L'Amante
By
Gia4
Disclaimer: All characters and settings from The Lord of the Rings belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. The rest is mine.
The air is chilly. The sun is about to set over the mighty forest of Mirkwood for yet another day and welcomes the darkness of the night to take its place. And still, as I slowly walk passed the gigantic walls inside of the majestic palace, my body just gets hotter and hotter! I follow a corridor. At the other end lies the throne room. He asked me to meet him there. I know why. And I can't wait! Yet I don't hurry. I don't want to rush in there out of breath like some exhausted animal. I want to be representative before my Prince. I want to be appealing to him. Just as he is to me. I reach the door. I stop and close my eyes for a short moment, focusing. Both his and mine expectations are high. I don't want to ruin this. I pull a deep breath and then open my eyes once more. It's time. I'm about to knock on the door just before I hesitate and then decide not to. He has his dreams, his visions, of these moments. To him I'm something unbelievable, like a resurrected Goddess. A Goddess doesn't knock on doors, not even before the Prince of Mirkwood. A Goddess simply and quietly enters and stays by the inside of the door. I don't want to spoil his fantasy. Silently I push the unlocked door open and enter. I close the door behind me.
It's so quiet. All that is heard is the life coming from outside the palace that enters the room through the windows. Sounds of birds, the wind and the elves. A sound of life and activity that is slowly fading away as it goes to sleep, one by one, for the night. I gaze to the other side of the room. He is standing there, looking out through one of the windows. As the wind is blowing all the curtains inside, I see the beauty and the breathtaking forest beyond. Right now his eyes are seeing exactly what I'm seeing. And yet the scenery is nowhere near as beautiful as the man standing in front of me.
I remain by the door. Silently. Patiently. I'm not sure if he knows of my arrival. But I refuse to disturb the moment. I leave it to him to learn of my presence. My waiting doesn't turn out to be long lasted. After just a few, silent moments, I see him move. His head drops slowly a bit. Then he turns and looks over his left shoulder. He spots me. I can't help but to tremble when I see his powerful eyes looking at me. And what eyes he has! They carry the colour of blue. His eyebrows. beautifully arched. And the gaze itself could penetrate anything in its path.
His face remains unexpressed as he turns around entirely. There is no readable sign of anything in his face at all. He seems neither happy, nor angry, nor vexed to see me. Yet I can see the emotional impact on him that my arrival has given him. He tries to hide it behind his mask as Prince. This masked face of the ruler is now right in front of me. But underneath the surface, behind the mask, I see the true man. A man I know very well. I might be the only one in the whole world who truly sees! Who truly knows!
I look at him in awe. He's a very attractive man. A man that really is still a boy. His youth is very apparent in his face. A sweetness, even an innocence, covers him like a transparent surface that allows the otherwise strong and powerful appearance to get through. Many fear his strength in the way he carries himself. But I don't. To me, his dark gaze is just an appealing attraction. To me he is beautiful.
He is dressed in green and black garments, ornamented with golden patterns, all in the finest materials to be found. The typical robe for Royalty. For a Prince. But his beauty overcomes even the finest of clothing. His long blond hair is pulled back. Styled differently, actually, compared the last time I saw him, which was two days ago. At first glance it makes his youth even more apparent. He almost looks like a sweet, little boy, even. But after that first sight it somehow changes and he suddenly seems older than his mere 2931 years.
I am uncertain if he knows of my feelings regarding that such a young person really shouldn't put his life on the line. I have still never expressed my opinion to him. My opinion would never change anything but it still exists. He's still too young for the task. Two thousand thirty-one years old is too early for anyone to be taken away. The pain would be unbearable for me. And yet, he constantly amazes me that he overcomes all difficulties. He amazes me greatly and that's why I admire him. For being so experienced and still desiring to learn so much. But this glorious quest is not easy on him. I worry as he faces great dangers. I am aware of his emotional battles raging on with many enemies around him. And not to forget, with himself. He knows, as I do, that many evil creatures lurk outside, somewhere, of these walls. But he has nothing to fear at this moment. He is with me and I'll watch over him. He knows that. As I know that I have nothing to fear when I am with him.
- "The night is getting closer", he suddenly utters. More like a whisper really. I know why he speaks so quietly. The truth behind it is embarrassing for him.
