Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Still	By : ebonykain Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Slash - Male/Male Views: 9087 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I am very very sad to say I don’t own Lord of the Rings. And happy, too, because if I did, I’d be dead by now. So I'll take being alive over making money off things like this, thanks.

Chapter List
- 1-Still
- 1
            “Stand still.”

            The words rolled off his tongue like thick, dark honey to hold the willing captive in thrall. Legolas’ body didn’t move—indeed he barely even breathed. Every taut muscle and joint seemed to be etched in marble and moonlight. Long lashes created dark shadows on high cheekbones, like smudges of ash beneath closed lids. Without sight, other senses became more acute. Legolas could hear the soft brush of a robe against the floor as the Man moved across the room to him. Explosions of sensation ignited him where fingers lightly touched his wrists, moving them without effort to rest at the small of his back.

            The youngest prince of Mirkwood felt his breathing increase and struggled to control it. Muscles in his legs flexed with tension, trying to maintain balance as a bead of sweat made its way down the center of his back. A hot tongue caught the drop and Legolas couldn’t bite back the gasp.

Deep laughter. “Ah, my little prince-ling. What a prize you are.” Hands moved up his arms, awakening every nerve they brushed over. Legolas’ body was already singing, how would he last this?

A soft cloth was folded over his eyes, taking away even the option of sight. The action was followed by the binding of his wrists. Legolas found himself grateful for the restraints and his body relaxed. Something thrilling in not only giving up control, but having it taken, calmed Legolas at the same time it excited him.

Physical contact broke suddenly and Legolas found himself strung tighter than the string of his bow. He strained his ears to catch a sound, any sound to help him place the Man. He almost turned his head when he heard the robe fall to the floor somewhere at his right. But then the silence returned, and remained unbroken too long for comfort.

Where? He almost asked but bit his tongue at the last moment and tasted blood.

“Here.” The voice was right in front of him and Legolas felt the warm puff of breath against his cheek. Cold metal was pressed against his bottom lip and obediently he opened his mouth. Fingers under his chin lifted his head back slightly and he tasted sweet wine. The cup was removed and warm lips brushed across his collarbone, soft as the wings of a moth. The prince trembled.

The Man circled him, like some great predator inspecting its prey. “You want to please me.” Not a question. An order. Followed by an expectant pause.

“Yes.” Legolas almost didn’t recognize his own voice, breathy and low. A hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“On your knees.” Gentle pressure from the hand and Legolas lowered himself carefully to the ground. The stone floor was cold and hard. A booted foot nudged his legs apart slightly. His balance was less precarious, but this left him far more exposed, a fact reinforced when he felt the supple leather move further up the inside of his thigh. Legolas tensed but the boot stopped. Man and Elf held themselves absolutely still.

Anticipation. In battle it could be as deadly as the weapons of an enemy. Legolas was learning that fact still held truth, even when not on the field. This was a different kind of battle. One of wills. How far would he go? How much was too much? And at what point did surrender turn to something else? He had come here, to this room, of his own free will. Would he be able to leave under the same power? Did he have the strength?

The foot left him. Legolas found himself aching for touch. To be touched. His wrists flexed and twisted in their bonds with the need to reach out and feel.

“None of that.” The voice was sharp. Fear crept into Legolas’ heart, a taste like old metal. “Remember, prince-ling: You wanted this.” Yes. That was true. He had wanted this. But he hadn’t known quite was this was. Hadn’t known he would feel this… this separation of self. Where had the warrior gone? The archer who embarked on a quest with eight others to destroy the One Ring. Who had survived the battle against the Dark? Where had that version of him gone?

