A/N: Bwahaha, dearreader, smut cliffhanger :D And yes, cliffhanger is my middle name ;)

Good thing with me you don't really have to wait for an update for long, aye? ;)


The tunic slid off his body, she threw it away, and her palms finally lay on his scorching skin. She grazed his shoulders, and then her hands tentatively stroked his sides. Wren was astonished, by how corporeal he felt, and how beautiful he seemed to her. She had never seen a bare torso of a Dwarf, they had never been among her patients, and even a few instants ago she had a secret doubt whether she would enjoy his physiology. The body was wide, heavy, but made of solid muscles, strong tendons, and somehow that had not been on Wren's mind before, his chest was covered in thick coarse hair, stripe of it going down his stomach and disappearing in his trousers. He was looming over her, his hands now pressed into the mattress on two sides of her body, arms straight, and she smiled into his widened, frantic eyes.

"You are so beautiful, Thorin..." His eyebrows jumped up, and she could see his features soften.

"And you are, ushkatul," he smiled in return, and she opened her knees, the hem of her robe slid up to her thighs, and he carefully lay between them. "Am I heavy?"

"Yes," she smiled wider, "In the best possible way." He snorted and caught her mouth again. She slightly turned her head inviting him to explore to his own pleasure, and soon she felt his hot mouth on the side of her jaw, then neck, and he returned the favour of several minutes ago and caught her earlobe between his lips.

"How much time do you think we have, zunshel?" He asked raspily, and it took her a few moments to gather her wits enough to make an assumption.

"I would assume all night… My night… But time moves differently here..." He was now moving down her body, first his nose brushed her clavicles in the collar he had unlaced before, and then she felt his fingers fidgeting with her belt. "If indeed I control this place, we have as much as we want… As much as I want..."

"I know little of it, zunshel, but I gather we will not need all night..." His palms were suddenly on her thighs, under the skirt, and her whole body jolted. He was also placing kisses on her stomach, through the robe, and she understood he had halted. She looked at him and saw him frowning. He was clearly unsure how to proceed, and considering his words he was now remembering what they said of a man's first time of intimacy. She could not allow him to forget his fire of moments ago, and she twisted and picked up her tunic. He moved away, letting her to sit up and take it off. There was a thin gauzy shift under it, plain and unalluring, and drawers, the same white linen ones she wore every day, dull and prudish, and she blushed. Surely, at least in her fantasies she could have conjured something more enticing! But the King was not looking at her garb, his eyes fell on her breasts, and she felt tingly head to toe. His eyes were hungry and, although she did not dare to hope, very much approving.

"You are so gentle, ushkatul, like a dove's wing..." Wren smiled shakily, overwhelmed and surprised by such poetic words from the severe King. "Will I not hurt you, when..?" He trailed away, and she moved closer to him. He was sitting on his knees, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, mimicking his pose.

"You will not, much depends on a woman's desire… And I desire you..." She pushed through her own embarrassment, he was clearly in need of encouragement, and then his fingers hooked at the hem of the slip.

"May I?.." His voice raspy, he hesitantly ran the tips of his fingers on her skin on the thighs, not lifting the hem, and she felt even more enamoured with him for his considerate asking for consent.

"Yes, Thorin, you may." He pulled gently, and then the chemise flamboyantly flew after his shirt. She giggled, the gesture was so unexpected from him, and he smiled to her widely. And then his eyes dropped, he gave her an attentive look, and she felt her skin flush, and almost painful embarrassment overcoming her. She also felt an acute desire to cover up, and then his hands cupped her breasts. Wren gasped, from the heat and calloused skin brushing at her sensitive peaks, and then he tenderly kissed her lips.

"Abnamul…" Throaty sounds of Khuzdul fell off his lips, "Beautiful… So beautiful..." His voice was reverential, and she threw her arms around his neck and pressed into him. Her teats, taut and sensitive, grazed the scratchy chest hair, and goosebumps covered her skin.

"We need to lie down," she choked out, and pulled at his neck, "I need to… I cannot wait anymore, Thorin… Please..." Her voice was high-pitched, she was on fire, and thankfully he was as well, and he suddenly picked her up under her buttocks, shifted, sat down on the bed, and placed her on his lap. Her legs went around him, and she could not even gather how it happened, but she grabbed his shoulders greedily and ground her pelvis into him. Two thoughts flashed in her mind. That now he had every right to think her wanton, and that she should have guessed that a Dwarf would be that well endowed considering the length and thickness of their extremities. She felt his length, and impressive girth, through the soft fabric of his trousers, and she suddenly felt almost relieved it was but a dream. She could not be certain her physical body would be able to receive him.

He was kissing her shoulder, and she twisted from under his mouth, and pushed her hands down, between their bodies. There were strings on his trousers, and she worked them quickly. Under them she did not find any breeches, and her fingers bumped into his flesh. He made a low growl like noise, and she exhaled gathering her courage, and stroked the hot length with the tips of her fingers.