- "You sent for me, my Lord".
- "Yes, I did".
My words are unusually cold. So is his reply. Why we both are still using these formalities in private is still a mystery. It's almost as we are trying to hold on to the mystery. Or are trying to prevent anyone from knowing that we are closer than what these formalities are showing. But why are we hiding it? He's one of the most powerful men here. He is a Prince and doesn't have to answer to anyone. What could he possible fear in this life? Probably more than what even I can ever learn in my lifetime! He carries fears that only leaders could carry. And fears that a leader should never carry too. That became apparent to me once more the moment he just now mentioned the approach of the night. I know exactly what he means with that statement.
- "Will you stay with me?" he asks me. It's not a command. It's a request. Another proof of the emotional battles raging within him. I've become very good at noticing them.
- "Still having those nightmares, my Lord?"
My question does not surprise him or offend him. Not many know his secret, his childhood secret that still haunts him to this day. He's been afraid of the creatures that come to him in his dreams all his life. It has followed him like a black shadow of misery. And it has deprived him of many nights of sleep and comfort. But he has admitted it to me in total confidence. He knows that I'm not judging him. He knows that I am fully aware of where his fear comes from. Slowly he still turns his head away from me, staring into nothing. Despite my understanding, he's still ashamed of his own fear.
- "Still", he admits a little reluctantly and even manages to produce a tiny smile as he once more admits the truth to himself. - "Always". He quickly turns his gaze back to me. I see a tiny reflection of a need for comfort in his face.
- "Stay with me tonight", he begs me, even more apparently than before. His soft voice sounds so much more like the one of a boy, not like the one of a future King at all. I'm touched by the emotional impact he always has on me. It's almost like a spell. He always manages to reach my sympathy, even if he never does that on purpose.
- "You know I will", I reassure him.
I answer in obedience. But it's an obedience from the bottom of my heart! I am his servant. His loyal subject. His ally. His friend. I am his Mistress. These are all duties of mine, given to me by him. But even if he has every right and authority to, he has never forced these duties upon me. When he asks for me I always come by my own, free will. He is my Master. He is my Prince. My caretaker. My friend. He is my lover. And the man that I love.
The mask of the Royal remains on his face. But he slowly raises his right hand with his palm up towards me. Words are unnecessary. I know what he wants. I know him so well. And, by the Gods, I want to give it to him! To us both! Slowly I approach him. I reach out for his waiting hand and tremble as I feel him softly but firmly caress my left hand. I step even closer and then stop. He is a tall man. But his height is not much above my own. But his greatness lies not in his features. It lies in his spirit, within his heart. Many wonder about his feelings since he's perfected the art of masking them so well. But he does have feelings. Even a future King is capable of the greatest love. And I have been blessed with his love. I'm the only one who has.
He slowly brings my hand up to his lips. My eyes fixes the braids in his hair as he kisses my skin so sweetly. His touch, the honour to be this close to him, is overwhelming. My heart is pounding. I can hardly contain myself. I long for him. I need him! I want him! I want to love him! And to be loved by him! But somehow I can control the fire that rages within me. All that I wish for is already here. And it will be given even more to me. Very soon. But it shall be done the way as he wishes it to be. And I don't mind. His wishes are my own. He hasn't forced me or manipulated me to share his feelings. It just happened. It happened from the very moment we met. And I'm not the one to question miracles or the Gods' wills when they are at work. He could take on as many mistresses and lovers as he pleased. But he doesn't. I am the only one. To be the only lover to a mighty Royal is such an honour! And I know it's his way of proving his love for me.
His fingers release my hand. There's no need for him to be a Prince anymore this night. He knows that I'm not longing for his title. I want the man, not the his status. Until the sunrise, I will give him the chance to be himself. And I understand that that is one of the greatest gifts I can ever give to him. A gift that I so happily will give to him. Over and over again. I only wish he knew what a gift in itself that is to me in return. The mask of the Prince is slowly disappearing from his face now, fought back by the emotions from within his soul. When I look into his blue eyes it's almost like looking into my own reflection! He carries my longing, the same feelings as I feel inside. We are so much alike, him and I. And it's time that we become even more.
