Unforgotten

I silently follow him through the corridas was we take the shortest route to Éomer’s chambers. On the one hand, I am grateful for this relocation of our meeting. This interruption gives me time to regain control over my brewing hormones and sort my thought. But on the other hand I almost wish that I hadn’t listened to him but had stayed in that mapping room with him... I doubt that he would have resisted me other than with half-hearted words. He was and is like hot wax in my hands – soft and bendable – and if I had not let go of him a little while ago, we surely would be engaged in different activities right now than rushing through these corridors. Though... A sudden thought slips to my mind as my gaze lowers on Éomer’s backside for about the twentieth time this evening. Maybe this short interruption isn’t that useless after all… At a junction of two corridors I grab his arm and force him to come to a halt. A little confused, he turns around to me, and I have to muster quite some self-discipline to not press him against the wall and just kiss him right here and right now.

“Go ahead, I’ll follow in a minute,” I say with a hushed tone.

“What are you up to?” he asks with an even lower voice than mine. Apparently he’s very uncomfortable with the idea that someone could overhear our dialogue or see us together.

“I want to get... something that should be of some use for us”, I imply, and he raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“Of some use?” he repeats a little slow-wittedly, but when a meaningful smile tugs at the corners of my mouth I can see the sudden realization on his face.

“Oh”, he says and returns my smile somewhat nervously. “That... won’t be necessary.”

Now it’s my turn to look at him questioningly, and for a short moment I fear that he doesn’t want to take the last step tonight. But then his cheeks blush in a charming shade of red and he whispers, “I got hold of a few massage oils and smuggled them into my chambers, just before we met in the mapping room. Those will be sufficient, I guess?”

My grin broadens. “*Before* we met?” I broach the subject again and can hardly suppress a tiny burst of laughter as his blush turns darker. The little bastard has been hoping for a more intimate get-together from the very beginning, just like me, and he even has made arrangements for this. Who would have thought? Oh Éomer, pray to the Valar that you really grabbed essential oils when you hastily slipped the bottles into your clothes, and not, say, sharp tinctures that burn on sensitive skin... For when we finally will be in your room and I will have you under myself on your bed, nothing will get me to let go of you again...

~ ~ ~

We are hardly in the safe room that protects us from curious gazes when I already feel his hands on my hips from behind. I turn around towards him, and even before he can start anything, I grab him by his shoulders and push him backwards with determination until he bangs into the closed door with his back. His puzzled face speaks volumes... This is not what you had expected, Boromir, is it? You believe that I am still the way I used to be, fainthearted and hesitating and submissive. But I changed. I guess I will have to demonstrate this to you...

I press myself against him heavily and smother his slight gasp with a greedy kiss. He doesn’t fight me but willingly allows me to claim his mouth. It feels good, oh so good to have his strong body trapped between the door and myself, and to have the control over the kiss. Somehow this all arouses me even more than our little interlude on top of the mapping table, and I feel that I get hard again. He notices this, too, and suddenly his hand is there, again on my crotch, and this time I don’t flinch.

While we are kissing so turbulently, he swiftly opens my trousers and frees me from this almost painful prison of my laced clothes, but only in order to capture me in the even more torturing lock of his hand instead. I involuntarily moan into his mouth as he touches me so intimately, and I feel my power and my control wane. And before I even know it, it’s suddenly me who gets pressed against the door with his back, crushed between cold wood and the warm body of another man.

He puts his arm around me firmly while his other hand continues to create intoxicating feelings in my nether regions; feelings that slowly but surely undulate through my whole body. No, in fact it doesn’t happen that slowly... The truth is that the lust within me increases as quick as a flash, and I have to break from his lips to gasp for breath. This is so fast, it is all too fast... I want to wind out of his embrace, but my body doesn’t obey me any longer.

“Don’t, please”, I pant, and at the same time I paradoxically move against him with more eagerness. He doesn’t listen to my words but to the signals of my body and intensifies his divine caresses.

“Don’t”, I grind out with lots of effort, and I am ashamed how weak and dishonest I sound. With a tiny, almost malicious grin Boromir bows his head a little downwards and kisses my neck with unexpected tenderness. Simultaneously, he leans his left forearm against the door, right next to my head, his fingers splayed on the cool surface to grant him maximum support. And while one of his hands shores him up, the other one does unbelievable things to my body.

Just before I come he raises his head from my neck and straightens himself, and the realisation that he looks directly into my all-revealing face causes me to reach my climax even faster than I would have anyway. While the immediate harbingers of salvation – ever growing waves of sensual, overwhelming pleasure – surge through my body, I double over against him, groaning heavily. I lose contact to the wooden door and with it a lot of footing, but his left arm closes around me instantly, and this is a more than comfortable alternative. Somewhat desperately I cling both my hands to the fabrf hif his shirt and press my face into his shoulder which, much to my relief, muffles my pants a little. And while I quake in his embrace, soil his hand with the proof of my infinite pleasure, he holds me tight and secure, like a salvaging rock in the wild surge of my lust. And it makes me furious.

I don’t need to tell him. He can read it in my eyes – or probably rather in my whole face – as I slowly loosen myself from him. He lets me out of his arm without any resistance and while I sink back against the door, my gaze travels over him. A little embarrassed, I have to find out that he made a good job of it. His hand glistens with the milky fluid, and even on his shirt I discover sticky and not really discreet traces of my release.

“Believe me, you will be grateful for this soon”, he distracts me from my thoughts and I raise my head to glare at him with hostility. Much to my surprise, he laughs gently, grasps my shoulders and manoeuvres me towards my bed.

“You will surely manage another rounhe she says teasingly when we finally stand directly in front of the large bed and he begins to open my shirt quickly. Without really noticing, I lift my arms a little in order to make it as easy as possible for him to strip the piece of clothing, that by now is drenched with sweat, from my body. I sigh inwardly and simmer with excitement as he at last puts his hands on my heated, naked skin, at my sides, just above the ribs where I am so sensitive.

“You are still young, after all”, he adds, and before I have the chance to get angry again, he turns me around and pushes me onto the bed, headfirst. Abandoned to a strong impulse, I want to roll around or prop myself up, but he followed onto the bed and now kneels over myself, one leg to my hips’ left and one leg to my hips’ right, and places a hand between my shoulder blades to imply that I should simply remain outstretched on the bed. A little reluctant and still exhausted I do what he wants from me and wait. I feel that he stretches over me, and out of the corner of my eye I can see that he reaches for one of the oil bottles that are lined up on the little table next to my bed. I sense slight panic rising inside of me, and my current position under him doesn’t really set this uncomfortable feeling at rest. Well, at least I am still wearing my trousers, a thought shoots through my head, but I still don’t manage to relax myself, with the sound of him uncorking the bottle less than ever.

“Easy now”, he suddenly says, and again I execrate myself for obviously not being able to conceal my inner feelings and thoughts.