✨ Explicit (๑'• .̫ •ू'๑)
~ This chapter is spicy & skippable ~
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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 - 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚. '𝑻𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍.
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Note ~ below is a sexy little impromptu audiobook we threw together for the first 1/4th of the chapter.
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Also, we are making more such audiobooks of favorite older chapters with lots of Romantic Elvish. ♡
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Audiobook segment, read unprofessionally by us 😅
When Legolas entered their lounge, the squirrels were safely in their nest tucked inside Faeriel's magical bag. Faeriel was flopped in a cushy velvet armchair by the porthole window. Her chest and stomach rose and fell slowly, her full lips slightly parted, her lush lashes fanning over her dewy cheeks. She was fast asleep.
Legolas moved quietly to her, attempting to ignore the hot pangs in his groin as he beheld her sensual curves and parted lips.
My weary meleth... I shall remove her boots and bear her to bed, he thought. But she stirred as he drew near, waking.
"Mmm," she sighed, eyes still closed, lips curving in a smile. "Legolas," she whispered, voice soft, throaty and affectionate. Her lashes fluttered open and she tipped her tender gaze to his.
Legolas' heart glowed, and his breath caught, a fiery plume of longing streaking to his loins.
Faeriel blinked in awe. Standing there above her, Legolas was, as ever, a magnificent sight. His lean strength was perfectly gloved in his strong, sturdy garb wrought of mushrooms. The bright mithril shimmer of his mane stood out starkly in contrast to the dark cloth. The tidy, half braided style was sleek atop his head, the two smaller braids at his temples curving neatly behind his handsome pointed ears. Two satin curtains flowed free, framing his strong jaw and neck before cascading down upon either side of his chest.
Faeriel traced her eyes from his broader shoulders, following the elegant v shaped vine-like designs of his jerkin to the silver buckled belt adorning his slender waist. She was stricken by a fantasy of removing that belt.
Her regard wandered dreamily down his muscular legs then up again, meandering along his broad forearms clad in their vanguards forged of strong bark, to his silvery under-tunic capped by the vine adorned sleeves of his jerkin. Her focus shifted to those warm pillowy palms as he lifted them, reaching toward her. Legolas took her sleep-slackened hands in his. She gazed at the connection, curling her fingers to embrace his. Then she lifted her face, smiling up at him, relishing the feel of his supple, strong palms like firm pillows and large fingers laced with her smaller ones.
Legolas' heart clenched and wobbled. Faeriel was immeasurably adorable, dazzling, sweet and innocent. That delicious tingly pressure was swiftly gathering in his pants as he entertained a sudden flood of fervent fantasies. "Meleth nin, I am sorry to wake you," he breathed.
He moved closer, stepping between her thighs, relinquishing her hands to slide his arms around her shoulders where she sat.
Faeriel wrapped her arms tight about his slender waist and nestled her cheek in the little dip below the center of his chest. She felt his enticing bulge hard as a stone monolith against her torso. Her breath quickened as tingling heat trickled deep in her belly, seeping down to drench her swelling bud, but too she felt sublimely soothed by his embrace.
"Be not sorry," Faeriel murmured, gazing at the patterns on his jerkin sleeve, then at the curve of his bicep swathed in his silvery gray tunic beneath. "I have ached to be in your arms all week."
Legolas could feel her chest pillowing against his lower stomach and just below her upper torso pressed to his pelvis. He feared she was too tired to... but he could not banish his lustful feelings. He could feel himself, already hard as stone, throbbing with heat and need against her soft warmth. "I too... through every step of the long leagues we have treaded, " he murmured huskily.
His breath hitched as her hands slid lower, each cupping his bottom on the opposite side as she hugged him close. Ai! A low hum emerged from Legolas. He kissed the top of her head with tingling lips, rubbing her back with his broad hands. It felt like most of his blood was filling his groin, the throbbing, tingling sensation there seeming as potent as could be. Thrills ricocheted all around his spine and abdomen, quickening his breath.
When he pulled away, she tipped her chin up to look at him. Exhaustion was written on her visage, and such beautiful, infinite tenderness his breath caught again. "Let me bring you to bed. You are weary."
Legolas lowered to his knees before her. Hovering between her parted thighs he now lifted his chin to view her face above him.
