Pen-Estel

ElenadiVita: *laughs* But Glorfindel is only playing at being mean... because he knows that Legolas can't resist him when he is like that. ;)

micmar: Wow, that is quite some praise! Thank you so much for leaving us such an encouraging comment! It's wonderful to know that people understand and enjoy the threesome aspect of the story! :)


Chapter Thirty-Four

Legolas blushed when he looked into the mirror, and his cheeks reddened even more when he could see that Glorfindel was grinning at his expression.

"Lovely, roch neth," Glorfindel said appreciatively, eyeing Legolas with the languid contentment of a cat which had just caught itself a mouse to play with.

Legolas swallowed, feeling weak at what he saw on his Lord's face - the desire, the intention to play with him as if he truly were but a mouse, and of course the amusement.

Legolas' eyes returned to the mirror, and he sighed softly, half with dismay and half with lust. That his Lord liked to embarrass him was nothing new, and Legolas knew that they only teased him so much because they liked the way he reacted to it - but he just couldn’t help it.

The truth was that he liked it, that he loved it when they made him feel so vulnerable and helpless.

"Oh yes… very pretty," Glorfindel breathed into his ear, having stepped closer to now watch Legolas' mirror image over his shoulder.

"Thank you, my Lord," Legolas said helplessly, wanting to close his eyes but unable to do anything but watch and sigh when Glorfindel's fingers slipped beneath the hem of the robe he was wearing to slowly drag the garment up his thighs.

"Elrond will love it," Glorfindel whispered intimately, his breath moving against Legolas' ear so that the youth trembled and leaned against him submissively. "And you will be perfect tonight... you will please us, because you already know that serving us is what you were made for."

"Yes, my Lord," Legolas breathed, wanting to moan when he thought about what Elrond would think when he saw him like this - what he would do to teach him that, despite what had happened in Elrond's study this afternoon, he was truly but their pet.

He sighed in regret when Glorfindel took a step back, the robe falling into place once more. It was made of the thinnest white silk and reached only to his knees, revealing more than it hid of his body. His hair was open and unadorned save for a wreath of small, blue flowers - Gloriel had made it for him, and when they had brought her to bed a few moments ago, Glorfindel had smugly, gleefully ordered him to keep it in his hair.

Legolas now knew why - it fit perfectly with the garment Glorfindel had laid out for him, making him the very picture of innocence. All the better for them to despoil... a beautiful plaything for them to tease, and just the thought of being forced to serve them looking like this made him tremble with desire, because he had never known anything more rewarding than his submission to them.

There was a light knock on the door before Elrond entered, and Legolas immediately turned away to get their drinks so that he would be spared seeing the Lord’s reaction to his revealing clothing and the flowers in his hair.

As he poured the miruvor, his hands shook. It would seem that just the expectation and the imagining of Elrond’s reaction had been enough to unnerve him. Why? Was it because, like him, Elrond too found it easy to interchange their roles? When Elrond came here, the times when he submitted to Legolas might not even be real, so masterful and dominant he seemed. Yet it was true…

Legolas closed his eyes for a brief moment, remembering how it felt to be the one who took, how he could make Elrond moan and beg for him, and how much it pleasured him – not to take control, but to be the one Elrond trusted, and to be the one who allowed Elrond freedom by practising restraint. It was all so contradictory, that was true, yet it had given him so much self-knowledge. It was a truth he had long suspected but that had never been sufficiently proved to him before – that there was no malice in the kinds of games they played. He knew Glorfindel loved him, because he knew that love was the basis for everything – even those things that hurt.

Startled, he opened his eyes quickly when he felt wetness on his fingers. He had overfilled the goblet in his daydream, and he absently lifted his fingers to his mouth to lick the sweet, sticky miruvor from them.

“Roch neth,” Glorfindel said disapprovingly from behind him, and accordingly as if he had been commanded, Legolas jumped guiltily, turning slowly to face his Lord. He looked at Glorfindel from under lowered lashes, finally remembering – much too late – to take his hand away from his mouth.

