Chapter Text
Galadriel stands naked in front of the full-length mirror in Halbrand’s master bathroom. It’s early, not even six yet; Halbrand is still in bed sleeping and Galadriel is tired and wants to go back to join him, but all she can do at the moment is stare slack-jawed at herself in the mirror—more specifically, at her backside. Her entire ass is bruised, swathes of reddish-purple daubed across her normally pale skin and extending even onto the sides of her thighs. She’d felt a little tender sliding out of bed a few minutes ago to come pee, but she hadn’t given it much thought otherwise.
She recalls yesterday afternoon when she was six floors up in the back of Angband Financial Services, bent over a ridiculously expensive ebony desk, and enduring her punishment for lying. While it eventually led to rather revelational sex, Galadriel isn’t so sure she wants to do it again—rather, she doesn’t want to misbehave again. Not necessarily because Halbrand will edge her to the point of madness and put her away wet, but because she’ll disappoint him again, and she knows now that’s the last thing she wants.
“Everything okay?”
Galadriel practically jumps out of her skin, turning to see Halbrand standing naked in the doorway, arms folded over his chest and a mischievous smirk on his lips. She hadn’t even heard him open the door all the way.
“Don’t mind me,” Galadriel dismisses airily, speculating if her getting out of bed or the light from the bathroom through the crack in the door woke him. “Just admiring your handiwork.”
Halbrand drops his arms and comes toward her. She goes willingly when he draws her into an embrace, tilting her head back so he can press a soft kiss against her lips. His body is hard against hers, arms a cage around her, but his closeness brings her comfort—despite the fact he’s the reason her ass is so bruised and tingly.
“You’ll think of me every time you sit down for the next three days,” he smirks.
“Will I?”
“Yes, but don’t worry. Maybe I’ll try to be a little more gentle next time.”
“Next time?” Galadriel squeaks, and she stifles a gasp as Halbrand’s hands descend to cup around the backs of her thighs. He effortlessly lifts her up and turns a step to perch her on the edge of the nearby sink. The cold stone is almost painfully startling against Galadriel’s skin, but Halbrand doesn’t even wait; he slips his arms under her knees to open her up, bracing his hands on either side of her hips. He leans in close, parted lips grazing against hers.
“Yes, next time,” he assures. Galadriel tenses, feeling his cock hardening between her legs.
“What—what makes you so sure it’s going to happen again?” she inquires breathlessly, reaching up to drape one arm around his neck. Halbrand reaches down to rub the tip of his dick up and down her pussy, coating it in the wetness that’s already started to accumulate.
“Because you liked it entirely too much to not misbehave again,” he retorts with a hint of snark, and Galadriel exhales sharply when he pushes inside her. He wastes no time, beginning a short, curt rhythm, that sends pleasure lancing through her body.
“How do you—” Galadriel’s voice wavers with each thrust, though she manages to keep her tone impish. “How do you even know that I—that I liked it?”
Halbrand pauses momentarily, withdrawing until only the head of his cock remains sheathed inside her. He raises his brows, like she just asked the stupidest question imaginable.
“I think the way you begged me to fuck you afterwards answers that question, don’t you?”
“Is that bad?” Galadriel wonders, knowing the heat that blooms in her cheeks isn’t necessarily due to their current exertions.
“It’s called punishment for a reason, doll,” he breathes, sliding back into her until the front of his hips are flush with her inner thighs. “You know what that tells me?”
“What?”
“That you like it rough. Just imagine the next time I punish you…”
Halbrand punctuates his statement with a firm thrust, which wrenches a harsh moan from Galadriel. Her eyes flutter closed and she begins to pant weakly as Halbrand eases into a more sluggish rhythm. The point isn’t to reach the end as quickly as possible—he simply wants to feel her wrapped around his cock, wants to watch her face contort in soundless pleasure. Still keeping his arm hooked under her leg, he reaches up behind her and grabs a fistful of her hair, angling her head even more so he can lavish wet, open-mouthed kisses to the front of her throat.