Caressing one leg, he removed her boot. Her limb was completely languid, and he could sense such exhaustion in her, such fatigue... Yet... desire too. Watching her face, Legolas leaned forward and pressed his lips to the inside of her clothed thigh. Those glossy emeralds peered down, lust in the set of them, and as his mouth lingered, sliding up her inner thigh, her lips dropped open in a moan and she tensed, shifting in the chair, her eyes riveting upon him, taut with arousal.
Legolas had his answer. Just for a moment, he would see to it that the edge of her need was sated. Then he would ensure that she slept long and peacefully. Later, when she was refreshed, he could address his concerns with her.
Gently he drew off her other boot, then as one peeled her leggings and panties down her legs. Her vanilla scent grew richer, though her tunic skirt still covered her lap. Legolas glanced up at her face. Her lidded eyes were feasting on his every move, her lush lips parted as her breathing grew labored.
Legolas bequeathed a sultry smirk as he slid closer upon his knees, caressing her bare thighs. "Can you be hushed, meleth nin?" He whispered hoarsely, warm fingers teasing nearer. They were the only ones below decks, and the ship had reached the open ocean where the wind whistled loudly and the waves lent a soothing rhythm to the din. A small moan would go unnoticed, he decided, or at least forgiven. He wanted to tend to her swiftly then tuck her into bed.
Faeriel shivered, slumping in the chair, trying to arch closer to him, plumes of pleasure bursting through her middle. "Y-yes," she whimpered.
Legolas did not wait, he turned his face and kissed the heated skin of her inner thigh, intent on giving her the pleasure and relief she needed to sleep and recover. Faeriel gasped and fidgeted, spreading her thighs wider, sliding lower in her seat as he feathered his lips and nose upward toward her buch.
Legolas heard her whimpering oh so sweetly, just how he had fantasized all week. He felt her trembling hands land upon his shoulders, then glide up under his hair. Her fingers toyed with the tiny hairs at the base of his neck, which Legolas found both soothing and arousing. Her sweet vanilla ambrosia grew richer as he teased his lips closer, and he drew in a deep inhale, mouth watering.
Carefully his fingers folded back the hem of her tunic skirt, revealing her beautiful nether lips to his thirsty eyes.
A dizzy ache shot up into the depths of her belly as his avid sapphires locked on her buch. Tingly awareness shimmered in her sheath, muscles squeezing in hot erratic pulses that stole her breath as fiery tension kept mounting.
Legolas' breath hitched at the sight of her. The petals with their bud at the center perfectly resembled a pink rose. Glossy dew already shone like icing on a cake, with three glistening, juicy beads clustered vertically at the lower rim of her tight passage. As he gazed, the stream kept seeping from her, shimmering like moonlit waters, flowing betwixt the generous twin curves of her bottom.
Ai! His meleth was all tension. It fluttered in her aura and as he watched, her entire flower subtly twitched and tightened. Legolas knew her nether flesh was exceedingly sensitive, desperately eager for his tongue. And he was equally eager to lave her.
Legolas laid his hands upon her curvaceous thighs and encouraged her legs to spread further so he could better behold her. The prince caged a groan in his throat as Faeriel softly mewled and her pliant thighs parted all the way for him, hooking over the upholstered arms of the chair. Faeriel scooted lower on the cushion, tilting her hips, canting her buch to him like a flower welcoming the sun.
Tremblingly her fingers moved up upon his fair head. Finding his ears, she feathered her fingertips softly behind the shells. Legolas shuddered, a low moan escaping that had her palpitating even more feverishly.
His smoldering gaze lingered on hers a moment before raking down her body again to the place that flickered and swirled like pure liquid fire. Oohhh, he was too achingly beautiful, with those sensuous lips parted, eyes lidded and intent, aura brimming with intense passion.
As he savored the sight of her buch spread for him, slick and dripping with arousal, Legolas was stricken by the grinding need to bury himself inside her. Her glazed rosebud was so lusciously swollen, so beautifully taut, crowning the narrow well of such a lovely pink. Legolas let himself imagine feeding a part much larger than his tongue into her tight passage. Aiiii!
"My mouth waters, Faeriel," Legolas purred to her, and turned to mouth her inner thigh, so achingly close to her core. He kissed and he licked, sending a hot shiver sizzling all the way to her toes. "Mmm. Ci írui. Alae, rimmog. Thy sweet nectar flows like a torrent. Shall I teach you the words in Edhellen that you may bid your prince to lick you?"
