on your buttocks, trying to restrain myself from pushing on you, being content to feel your muscles flexing as you thrust into me.
I keep my eyes open, watching you as you ride me, my breath hitching as you speed up, hitting me in that place that sends stars shooting across my sight, unable to stop the moans that the pleasure is ripping from me.
Théodred: Bracing myself on one arm, I reach round, take your hand and wrap it around your cock, my voice hoarse, so very nearly there. "Come for me." With both hands once again holding me up, I slam into you, harder, deeper, your groans turning to cries and your body jerks, tightening impossibly around me, and I come as your seed spurts onto your chest, your head thrown back, but your eyes never leave me as my own completion shudders through me. "I'm yours Mer, always yours, always …"
And then I have nothing left to give. My arms stay braced as the tremors cease, as your hands running up them, and I use the last remaining remnant of strength to pull out of you while you clean your chest. Collapsing on the bed, nestling against your chest, burying my face in your long hair, I push my body against yours, needing your skin against mine, and your arms wrap around me and hold me close. No-one has ever been able to make me feel like this, no-one has ever been able to take everything that I have, leave me sated and exhausted and yet still wanting more.
Éomer: I pull you into me, my arms wrapping around you, fishing for the blankets with my feet, and finally getting the sheet over us. We fit together easily, as though we have done this a thousand times before. My eyes are drooping, staring out the window at the slowly lightning sky. I smile, lazy and contented, this night has been one that I will not forget, even if we do have others as you promised.
But I do not want to leave in my sleep, without saying goodbye. "Théo, I am tired, perhaps I am not insatiable," I smile. "Or perhaps you are the only one capable of exhausting me. Will you wake me before I must leave?"
Théodred: I chuckle at the way our thoughts are so similar, and hold you closer. "I will wake you." I murmur against your chest. It would seem that even in our sleep, we cannot get enough of the feel of each other. I make sure I doze so we do not sleep too long and we merge together, limbs tangling, moving as one when we turn so you are draped around my back, your arm holding me possessively close, your face pressed against my neck and I let out a contented sigh.
I sensed earlier there are things about your time that you keep from me, and I have to wonder how prudent it would be to learn of the future. If I knew what was to come, would it colour choices I have, from your perspective, already made? This is something I must think on.
All too soon, it is time, and I reach back, and run my fingers through your hair wanting to stay within your embrace for as long as possible. "Time to wake, my stallion, time to go." You groan against my neck, and tighten your arm around me as I smile. "I need you to give Karl another seven days, but this time, he will call for you at some point before then, and you must speak with him. Talk to him, Mer, reassure him." I turn a little, and your lips graze my jaw. "Someday soon, when they come to accept us, there will be no need for bargains and negotiations."
Éomer: I sigh, sadness overwhelming me, I do not want to leave you, but I know that I must, for Karl and for the people I have left behind. The thought that Karl may one day accept me is too much to ask for.
"Goodbye, Théo, I will do as you ask." I bury my nose in your neck. "Time will go slowly for me until I can see you again."
You get out of bed, but my mind is tired and I am soon able to drift off again, fading away with you the last thing I see.
Théodred: "Goodbye Mer. I will be waiting for you." As you fall back to sleep, I brush the hair from your face, watching with regret as moments later, it changes from blonde to dark, features shifting, and you are gone. I sit and watch Karl sleep for a while. His face is relaxed, very different from when I came upon him but a week ago. Both of you are already benefitting from these bargains, and I can only hope that your conversation goes well.
I ease myself off the bed, not wanting to wake Karl just yet, and stand by the window looking down over the trees, my mind a world away.
NC-17
Opening the fridge, I am pleased to find cold bottles of ale, and what turns out to be cheese, and add them to our haul as you find knives and open the bottles. There is also a slab of raw meat on a plate and more rummaging reveals some of the brown skinned globes I have seen Dave cut up and cook with his meat. For some reason, Paris prefers not to eat meat, but I'm sure one meal won't hurt this body.