Right before Galadriel comes a few minutes later—and to her shock—Halbrand replaces his cock with his two middle fingers. He curls them rhythmically inside and Galadriel nearly immediately comes undone. She throws her head back with a strangled cry, only narrowly avoiding cracking it against the mirror, and instinctively twists her body like she’s trying to get away from him, but Halbrand holds her down as he coaxes her through her orgasm. Before Galadriel has managed to drift down, Halbrand removes his fingers and sinks back inside her, thrusts a few times, and comes moments later with a heated groan. He tugs her close, notching himself even deeper, and holds himself there for a long, breathless moment, the gentle pulses of Galadriel’s remnant orgasm easing him to softness. Finally he pulls out. He kisses her nose, then her forehead, then her nose again; sweeps his thumb over her temple, which is slightly damp with sweat.
Halbrand helps Galadriel slide off the sink, who grimaces as her bottom scrapes over the edge of the stone. He draws her into an embrace and kisses her again.
“I have some fresh clothes for you here,” he says. “I’ll drive you to work, too.”
“Just drop me off at my car and I can drive from there, it’s okay,” she murmurs, somewhat dreamily. “I don’t want you to be late.”
“I’m a partner, I come and go as I please.”
Galadriel laughs. “Okay, Mr. High and Mighty. I need to shower first, anyway.”
“You’re not going to take a shower.”
“I’m not?”
“No,” he answers luridly. “You’re going to walk around all day with my cum between your legs.”
Galadriel gawks at him, astonished at the little flare of heat in her belly. “I am?”
His voice is lower now, sultry. “Yes, and when you come back tonight I’m going to check to see if it’s still there.”
Galadriel doesn’t consider the fact that he just told her he expected her to leave his cum dried between her legs all day, nor the fact he assumed she was returning tonight—all she can concentrate on in that moment is him dribbling out of her, a drop slowly rolling down the inside of her thigh. She squeezes her legs together.
“I’ll have a reward for you,” Halbrand assures her, stroking her bottom lip with his fingertip.
“A reward?” she echoes faintly, unable to tear her eyes away from him.
“Yes. Would you like that, baby?”
None of it even seems absurd. Galadriel nods.
__
An hour and a half later finds Galadriel standing behind the counter at work giving a woman information about the next few upcoming authors’ events. The entire time, as she’s reciting dates and times, watching the woman scribble them down in a little notebook, in the back of her mind all she can contemplate is Halbrand’s cum pooled and dried in her panties and between her legs.
Halbrand was telling the truth when he told her she’d think of him all day. She’s acutely aware of the ache of his handprint on her ass when she’s standing, especially when she’s walking, and more painfully so when she has to sit. At first it’s uncomfortable, but in time with each twinge she’s taken back to the moment he stuck his hand between her legs to feel how wet she was—to feel if she was ready to take him—and the way he so callously fucked her afterwards. She stops wondering why she’s getting wetter as the day goes on, adding to the mess already there, and the shame at her obvious pleasure gradually melts away. Galadriel never thought she’d be into sex like that. Into shit like this. She wonders what kind of person she is to want more; wonders if Halbrand will go further—if she’ll be into whatever comes after.
Galadriel is consumed with thoughts of sex the rest of the day. At one point she’s so horny she even debates disappearing into the employee bathroom to touch herself, but quickly decides against it. Despite the fact she’s walking around marinating in jizz and her own arousal, that still feels a bit too far. So when her shift ends at last, she’s practically vibrating with excitement. She grabs her things from the break room and heads out to her car in the parking lot, which she drove over this morning after Halbrand dropped her off at his own work where her car had sat overnight.
Galadriel drives to Halbrand’s house and enters with the code he entrusted to her this morning. She was giddy when he told her, though tried not to be so obvious about it. She felt like it made their situation a little more real, the fact that he now trusted her enough to be there on her own, for however brief a time. She knows he’ll be here soon, so sits on the edge of the couch in the living room to wait. She’s curious as to her reward, because she knows she’ll get one. She did just as he said.
When Halbrand eventually comes through the front door maybe half an hour later, Galadriel rises to her feet.