His teasing tone delved straight between her thighs. "Ohh!" Faeriel gasped, shuddering with flaming need, her hands tightening in his satin tresses as his lips softly tantalized the tender border of her buch. "Yes, yes, yes..." she chanted.
Waves of achy pleasure tripped over one another as Legolas continued in that naughty whisper, his tone growing huskier, his lips lightly brushing both her inner thighs. "Say to me, 'Lavo nin,' he intoned in the huskiest voice imaginable. "To command me to lick you."
For a moment Faeriel was too breathless to speak as she watched his handsome face turn left and right, lips pursing against her, bestowing soft kisses as all the while he gazed seductively up with those mesmerizing eyes.
"Hmmmm," He purred against her, brushing a soft kiss just to the left of her trembling nether lips, strumming untold desire with the feel and sound and sight of him alike. A thrill shimmered down her spine, ending in a hot spurting gush that made her entire body quake.
What did he just teach me? Ohhhhh... Oh! Lavo nin!
"Lavo nin, Legolas!" Faeriel panted.
He was so close! Oohhh. She NEEDED his mouth on her. Her buch felt so achingly bereft, her desire like crackling fire, muscles ticking in slow ratchets to ever greater attention, bud swollen with tingly need and pounding like a drum.
He moved closer, supple lips a whisper away, hot breath making her pulsate wildly on the brink of release. Those gorgeous blue eyes flitted between her face and her tender valley, expression intent, awed and hungry.
"Say to me, 'Lavo i buch nîn,'" Legolas husked, sorely desiring to lick her and also to first hear her say this too, to utter more naughty words in Edhellen with her throaty bedchamber voice.
"Lavo i buch nîn," she breathed at once, every nerve cinched tight and whirring with fiery anticipation, her pulse a liquid beat throbbing hot between trembling, splayed thighs.
Legolas met her gaze, a sultry smirk tugging one corner of his mouth and dancing in his eyes. Still watching her, his tongue emerged from that smirk to lave the very verge of her buch. Shards of pleasure slicing through her, Faeriel stared at his achingly handsome face... his chiseled jaw, those prominent cheekbones lifted in a smirk.
He flicked the tip of his tongue up and down and then in a luxurious swirling path, nudging inward onto the brink of one shivering nether lip, though not yet delving between. The delay drenched her in an even more ferocious, fiery surge of palpitating desire. Faeriel gasped, teetering on the edge of utmost rapture. Then Legolas pulled back, hot breath fanning over her wildly pulsating center, only a whisper away.
"Legolas," she entreated. "Please... Don't stop... Lavo... nin... Lavo... i buch nîn," she gasped, each beseeching word laced with breathless pants.
A seductive smile flickered over his expression and slowly, deliberately, he breathed out a rich gust of heated air upon her needy core, making her shudder even harder upon the threshold of release.
Then suddenly Legolas closed the excruciating gap. His hot, supple mouth fastened upon her, sumptuously kissing the bud of her rose.
Tremendous pleasure pierced her at the advent of his touch. His mouth melted her, clove her asunder in shockwaves that reverberated through every fiber of her being.
Legolas licked and lapped, lavishing her molten, buzzing nerves, every ardent motion showing her she was profoundly cherished. The world narrowed to only Legolas, his nibbling lips and caressing tongue. As Faeriel moaned, his answering hum vibrated into her core, saturating her bursting nerves with even more impassioned heat.
Through slitted eyes Faeriel peered in dizzy bliss at her buch pressed to Legolas' achingly handsome face. Wet lapping sounds reached her ears as she felt her molten, fizzing flesh heave and dip like a stormy sea. Her body was tumbling, whirling under his limber tongue, her mind exploding with starry joy. The first crest turned her to shimmering liquid and every zenith after grew brighter, splashing her further apart.
Faeriel's release surged into Legolas like sea spray, drenching his groin and thrilling his soul. He gave a soft, low, dulcet hum in his throat as he splayed his tongue, stroking her satiny heated folds, her vanilla sweetness summoning the waters of his mouth. He caressed her inner thighs as she quaked, pressing her down at times, somewhat concerned she might topple from the chair.
Her slick vanilla icing tasted so heavenly, and into his tongue poured the pleasure he wrought in her. It surged through his veins, making him hum and sigh as he tended her.
Then Legolas closed his tingling lips around her succulent rosebud and sucked. The throaty semi scream that vaulted from her throat sent a hotter flare of desire through him. Swift and sure one hand shot upward, covering her mouth, reminding her to hush.