I put the globes down on the table, remembering how Dave prepared them. "Take off the brown skin, and cut them into small pieces. Oh, and be careful, they will make you cry!" You look at me with disbelief, and I laugh to myself as I grab the meat, and hope that Karl's cooking stove is similar to Paris' or Dave's.
Éomer: I'm relieved to see that you seem to know what you are doing in this strange kitchen. I can escape from Karl's hold so infrequently that food is usually the last thing I am thinking about. This time that you have obtained for us to have together is rewarding in more ways than I dreamed. I am so glad to be here without having to fight Karl to get through, glad to have a time of peace away from my responsibilities. Glad that I can be with you in this place of safety.
I walk over to where you are dealing with the meat and wrap my arms around you, resting my cheek on your smooth back. "Thank you," I whisper and place a kiss at the top of your spine.
Then I turn away to deal with my enemy, the vegetable that will make me cry. But I am armed, I think as I pick up the knife. They will not get the better of me. The brown layer comes off easily and I slice into the white meat below.
The scent of this root suddenly envelopes me and my eyes are burning, painful and welling with tears. I drop the knife and pull my towel off, scrubbing at my eyes. "By the Valar, Théo, are you trying to kill me? Surely we are not meant to eat these things!"
You laugh as I glare at you accusingly.
Théodred: When your arms go around me, I know you are not thanking me for the food, and my fingers touch yours, eyes closing for a second as I feel your kiss on my back, and then you are off to tame vegetables. I do not care what it takes, I will not let you be imprisoned by Karl. There has to be a way, I cannot lose what I have found here.
I push those thoughts away, determined they will not overshadow our time together, and concentrate on finding the thing that clicks and produces a flame on the stove. There is oil in a bottle nearby, and a large skillet hanging close, so it seems like this will be a straight forward process …
Then you yell behind me, and I cannot keep my amusement hidden. "Apparently, they are worth it." I say with a grin as you stare at me. "Are you telling me that a mere vegetable has defeated one of Rohan's finest?" I tease, brushing away a tear as you give me a pained look. "And if you do not put that towel back on, we will never get around to eating." Picking up the knife and holding my breath, I quickly finish chopping the roots and throw them in the pan followed by the meat. Leaving it to its own devices, I cut the bread, spread it with butter, and hand you a slice as a peace
offering.
Éomer: I wrap the sheet around myself again, muttering under my breath about the sneakiness of Second Marshals and older cousins in general. Your offering of bread cuts off my tirade, but I am still suspicious.
I find plates and silver and put them on the table, just as you finish what you were doing with the meat. You divide our portions evenly, giving us both plenty of the roots. I watch until I see you eat one before I try it. I put it in my mouth tentatively with a bit of meat. It is delicious!
"All right, you can cook, I will grant you that, along with your other . . . talents." I leer at you and then concentrate on finishing my plate, wondering when you are gong to 'put me through my paces' again. My lust for you has quite surprised me, it seems that the more I have you, the more I want you. No one has ever affected me the way you do. I sit in silence and watch you finish your meal.
Théodred: I try hard to keep from grinning as you tentatively try your food after waiting until I have tasted it first, but seeing your face turn from distrust to delight does make me smile. Finishing my meat, I would have to be blind to miss the lusty glint in your eye as you watch me and heat pools in my belly. How do you do this to me? Have me craving the feel of your skin every second we are together?
Carrying my plate over to the bench, you follow me with yours, and when your hands are empty my hands slip onto your waist and I kiss you softly, tongue flicking out over your lips.
"I suppose it would be too much to ask for Karl to have a bed covered in furs that I could lay you down on and rub all over your skin until it is hot and glowing and aching for my touch?" An image of you spread-eagled on my bed in Meduseld makes me moan against your lips.
Éomer: I open my mouth wanting more of your tongue, your moan bringing an answering desire flickering through me like summer lightening, tightening things in my body, my nipples, my groin, my lungs. My hands slide over your back, kneading the strong muscles I find there, and I want to cling to you while you take us both over the edge.
