Part 9

Posted: November 2003
Author: Larien Elengasse

*~*

Third Age, October 8th, 2952, Last Homely House, Imladris

The door to Legolas' guest suite banged open as he and Aragorn stumbled through the door. He was delighted at the intensity with which Aragorn's passion had manifested itself; the Dúnadan had transformed from a shy young man to one consumed with desire. He moaned wantonly as Aragorn's rough hands slid inside his tunic, fingers pinching and gently twisting a pebbled nipple.

"Aiya, Aragorn…" the elf moaned. "I burn for you, melethron."

Aragorn's lips moved to the elf's ear, his hands seemingly unable to get enough of the silken flesh beneath them. "As I do for you, your highness," he growled. He was aroused beyond comprehension, never had he felt so desperate for another. He stripped the elf of his tunic, flinging it across the room. "Your skin is so fair," he whispered. "Like the purest ivory and soft as silk." His hands roamed across the finely muscled chest of the elf, he wondered at the softness of his skin that was devoid of any hair, silken smooth as the finest rose petal. His hungry lips moved to a dark nipple and he moaned as he was rewarded with a deep groan from the elf.

Legolas felt his arousal twitch inside his now too constricting leggings, the man's rough face scratching his sensitized skin, his warm lips and tongue performing wicked deeds upon his sensitive nipple. "By Elbereth," he whispered raggedly, amazed at the depth of want he felt for this young man. His long archer's fingers tangled in his hair, knotting it in his fists as he arched against him, pressing his chest to Aragorn's mouth.

They fell upon the bed as he unfastened the last toggle that held the man's robes closed. He pushed and tugged as Aragorn squirmed above him, the man's robe falling away to the floor. His fingers slid over the silk of Aragorn's loincloth before digging and gripping the man's muscled backside and pulling him closer. He growled as he thrust his now swollen arousal into the man's, earning a plaintive moan. He pressed his lips to the man's ear and whispered, "I am going to take until you have no more to give, until you are spent and wasted."

Aragorn moaned as he undulated on top of the elf. "Yes," he whispered. "Leave nothing."

Legolas rolled over his lover, flipping him to his back as Aragorn pushed against his leggings. Legolas rose and stepped out of his leggings and boots and stood before the man, watching Aragorn's eyes roam over his nude form. "Do you like what you see, Son of Arathorn?"

Aragorn sat up and looked at the vision before him, his skin was utterly smooth and hairless, the only exception was a fine dusting of hair that grew around his arousal. The Prince was perfection, not a single flaw, not a scar, not one small imperfection; he was like warm, living sculpture. "Uma…" he whispered. "You are beautiful."

Legolas smiled and climbed onto the large bed, straddling his new lover and stroking his hair. He watched Aragorn's eyes wander down his abdomen to his erect arousal and he whispered, "Do you want to taste me, melethron?"

Aragorn's hands came to rest on the elf's hips, his hands caressing the curve and sliding back to rest upon his muscled buttocks. "Yes, my Lord," he whispered. He reached for the elf with his mouth and buried his face in the elf's moist sex.

Legolas' head dropped back and he moaned as he felt his length slide between the man's lips. His hands came to rest upon Aragorn's head and he smiled as the future King of Men yielded to his commands. He thrust into his warm wet mouth, feeling his deep moans reverberate along his swollen length. His climax was building, warm, tingling heat building in his loins and pricking at his thighs. He felt Aragorn's teeth lightly scrape his quivering length and the fingers of one hand gently rub his entrance. He wadded his hands in the man's hair and groaned as he thrust deeply into the man's mouth, spilling his essence down the Dúnadan's throat.

