When Éomer opened his eyes again, the darkness around him was so dense, that he couldn't discern a thing. The air was still filled with heavy fragrances, but the silks beneath him were cool. Suddenly he realised, that he was not alone in his bed. The queen was sitting right beside him and played with his tresses with her long fingers.

'My apologies for such a crude awakening, my horse-lord,' she whispered. 'You've been asleep for thirty hours, so I began to get worried... and tense.'

She moved in the darkness and Éomer felt her straddling his bare hips. She must have removed his breeches earlier, he thought. For him the queen was nearly weightless, but her legs were long, so she appeared to be very comfortly seated on his bulky form. Her fingers found the tattoo on Éomer's breast, with touches soft as a feather. She traced the lines, at first with the tip of her finger, but then she lowered her head and her hot tongue was on Éomer. It suddenly dawned on him that she must have a very good night vision. The soft long waves of the her hair were everywhere, spilling on his chest, neck and arms. His heart missed a beat when he felt her lips moving lower, but she kissed his navel and stopped abruptly and got up. Éomer nearly moaned with exasperation, but the next second she was already on his dick.

This time she was too impatient and paid dearly for that — the queen lowered herself quickly on the cock and took all his length at one go, but she couldn't move after such a rash act. Éomer heard her whimpering and her cunt got very tense. An evil thought pierced his mind.

'Good', he thought to himself. 'I'll learn this saucy bitch.'

'Is it too much for your majesty?' He said out loud and then added in whisper, 'Just wait till my sperm will flood your womb.'

He started jerking his hips mercilessly, knowing that she was still far from ready for this. It gave him enormous pleasure to feel her limp form not having control this time, though he was still half powerless with his hands tied up. He wished they were free so that he could bury this woman underneath him and mount her as he wished and for how long he wished. For now Éomer knew that he wasn't going to wait until she started to find pleasure in their mating. The queen couldn't get free because she feared lest his cock would hurt her even more, her hands tried to push away from his hips feebly, but only after a few more violent moves he came deep into her, fully aware that she was nearly stiff with fear. His cock engorged and he pumped his semen so deep that she cried. For a moment pity seized Éomer — he knew, that her belly must have been so inflated that it was unbearable. But then he felt satisfaction, both from a good orgasm and a feel of power that he so desperately lacked the first time with the queen.

When his cock became softer, the girl lifted her hips and got free at last.

'I underestimated you, Brego', she uttered. Her voice was harsh and Éomer thought that she struggled with tears. The bed made no sound when she got up and after a moment the queen was gone.

When Éomer woke up next time it was not dark already. The sunlight flooded his room and the birds were singing outside the window. He found himself on a very large bed, though it was not as high as beds in Rohan or Gondor. The room was richly decorated, embroidered saffron curtains hung down to the floor. Éomer was in bed fully naked, the linen was soft and sleek, but very crumpled and stained under his waist. Some of the stains were that of dried sperm, but some were... blood. So, he actually hurt the queen. That was no faking, her tense body and tears in her voice proved that. But Éomer still lived. She didn't call for her servants, didn't suffocate him in his sleep. That must mean... she liked it?

He got up from the bed (trying vainly to undo the knot on his already numb hands) and came to look out of the window, which was more of an arch than a window, strictly speaking. Éomer expected to see a garden, and garden it was, but, to his astonishment, firstly the arch opened to a terrace, on which there was a deep, pool-like bathtub. He came closer and touched the water with his foot. It was warm. Éomer was still dirty after two nights of sex and Béma knows how many days of a sortie before. So he took the steps and entered the bathtub. The water reached up to his waist. It was very awkward to try and wash himself with his hands tied, but at that moment a clear voice spoke,

'Need help?'

