Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Lost and the Hidden City	By : pip & BronxWench Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2742 -:- 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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter Six
Once he was aware enough, Gildor wanted to return that loving embrace, but realised his hands were still secured above his head. He pulled at them - to draw Glorfindel’s attention to it rather than to struggle - but he was not set free.
The warrior’s warm chuckle rippled over him like a touch, making him shiver in new awareness. “Oh, my captive beauty,” Glorfindel said, amused. “We still have business before you earn your freedom.”
As he spoke, he turned his body slightly, and something hot and heavy came to rest on Gildor’s thigh. His breathing quickened, and he moaned, feeling a rush of something in his lower body, but not enough. It was too soon, and he was spent. Now or later. This was later. He opened his eyes, only to find Glorfindel gazing at him, and whatever Glorfindel saw there made him roll over completely to trap Gildor beneath him.
He let out a breathy moan, Glorfindel having moved so quickly he had not even had time to open his legs. He tried to arch upward anyway, wanting to feel Glorfindel’s cock against him. His bound wrists prevented him from touching any other way.
“Please,” he tried, his eyes never leaving Glorfindel’s face. He could not imagine anything more beautiful.
“Please, what?” Glorfindel responded. He sounded amused to Gildor. “What is it you desire? Do you want me to describe what business we have yet before us? Very well.” His large hands began to explore anew, remapping territory he thought would have been more than familiar by now. “You have been very wonderfully obedient, and you have surrendered with such pleasing grace. I trust you were rewarded appropriately.”
He nodded carefully, warmed by the suggestion of a smile which curved Glorfindel’s lush mouth.
“Now it is my turn, mîr nín. Now I will please myself, and I do not intend to hurry. I will fill you, and drive you to the edge of pleasure over and over again, until I am ready to find my own release. I will feast on your cries, and delight in your helpless writhing.” Glorfindel’s voice was low and silken, a dark and seductive purr. As he listened, as he was being stroked and opened, he felt a response which should have been impossible, and he ghosted another moan.
He trembled, but it was from desire, from a desperate need for Glorfindel’s words to translate into reality. Perhaps it was the bindings Glorfindel had used on him, but suddenly the idea of existing for Glorfindel’s pleasure was appealing to him.
His legs were open now, with bent knees, the way Glorfindel seemed to like. It was a posture that opened his body to the fullest extent, and he knew he was ready. Glorfindel was covering himself with oil, and Gildor found himself imagining impossible things. Who had sent Glorfindel back? Had they foreseen this, foreseen them? Did they tell of it? Did they whisper dreams into Glorfindel’s ear as he slept on the long journey back to Middle Earth?
What he knew was that when Glorfindel eased inside him, it made his body burn with desire, and there was no fear. He imagined himself promised as a reward for Glorfindel’s deeds; not just his body but all the love in his heart. His eyes were closed, but when he heard Glorfindel whisper his name, it didn’t seem so impossible after all.
“Use me, ogol ellon nín,” he said. “Take your pleasure, melethron. I want it too.”
He could feel himself responding already, filling and thickening, even if he would never match the splendour of his lover. Glorfindel purred as he stroked Gildor, encouraging his response. “Oh, yes, you do want it, most precious treasure that you are. But even as much as you want to please me, I do not think you will last as long as I desire.”
“I can last.” He hurried to reassure his lover, but a finger over his lips stopped any further outburst.
“I am not trying to insult you, my fierce beauty. I want you on my terms, though, and if I choose to use aids, or devices, such as the bindings holding you to my bed, I will do so.” Glorfindel fondled his sac, and he moaned as he came alive in his lover’s hand.
Glorfindel released him, and he sighed with the loss, until he felt something slide over his skin. It was cool, but warmed quickly as Glorfindel lifted his sac and wrapped it beneath his balls, and over his shaft. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Ensuring you will last.” The words did little to explain, but soothed him anyway.