"Karl has a bed," I murmur into your mouth, my tongue testing the flavors of you. "No furs."
I lean back against the bench, pulling you with me, resting your weight against mine, needing to feel you pressing on me. Feeling your hardness pushing into me brings a moan of my own. I slide my arm around your waist bringing you to your toes, matching our heights. My other hand fists in your hair, pulling your head back, my tongue delving deeper into the heat of your mouth.
My breath is ragged when you break the kiss. "I'm already aching for your touch." I wrap my arm around your shoulders. "It's this way."
Théodred: Wrenching myself away with a gasp, I am glad when you lead me to Karl's bed chamber, determined this time will on something a little softer than a wooden floor.
"No furs? Pity." But I doubt you hear my words as your hands are on me as soon as we are through the door, towels discarded and forgotten, your hard kisses pushing me back until my legs hit the side of the bed, and I fall backwards, pulling you with me. I am thankful that this is a sturdy bed as we land on it, your hands catching most of your weight, hips grinding into mine, a curtain of hair hanging down around my face.
My fingers tangle in it as my mouth latches onto yours, plunging my tongue deep, and you suckle on it so hard it has me thrusting my erection against yours in long strokes, groaning at the feel of your hard silky flesh pulsing against mine. Then you are moving down my body, trailing hot kisses over my shoulder, your mouth latching onto the ring, a savage bite making me cry out and arch off the bed.
Panting as your attentions soften with laps of your tongue, I tighten my hands in your hair and pull your head back slowly so I can see your eyes, holding you firm so that only the tip of your tongue can reach the tender flesh as you strain for more contact. "I want you pierced, want you to know how this feels." I relax my hold a little and sigh as your tongue darts out, fleshy and wet, feeling soothing and sharp all at the same time, and my head falls back against the bed. "You have to know how it feels."
Éomer: Your suggestion has the blood pounding in my head. You want me pierced, like you are, you want to mark me, to claim me even further as yours. I do not know if you see it in the same way as I do, if it means the same thing to you, but I do not care. I raise my head, my eyes dark and wild, meeting yours. I nod shakily, "I would like that."
And I lower my head again, my lips and tongue more gentle, but still pushing the nub around firmly, sucking it in, putting pressure on it. You are bucking under me, your hands in my hair tightening again, and I am moaning at your responses. I leave that side to go to your other, neglected, nipple, my hand drifting down your torso, pulling your leg to the side so that I can settle comfortably between your thighs, catching your cock between us, and pushing down on it with my abdomen. I use my teeth again, gnawing gently on you, trying to hold back from biting and clawing you, making my marks on you.
I trace my tongue across the ridges of muscle, sliding down you, tasting every inch of you, my hands coming up to pinch your nipples as I move lower. The head of your cock tangles in my hair as I reach the place where your thigh meets your torso, and I run my tongue slowly along the crease of skin, pushing your legs farther apart. At last, I lift my head, one hand holding your cock, as I look at it, memorizing its contours. I put my tongue out and give you one long slow swipe from root to tip, swirling around your slit, tasting your delicious fluid already leaking.
I look at you, meeting your eyes, hazy with desire. "What do you want, Théo?"
Théodred: My heart leaps at your enthusiasm at having a ring like this, eyes meeting yours before you begin to devour me, and rational thought is washed away at the touch of your mouth, your hands …
Then you ask me what I want and I smile down at you. You are breathing on my cock, and you tease me by asking what I want? But I do want more. "I want to feel your tongue on me …" Another long lick, and your eyes are back on mine. "I want to feel your lips …" You push your mouth down on me, easing the head between your lips, and my fingers clench in your hair as I groan, and I know if you keep this up, I will lose all control. "I want to taste you too." You look at me quizzically for a moment, before you realise what I mean.
