Éowyn is not a woman much accustomed to being overpowered, and if she was ever asked, would have said it was the last thing she would ever want. But the boldness and surety with which he pushes her down, the strength with which he grips her hand, sets her heart racing even more, until she could swear it will burst out of her chest. It is more than she could have hoped, to have him hold her so, to feel his mouth trace the trembling skin of her belly, his hand drawing lines of fire on her pale chest.
And then it is his mouth that covers her breast, and, oh!, she had wondered how it might feel but never grasped until now just how different it would be to her own hand, to have his lips close on her nipple and his tongue trace that delicate skin. She stifles a cry, and fumbles a hand up to cup the back of his head, bites her lip at the exquisite intensity of sensation.
The hair between her legs is damp to the touch, and his little tug sends a delicious shiver through her; she delights in the anticipation, and needs little encouragement to spread her legs for him. Cool air brushes the sensitive skin inside her thighs, shivers over the mounting heat inside her.
"I would have thee never spent, Faramir," she tells him truthfully, and laughs - but the laugh seems to catch in her throat, turns husky and raw. "I would have us never leave this bed, even if it keep thee from all other duties. I would have thee linger and love and show me all thy husband's ways." She strokes her fingers through his hair, and when she meets his eyes, her own are heavy with lust, bright as burnished iron. "And at the same time, I would have thee delay no more, and fuck me here and now, for this is some sweet torture."
She blushes a little as she says it, unused to such coarse language, but if ever there was a time for it, that time is now - what else could express that raging desire in her to rut like a bitch in heat, make up for all this waiting by furious action, as if this were the last night as well as the first?
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sforzinda
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Date: 2018-07-23 10:57 pm (UTC)And then it is his mouth that covers her breast, and, oh!, she had wondered how it might feel but never grasped until now just how different it would be to her own hand, to have his lips close on her nipple and his tongue trace that delicate skin. She stifles a cry, and fumbles a hand up to cup the back of his head, bites her lip at the exquisite intensity of sensation.
The hair between her legs is damp to the touch, and his little tug sends a delicious shiver through her; she delights in the anticipation, and needs little encouragement to spread her legs for him. Cool air brushes the sensitive skin inside her thighs, shivers over the mounting heat inside her.
"I would have thee never spent, Faramir," she tells him truthfully, and laughs - but the laugh seems to catch in her throat, turns husky and raw. "I would have us never leave this bed, even if it keep thee from all other duties. I would have thee linger and love and show me all thy husband's ways." She strokes her fingers through his hair, and when she meets his eyes, her own are heavy with lust, bright as burnished iron. "And at the same time, I would have thee delay no more, and fuck me here and now, for this is some sweet torture."
She blushes a little as she says it, unused to such coarse language, but if ever there was a time for it, that time is now - what else could express that raging desire in her to rut like a bitch in heat, make up for all this waiting by furious action, as if this were the last night as well as the first?