At last Glorfindel seemed happy to move and begin, and Gildor moaned an affirmative, enjoying the helpless feeling of being restrained. It seemed as if he was completely helpless. Even the oil made his body defenceless, so that Glorfindel - despite his size - slid in and out of him in a smooth, easy motion, skimmed over the internal muscle. It felt so good Gildor was sure, despite his reassurance, he would not last like this.
He was sweating again, but he felt hot, and the way Glorfindel was leaning over him only added to it. And then he was sure it was happening. His body seized as Glorfindel continued to fuck him, and it lasted, and lasted. Gildor was sure he almost screamed, and soon a large hand was covering his mouth to keep him quiet. Beneath that hand he was still feeling it, as if he were hurtling over the edge.
“There. That is better,” Glorfindel said, ending his words with a nearly silent moan of appreciation as Gildor shuddered and almost broke apart beneath him. Gildor could feel himself, and that he was still hard. It didn’t seem possible.
After another minute or so of the most intense pleasure, he felt it rising in him again, and this time he really did struggle. It was impossible not to, however much he wanted Glorfindel, and yet it was easy for the warrior to hold him still for it, grasping his legs and leaning close so that Gildor could do nothing but take it, endure it.
Pleasure was skirting perilously close to pain, and he heard a soft whining sound. It took a moment to attribute the sound to himself. Glorfindel changed the angle of his thrusts, and while he was no less full, the hotness subsided just a little, and he could breathe again. “Ai, Iluvatar,” he moaned, tossing his head in helpless surrender.
He was sweaty enough that his hair stuck to his cheeks, and he felt tears leaking slowly from the corners of his eyes. He could not fathom how Glorfindel could last for so long, even if he had brought his lover to completion with his mouth. He had lost his grasp on time, though, and for all he knew, it could have been hours since then. He did not want it to stop, but he was not sure if he would be able to handle much more.
“Do not fight it,” Glorfindel murmured, brushing away the damp locks from his face. “Let go, and I will be there to catch you.” He leaned forward to feather a kiss over Gildor’s sweaty brow.
He did not know what Glorfindel wanted of him, and he did not have thought to spare to wonder about it. All he knew was the way Glorfindel was moving in him, and how his body responded to that. He did not have to think about it, and from the overload of sensation he was worried he might be bearing down, but then he also yielded. In fact, it felt as if his body was caressing Glorfindel, alternately squeezing and inviting.
“Oh, yes,” Glorfindel praised. “That is it, bain nín.” The warrior let go of a deep moan as he continued, but he was close now, and he only managed a handful of movements before the fluidity of his rhythm began to falter. He was bigger now, and harder. Gildor felt another impossible crest approaching, and his breathing stuttered desperately.
Perhaps he wasn’t fully conscious, but as the pleasure claimed him, he had flashes of what was happening to him. Glorfindel leaving his body, and hands undoing both of the restraints placed upon him tenderly. Glorfindel’s voice, as coaxing and encouraging as his hand. As warm as that, and this time Gildor knew he’d made it past the point from before. His climax was so absolute he was only half aware of crying out, of clutching Glorfindel’s arm with his freed hands, his nails digging deep into his lover’s skin.
He drifted for a time, lost in the sweet pleasure of his release, and in the knowledge he had brought his lover to that edge as well. He could feel the heat from Glorfindel’s release deep within him, and the warmth of strong arms around him. He smiled, and turned his face to nuzzle Glorfindel’s powerful chest. More warmth, and the steady reassurance of a beating heart anchored him as firmly as the satin which had encased his wrists.
It was far too much effort to try to comprehend the soft words Glorfindel crooned into his ear. The tone was loving, and it was sufficient to make him smile again. He had pleased his lover. Nothing else mattered, not now. He had seen more of himself than he believed possible, had achieved things he would never have conceived of before Glorfindel. He sighed, and let himself drift again, lost in the slow unwinding from the dizzying pinnacle to which he had been brought.