“No issues getting in?” he asks when he glimpses her in the living room, setting his bag by the door and tossing his keys into a ceramic dish on the foyer table.
“No.”
“Good.”
Galadriel’s eyes follow him as he heads into the kitchen and pours himself a small decanter of whiskey. He silently regards her as she approaches.
“I did it,” she announces unabashedly.
“Did what?”
Galadriel’s lips part in surprise, her stomach abruptly tightening in what feels like equal amounts of dread and hot embarrassment.
“I—you—you said—”
He laughs and her tension instantly dissipates. “Turn around.”
Galadriel instantly obeys. Her heart speeds up when he presses against her and reaches around to slide his hand under the waistband of her skirt and down between her legs, balancing his glass in the other hand. Galadriel lets out a tiny breath as he touches her—first to discern the residue of his cum dried on the delicate skin of her inner thighs, then up to her clothed pussy, which is at this point soaked through with her own desire. Halbrand’s approval rumbles low in his chest. He turns his head to brush his lips against her ear, which sends a delicious shiver through her body.
“Somebody’s excited for me, aren’t they?”
Galadriel bites her lip. It’s almost pathetic how much she was looking forward to this, to showing him how well she obeyed him today.
“Were you thinking about me today?” Halbrand inquires, slowly and firmly rubbing his fingers up and down the wet crotch of her underwear.
“Yes,” she breathes shakily.
“What did you think about?”
“I… I kept thinking about you fucking me,” she admits, attempting to keep from squeezing her legs on his hand. “On the—on your desk.”
“Mmm,” he nods, then pulls his hand out from between Galadriel’s legs and turns her around. Within seconds she’s pressed up against the island, the edge of the granite digging uncomfortably into her lower back. He gazes down at her with those sultry green eyes, takes a sip of whiskey, and she’s curious if he thought about her today like she did him. The question is on the tip of her tongue, but ultimately she decides not to risk it. She doesn’t want to hear him say no, even though she knows he was busy all day and probably didn’t even have time.
“You did well today, Galadriel. I do think you’ve earned a reward.”
Galadriel’s stomach does a little flip-flop. She watches as Halbrand throws back the rest of his whiskey and sets the glass on the counter. He grabs her hand and guides her to the hallway opposite the living room, past a couple of closed doors before stopping at one that opens to a short flight of stairs leading down. She follows after him, turns a corner to head down another short flight, and then they are standing in his basement. Halbrand turns the light on and Galadriel stares for a long, breathless moment, and her first thought is that Halbrand is really serious about this sex stuff.
It’s a good-sized room, about the size of his master bedroom upstairs. The warm light is low and recessed, making the navy walls seem likely darker than they really are, but Galadriel can see well enough. The room is filled with various furniture and other objects, the largest of which is a crisply made bed against the wall in the center of the room, outfitted with dangling rings at each short post and a slotted headboard that is similar to the design in his master—though the upstairs bed gives off more of a cozy vibe. Other pieces of furniture include a large, sleek armoire, a black leather chair in the far corner and a matching leather sofa and footrest on the opposite wall. Near the sofa against the wall is a big, dark wooden cross in the shape of an X, also outfitted with hanging rings. There’s an odd-looking bench in another corner and a steel hook attached to the middle of the ceiling, low enough that somebody as tall as Halbrand could reach it. One entire wall is covered in a seamless, ceiling-to-floor mirror, and Galadriel spies another mirror hanging directly over the bed. There’s only one other door, which she assumes leads to a bathroom of some sort. The few large paintings interspersed along the walls are the last thing she notices, and all she can deduce is that they’re fairly abstract and rather suggestive in nature. Briefly, Galadriel allows herself to wonder how many other partners he’s had in here before her.
“Soooo… this is like… your… sex… dungeon?” Galadriel manages, earning an amused chuckle from Halbrand next to her. She feels like an idiot saying it, but he doesn’t appear to care.
