Dear Reader, this chapter is Not Safe for your Place of Employment. Enjoy some magical exchanges of a sexual nature, and some light magical binding of an erotic nature.
Weightless in his arms, he carried her toward the fireplace, flames obeying his unspoken command as they lit of their own accord in the grate. They danced merrily, a wave of warmth swallowing her as he set her body down on the furs that covered the floor. His face glowed like fire itself, alive and heated, sparks of gold and orange reflected in the swirling green of his eyes as heslowly smirked. His fingers made quick work of her soaked bodice and dress, her drenched stockings and garments.
Like the fair frost of spring, like purest alabaster and lime mined by the dwarves in the deep, her skin so pale, she looked like the light itself that flowed in her veins. That light magic that he wanted to taste again, so sweet and innocent, energizing and reviving. Addicting. He longed for nothing more than to weird her magic with her again. Soon, he bit his tongue to quell his inward tug of dark desire to take it all and leave nothing for her. Soon they would be binded, King and Queen of Mordor, of the Southlands, equal in their workings of light and power.
Her eyes, deep pools of blue, glimmered in the light. The delicate tip of her tongue wetted her lips as she watched him undress by shining firelight. Streaks of red and gold shone in his hair, and the warmth of the fire sent darting shadows over the curves and planes of this chest, his stomach, and his cock. Reaching for her, he gripped her by the shoulder, sitting her into his lap and bringing her mouth to his in a kiss.
"Should you not be wary of this between us again?" Galadriel whispered, her voice halting as delicious shivers ran down her body, his hands tracing every inch of her back.
"Your power is formidable," he sneered ever so slightly at her left hand where that silver band still gleamed. "But I have a solution." Closing his eyes, he held his hand between them, in the small space enclosed by their bodies. She heard his mouth whisper, hissing, hushing words of Black Speech again. His fingers grew black like ash, the shadowy darkness spreading up to his elbow and down to his palm where the densest of black pooled and swirled. Something sat in his palm, black as night, rounded like a jewel. Eyes flashed open once more, that flaming red color and slitted pupil gaze returning her own.
Her breath froze, the stench of magic thick in her nose, choking her air. Every hair on her body stood up, warning her to beware. Like prey that senses its predator.
"You have given me a taste of your magic, my Lady of the Light," he smirked at the name. "I reciprocate the chance," he rasped, "a chance to taste but a fraction of my power, or at the very least a chance to subdue your sweet ring from stealing your consciousness once more." That tooth-bearing grin was brought all the closer as he gripped her chin in his other hand. His touch feather light, stroking the crest of her cheek, all the while he looked down at her with those flame red eyes, unblinking.
Her throat went dry, her heart pounding at a gallop. Hand shaking, she reached for the ember of darkness in the extended palm. But it hovered, hesitating.
"Do you desire it?" Sauron breathed, pressing his lips against the crook of her neck, his breath dancing on her skin.
"I cannot deny it," she whispered. "But…"
Her head gently leaned into the stubble of where his chin and cheek nuzzled into the crook of her shoulder, her neck.
Warm, damp breath flowed on her neck again, his lips running on her skin, placing a tender kiss just at the base of her pointed ear. "There is nothing to fear, I only offer a sliver of my power," he chuckled, turning the warning words of Nenya into a phrase that sent shivers down her spine and curled her toes. "And though I will demand certain things from you, I will not demand its return. My power will be for you to savor, to enjoy." Teeth gently gripped the lobe of her ear, nipping her tenderest spot and releasing a moan from her lips.
Wandering his free fingers through the top of her floating and extended hand, he brought her palm closer to the fragment of power. Swirls of inky dark flowed into her outstretched fingers, their purest white absorbing the black, but her skin remained like alabaster. With every wisp of dark magic under her skin, each sense of her body heightened. Vision sharpened, she could see the pulsing of Sauron's power, a gentle thrum like a heartbeat, crackling and sparking behind his eyes. Scent overpowered her, everywhere she smelled his earthen smoke, and another scent, like the summer lilies of Valinor, heady in perfume. Intoxicating.
His voice chuckled within her head. "That is the scent of your magic, the blossoms of Valinor, the buds bathed in eternal light. And yes, it is irresistible to me," his voice rasped in unsatisfied desire. This time, his mouth pressed against her, his tongue slipping between her lips, sending shockwaves through her core at the contact. His taste was more delicious than she knew him to be, aromatic to her own taste, just from his kiss.
Like she drank too much wine, the more he kissed her, the more the room swam, a pulse filling her body with its own wanton need. He pushed against her, laying her back down into the puddle of black furs that spread before the orange flicker of fire in the grate. The pops and hisses of the burning wood only enhanced the liquid, molten desire that ached in her belly, between her legs.
Against any semblance of control, she breathed a sigh of relief as he laid between her legs, his weight bearing down on her, with delicious pressure.
