Inner Glow
"You exhausted our young Steward last night, my love," Elessar teased his wife.
"I? You helped, if I remember, it was you who were driving him into me," Arwen answered his baiting with a wicked chuckle of her own.
Elessar wondered occasionally if his council and the other nobles had any idea how much time the Steward of Gondor spent in the royal marriage bed. Faramir and Éowyn had a good idea, he was sure, but only because Faramir saw things so clearly, especially when they concerned his beloved brother.
The King turned in his chair, watching the slanted sunlight gilding the golden hair on Boromir's back. The Steward looked easy and carefree in sleep and somehow vulnerable.
"He looks so young," he said to Arwen.
She laughed, a warm, throaty sound that sent heat to Elessar's groin. "All men look young to me, dear heart."
He grinned and pulled his willowy wife into his lap. "And do I look young, as well?" he growled playfully, nuzzling her neck.
"You will always be evergreen to me," she giggled as his beard rasped the delicate skin of her nape.
"Do you ever regret binding ourselves to him?" Elessar asked seriously.
"No, of course not! He is Gondor and we belong to him as surely as we belong to this kingdom. And he is ours."
Elessar reached up and gently tweaked her nipple through her gown. "Why don't we go back to bed," he murmured.
"Sadly, I am to go to the orphanage in the First Circle this morning, with some other noble ladies." Arwen removed herself from her husband's lap with regret. "However, as I recall, you have no appointments until noon, when you meet with the delegation from Lamedon. Why don't you spend the morning with our faithful Steward." She trailed her fingers through Elessar's hair, before stooping to kiss him thoroughly.
Elessar sat for a long time after she left, gazing at the man in his bed, before deciding that his wife was the wisest being he knew. Boromir lay on his stomach on the tangled linens which he had kicked off as the morning sun heated the bedchamber. The snowy white sheets set off Boromir's golden beauty to perfection and he glowed in the sunlight. The light turned his hair into a halo of pale fire surrounding his head and left subtle shadows along the contours of his muscles. The Tree on his back seemed to be carven from a precious metal.
The King dropped his robe to the floor as he stalked to the bed. The sun caught his own hair, bringing fiery highlights to the dark strands. His blue eyes narrowed as he contemplated his prey, helpless and trustingly asleep. He reached out and encircled a slender ankle with a calloused hand. He leaned forward, his mouth not quite touching Boromir's sturdy calf and let his lips trail up the muscle, disturbing only the tawny hairs as he went.
Boromir shifted slightly as the tickling sensation started to penetrate his sleep-fogged mind. Elessar moved his tongue to the other man's back and began tracing the design tattooed there. The Steward was warm, the sleepy kind of warmth that had nothing to do with the sunlight or fire, but was unique to humans in slumber. Elessar carefully fitted his chest to Boromir's back, absorbing that heat. Below him, muscular hips started a slow undulation into the mattress as Boromir's body registered the sensual assault.
Elessar felt himself grow hard at the blond man's unconscious seduction, and he moaned into the other man's tangled hair. He knew the instant Boromir came fully awake, for the man tensed for a moment before he registered whose weight and erection were pushing him into the bed.
"My King, I live to serve you. Tell me your will," Boromir whispered.
Elessar groaned. Such submissiveness from his usually fiery and demanding lover drove him nearly insane from want and Boromir knew it.
"Spread your legs. I mean to take you so brace yourself, for I cannot be gentle." He grew impossibly harder as Boromir complied instantly, opening his legs and thrusting up slightly with his rounded arse.
"Then do it, I have not yet tightened from last night's exertions."
Elessar pulled Boromir's arms up over his head and laced their fingers together. He rose up slightly on his knees, pushing Boromir's legs farther apart, and aimed the head of his cock at the rosy pucker of muscle in Boromir's cleft. He found his target quickly and pushed himself in, slowly breaching the ring of muscles. Despite the Steward's assurances, Boromir was very tight and Elessar groaned as he sank into the hot, clenching channel.