“I am s-sorry, my Lord,” he stammered, not certain what to say to excuse himself. His eyes flickered momentarily to Elrond as if to beseech him for aid, and he sighed when he saw that Elrond was still dressed in his formal robes. There would be no help from that direction, then. Looking back at Glorfindel, the Lord simply raised an eyebrow, and Legolas nodded quickly in understanding – he was taking much too long.

He turned back to the small table, and in his haste, he almost dropped the miruvor, but soon enough it was done, and as was proper, he served their guest first, not daring to look up and see the lust in Elrond’s eyes. He knew how he looked, and he knew that his actions were not helping him at all. He must seem shy and apprehensive, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

He held out the goblet for Elrond to take, but the Lord didn’t reach for it, and so Legolas at last looked up. He almost moaned when he recognised the stern Lord of Imladris in Elrond’s eyes. No longer was Elrond the willing lover he knew from the daytime, now he was playing his part, and Legolas felt his body answering that steely grey gaze.

When Elrond did reach out, it wasn’t to take the goblet from him, and Legolas’ hands were shaking so badly he could do nothing but clutch it helplessly as Elrond dragged the back of one fingernail over the suggestive bump in the white silk.

Legolas gasped loudly, and to his dismay, his body only became hungrier for Elrond’s touch, until he was rock hard, the white silk no longer looking so innocent when it was tented out in front of him, just the touch of Elrond’s finger enough to show the shape of what lie beneath.

“Please,” he begged softly, his entire body trembling now although Elrond had given him no more than that teasing touch. His flesh felt red hot beneath the silk, and all he could think about was how far those warm hands were from his skin… from sliding up underneath the thin material and touching him in truth.

“Please, what? Legolas…” Legolas gulped, holding out the goblet again as if it was a talisman that could save him.

“Please! I am going to spill it,” he said, wincing at his own choice of words as Elrond laughed at him, his voice deep and melodic.

“No. Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Legolas shook his head in misery as Elrond toyed with him. “At least, not yet.” With a slow smile Elrond took the goblet from Legolas at last, pausing to squeeze his hand once in a gesture of reassurance. Legolas smiled then.

“Thank you, my Lord.” They looked at each other for a moment before the sound of Glorfindel clearing his throat made Legolas hurry back to the table to pour his Lord’s wine too.

Glorfindel smiled slowly when Legolas finally brought him the goblet, clearly enjoying how instead of hiding, the short, thin robe only served to accentuate the youth's arousal, the outline of his erection almost obscene against the innocent white.

"Your miruvor, my Lord," Legolas whispered, his fingers still trembling. His pale skin was flushed with arousal and his eyes dark and soft - begging to be taken advantage of, and that already from what little had transpired so far.

Glorfindel smirked and took the goblet, the fingers of his other hand slowly stroking up Legolas' thigh. He sighed appreciatively at how soft and warm Legolas' skin was, inviting more of the touches - but then he heard Elrond swallow audibly, and he quickly dropped his hand again when he realised that he was only teasing him by dragging the garment up Legolas’ thigh. That would not do - Legolas was the one he wanted to tease today, until the youth was incoherent with arousal.

"One could almost think that you want to be deliberately displeasing today," he said slowly, his eyes narrowing as he frowned. "On your knees, pet... And you had better make certain to give us adequate service from now on."

"You have spoiled him, Glorfindel," Elrond said huskily, looking at Legolas as if he were unable to tear his eyes away from the vision of the youth kneeling before them with the flowers still in his hair. "This one, he was born to serve such as you - there is no use in letting him become wilful when you can clearly see how he is begging for the guidance of a strict hand with his entire being."

Legolas gasped as if outraged, and Glorfindel smiled maliciously. "Is there something you want to say, roch neth?" he purred, and Legolas swallowed, quickly shaking his head and lowering his eyes.

"I am sorry, my Lords... I did not intend to displease you. Please, forgive me," he whispered, bowing low and pressing his lips to Glorfindel's feet in remorse.

