Update: July 7th, 2016
So I've been on a Legomance binge for a bit, and my depraved mind has realized that there is a grave shortage of good Legolas smut. This is a bit of a newer thing for me, putting the reader in a first person POV, but I think I kept it consistent throughout. So should you happen to see the tense change or it slip into third person, please notify me!
Oh, to clarify, Legolas's partner is a female. Elf, human, I really have no clue nor do I have a preference. All I know is that whomever Legolas is gonna be with will have her own unique abilities and strengths that he won't be able to ignore.
For the sake of not having nineteen thousand footnotes, I just put the Sindarian/Quenya translations right next to the phrase. Yes, I used the Grey Company, along with a few other sites, but for the sake of not mixing Sindarian with the Common Tongue I just mixed the two Elvish languages together.
Oh, and in case you missed the memo, THIS IS AN M RATED FIC FOR SEX AND LIGHT BDSM. IF EITHER OFFENDS YOU OR YOU DO NOT WISH TO READ, I INVITE YOU TO TURN BACK NOW.
Otherwise, please enjoy!
Disclaimer: ech selwer do net den Här vun de Réng (Luxembourgish)
You hear the door to your flet open and close quietly, and you know he's come home safe. A breath that you've been holding all day finally escapes, and you relax as you listen to him disarm and store his weapons and armor. The background noise is a comfort that you haven't realized you've missed these past weeks without him. But now he is back, and all will be well. You hear him step up behind you where you are working at the laundry counter, folding the freshly cleaned clothes to be put away.
"I've missed you, Melamin," (my love) Legolas says, slipping an arm around your waist easily. He pulls you close to him, pressing you against his form, and you smile even as you continue to fold clothes.
"As I have missed you, a'maelamin," (my beloved) you whisper back, leaning into your love's embrace. Legolas presses a kiss to your temple, soft as a feather's touch, and tightens his hold on you the slightest bit. He stands a head taller than you, yet is just as thin and lithe as you are. His hard body conforms to your softer one, and you sigh in contentment. He smells of the forest and of the earth after a long rain and the scent intoxicates you, as it always has, and as it always will.
You put down whatever garment you are holding and turn around in his grip to face him, giving him a proper kiss on the lips. You twine your fingers through his long blonde silk hair as your hands come up to wrap around his neck, feeling the small smile gracing his lips against your own. He pulls back after an eternity has past, and you stare into the endless depths of his blue eyes and see nothing but love and adoration and desire in them.
"Come to bed," he commands in a soft voice meant for your ears only. You've already laid with him before; this won't be the first time. But his command is something different, something new, something exciting that awakens a fire in you. The prince of the Woodland Realm is showing through a bit, and you find that you rather enjoy this newer side of Legolas. You cannot refuse him, even if you wanted to.
"Of course, my Lord," you whisper back to him. A spark lights up his eyes, and he is kissing you again, more heatedly than before. He backs you up slightly, trapping you against the counter you were working on earlier, and his hands slid from your waist to your hip. You can feel his hands gliding over the fabric of your dress even through the haze of his kiss, caressing your body in adoration. He grabs your thigh and wraps your leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You moan and wrap your other leg around him, letting him hold you up. Legolas caries you away from the laundry counter and back into your bedroom and you feel his muscles ripple under his tunic with every move he makes.
He does not hesitate to kick the door shut, barely taking the time to lock it before he moves towards the bed. He breaks the kiss long enough to lay you out on the bed and crawl over you, trapping your body once more under his. He presses another kiss to your lips, a quick one, and captures your attention again with his eyes.
"Lle estellio amin?" (Do you trust me?) he asks quietly, eyes searching you for your answer. You struggle to think for a second through the fog of your passion. Legolas would never hurt you, you know that. You've been together too long and been through too much to not trust him.
