A Perfect Day

A Perfect Day

Posted: February 16, 2007
Title: A Perfect Day
Author: Jay of Lasgalen
Type: FCS
Characters: Elrohir/Legolas, Elladan
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s, not mine

Summary: Elrohir wakes at the start of a perfect day – and Legolas is about to make it even better! Elladan makes a brief appearance.

*****

Elrohir stretched languidly as he woke. It was not long past dawn, and already there was a promise of warmth in the morning. It would be another perfect day – and one that he was at leisure to enjoy with Legolas, thanks to Elladan. He stretched again, contemplating the prospect with pleasure, and was startled when his wrists were seized and held in a gentle grip.

“Legolas? What …”

Legolas knelt over him and smiled down. “You remember,” he murmured, “that I spoke to you of my fantasy?” His smile widened. “Now seems the perfect time to indulge myself.” As he spoke, he bound strips of silk around Elrohir’s wrists and tied them to the bars at the head of the bed. “You did agree,” he added.

“Mmmm,” Elrohir admitted rather inarticulately. “I did.” Legolas’s request had taken him by surprise, as had his own eager acquiescence. He was not by nature submissive – neither of them were. Yet somehow the thought of being bound, helpless and totally at his mate’s mercy proved to have a strangely erotic appeal – and Legolas could be most inventive at times. He stopped tugging at the restraints and made himself relax.

As Legolas tied a blindfold around Elrohir’s eyes, he leaned forward and flicked his tongue against Elrohir’s mouth. “Do you trust me?” he breathed.

Elrohir grinned. “Trust you? Aye. After so long together, there would be something wrong if I did not!”

“Good.” Legolas moved away, and Elrohir was left to imagine what he was doing or planning. Enticing images came to mind and he felt his shaft stirring already as an anticipatory thrill snaked through him. “You are eager, I see!” Legolas murmured. “We will have to do this again.”

Elrohir suppressed a groan as a puff of warm breath bathed one ear, and his shaft twitched again.

“Be patient,” Legolas chided. “There is a long way to go yet.”

That sounded faintly ominous. Elrohir listened, and heard the sound of a cork being removed from a bottle, then waited for the gentle sweep of an oiled finger against his entrance – but it appeared that Legolas had other ideas. Instead he gasped as a thin trail of cold liquid was poured slowly across his chest and stomach. He sniffed, and identified the heady, potent liqueur fermented from last autumn’s sloe berries. “Tis early in the day to be drinking,” he commented, trying to keep his voice steady. It was frustrating – and a little unnerving – not being able to see Legolas, or anticipate his actions, but he contented himself by imagining his mate – sun gold hair hanging loose, his eyes pine-coloured with desire, and the familiar gentle smile that was reserved for Elrohir alone.

Even though he anticipated Legolas’s next move, Elrohir could not help giving a strangled moan as a tongue swirled into his navel, lapping at the sloe wine pooled there. He jerked upwards convulsively, and felt strong hands pushing him back down on the bed.

“Patience! Be still, or you will spill the wine!”

Elrohir bit back a spurt of laughter, then moaned again as the tongue probed deeper, and began to lick a soft trail across his stomach, catching every stray droplet of the sloe wine. The movement was slow and sensual, deliberately tantalising, and he writhed ineffectually against the restraints. Legolas moved across his skin erratically, tongue and hands tracing unseen patterns as they roved, licking and caressing a tender path that left a burning trail in its wake. Stifling another moan, he fought hard to control his body’s reactions. Legolas had not even touched his erection yet, but he was already hard and aching, hovering on the brink of orgasm. He swallowed hard, biting his lip until he tasted blood, and forced the feeling aside – but only for a moment. As Legolas moved upward across his chest Elrohir arched again as the soft tongue lapped at his nipple, suckling gently.

“Ai!” He swallowed another cry as he felt the nip and bite of lips and teeth. “Stop – please stop,” he pleaded, feeling the imminent surge of release once more.

Legolas drew back a little. “Do you really mean that?” he asked laughingly.

