When Celegorm splayed himself out, offering himself up for Thranduil's pleasure, a hot blast of possessive fervor slammed through the king. His mouth went dry as he lost all air. He drank in his lover from the top where his damn hair stood at odd angles and made him want to run his fingers through it, feel the slide and rasp and brush of it against his palms before he tugged -- hard -- and bent those sweet lips to his own. He gazed into blue eyes and felt a kinship, an awe, a challenge, and a sense of connection that was both foreign and familiar; like standing at the height of a waterfall before plunging into the cool depths below.
And Thranduil took that challenge, plunging in even as he wondered if he'd ever want to surface again.
He climbed onto the bed and straddled Celegorm, palms sliding over his lover's lean muscled form. "You are beautiful," he murmured absently as he flicked a dusky nipple, stroked a harden bicep, nibbled along a damp neck. "A feast," he purred, lips settling on a pulsepoint before he sucked, hard, firm, and fast, but not overly long. "I want to devour you," he growled, low and hungry before sealing their lips together.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-03-13 02:47 pm (UTC)And Thranduil took that challenge, plunging in even as he wondered if he'd ever want to surface again.
He climbed onto the bed and straddled Celegorm, palms sliding over his lover's lean muscled form. "You are beautiful," he murmured absently as he flicked a dusky nipple, stroked a harden bicep, nibbled along a damp neck. "A feast," he purred, lips settling on a pulsepoint before he sucked, hard, firm, and fast, but not overly long. "I want to devour you," he growled, low and hungry before sealing their lips together.