"Yassen amin coia." (With my life.) Legolas searches your eyes for a moment more, and then a dazzling smile spreads over his features. And he kisses you again, with more passion and love than you ever thought possible. You're close to drowning in it for all of its power. Your hands roam his back while he gently bites your bottom lip, tugging on it the slightest bit, and you gasp. He slides his tongue into your mouth and explores, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to. He brushes against your tongue, coaxing you to dance with him, and you let him lead you through this new territory. The feeling is new and more than enticing, and you almost beg for more.
Just when you feel as though you cannot breathe (you might have just forgotten how to, thanks to a certain woodland elf), Legolas leaves your mouth, kissing your lips and jaw and neck, sending fire down your spine. Your breath leaves your body in a harsh gasp and your chest heaves under his form as he licks and suckles and gently bites your neck, right where it meets your jaw. You never knew how sensitive the area is, and Legolas will not let you soon forget.
Your normally acute senses are heightened to almost unnatural levels, and you feel and hear everything. The sound of his own breath against your heated skin and your bodies moving over the satin bedsheets, the feel of his lips on your neck and his hands roaming your body freely. The feeling of Legolas everywhere is almost overwhelming and completely disarming, so much so that you're writhing under him within minutes, breathlessly begging him not to tease you and draw out this blissful torture any longer.
He hears you, and meets your eye for a second. You can barely think straight, but you recognize the look in his eye. It is one of mischief, and you know it will mean trouble of some kind for you. He hums against your neck softly, removing his hands from your body for a moment to capture your hands in his, twining your fingers together and pressing your hands into the mattress on either side of your head, and immediately resumes his ministrations at your neck. You gasp and moan all the more, your body twisting under his, aching for a release that he is denying you. The feeling of being trapped under his form, of not being able to even use your hands to touch him, of his almost merciless teasing pushes you higher than you've ever been in your other encounters with him; the feeling is like a drug, and you are now hopelessly addicted.
Finally, finally, he pulls away from your neck just when you think you would burn up in his arms and kisses you again roughly, telling you of his intense desire for you and only you, for your love, even for your body without saying a word, and you answer with as much zeal, gripping his hands tightly and arching under him, pressing your bodies as close as they can get. Legolas growls low in his throat and pulls at the collar of your dress as he takes your mouth, tugging at the laces in the front almost desperately, impatient to get the garment off your form. You shiver at how possessive he sounds, like a wolf protecting the female he declares to be his mate.
"Take that dress off," Legolas says, his voice heavy with lust, and you don't even need to think twice about it. He frees your hands long enough to open the laces of the dress, and he waits as you pull it off, tossing it to the side to land somewhere on the bedroom floor. His tunic joins it soon afterward, and then Legolas is back on top of you, pushing you back onto the mattress and trapping both your hands in one of his again.
Your breathing speeds up and you watch as he pulls his belt from around his own hips and wraps your wrists in the soft leather. A thrill of fear laces down your spine, and you stare at your bound hands. He's done a good job; the leather won't give without his help or a lot of pain on your part, but it is not too tight on your wrists. He secures your hands to the frame of the bed, and your eyes flash to him in fear.
Legolas is looking at you, meeting your frightened gaze with more love. He does not leave, as you fear he would, and he is hovering over you, not trapping you down like before. His gentle hand caresses your face, and his eyes are asking you to trust him. You are afraid, yes, but this is Legolas. Your one and only love. He will not harm you, neither will he abandon you, nor will he dishonor you. A part of you wants to explore this new side, as terrifying as it may seem. So you take a deep breath and nod to him.
"Please, Legolas, do not stop," you whisper. He lays back down on top of you and kisses you sweetly, smoothing your loose hair away from your face.
"Are you sure? We don't have to," he murmurs to you as he presses his forehead against yours.
You're suddenly aware that you are completely exposed to him, bare for him to look at, and unable to move thanks to your bound wrists and his hard body pressed against yours. And for some reason, that knowledge makes warmth flood your systems and pool between your legs. You want more. More of this new sensation, more of this new way to make love, and more of Legolas. And you make the choice to submit to his love.