Fingers carded through his hair and pulled him forward on his knees. One finger brushed against his lips. “Open up.” Legolas obeyed before even thinking. Burning steel covered in smooth flesh, tasted slightly of salt. Legolas felt heat prickle his cheeks. “I trust you know what to do. Please me.” Again, obedience without thought. Legolas flicked his tongue over the head as he applied a warm, steady suction. A deep groan above him echoed through Legolas’ entire body, welling like a pool of warmth in his belly. The Man’s second hand came to rest on the Elf’s head along with the other, pulling him closer. Inch by inch Legolas took more into his mouth until he no longer could. The Man still tried to pull him closer, causing the prince to gag slightly. The Man withdrew only a little, to push back in, forcing his way deeper. A rhythm found, slowly Legolas was able to take in the whole length to the point where his nose brushed against the curls of the Man’s groin. The grip in his hair became painful suddenly and three rather hard thrusts preceded a burst of thick liquid down his throat. Reflexively he swallowed and he was able to breath again.

The Man took a step away from the gasping Elvin prince. The sound of boots being removed followed by the Man’s leggings. “You’re very good at that. Very good. I think…” The Man walked closer, “I think you deserve a reward.”

If Legolas had not been aroused before, he certainly was now, almost painfully so. The room seemed cold to his feverish skin. Strong, well-muscled arms wrapped around his middle and lifted him from the floor to stand on shaking legs. When he almost fell, he was scooped up and the body pressed against his felt like fire. The Man sat Legolas down on the edge of the bed, his feet safely on the ground. Indeed safe. I feel as though I may fly out of my skin and float among the stars!

The hands rested on his hips, thumbs gently rubbing tiny circles. With a start Legolas realized the Man was kneeling between his legs when he felt the soft bristles of a short beard graze his thigh. “Do nothing.” A sucking kiss was placed on the inside of his left knee. Another inches above the first. “You come when I tell you, no sooner.” Warm breath and another kiss, so close to where Legolas desperately needed that mouth. Legolas’ body was shaking so that he was surprised his teeth weren’t clacking together. “Do you understand?”

“Mmm… y-yes.” Barely more than a gasp. The Elf would agree to just about anything at that moment.

The Man took hold of the aching shaft with one hand and Legolas’ breath rushed out of his lungs in a hiss. The Man kissed and tongued the head, teasing the slit until the prince was nearly hyperventilating. The tongue moved down to the base then back to the head. Legolas groaned softly when the hand slid down to cup his sac, gently pulling forward. One long finger slid lower, behind to tease at the small opening to his body. A soft whimpering filled the room and it took a moment for the prince to realize the sound was coming from him. He cried out when the finger penetrated him and he had not enough air in his lungs to cry out a second time when another finger was added.

The Man’s searching fingers found the sweet spot and Legolas nearly jumped out of his skin. Ah! There’s no way! The Elf’s breathing was closer to wrenching sobs and he knew there would be no way to stop the impending explosion. Even so, he tried, shivering with every muscle tensed to fight or flee as he battled for control. The blindfold was soaked through with tears and sweat. The hot mouth engulfed him completely and the fingers inside established a relentless rhythm with the mouth. Impossible… he wants the impossible, there’s no way I—

“Please!” Legolas’ voice was hoarse and raw. “I can’t… I can’t, I… Ahhh!” He came violently, head flung back, spine arching almost to the point of snapping. When it was over Legolas collapsed back onto the bed. Tremors ran through his system in waves like aftershocks of an earthquake. The fingers slid from his body and the mouth from his spent member. The Man stood back from him.

When the spasms finally stopped the Man spoke. And his voice was like ice. “I told you not to come until I gave you permission,” he growled. Again Legolas felt the fear chill his blood. His heart faltered and his breath hitched in his chest before he could answer.

“I—I am sorry.” The prince struggled to sit up. “I tried…”

“No excuses.” And Legolas found himself face down on the bed without quite remembering how he got that way. He could feel the Man’s eyes burning into his back. His entire body jerked when he heard the snap of leather. No… he wouldn’t!

The first blow caused Legolas to yelp, although it hadn’t been as hard a hit as it could have been. A second strike fell on his rump and he bit the coverlet to keep the cry in. That one had been worse than the first. More lashes came and they varied in placement and strength. Legolas counted ten before his sobs became loud enough for the Man to hear. Two more followed before he heard the belt thrown into a corner of the room.

