Hello! Brief announcements regarding this story! I shifted the medical narrative for Kristin from hemophilia to a liver transplant in order to flesh out her back story a little more. A little odd, but I have my reasons. There is no dramatic plot altering differences with these but feel free to go back and read if you'd like! With that being said, let's move on to today's chapter! It is lemony, so be aware of that! I usually do review responses but I have given myself only 15 minutes now to get ready to leave for work so they must wait until next time! 3 I love the feedback this story is receiving, and I love all of you for support! Hope you're having a wonderful start to your October and I can't wait to see how y'all like this most recent update. :D
The house is dark and empty as he races his inside. He doesn't bother flicking on any of the lights as he slips off his shoes and I barely have time to kick mine off. They bounce off his legs as I kick them off using my heels. I'm still over his shoulder as he saunters down the hall toward my bedroom. Thank God I actually took a few minutes to tidy it up and make the bed this morning.
Not bothering to turn on any lights, he drops me onto the bed and goes to close and lock the door. I waste no time and as the lock clicks into place and he turns around, I hop off the bed and rush him, clasping his stubbled cheeks in my hands and guiding his lips to mine. They crash onto me, and he tastes like alcohol and mint. For a moment, I swear I see stars, even behind closed eyes. Dear God if this is what kissing him does to me what will…
In one fluid motion, he grabs my hips and spins to push me against the door, rattling the art hanging on either side. One of his large hands pins both of mine above my head as he continues to ravage my lips, face, and neck with fervent kisses.
He moves to kiss me but stops and hovers a few inches away from my swollen lips. I lean forward, hungry to taste more of him yet he holds me back. I push toward him with my chest since he still has my hands pinned above my head and he smiles devilishly as a laugh rumbles low in his throat.
"What?" he teases. "Was there something you wanted just then?"
God, we've only kissed and the throbbing between my legs is already enough to make my knees buckle. Deciding I can't wait any longer, I lift my right leg and swing it up and around his waist, drawing him into me so his hardened member presses against my groin. His eyes, though wild with primal need, flicker with surprise. I take it I've impressed him with such a bold gesture. I push my pelvis forward and he moans at the pressure on his growing erection. He drops my hands and I loop them around his neck as he captures my mouth once more with his and draws my other leg up and around his waist so now all of my weight is in his strong, muscular arms.
He crosses the room with ease and drops onto the edge of the bed. I straddle his waist and watch hungrily as he strips off his tee shirt to reveal the rippled tawny skin underneath. I drag a fingernail down his taught chest muscles, slowly, skimming down the line between his abs into the bronze hairs that curl around his navel and disappear into the waist band of his jeans. Before I have the chance to push him down on to the sheets, he grabs my wrists and arches an eyebrow.
"Kristin, as much as I appreciate your fervor I am a gentlemen."
I laugh, "and what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"It means," he says as he slips his fingers under the hem of my tank top. He pauses and awaits the slight nod from me before he continues dragging the fabric up slowly. I have to fight the instinctive urge to bat his hand away. I rarely take my shirt off in front of people due to the hideous scarring on my stomach but for whatever reason I don't flinch when his fingers skim over the skin there. Instead, my body shudders under his gentle touch, craving more. He pulls the tank over my head and casts it aside. "That women get treated first."
His glimmering eyes glide over my body and I'm both extremely self-conscious and grateful. Self-conscious because maybe he hadn't felt the scar tissue when he'd taken my shirt off and at any moment he'd recoil from me once he sees it. And then grateful because I'd worn the one cute bra Lana had made me buy the last time we were at Victoria Secret. It's strapless and made of glittering black lace. Boromir says nothing as he runs his fingers through the ends of my hair. I swallow as his fingertips drag across my neck and between my breasts where they stop to gently tug at the silver VS charm dangling between the lightly padded cups and in one quick motion, he snaps open the clasp, and my cleavage spills out.
His calloused palm slides across my back and he pulls me closer. I allow my head to fall back and my eyes to close as he draws one of my breasts into his mouth. I cry out as his tongue flicks the taut nipple, awakening hundreds of nerve endings that send electric shocks throughout my entire body. I cry out again as the fingers on his opposite hand find and toy with the other nipple. Between his hand and quick tongue, I'm a live wire. The pressure in my lower abdomen swells and I bite my lip. There's no way. There's no WAY you're about to finish from titty play, Kristin. Scratch that. Play is the wrong word. Titty taunting is more like it. He's taunting them, taunting you. He knows you're close to finishing and he's enjoying every second of it knowing he can get you this hot and bothered from your tits alone.