I keep staring into his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that just seem to get more and more emotional by each passing moment. Silently he begs for my care. For my touch. For my love. I know why his needs are so desperate. No one has ever loved him. Not truly loved him. Not in this way. I cannot explain why.
- "Then kiss me", he whispers.
Carefully I raise my hands to his face and place them on each side. I step even closer. I want him to know how much I worship him. Not only as my Prince. But simply because I love him so much. A simpleness that carries so much with it. I close my eyes in satisfaction as I place a small, delicate kiss on his lips. As I end the kiss and open my eyes again I see that his eyes are still closed and his lips are still reaching out for more. I lean in closer again and kiss him once more, just as delicate but much longer this time. This time he takes over. I feel his hands wonder up my back, embracing me closer to him. He deepens the kiss and he presses his tongue into my mouth. He moans as he makes contact with my tongue and I join him. My hands drop to his shoulders, then further along around his neck. In a moment we embrace each other tight, our kiss growing more and more passionate.
His lips drops down to my neck at the same time as his hands drops down to my backside and squeezes my buttocks. I gasp as his fingers gently caress my butt. He repeats this act. Again. And again. And again. My whole body is on fire for him. I want him so badly now. I am ready. And my roaming hands on his back tell him so. He takes a step back, looks at me, and then takes my hands as he draws me with him to the throne. He sits down and pulls me towards him. Facing him, I put one leg on each side of him as I once more enter his embrace. I sit comfortably in his lap as our bodies press at each other, our arms embracing the other. I feel his manhood press through our clothing against my crotch. It excites me even more. But once more I remain patient. I give him his time.
Sometimes all he needs is a hug. To be able to hold me close to him. To know that I'm there for him when he needs me. Hours can go by with just him holding me. And me holding him. No more, no less. I know that there will be more than just hugs this evening, but I would never rip him of this moment for anything in the whole world. I treasure it as much as he does. Feeling him pressing me to his chest is like feeling the sun on my heart for thousands of years!
He starts to kiss me again. More hungrily than before. Our hands begin to move on each other. I start to remove his clothes and they fall off him with ease, despite the fact that I'm sitting in his lap. As I run my hands over his chest and shoulders, I enjoy the delicate touch of his naked skin against my fingers as I feel him stripping of my own clothes.
Sitting half naked in his lap, his exploring and yet innocent touch, suddenly leaves my remaining clothes alone and move to my lips. I tremble as I feel his sweet touch of his fingers move over my mouth. It feels so good!
- "Open your mouth", he tells me. I obey and feel his pointer and long finger pass between my lips. Then he brings his fingers back to his own lips and tastes my flavour. His eyes are half closed, as if he was in some dream world.
- "You know I love you", he whispers.
- "And I love you", I answer him, knowing so well that he means what he tells me. He would never lie to me. And I would never lie to him.
He draws me even nearer, nibbling at my lips.
- "Say that again. Please."
I feel his desperation in his touch and hear it even more clearly in his trembling voice. He knows that I love him but he's so afraid to loose me. He constantly needs to be reminded. I kiss him back, trying to reassure him. I want him to feel secure. At peace.
- "I love you", I repeat.
His hands move once more to my now naked buttocks and pulls me upward a bit. I know what this means. He's ready. He wants me. He wants me now! I follow the command of his movements. I feel the increasing contact of his exposed, hard manhood between my legs. I make no resistance as he pulls me slowly down on him. My hands are squeezing his shoulders. I want this as much as he does. We stare into each other's eyes as our breathing increases. I feel how he starts to enter me and I take over, lowering myself onto him on my own, allowing him further and further inside of me.
- "Love me", he begs gaspingly. - "Love me!"
I moan in deep pleasure as I move all the way down, feeling all of his erect manhood inside of me, before I move up again, only to lower myself down once more. When I answer him it's more like a big gasp escaping my lips than a voice.
- "I love you, Legolas!"
I keep moving up and down, really enjoying our lovemaking. His desire quickly transforms from delicate to desperate. I can't deny that I feel the same hunger myself. Taking him here, on his throne, is so erotic, yes so naughty even, that I just want more and more. He starts to tear the rest of my clothes off while begging me to keep on riding him. And I do, first very slowly. I moan loudly as I feel the friction of him inside of me. But his eagerness pulls me along with it and I begin to ride him with longer movements while his hands make explorations all over my body. He moans my name over and over and I feel his deep breath hit my naked and exposed breasts.
