Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Lost and the Hidden City	By : pip & BronxWench Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2743 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We do not own Middle Earth, any of Tolkien's world or characters. We make no money from this work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Chapter Thirteen
Waking to the sight of Glorfindel, spread out and at his mercy, was every bit as wonderful as he had dreamed. The warrior’s muscular chest rose and fell with his even breaths, and his skin was heated silk under Gildor’s hand. He checked the bindings tentatively, and was pleased to see the knots appeared to have held through the night.
In the spirit of experimentation, he leaned over, tucking his hair behind one ear. Glorfindel’s nipple was ever so slightly peaked, and he dragged his tongue over it, wetting it nicely, and then blew gently to watch it harden. It was such a luscious sight, he covered it with his mouth and suckled, gently at first and then with a touch of teeth.
Gildor switched his attention to the other nipple, teasing it into hardness as well. He did not quite dare to look up, to see if Glorfindel was awake. It was easier, and much nicer, to pretend he was in his own little playground, and he kissed his way over to the middle of the warrior’s broad chest, to nuzzle the golden hair which intrigued him endlessly.
Of course, that tempted him to begin to kiss his way down, over Glorfindel’s taut, flat belly, hip bones standing in sharp relief to the sculpted muscles. He relished the heat radiating from his lover’s skin. Glorfindel was a furnace, and it stoked the heat in his own blood as he worked his way ever lower.
The centre of that heat was just below his jaw as Glorfindel awoke. “Good morning, hérince,” he said, and Gildor temporarily forgot about tormenting his lover any further in favour of moving back up the bed to look down into his eyes.
Feeling rather wicked, he decided to play along. “Melethron,” he said with reproach. “You won’t be calling me that for long. Not now that I have you where I want you.”
Glorfindel’s eyes darkened. “I know where you want me,” he flashed back, and Gildor laughed in delight. He could not help thinking of it when Glorfindel was so suggestive, but his desire didn’t deter him in the least.
“Do you really?” he asked, his gaze flicking to the ropes, which he did not intend to untie for some time. Gildor waited, but his lover did not so much as blink. “Are you going to struggle?”
At last, Glorfindel smiled, and he shook his head slowly from side to side. “No,” he said simply.
Dawdling his fingers around on the golden hair that adorned Glorfindel’s chest, he sneaked a casual look from beneath his eyelashes. “Care to indulge in a little wager?” he asked innocently. Glorfindel’s lip twitched, but he did not otherwise answer. “If you don’t struggle, I’ll set you free. Is that agreeable?” Glorfindel looked like he could hardly believe his luck, and he nodded quickly.
Smirking, Gildor got up from the bed, and wandered over to the trunk where the ropes had come from. “What else do you have in here?” he wondered out loud. He was walking away, so he couldn’t see, but he could hear the sudden movement as Glorfindel struggled to free himself from the ropes, and he could not help giggling.
It was almost intimidating, the assortment of items Glorfindel had amassed. He felt a hot flush run through him when it occurred to him Glorfindel acquired these since his return. He could only wonder about the other partners who had shared in Glorfindel’s games.
Gildor shook himself out of those musings quickly. Now was not the time for such things, not when he had Glorfindel at his mercy. His lover had enjoyed teasing him well enough, and perhaps it was time to turn the tables a bit. He saw a lovely, fluffy bundle of feathers, mounted on a carved wooden handle. It was just the thing, he decided. As he lifted it, he saw the blindfold Glorfindel used on him, and he felt his cheeks warm at the memory. Somehow, he did not think Glorfindel would be easily blindfolded.
But now, before he lost his nerve, he turned and sauntered back to the bed, his toy concealed behind his back. “Oh, my dear Glorfindel, are you trying to lose the wager so soon? We never got a chance to discuss what I would get if you struggled.”
“When did you become so wicked?” the warrior shot back. His biceps bulged quite nicely, Gildor decided. He could see the veins he had noticed last night, raised again on Glorfindel’s arms, and he climbed up beside his lover, tracing the veins with one finger. He could feel Glorfindel shudder as he ran his finger along the warrior’s arm, getting halfway down the forearm before reversing direction.
“I’ve had a very good tutor in the arts of teasing,” Gildor said, with a smirk for his lover. He brought out the feathers, twirling them in his fingers. “I wonder, will I be able to get you to forget everything but my name? Should that be my prize?”
Now that he’d seen what Gildor had concealed behind his back, Glorfindel seemed to settle back into being supremely confident. “Ha!” he uttered, smiling. “Try it!”