I snap out of my inner monologue as he tightens his left arm around my frame to spin and slam me back on to the sheets. The breath expels from my lungs as I hit the pillows and take in his chiseled face, half shadowed in what moonlight streams through the gossamer curtains. He straddles my hips, and I can't help but notice the bulge in his jeans begging to be freed. I lock eyes with him and lunge forward to grasp his erection, but my fingers barely brush the dense fabric before my wrist is once more pinned under his large hands.
He tsks. "Did you think I was done with you?"
My breasts tingle with excitement at the words. Already, I miss the feel of his tongue and fingertips showing no mercy to their peaked tips.
Before I can respond, he pounces and once more draws me in to his mouth. Immediately, the fire reignites in my belly and pulses with pure passion that thurms from my navel to groin. As he works wonders on my nipples with his mouth, his fingers unbutton my jeans. My hips buck in response as he begins shimmying them down the curve of my hips. Once they're off his fingers glide over the front of my panties, wet already from pleasure. I whimper as his fingers brush over the delicate bundle of nerves that instantly makes me see stars.
"Oh my God," I moan. He nips at my breast and suckles my neck as his fingers slide underneath the lace and rubs small circles over and over til my chest heaves and I cry out. My left hand grips the sheets, my right his neck and hair.
"Don't stop!" I cry into his neck. He growls with satisfaction knowing he has me right where he wants me.
"I wouldn't dream of it," he growls in my ear.
Just when I think I can't take anymore, two fingers delve inside me while his thumb continues circling my clit. Spots dot the edge of my vision as my inevitable climax crescendos; harder, faster, stronger until my body shudders and shakes as the final bars of this sexual symphony play out and I feel like I'm floating on cloud nine. I gasp for air and blindly reach for the hem of his jeans. When my fingers curl around his belt loops, I clench my abs. Using all the strength I can muster as aftershocks wrack my body, I roll him to the side and use my hips to leverage the rest of his body underneath mine.
A copper-colored brow arches and the corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk. I mirror his expression and place a finger over his lips when he opens them to speak.
"Shhhhh," I breathe. I press my hands against his chest and slowly lower myself so my breasts brush against him. I kiss him once and draw my tongue across his jawline, stopping at the ear which I gently nip. "It's my turn."
His smirk deepens and he surrenders himself to me.
I sit back on my heels and make quick work of the button on his jeans. My jaw drops as his erection forces the zipper open on its own and his massive cock spills out.
The words fall out before I can stop myself. "You're going commando in jeans?!"
His brow furrows as he kicks them off. "Is this a trick?" he asks amusedly. "Commando? Do you mean commander? Which I'm not, remember? I'm a Captain. Am I supposed to talk now? I thought there was a no talking rule."
I roll my eyes and wrap my fingers around the shaft. I smirk as his eyes briefly unfocus and his mouth snaps shut. That shut him up. Excellent work, Kristin. He blinks twice and groans as I gingerly begin to pump my arm.
"Correct," I say coyly. "You're not supposed to talk. In fact," I continue as I lower my mouth and swirl my tongue around the tip of his cock. "I think it's better if neither of us talk right now." I take him into my mouth, and he moans languidly as his fingers tangle into my hair. I smile as I work him over with my own hand/mouth combo.
When I taste more and more of his salty secretions I know he's getting close. I pull my lips off and straddle his hips. I lock onto his eyes, buzzing bright blue with electricity, and guide him into me as I lower down onto his cock. We both moan as he bucks his hips, burying himself deeper into me. He grips my waist as I ride him, grinding my hips up and down as we fall into a rhythm. We start slow and steady and quickly pick up the pace as the intensity builds between the two of us. Knowing he's going to finish sets me ablaze and I feel my own climax building.
Boromir suddenly embraces me and pulls me down onto this sweat slicked chest. He lets out a choked breath as his whole-body tenses. I feel him pulse within me as his orgasm bursts and mine quickly follows suit. Our bodies shake and shudder until we're spent, and we relax into one another, a tangle of limbs and skin and…oh my good God I just had sex with one of the most famous fantasy characters to ever exist.
"Kristin, that was remarkable!" Boromir draws me in and kisses my temple.
I sigh breathily and lean into him. "You were remarkable. No one has touched me like that before." Well, touched me like that with tenderness or any indication that they cared about my pleasure. A similar thought must cross Boromir's mind because his eyes flicker to and away from the scar on my cheek. He knows I see and apologizes.