Mind overwhelmed by sheer physical delight, Faeriel had not hushed her scream, and she was intensely grateful that he had not withdrawn. And somehow, his hand upon her mouth aroused her even more.
Breaths rushed through her nose and mewls hummed softly in her throat as she peered down at his face shifting so intimately against her, licking and sucking her rosebud in a roughening rhythm. Each hard flick of his tongue eroded her tension into a swirling sea of ever greater pleasure.
Swept away in the tide, Faeriel writhed in the cushioned chair like an undulating wave, a trillion nerves turned liquid and shimmering in the sun. Legolas' sultry sapphires smoldered up at her as he devoured her supple buch with rising passion, pressing down, anchoring her to his agile, avid ministrations.
Her trembling fingers squeezed fistfuls of his satin locks, then her hands found his ears, tantalizing him. The ellon stared up at her panting face, her heaving bosom, feeling exhilarated as fire danced in his veins.
Legolas felt her opulent breasts pressing around his outstretched forearm, and longed to heft and knead them in his palm. One hand over her mouth was a necessity, but he slid the other up from her stomach and tugged the velvet of her tunic down, laying bare one gleaming opalescent breast. He cupped the round underside in his palm, and caught her blushing nipple in the crook of two fingers, kneading the pillowy swell with his entire hand whilst flexing his fingers tightly together to compress the erect, sensitive peak between. Shimmery tingles coursed from her breast into his hand, and the sensual moan he evoked in her throat added to their luster.
Legolas lapped and licked her, his tongue dancing over every part of her most intimate place. Her fruit grew ever juicier, her sweet release flooding the petals of her flower. Consciousness pooled into his tongue. The sensations swirled and coalesced, dizzying effervescence and luscious heat, the hot and heavy ache flaring and pulsing in his 'wî. His masculine groans rumbled against her as she uttered breathy mewls and shrill little cries.
Even as she hurtled through the endless loop of ecstasy, Faeriel's inner hollow felt suddenly empty and achy, as if she wanted him there too. Shakily she tried to rock her hips, seeking instinctively to embed her meleth inside her.
Legolas watched her lush lashes fluttering like lace against her dewy cheeks. Her desire for penetration swept through him like a tempest, eliciting an immediate fantasy of burying his shaft inside her. He groaned, and drew back ever so slightly, pausing with his lips gently grazing the swollen bud of her buch.
Peering up at her, he loosened the palm muffling her mouth. Ever so softly, Legolas stroked her full lower lip with his thumb. They both groaned. Pleasure burst in that finger and erupted along his wrist, mirrored at once in his powerfully twitching loins.
Enticed and mesmerized beyond measure, Legolas gently pushed his thumb up, feeding its broad length slowly into her mouth. Eagerly Faeriel facilitated, taking him in. He groaned, groin hammering with ferocious potency at the tight cloth of his pants, imagination overflowing as her wet tongue slid over his sensitive finger pad, her hot breath panting down over his palm. Aiiiii! How would that hot, wet cavern feel around my 'wî?
Then, eyes glistening under fluttery lashes, devouring the sight of him, his beautiful meleth gently bit and sucked. The world seemed to spin around Legolas as he stared, astonished and tantalized beyond measure. When her lips loosened in a breathy little moan he withdrew his thumb slightly, teasing the surface of her lips.
"'Pathro nin,'" he murmured in a hoarse rasp, enjoying the feel of his tingly lips brushing her wet center as he spoke, and of his finger pad feathering her rosy lips. "It means, fill me."
"Ohh," she gasped, shivering with excitement. "Oh, yes, Legolas, yes... Pathro nin!"
Legolas was too titillated to even smirk this time. He stared in fascination as she uttered those words: Fill me. He even swore he could hear her chanting them inside his mind.
He could scarcely wait to truly fill her, but he could do so then, at least a little, with the muscular length of his tongue.
Faeriel felt his tongue flex out against her once again, felt the hot press of him slide down, and all the while he kept his eyes locked with hers. Then she felt him flex against the slit of that profusely hot and achy hollow.
Faeriel sobbed as his tongue found the portal to her most intimate self and pressed up inside her. They both groaned, the stark pleasure reverberating through them both physically and spiritually. His warm tongue felt so soft and wet yet also firm as slowly he penetrated her deeper, making heat froth and boil in her wildly thrumming sheath, making all thought flee her mind in the avalanche of sheer pleasure.