There could be servants nearby, we don't know. And we don't care. Cause if anyone saw us they would not even dare to take a breath in fear to interrupt us or to let us know that they are watching. But, if they are there, I know they are watching. They would never dare to take their eyes of us either. And the fact of them maybe watching us just urges us on.
His hands are on my ass again, holding me perfectly in place, helping me with my motions while he meets me with thrusts of his own. Thrusts that make me moan sounds I didn't know that I was capable of uttering before this moment. We pick up speed. We both moan like animals now, but our primitive sounds just increase the sensation. He knows that I'm making love to him as the common man he really is, not as the Prince of Mirkwood. But he is not bothered by that fact. Because he gives me pleasure as if he were a god himself.
Our bodies collide over and over and faster and faster. The only time my breasts aren't bouncing up and down are when he takes one of them into his mouth and places such sweet, erotic kisses on them. My hands run through his long hair as his tongue plays with one of my nipples, driving me crazy with lust. We both hold each other in place, helping the other to move harder. I am soon ready to come and so is he. But none of us want this to end; it's too good to end! So we keep on going, forcing our releases to stand their grounds. We are like two fighters, battling to the death. Eventually one of us will fall before the other. But in this battle both will still stand victorious.
I stare into his blue eyes. So much pain, so much grief, so much fear - it all is just drawn away and replaced by passion, true love and total pleasure! And I'm the one giving it to him. Because he knows I love him as Legolas, not as the Prince of Mirkwood.
I can't hold it back any longer. A great, sexual release takes total control over me. I scream in pleasure. My body trembles. My orgasmic howling echoes through the throne room. But I'm not alone. My lover has joined me and I feel his pleasurable release explode from within me.
I collapse in his arms, catching my breath. He holds me closely as he starts to kiss me again, so gently yet so desperately. Even now he begs for my love. And I give it to him. I know of his solitude, his life-long fear. And I assure him that he will never be alone ever again. That I will never leave him. That he shall feel the hand of loneliness no more.
© Copyright 2003 Gia4 (Fan Fiction ID:308256). All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Gia4.
Disclaimer: All characters and settings from The Lord of the Rings belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. The rest is mine.
The air is chilly. The sun is about to set over the mighty forest of Mirkwood for yet another day and welcomes the darkness of the night to take its place. And still, as I slowly walk passed the gigantic walls inside of the majestic palace, my body just gets hotter and hotter! I follow a corridor. At the other end lies the throne room. He asked me to meet him there. I know why. And I can't wait! Yet I don't hurry. I don't want to rush in there out of breath like some exhausted animal. I want to be representative before my Prince. I want to be appealing to him. Just as he is to me. I reach the door. I stop and close my eyes for a short moment, focusing. Both his and mine expectations are high. I don't want to ruin this. I pull a deep breath and then open my eyes once more. It's time. I'm about to knock on the door just before I hesitate and then decide not to. He has his dreams, his visions, of these moments. To him I'm something unbelievable, like a resurrected Goddess. A Goddess doesn't knock on doors, not even before the Prince of Mirkwood. A Goddess simply and quietly enters and stays by the inside of the door. I don't want to spoil his fantasy. Silently I push the unlocked door open and enter. I close the door behind me.
It's so quiet. All that is heard is the life coming from outside the palace that enters the room through the windows. Sounds of birds, the wind and the elves. A sound of life and activity that is slowly fading away as it goes to sleep, one by one, for the night. I gaze to the other side of the room. He is standing there, looking out through one of the windows. As the wind is blowing all the curtains inside, I see the beauty and the breathtaking forest beyond. Right now his eyes are seeing exactly what I'm seeing. And yet the scenery is nowhere near as beautiful as the man standing in front of me.
I remain by the door. Silently. Patiently. I'm not sure if he knows of my arrival. But I refuse to disturb the moment. I leave it to him to learn of my presence. My waiting doesn't turn out to be long lasted. After just a few, silent moments, I see him move. His head drops slowly a bit. Then he turns and looks over his left shoulder. He spots me. I can't help but to tremble when I see his powerful eyes looking at me. And what eyes he has! They carry the colour of blue. His eyebrows. beautifully arched. And the gaze itself could penetrate anything in its path.