"It's okay," I reply, and I mean it.
"Please tell me if I'm ever too rough or if I do something that's not to your liking." He says softly and the sincere concern in his voice melts my heart.
"Well," I smile and lazily run my hand up and down his bicep. "I promise you that everything that just happened right then was to my liking."
His eyes crinkle as he smiles. "I'm glad."
My fingers touch raised jagged skin and I pull my hand away. I raise my head off the pillow and look at the scar I'd just brushed. A rough line cuts across the middle of his bicep, fading out into a thin straight line that curves into his inner arm.
"How'd this happen?" I ask as I trace the line and recline back onto the pillow.
"Orc." He answers plainly. "An ugly bastard, too," he adds, amusement glimmering in his eyes.
I stifle a laugh and he continues, his features hardening slightly. "He may have left his mark, but for me it serves as a reminder that I saved six of my men that day."
"Wow," I breathe. Listening to him describe his experience in battle makes my head spin. I can't imagine going up against literal monsters with only a sword to defend myself. Arm me with any of my granddad's guns and I still don't think I'd be anything but scared shitless going up against orcs.
"Do you ever get scared?" I ask.
He pauses and for a brief moment and his eyes seem far away. His expression softens though as he nods his head. "Of course, I get scared. Any man that says otherwise is a liar."
"Well," I say. "If I ever come face to face with an orc, just start planning my funeral."
He laughs and his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Nonsense! You're strong and capable. All you need are skills with a blade."
I feel my brows creep toward my hairline. "Me?" I gawk. "Handle a sword? Jesus, yours alone is as long as my legs and half my weight to boot."
He waves me off. "Once you get the basics down, it takes mere weeks of practice before you're ready for battle." He rolls over me and shakes my shoulders, really emphasizing his excitement for battle.
I groan under his weight and slap his chest. "Get off me you giant ass!" The bed creaks as he rolls back to his previous spot on the bed.
"I'll teach you." He offers.
"Yeah, you'll teach me. Ok." I say sarcastically.
"I'm serious! It'll be exciting."
I laugh. "I think you and I have different meanings of the word 'exciting.'"
He rolls onto his side, bending his elbow so he can rest his face in his hand and look at me. "What about you?" he asks, changing the subject. "How'd you get your scar? If you were from my time, I'd consider you a the most fearsome warrior to have come out of a fight with a badge of honor like that."
I breathe in deeply having hoped against hope that he would be the first person to see me without a shirt and not ask about it. Yet, here I am, mistaken once more.
Boromir must sense my unease because he reaches across the sheets and tucks a loose wave of hair behind my ear. "You don't have to tell me," he says quietly, "but you can. If you want to."
The sincerity in his tone really makes me feel as if I can open up to him. If you can open your legs to him, surely you can open your heart a little bit, my subconscious bites. He's nice! An arrogant asshole sometimes, but a loveable asshole. Come on, Kristin, don't push him away too! I take another deep breath, inhaling our sweat tinged scents; pine and coffee combined with my jasmine perfume. It reminds me of everything that had just taken place; how good and right it had felt. I hadn't slept with or really been involved with anyone since Liam, and that had been two years ago. Sure, I'd gone on a few dates with guys Lana had set me up with, but none of them held my interest for more than a few days at best. Who knew all it would take for you to regain an interest in men would be for them to literally fall into your lap from another dimension?
Boromir's eyes remain understanding albeit the glint of disappointment lingering in the depths of his cool gaze lets me know I need to say something before I lose the trust we've been building. Maybe my subconscious is on to something. If I can entrust the pleasure and care of my body to him in such a vulnerable way, why not my body's history and the weight that comes with it? Honestly, at this point, what do I even have to lose…your sanity, perhaps? Remember you did just fuck a fictional man. Maybe that's good for you though in the long run. After all, if he can fall out of the sky, maybe he can shoot back on up there, and he can take all your sad little life anecdotes with him.
A sudden sadness washes over me at thought of Boromir not being here with me. Nope, not going there right now. I shake my head and lick my lips, swallowing before I finally part my lips to speak.
"Eight years ago," I begin and a brief look of surprise flickers across Boromir's face, but he doesn't say anything. "I had a liver transplant, which I doubt is a thing where you come from. What it boils down to though, is they took a portion of my liver to give to my father. His liver was failing on account of his inability to stop drinking. It's called cirrhosis." I'm talking with my hands now. "The liver's healthy tissue just, dies. So, by taking a portion of my healthy liver and transplanting it into his body, that healthy tissue was able to give him back a healthy, working liver."