His very being, his magic, molded within her mind, not a flicker of resistance from her light, and Nenya remained at bay, barely stirring in protest. Not a trace of pain in his face as he filled her both in body and her mind, filled to bursting with his magic and his manhood. She let out a gasp, every nerve in her body crying out for more.
"That pulse of my power does wonders for you," he whispered in her mind. "I think you are more than ready for me to complete the rest of my promise to you I made on the hill earlier…" In a single breath, her hands flew on their own above her head, tethered by rings of blackened mist to the floor. She strained against the magic, but those eyes only smiled at her, amused and flicking in oranges and light in perfect unison with the fire beside them.
She was bound, fast and firmly, unable to move her arms. Another wave of his power and the same tug and restraint wrapped around her ankles, pinning them to the floor, bending and spreading her knees in the process. Tethered beneath him, he denied her any chance to move or to even so much as touch his skin.
He laughed, scratching her neck, her cheek with his beard. His hands ran over every inch of her body, his laugh deep in his throat, relishing the feel of supple flesh, scoring his nails down her sides, over her hips and belly. "What luxury to touch my lover, he flashed her a tooth-filled grin, bringing his hands to rest interlocked with hers where they remained pinned far above her silken hair that spilled into the furs. Then he plunged deep within her. Her hips rose to meet him, her feet unmoving and trapped by his magic.
Every thrust made her cry out, her wrists and ankles fighting against his magic for freedom. Freedom to touch his skin, to stoke his hair, to wrestle him down and do the same to him.
His laugh brushed against her mind again. "Oh, you are even more of a temptress when my power flows inside you," he rasped. "I can see your every thought, feel your every spasm of pleasure like it is my own." They rocked faster, pounding delight racing to her curling toes as their breaths drew more ragged with each thrust. She forced her eyes open, staring at that red- orange slitted gaze, his sight observed every flex of her muscle, every shake of her breath and every lick of her wetting her lips in exertion. His hands wandered everywhere, almost feeling more than merely two on her body as he touched her sides, her hips, raking his nails and scoring her flesh in rising welts.
Pain barely flashed through her, mingling sweetly with the pleasure she drew from within, a rising wave that began drowning her. Release came swiftly, her cries sticking to her throat in punctuated gasps. Spasm after delicious spasm shooting through her.
Something deep inside her stirred, awoken. Its weight bore down, sinking and growing with heat and darkness. Sauron paused, his eyes widening in realization as he stared down at her, then, a smile spread slowly over his lips. His magic was taking hold, he knew. Bracing himself, he held his breath, ready for her onslaught.
Magic restraints broke with ease, a flash of cold light illuminating the room for a second as she flipped him on his back. She rolled him over, tumbling on top of him with a satisfied smirk on her swollen lips.
"Now," she gloated, straddled over his lap as she was, "let us see how to return the favor." Extending her fingers, waves of black tendril grew, pushing the great muscle of his arms above his head, the twin of what magic had trapped her.
"You know I could release these with some effort, Galadriel," he scoffed, "But I'm enjoying your games far too much. "
"We will see how much you enjoy this," she whispered in return.
"If only you could see yourself, Mélin," he gave a lazy, seductive grin. "It is enough to enjoy your beauty alone."
"Then perhaps just watching will suffice," she gave him a decidedly wicked grin, sitting back on her heels from where she remained straddled above him. His glowing eyes widened, drinking in every movement her hands made across her purest alabaster skin as she touched herself. Her satisfied smile spread wider as he tried to pull against his own binding to join her hands with his own. His chorded arms bulged as he struggled to lift them from the ground. Hands of white now wandered from her body over the muscles of his, exploring every groove, every dip and curve of his stomach, his thighs. But she dared not stoke his length as it waited agonizingly erect in front of her. Not yet.
He licked his lips, waiting patiently, but not for much longer. Her hair draped tantalizingly and tickled his chest as she leaned over him. She could smell the sweat dripping, feel the damp breaths he heaved to be pinned down and out of control. The tang of smoke and magic filled her nose, his arms tugging again as he tried to sit up to reach her lips with his own, so close she could lick them. But not close enough.
Sauron growled, low and thick in his throat. But Galadriel just laughed lightly as the music of her voice filled the room. "It is small wonder you enjoy the rush of power so very much, my lord," she smirked. "It is pure exhilaration to have someone so at my mercy. I could kiss you, I could wound you, or I could fuck you. And you could not stop me."
"Not most beings," he allowed with a single arching eyebrow. "But I could." With one resounding a growl, he broke free from the dark binds, gripping her by the shoulder as he kissed her at last. He barely let a breath between her lips, unsatisfied hunger and need gnawing within him. Standing in one fluid motion, he picked her up, throwing her naked body over his shoulder.
Galadriel screamed in a dark sort of joy to be thrown, pounding her fists against his back. But as he turned towards the bed to finish what they had begun, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass of the window behind him. Her hair spilled in long lengths, framing her face, a rosy hue coloring her cheek with arousal. But what caught her breath and stopped her heart were her eyes.
Black as the night. Not a pupil within them. Staring back at her.