"Yes... this is exactly how you look best." Glorfindel laughed softly, and instead of feeling humiliation, Legolas felt only more aroused until even the brush of the thin, cool silk against his hardness was agony.

"Lord Elrond... I am so sorry, please forgive me," Legolas whispered, pleading for more than just the Lord's forgiveness, but Elrond's eyes were stern and he did not answer. Legolas bent over his feet, pressing a kiss to the velvet of his shoes, and only raised his head again when he felt Elrond's hand in his hair, pulling his head up.

“A lesson in how to serve is long overdue,” Elrond mused as Legolas looked at him helplessly. He frowned. “You do need some training, don’t you, Legolas?” Legolas almost moaned at the way Elrond talked to him, and wanted to be let go only so that he could continue to worship at Elrond’s feet. Elrond nodded, although Legolas hadn’t answered, and then let him go at last, rising to his feet in one graceful easy motion.

“Undress me,” Elrond commanded quietly. “You may start by removing my shoes.”

What was this new game? Legolas yearned for Elrond’s touch and caress. He burned for it, and yet he found himself crawling forward on his knees to remove the velvet slippers from Elrond’s feet. He sighed at the beauty of the Lord’s feet when he uncovered them, leaning down still further to show his appreciation for the perfectly curved instep. Elrond even had elegant toes – something that was not lost on Legolas. Oh, he could feel Elrond’s body heat above him as he expressed his desire, and he couldn’t help imagining how it would be to slowly work his way up the long legs to kiss Elrond there, and make him moan.

“That’s enough!” Elrond’s voice rapped out as Legolas took one of Elrond’s toes into his mouth to suckle on it. Mortified to be doing something wrong, Legolas drew back immediately, his needy shaft sliding against the silk of the garment he wore so that he sighed in lust.

When he looked up, Elrond was not looking at him, but he held his arms out as if he expected Legolas to begin removing his robes. Shakily, Legolas rose to his feet and stood before the Lord of Imladris uncertainly.

He looked up into Elrond’s endless grey eyes, wishing that the Lord would look at him just once. It came as a surprise to him that he wanted acknowledgement so much, even if it would mean torment for him. He wanted Elrond to look, and to like what he saw. He needed Elrond to touch him and to tease his body until he no longer knew his own name. One of Legolas’ hands played along the edge of the short robe restlessly. He longed to touch himself, and yet he knew that such a thing would earn him a severe punishment at Glorfindel’s hands.

“Are you going to stand there staring, or are you going to do as I requested?” Startled, Legolas jumped where he stood, unable to avoid hearing Glorfindel’s warm laugh at his reaction, and it made him blush in shame even as his body responded to its Master.

“I… no! I mean, yes…” Legolas swallowed, and paused to gather himself a little. “I mean,” he began more calmly, “I am sorry, my Lord.”

Elrond said nothing more, and only sighed impatiently, so that Legolas reached out to begin following his orders, removing the heavy robes that denoted Elrond’s rank as Lord of the Valley. It seemed to take forever, and as he undressed Elrond, Legolas became even more aware of the robe he himself wore. The silk seemed to cling to him, moulding itself to his body as he moved around Elrond to divest him of the heavy material. The silk wasn’t heavy enough to be the lover’s touch he craved, though, and he listened to his own breathing as he worked, the slight moans he couldn’t help when the silk brushed against and clung to his hardness. No. It wasn’t quite enough.

Eventually, it was almost done, and Legolas stood behind Elrond, admiring his body shamelessly. All that remained were the thin black breeches Elrond wore beneath his robes. The colour matched his hair, and accentuated the broad, muscled back. Without thinking too much, Legolas swept his palms over Elrond’s shoulder blades, leaning in to kiss his back.

“What do you think you are doing?” Elrond demanded imperiously, and Legolas froze. “Did I tell you to touch me?”

“No, my Lord,” Legolas said miserably, not understanding this game, but coming to stand before Elrond again to undo the ties that held the breeches up. He stared down at his fingers unseeingly through sudden hot tears, wondering why the knots were being so difficult with him now. A single finger lifted his chin, and Legolas looked into Elrond’s eyes at last, feeling the gaze returned to him.

