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His lips ran over her jaw, ever so gentle, ever so careful. She could have been of glass, of finest porcelain, with his fingers just barely touching her upper arms, his mouth laying butterfly kisses to her skin. His anxiety, the nagging insecurity that he felt prior to every time they did this, was radiating from him like waves on a pond. He had not yet shut his thoughts off, and she had not yet quitted his mind, and she had to admit that his anxiety was infectious, making her breath go slightly rugged, her palms slightly damp.
“I love you…” he whispered against her neck and kissed it again, just below her ear. “I love you so much, Alatariel…”
She smiled against his cheek and nuzzled his silver hair. He hadn’t used this name in public for the last few centuries, not since the sounds of her father’s tongue had been banned from the halls of Menegroth, but that just made the name sound so much sweeter when he whispered it when they were alone in the seclusion and darkness of their chambers. Gently she pushed his chin up with two of her fingers and kissed his lips, sweet and slightly tart, like the rhubarb cake they had been served for supper.
“I know…” she whispered against his lips. No ‘I love you too’ – that was not what he needed to hear. He knew that she loved him, but he needed to know that she was sure about his feelings as well. He needed to know that she trusted him with all her heart.
She felt how his body tensed, and how he gently pushed her out of his thoughts. She broke their mind contact, and suddenly the room around her seemed to vibrate with nothing but the sound of their mingling breathes, the rustling of their clothes, the sound Celeborn’s lips made when he pressed them together for a second. She could smell his body so close to her own, could feel the warmth of his body on her skin, could see how his dark eyes slowly grew hard and cold. At that she shivered, and for a second she bit her lower lip, before she nodded slightly, signaling him that she was ready.
A low ‘thud’ sounded through the chamber when he pushed her against the wall, and pain ran from her shoulder down to her tailbone. She winced when Celeborn’s mouth found hers in a forceful kiss, his teeth scraping against her lower lip before he forced her jaw open with one hand, the other pushing her shoulder back against the wall. She could feel the tips of his fingers pushing into her flesh, bruising her skin, as his tongue forced its way into her mouth, thick and suffocating. Her jaw burned from his relentless grip, and she shivered as his heavy body pushed against hers, trapping her between him and the wall. She started to struggle, tried to push him off, but even though she was strong, he was stronger – he pulled her shoulder forward and pushed it hard against the wall again, grunting into her mouth as their teeth clicked against each other, swallowing her pained cry.
He pulled away from her mouth, and the hand that had been on her jaw grabbed her hair and pulled her head back as he started to push his lips and teeth against her throat. She felt his lips pushing against her larynx, and she hissed at the burning pain when he pulled her hair harder. He sucked the skin right over her pulse into his mouth and worried on it with his teeth for half a minute, while his body rocked against hers, outright humping her from time to time. She felt how her body was again and again pushed against the wall harder, the grip of his hand still viselike and painful against her shoulder.
When his mouth let go off her throat, he looked her in the eye for a second. She nodded again, just in case that he needed it, and winced again when he yanked her away from the wall by her hair and pushed her in the direction of the bed. He let her go and pushed again, making her stumble forward. She lost her footing and braced herself with her hands as she fell onto the mattress, though they had laid out the blankets in such a way that she would not hit her shins.
Her knees had hardly touched the bed before Celeborn was behind her, grabbing her shoulder again – the other one this time – and pulling her around to push her down onto the bed, with her feet still on the floor. He pushed her knees apart and leaned forward to take her lips in another kiss, again with a hand on her chin to keep her from turning away. She felt his other hand between her legs, rubbing her roughly through the thin fabric of her dress. She had known those fingers for such a long time, but it was still incredibly exciting to feel them touch her in such a way – wild and raw and rough, so close to actually hurting her.
He let go of her jaw once again, and then his hand was on the neck of her dress, and a ripping noise filled the chamber. He tore her dress open and wrenched it from her body, throwing it to the side, onto the floor, careless as one might dispose of the core of an apple. Naked she lay before him now, with her legs held open by his knees and her sex dreadfully exposed to his eyes and his fingers.
A slapping noise filled the room when Celeborn’s flat hand landed between her legs, and again a whimper wrenched itself from her lips, though she did her best to keep her noises in. The slap left a sharp tingle, and when she felt two of his fingers push into her she tried to get away from him, to get farther on the bed; but instead of just holding her in place, he pushed his fingers farther into her, driving her farther onto the bed with the pressure of the long digits impaling her. Only when she was lying in the middle of the bed did he pull his fingers out, wiping them dry on the silky hair between her thighs.