“I prefer the term playroom, but it amounts to the same,” Halbrand replies, heading over to the black sofa nearby. He sits, props up his legs on the leather footrest, spreads his arms over the back, and proceeds to observe Galadriel’s meandering, investigatory traipse around the room. She approaches the weird bench, which resembles more a mini picnic table covered in dark leather and studded with hanging rings, and lightly runs her fingers over the top.
“What’s this?”
“It’s called a spanking bench.”
Regardless of everything they’ve done together so far, Galadriel experiences a little pang of embarrassment. Her eyes land on the mirror directly in front of her on the wall, where in the reflection across the room she sees Halbrand scrutinizing her. Despite its name, Galadriel is still unsure of how one would actually use a spanking bench, but assumes one day she’ll find out. She moves away from the bench toward the armoire, glancing impishly at Halbrand before opening the double-doors. Inside is a healthy assortment of bondage paraphernalia: different lengths and thicknesses of rope, blindfolds, bottles of flavored and unflavored lube, handcuffs. On the bottom shelf is a spreader bar. Galadriel suspects if she had been a burglar and stumbled into this room by accident, she might assume at first glance Halbrand was a serial killer.
Galadriel next opens one of the waist-high drawers. Inside is a small collection of metal and glass plugs; some long, some short, some thicker than others. She swallows hard and closes the drawer. She questions, once again, how she found herself here. She’s in a literal sex dungeon—sorry, playroom—with a man twice her age who had her sign a literal contract so he could throw obscene amounts of money at her and use her body—and she doesn’t even want to leave, because the thought of what he’s going to do to her in here makes her weak in the knees.
New Galadriel, indeed.
She turns around to address Halbrand. “So what’s my reward?”
“Pick something.”
“Pick something? In here?”
“Yes, anything,” he clarifies. “You choose our activity tonight. That’s your reward.”
Galadriel returns her attention to the armoire, attempting to mask her sudden titillation. She chews on her lip, assessing the available options. There’s a lot to choose from, none of which she has any experience with. Her eyes land on a length of thin rope hanging from a hook on the back of the door, the same kind he used to bind her with when he made her come a million times with just his fingers—it’s the only familiar thing to her. She grabs it, closes the door, and turns around to see Halbrand still waiting patiently. She walks toward him and drops the rope on the seat next to him.
“I want you to tie me up,” she states. “After that, it’s your decision.”
Halbrand’s cock twitches in his pants, fingers curling a little tighter on the back of the sofa. Otherwise he betrays no hint of emotion. Even his voice is dispassionate.
“That’s your pick?” he says, though not sarcastically. He’s making sure she’s sure.
“Yes.”
Now he’s got the faintest smirk. “Because you liked it so much last time?”
Galadriel holds his gaze, doesn’t respond. Doesn’t need to.
“Undress.”
Galadriel grabs two fistfuls of her skirt and unhurriedly pulls it down, swallowing her unexpected nervousness—or maybe it’s excitement, who knows. Halbrand’s eyes follow the movement, then flicker back up to when it falls to pool in a pretty pink puddle around her feet. He stops her after she removes her shirt, then merely eyes her up and down. Galadriel supposes she should be a smidge more embarrassed than she actually is, but she can’t possibly feel like that with the way he’s studying her. Not quite with outright lust because he’s too restrained for that, though she does note the subtle fall of his brow and the way his lips part slightly because his breaths are coming just a little bit deeper.
Galadriel has never considered herself particularly attractive, and by the time Celeborn came and went, any inkling of such a thing was long gone. But when she recalls the subdued anger in Halbrand’s voice the other night when she implied her looks weren’t anything to write home about, and with the way he’s looking at her right now—with a more than perceptible erection between his legs—all of that seems a million miles away.
“Turn around.”
She does so, then hears the rustle of clothing as he stands up behind her. He’s close enough that she imagines she can detect the heat radiating off of him, and is anticipating him so much that a shiver goes through her body before he even touches her. Halbrand places his hands carefully on her hips, then runs them languidly up her sides and back down, like he’s simply appreciating the feeling of her bare skin beneath his fingers. When he ascends once more to cup her through her bright pink bra, Galadriel melts backwards against him. She rolls her head to the side and covers his hands with hers as he kneads her, even sidles one hand into the cup to tease her nipple. Galadriel sighs quietly when he kisses the side of her neck. Down over her shoulder, stubble scraping deliciously against her skin. Eventually he returns to the shell of her ear, voice breathy.