It should feel different to this, he thought dazedly. Here he was, with Elrond almost naked before him, and he thought it should feel as though he had the upper hand – but it didn’t. He truly felt like a servant for the first time, and that lasted for as long as it took for Elrond to move closer and kiss him.

“Don’t cry, Legolas,” Elrond whispered when he finally moved back, kissing the tears from Legolas’ eyes. Then he straightened again, giving the youth another stern look – but this time Legolas was certain that he could see a smile in his eyes.

“You have no need to cry,” Elrond then continued, once more the stern Lord, “you did not do too badly so far – only I do not like to be kept waiting.”

He nodded towards where Legolas’ fingers still clutched the knot that held his breeches closed, and the youth blushed and immediately began to work on it once more, finally sighing in relief when he got it open. He fell to his knees once again to help Elrond step out of them, and then he looked up, all of his earlier insecurities forgotten when he found the Lord hard for him, his length swollen and dark with blood so that Legolas sighed at the thought of what he would feel like in his mouth. He licked over his lips, then flushed in embarrassment when Glorfindel chuckled.

Oh, very pretty, roch neth… But Elrond is right and a lesson in how to serve was indeed long overdue. I do not believe that you truly intend to make me wait… do you?” Glorfindel smirked when the youth guiltily bit his lip and immediately came towards him.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” Legolas whispered, his eyes lowered as if he were truly but their servant – yet now once again he knew this to be only a game, and there was no coldness in Glorfindel to make him feel insecure. Instead, Glorfindel’s natural arrogance was welcome, and Legolas found himself enjoying the slow reveal of his Lord’s powerful body – even the mortifying experience of having his fingers slapped away whenever they lingered too long only aroused him more.

The silk clinging to his body was damp where his erection had rubbed against it, and pure torment now – he wished he could finally rip the garment from his body, just so it would not keep teasing him at every move he made, but he did not dare, even though by now Glorfindel’s punishment would be more welcome to him than the robe.

He almost moaned when he finally found himself once again on his knees, his Lord completely naked now, and just as aroused as Elrond had been. Again Legolas moistened his lips with his tongue, wanting nothing more than an end to this torture, to finally taste them, and he looked pleadingly up at Glorfindel.

“What do you say, Elrond?” Glorfindel asked, and Legolas wanted to moan at the cruelty of being denied yet again. “If he can but learn to focus on his task more and not let himself be distracted…”

“It’s in his blood… You can see that he was made for this, made to serve. See how good he looks on his knees,” Elrond said and swallowed, staring at Legolas’ glistening lips. “You will just have to make certain that he does not forget his lessons again – he will need continual training.”

As Elrond spoke, his voice moved away, and Legolas realised he was taking his seat again. Glorfindel too, turned away from him and moved towards the opposite chair, and Legolas followed on his knees, crawling as if he had been commanded to do it.

In the end, he found himself sitting back on his heels between Glorfindel’s legs, watching in helpless lust as Glorfindel stroked himself slowly. His eyes narrowed, and he appeared to be deliberating.

“Do you want this, pet?” Legolas moaned in answer, feeling the silk tight against his aching member, truly wanting more than anything to give Glorfindel pleasure.

“Do you think you can please me with your sweet mouth?” Glorfindel asked with another slow movement of his hand over his impressive length.

“Yes, my Lord!” Legolas replied fervently, unable to tear his eyes away from what Glorfindel was doing now.

“Then ask me for permission,” Glorfindel suggested in an offhand way, and Legolas didn’t hesitate.

“Please, my Lord,” he begged. “Please let me use my mouth to give you pleasure!”

There was a warm chuckle, and Legolas shifted uncomfortably, feeling his own arousal as an itch he couldn’t scratch. No, he couldn’t touch. All he could do was attempt to take his attention from it by pleasing Glorfindel. He leaned forward slightly, already opening his mouth, but then his Master’s voice stopped him.