Gildor raised an eyebrow, but was not put off by his lover at all. With all the thorough detailed attention at his disposal, he began exploring Glorfindel’s body with the sweep of the feathers, his quick mind ascertaining which parts were particularly sensitive.
At first, Glorfindel seemed unaffected, but then every now and again he might giggle, or sigh. Sometimes he would moan. Gildor began questioning him at those times, returning to those parts again and again until his lover was actually trembling beneath the light caress.
He already knew Glorfindel’s body rather well, but he would not forget Glorfindel’s reactions now, and he filed each and every one of them away while he pursued them, finding himself a little breathless and longing to touch with his hands.
It was not long before he was following the path of the feathers with a stroke of his hand, or a lick, or a gentle nibble with his teeth. He left a small love bite on the inside of Glorfindel’s left thigh, enjoying how the large muscle contracted beneath him. Sweeping the feathers up the hard ridge of Glorfindel’s cock, he followed that with his tongue, almost moaning when he tasted the pre come at the head.
Glorfindel was making repeated noises now; pleas, even, and his body was in constant motion, though he wasn’t really struggling. Instead, he was writhing, covered in sweat, his nipples and his cock so hard. He finished his exploration with the feathers by teasing at the crease between his lover’s buttocks, surprised and aroused when Glorfindel tried to spread his legs wider.
“Oh, melethron,” he purred. “Are you offering?” He looked at the warrior, seeing the need in every line of that magnificent physique. It was almost overwhelming, and he could feel his cock twitch against his own belly. He remembered, with a shiver up his spine, what had happened the last time he had come close to being allowed to take Glorfindel. This time, though, he would not wind up on his back, with Glorfindel doing the taking.
He reached for the oil, proud of the fact his hand did not tremble. “I will not refuse such an offer.” He dribbled a generous amount on his fingers, aware he would need to prepare Glorfindel well. He would never match his lover’s girth, but he was more used to being filled. He slid his finger where he had teased with the feathers, preparing Glorfindel with care. His lover was so tight around his finger, and he could feel the warrior tremble as he pressed in.
“Aníra nín, you feel so very good,” he murmured. “Trust me, Glorfindel. Trust me as I trust you.” He looked up at his lover, looking for confirmation the warrior could handle this. He felt a jolt of raw lust when he looked into Glorfindel’s eyes, the blue obscured by the way they were dilated with need. The rich golden curls framed his flushed cheeks, and the warrior was biting his lip with a groan.
“I trust you,” Glorfindel whispered, his voice husky and raw. “Do not tease me longer.” He looked unbearably beautiful, Gildor decided, as he strained against his bonds. He felt a tiny thrill as it occurred to him this was what Glorfindel saw when he was bound and helpless before the warrior.
Gildor was no virgin. He had known his lovers this way, as much as he had known the pleasure of being taken by them. Yet somehow this was different, and despite Glorfindel’s plea, he couldn’t help pleasuring himself as he applied oil to his cock, relishing the way his lover looked, hair in disarray on the pillow, eyes such a deep blue they reminded him of the sea.
From the way Glorfindel felt around the invading fingers of his other hand, he realised something else: that his previous lovers had not known him this way. Or very, very few of them. Quite suddenly he didn’t want Glorfindel to struggle at all. Instead he wanted Glorfindel to continue looking at him just like that, continue with those pleading whispers. Everything encouraged him, and he was so overcome with bright, burning lust that he almost missed that first moment.
Gildor savoured the resistance of Glorfindel’s body. Despite the somewhat hasty preparation, he had to force it, and it made his blood feel like quicksilver inside him. Suddenly he thrust - hard - sinking into that heat two or three inches, drawing a surprised cry from his golden lover.
He pulled back only to prepare for thrusting forward again, this time deeper. He was aware of everything, while Glorfindel’s eyes unfocused in cloudy pleasure. “Gildor,” he moaned, twisting his head and pulling on the ropes that held his arms. His legs were trying to raise up, stymied by the ties that bound his ankles. “Á care ancare! Amalimbe!”
Gildor caught his breath, nudging himself forward in a series of short movements. “Open up to me, then,” he said, gasping in arousal at Glorfindel’s desire. “Give me your body; nát melme cuilenyava…”
Each time he thrust, he dipped deeper into the molten core of his lover. Glorfindel was almost incandescent with need, and it was all he could do to maintain his own equilibrium in the face of his lover’s desire. He knew he needed to stay in control, both to keep faith with his lover, and to make sure he did not trigger anything dark within Glorfindel, for it was clear to him Glorfindel was well and truly lost in his pleasure. The warrior’s control was absent, and he needed to be strong for them both.