"Turn around Mer, give me what I want." You move so you are kneeling over me, your knees touching my shoulders, and I tilt my head back, reaching for your erection and guiding it into my mouth. You let out a hiss as my tongue swirls around your shaft, then lower your mouth to me, hot and soft as you sink lower, my back arching, your cock
slipping further down my throat as your tongue laps at me, your hand moving over my sac as mine reach round your hips, digging into your buttocks, pulling you closer, deeper.
I slip two fingers into my mouth alongside your cock briefly pulling off you, nails grazing lightly over the head, and reach round with them, stroking your entrance with spit soaked fingers, pushing against it, easing in a little. Then you push down on me, your throat tight, and I push my fingers into you, swallowing around your cock as I feel you groan around mine.
Éomer: I wrap my arms around your thighs, shoving you into my mouth, my tongue wrapping around you, my mouth closing over you. I try to hold myself up so you can get to me without me crushing you. The feelings of this are driving me wild and when you enter me with your fingers, I nearly leap off the bed. Your cock is down my throat filling me with your taste, mine is prisoner in your mouth, your heat and wicked tongue doing unbelievable things to me, my entrance breached by your fingers, stretching me, filling me, and I cannot get enough of any of this.
I am growling steadily around you, but I refuse to release the prize between my lips long enough to warn you, as you finally drive me to my climax. The pleasure nearly swamps me, but I try to be careful with you, pushing you into my mouth as far as you will go, bucking against you as all my muscles contract.
I get control of myself and redouble my efforts on you, my tongue flashing everywhere, my lips creating suction as I slide my mouth on you. You moan my name and my mouth is full of your sweet come, and I hold you through your own tremors, drinking you down.
I roll over at last, nuzzling my lips along your leg.
Théodred: Tasting you, and having your mouth on me at the same time is driving me wild and when you come undone, seed flooding my mouth, I know I am not going to be far behind you. My orgasm crashes through me, and I am grateful for your arms holding me until my trembling eases.
Utterly spent I lie still for a moment while I get my breath back, my fingers stroking your calf. This is somewhere I could lie for hours, on a soft bed with you in my arms, and that is exactly what I intend to do. Moving round, I lie back against the pillows, and you join me, settling in the crook of my arm, your head on my chest. I let out a sigh at the feel of your warm skin against mine. One arm slips round you, my other hand finding yours and closing around your fingers.
"I wish …" But what is the use of wishing for what can never be? "I miss you when we're apart." I close my eyes and bury my face in the soft strands of your hair, drinking in the scent of you, knowing it will soon be taken from me. "I miss you."
Éomer: I settle into the comfort of your embrace, your arms around me, our hands entwined, and I throw my leg over yours, trying to get as close to you as is possible. This feeling, too, is one that will stay with me forever. And then I understand Karl's insistence that this is not real. It does not seem possible that we two could be here together, in this way.
I bring our hands to my lips, brushing my mouth over your knuckles. "I waited so long for you to see me as a man, and then, the night you got me my first woman, I knew that I had grown up in your eyes at last. And . . . then I waited for you to call me to your bed, as you had so many before, but you never did." You make a sound of protest, which I still with our hands. "No, I understand. It took me a long time, but I finally saw what you must have known, that it was impossible for us. And especially last year, when you gave me my father's old command, I understood the burdens of leadership, what you have been facing all this time."
I bury my nose in your chest, inhaling the reassuring scent of you. "When you told me that first night here, that you craved my touch, I was overwhelmed, it was everything I had ever hoped for."
I squirm closer to you. "To be here, with you, like this, is a gift beyond price. And I miss you too, but if this night stolen out of another's life is all we ever have, then the memory of it will keep me warm for the rest of my life."
Théodred: I watch you as you talk, feeling a heart wrenching pang of regret that I had disappointed you, even though I knew it had to be. Tonight certainly seems like a good night for truths, for both of us. My hand tightens on yours, needing your strength to talk of something I have kept deep in my heart for so long.
