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The Lost and the Hidden City	By : pip & BronxWench Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2742 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 9
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- 11
Chapter Ten
Thankfully, when they awoke there was no trace of strangeness in Glorfindel. Gildor blinked as he stirred, feeling the warrior’s strong arms wrapped around him still, and one of his legs too.
Outside it was sunny, and Gildor began their morning ritual, trying to ease himself out of Glorfindel’s grip to get up. This particular morning, he was halfway out of Glorfindel’s arms, his fingers just touching on his robe where it rested on a chair beside the bed. Then the warrior woke up.
“Good morning, Glorfindel!” he said brightly, as if he hadn’t been sneaking out of bed, pinned beneath the blond elf’s weight, again.
“Good morning, indeed. You are very wriggly in the morning,” Glorfindel observed. “One would think you did not like to cuddle, although I know that cannot be true.” He dipped his head to nuzzle Gildor’s ear, his tongue flicking out to tease the tip.
“Sometimes I like to cuddle from atop you, you know.” He laughed at Glorfindel’s expression. “You’re also heavy when you’re in reverie.” He squirmed until he was more comfortably situated under his lover, and then pressed his hips up into Glorfindel with an expression he hoped was one of innocence. “There, a nice stretch. It feels marvelous after a good reverie.” His hands stole upward to slide into Glorfindel’s tumbled curls.
As he had hoped would happen, Glorfindel shifted to let his thick cock slide alongside his cock. He shivered in delight at the sensation, already feeling tingles of anticipation throughout. He managed to work one leg free, and hooked it over Glorfindel’s hip.
“You are quite wanton today. I wonder what I should do about it.” Glorfindel’s smile lit his eyes, and he laughed up at the blond warrior.
“Well, whatever you decide, let’s be quick about it. I have a rare appetite this morning. It must be all the exercise I get of late.” He worked the other leg free, and Glorfindel groaned as he spread himself wide for his lover.
“I can be quick,” Glorfindel said hastily as he reached for the oil, and Gildor laughed. “And I can make you quick too,” he continued. Gildor’s laughter dissolved into a moan as Glorfindel did not immediately penetrate him with the oil, but worked him with one strong hand, until he was so close he knew he would climax as soon as Glorfindel breached him.
The preparation was efficient too, and as he had thought, just the feel of Glorfindel’s cock in him was enough, and his body seized in pleasure, leaving him relaxed and easy as Glorfindel worked towards his own release.
Despite his earlier words, when Glorfindel was done, Gildor was unwilling to rise, and unwilling to let his lover go, loving to lay beside him quietly and look into those blue eyes, completely content.
“Let us go to the baths,” Glorfindel said quietly, interspersing his words with little kisses. “And then breakfast. I know you are hungry after yesterday, and that is my fault. I should have made certain to disturb you.”
Gildor smiled. “Yes, you should, wicked elf,” he teased. “I told you to.”
They gathered their things and went to the baths in only their robes, early enough this morning that even the quietest of the warm pools were busy. The one they walked into was full of Glorfindel’s guards - the night shift, if Gildor was not mistaken, and he sighed helplessly at the sight of them.
Glorfindel greeted them all by name, quite oblivious to his discomfort, and hung his robe up carelessly. The blond warrior turned to Gildor, hanging back and fussing with his robe a bit.
“Come, bain nín, the water looks to be gloriously warm this morning.” Glorfindel held out a hand, and he took it, hoping his smile looked bright and confident. “Your robe?”
“Ah, of course.” He was quite sure he was blushing clear up to the tips of his ears, but he slipped the robe off and fought the urge to look down at himself, to check for any lingering evidence of their morning lovemaking. Then he followed Glorfindel to the bath meekly, trying not to look at any of the guards for too long, lest he see confirmation of his fretting.
“Come, I will wash your hair, and then you can wash mine,” Glorfindel offered. He did love it when those strong fingers massaged his scalp, and eased through his hair. He clambered into the water with a brighter smile.
“Good morning,” he said, a general greeting to the guards. It would not do to be rude, he decided. “It looks to be a fine day, although I suppose for you it is opposite?” Glorfindel’s chuckle sounded decidedly wicked as he settled down in front of his lover.
Though it seemed intimate, it was not unusual for elves to attend the baths in pairs, even those who weren’t lovers, because it was certainly easier to have another wash your hair. Gildor relaxed as he felt the first touches of Glorfindel’s finger tips against his scalp.
