Sing Me Good-bye

“Are we having a fire tonight, Gandalf?” Pippin asks.

Aragorn for the umpteenth time tries to light the fire using wet sticks. Once again, the sticks refuse to light, causing his frustration.

The wind howls and shrieks against the opening of the cave. It invades the cave and seems to pierce through your clothing.

You pull Boromir’s cloak tightly around you, but the action doesn’t seem to help in the slightest. You’re still cold.

“I’m afraid not,” Gandalf says. He seems amused with Aragorn’s futile attempts to light the damn sticks. “To not worry about it, Aragorn, we will use body heat tonight.” He gaze flickers to you, causing you to blush.

Yeah, you have a pretty good idea what that look means.

“No one will take watch tonight,” Gandalf continues. “Anyone trying to walk through this storm will freeze to death. Good-night everyone.”

The fellowship calls out their ‘good-nights’ as they try to find comfortable spots on the cave floor. Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, and Gandalf position themselves closer to the front of the cave.

The hobbits are dog piled in the middle, where the fire was going to be.

And of course, you and Boromir are closer to the back of the cave.

Boromir unpacks the bedroll. “Are you sure you are comfortable sharing the bedroll with me? I could sleep with Aragorn and the others and you can sleep with the hobbits if you prefer.”

Instead of dignifying the statement with a response, you lay down and pat the spot beside you. He swallows hard before sitting down. Even then he is tense.

“I just don’t want you to feel as though you have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says.

You are half-annoyed and half-appreciative. Boromir, the ever valiant man who is only concerned about your wants and needs. You’ve been secretly fantasizing him taking what he wants from you. . . while making you feels pleasures you’ve never even dreamed of.

You shudder when you remember a particular fantasy that involved him licking chocolate off your spine as he pounded into you.

“Are you cold?” he asks. He immediately grabs his blanket and wraps it around you.

“What about you?” you ask, seeing he plans to sleep without anything covering him but his clothes.

“I will be fine,” he answers. “Do not concern yourself with me.”

“I will concern myself with you,” you state. “There’s no reason for you to be cold. Besides, body heat is far warmer than blankets.” You untie the cloak and hold it and the blanket up as an invitation.

Boromir hesitates. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says.

You know well enough if you don’t convince him to get in the bedroll with you then the ring will have a better chance getting to him.

‘Any means possible.’

Sucking in your pride, you pout. “But Boromir, I’m cold.”

He sighs, but you swear you see a hint of that masculine pride, telling you he likes you needing him. He slips under the cloak and blanket, wrapping in tightly around him to keep any cold air from seeping in.

Sadly, his arms are crossed so you can’t get closer to him. You tug at his arms, but they won’t budge. “Boromir, stop being so difficult,” you say.

His eyebrows shoot up as he tries not to smile. “What do you mean?” he asks.

Oh, you get it now. He’s going to milk it for all it’s worth. Fine, you’ll give him what he wants. . . and then some.

You lean up and glace past him to see everyone is sleeping. The snores sound through the cave, telling you even if one happens to be awake, they won’t be able to hear anything.

When you look back at Boromir, he looks worried. It’s almost as if he regrets teasing you. That’s when you hear it.

‘Slip me on your finger and she’d never even think about straying from your arms,’ a cold voice hisses. ‘You will be her everything. Her sun, her moon, her king.’

He thought you were looking to the others because you were going to leave him! ‘Moron,’ you think. ‘He should know well enough by now I love touching him.’

Still, the voice makes you feel tainted. You can’t see how he stands hearing it.

“Open your arms,” you say as you lightly tug on his arms. “Or I will make you. And no one will save you since they’re all asleep.”

They remain against him. A grin tugs at his lips. “Just try to make me,” he challenges. The worry is still there, and so are the tainted whispers.

Your hands slowly trail up his arms as you admire the muscles under his clothes. You try to move the hands again, but he won’t release them.

Fine, you’ll play this game. When your hands reach his chest, you quickly make work of undoing his shirt.

“What are you-“ he begins.

You silence him with a passionate kiss. His mouth drops. You take advantage of his shock by invading his mouth with your tongue. You don’t want words or questions or doubt. You want that evil voice gone from his, and your, mind.

You take off his shirt, letting your hands caress his strong chest. Your fingers run through his chest hair, causing him to purr.

He grabs your ass and pulls you against him. You moan in his mouth as his erection rubs against you. He takes control of the kiss, having his tongue invade your mouth. His large hands make work of removing your shirt and bra. They rub your breasts. You eagerly thrust yourself into his hands. He pinches your nipples. You gasp and moan into his kiss.

He breaks the kiss and stares into your eyes. His pupils are dilated and he’s panting as hard as you are. He looks to your breasts. He licks his lips.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning. When his eyes meet yours, you know once you cross this line there will be no turning back. You will be his and only his. “Do it,” you purr. “Please.”

He kisses his way down your neck. You hiss when he bites your shoulder. His head disappears underneath the blanket. You shudder when his hot breath dances across your breasts.

He suckles one breast while his hand concentrates on the other. You can’t seem to catch your breath as he teases you with his talented tongue and eager hand. His beard scratches your breast as his mouth kisses its way to the other breast.

When you think it can’t get any better, he surprises you by open kissing his way down your stomach. You are nearly humming by the time he strips you of your pants and underwear.

He buries his face in your crotch. As soon as his wicked tongue touches you, you nearly lose it. Your hands imbed themselves in his hair as he guides your leg over his shoulder to give him better access.

You squeeze your eyes shut and swallow a moan as his tongue twirls around your clit. When he adds his fingers, you can’t hold it back any longer. You bite your tongue as you come, he continues his ministrations, only adding to your pleasure.

You come down from your orgasm to find you’ve been reduced to a puddle. What’s worse is his tongue’s slow strokes are getting you going again.

You gently tug on his hair. “Get back up here,” you whisper.

He gives you one final lick before open kissing his way back up. As soon as he reaches your lips, you pull him against you.

You moan when you taste yourself in his mouth. His tongue curls around yours as he crushes his body against yours. His erection rubs against your hip.

Your hands run down his body. You admire his chiseled stomach before dipping under his pants.

“By Valor,” he whispers as you grab his erection. Very slowly, you stroke him. He buries his face in your hair. His hips twist to have more control of thrusting in your hand.

When your other hand grabs his balls, he moans. You kiss along his neck. You find a spot that makes him gasp. You suck hard on the spot, leaving a nice purple mark.

Boromir, not liking how slow you’re moving, wraps his hand around yours as he kisses you with so much passion that you’re drowning in it. He speeds up your tempo and moans in the kiss as he orgasms.

As he comes down, you find a cloth to clean up the mess.

Feeling clean, pleased, and dressed, you happily melt in his strong arms. They possessively curl around you, making you feel warm and safe. “See,” you say. “I told you body heat is warmer than blankets.”

He chuckles, his chest vibrates against your face. “So it is, so it is.”