"Mahal help me..." He breathed out, and then the cerulean eyes focused on her. "Do not touch me, ushkatul, not like that… I will not last..." She leaned in and kissed him shortly but passionately.

"You could lie down, and I would..." She stumbled over her words, suddenly mortified that perhaps Dwarven men did not approbate such positions. Perhaps they were to be in charge at all times, and she wondered whether she had just insulted him. He was pondering it, and she started mumbling that surely they did not have to, when he carefully picked up under her arms again and lay back. She was now straddling him, and their feet were somehow on the pillows, but she cared not.

The King Under the Mountain was spread under her, hair scattered on the sheets, eyes open and vulnerable, studying her movement, and she threw all caution and shame away, and sliding down his legs, she grabbed the waist of his trousers and pulled them off.

Indeed, she should be relieved it was just a dream, she thought, such opulence would be simply painful, and she shortly wondered how palpable her bedding him would even be.

"Zunshel, you are not moving..." His as if nonchalant observation shook her out of her gawking of his member, and she looked up. His cheekbones were flaming, quite clearly from acute embarrassment, and to reassure him she threw the trousers off the bed and then rising on her knees she picked up the waist of her drawers. His eyes immediately fell on them, and she bit into her bottom lip. It was too late to flee now, and she closed her eyes and pushed the undergarment down.

She was frozen, suddenly having lost all her spirit, when the massive searing arms of the King Under the Mountain wrapped around her, and he pulled her down, and onto him, she made a funny croak like sound, and her eyes flew open.

"We are almost there, zunshel. And as tremulous as I am, I am rather in a rush," one of the brows crawled up, and suddenly Wren felt merry.

"You do not look tremulous..." Her tone was flirtatious, and he smiled to her.

"I am not, I was trying to hearten you, ushkatul. I have lost my fears when I saw this," his palm stroked her hip, and a shudder ran through her body. "And this," the same palm cupped her buttock, and she suddenly felt heat pooling between her legs, fiery hunger and giddy anticipation, and she sat up sharply on him, feeling her juices on the inner sides of her thighs, and she pressed her hands into his chest.

The world around them stilled, their eyes locked, a small smile trembling in the corners of their lips, and all she felt was love, and trust, and longing, and anticipation, and she shifted her hips, and as if in the thousandth of times his length slid into her, smoothly, stretching her, but causing no pain. They both moaned, loudly, without restriction, her cry high and triumphant, his throaty and as if bearing surprise, and she froze, savouring the moment. She was acutely aware of his heart booming under her palm, and the heat of his body, and she hurriedly opened her eyes to see his face. His eyes were closed, eyebrows hiked up, and altogether the King looked… flabberghasted. Obviously pleased, but flabberghasted.

Wren giggled. She did not want to, if given a choice she would prefer to delegate other emotions to the man underneath her, she would wish him to know how much in awe she was from the feeling of connectedness and closeness she was flooded with now that they were united in flesh, but this very surprised expression on his face just did not leave her any choice. A snort escaped her, and she sank teeth into her bottom lip to suppress her inappropriate frolics.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. She felt suddenly terrified, that he would doubt her fervour, that he would not know how elated she was at that moment, and she opened her mouth to reassure him, when he emitted a very pensive 'hm.'

"Hm?" Wren repeated, clearly inviting him to clarify, and he met her eyes.

"It is not what I expected," his tone was utterly sober, and Wren was suddenly taken aback. She might as well admit it now, she had been feeling rather smug, she had felt she was the experienced one here, showing him the pleasures of carnal matters, opening this new world to him, and now he was lying under her, his face thoughtful, quite clearly listening to some unknown sensations in his body, and she felt almost irritated.

"I am sorry I have disappointed you, my lord," her answer came out much more lippy that she intended, and she bit her tongue, but it was too late. He gave her a studying look and then suddenly sat up, his arms wrapped around her middle firmly, and he pecked her lips.

"Do not gibe, ushkatul, I was merely relieved I had some control over my body and our act had not ended before it even started," he spoke mollifyingly, and feeling immediately more at ease she leaned in and kissed him tenderly.

"There would have been nothing embarrassing about it, such is the physiology of men." She slightly shifted her hips and with pleasure noted the sturdy hot length inside her. "But apparently not of the Khazad. You are maintaining your arousal while having a conversation with me, that is hard, hard work..." She realised that she was purring into his ear, and since it was clearly making him even more aroused, she did what she had been dreaming about for quite a while. She ran the tip of her tongue on the helix of his large Dwarven ear, and he growled.

"It is indeed time we move," she whispered into his ear, and then some memories from her previous experience returned to her, and she tentatively clenched her inner muscles. He barked some word in Khuzdul she could guess was not suitable for proper society, and she felt his arms tighten around her.

She moved her legs, pressing her knees into the bed now, grabbed his shoulders and rocked into him for the first time.