“It makes no difference,” said one of the guards Gildor had addressed. “I always sleep well when the birds are singing!” At that Gildor’s heart thumped heavily, as a few noisy laughs echoed around the baths.
“You must have heard some birdsong last night then,” teased another. “I could hear you snoring from my post!”
Gildor swallowed and opened his eyes, backing up a little, only to realise he was pressing himself against Glorfindel under the water. But the guards did not seem to display any particular attention to him, so perhaps he was just imagining it. One of them gave Glorfindel and he a forthright look, though.
“I wasn’t sleeping, Captain,” he said, and Glorfindel chuckled behind him. Gildor relaxed again, but this time he remained a little wary. It was impossible to be completely uncomfortable when Glorfindel massaged his scalp like that. The attention of the warriors drifted away, and one or two of them left.
“Easy, dúlinnor nín,” Glorfindel whispered in his ear, so quietly only he heard it.
Gildor’s heart skipped a beat, and he turned his head fast enough to almost hit Glorfindel’s nose with his cheekbone. He swallowed hard, looking for assurance which would not be forthcoming. Surely he was not suggesting… and Glorfindel smiled at him.
With that, he settled down. Glorfindel had more care for him than to make a spectacle of him. It was teasing, no more, and certainly well deserved after how he had teased his lover. He did like that new pet name as well. He was certainly happy enough to be Glorfindel’s nightingale. In the meantime, strong fingers were working their way through his hair, and he sighed in bliss.
“That feels so nice, aníra nín.” He leaned back into Glorfindel’s touch, no longer worried about the opinion of the guards. “When you are done, I will wash your hair. And then we can go and find our breakfast.” His smile for Glorfindel was radiant.
Soon, he found himself sitting on a submerged seat in the pool, with Glorfindel leaned back across his knees, his beautiful hair streaming out into the water. It did not matter who was with them, Gildor could not help it. He washed his lover’s hair, taking all the pleasure from it that he could, enjoying how Glorfindel utterly relaxed under his touch. When a couple of the warriors made some choice comments, Gildor didn’t even look up, only grinned. Glorfindel lay there with his eyes closed. “Get your own,” he called back at them, then sighed in satisfaction, and Gildor giggled.
They followed the warriors in to breakfast, so it was by nature a more rowdy affair, but Gildor was quite relaxed. They talked to each other about their plans for the day, and he realised that however Glorfindel teased, his lover would never expose him that way to others. It just wasn’t in his nature.
They spent most of the day apart, engaged in their differing tasks within Imladris, but Glorfindel made certain to distract him for lunch, and then dinner, after which they ambled through the formal gardens, hand in hand.
Something had occurred to Gildor, and during their walk he stopped suddenly, frowning, intending to ask about it. “That…” He struggled for the words. “The way you restrain me, when you stop me from…” He blushed, and Glorfindel smiled at him, enjoying seeing him stumble over his words, no doubt.
Gildor drew in a breath and looked away. “I know you must have had it made. Who did you plan to seduce before this?” He gave Glorfindel an earnest look, because he’d been thinking about how many lovers Glorfindel had kept before, in Gondolin. “And,” he said, faltering. “Do you still plan it?”
Glorfindel watched him for a long moment, and he swallowed hard. The question was a gamble, and he knew it. He steeled himself for the answer which must come.
“Such things can be had if you know where to ask,” Glorfindel said finally. He looked down at Gildor’s hand, still clasped in his own strong fingers. “Do you not enjoy it, when I use it? It seemed to me you found even more pleasure in your release when it was denied to you for a time.”
“I do enjoy it, mostly.” He surprised himself by his straightforward answer. He continued before he lost his courage. “I just never experienced anything like that before. I suppose I seem provincial to you, to admit it.”
“Not provincial. Untouched, more innocent than worldly.” Glorfindel smiled sweetly and turned Gildor toward him, pulling him close for a kiss. “It is very appealing, you know. I enjoy watching you as you discover things about yourself, things like enjoying my toys.”
“The way you say that makes me wonder what you have in store for me,” he said, his fingers tightening in Glorfindel’s grasp. He bit his lip, and then smiled at his lover. “I must remember not to tease you too much, I think.”
Glorfindel laughed slowly. “Do you think that will help?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in a comical fashion, and Gildor laughed too.
“I am doomed!” he declared to the empty garden, unable to help it.
“Doomed to discovering pleasure,” Glorfindel pointed out.
“And having everything I ever wanted,” Gildor said, drawing closer again. He tilted his face up in the dusk for a little kiss. “Is it too early to retire?” he asked.
