I swear to Mahal I was going to inject some plot in this story, but then the chapter ran away from me :D I promise we will have something actually happening in the next one.
K. xx
Eorwyn opened her eyes and looked at the sleeping King. He lay on his stomach, one long arm hanging off the edge of the bed. His large heavy body was spread on the sheets, covers wrapped around his lower half. His left arm was outstretched and lay across Eorwyn's stomach. She had nothing but a quarter of his bed to herself.
Eorwyn giggled. The King slept as a person exhausted physically - which perhaps was very much true.
The weight of his arm made her bladder displeased, and she started slowly sliding from under it. The King grumbled in his sleep, but remained in his deep slumber. Eorwyn minced to his bath chamber, the stone floor was cold.
While she washed her hands in a basin she looked up and saw her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes shone. The hair stood around her head like a giant dandelion, with one green ribbon sticking out of a half undone braid. She snickered again. It would take a lot of effort to tame this farrago.
She dashed back to the bedroom and slid under the covers, pulling her knees to her chest. The heat of the King's body washed over her, and she waited for it to warm her.
The night before Steward Nyr had been already waiting for her in the same hall and let her in. Dinner had already been prepared and served on a low table in the King's parlour - except they hadn't gotten to eating it for three hours.
Eorwyn threw another glance at the King's back. She wondered whether he seemed so beautiful to her because she was in love with him - or indeed he had an alluring back. He was an attractive man, by the standards of any race, but surely he was as mouth-watering as he seemed to her now!
She saw the long muscles under his smooth skin, the white scars from his old battle wounds, thick coarse hair on the forearms. She jerked her hand back. She hadn't realised she'd been stretching to touch him - and then she wondered why wouldn't she? She thought back at the Dwarven books on physical love that she'd read and that the King had laughed about her reading. It said a lover, male or female, had the right to initiate an act, and wasn't to be offended if they were refused. Expressing the desire showed affection, and it was up to the other part to either accept or decline the proposition.
Eorwyn gingerly shifted closer to him and slowly placed her palm on his shoulder. His skin was scorching. He made a displeased noise, and Eorwyn took a deep breath, forcing her hand to stay put. She then brushed at his shoulder tenderly and led her palm lower, along the upper arm, lowering her body and pressing her cheek to his shoulder blade. He was warm, and smelled of the spicy oils he added to his baths, of pipeweed smoke, and of something uniquely his, his skin, fresh, and grassy, and nutty.
"Is it morning already?" he muttered and started shifting.
"No, I think it's still very early," Eorwyn whispered. "I was awake, and..."
She pulled her hand back, up his arm, scraping his skin lightly with her nails.
"Oh," he murmured, and one bright blue eye opened.
She could see the corner of his soft lips curl up under the dark whiskers.
"Uh-huh," she sing-songed and pressed her lips to his ear. It was large, hot, and very Dwarven, which at the moment suddenly brought a realisation on Eorwyn's mind. She found Dwarven ears so very kissable!
"I'm still asleep," he murmured and closed the eye. "I need help waking up." His suggestive voice rumbled deep in his throat.
Eorwyn snorted into his shoulder and then pressed into him flush, which caused shivers to run her whole body. She was bare, and so was he.
She placed a few small kisses on his shoulder, and then, biting into her bottom lip to gather her courage, bashfulness and excitement mixed in her nerves, she put her hand on his hip - and then slipped her palm around the bone and towards the thick hair at the meeting of his thighs. His body jolted, and he groaned quietly. The tips of her fingers bumped at the root of his member, and she released a shuddered breath.
"Zardûna," the King rasped out.
Eorwyn let her fingers wrap around his hot length, and his body jerked, and his hips pushed into her hand. The feeling of power and audaciousness flooded Eorwyn, and she rolled further over his body, gaining more access, and her lips and then teeth caressing his ear, while her hand moved. He'd caressed her centre the night before, with his fingers and his lips, and she was more than willing to return the favour. She needed to climb over him completely, she thought. She licked her lips in anticipation of tasting him. She remembered the suggestions from the book, on the technique and how such actions could be offered but couldn't be demanded - but suddenly the King grabbed her hand and took it off his flesh.
"Lie down," he muttered and started turning. "I want... you."
"Are you giving more orders?" she asked with a laugh. She was apparently feeling quite daring. "My lord," she added in a salacious tone, and he stared at her.
Another throaty bark of laughter escaped her, and she pushed him on his back, pressing her hand into his shoulder, while climbing on top of him. Her arms straight, her fingers curling into his shoulders, she aligned them, feeling his scorching member twitching under her. She let him slide inside in a swift movement, her body ready and sleek for him, and moaned in pleasure. They'd lain together like this before, but their coupling had a different tone now. She had taken control - and how she enjoyed it!
She moved, in rolling, almost demanding movements, suddenly only preoccupied with her own pleasure, and he seemed to be aiding her, his hands grasping her hips, kneading her buttocks, and helping her rise and fall on him.
And then her rupture took her. She'd learnt that her body was capable of it the night before, but this fire was like no other she'd felt before. It spread through her body, making her arch, dropping her head back, with a loud scream and then a moan.
And then the King grabbed her tightly around the waist, and his thrust met her fall, and she felt his seed spill inside her. Another wave of intoxicating delight ran her body, and she fell forward, her forehead on the sheet near his head.
She exhaled loudly, and he jerked and guffawed. She'd just puffed air into the very Dwarven ear she'd been ogling before.
"What's 'zardûna?'" she asked, muffled by the sheet, and unable to lift her head.
The King's left hand lay on her back, and he started tenderly stroking.
"A witch in Khuzdul," he answered lazily. "Why?"
He yawned then, and Eorwyn straightened up with a moan. His member was still inside her, and she knew by experience that if she moved roughly now he'd hiss and jerk. She carefully rose, not to cause him discomfort, and lay near him. He immediately wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in tightly.
"I believe you've called me so, before we–" She vaguely gestured in the air.
"Oh?" He chuckled. "It's not an insult in Khuzdul. It's more of a sorceress than a hag."
Eorwyn rose on one elbow and pushed her fist under her cheek to see his face better. He looked content. Even the habitual crinkle between his brows was gone. He yawned with gusto again.
"So, you called me a witch," she pointed out again, and his body shook in quiet deep laughter.
"I suppose I have." He tapped the tip of her nose with his finger. "Perhaps I meant you were enchanting."
"Buh, what nonsense!" she scoffed, and he laughed again.
"I can't be held responsible for what I say when I'm so… preoccupied." He closed his eyes and pulled her even closer, arranging her tucked into his side. "And you are enchanting."
"Sweet talk," she muttered and closed her eyes too.
"What are you planning to do today?" he asked sleepily and burrowed his nose into her hair. "It's the Royal Family Dinner, remember."
Eorwyn sighed. "I do. And as for the day, I'm supposed to spend it with Master Svuir. He sent me a letter a week ago. He said he didn't participate in the Games or Game watching, so I was to come to his study for our usual classes."
"Old devil," the King muttered. "Just come for a meal to my study..." He yawned. "Around the first bell."
Eorwyn hummed and settled in his embrace. She was already drifting away when she heard the King mumble, 'Zardûna indeed' and chuckle. Eorwyn smiled and fell asleep.