The King paused for a moment as his lover adjusted to the erotic invasion of his body, and then growled, "Do not come until I allow it."
Boromir shakily nodded his assent and then Elessar withdrew almost all the way, before returning for another long, slow slide. He angled his cock to brush Boromir's pleasure bud, knowing the torment he was inflicting on the man. Elessar kept up the slow pace for many minutes and he delighted to feel Boromir trying to push back against him. But he kept Boromir's hips still and grinned wickedly at the whimpering and pleading coming from below him.
Elessar finally sped up and as he ground himself into his willing Steward, chanted, "Not yet, not yet."
The King came with a howl as he emptied himself into Boromir's heat. He withdrew his softening member and turned his lover over.
Boromir's eyes were dazed and unfocused. Beads of sweat had broken out on his body and caught the sunlight, giving him an iridescent shimmer. His hair was matted and his hands were trembling, but his glorious cock was distended and fully at attention, with drops of pearly liquor oozing freely from the tip. Elessar gazed for a moment at the breathtaking picture of sensual abandon.
The King lowered his head and gently grazed his lips across Boromir's. The other man responded after a moment and allowed Elessar access to his mouth. Elessar deepened the kiss until their lips were mashed between their teeth. He drew back and stared. Boromir's lips were red and swollen, and they completed the vision of debauchery that Elessar had been composing with the Steward's body.
Boromir tried to raise his hands, but Elessar stopped him. "Lie still, let me tend you."
The Steward groaned, a tearing, needy sound. Elessar smiled and applied himself to the task of tasting his lover's body. Boromir tasted of salt and sleep and male musk. The King marveled at the bouquet of different flavors as he worked his way to a tiny, hard nipple. He worried at the bud with his teeth, before sucking it in and flicking it with his tongue.
Boromir arched nearly off the bed. "Mercy," he pleaded. "Please, Aragorn, I cannot bear this!"
Elessar smiled, "You plead so beautifully, that I will heed you."
He resumed his journey down Boromir's torso. He placed a gentle kiss on the tip of Boromir's weeping erection, before swiping the organ with broad strokes of his tongue. The blond man was practically sobbing, twisting around, trying to get what he desired. Elessar slowly sucked a lightly furred sac into his mouth, and Boromir wailed.
"I have not given you permission yet, understand?" Elessar asked and waited for Boromir's nod. He then proceeded to give the same treatment to the other bollock.
Elessar then rose up on his knees, hovering his mouth over the head of Boromir's cock. Boromir's eyes were tightly shut.
"Look at me," Elessar whispered. When Boromir opened his eyes, Elessar said, "Now you may."
And he relaxed his throat and swallowed Boromir's length, stroking frantically with his tongue. Boromir could wait no longer and his orgasm ripped through him, bringing him up to a sitting position as his hips thrust his cock into the King's mouth. Elessar held on, riding out the spasms until they quieted and Boromir softened in his mouth. Elessar swallowed the sweet essence, licking his lips to get every drop. He pulled Boromir into his arms, soothing the trembling man.
When Boromir finally regained control over his body and speech, he said, "I am not complaining, but you are unusually ardent this morning, especially in light of our activities last night." His tone was questioning.
"I watched you sleeping and light seemed to be coming from within you. I could not resist. And Arwen reminded me that I have the morning free."
"Hmm, remind me to thank her," Boromir said as he snuggled deeper into Elessar's embrace.
by Raederle
I'm on your side... If you fail, at least you tried.
To keep your aching, celebrating,
wonder making heart alive.
And your pride... Don't keep it all inside.
Don't keep your aching, celebrating,
wonder making heart alone...
Write your own song.
—from "Inner Glow" by Blue October
The sultry, summer days had come to Minas Tirith, and the day promised to be another scorcher, but the breeze off the river during the night had cooled the air and the morning was pleasant. Elessar and his Queen sat on their balcony, eating breakfast and talking quietly, trying not to waken the man who was still sleeping soundly in their bed.