“Well, that depends,” said Glorfindel, giving him a frank look. “How’s your endurance?”
“Mine?!” Gildor almost spluttered, hitting Glorfindel playfully on the arm. “What about yours?”
“Let’s find out,” said Glorfindel mysteriously, leading them around the paths that would bring them back to the house. Gildor tried to imagine what might be waiting for him inside, but eventually had to concede defeat. He didn’t dare to voice half of the fantasies his mind came up with, except to say that they all featured Glorfindel.
It occurred to him that before this, he would have returned to his maps after dinner, if he’d even been present for the evening meal. Now, he had other things to do with his time, and he admitted - at least to himself - that the balance was good for him. Glorfindel was good for him. He only hoped he was good for Glorfindel.
They made their way to Glorfindel’s room, and his overlarge bed, and he could not help a sigh of anticipation as he waited for Glorfindel to close the door and secure it. Really, the warrior’s experience with lovemaking did seem almost unfair, but he was sure he would be able to handle whatever surprises his lover had in store.
“Now, dúlinnor nín, what shall we try tonight?” Glorfindel’s voice was a sultry purr, and he felt his cock stiffen at the tone. “I already know how sweetly you sing when restrained. Perhaps we should try something new?”
He was not sure if he wanted to shiver, or if he wanted to nod agreement with whatever Glorfindel proposed. He could feel his heart beating just that much faster, and his body clenched in anticipation. He licked his lips, his cheeks growing warm. “What sort of new things?”
Glorfindel’s response was a dark chuckle, and he reached out to begin undressing Gildor. Glorfindel took his time, caressing him as he removed each garment, while his head spun with desire and need. He trembled under his lover’s touch, until he stood naked before him.
“So beautiful,” Glorfindel murmured. He turned away, and when he turned back, he held a band of fine silk. “Turn around for me, bain nín.”
He did as Glorfindel asked, trembling anew as the silk slid over his eyes. Glorfindel was careful to make the blindfold tight enough not to slip, but not tight enough to hurt. This was a new kind of helpless, and the next touch of his lover’s fingers tingled like wildfire across his skin.
He gasped, but then the touch left him alone, and he stood in the centre of the room by himself. He could hear the rustling of Glorfindel’s clothing, and smiled. He was getting undressed too.
Gildor held out his hands to the empty air. He was a mapmaker, and he knew the dimensions of this room and everything in it. It was an instinct in him to know, and yet now he felt as though the little bit of the floor he stood on might be the only solid thing in the world.
With a breath to settle his nerves from that disconcerting impression, Gildor determined that this would not beat him. He turned slightly. Over there, in front of him should be the bed, roughly ten small steps away, clear space between. With an act of will, he lowered his hands to his sides and took a step, then another.
His confidence grew as he walked, and he became bolder, aware that Glorfindel was watching him. If he was considerate, he would not place himself in the way. The bed was exactly where he expected it to be, and now at last he raised his hands again, crawling onto it on all fours.
“As tempting and delectable as you look,” Glorfindel said, his voice coming from the side. “That was too easy for you.” Gildor smiled and turned his head in the direction of his lover’s voice.
“Did you expect me to fail?” he asked, amused. Glorfindel’s hand took his, encouraging him back onto the floor, and before he could stop to think, the warrior was leading him into the open space again, this time turning him around and around, quickly, so as to disorient him. Gildor laughed, understanding as Glorfindel left him alone again. Now it was a challenge, but he knew he was equal to it. He only needed to touch one stationary thing to get his bearings.
He took a breath, letting himself relax. He could feel Glorfindel near him, the heat from his lover easy enough to sense against his skin. He knew Glorfindel would not purposefully obstruct him. He took a step forward, confident, one hand stretched out just a bit further than his step would take him.
Three quick steps later, his fingers grazed the wood of Glorfindel’s wardrobe. He smiled, turned, and walked to the bed with unerring grace, turning to perch on the edge.
“You carry all the places you’ve known in that head of yours,” Glorfindel said, and there was admiration as well as pride in the rich tones of his voice. “You will find your way to the bed no matter where I place you, I think. And in truth, I quite like seeing you in my bed.”
“Then come and join me.” He held out his hand as he slid back onto the bed, arranging himself in what he knew would be a pleasing manner. “I quite like being in your bed myself, and I would not want to disappoint your guards.”