“Baby, I’m going to take such good care of you tonight,” he whispers, dragging one hand away from her breast and down over her belly to the spot between her legs. The heat that’s been simmering inside her immediately bursts to life as his fingers glide across the soft, lacy material of her underwear. She opens her legs just enough to let him rub her pussy, taking a prideful satisfaction in the fact that he can discern how wet she is for him through the fabric. Halbrand resists the urge to slip his fingers into her underwear. That’ll come soon enough.
After a couple of minutes of teasing and touching, Halbrand finally has Galadriel take her bra off so she’s only got her undies on. He grabs the rope off the sofa and leads her to the nearby cross, which is set away from the wall by about a foot. There’s a set of hinges at the base, which Galadriel assumes means that it can be leaned backwards to rest at an angle against the wall. There’s a horizontal bar running between the top of the cross, as well as the bottom, and both feature interspersed hanging rings and metal hooks.
Halbrand pushes Galadriel against the center of the cross, where there’s a leather cushion for her backside, then grabs her wrists and begins to bind them together with the rope. Galadriel only observes in silent suspense; once she’s bound and he’s made sure the rope isn’t too tight, he raises her arms above her head.
“Up,” he murmurs, and Galadriel has to lift slightly up on her toes before the rope catches around a metal hook in the center of the bar. There’s enough slack that she isn’t quite on her tip-toes, but not enough that she can remain flat-footed on the ground. The position causes what little breasts she possess to jut out, and with a pang Galadriel suddenly realizes how helpless she’s just become.
“No blindfold this time?” Galadriel jokes, attempting to ease her own anxiety.
Halbrand’s little half-smile does not reassure her.
“Not this time,” he replies, voice low. Abruptly, Galadriel remembers Naminde’s story about her adventurous ex who was into stuff like this.
“Do you—do you have nipple clamps?” she asks.
“Yes,” he answers. “Do you want me to use them?”
“No, no,” she says quickly. “I just… I didn’t know if you were going to do anything… crazy.”
“And what does crazy constitute, necessarily?”
“Um… like… whips…?”
Halbrand smirks and takes her face in his hand, tilting it up. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll save that for when your ass isn’t so tender.”
Galadriel can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic. Her timorous laugh is cut short when Halbrand moves even closer, until he’s almost pressed up against her, and inserts his hand between her legs again. Galadriel wonders why he hasn’t taken her panties off yet, but doesn’t bother to voice it. Him touching her like this still feels good, even if she is bound to whatever the fuck this contraption is. She’ll have to remember to ask about it later.
“I can do anything I want to you like this, do you know that?” he purrs.
Galadriel swallows hard, the warmth of his touch somewhat dissipating. She gives a terse little nod, acknowledging his comment.
“Words, please, Galadriel.”
“Y-yes.”
Halbrand’s smile widens, like he’s got an idea, though it doesn’t alleviate the odd sensation in her stomach. He heads over to the armoire, lingers for a minute, then grabs something and returns. In his hand Galadriel glimpses a curved, dark blue vibrator. It’s bigger than the sad, plain wand she has at home that currently lives somewhere in the depths of her closet.
“I think we’ll play a game.”
Galadriel finds it difficult to hide the warble in her voice. “A game?”
“Mm. I’m going to use this vibrator on you, only you can’t make a sound. If you do, you don’t get to come.”
Galadriel’s mouth falls open. That’s impossible.
“But I—I can’t help it if I—”
“Those are the rules.”
“But—”
“Here, this might make it easier,” he interrupts, hooking his fingers into her panties and tugging them down—practically has to peel them out from between her legs because she’s so wet—then standing back up once they’re off. “Open up, doll.”
Galadriel sputters. “Halbrand, I—”
“Are you arguing with me?”
