Chapter 1
The Cleansing
Thorin entered the water fully clothed and pressed his body tight against hers. He put his hand over her mouth and pointed across the bank where a pale warg was drinking from the stream. They lowered themselves to the surface of the water to hide, Thorin's grip never wavering. Raivynn feared she would cry out so she buried her face in Thorin's fur coat, clenching her eyes tight, trusting him to protect her. Finally, she felt his hold loosen. She glanced across the water and the beast was gone. It was safe for her and the dwarf to separate but he continued to hold her firmly.
It was then that she became acutely aware of her nakedness and his swelling manhood. She looked yearningly into his eyes and whispered what her soul had desired ever since they first met, "Take me, Thorin." She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling his arousal as he carried her to the shore. He gently lowered her to the bank, being careful to cradle her head as he lay her down. His soaking clothes only magnified his weight on top of her, pressing her small frame into the dirty ground. He wandered her face with his mouth, kissing her eyelids, cheek, chin, and neck, slowly working his way down. His rough, strong hands cupped the soft tissue of her breasts kneading it ever so gently, then trailing a line of pulsing warmth everywhere they explored.
Her heart began to pound and swell in her chest and her whole body trembled uncontrollably beneath him. Thorin, in his dark, coarse voice said so tenderly "Shall I stop, my lady?" Through her quivering breath she could only reply, "Never." He continued down her body and the sensation of his beard scratching on her tender stomach and soft inner thigh nearly drove her over the edge. As he reached the parting of her thighs, he lifted her legs over his shoulders and began exploring her sex with his tongue. Raivynn had to dig her hands into the moist earth and bite down hard on her lower lip to keep from moaning into the night. Her back arched as the wetness of his mouth went farther inside her. She began to lose control of her breathing and just when she thought that she would swoon from the pleasure, he stopped.
Without breaking his piercing gaze, he exposed his massive, swollen length and thrust it deep, her thighs and walls reflexively gripping him and pulling him even deeper. She could feel her body stretch around his shaft, fitting and molding itself to him. Her king filling her this way, with such passion in his eyes... it was almost too much to bear. With every thrust his long hair brushed her chest and face. It smelled of blood and smoke and fire. They were both close now and as she griped the sinewy flesh of his back she could feel his battle scars, proof of the horrors that had hardened him to the world. And yet as he rode her, she could see the years of pain, doubt and fear melting from his face.
As they climaxed, her breath caught in her lungs, and was released in a soft moan. His entire body stiffend then collapsed in ectasy on her breast, his warm seed, Durin's seed, inside her in the chilled night. She ran her fingers through his hair, stroking his head. Weak from the exertion, she whispered, "My king." Thorin smiled with a warmth that would melt stone like dragonfire and growled "My queen."