When he surfaced again from his lazy dreams of passion, he began to roll over onto his side, thinking to move closer to the intoxicating heat that was Glorfindel. Movement woke all the tender places from their earlier games, and he hissed a little at the reminder of how well he had been used thus far. He felt the rumble of Glorfindel’s rich chuckle as he nuzzled into hard muscle graced with downy gold.
“Wicked elf,” he murmured, then smirked secretly, face pressed into Glorfindel’s chest so that he would not see it. “I think that we shall both have to bathe again,” he said, then noted a kind of quickening in Glorfindel. He shook his head sharply, so that his lover would feel it. “Separately!”
Gildor would have moved away slightly, if he could, if his body wasn’t so utterly worn out. While he did not think he was in any danger from a recovered Glorfindel yet, recent experience told him he shouldn’t expect too long.
Perhaps Glorfindel had always been like this. Perhaps that was why he kept so many lovers before - because a single elf could not hope to satisfy his demands. That thought made Gildor gulp, because it seemed things were different now.
I am only concerned with you.
“Ahem,” he began, clearing his throat because the thoughts he was having seemed to have thickened it somehow. “I wonder if you might see your way clear to allowing a body to recover before you continue in your ploy to get me hopelessly addicted to you.”
That chuckle again, and it resonated through them both. Gildor smiled, his mind resilient, bouncing back quickly from the test Glorfindel had put him through. “How long?” asked Glorfindel eventually.
Something in Gildor was dancing around in glee. This was too easy! Glorfindel might have the upper hand in certain physical ways, but it was going to be such fun winding him up. “Oh,” he said, as if deliberating. “I think I will be good, once the moon has waxed and waned three times.”
“Three times.” Glorfindel rolled the words around in his mouth, and made them sound like a dirge. “Three full turnings of the moon. Have I used you so roughly, then?” There was concern now, and it made him shiver, just a little. Glorfindel made it almost effortless.
“I am only a simple elf, and not a sturdy warrior.” He sighed a little, one hand creeping up to rest against Glorfindel’s chest. “There is just so much I can take, despite all my good intentions. I really would like to become hopelessly addicted to you, though, so I hope you can be patient with me.”
“You should have said something to me sooner, mîr nín.” Glorfindel’s tone changed, doubt creeping in. “It is a very long time to wait.”
He wondered if this was a request Glorfindel had encountered before, given how mournful the warrior sounded. He was not about to relent, however. “I suppose you will think I’m not worth the wait.” He sighed again. “I really could not fault you if you changed your mind about me.”
“Changed my mind?” Glorfindel echoed, and suddenly the warrior’s arms tightened around him, pulling him even closer. Now the chuckle was back. “I do not think so,” he said, and Gildor felt a warmth in his heart at the proof of Glorfindel’s passion, even his possessive nature.
At length, Glorfindel sighed. “We will sleep, and in the morning we will rise early enough to bathe with the others.” He sounded somewhat as if he were planning ways to resist temptation, and Gildor almost admitted to his teasing there and then. But no… it would be better in the morning, when he could seduce Glorfindel into it.
Actually, it was quite nice like this, because he could snuggle into Glorfindel’s arms to sleep, head laid on his lover’s shoulder. Gildor yawned as Glorfindel pulled up the covers over them both. It was like a warm and secret world between the two of them, and he drifted off easily once he felt Glorfindel relax, his heartbeat slowing as he succumbed to reverie.
“Meleth nín.” It was a quiet whisper, just on the edge of sleep, a tender wish, a hope, and when the morning came, Gildor could not be sure if he had heard it, or dreamed it.

To be continued...

Authors' Note: Glad you're still with us, we hope you're enjoying this little slashy idyll. Something will come to disturb them soon, always sooner than you'd wish to see it. But there will be a few more games first.

Translations:
mîr nín – my treasure
ogol ellon nín – my wicked elf
melethron – lover
Ai, Iluvatar – Oh, God
bain nín – my beauty
Meleth nín – my love
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Lost and the Hidden City