"Karnel amin, Heruamin," (Make love to me, my Lord) you whisper, letting him read the trust and love behind your decision in your eyes. And then he is back at your mouth, possessing and demanding, drawing your arousal back to the fever pitch it was at before. His now free hands glide over your naked skin, tracing invisible lines and patterns that leave more fire in his wake. Without warning he caresses your breasts, teasing the soft nipples to a hard point and gently massaging the swollen tissue. Gentle and firm, his calloused hands make you cry out for more into your kiss, and this time Legolas acquiesces, gently tugging on the pink peaks and giving them soft flicks that feel like lightning is running through your body until you thrash against his hands and your bonds.
He finally releases your mouth, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he kisses each nipple, as if apologizing for their mistreatment. And then his hot mouth closes over one, and your mind empties of everything but the feeling of Legolas loving you in this intense new way. His mouth is so warm and his tongue flicks over your nipple over and over again, watching your face as you throw your head back and arch into his hot, wet mouth, practically keening for more. A hand massages your free breast while the other strokes your side lovingly. And then Legolas switches sides, paying the other breast as much attention as the first, and you swear that you'll go mad from his torture.
When Legolas finally leaves your breasts, they are a rosy pink and slightly more swollen than before, and every movement against them sends more heat into your body. He comes back up and kisses you again, letting a hand trail over your body once more, pushing his hips into yours in a gentle rolling motion that nearly sends you over the edge. You moan, feeling his arousal through his trousers, and you pull at the restraints on your wrists, hoping to touch him and show him the same amazing feeling he has shown you. But the bonds hold, and the feeling of being trapped returns, and this time you feel less fear than before, and more of your own arousal. He can do whatever he wants to you, and you let him, because you are his, just like he is yours.
Legolas leaves your lips even as he continues to roll against you, making the wetness gathered between your legs all the more noticeable. His name rolls off your tongue more times than you care to count, promising him the world, sun, moon, and all the stars in the heavens if he but satiates your need for him. His eyes never leave your flushed face, and in a split second moment of clarity you see just how happy he is to give you this pleasure, how proud and humbled he is that you chose him to be your partner, and his guttural need to give you more, until you can no longer think straight. He's so happy to pleasure you that his own needs are an afterthought. His only focus is you.
Legolas leans down to whisper in your ear. "Uuma now, ere' tyav, Melamin." (Don't think, only feel, my love.) He kisses your face, eyes, nose, cheeks, everywhere he can, ever rolling against you, and you give in and let him think for you, losing yourself to bliss when his hand ghosts over your core. Your eyes shut as you arch off the bed. The prolonged teasing has made you slick and hot and oh so sensitive, and you realize this was what Legolas was aiming for. His deft fingers flit over you again, and another keening cry leaves your lips.
And then Legolas is back on top of you, pinning your body down and holding you still while he plays with your sex, flicking his fingers back and forth quickly. Desire slams into you, and you would have screamed aloud had he not kissed you. The onslaught of feeling is too much; his hard body pressed against you, the leather restricting your hands, not being able to voice your passion, and your love's fingers driving you higher becomes too much and you scream his name into your kiss as he finally brings you to the peak and lets you release. Stars dance in your vision and your breath is harsh and your skin is sweaty and flushed and every part of you is limp after your climax. Your eyes lazily slide over to Legolas's, and that look of pride is back, with such adoration and love that you might just cry.
And then it changes into that wicked mischief, and Legolas brings his hand up to his lips, licking your essence off. You moan as you watch, panting slightly, hating that he's teasing you again and yet more than willing to continue if he wished it. His fingers are glossy, and you're the slightest bit embarrassed at what he's doing, but far more aroused than you care to admit, and you find yourself wanting to taste him the same way he's tasting you. His long tongue slides out slowly, languidly, savoring your taste as though it was the sweetest honey in the world.