His face remains unexpressed as he turns around entirely. There is no readable sign of anything in his face at all. He seems neither happy, nor angry, nor vexed to see me. Yet I can see the emotional impact on him that my arrival has given him. He tries to hide it behind his mask as Prince. This masked face of the ruler is now right in front of me. But underneath the surface, behind the mask, I see the true man. A man I know very well. I might be the only one in the whole world who truly sees! Who truly knows!
I look at him in awe. He's a very attractive man. A man that really is still a boy. His youth is very apparent in his face. A sweetness, even an innocence, covers him like a transparent surface that allows the otherwise strong and powerful appearance to get through. Many fear his strength in the way he carries himself. But I don't. To me, his dark gaze is just an appealing attraction. To me he is beautiful.
He is dressed in green and black garments, ornamented with golden patterns, all in the finest materials to be found. The typical robe for Royalty. For a Prince. But his beauty overcomes even the finest of clothing. His long blond hair is pulled back. Styled differently, actually, compared the last time I saw him, which was two days ago. At first glance it makes his youth even more apparent. He almost looks like a sweet, little boy, even. But after that first sight it somehow changes and he suddenly seems older than his mere 2931 years.
I am uncertain if he knows of my feelings regarding that such a young person really shouldn't put his life on the line. I have still never expressed my opinion to him. My opinion would never change anything but it still exists. He's still too young for the task. Two thousand thirty-one years old is too early for anyone to be taken away. The pain would be unbearable for me. And yet, he constantly amazes me that he overcomes all difficulties. He amazes me greatly and that's why I admire him. For being so experienced and still desiring to learn so much. But this glorious quest is not easy on him. I worry as he faces great dangers. I am aware of his emotional battles raging on with many enemies around him. And not to forget, with himself. He knows, as I do, that many evil creatures lurk outside, somewhere, of these walls. But he has nothing to fear at this moment. He is with me and I'll watch over him. He knows that. As I know that I have nothing to fear when I am with him.
- "The night is getting closer", he suddenly utters. More like a whisper really. I know why he speaks so quietly. The truth behind it is embarrassing for him.
- "You sent for me, my Lord".
- "Yes, I did".
My words are unusually cold. So is his reply. Why we both are still using these formalities in private is still a mystery. It's almost as we are trying to hold on to the mystery. Or are trying to prevent anyone from knowing that we are closer than what these formalities are showing. But why are we hiding it? He's one of the most powerful men here. He is a Prince and doesn't have to answer to anyone. What could he possible fear in this life? Probably more than what even I can ever learn in my lifetime! He carries fears that only leaders could carry. And fears that a leader should never carry too. That became apparent to me once more the moment he just now mentioned the approach of the night. I know exactly what he means with that statement.
- "Will you stay with me?" he asks me. It's not a command. It's a request. Another proof of the emotional battles raging within him. I've become very good at noticing them.
- "Still having those nightmares, my Lord?"
My question does not surprise him or offend him. Not many know his secret, his childhood secret that still haunts him to this day. He's been afraid of the creatures that come to him in his dreams all his life. It has followed him like a black shadow of misery. And it has deprived him of many nights of sleep and comfort. But he has admitted it to me in total confidence. He knows that I'm not judging him. He knows that I am fully aware of where his fear comes from. Slowly he still turns his head away from me, staring into nothing. Despite my understanding, he's still ashamed of his own fear.
- "Still", he admits a little reluctantly and even manages to produce a tiny smile as he once more admits the truth to himself. - "Always". He quickly turns his gaze back to me. I see a tiny reflection of a need for comfort in his face.
- "Stay with me tonight", he begs me, even more apparently than before. His soft voice sounds so much more like the one of a boy, not like the one of a future King at all. I'm touched by the emotional impact he always has on me. It's almost like a spell. He always manages to reach my sympathy, even if he never does that on purpose.
- "You know I will", I reassure him.
I answer in obedience. But it's an obedience from the bottom of my heart! I am his servant. His loyal subject. His ally. His friend. I am his Mistress. These are all duties of mine, given to me by him. But even if he has every right and authority to, he has never forced these duties upon me. When he asks for me I always come by my own, free will. He is my Master. He is my Prince. My caretaker. My friend. He is my lover. And the man that I love.
