My King

She would never forget last night. Thorin had seized her body and soul. After, she had even allowed him to sate his Dwarven desire for possession and mark her so the world would know she belonged to him. Ever so gently he carved his rune onto her neck with Orcrist. The blood and pain, his hands on her skin; the mutilation was orgasmic. She was his queen. In a secluded cave, she lay with her head against his chest. The sound of his breathing and heartbeat a lullaby that sang her to sleep.

Suddenly, the floor had given away beneath their bodies. A few seconds of free fall and a terrifying slide down a dark passage had landed them in the goblin city. The hands she felt on her now were not the strong and firm hands of her king but the clawing and clamoring paws of a dozen wretched goblins. They tore her away from her love. She was no longer awash in the gaze of her Thorin but now stood under the watch of a false king; a terrible mockery of Thorin's majesty, this goblin king under the mountain.

When they at last were returned to each other in the dungeons, she ran to Thorin's awaiting arms, buried her face in his hair and inhaled deeply to banish the scent of the filth around them. At the familiar aroma of the previous nights' fluid and sex, her folds began to throb. She needed to feel safe, needed him inside her, her hand instinctively reaching for his bulge. Startled, Thorin stayed her hand. "Not here, my love.", he whispered but his body betrayed his will. His eyes darted to her heaving breasts, rising and falling over her tunic with each heavy breath. His lips began to tremble and she said it again, "Take me, Thorin." His lust overwhelmed him.

His enormous hand encircled her neck and forced her to her knees. She knelt before her king and took his length into her mouth. She flooded herself with saliva, and fought back the gag as his member swelled. Tears streamed from her eyes but she would not stop pleasuring him. She wanted him to feel what she had felt. She wanted his body straining and aching for release. When he could take no more, his knees buckled and he collapsed onto the ground. Raivynn straddled him, and slipped his girth into her slick core. Thrusting her hips to the rhythm of his breathing, she guided his hand to her jewel. The pressure and movement of his calloused fingers brought her to the brink and she could feel the glorious heat of her impending peak. Thorin's icy eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth gaped open as he arched towards climax. In the end, they both fell into a heap of sweat and bliss and forgot, if only for a short while, the horrors that surrounded them.

She could never tell Thorin the terrible truth she had learned at the throne of the goblin king. They must escape this pit or die trying.