"You taste divine, lirimaer amin," (my lovely one) he purrs in your ear, and you shudder in anticipation. He smiles at you, a devious smile, and slides down to rest between your legs, spreading them apart and baring you to him. Another flush of embarrassment rips through you, and you almost pull away and ask him to stop. But Legolas is patient, showering you with kisses on your legs and hips and stomach, whispering praises to you, letting you get used to him being there and giving you the chance to stop. You don't want to, and his actions have more than assured you of his pleasure in being with you. So you arch a little, calling his name and giving him a nod, and a tumble of happiness flows into you at the sight of his magnificent smile.
And then his head dips, and you feel his warm breath against your sex, and the sensation nearly makes you jerk on your restraints again. His hands smooth down your hips as he kisses your core and you moan his name at the soft contact, rolling your hips a bit. You can almost feel him smirk against you before he covers you with his mouth, kissing and licking and suckling all over again. And now you do yank on your restraints, because his velvet tongue is sending magic through your body and you don't know if you can take it much longer. He finds the sensitive nub of nerves and pays it special mind, never leaving it alone for long. You feel his long fingers nudge your entrance, and you whimper. He's teasing you again, but it's so much more intense now, and you're wound up tight much faster than before.
You beg as Legolas continues to lick at you, your legs thrashing in the messy bedsheets around him while his other hand holds your hips down, keeping you where he wants you. He isn't on top of you, but he still pins you down, and the feeling of being trapped comes back again, making you hotter than ever before. Finally, he stops torturing you, locking his eyes on yours as he slides a finger inside you slowly, slowly, slowly, and you can feel every inch of him. Your walls ripple around his finger, and he leisurely pulls out again. You whine at him, wanting more than he's giving, but he won't be coaxed into letting you off easily.
Legolas pushes into you again, and moves his finger the tiniest bit. You want so badly for him to move faster, to join with him, but he just smirks and moves a bit again, eyes rapt on your face, watching you so intently that you can feel his gaze on you. For hours, it seems, he does this, in and out, only moving a little, and you've thrown away any semblance of decency, outright begging and pleading for him to let you release. And then he brushes past one spot that makes you go taunt all over, so close to bliss from that one touch. Legolas sees, and he hits that spot again, and your eyes roll back and all speech becomes incoherent save for his name. He pulls out again, massaging the inside of your legs, peppering kisses just shy of where you want him to be, and you want to scream in frustration.
"Patience, my love, patience," he murmurs to you. He never lets you cool down enough to relax and yet never goes back to driving you past the edge. You hover at the top, just a hair's breath away from falling into oblivion, and he denies you far longer than you want to bear. You pull harshly at your bonds – you want to touch him, to make him come to you, to get away from his enticing touch – but the leather holds without harming you, and once more you plead with Legolas to bring you to completion. You just know that you will fly apart if he does not touch you, and you would do anything to make him give you that last little push.
And then he's back at your core, three fingers now plunging into you at a furious pace, tongue lapping at that nub again, and once more the sudden overload of sensation drives you mad. You could barely stand one finger, and now three are stretching you father than you ever thought possible, and it doesn't hurt even the slightest bit, and he's hitting that spot again fast, over and over, and his tongue is torturing your nub, making it as swollen as he made your breasts, and you feel every move he makes, and you can't move to escape this high or make it better, and you can do nothing but drown in the ecstasy Legolas is giving you as you writhe against his restraining arm and the leather binding your hands and scream his name to the heavens without care. You feel yourself tighten around his probing fingers, and everything intensifies farther, making you jerk desperately. It's so much, it's almost too much, but you want more and more and more.