Galadriel immediately presses her lips together at his tone.
“No,” she mumbles.
“Open.”
She haltingly does as she’s told. Halbrand stuffs her underwear—crotch first—into her mouth, enough so that only one side of the hot pink, lacy waistband dangles down over her chin. Immediately she can taste herself, an entire’s day worth of her own desire filling her mouth now. She doesn’t know quite what to think of it, but she does know that the aching between her legs just became a little bit more unbearable.
“Look at me, Galadriel,” Halbrand orders, and Galadriel keeps her eyes fixed on his as he places the smooth matte vibrator against her stomach. It’s not even on yet, but merely its touch causes her to tense, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Halbrand. He drags it down through her curls and in between her legs before ascending again to leave a thin, sticky trail over her skin.
Galadriel flinches when he turns it on, instantly filling the air with a quiet, droning buzz. Though it’s on a lower setting, the muscles in her abdomen immediately flutter and she squeezes her legs together. Halbrand trails the vibrator up over one of her nipples, causing it to further harden in the cool air, circling it, then down to her belly, then back up to the other nipple.
He’s still staring at her, pressed gently against her with one leg between hers to keep them open. He knows she’s going to try her hardest to not make a sound because she knows he’s serious about not letting her come if she does, but he’s also drinking in the subtle twitches and heavy blinks and fleeting, unintentional eye rolls as he moves the toy around her body. When Galadriel’s head begins to loll to the side, Halbrand reaches up with his other hand and wraps his fingers around her neck to force her to keep looking at him. His grip is tight enough that she can’t turn her head away again, but not so tight that her vision goes bright and fuzzy.
Ultimately, the vibrator descends once more between Galadriel’s legs. Halbrand’s lips quirk upwards when she squeezes her eyes shut and clenches her teeth on her panties. She lets out a harsh, muffled breath through the fabric, but he won’t count that. His motion with the toy is almost lethargic, but he knows he’s on or around her clit when her body jerks against his. He glances up to see her fingers digging hard into her palms, the rope stretched taut because she’s pulling so hard on it.
“Yes, Galadriel, that’s it,” he breathes, gaze falling down to her face, lips parting as he watches her expression contort in quiet, tormented pleasure. “That’s my pretty girl.”
Galadriel squirms as much as is physically possible, gritting her teeth against a wave of what feels like panicked desperation; unable to make a sound, everything’s trapped inside and quickly mounting to an unendurable high. She yanks uselessly on the rope, straining upwards against Halbrand who still her firmly pinned to the cross with his body and one leg notched between hers. He keeps her face inclined toward him, wants to see everything he’s doing to her, and through hazy blinks she notices the green of his eyes vanish as his pupils dilate. Every now and then he caresses the side of her neck, able to easily discern the frenetic gallop of her pulse beneath his thumb.
It doesn’t take long for Galadriel to come, and when she does she can’t help the stifled moan that erupts out of her. Abruptly the panties are ripped from her mouth and her moan descends into a helpless whine, because Halbrand’s still got the vibrator pressed against her, unrelenting, and he swallows her warbling shriek by covering her mouth with his. The toy is closer now to her opening, giving her the most fleeting of reprieves, just long enough that she’s coming down, before he nudges it back up against her clit, which all but immediately sends her careening into another noisy orgasm. About ten seconds later Halbrand switches the vibrator off, but keeps it nestled between her legs, lazily rubbing it up and down. Galadriel keens and trembles with the aftershocks, panting loudly. She’s too frazzled to respond to his kiss, and when he leans away slightly, she stares up at him with teary eyes and sees the half-smirk on his face.
“Let me hear you now, baby girl.”
Suddenly the vibrator is on again, an even higher setting this time, and he angles it directly against her clit. Galadriel doesn’t quite scream, but it’s close. Her entire body is immediately on fire, electricity licking almost painfully throughout. Her not-quite scream trails off as she goes rigid against the cross, and Halbrand can’t tell if she’s crying or choking, unable to speak or even to breathe as her body is wracked with waves of searing, mind-numbing pleasure.