Aragorn drank the elf's essence, swallowing every sweet, precious drop. He was so different from Elladan, sweeter, softer, and more ethereal. Yet, he was also strong; there was no denying his physical strength, his power, or his wisdom. The Prince was older than his foster brother, by several hundred years, and Aragorn sensed he could learn much from him. He allowed Legolas' softening length to slide from his mouth and he pressed his face to the elf's hip, nuzzling the soft skin and feeling the Prince's hands caress his hair. His own desire was painfully apparent, his rigid arousal straining against the soft silk of his loincloth.

Legolas sank to sit on his heels, still straddling the man, and he took Aragorn's face in his strong hands. He looked into the man's face and smiled. "You have been taught well, melethron; you have pleased me very much."

Aragorn looked at Legolas through eyes glazed with passion and he gasped and whimpered as the elf's fingers danced over the rise in his loincloth. "Would you please me?" he whispered raggedly.

Legolas smiled seductively and replied, "Yes, my Lord. I would please you more than you have ever been pleased before." He gently pressed the man to his back and snaked his way down Aragorn's body, his fingers gripping the straps of his loincloth and peeling it from his body.

Aragorn groaned as his heavy length sprang free of its silk prison and he felt the elf's lips caress it. He arched his back and moaned plaintively as Legolas teased his length, the elf's fingers caressing his thighs and abdomen. Legolas slid back up his body, combing his long fingers through the hair on his chest. The elf pressed a heated kiss to his mouth and he moaned as he felt his nimble fingers manipulate his pebbled nipples. "Please, my Lord," he whispered raggedly as the elf's lips left his own. "You torment me so…"

Legolas smiled wickedly and whispered against the man's lips, "I would not have you forget me when you return to your foster brother's bed, melethron. I would have my kiss and my touch burned upon your memory."

Aragorn moaned plaintively as Legolas tormented him further, and he arched and undulated beneath the Prince's strong body. Slowly his lover made his way lower, his soft lips caressing the juncture of neck and shoulder, teeth and tongue torturing his taut nipples, fingers raking over his heated flesh. His stomach shrank away from the elf's probing tongue, and his hips thrust upward reflexively as Legolas stroked his heated length. Onward his lover drove him, until he was breathless with want, begging for the wet heat of his mouth.

Legolas smiled and laughed softly, taking the man's quivering length in his hand and drawing his tongue along its length before teasing the tip. He pinned Aragorn's hips to the bed as he took his length in his mouth, feeling the hot, slick length slide between his lips. He savored the texture of it and his uniquely musky scent and salty taste.

Aragorn groaned and struggled to thrust into Legolas' mouth, but was unable; the elf had him securely pinned to the bed. His head thrashed from side to side as his lover began to swallow him, warm suction milking his seed from his body. "Saes…" he pleaded breathlessly and he felt the Prince's grasp slacken as he began to thrust upward into his mouth. He felt his release build inside him until he thrust forcefully upward, his fingers tangling in the elf's hair as he arched his back, spilling down his lover's throat.

He lay panting upon the bed, Legolas' warm, soft tongue cleaning him in long, slow strokes, quiet purring sounds coming from deep in his chest. He shivered as he felt his lover's hands slide up his torso and the elf's arousal slide up the inside of his thigh. He slowly opened his eyes and gazed into the Prince's radiant face. Legolas smiled at him as his lips closed upon his own and he moaned into the kiss, raising his arms and encircling the elf's strong, lithe form.

Legolas laid his head on the pillow next to Aragorn's and whispered, "Was that to your satisfaction, melethron?"

Aragorn chuckled and nodded. "Aye, most definitely."

Legolas rolled his hips forward, his rigid arousal sliding against his lover's. "I would have more of you, if you would permit it."

Aragorn trembled beneath the Prince and whispered raggedly, "I have only done that once before, Legolas."

Legolas smiled and whispered, "How long ago, handsome one?"

Aragorn flushed. "Just this morning."

Legolas brushed a damp piece of hair from the man's forehead and heard him sigh. "Aahh, then it is most likely too soon to experience it again."

Aragorn inserted his hand between their bodies and took the elf's arousal in his hand. "There are other ways I can give you pleasure, my Liege," he whispered.

