Fire in the Garden

http://banditvideo.com/bp/lh/long18.jpg --- link to photo of inspiration...snickers (warning FULL FRONTAL NUDITY of hot naked man)

Nerdanel bent to touch the petal of a flower, blossoming full and red in the sunlight of evening. Though she admired the blessings of the Valar, her mind drifted to other things closer to her heart. All the palace was a stir with the shock of her husband’s outburst and threat against his brother Fingolfin, the sword he had held against his brother’s chest.

She had gone to the garden shortly after he had returned to their chambers, throwing his sword against the wall with a sharp metallic sound, muttering about betraying brothers and a cool bath in the pool to douse the fire that overwhelmed his spirit. Her husband’s fiery spirit she knew well, remember well how it could not be easily quenched and had resulted in her seven sons, the last two being twins and result of his overly passionate state at the time.

Her lips parted in a reminiscent sigh as she recalled just how hot his fire was, his touch when he overwhelmed her, scorched her with his spirit, bringing her higher each time they joined. And it had been sometime since their last, his mind drifting away to other things that took his attentions from her, the forming of jewels in his deep forges, a result of her father’s own teachings.

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In frustration, Feanor slapped the cold water, the heat of his anger still coursing through his blood despite the soothing waters of the bath. He could feel the water warming from his body, and stood dripping out of the water, up to the stone patio surround the pool. At first he ponder angrily what could sooth him, till it dawned on him the only thing that ever had.

Not bothering with his robes, he stalked through the open walkways surrounding the gardens and yards of the palace, ignoring the gasps of shock from any elves he passed, unaware of their stares at his nude form as he searched for his wife.

Passing an arched trellis, he caught a glimpse of his wife’s hair, shining in the evening light, covering her face from his view as she held a blossom to her face. The red of the petals caught his eye, and he envisioned it gracing her dark tresses.

Stopping in the archway, he watched her, the water still dripping from his raven hair down his back and chest, over his abdomen and groin, to his legs. He outstretched his arms to hold on to the sides of the trellis, barely breathing, not wanting to alert his peaceful wife to his presence yet. He wanted to see her expression when she finally notice him watching her like a predator ready to devour his prey.

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It did not take long for her jerk her head up at the sense of his presence.

A rush of mixed emotions crossed her face, and he reveled in them all, from her surprise to anger, to the lust darkening her eyes, even as she stepped back from him, dropping her blossom. He loomed in the archway, every muscle tense as if he would pounce upon her in a second, and her skin tingled at the thought, at the thought of his touch after so long.

Her eyes flicked over his body, down the corded muscles of his arms, chest, and stomach, to the erect rod that stood proudly between his legs ready to take whatever it desired from her. When she finally met his eyes again, she swallowed at the glint in his inky depths. Suddenly she could not breathe, realizing that this time would be different from all the others.

He growled, his sudden movement catching her off guard as he captured her wrists in his hands and brought them over her head and held them with one. His other hand he drew along her flowing hair, fisting in it as he pressed himself into her, bringing her lips to his. Forcing her lips apart with his demanding tongue, he ignored her struggles to pull away, ravishing her completely with his mouth till she calmed and returned the kiss, her eyes glazing with pent up desire.

Pulling away from her lips and dropping her hands, he nuzzled his face into her hair, whispering into her ear all he wished to do to her. Her face flushed at his wicked thoughts. Through her gown, she felt his arousal hot and ready against her stomach, smashed between their bodies.

His hands roamed about her throat, exploring over the skin to the hem of dress where they lingered thoughtfully. She watched his eyes darken till no light could penetrate them.

In a swift movement that made her cry out, Feanor ripped through the layers of material, exposing her flesh to his lusting eyes. He pushed it back off her shoulders to pool behind her feet, and stepped back. The calm in his fiery storm, and she trembled at all she suspected he was capable of.

As the seconds ticked by, she forgot where they were, exposed to all eyes that wished to see, to watch Feanor and his wife attempt to douse his fire spirit

He turned his head, looking about the garden, searching, mumbling about the “lack of suitable places to make love here.” Then he spied the trellis, and it was built of thick wood, carved with vines that mingled with the real ones growing over it. Grabbing her wrist, he dragged her to the archway and pressed her back against the wood, his lips against hers in an instance, sucking her very soul from her body, breathing fire into her in return.