Glorfindel’s laughter was a delight to him, and he felt the weight of the warrior as he climbed onto the bed. But Glorfindel did not take his hand, did not touch him, and he found himself almost breathless in anticipation.
For long moments, there was nothing, while Gildor worked himself up into a frenzy of anticipation, imagining Glorfindel looming over him. Then at last, unable to help it, he sat up and reached out to where he thought Glorfindel should be, yet found nothing but empty space.
He hadn’t been paying attention. Gildor grinned, and suddenly turned over to one side of the bed in an attempt at a surprise attack, but it was empty. A low chuckle from behind him was his only warning, before warm lips brushed over the bottom of his spine. A warm tingle ran through him as he froze, wondering if he would feel Glorfindel’s touch again.
When he didn’t, Gildor turned over onto his back, and now the lips were back, sweeping over his stomach, and he shivered deliciously, reaching out to touch, his fingers sliding through Glorfindel’s hair as he pulled away.
“If you want my touch,” the warrior said wickedly. “You will keep your hands to yourself.”
Gildor let his hands drop immediately, eager to have Glorfindel come back, and then he felt those lips further up his body, pressing against one nipple, a hint of a tongue behind them. Instinctively, he brought his hands up to cradle Glorfindel’s head, moaning in dismay when his lover pulled away.
“So unfair,” he complained quietly. He lay still for a moment, then got up onto his knees, certain that Glorfindel was before him. When he felt a hand gathering his hair to one side, he tilted his head, moaning as Glorfindel kissed the back of his neck. With the blindfold, every touch felt so fabulous, so intense. His imagination leapt forward to what it would be like to feel Glorfindel take him like this, and he felt himself growing hard for it.
So he could not touch? But he could respond in other ways, and Gildor began to yearn into Glorfindel’s caresses, until, still on his knees, he felt one of Glorfindel’s hands on his cock, coaxing him into full hardness. His hands ached with a need to touch Glorfindel in kind, but he could not, and settled for a long, sinuous arching of his body that made Glorfindel hum in appreciation behind him..
Every inch of his skin felt alive, and each touch seemed more intense with his vision negated like this. He wondered how he had never thought to try something like this before, and then nearly laughed at himself. He had been so provincial indeed. It would never have occurred to him, and that was the simple truth.
Glorfindel’s other hand teased one nipple, and he moaned in sweet appreciation, his cock achingly hard already. Did Glorfindel mean for him to spill so quickly, or would he employ that wicked restraint? He found himself almost hoping for it, for the security of knowing he would not finish too soon, and could please his lover by his endurance.
He let his head fall back, offering his lips to his lover, and the kiss was both possessive and intoxicating. He could only imagine Glorfindel’s expression, the heat in those eyes. It was more arousing than he could have anticipated.
Glorfindel’s hands fell away, and he listened as the weight on the bed shifted. He heard the soft click of a stopper being lifted from a bottle, and breathed in the scent of the oil Glorfindel favoured. A strong hand urged him to bend forward, presenting himself to be prepared, and he let out a soft cry as he felt one strong finger stroking him. He trembled a little, feeling more open than he ever had, more exposed, and yet he would not change a thing.
And then, before that moment passed, Gildor felt a stab of agonised need, and he dislodged Glorfindel’s hands on him easily, turning around, still blinded, his own hands reaching out. “Please,” he said fervently. “Let me… before...” and then somehow it was all right when his palms touched Glorfindel’s face, almost as if he had to confirm it for himself.
His lips pressed against Glorfindel’s, hungry for a response which his lover gave him as Gildor’s hands moved down, mapping his lover’s familiar body. Now it was right. Now he would submit to whatever Glorfindel wished. And then, as his right hand brushed over Glorfindel’s cock, he felt it.
Now he knew why Glorfindel had not placed the restraint on him, and he gasped. “Glorfindel,” he whispered. The warrior caught his hand and pulled it away.
“On your knees now, as you were,” he replied tenderly, nuzzling his face against Gildor’s neck. “Tonight, I will please you,” he said.
Gildor turned and got back into his previous position in a daze. Glorfindel had turned the tables on him so easily, and though this seemed the same, it was all subtly altered as Glorfindel eased inside him. This was for his pleasure, because Glorfindel would not come. That, combined with the blindfold, turned this into a delirious experience.
Glorfindel, as always, felt so big, just a whisper away from pain to take him inside, and yet… every one of Glorfindel’s moans stoked his own ecstasy. This was slow and sensual, and Gildor tried to hold back, because he didn’t want it to end.