Halbrand tortures her for a few seconds longer before clicking the toy off and dropping it unceremoniously to the ground with a dull thud, only to then himself drop to his knees in front of her. Galadriel sobs his name when he hooks his hands behind her knees and picks her up off the ground, pinning her to the cross again and draping her legs over his shoulders so he’s the only thing supporting her. When he seals his mouth over her pussy, Galadriel squeals at the overstimulation. She arches her back and strains uselessly against her bonds, barely registers when she pulls a muscle in the middle of her back; all she can feel is Halbrand’s tongue on her—in her—and his nails digging into her thighs, stubble grating on her sensitive skin.
She doesn’t last long and shortly after comes for a fourth time when, without removing his mouth, Halbrand slides two fingers inside her and curls them up. Galadriel doesn’t even feel like she’s in her own body anymore. Maybe she’s floating, maybe she’s drowning, she doesn’t know, doesn’t care—the orgasm is so strong she can’t even appreciate it for what it is, and when it just keeps going like his fingers keep curling inside her, she begins to cry, so loudly that it obscures the wet, obscene noises emanating from her lower half. She’s thrashing as much as she can, which isn’t much, but Halbrand keeps his face imperturbably buried between her thighs. It’s only when she loudly wails his name that he takes pity on her, and gives her one final lick with the flat of his tongue before withdrawing his fingers. He tilts his head to peer up at her before kissing the inside of her thigh, then nipping and sucking a couple of bruises into existence.
Galadriel's chest is heaving because she’s barely able to catch her breath. All the strength’s gone out of her, and she’s grateful Halbrand’s got her on his shoulders because otherwise she doesn’t think she’d be able to support herself very well. Halbrand momentarily returns his attention to her pussy, licking and sucking gently. He relishes the way her thighs quiver on either side of his head, each little convulsion every time he teases her clit.
Finally, Halbrand carefully maneuvers out from beneath Galadriel. When he’s sure her legs aren’t going to give out from under her, he takes a step back. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve, then begins to unbutton his shirt. Through heavily lidded eyes, Galadriel watches him kick his shoes off, then unbuckle his belt and remove his pants and underwear, until he’s standing there naked in front of her. She doesn’t get long to study his body in the dim lighting before he’s pressed up against her once again. He kicks her legs apart with his knees and Galadriel perceives his cock hard between her legs. Merely the feeling of his dick brushing against her clit has her whimpering.
Halbrand lifts Galadriel’s legs, pinning her bottom half against the cross. She groans loudly when he enters her, allows her weight to bring her down until there’s not a hair’s breadth between their bodies. He’s so deep inside her that she gets that uncomfortable pang in her lower belly, and she winces and lets out a haggard breath. He rolls his hips against her, causing the discomfort to mount, but at the same time it feels so good and she doesn’t understand. Halbrand wraps his hand around her neck, not delicately, and forces her head back so she has nowhere else to look but directly into his eyes as he fucks her.
“Do you like that, Galadriel?” he rasps, breath fanning over her face. “You like my cock inside you?”
Galadriel hears him, but her mind is in a million different places. She feels drunk without having even drank anything. She whimpers something in reply, but doesn’t know what she just said because she doesn’t exactly know what it was he asked her. Whatever she attempts to say, however, is cut short when Halbrand brings her down hard on his cock, knocking the breath from her lungs. She squeezes her eyes shut, the high-pitched moan torn from her throat wild and unrestrained.
“What am I going to do next with you, hmm?” he wonders grittily. He occasionally pauses between thrusts to kiss or nip beneath her jaw or her ear, even once licks the side of her face and tastes the salty damp of her cheek, then inclines his head to sink his teeth into the top of her shoulder, earning him a surprised squeal.
“Should I fuck your mouth? Fuck you in the ass?”
Galadriel is virtually gasping for air, still not really understanding what he’s saying to her. Maybe that’s why Halbrand moderates the force of his thrusts to a more leisurely rhythm; exhales steadily, strokes up and down her thighs, biting back his own groans because he can feel her inner walls periodically fluttering around him.