Boromir's eyebrows furrow. "So, you saved his life, then?"
I nod somberly and his face lights up. "How noble! Kristin, you're a hero!" His eyes search mine and I watch the light fade from them as confusion washes over his expression. "What's the matter?"
"You're right, I did save him."
"Then what's the matter?" he asks again.
I breathe a shaky sigh and stare down at the ring on my middle finger. I grip the sheets and flinch as Boromir places one of his large hands over mine. Though the gesture catches me off guard, I immediately relax as the warmth of his palm bleeds into my muscles, putting my swirling mind at ease.
"The transplant was a success and I guess it gave him a new lease on life. Almost as soon as he was discharged from the hospital he ditched the bottle, ditched me and my brother, ditched this town, and started a new family in Portland, Oregon all the way across the fucking country. I've got two half siblings half my age and I've never even met them."
"Oh, Kristin," Boromir whispers my name. "A father should never betray their child's trust."
I laugh bitterly and sit up, dragging the sheet around my chest and position myself on the edge of the bed away from Boromir's face so he can't see the annoyingly hot tears burning the backs of my eyes. "Organ theft definitely does take betrayal to whole new level, doesn't it?" I know it wasn't really organ theft, but it sure does feel like it when you the whole picture is painted.
"Where was your mother during this time?"
A tear drops from my right eye, and I quickly bat it away with the back of my hand. "Mom was always one of those free spirit types." I wave my hand away from me. "Never could be contained, had to roam, and all that bullshit. So, this town was always way too small for her. She and my dad divorced when I was twelve and she packed up and left for Europe. We'd get postcards in the mail two or three times a month for the first few years from whatever country had reeled her in next. It didn't take long before the letters came less and less, with more and more time between each one. I eventually stopped looking for them and Drew stopped telling me. I haven't seen her since, so as far I'm concerned both of my parents are dead to me."
I feel the mattress shift under me as Boromir slides across the bed to place a hand on my back. I close my eyes and lean into it, soaking in the comfort it provides. "My grandparents raised us after that. They were the ones cheering for me as I walked across the stage at my high school and college graduations. They were the ones who celebrated me every year on my birthday. So, yeah, that's my family. Or at least they were until very recently." I say that last part softly, more so to myself even than to Boromir. Not wishing to dwell on their deaths, I inhale a breath of air and quickly blow it out through my nose, feeling myself recompose as everything finally comes to light. "And that's a lot I know, especially right after," I wave my hand back and forth between us before gesturing toward the bed.
Amusement flickers across Boromir's cool eyes as one copper eyebrow arches playfully. "Having intercourse with a Captain of the guard?"
I let out a choked laugh and feel my cheeks flush red. "Yes, having…intercourse." I drop my head in my hands and continue laughing. "Oh my god I can't believe I just dumped my purse all over the counter right after sex. What a fucking cliché, oh man."
I whip around a shove Boromir's arm out from under his chin, knocking him off balance. "This is your fault!"
His eyes widen as his mouth drops open in disbelief. "Me?" he scoffs. "What did I do?"
I laugh and lunge for him again except this time he's ready and he dodges my hand, smiling widely as he grips my wrist and pulls me down against the hard planes of his chest.
I wriggle against his strong arms to no avail and resort to using my head to headbutt his left pectoral. "You asked about my scar. I mean, it's no ugly orc bastard…well, no. Actually, go ahead and throw my dad in there with the orcs, he'd fit right in."
Boromir laughs deeply beneath me, and the movement gently shakes me side to side as he keeps me pinned on top of him. I start wriggling again and he releases his grip on me, allowing me to roll off of him, though I don't stray too far from his side. I nestle in against him and rest my head on his chest. "That's it," I breathe against him, feeling like I can wipe my hands clean from everything I'd been holding in for years and it surprises me, how light I feel. "That's my story."
"Thank you for trusting me," Boromir says quietly. Long fingers begin to gently comb through my hair, and I relax even deeper into his body, suddenly realizing how tired I am. I glance at the clock and the numbers flash back a reading of 1:06AM. My eyelids grow heavy. As they flutter shut and I drift off to sleep in the arms of a fantasy lover, I can't help but wonder if I'd just made one of the best decisions or worst mistakes of my life.