He was not sure how his lover knew, but Glorfindel’s voice was just as tender. “All night, bain nín, as long as you desire, as many times as you wish.”
Glorfindel made it that simple. His lover would delay his own release until he was drunk on pleasure, and capable of nothing more than crying out Glorfindel’s name. And because it was exactly that simple, he could no longer hold back. Glorfindel was touching him everywhere at once, and he cried out as he spilled.
Strong hands caught him, held him as he shuddered through a powerful surge of pleasure, made more intense by the position, the blindfold, the knowledge of what Glorfindel wore for him. He had not had an answer to his question earlier, about Glorfindel’s other lovers, in Gondolin and since his return, but somehow the need for the answer faded with the waves of bliss rolling through him.
Glorfindel withdrew, and he thought to protest the emptiness, until his lips were covered in a kiss. It was just what he needed to ground himself again, and he smiled into the caress, knowing he was wanted, and loved. He let Glorfindel ease him onto his back, resting against the soft cushions, and he felt those strong hands travel over him, soothing and stroking him.
He was so used to finding release at the same time or after Glorfindel that feeling his lover’s hard cock pressed against his thigh made him gasp. Glorfindel’s hands roved everywhere. The change from soothing to rousing was subtle, but he had spent too soon, and his body needed time. And then, with a start, Gildor realised it didn’t mean he wished to refuse. The thought of feeling Glorfindel inside him again became a desire in his mind, especially given the way his lover was inundating him with kisses and licks as if to persuade him.
Without the clouding of his own body’s physical desire, Gildor found it heady to be the focus of Glorfindel’s need. He made such wonderful little yearning sounds as he expertly played with Gildor’s body, until he was on top, with Gildor spread wide beneath him. Gildor reached up to touch the warrior’s face, one finger finding its way into Glorfindel’s mouth, which he suckled. Gildor moaned, and felt a stirring of his blood. Sluggish but awakening.
“Take me…” he breathed, but Glorfindel did not. Instead he continued with the ravishing treatment that made Gildor feel cherished and loved. So tender, increasing the pitch of his physical desire little by little as if courting it.
When he was hard again, and his skin was heated with arousal, Glorfindel rolled them over until Gildor was on top; a moment later an oiled finger was sliding inside him, but it was unnecessary. The finger withdrew, and then it was Glorfindel. Gildor sank down slowly with a moan, only for his lover to pull him forward and free him from the blindfold.
He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light in the room, bright enough after the blindfold. Glorfindel was beneath him, golden curls spread in a halo beneath his head, blue eyes dark and wide. Those perfect lips were curved in a smile, and his expression of admiration and love made Gildor gasp.
“What are you seeing?” he asked, filled by his lover. He reached out to touch the warrior’s cheek in wonder.
“I am seeing everything I have ever desired, and all I could ever hope for,” Glorfindel replied. “I am seeing Gildor Inglorion, and I thank the Valar for this blessing.” His strong hands curled around his hips, urging him to move, and he needed no further encouragement.
It was as though he had not already spent himself. He could feel the slow heating of his blood, the coiled need in his belly as Glorfindel moved within, so deep and so encompassing. It was more than physical, this joining. He felt his fëa respond as well, as never before in all the long years of his life. “Meleth nín,” he whispered, for the first time, and knew he meant it.
At those words, Glorfindel’s eyes darkened and the warrior’s body shuddered beneath him. All of that strength and power, constrained. It made Gildor catch his breath, but Glorfindel was as hard inside him as before. Nothing had changed. As he looked down, Glorfindel twisted his head away at an angle, and Gildor could see the corded muscles in his neck, so tight with tension.
“Ai!” Glorfindel moaned, and Gildor was sure it was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. “Do you mean to torture me with your words?” Glorfindel asked, breathless, and he sounded so vulnerable. Gildor put out a hand, resting his palm on the side of Glorfindel’s neck that was exposed to him.
Glorfindel’s pulse was strong and wild beneath his hand, racing, thundering. Gildor swallowed, and though Glorfindel’s hands had tightened on his hips to keep him still, now they were looser, and it was easy for him to begin the slow up and down he wanted.
Every single movement inspired an aching moan from Glorfindel, and it reminded Gildor of how it felt to be restrained that way. The sheer need in him. He closed his eyes for a moment. “I said it, and I mean it,” he whispered. “I love you. But I do not think I intend to torment you.”