The Man’s hand, which had felt warm before, now felt cool against his stinging rear and Legolas flinched from the touch. The hands continued to fondle him as the Man spoke. “You understand why I did that, prince-ling?” Legolas had to lick his lips and swallow before he could answer with a shaky, “…yes.”

“And why did I whip you?” The initial pain from the spanking was subsiding and the burning sensation, coupled with the sensual massaging was beginning to arouse Legolas again. He found it hard to think. “I… I came with… without permission.”

“Very good. And do you think you’ve learned your lesson, prince-ling?” One of the hands left only to return with fingers slicked with oil. A scent of sandalwood filled the room to mingle with the pungent smell of sex.

“Ah… y-yes.” Busy fingers prodded and stretched in a leisurely manner that left Legolas whimpering. A kiss was placed at the base of his spine, successive kisses traveled up his back until they reached his bound hands. Each of Legolas’ fingertips were kissed and sucked. The prince found himself painfully hard again, and amazed that he could be, so soon after that last spectacular orgasm. He felt both delighted and dizzy as the fingers were removed to be replaced by something a lot larger and hotter.

Legolas gasped as the head penetrated him. The Man stayed still for a moment, giving the prince time to adjust to the invasion. Then he began to push forward and Legolas’ breath hissed out of him slowly. The Man felt huge! How could he fit? Legolas felt he must be torn in half if he didn’t stop. But the Man continued forward. And Legolas didn’t split in half. Instead the sweetest pleasure and feeling of fullness suffused his entire body. He thought nothing could possibly feel better than this.

Then the Man began to move. Legolas pulled in a gasping breath. “Please…” A slow withdrawal and a quick trust back in, hard enough to rock Legolas against the edge of the bed. “Ah! You will kill me with this pleasure!”

Laughter above him. “No…” breathless as Legolas was. “No… not yet at least.” Legolas whimpered as he was ridden hard, his body occasionally moved in ways that pleased the mortal who controlled him so completely. And at that moment, Legolas would have it no other way. The Man pulled out almost completely before jerking Legolas’ hip back even as he thrust forward. Smaller, shallower thrusts followed, each angled just so to hit Legolas over and over in that place that made the Elf see stars behind his blindfold. When one of the hands that held the prince in a bruising grip moved to grasp his renewed erection Legolas pressed his face into the bed to keep from screaming. He was trapped in pleasure, the hand in front and the hard punishing thrusts from behind. Legolas’ hands twisted in their bonds and his nails dug into his palms.

“Legolas… my little prince-ling…” That voice never sounded more beautiful, never deeper or more sensual, and it was for him. All for him. “Now.” The voice was right in his ear now. “Come for me my beautiful Elf. Come for me.” And the Man bit his shoulder. Hard. Marking Legolas, claiming him. Legolas came, screaming and not caring if his cry reached the very heavens and shook the foundations of the stars.

Legolas next found himself lying on his back. His hands were untied and the blindfold had been removed. His wrists were being gently massaged. Legolas opened his eyes blearily and looked up at his lover, who smiled down at him. The Elf returned the smile and ran one hand down the side of his mortal’s face.

A soft sigh as he snuggled close. “Legolas… are you okay?” The prince looked up to see concern in the dark eyes.

“I’m fine.” He laughed lightly, the sound like the tinkling of silver bells. “Aragorn… can we do that again?”

Aragorn looked down at Legolas with a slightly alarmed expression. Legolas’ laughter increased before tapering off in sated exhaustion. “No, my heart. I don’t mean tonight. Even I don’t have that much stamina.” Aragorn relaxed and pulled his Elf into his arms. Legolas snuggled close and nuzzled his face into the King of Men’s neck. Utterly relaxed and completely exhausted Legolas drifted off to sleep safe and warm in the arms of his beloved. The last thing he was aware of before slipping into dreams was Aragorn gently covering them both with a blanket.
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