The mask of the Royal remains on his face. But he slowly raises his right hand with his palm up towards me. Words are unnecessary. I know what he wants. I know him so well. And, by the Gods, I want to give it to him! To us both! Slowly I approach him. I reach out for his waiting hand and tremble as I feel him softly but firmly caress my left hand. I step even closer and then stop. He is a tall man. But his height is not much above my own. But his greatness lies not in his features. It lies in his spirit, within his heart. Many wonder about his feelings since he's perfected the art of masking them so well. But he does have feelings. Even a future King is capable of the greatest love. And I have been blessed with his love. I'm the only one who has.
He slowly brings my hand up to his lips. My eyes fixes the braids in his hair as he kisses my skin so sweetly. His touch, the honour to be this close to him, is overwhelming. My heart is pounding. I can hardly contain myself. I long for him. I need him! I want him! I want to love him! And to be loved by him! But somehow I can control the fire that rages within me. All that I wish for is already here. And it will be given even more to me. Very soon. But it shall be done the way as he wishes it to be. And I don't mind. His wishes are my own. He hasn't forced me or manipulated me to share his feelings. It just happened. It happened from the very moment we met. And I'm not the one to question miracles or the Gods' wills when they are at work. He could take on as many mistresses and lovers as he pleased. But he doesn't. I am the only one. To be the only lover to a mighty Royal is such an honour! And I know it's his way of proving his love for me.
His fingers release my hand. There's no need for him to be a Prince anymore this night. He knows that I'm not longing for his title. I want the man, not the his status. Until the sunrise, I will give him the chance to be himself. And I understand that that is one of the greatest gifts I can ever give to him. A gift that I so happily will give to him. Over and over again. I only wish he knew what a gift in itself that is to me in return. The mask of the Prince is slowly disappearing from his face now, fought back by the emotions from within his soul. When I look into his blue eyes it's almost like looking into my own reflection! He carries my longing, the same feelings as I feel inside. We are so much alike, him and I. And it's time that we become even more.
I keep staring into his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that just seem to get more and more emotional by each passing moment. Silently he begs for my care. For my touch. For my love. I know why his needs are so desperate. No one has ever loved him. Not truly loved him. Not in this way. I cannot explain why.
- "Then kiss me", he whispers.
Carefully I raise my hands to his face and place them on each side. I step even closer. I want him to know how much I worship him. Not only as my Prince. But simply because I love him so much. A simpleness that carries so much with it. I close my eyes in satisfaction as I place a small, delicate kiss on his lips. As I end the kiss and open my eyes again I see that his eyes are still closed and his lips are still reaching out for more. I lean in closer again and kiss him once more, just as delicate but much longer this time. This time he takes over. I feel his hands wonder up my back, embracing me closer to him. He deepens the kiss and he presses his tongue into my mouth. He moans as he makes contact with my tongue and I join him. My hands drop to his shoulders, then further along around his neck. In a moment we embrace each other tight, our kiss growing more and more passionate.
His lips drops down to my neck at the same time as his hands drops down to my backside and squeezes my buttocks. I gasp as his fingers gently caress my butt. He repeats this act. Again. And again. And again. My whole body is on fire for him. I want him so badly now. I am ready. And my roaming hands on his back tell him so. He takes a step back, looks at me, and then takes my hands as he draws me with him to the throne. He sits down and pulls me towards him. Facing him, I put one leg on each side of him as I once more enter his embrace. I sit comfortably in his lap as our bodies press at each other, our arms embracing the other. I feel his manhood press through our clothing against my crotch. It excites me even more. But once more I remain patient. I give him his time.
Sometimes all he needs is a hug. To be able to hold me close to him. To know that I'm there for him when he needs me. Hours can go by with just him holding me. And me holding him. No more, no less. I know that there will be more than just hugs this evening, but I would never rip him of this moment for anything in the whole world. I treasure it as much as he does. Feeling him pressing me to his chest is like feeling the sun on my heart for thousands of years!
He starts to kiss me again. More hungrily than before. Our hands begin to move on each other. I start to remove his clothes and they fall off him with ease, despite the fact that I'm sitting in his lap. As I run my hands over his chest and shoulders, I enjoy the delicate touch of his naked skin against my fingers as I feel him stripping of my own clothes.