"When I returned from Helm's Deep to find you suddenly grown, no longer the boy I had thought of for so long as my brother, my joy, my pride at finding a man in his place was edged with sorrow. Sorrow that you could never be mine for so many reasons; because of who we are, because of the responsibility I felt. I would watch you leave the hall with another conquest, wondering what it would be like to feel your hands on me, taste your mouth, learn the secrets to making you cry out … but I knew it would never be. "
"I have had no shortage of partners, that you know, and I have taken pleasure in all of them, but on the few occasions I slept alone, in the dark of night when my hand would stray to my cock, it was your face that would come to me, the imagined feel of your fingers ghosting over my skin that would bring me to completion … and now this world
has given me the one person I truly wanted. You."
Then your final words stun me into momentary silence. I push your hair back from your face, kissing your lips softly, never taking my eyes from yours. "We will have more than this, my stallion … my love. That I promise you." Pulling you close, I wrap my arms around you, your head resting on my shoulder, and simply hold you for a while.
"I gave you your command?" I pull back to smile at you. "There was never any doubt in my mind that you deserved it, even though in the time I come from, you are but 22 years old."
Éomer: I smile at you in return, "I am still not terribly old, twenty-seven, and it was last year that you made me Third Marshal, the youngest ever." I let the pride that I felt then slip into my voice, trying not to think of the desperate necessity that led to it, that your father had all but abdicated the defense of the Riddermark, you finding yourself with the responsibilities of two men and your struggle to protect our people without any real authority to do so. But I let my eyes show the love and respect that I felt for you, for doing what a lesser man could not have done.
We lie quietly for a time, and I let my fingers wander over you, tracing the sturdy bones beneath your skin, learning the different textures of you. My body is relaxed and I am pleasantly tired, but I think on your words of how you imagined my touch in the dark of night, and the image is unbearably erotic and the tone of my touches changes.
I raise up on my elbow and trail my lips along the paths that my fingers have taken, softly raking along your collar bone, nuzzling your shoulder, picking your arm up, covering every inch of it with my lips and tongue. I take each of your fingers into my mouth, twining my tongue around, tasting you, sucking on each. You lay silently under my treatment, but your breathing has gotten heavier.
I lay back down on my side and pull you to face me, my eyes meeting yours. "Please, Théo, claim me again, make me yours again." I brush my lips against yours and then stay there, just barely touching. "I love you and I want to belong to you."
Théodred: You love me. I know what I have seen shining from your eyes when we are together, but to hear you say it makes my heart soar. And your attentions are rousing me, again.
My fingers trace the muscles of your arm, feeling the firm strength of them, moving down over your elbow into the softer skin of your waist, circling your hip, which has you biting your bottom lip. They travel further, over the taut swell of your buttock, the curve beneath it, then up again, lightly over your back, the plane of your shoulder blade, the sweet soft skin of your neck, finally playing through your hair. My lips are soft against yours, a slow, tender kiss, a contrast to the storm that we began our day with.
Pushing you down on your back, I kneel between your legs looking down at you stretched out and waiting for my touch. "Has anyone ever told you that you are insatiable, Mer?" Your grin turns to laughter, and I grab the tube I spotted on Karl's bedside table earlier, and coat my renewed hardness with it, yours already standing proud below me. "Lie still." With a wicked grin, my hand slips over my cock, slowly working it and your eyes are drawn downwards. "In the dead of night, I would think about you lying before me, just as you are now." I let my thumb graze the head, and gasp.
"Your arms would be stretched above you, soft leather round your wrists, tying you down." You swallow and your eyes widen, moving from my face to my cock and back again. My voice is husky as my hand continues to move. "Next time we meet, would you let me tie you down?" You nod slowly, and I lean forward, stroking my oiled erection over your entrance, ducking my head down to kiss you. "Relax for me Mer." As I slowly push in, you let out a shuddering breath, and I slip inside your tight warmth, sighing against your neck before beginning to move.
Éomer: I have never known that words could be so sensual, that you could have me trembling and aching for you without your touch, with your voice alone, painting pictures for me of what you will do to me.