His dominance and control had complimented her very well, even now, and despite her occasional struggles against his iron grip, her core throbbed in anticipation, her nipples hard against his chest as he smooshed into the soft flesh of her breasts. He whispered as he kissed, “Take me, as you know I like it…as you have not in so long.” He groaned loudly, drawing the attention of several elves that had not already seen the naked elf stalking about the garden.

Sliding down his body, still between him and the trellis, she raked her teeth over his torso straight to the small patch of dark curls above his arousal. Her tongue snaked out and recoiled when it burned against his velvety flesh. His musky scent infiltrated her nostrils, and she attempted again to taste him, allowing him to singe her tongue, this time the burning pleasant.

She felt him tense above her as she slid her lips down his shaft, and looking up, she could see his head bowed, mouth wide as he gasped, eyes clenched shut. Her hands grabbed his hips, and she could feel the control he used to keep them from thrusting deep into her.

Lips wrapped around the head of his rod, teeth pulled about his foreskin, and tongue ran over the sensitive skin hidden beneath, as she applied more pressure with her mouth, suckling the clear drops that ran out the slit. His strained cry drew her attention upward again, and he stared down at her, tears of passion at the corners of his eyes.

He grabbed her upper arm and dragged her back up in front of him, lifting her legs about his waist, and entering her in one thrust that slammed her hips against the archway and his arousal to the hilt, knocking at the entrance of her womb, muffling his cry of lust in her shoulder, causing her own cry as he bit into her shoulder with enough ferocity to draw her blood to his tongue. Pulling back out all the way, he slammed again, biting his own tongue this time.

Nerdanel’s nails dug into the muscles of his back and shoulders, as she desperately tried to hold on during his rage. Soon he shortened his thrusts, bringing his coarse curls in longer and closer contact with her hidden nub, so desperately erect and desiring his touch. With each contact, she tensed, bringing herself closer to that release she knew would soon explode within her.

With each pound of his hips, a hoarse yelp or shout escaped her lips, and her head was dizzy with the rough rocking motion and the tension in her belly.

Then it all erupted within her, red hot flames exploding in her belly, licking their way up through every vein and vessel of her body.

Feeling her tense and then relax in his arms, Feanor groaned, as the muscled walls around him spasmed tightly drawing out his own powerful release of creamy seed, shooting in a hot stream that burned the inside of her core more than the heat of her own release.

Lolling his head against the base of her throat, running his hand over the slick sweat of their bodies, he pulled out his still half hard rod, watching as the white drops of his seed ran out between her thighs. Massaging her breasts, pinching the nipples and twisting them slightly, he slid down her limp body, lapping at their mingled flavors, capturing the drops of their desire on the tip of his tongue before they hit the ground.

She shivered as his tongue entered her abused opening, sore from his battering, attempting to soothe any damage he may have caused. His hands roamed down her body, and she replace his hands with hers at her breasts.

Opening her eyes slightly, she caught the shocked expressions of two ellith and two ellyn walking by and catching the Noldorin high prince and his wife, his face buried between her thighs, as she clutched her own breasts, rolling her head against the trellis as she moaned.

Licking a path back up her body, he shoved her hands out of the way so he could resume fondling her globes. Looking at her face, he followed her line of vision to the small, one glaring, one blushing, and two with mouths parted in lust at the sight, group of elves watching them. Catching each set of eyes, he drew gasps from them as he inserted two fingers deep within his wife, collecting their essences and bringing his fingers to his lips, licking it off one finger before offering them to his wife, her mind clouded with the dull throb of her lingering passion. From the corner of his eye, he saw one elf lick his lips as her mouth closed around his fingers.

Smirking he withdrew his fingers, pushing her back, so that she leaned limply against the trellis, and he left her standing there as he gathered her torn clothing. Wrapping her back into the soft material, he lifted her into his arms and walked past the stunned elves that had watched them, carrying her to their chambers far above.