With that said he pulled away, letting Glorfindel slip free of his body before moving aside. As Glorfindel shivered beside him, still overcome, Gildor curiously inspected the restraint on him, wondering how best to remove it. He quickly grasped how it worked, but then one large hand covered his and he looked up to find Glorfindel staring at him, something dark in his gaze that made Gildor’s heart flutter nervously.
“If you remove it,” Glorfindel warned, the words clearly an effort on his part. “I do not think I can control myself.”
He looked at his lover, seeing clearly the elf who had slain a balrog, the elf who would not flinch in the face of impossible odds, the elf who had walked in the Halls of Mandos and returned. This was also the elf he loved, a side of his lover he could not deny. He nodded once, and lifted Glorfindel’s hand away.
“I will not fear you. Nor will I torment you any longer.” He loosed the restraint, his eyes never leaving Glorfindel. “There is nothing you can take which I have not already given.”
There was a certain peace in his decision, and he could not help but smile. He might have been a scholar, and a mapmaker, but he was still an elf of Gondolin, and he possessed courage enough for whatever would come. He let himself fall back onto the bed, open to Glorfindel. “Will you find release in me, for my pleasure?”
He was half expecting what happened next, yet the reality of Glorfindel pinning him down was more overwhelming than he imagined. He could feel the warrior’s hot breath on his neck as his hands got busy positioning himself. He entered Gildor with a powerful thrust that moved him up the bed, and it made tears spring to his eyes.
This reminded him of the baths that first morning, and all he could do was lie still and open beneath it. The tears were wet on his cheeks as Glorfindel all but slammed into him, and the moan that came from his lover’s lips was more of a possessive growl than anything.
Glorfindel’s ferocious need quickly eased, and he became a little gentler, only lasting through a few more hard thrusts before he reached that moment, and he held still, his muscles bulging. Gildor let his palms roam over Glorfindel’s biceps, biting his lip.
Glorfindel did not so much relax after his release as collapse, his hands sliding beneath Gildor’s body to hold him close, as if he was afraid Gildor would somehow escape.
He would not have tried, though. He sighed in contentment as Glorfindel’s arms enclosed him in warmth, his own need forgotten for the moment. He did not care how possessive Glorfindel was. He cherished it, in fact, as much as he relished his ability to make Glorfindel lose control. He did not even care that it was not as easy to breathe, with the weight of Glorfindel atop him.
His hands still rested against strong biceps, the muscles somewhat relaxed now, but still quite present beneath silken skin. He could feel his own hard cock, trapped between them. He could have wriggled to draw attention to it, but he chose to remain still, enjoying the closeness for the moment. It was curious, to feel such peace in the aftermath of being taken with such vigour, but it was true all the same.
Glorfindel moved, just the slightest turn of his head, and golden curls slid over his shoulder to tickle Gildor, and catch against his still-damp cheeks. “Thank you,” he murmured into the warmth of Glorfindel’s shoulder. “Aníra nín.”
Coming around a little, Glorfindel freed one of his hands and raised his upper body a little, staring down into Gildor’s eyes. His thumb brushed over Gildor’s bottom lip.
“I love you too,” Glorfindel said at last. “If I told you how much, you would not believe me.”
Gildor’s heart expanded in joy, and he felt his body twitch where his erection was trapped between them. Before he could answer, he saw that Glorfindel felt it too, and he rolled to the side, reaching down now with the hand he had freed.
“Even when I intend the opposite, I make you wait,” Glorfindel said, then chuckled. But it was easy to forgive him when he curled his fingers around Gildor’s cock, stroking him in a way that was meant for his pleasure. Fast, the way he liked it. Gildor moaned, turning his head to the side.
“I will not last,” he managed, and Glorfindel chuckled again.
“I do not mean for you to,” he said. “I want you to come in my hand, meleth nín. That is the way you will please me now.”
His body responded to Glorfindel as if given an instruction, and he cried out, spilling as Glorfindel worked him, coaxing out all that he had to give until he was spent.
Afterward, he rested in Glorfindel’s arms, sated and content to be held. It had been a night of revelations, from exploring new pleasures to his confession of love, a confession which was met with a reciprocal response. It was almost too large a thing to think about just now. Glorfindel loved him. He wondered, only for a moment, why Glorfindel thought he would not believe it. He dismissed it, and nuzzled against his lover’s skin. The last thing he registered before reverie took him was the feeling of a strong hand stroking his hair.

To be continued...

Authors' Note: Thank you for reading – we hope you enjoyed that chapter! Please leave a comment as you go, and see you next week! :)
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The Lost and the Hidden City