Gildor bit back a cry as he realised how strong Glorfindel had been, when Glorfindel had taken him to the very limits of endurance, and his heart swelled anew with love for his blond warrior. Truly the Valar had outdone themselves when Glorfindel’s fëa was given form.
Glorfindel was making those soft noises again, pleading without words, and he pressed into the welcoming heat. “Á rihta amalencave, ani lave sa-ista aqua,” he murmured, his voice tight with desire.
Beneath him, Glorfindel shivered, but his muscles relaxed a little, and Gildor moved faster, driving deep. He insinuated his still-oiled hand between them, stroking Glorfindel’s cock. He wanted to see his lover come undone, and know he had been the one to bring the warrior to release.
“Gildor…” The cry was wrung from Glorfindel’s lips as he strained a final time against the ropes. He could feel the way the warrior’s cock seemed to thicken in his hand, impossibly so, and then Glorfindel spilled over his fingers.
His cock remained hard in Gildor’s hand for at least a minute, his release drawn from him in fading pulses. His hand was warm and wet with Glorfindel’s release, and it seeped between his fingers until he could not keep a properly firm grip, but by then it was over anyway.
He’d been determined to ride out his lover’s release, but Glorfindel’s body was so deliciously tight, and when it throbbed around him to the same tempo as Glorfindel’s orgasm, he found he couldn’t hold back, and he followed his lover soon after, staying inside him until he felt too sensitive and had to pull away.
After that, he fell away to the side, then moulded himself to the warrior’s prone body, happy.
“How was it?” Glorfindel asked quietly, and Gildor grinned.
“Spectacular!” he said. When Glorfindel did not reply, he felt suddenly insecure, despite his experience, because Glorfindel seemed to know so much. Before he could frame the question, the warrior finally responded.
“Spectacular,” he said, as if tasting the word. “I think I can go with it. You were that.”
Gildor slid his arm across Glorfindel’s chest and turned to look into his eyes. “Do you think you could untie me now?” he asked. “It’s been a long night, and my arms hurt.”
Smiling, Gildor complied with the request, making quick work of the knots, setting Glorfindel free. To his surprise, the warrior moaned as he brought his arms down from the open position.
“Are you all right?” he asked in sudden concern. Glorfindel shrugged, then grimaced.
“Just sore. I will recover now that I am not expected to work.”
Gildor frowned, and sat up, looking among the items on the table for the ointment Elrond had given him. “Let me rub some of this in, after we bathe. It should help with the soreness, I think. I should have been quicker to free you.”
Glorfindel smirked as Gildor set to work on his ankles. “If you had, you would never have gotten your chance.” He laughed as Gildor shot him an indignant look over his shoulder. “You know it’s true. I would have had you on your back and been buried in you before you could blink.”
“Wicked elf,” he muttered, coiling the rope up neatly. “How are your legs?” He watched Glorfindel, anxious, as his lover bent his knees.
“Not as sore as my arms.” Glorfindel raised a brow, until Gildor settled back down, at his side, head on the blond’s shoulder. “This feels better, though.”
“We are going to have to think of something better.” He sighed and snuggled closer. “At some point, you will need to return to your duties, and you cannot be sore and achy. If only we knew why you were having the dreams, perhaps we could do something more. I feel so helpless!”
“And you sound so fierce.” Glorfindel pressed a kiss to Gildor’s head. “You are also completely spectacular. Now, let us cuddle for ten minutes, and we will go bathe.”
Gildor was happy with that suggestion, and it turned out to be longer than ten minutes while they dozed lightly together, not quite asleep, as the sun rose higher in the sky. It was good to linger, not least because they still required to have the baths to themselves so that no one could observe and question the marks on Gildor’s skin, though they were fading quickly thanks to Lord Elrond’s preparation.

To be continued...

Authors' Note: Thank you for reading – we hope you enjoyed that little role reversal! Please leave a comment if you can. Xx

Translations (Quenya):
hérince – little master
Á care ancare! Amalimbe! - Harder! Faster!
nát melme cuilenyava – you are the love of my life
Á rihta amalencave, ani lave sa-ista aqua – Slow down, let me feel it all

Translations (Sindarin):
melethron – lover
Aníra nín – my desire
fëa – soul/spirit
- 12
- 13
- 14
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Lost and the Hidden City