Optional Extra Scene 3: The Student becomes the Master

 

 

He groaned with relief as her hands worked, muscles softening and body relaxing under her touch. She moved up to the back of his neck, rubbing and stroking, up under his long dark hair to the nape. Then onto the scalp, gently circling her fingers over the whole head. His eyes were closed now, and he leaned back in the chair, long legs relaxed and arms loose. She changed to a softer motion, lightly stroking his long hair back from his forehead. Her hands trailed down, fingertips feather light, behind the ears to the neck, and she gathered up his sleek hair into one hand, and lifted it, bending her head to gently kiss the back of his long neck. She smiled to herself as she remembered how she had wanted to do this the very first time she saw him.

 

He quivered, and she touched her lips to him again, the lightest of kisses on his soft skin, following the hairline and on upwards until her warm breath touched his exquisite ear. So curious, so beautiful, so Elven, never did she tire of it.  She released his hair in a soft fall and ran her hands over his shoulders to caress the smooth skin of his chest, feeling the shape of hard muscle and carved bone beneath her palm. Lips on his ear now, softly, softly. He sighed, stretching his limbs with pleasure, the sound causing her a thrill of anticipation. Her kisses were more demanding now and her hands insistent, fingers spreading, reaching lower. And when she brought tongue and teeth into play, exploring and caressing every fold of his ear, the resulting groan did not disappoint her. Now she moved around to take his face in her hands, running the fingers lightly over his elegant features. Familiarity had failed to sate her with his beauty, giving her only the freedom to enjoy it. Tracing the jaw and running fingers over the sensuous lips, then up past the arch of the brows and on into his hair. Looking down at him with hungry eyes, she lowered her mouth to brush his. His hands moved to caress her. Her mouth was firmer now, then adamant, demanding, gently pulling on his, softly biting the lips and delving deep with her tongue. His touch became more urgent.

She lifted a leg and slid onto his lap, pushing her hands back into his hair and pulling herself against him, mouth seeking again, hips moving ever so slightly against his readiness. His hands were firm against her back, his mouth soft and sweet beneath hers, and when she released him he gasped for breath. She leant back slightly, watching his hungry eyes with a touch of amusement as she began to unfasten her robe. Slowly she made her way down, before easing it open and sliding it off. The fine thigh-length undertunic highlighted her secrets while doing nothing to hide them.He watched, rapt, eyes and mouth eager, as she caressed herself through the sheer material, running hands and fingers fervently over her breasts and nipples, sighs of pleasure from her half-open mouth. Soon she moved lower, fingertips daring, accompanied by provocative gasps.

He groaned aloud, his hands hungry on her thighs and hips, and her mouth reached for his again, her breasts firm against his chest. He pulled her in close, his breath hot and urgent in her ear. She sat back to unfasten and free him while his fervid fingers touched her both through and under the cloth. Taking him in her hands, she stroked him. One hand then the other, gently at first, then a little firmer. He groaned and leaned back in the chair, watching her fingers work, lifting his hips, eyes dilated, mouth soft.

“Gil,” he moaned, pleading.

But she was not finished, and when she shifted her position to lower her mouth to him, he gasped aloud with the sheer unexpected pleasure of it, to both touch and sight. With lips and tongue she teased and delighted, till he was helpless and trembling. She released him, to move forward, lifting one leg at a time, and straddle him, balanced on tiptoe as she poised, ready.

His ardent hands caressed her urgently, and he panted with desire.

“So,” she whispered, just touching him, “do you reckon the due is paid?”

He groaned, eyes heavy with want and soft with love, and whispered, his voice throaty with need, “I think…. that the student has become the master.” Then his voice was drawn away as she lowered herself onto him, enveloping him in her heat, a cry of pleasure escaping her. He clasped her close, strong hands against her back and in her hair, his breath heavy on her neck.

A slow, white hot fire was stoked. Sparked by their desire, fuelled by their bodies and fanned with each gasping breath, it threatened to consume them.

“Elrond,” her voice was a trembling whisper, as she clung to him, moving with him, “Oh, my lord. My love.”

“Ah Gil,” he growled, deep in his throat, “My woman. My beautiful, fiery, fearless, wanton woman.”

Slowly they climbed that mountain of heat, step by step to the very pinnacle, to stand for just a single long moment, eyes upon each other, sharing everything, before leaping off it together, to soar briefly upwards then float gently down.  

 

 

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