He moved his body, heavy and hot, farther up to her, and then laid down atop of her, nearly suffocating her with his weight. His lips found her jawline and he peppered hot kisses onto her skin, moaning against her as he rubbed his still clothed erection against her soft center, wetting his own robe with her juices. The fabric was slightly coarse, and she writhed under him, trying to get rid of the unpleasant feeling – but he just put more weight onto her body, forcing her to stay and take whatever he would give her.
He soon sat up, straddling her hips, and rubbed his hard sex over her soft belly in slow strokes, before he stood up, on the bed, towering over her lying form, and took off his own robe and then his trousers, exposing his hard, proud erection to her. When he knelt down again, he caught her wrists in both hands and held them down over her head, then he shifted until he knelt over her chest, with his cock in proximity of her mouth.
He let go of her wrists again, though she didn’t even try to move her arms. Instead she lifted her head off the bed and tried to lick the head of his cock, to get at the silvery drops that clung so invitingly to his tip. But he grabbed her hair again and pressed her down, just to rub his cock over her cheek in the next second. She felt the drops of liquid smear on her face, and again she whimpered lowly, closing her eye when his glans came a little too close for comfort. He pulled away again, just to rub himself over her other cheek as well, before he smeared just a droplet of cum over her lips.
“Don’t lick…” he growled lowly when she opened her mouth, and she immediately closed it again. She could still taste a little of the salty bitterness, though the feeling of it drying on her lips and cheeks was irritating, uncomfortable…
She could hardly keep herself from holding Celeborn’s hip in place when he shuffled back between her legs again, opening them wide once more and rubbing his now bare, dripping erection through her folds. He groaned, and so did she as she pushed back a little, into the rubbing. It felt incredibly good, incredibly promising… That hardness of his shaft, the pulsation of his blood against her sensitive clitoris…
“Hungry, aren’t you?” he whispered, darkly and with this low growl in his voice that made Galadriel’s thighs shiver. He pushed two fingers into her, thrusting them quickly and making her moan. “Your cunt is sucking on my fingers already…” He leaned forward again and kissed her seed-smeared lips once more, biting her lower lip and pulling at it until the stinging pain made her whine and close her eyes as a sign of submission.
When he whispered again, his breath met her lips, hot and sultry. “I’m going to pound into you until you’ll forget every part of your body but the clenching walls of your cunt… Until you’ll feel nothing but the thrusts of my cock inside of you… I’m going to feed you until you’ll burst with pleasure, wife…”
He hissed the last word against her mouth, and she couldn’t help but pushing herself harder onto his fingers. Her whole body was tingling, and her breath was fast and shallow with anticipation.
When he pulled his fingers out of her this time, he didn’t wipe them on her body, but pushed them into her mouth, and she eagerly licked him clean, even though she’d rather tasted the salt of his cock than the tartness of her own sex.
And then his fingers were on her throat. She swallowed hard and laid her head back, her whole body shivering as she tried to relax. For a second she opened her eyes when she felt Celeborn’s thumb caress her larynx, and caught his eyes with her own. She smiled slightly, a trembling, tiny smile, but enough to set him at ease. She felt pressure, gentle still, just below her jaw, and she closed her eyes again, forcing her breath to go slow and steady as the big, strong hands of her husband ran over her throat. For a second she wondered how he would start this time – then she felt stronger pressure between her jaw and her larynx, and she knew.
She tried to stay calm. The pressure of Celeborn’s thumbs increased very slowly, not closing her windpipe right away, just slowly, steadily constricting it. Breathing became harder with every second, and soon every breath was accompanied by low wheezing. He pushed harder, harder, until the air that still found its way into her lungs didn’t suffice anymore, and her body started to struggle despite her volition. But his hands now encompassed her neck and held her in place, and he sat down on her chest, restricting the flow of air even more. She tried to keep her hands away from his and clutched the blanket violently, until her fingers cramped, but when he finally steadied his pressure, which was now completely blocking her windpipe, she just couldn’t hold herself anymore – her fingers found his hands, and she tried desperately to pull them away from her neck, while her head was slowly starting to feel light, and darkness crept into the corners of her eyes. She felt pressure just under her eyes; her mouth was hanging open, gasping desperately for breath which would not come. Her finger grasped, clawed on Celeborn’s hands, but his grip remained like that of a vise, and no motion was to be brought to them.
She opened her eyes again, staring up to him while she felt as if the pressure under, and now behind, her eyes would push them out of her head any moment. She choked audibly, gagged, whined, but nothing made him let go of her. Her body was seized by vertigo, and suddenly she couldn’t tell up from down anymore, then everything started to blur, and the dizziness made her roll her eyes back into her head –
And suddenly the hands were gone, and Celeborn’s weight on her chest likewise, and she gasped for breath, wheezing and panting and coughing as long-needed gushes of air filled her empty lungs. She grabbed her neck, running her fingers over the skin by instinct, though she knew that Celeborn would never damage her. Her throat felt sore, and she could feel bruises blooming on the skin above her larynx, but her windpipe was completely sound.
