Hobbit-kink Prompt: Dwarf hands are kind of big, I can't imagine Thorin actually preparing Bilbo for sex with his own fingers to be honest. SO... Bilbo fingering himself as Thorin watches.
The lights were dim in the small room, the single oil lamp hanging from the ceiling swaying gently at the evening breeze that entered the room from the single circular open window. It wasn't an unpleasant breeze or even a cold breeze, but one that served its purpose of freshen up the room enough to allow the pair some fresh air.
Shadows were cast upon the smaller, lither body, a pair of big, round, deep sapphire-blue eyes intently following the sinuous lines of the hobbit's frame, from the caramel-coloured curls to the cobalt of his eyes, never foregoing those beautifully parted lips, the rising of his chest and his fuller belly, down and down further to the tangle of darker, tighter curls that nested his engorged length.
Never in his life had Thorin imagined that he could feel attracted to something as (supposedly) weak and fragile as the creature that laid bare before him. Their eyes met when Bilbo's hand rested on Thorin's broad shoulder, his fingers lightly tightening their hold on the skin, waiting for the dwarf to make a move. Any move.
And Thorin did, leaning down and connecting their bodies by the lips, surprisingly gentle for his usual demeanour. The low rumble of a chuckle made itself be heard in the near-silence of the room as the hobbit arched and let out an embarrassing, needy whimper.
"Touch yourself," the dwarf spoke in a low, commanding voice, not demanding, but showing no room to argue the possibility of denial.
So the hobbit complied, his hand carding through the dark, thick hairs in Thorin's chest, caressing down until he dropped it over himself, fingers curling around his erection, stroking the swollen member a couple of times before a larger hand covered his. Bilbo looked up in puzzlement, meeting Thorin's eyes once more as the dwarf smiled and tugged at Bilbo's hand.
At first the hobbit frowned, "I thought you wanted me to-" yet then he seemed to have understood the gesture and, not really sure how it was even possible, felt his cheeks redden further, the blush spreading over his chest and colour the tips of his ears.
Thorin watched intently as Bilbo laid more comfortably on the bed, spreading his legs wider for his lover, giving him full view. He brought his own fingers up to his lips and locking cobalt to sapphire once more, he sucked on them teasingly, his tongue deliberately circling his digits as he let out tiny mewling noises and went straight to Thorin's own aching length.
And then Bilbo's hand was travelling downwards again, his legs parting slightly wider, his forefinger circling around the tight ring of muscle. He let his head fall back, prodding his pink puckered hole as his hips rocked softly upwards in search of friction or any kind of attention. Thorin merely eyed as Bilbo's entrance relaxed and his digit entered his body, the noises coming from the smaller one enough to feed Thorin's fantasies for a lifetime.
Bilbo worked himself open slowly but surely, thrusting into himself and revelling in the sensation of his walls tightening around his finger. His lips parted and he let out a loud groan, circling his digit inside himself and mildly cursing at the sensation, Thorin's name spilling from his lips. The dwarf's hands climbed up the hobbit's chest, thumbs pressing the skin, making Bilbo arch and cry, hungrily shoving a second finger inside himself.
"Faster," came the commanding voice, and Bilbo could do nothing but obey.
Hand thrusting faster, fingers scissoring inside himself, the wet sounds coming from his nether regions were quickly bringing Thorin to his ruin, eyes wide as he watched the reddened skin swallowing Bilbo's slenderer fingers, and he could feel the wetness of his own erection dripping down the hardened shaft.
"More, Bilbo," he hissed, voice dark and thick with lust. Bilbo inserted a third finger and Thorin's pupils were completely blown wide, his erection bobbing in anticipation, his fingers pinching the hobbit's nipples tightly, making him yelp and cry and scream and moan and shudder and Thorin could wait no more.
He was so winded up by now, he didn't even know how he managed to force Bilbo's fingers out of himself, replacing the digits for his own length. He only knew that he ended up slamming his hips against Bilbo's, his length so wet that no oil was required. He felt his shaft sliding easily in and out of the hobbit, body pressing him down against the mattress, hands holding his hips in place as he claimed Bilbo's lips hard and urgently in a bruising kiss.
Bilbo found himself trapped in a cage of strong arms and muscular body, his own was moving to meet the dwarf's halfway. "Th-Thorin..." he moaned against his lover's lips hands helplessly trying to get a firm hold of something, finding it on his partner's shoulders. Bilbo's fingernails dug into the tanned skin, dragging outwards and marking the King's body with a set of red lines, making him quicken their tempo even further.
Thorin knew that he would be close, that he wouldn't last long, and he wasn't going to embarrass himself by reaching completion before Bilbo, so in a haste and a confusing untangling of limbs, his big, strong hand reached down and his thick, skilful, calloused fingers curled tight around Bilbo's weeping length.
Arching his back, the hobbit felt helpless, completely dominated, completely lost in a dark sea of pleasure, and trying to resist was like swimming against an untameable torrent. Resistance was useless, indeed, and after a tight squeeze of Thorin's hand on his member, Bilbo was screaming out his name, body tensing, eyes screwing shut and walls tightening impossibly around Thorin's body as Bilbo's spasms consumed his form, bringing him down from the peak of his climax and into a pool of warm bliss.
Feeling the hobbit's body contracting around himself, Thorin had to use all his strength not to come undone too soon, but it was the amazing sensation of Bilbo tightening around him and the feeling of his seed spurting in long pearly ribbons over his chest that made him topple over, and the King Under the Mountain let out a groan, spending himself inside Bilbo's welcoming body, thrusting throughout his release, allowing his lover's warmness to milk him through.
They remained still for a long while, Thorin's forehead pressed against Bilbo's, his fingers gently caressing his caramel curls back, now drenched in sweat and plastered to his face. After a moment, the low rumbling chuckle was forming in Thorin's chest again, and he finally rolled over, slipping out of Bilbo, earning himself a groan.
"You know, you will be the death of me, hobbit," he said, still lightly laughing.
Frowning Bilbo looked up at him and winced, feeling Thorin's seed dripping between his buttocks. He said nothing about either that or Thorin's words, merely laying his head on his strong and muscular chest and kissing him lightly over his heart. "There's more where that came from, you know?"
"I can't wait for it, then," he replied, looping his arm around his smaller frame and bringing him closer.
But the hobbit was already fast asleep. Thorin chuckled and rolled his eyes, deciding that it was for the best if he followed the example and got some rest. Maybe in the morning he could persuade Bilbo to touch himself again. Yes. That would be a marvellous breakfast.