Only then Éomer noticed that he was by no means alone — in the shadow of the rose bush sat his lady, also unashamedly naked. She rose lightly and sat on the brink of a tub, then took some liquid in her hands and beckoned him. Éomer's face flushed, but he came near her, deciding not to object, not this time. His eyes were fixed on her small, but so soft and bouncing breasts with dark areolas. His hands prickled with longing to touch her skin. Éomer knew exactly how soft and velvety it was. He made himself lift his eyes and looked at her dark lips. Those were battered a bit — perhaps she bit them in the course of the past night.

At that moment the queen touched Éomer's hair and started to soap it, the foam was very fragrant. Then she rinsed his curls and took more soap. She touched him everywhere — his jawline, his neck, his immensely broad shoulders and chest with light golden hair. Their eyes were locked and it was fascinating to see the sparkling water reflecting in the depth. Éomer knew what came next and secretly longed for it. He took two steps up and the queen washed his manhood with her smooth fingers, first his shaft, then his balls. He grew hard immediately when she saw her near the bathtub, but now, at her touch in sudsy water he nearly came.

'Ware', she laughed. 'We try to make you clean here, warrior.'

But it didn't help. With each stroke of her hand he suffered more and knew that in some seconds he wouldn't be able to withhold his orgasm. Éomer closed his eyes, feeling the wave of pleasure coming, but then opened them again widely — suddenly the warmth was around the head of his cock, and he felt the queen's hot lips enveloping the head. The sperm spurted from his cock and she swallowed all of it.

'Delicious', she said, smiling. 'You'd better keep the water clean for bathing.'

'Do you want me to soap you now?' Éomer asked huskily, when his heat cooled down a bit.

'Oh no,' she said. 'You see, I took a bath beforehand, though I appreciate the gesture. Still,' she moved her beautiful legs apart, 'there is one thing you can do.'

Éomer looked down and saw a swollen pink cunt of hers, already moistened. Just as he looked the entrance opened and closed again. He never saw a woman's labia so close and it fascinated him. He lowered on his knees (now the water was almost up to his neck) and started to kiss the queen's inner thighs.

'A moment,' she took his chin. 'I'm still hurting from our last night. Do not try to hurt me this time, or rest assured, I'll drown you with my bare hands. Or my servants will.'

Éomer nodded obediently. His mouth was dry and his mind was far from any mischief now.

He started again from her thighs. Her skin was very warm and silky, its fragrance made him dizzy. When his kisses got him to her cunt, Éomer started licking slowly, watching intently the queen's reaction. He'd never done this before, but he must have been doing something right, because the woman closed her eyes and exhaled with a moan. Her head was thrown back, long dark hair matted. With each kiss her thick eyelashes fluttered and Éomer found a spot which seemed to make her shiver. The more he licked it, the more he sucked it, the more restless the queen became, until suddenly she tugged Éomer's hair with a contorted face and a gasp. Her cunt contracted under his lips.

After some moments she lay on her back, her fingers still in his hair. Éomer rested his cheek between her legs, strange ringing in his ears. Suddenly the queen sat and took his head in her palms. Her eyes were now sober and piercing. Despite the warm water Éomer shivered. Then she bent and kissed him full on his mouth, hungrily and boldly. Éomer felt that he was getting hard again, but she took away her hands and lips and got up swiftly. She took the mauve robe from a squab, its long silver fringe was brushing her feet.

'Come,' the woman took something from underneath her sash.

Éomer went up the marble steps, until he stood in front of her, naked. Something silver glistened in her fingers — a dagger. Before he could think about it, his hands were free, the ropes fell down.

'Last night you showed me, that you can be dangerous and hurt me even with your hands tied,' the queen's smile was crooked. 'So let's see what you'd do without these cords.'

Her tone was light, but her eyes looked searchingly, both timid and lustful.

'You can take this raiment,' she pointed on some white silks on the cushions. 'Unless you'd enjoy yourself more without it'.

She tied her hair in a loose braid as she was speaking, and before Éomer took a step towards her, the queen was already leaving the terrace, her steps almost running.