Legolas beheld her with ardent awe as with a muffled cry she arched above him. Heat rocketed through his veins as her full breasts swelled out of her loose bodice. Somehow he managed to keep his hand over her mouth, striving to stifle her rising volume. With a start, belatedly he realized then that they could have done this in his magical bag. I am foolish to forget, he thought. Yet I shall not halt this now. It feels too wondrous to us both.
As he thrust deeper, her gasp turned into a half sob. Legolas began moving in a rhythm, relishing the intensely erotic clasp of her core. Keening a low sound, her entire body trembling, her tight channel quivered and flexed around his tongue.
Her pleasure cascaded into his tongue and frothed through him like the ship's foamy wake, the sensations coursing straight down to his 'wî like stormy waves dashing against rocks. Thrilled to feel their reciprocal bond blossom, Legolas began moving, flexing both his tongue and his entire head forward, impaling her satiny sheath as deeply as he could.
A keen, achy vibration tightened and heated deep inside her, intensifying with every deliciously firm thrust. His nose pressed to her rosebud as his tongue plunged in and out, deepening the magical, pleasurable ache. Faeriel was a melting deluge, her nether nerves boiling and coiling with exquisite mounting tension, stunned by this sudden gift.
Her lashes wanted to close over her eyes but she forced them to stay open and behold Legolas' handsome face as he dove his tongue into her body, devouring her in the only way an elf would ever devour a being.
Then suddenly like an earthquake, the tension deep inside her burst asunder, wracking her with hot, heavy throes. The explosion gushed and rippled; liquid fire streaked through her in plumes that glowed and consumed all else. Faeriel screamed in her throat, the sounds partly muffed under his hand as her whole body seemed to evaporate to swirling steam.
Legolas lingered inside her, flexing his tongue upward against that special spot, gazing in awe as the ever present soft luminescence of her skin brightened. An opalescent glow shone from her entire body, illuminating the dim room. He felt her sheath, soft and wet, fraught and fevered, spasming with climax, each pulsation clamping on his tongue like a fist, splashing him with her bliss.
Faeriel came undone more completely with each second that passed as Legolas pressed his tongue repeatedly up, hitting a magical spot. Her nerves sprayed asunder around his tongue like a wave crashing on a cliff, eroding more and more tension away. Her entire body felt like a stormy sea, beset by billowing swells borne on whipping winds. The frothy spume eddied back and forth between her hips. Dizzy swells splashed up her midriff and rippled down her thighs, each heady breaker leaving her more delirious with rapture.
Watching the pristine pleasure flow over her lovely face, and feeling it all pour into him was almost too deliciously erotic for Legolas to bear. Her hands were tantalizingly tight fisting the hair at the back of his head and her thighs shuddered, erratically jolting inward and jostling his ears, thrilling him even more.
Faeriel stared down at Legolas through pleasure slitted eyes and he opened his to lock with hers, smoldering up at her from under dark, low brows. His pupils were huge under lowered lids, and Faeriel could feel desire radiating off him. But he did not make any move to quench himself, he just kept delving his tongue inside her with increasing passion.
Her blood was magma and her nerves were stars, the vessel of her worldly form a whirlpool of sensation. His tongue felt so hot and wet and powerful, a solid flexing, filling, slippery delight that would have had her keening had he not been still stifling her mouth. Oh, Faeriel could not imagine any higher pleasure than this.
It all went on unceasing as Legolas steadfastly stroked that spot inside her. Cliff after cliff eroded away, plunging her into the seas of bliss, but then through it all something else seemed imminent, a new tension building even deeper inside her, a new dam of even greater proportions... Such as it always was with him.
Keen, tingly thrills arrowed up into the depths of her belly in dizzy delicious volleys, robbing her already scant breath. Every filling thrust of his tongue condensed the pressure, and deep within the ache spread, suspended and anxious.
The pressure built and built as Legolas' breathtaking eyes smoldered up and he made love to her with his tongue. He hummed, and Faeriel whimpered, sure she could not take any more pressure and waiting.
Then it was gushing through her, the pummeling force and tingling heat of it sheer rapture to her senses. Ohhh, she was melting, erupting, quaking between his mouth and the chair, her fingers buried in his hair. Faeriel keened behind his palm as his tongue split her asunder. The pulsing waves of bliss consumed her and she was floating free, anchored to the world only by his mouth on her.