“I do not know if I should,” he said intimately. “You look so innocent I cannot tell for certain if you are really capable.” Legolas looked up in confusion, and then realised it was a new game. His confidence grew, and he smiled at Glorfindel seductively from under his lashes.

“But I can, my Lord! I promise!”

Glorfindel sighed, and pursed his lips slightly, while Legolas’ entire body buzzed with excitement. “Hmm… why don’t you tell me what I can expect from you?”

Swallowing, Legolas let his gaze slide down from Glorfindel’s laughing eyes, over his golden body, to his hardened member that his hand was still slowly caressing. Did Glorfindel expect him to describe it? Helplessly, he looked up again, and all he saw was expectation. Legolas moved up a little to make himself comfortable, catching his breath when the sheer silk rubbed against the head of his own erection again.

“My Lord,” he breathed reverentially. “I would please you so much, and you would not regret it.” He stopped, but Glorfindel said nothing – gave him nothing – and Legolas licked his lips before continuing.

“I would like to kiss and lick you first, so that you are all slippery and wet with my saliva, and I could taste you on my tongue…” He closed his eyes as he imagined just how it would be, Glorfindel’s hot flesh against his lips and face as he worshipped. “Then,” he continued, a little more breathlessly, “I would take you into my mouth, using my lips and tongue to draw you deeper inside. I would love to feel you filling my mouth with your hardness, and I would probably moan…” Legolas moaned as if to demonstrate, swallowing again because he really was salivating at the way Glorfindel made him describe what would happen.

“And then?” Glorfindel demanded quietly, his voice no longer as arrogant now, but soft with desire – desire for what Legolas described to him.

Feeling ever more confident, Legolas smiled slowly with his eyes closed as he imagined what came next. “Then, when you filled my mouth and all I was aware of was you, I would seal my lips around your shaft, and start to suck –”

A low moan came from somewhere behind him. Elrond, Legolas realised cloudily, shaking his head slightly to remember where he had got to. But then it seemed it didn’t matter, because Glorfindel spoke again.

“That does sound so very tempting, roch neth,” Glorfindel purred, and Legolas flushed with pride, daring to move closer and press his lips against his Lord’s knee.

“Thank you, my Lord,” he said dreamily, still lost in the imagining, his lips parting slightly as if in expectation.

“I want you to do all that,” Glorfindel confided, and the desire in his tone made Legolas open his eyes again and look up. As he turned his gaze on Glorfindel, the Lord moaned lazily, and Legolas realised that Glorfindel had been touching himself all the time. The thought of it made him feel weak and fluttery somehow – even after all the time they had been together. Nothing seemed to dull the perfection of serving Glorfindel.

“Yes…” he answered softly, daringly, almost smiling as he leaned further forward. Glorfindel’s hand moved, and caught Legolas before his lips would have touched his hardness, and turned his head slightly so that he looked straight at Elrond.

“But I want you to do it to him first. If he agrees that you are pleasing, then you will come back here and give the same to me. Do you understand?”

Legolas looked helplessly across at Elrond, seeing the little smile as he dragged his fingers lazily up his member, and Legolas gasped. They were conspiring in this! Perhaps they had made it up beforehand, but they were definitely working as a team. Legolas felt quite overcome with lust, and he moved his head as if begging Glorfindel’s hand to caress him.

“Of course, my Lord,” he agreed, and then crawled forward the few steps to kneel between Elrond’s feet, ready and willing to bestow the attention upon him too.

It was like following instructions – but they were his own instructions – and Legolas groaned as he leaned in close and began to lick and kiss at Elrond’s length, just as he had described it to Glorfindel. Elrond was moaning as well, but Legolas was far more carried away, and eventually he got to the point where his words had stopped, Elrond’s hard flesh filling his mouth while he sucked lightly, his cheeks hollowing out, and he knew he was going to go further.