Celeborn was still looming over her, kneeling and waiting for her to calm down again. When she did, he gently pulled her hands away from her throat and sat down between her legs again. He lifted her hips onto his lap and then leaned forward to kiss he lips once more, though gentle this time. She sighed and closed her eyes as she kissed him back. When he pulled away, she closed her eyes again, and again started to breathe slowly and steadily.
This time his hands found the sides of her neck. This way of doing it was easier in one way, and more dangerous in another. She could feel her breathing stutter slightly when he started to slowly apply pressure to the thick blood vessels that ran up her neck. It didn’t hurt as much as it had hurt when he had cut off her trachea, but she knew that damage could be caused even easier in this way, by any carelessness, by a few seconds of too much pressure, or by keeping the pressure for a few moments too long.
But those hands on her neck belonged to Celeborn. The strands of hair that tickled her face belonged to Celeborn. The hard cock that pushed against her folds belonged to Celeborn. To her husband, who knew her better than anybody, and who would give his life for her. He knew what he was doing. And there was nobody in this world she trusted more.
She could still breathe, despite the pressure on her neck. He was not blocking the way the air took to her lungs, and it made everything easier. It made everything less forceful. And when the dizziness came, the slight faintness, it was a lot less violent than before. Her head started to swim, and her breath grew faster, heavier, as her body demanded more air, even though it would not do her any good; but at least she could breathe.
The dizziness grew stronger, and suddenly her head was jerking to the side, as if her body had finally understood what was causing the strange feeling in her head. She felt the skin of her face and scalp prickle, felt the pressure below and behind her eyes again, though building less forcefully while the darkness at the corners of her eyes grew faster than before, and soon everything she saw was a mess of blurry colors and spots of light, and she gasped again and started to fight against Celeborn’s grasp.
But once again he didn’t let go of her; he just readjusted his grip a little as he shifted slightly between her legs, and the vertigo grew stronger, confusing her senses, confusing her feeling for space, for time – until she felt Celeborn push into her, with one hard, long thrust, before he started to fuck her right on the spot, no preamble, no care, just pounding, hard and merciless and with all the pent-up force he could muster. Had Galadriel been able to think, to comprehend, she would have known that this was a race for Celeborn – to get both of them to climax before he had to let go of her. But as Galadriel was not able to think or to comprehend anything, the only thing she felt was how incredibly good those thrusts were, how they split her body, how they made her insides twitch. Her eyes were closed and rolled back into her head again, her mouth open and gasping, her whole body shivering – she was weightless, floating, vibrating, pulsating, dying –
Until she felt the strong convulsions of her orgasm deep inside of her body, slow at first, but then stronger, stronger, while Celeborn’s thrusts grew harder and she opened her eyes wide to blurred shadows, gasping and whining breathlessly throughout the torrent of her climax –
And then Celeborn let go of her neck and came inside of her with a low groan, spilling his seed deep inside of her and lingering afterwards, while Galadriel’s head started to spin from the suddenly continued rush of blood to it. She had to close her eyes for a moment to regain her composure, and any semblance of grounding.
Before she could even open them again, Celeborn pulled out of her and kissed her lips gently; then she felt his lips against her neck, and then his ear against her chest, and she smiled as she felt how he listened to her ragged breathing. She wasn’t yet able to talk – she didn’t think she would be able to talk at all tonight, not without croaking – but she could move again, and one of her hands found the silky silver of Celeborn’s tresses and started to caress them.
Celeborn seemed to take this as a sign that she was fine, and he sighed with relief. Gently she felt her way back into his mind, and let her own thoughts, calm and satisfied, mingle with his, satisfied as well, yet worried still. He smiled at that; she could feel the way his mouth stretched at the skin of her chest, and his thoughts eased.
He lay down next to her and pulled her into his arms. She felt his precum drying on her cheeks and both her and his juices cooling between her thighs, felt the bruises blooming on her shoulder and throat, prickling as they filled with blood, reveled in the burning in her throat, the satisfaction that filled her body with every fresh breath of air. Her flesh was still tingling from the intensity of her orgasm, still sensitive to his touches, but still she curled into his embrace, closing her eyes as she laid her head against his chest. He kissed her head, her brow, her temple.
“I love you so much, Alatariel…” he whispered as his hand came to rest on her back.
She smiled against the slope of his shoulder. “I love you too.”