Legolas felt a thrilling rush of her liquid pleasure squirt into his mouth along with her auric burst of joy. He hummed at the sweet taste, his loins hot and hard and throbbing with her rebounding thrills.
When the pulsing waves began to calm, again she felt him shift, and she cried as he closed his mouth again around her rosebud and sucked. Faeriel gazed down at him in elated wonder. His lashes fluttered, his eyes rolling back beneath them as he groaned, experiencing the flood of her pleasure in his own nerves.
That one husky groan was enough to send her soaring over another intense edge. The rich, resounding release wracked her as his alacritous tongue began fluttering faster than a hummingbird's wings, fragmenting her body into a steamy cloud of bliss.
Faeriel had just enough presence of mind left to keep her eyes open, savoring his breathtakingly handsome, mischievous smirk curving around his blur of a tongue. Ever it seemed to her that he splashed sensation further than before, washing away every last drop of tension. Her loins felt liquid as the sea, and still his firm mouth moved against her.
Pulses of her pleasure flared into his tongue, every one piercing his loins. Suddenly, with a jolt Legolas remembered that they had forgotten to drink their tea that day. The wondrous rapture flickered over his meleth's lovely face above, and Legolas flicked faster with his tongue, determined to drive her over one more dazzling edge before he remedied that.
When her buch poured another round into him, he came aware that her breathing had turned to hyperventilating, and she was sobbing with tears, tears of relief. Legolas gentled, lapping the sweet dew from her folds. He felt Faeriel slumping, weary and content, though still she gasped for breath and shook with sobs. Ai!
"Breathe, Faeriel," Legolas murmured, his voice completely husky. He gazed at her heavily pleasured rose, pink and dripping wet with her nectar and the waters of his mouth. Gently he kissed her nether lips, bestowing a few more licks into the tender opening where her nectar trickled. Aftershocks rippled there, the slick flesh pulsing against his tongue, making his hard groin throb with pleasure and longing alike.
Then he lifted his sultry sapphires to lock on her dazed, panting face. "You taste so divine, meleth nin. Pure and sweet like the fruits you eat. But I see that you are weary. I shall carry you to bed, and there you shall sleep as long as you desire."
Legolas picked her up and she flopped against him, her entire body languid in the aftermath of such fulfilling pleasure.
Faeriel felt utterly dazed, dreamy and light, as if she were floating on air, though she felt the solid strength of his lean body cradling her. With relaxed fingers she played with his hair, and she sighed as he claimed her lips mid-carry. Her vanilla nectar coated both their mouths by the time Legolas laid her in the bed and tucked the blankets around her.
There Faeriel peered up at him sleepily. "Leglas... R'you not getting in?" she murmured, speech slurring as her tranquil muscles protested any movement.
Legolas' heart quivered with glowing adoration. So endearing, he thought. "I'll be right back, meleth nin," he whispered, kissing her softly, and tucking the blankets more snugly around her.
By the time he returned with their brewed tea, Faeriel had dozed off, but gently he helped her sleepy form drink down the required cup before she slipped out of consciousness. "I love you," she whispered as she drifted into the realm of sleep. "Gi melin."
"Gi melin," Legolas echoed, climbing in to hold her close. "I love you."
It was a wonderful feeling to have Legolas lay down under the covers and gather her in against his warm, strong body. As sleep inexorably tugged her under its curtain, Faeriel felt a vague pang of guilt, like she had forgotten something. She dreamed of riding Legolas astride, and of putting her mouth all over him, and of tasting his wondrous limb.
Legolas spent the night imagining the very same, watching her sleep. Her skin still glowed brightly from the raptures of his tending. That heart shaped visage was relaxed and dazzlingly beautiful, and every so often she would mewl softly, besieging his hard 'wî with hot pangs of desire. At times it felt he was nearly suffocating with need. He prayed that naught would prevent them from a passionate embrace once she was restored. Perhaps he would only have to endure his sweet torment but a little longer.
The true torment was the memory of her near kidnapping, both by the spiders weeks past and less than a fortnight ago by that horrid monster in the spurious elven face. When these nightmares surfaced, Legolas buried his face in her soft warm tresses and sucked in deep breaths of her scent.
AN: (๑'• .̫ •ू'๑) As you can see I got inspired and added some fluff/smut but Part 1 will end and Part 2 will commence soon!