Actually, there was no choice, because Elrond took hold of his head to keep him still as he pushed deeper inside, until Legolas relaxed his throat to allow himself to be taken like this. He had been with the two of them for years, and he had long ago learned to please like this. Still, when Elrond thrust in and out of his mouth a few times, invading his throat, Legolas almost choked in shock. Elrond was gentle, not rough, but still the Lord was fucking his mouth – and he loved it! He felt his own arousal again as Elrond drew back from him completely, holding his head so that he couldn’t follow.

It had to be hard to stop! It simply had to be! Legolas looked up accusingly, and he caught his breath at how utterly undone Elrond looked. His face was stern again, but it was no act this time, it was evidence of the enormous effort it took to hold back. Elrond hadn’t come, and his member twitched just a short space away from Legolas’ mouth. If he put out his tongue he would be able to lick…

About to do just that, Legolas stopped when he heard Elrond swear and looked up again. The Lord of Imladris ran his tongue over the edge of his teeth, and almost appeared to be glaring as he looked down. After a moment or two, Elrond cleared his throat.

“That was very good, pet,” he said throatily, his voice so deep and rough that Legolas might not have recognised it in other circumstances. “He is very pleasing, Glorfindel. Not inexperienced at all. I can definitely recommend him to you.”

Legolas moaned in dismay, remembering Glorfindel’s words, and realising what this meant for him. And just like he had thought, Glorfindel now motioned for him to return. Trembling with lust and desire, Legolas crawled towards his Lord’s feet, the silk sticking to his sweaty skin. The robe no longer felt smooth and cool, but instead it made him itch now, made him want to rip it off so that someone would finally touch him – but he knew they would never allow that.

He whimpered when he sat up on his knees and the robe stretched tautly over his erection, so that Glorfindel chuckled while Legolas’ fingers twitched miserably, needing to press against his aching flesh. But obedience was ingrained too deeply in him, and so he only bit his lip to keep from begging, although he still gave his Lord a pleading look.

“It looks good on you – I might have to make you wear that robe more often. So don’t ruin that lovely silk, Legolas, or I’ll be forced to find a way to make you pay for it,” Glorfindel purred, taking Legolas’ chin in a firm grip to underline his threat.

“Yes, my Lord,” Legolas said breathlessly, then moaned when Glorfindel’s thumb brushed over his moist and swollen lower lip, flushing in humiliation when Glorfindel chuckled and gave him a knowing look.

“You wanted it really badly, didn’t you? Feel him coming in your mouth; swallow all he had to give you… Oh, it was so very obvious, roch neth. I will believe Elrond then that you are quite experienced in those things.”

“I am, my Lord! I swear I will please you!” Legolas promised desperately, helpless against the desire that became stronger with every moment he spent so close to his Lord, completely in his thrall.

“Will you? I don’t know… It is quite an honour to serve me. Do you think you are deserving?” Glorfindel asked and laughed softly at Legolas’ frustration. “I do not let just anyone touch me. Are you certain that you can please me?”

“Oh yes, my Lord, I swear it!” Legolas promised again, tears welling up in his eyes at the cruel teasing. His Lord was so very hard, the tip of his shaft wet with the droplets that had already escaped, and Legolas ached with the need to lap them up, to taste the musk of his Lord’s desire. How the Lord could deny himself Legolas would never know – he would have thought it impossible, for he ached so terribly with desire himself already, but it seemed that as in all things, Glorfindel was stronger in this regard as well.

“I know I am not deserving,” Legolas continued helplessly, “but please, let me show you how pleasing I am! Lord Elrond was satisfied with me, and I promise I will serve you well! I want you to find your pleasure in my mouth, my Lord… There is nothing I want more than that, truly! There’s nothing I wouldn’t do if you but asked it of me!”

Faintly, Legolas wondered if he should feel ashamed for all the things he was saying, but it all paled before the desire he felt, the frustrated longing for what he had been teased with for what seemed like an eternity… He would truly do anything they asked of him now, say anything they wanted, no matter how humiliating their games, as long as they would allow him to touch, to taste, to please.