Elrohir could only imagine the impish grin. “No …” he moaned, not knowing what he wanted or meant. He could not bear any more of this sweet torment, but did not want it to ever end. His next words were stifled as Legolas took his mouth, plundering him. He could taste the sweet liqueur as their tongues tangled together, and the assault left him limp and breathless. It had given him a moment’s respite though, and he had taken another step back from the precipice.

“Perfect,” Legolas whispered, his voice not quite steady. There was a faint splash as more wine was poured from the bottle, and he heard Legolas drink. And then … he arched upwards again with a desperate howl as Legolas swallowed his shaft deeply. He could feel the slight sting and burn of the liqueur on the sensitive skin, and moaned in wanton need. His hands, still bound, clutched at the bars on the bed, tugging ineffectually as he thrust upwards into Legolas’s mouth. Before he could find completion it was again denied to him, and he gave a moan of frustration as his shaft was released.

“Patience,” Legolas murmured again. “I have not finished with you yet.”

He howled again as Legolas moved lower, his tongue this time circling the tight entrance to his body, probing and breaching and delving deep. Elrohir groaned at the slow exquisite torment, and cried out again as Legolas lapped at him once more. He pushed down against the invading tongue, trying to force Legolas deeper. “Yes!” he hissed fiercely. “Now!”

He tightened his grip on the bars and pushed again, then jumped as there was a thump on the door that led to the sitting room he and Elladan shared.

“Legolas!” Elladan’s voice shouted. “I do not know what you are doing to my brother – and I do not want to know – but some of us are trying to sleep! El, please bequiet!” There was another thud on the door, then silence.

Elrohir took a deep breath, fighting for composure, but could not help the tremors of laughter that shook him. Legolas fell against his side as he too began to laugh helplessly. As their mirth subsided, Elrohir sighed. “Curse Elladan,” he commented mildly. “He does have a way of spoiling the moment.”

Legolas chuckled. “He does. I suppose we should thank him, though – if he had not agreed to take on your duties in addition to his own we would not have this time together.” His voice became softer. “And this time is precious. I still have you at my mercy.” His voiced dropped even lower. “You are still bound. Still blindfolded. Still hard and aching with need. Still desperate for release.”

Elrohir shivered as the rich voice went on. “And you still do not know when I will relent.” The tongue was back again, licking at the inside of his thigh, so softly he could scarcely feel it – but it sent shock waves throughout his body again. He managed to swallow his shrill cry, suspecting that Elladan would insist on him being gagged the next time, but he was teetering on the edge again, and this time did not have the breath or energy to fight his impending climax. He began to gasp raggedly and Legolas finally relented. He engulfed Elrohir’s erection again, his tongue swirling around the tip and along the ridged veins, swallowing and sucking.

Orgasm crashed through Elrohir, and he came in shuddering bursts, filling Legolas’s wickedly skilled mouth with his seed as he thrust upwards again and again, uncaring now of his moaning cries. As last he fell back limply, spent and shaking – but even now Legolas had not finished with him.

His mouth was plundered again, and he could taste his own seed as Legolas thrust his tongue deep into his mouth. The action was mirrored as Legolas’s shaft – hard, oiled, and hugely erect – thrust into him without warning. Elrohir’s cry was stifled by the deep kiss, and he arched upwards again, inviting Legolas to take him harder and deeper and faster. Moments after that first intense orgasm he came again, pulling Legolas over the brink with him, and feeling the hard spurt of Legolas’s seed deep within him as his mate thrust into him again and again.

His hands clenched convulsively on the bar as he pushed down, impaling himself further on Legolas’s length. There was a sudden sharp crack as the wooden strut splintered and snapped in two beneath his grip. Freeing his wrists with a sharp tug, he twisted his fingers into Legolas’s hair, pulling him down into the kiss, twining his legs about Legolas’s waist and pulling him even deeper. He gave a savage grin as Legolas cried his name in a sobbing wail, suddenly realising that he was the ultimate victor – as if it mattered at all.

At last, they drifted together in sated bliss. The remnants of the silken bonds were still tied to Elrohir’s wrists as he cradled Legolas against him, stroking his hair. As they fell asleep together, Elrohir gave a lazy smile. It had been the perfect start to a perfect day.

*****

THE END

Go to the next story in the series: A Perfect Night

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Jay of Lasgalen