Finally the intense wave recedes far enough for you to remember to gasp for air. Legolas's fingers are still inside you, stroking your walls easily, softly, gently, helping you down from the new height he drove you to, and his eyes are locked on you, still full of love and pride and desire. He cleans his hands again, and you feel need pour back into your groin once more. He crawls up your body slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, and the one thought you have through the haze of pleasure that still tinges your vision is that he looks too much like an angel to be playing such a sinful game, but you won't complain. Legolas presses a kiss to your lips, and you hungrily rise to meet him. You can just taste a hint of yourself on his lips, and it only makes you long for him more. Even as tired as you are, you want to be with him fully tonight.
"Please, Legolas," you beg, "be with me." Because to not be with him is as much torture as his teasing. Even being as intimate and close as this, it cannot compare to when he lays with you.
Legolas pulls back to look at you, concern in his eyes. He sees how tired you are. "Are you sure you can handle another?" he asks, stroking your hair back from your sweaty face gently. You nod and roll your hips into his still-present arousal, making him growl once more.
"Only once more, because I love you," he murmurs with a low chuckle, kissing your face again while he removes his trousers, throwing the last barrier between them somewhere else on the floor. His lips press against yours once more as he reaches up and unties your hands, finally freeing you to touch him as you've been longing to do all this time. Immediately you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you even as he lines himself up with your still swollen entrance. No teasing this time, and you don't need it, not in the wake of that last explosion; he slides into you in one swift stroke, and you feel complete with him inside you. Even his three fingers could not compare to this, and he runs his hands back down to your legs, wrapping them around his hips again, opening you up more to him and driving him deeper than ever before.
You look at Legolas, panting slightly, and whisper your love to him as he moves slowly inside of you. You run your hands all over his hard-packed muscles, memorizing every ripple and ridge, and he's lying on top of you once more, never letting go, never letting his eyes leave yours. You're easily back at fever pitch, only this time you take Legolas with you, his thrusts speeding up and driving deep, hitting that spot that makes you see stars, and he takes one of your hands again. And he drives you both back to that peak, and he follows you over after you breathe his name once more, filling you with his own being as you hold him close.
Legolas rolls over onto his back, pulling you with him, keeping the two of you connected. He tucks your head under his chin, reaching for the covers that ended up on the floor some time ago, throwing it over the both of you. You don't even realize that you are shivering in the aftermath of your lovemaking, the sweat drying quickly on your skin. Legolas stares at you, a loving smile etched onto his face as he strokes your hair and gently rubs circles on the small of your back.
"Are you alright?" His voice is soft, and you nod your head slightly. You're content to just listen to his heartbeat and feel him holding you close. Your body is gloriously loose, your limbs heavy, and you feel like going to sleep.
"Yes my love, I am just sleepy," you murmur to him, eyes already drifting closed. "Are you?"
"Why would I not be?" He sounds amused if not slightly confounded by your innocent question. You can't really bring yourself to think too much on it. But a little nest of guilt has settled in, and you'll not find peace until it's gone.
"Well, you've been tending to me this entire time," you say without much thought. "You were only satisfied at the end. I can't-"
Legolas hushes you and hugs you tighter to him, wrapping the blankets around your shoulders. "Do not worry about that, darling. My satisfaction came more from seeing you in bliss. I could want no more than your happiness, and if I can provide, why should I not?" He chuckles. "Besides, I am sure that you will make it up to me some day if this truly plagues you."
A small smile pulls at your lips, "Yes, I most definitely will." You pause for a moment, considering asking him your next request. After tonight, you are certain that there is nothing you can ask of that he would not seek to give, so this should be easy. You steel your nerves as best as you are able and take a breath. "Will you sing me a song?"
An amused chuckle escapes Legolas, and he kisses the top of your head. "Of course, love." And he sings softly to you of life and beauty and of the peace he has found in your love, his tenor lulling you to sleep in his arms.
Yeah, not really any plot with this, just a lot of lovely smut. I hope you lovies enjoy this!
As per usual, favorite, follow, review, and of course, stay safe everyone!