Glorfindel said nothing more, but placed a heavy hand on the back of his neck to pull him closer. It wasn’t as if Legolas needed encouragement though, and he dedicated himself to pleasing Glorfindel in the same way as he had pleased Elrond. There was a kind of freedom and ecstasy involved in acting like this, in playing their games. He was acting like a whore, but he no longer cared. All of this was between them and no one else, and even that thought excited him.

Rubbing his face against the heat of Glorfindel’s shaft, tasting all he could, Legolas moaned. He wanted to make it messy and noisy – and it was. He took Glorfindel into his mouth, and while he suckled he bobbed his head up and down, moaning around the Lord’s length when the movement made his own arousal rub against the front of the settee… and Legolas thought he might be in heaven.

“That’s enough, roch neth,” Glorfindel repeated sternly. Legolas wanted to shake his head, and he absolutely refused to follow the order, already given more than once. Glorfindel was close, he knew, and it would only take another minute or two…

“Enough!” A hand used his hair to pull him away, and Legolas cried out.

“No! No, please! Please, let me!” How many times had he felt like this? Where Glorfindel’s release was as important as his own? He knew that if the Lord came, he would feel satisfied and fulfilled, as if he had served some kind of purpose, and he hungered after that the way he hungered after Glorfindel’s touch and his lips.

He actually sobbed as Glorfindel stood and pulled him to his feet, leaning against the Lord in silent surrender as he raised a hand to his lips to wipe away the moisture.

“Please,” he begged in a forlorn whisper, hardly aware of anything now but that Glorfindel hadn’t found pleasure in his mouth. He dimly realised that someone had come to stand on the other side of him. Elrond. But for all that he didn’t know what was afoot until his senses settled somewhat and he regained a sense of time and place.

“I think he might be overdressed, Glorfindel,” breathed Elrond into his ear, his voice silky smooth now instead of strained. Legolas gasped when he felt fingers in his hair, but he looked down only to see the blue flowers tumbling to the floor one by one as Elrond freed them from their place.

The floor was quickly becoming littered by them, as if they were little parts of his resistance – if he had any. He shivered when he saw Glorfindel step closer to him, his foot crushing one of the delicate blooms, and he looked up into his Lord’s amused eyes.

“I think you are right,” he replied, but he looked at Legolas as his hand dragged the silk up over his thighs again.

“Please,” Legolas whispered with no idea what he was begging for. All he knew was that the two of them felt menacing now, and wasn’t there a good reason for wearing the robe? For the moment it escaped him, and he raised his arms obediently so that Glorfindel could free him of the constrictive silk.

Immediately Elrond’s warm hands were on his waist, Elrond’s lips against his shoulder so that he sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back. He felt the heat of Glorfindel’s body in front of him, and their skin touched –

“Ai!” Legolas cried out as his member was pressed against Glorfindel’s hardness. He could feel Elrond still hard behind him too, and he began to tremble, certain he couldn’t take anymore of their teasing.

“Shh, pet,” Glorfindel said, as if distracted, raising his hands to touch Legolas’ chest, his thumbs rubbing small circles over the sensitive nipples. He still gave a small amount of milk. It was something neither of them had allowed to stop, even though Gîlríon and Gloriel were much too old for it now.

“T-touch me, my Lord. I need you,” Legolas pleaded desperately, his entire body shaking in their combined grip at the pleasure that made him disorientated and dizzy.

“But I am touching you,” Glorfindel purred, chuckling when Legolas begged again. “Or do you mean like this?” So saying he dropped one hand down to grip Legolas’ hardness and stroked him up and down.

“Oh, Master!” Legolas climaxed almost immediately, feeling as though his body and mind had shattered until he came to a moment or so later to find Glorfindel staring at him speculatively.

“I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?” he asked wickedly as Elrond laughed behind him. Legolas only moaned, realising that he was pressed so tightly between them he hadn’t been in any danger of falling. They had held him up.

“I do hope you are not tired, Legolas,” Elrond warned him suggestively as they steered him towards the bed. “After all, being in service to a Lord, or even two, entails extremely long hours…”