Sitting half naked in his lap, his exploring and yet innocent touch, suddenly leaves my remaining clothes alone and move to my lips. I tremble as I feel his sweet touch of his fingers move over my mouth. It feels so good!
- "Open your mouth", he tells me. I obey and feel his pointer and long finger pass between my lips. Then he brings his fingers back to his own lips and tastes my flavour. His eyes are half closed, as if he was in some dream world.
- "You know I love you", he whispers.
- "And I love you", I answer him, knowing so well that he means what he tells me. He would never lie to me. And I would never lie to him.
He draws me even nearer, nibbling at my lips.
- "Say that again. Please."
I feel his desperation in his touch and hear it even more clearly in his trembling voice. He knows that I love him but he's so afraid to loose me. He constantly needs to be reminded. I kiss him back, trying to reassure him. I want him to feel secure. At peace.
- "I love you", I repeat.
His hands move once more to my now naked buttocks and pulls me upward a bit. I know what this means. He's ready. He wants me. He wants me now! I follow the command of his movements. I feel the increasing contact of his exposed, hard manhood between my legs. I make no resistance as he pulls me slowly down on him. My hands are squeezing his shoulders. I want this as much as he does. We stare into each other's eyes as our breathing increases. I feel how he starts to enter me and I take over, lowering myself onto him on my own, allowing him further and further inside of me.
- "Love me", he begs gaspingly. - "Love me!"
I moan in deep pleasure as I move all the way down, feeling all of his erect manhood inside of me, before I move up again, only to lower myself down once more. When I answer him it's more like a big gasp escaping my lips than a voice.
- "I love you, Legolas!"
I keep moving up and down, really enjoying our lovemaking. His desire quickly transforms from delicate to desperate. I can't deny that I feel the same hunger myself. Taking him here, on his throne, is so erotic, yes so naughty even, that I just want more and more. He starts to tear the rest of my clothes off while begging me to keep on riding him. And I do, first very slowly. I moan loudly as I feel the friction of him inside of me. But his eagerness pulls me along with it and I begin to ride him with longer movements while his hands make explorations all over my body. He moans my name over and over and I feel his deep breath hit my naked and exposed breasts.
There could be servants nearby, we don't know. And we don't care. Cause if anyone saw us they would not even dare to take a breath in fear to interrupt us or to let us know that they are watching. But, if they are there, I know they are watching. They would never dare to take their eyes of us either. And the fact of them maybe watching us just urges us on.
His hands are on my ass again, holding me perfectly in place, helping me with my motions while he meets me with thrusts of his own. Thrusts that make me moan sounds I didn't know that I was capable of uttering before this moment. We pick up speed. We both moan like animals now, but our primitive sounds just increase the sensation. He knows that I'm making love to him as the common man he really is, not as the Prince of Mirkwood. But he is not bothered by that fact. Because he gives me pleasure as if he were a god himself.
Our bodies collide over and over and faster and faster. The only time my breasts aren't bouncing up and down are when he takes one of them into his mouth and places such sweet, erotic kisses on them. My hands run through his long hair as his tongue plays with one of my nipples, driving me crazy with lust. We both hold each other in place, helping the other to move harder. I am soon ready to come and so is he. But none of us want this to end; it's too good to end! So we keep on going, forcing our releases to stand their grounds. We are like two fighters, battling to the death. Eventually one of us will fall before the other. But in this battle both will still stand victorious.
I stare into his blue eyes. So much pain, so much grief, so much fear - it all is just drawn away and replaced by passion, true love and total pleasure! And I'm the one giving it to him. Because he knows I love him as Legolas, not as the Prince of Mirkwood.
I can't hold it back any longer. A great, sexual release takes total control over me. I scream in pleasure. My body trembles. My orgasmic howling echoes through the throne room. But I'm not alone. My lover has joined me and I feel his pleasurable release explode from within me.
I collapse in his arms, catching my breath. He holds me closely as he starts to kiss me again, so gently yet so desperately. Even now he begs for my love. And I give it to him. I know of his solitude, his life-long fear. And I assure him that he will never be alone ever again. That I will never leave him. That he shall feel the hand of loneliness no more.
© Copyright 2003 Gia4 (Fan Fiction ID:308256). All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Gia4.