“Would you like that, baby? Do you want my cock in your ass?”
Galadriel is present enough to recognize the word “cock” and “ass.” Halbrand grins when she whines out a long, piteous “no” and attempts to adjust herself on his dick. She moans again when he slides out a few inches and then back in, resuming his previously frantic cadence. Her little mewls begin to sound more desperate, because with each pass he’s also rubbing against her already overstimulated clit; not enough to quite get her there again just yet, but enough that it incites her. He pauses to grind his hips, churning deeply within her, and she groans like she’s in pain.
Halbrand is done playing with her. He tightens his hold on the backs of her thighs and raises her a few inches until the rope comes off the hook above her. Galadriel’s arms, tingling and like jelly, fall down to drape around his neck. She mumbles something incoherent as he turns and walks the few steps to deposit her gently on the sofa. Galadriel slowly exhales, shoulders aching. Halbrand doesn’t give her any time to relax, however, because moments later he’s on his knees in front of her again, opening her legs, and burying his face in her pussy. Galadriel cries out and immediately tangles her fingers in his hair, whimpering pathetically as he eats her out. Halbrand isn’t necessarily meaning for her to come right now, he only wanted to taste her again. Less than a minute later he’s on his feet and she’s flipped over, dragged back by her ass to the edge of the sofa, and swiftly penetrated.
Galadriel digs her nails into the cushion beneath, wheezy little huffs muffled by the leather as he fucks her from behind. Her ass, no less bruised than it was this morning, gets the brunt of it, and Galadriel has to clench her teeth between breaths to keep from crying out. Somewhere far away she can hear Halbrand’s heavy breathing, his occasional grunts when he buries himself so deeply inside her that she feels like she’s going to choke. Halbrand settles one knee on the edge of the sofa between her legs and leans forward, forcing Galadriel a few inches higher and smearing the puddle of drool that’s accumulated beneath her mouth across her face. His rhythm falters and he slams home, finishing inside her with a harsh groan that rapidly devolves into panting. The sensation of him coming inside her nearly pushes Galadriel into another orgasm, which she’s glad doesn’t happen because she doesn’t think she can take another one. Halbrand eases in and out of her a few times, groaning again when she shifts slightly against him.
When Halbrand eventually pulls out with a deep sigh, Galadriel remains still. Moments later she’s being rotated until she’s on her back, legs hanging off the edge of the sofa and feet resting on the floor. Halbrand supports himself above her with one knee between her legs and the other braced on the floor. His breaths are still heavy, stomach rising and falling against hers; both covered in sweat, reeking of sex and each other. She flinches when he reaches down to touch her pussy, whimpering when he trails his fingers through her folds that are sopping with her own arousal and now his cum dripping out of her. He briefly inserts one finger inside her, only to withdraw it and lightly tease her clit, which is currently hopelessly dead to the world. She wonders what he’s doing since he just finished.
“Do you know how goddamn beautiful you are like this?” Halbrand asks huskily from above her. His eyes, half-lidded, wander aimlessly over her face—the pretty flush in her cheeks, her lips that are bloody red because she’s bit and chewed on them so much, the silly little smile at his compliment. Warmth blooms inside Galadriel’s chest, separate from the remnants of their fucking; to know that she’s the one who can make his voice tremble like that, to know that she can crack that hard veneer of his and make him come undone, too.
“Tell me,” Galadriel says, somewhat indistinctly, and bringing her still-bound hands up to drape over the back of his neck. She urges him closer and presses her lips to his, deepening the kiss, running her tongue through his mouth, curling behind his teeth when he pulls away to look down at her. “Tell me how beautiful I am.”
“Don’t worry, baby, I will,” he softly assures her, smirking at the far away look on her face. “We’ve still got the whole night, don’t we?”
Galadriel lets out a little breath when she realizes what he’s implying. She’s so tired, and aching everywhere—especially her back and between her legs—but she knows what he wants to hear, and deep down she knows whatever he wants, she wants.
“Yes,” she whispers.