Legolas moaned quietly and pressed his lips to Aragorn's ear as he thrust into his grip. "Yes, Son of Arathorn, there most certainly are."

* * * *

Elladan's fingers dug into the wood of his bedpost. Lindir mercilessly swallowed him and he hissed as he thrust forward into the elf's mouth. He was buried to the hilt in Lindir's wet embrace, his testicles brushing Lindir's chin with each thrust, never had he seen one that could work such wonders. He groaned as he felt Lindir's fingers massage his entrance, and one slender digit slid inside him. He struggled to hold on, but his climax was coming fast. He could feel it burning his blood, roaring inside him when he nearly collapsed at the loss of heat and suction. He opened his eyes, and dazedly stared into those of the elder elf.

Lindir smiled wickedly. "Mmm… not yet, my young Peredhil," he whispered. He trailed his fingers through Elladan's unbound hair, marveling at its rich color and weight. He crooned, "You are positively decadent, Elladan; so seductive, as if you were born for this very purpose." He traced the Peredhil's ripe lips with his fingers, as his own curved into a smile. He continued, "I suppose this is somewhat different from what you imagined, yes? Once the tutor, now the student?" Elladan cried out as he felt the bite of metal at the base of his engorged length and his knees buckled. Lindir caught him in his arms and caressed the curve of his ear with his tongue. "'Tis been too long that you have dallied with that boy, Elladan. A body such as yours was meant for far better things." He gripped Elladan's buttocks his hands and squeezed, earning a plaintive whimper from the nearly limp form he held in his arms. He felt Elladan's fingers dig into his shoulder blades and he smiled, this one was finally his. All those years of playing the shy minstrel, casting sly glances, uttering humble words, had finally paid off. He now held the object of his long denied desire in his arms, and the Peredhil was his, utterly.

Elladan nuzzled his tutor's ear and whispered plaintively, "Saes, melethron, Im baur…"

Lindir laughed softly and laid his pupil's body upon the bed. His lips caressed Elladan's and he whispered against his mouth, "Mmm, I suppose you do indeed." His fingers danced over Elladan's quivering length and he smiled. "I want to watch you come, mir nín, I want to watch your eyes flutter and your skin flush, I want to watch your lips form my name as you cry out to me," he whispered huskily. "I want to watch your body as it succumbs to my touch and see the opalescent seed as it spills from your trembling form." He tugged at the point of Elladan's ear, hearing him whimper. "I want to hear you pledge yourself to me and me alone, Peredhil, to swear you will never want another as you want me." He watched a silvery tear fall from Elladan's eye. He pressed his lips to his pupil's ear and whispered, "I know you love him, but that will fade in time. He was not meant for our world, Elladan, and you know it. Love him if you must, but your body and your desire will be mine." He teased Elladan's ear with his tongue again and whispered, "Say it, Elladan, say you belong to me."

Elladan was overcome with aching need, in the back of his mind he knew Lindir's words were true. Aragorn would leave, he would meet his destiny and become King, and there was no place for him as his lover there. He remembered his own words to Aragorn earlier that day, ‘I will always love you, Estel, whether you share my bed or not. We will always be brothers.' He swallowed and whispered in hushed and silky tones, "I belong to you, Lindir. I am yours."

Lindir removed the ring from Elladan's swollen arousal and took him in his hand. He smiled in satisfaction as the younger elf arched beneath him, his voice thick with need as he called out Lindir's name. He watched his eyelids flutter and his lips form his name and watched his essence spill from his body, coating his hand. "Mmm… bain, meleth nín (beautiful, my love)," he whispered against Elladan's full lips. He brushed away the tears from his cheeks and purred in his ear, "One day you will cry tears like that for me, lirimaer."

Elladan sighed as he sank into the warm afterglow of his spent desire and trembled beneath his new lover's skillful touch.

*****

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