My body grows more comfortable doing this every time, and the long slow slide of you into me brings nothing but pleasure shooting out from where we are joined. Your weight rests against me for a moment, pressing me into the mattress, and this is what I wanted. You filling me, you on top of me, you claiming me.
When you begin to move, I pull my knees up, urging you to go deeper, to take whatever you want from me. I rest my hands on your buttocks, trying to restrain myself from pushing on you, being content to feel your muscles flexing as you thrust into me.
I keep my eyes open, watching you as you ride me, my breath hitching as you speed up, hitting me in that place that sends stars shooting across my sight, unable to stop the moans that the pleasure is ripping from me.
Théodred: Bracing myself on one arm, I reach round, take your hand and wrap it around your cock, my voice hoarse, so very nearly there. "Come for me." With both hands once again holding me up, I slam into you, harder, deeper, your groans turning to cries and your body jerks, tightening impossibly around me, and I come as your seed spurts onto your chest, your head thrown back, but your eyes never leave me as my own completion shudders through me. "I'm yours Mer, always yours, always …"
And then I have nothing left to give. My arms stay braced as the tremors cease, as your hands running up them, and I use the last remaining remnant of strength to pull out of you while you clean your chest. Collapsing on the bed, nestling against your chest, burying my face in your long hair, I push my body against yours, needing your skin against mine, and your arms wrap around me and hold me close. No-one has ever been able to make me feel like this, no-one has ever been able to take everything that I have, leave me sated and exhausted and yet still wanting more.
Éomer: I pull you into me, my arms wrapping around you, fishing for the blankets with my feet, and finally getting the sheet over us. We fit together easily, as though we have done this a thousand times before. My eyes are drooping, staring out the window at the slowly lightning sky. I smile, lazy and contented, this night has been one that I will not forget, even if we do have others as you promised.
But I do not want to leave in my sleep, without saying goodbye. "Théo, I am tired, perhaps I am not insatiable," I smile. "Or perhaps you are the only one capable of exhausting me. Will you wake me before I must leave?"
Théodred: I chuckle at the way our thoughts are so similar, and hold you closer. "I will wake you." I murmur against your chest. It would seem that even in our sleep, we cannot get enough of the feel of each other. I make sure I doze so we do not sleep too long and we merge together, limbs tangling, moving as one when we turn so you are draped around my back, your arm holding me possessively close, your face pressed against my neck and I let out a contented sigh.
I sensed earlier there are things about your time that you keep from me, and I have to wonder how prudent it would be to learn of the future. If I knew what was to come, would it colour choices I have, from your perspective, already made? This is something I must think on.
All too soon, it is time, and I reach back, and run my fingers through your hair wanting to stay within your embrace for as long as possible. "Time to wake, my stallion, time to go." You groan against my neck, and tighten your arm around me as I smile. "I need you to give Karl another seven days, but this time, he will call for you at some point before then, and you must speak with him. Talk to him, Mer, reassure him." I turn a little, and your lips graze my jaw. "Someday soon, when they come to accept us, there will be no need for bargains and negotiations."
Éomer: I sigh, sadness overwhelming me, I do not want to leave you, but I know that I must, for Karl and for the people I have left behind. The thought that Karl may one day accept me is too much to ask for.
"Goodbye, Théo, I will do as you ask." I bury my nose in your neck. "Time will go slowly for me until I can see you again."
You get out of bed, but my mind is tired and I am soon able to drift off again, fading away with you the last thing I see.
Théodred: "Goodbye Mer. I will be waiting for you." As you fall back to sleep, I brush the hair from your face, watching with regret as moments later, it changes from blonde to dark, features shifting, and you are gone. I sit and watch Karl sleep for a while. His face is relaxed, very different from when I came upon him but a week ago. Both of you are already benefitting from these bargains, and I can only hope that your conversation goes well.
I ease myself off the bed, not wanting to wake Karl just yet, and stand by the window looking down over the trees, my mind a world away.
NC-17
