The Ties That Bind

Chapter Twenty

Unfortunately, by the time supper ended and she and Thorin were back ensconced in the privacy of his (how long would it take before she thought of them as hers as well?) apartments, she was far too tired to do much more than sink onto the sofa, lean her head back, and let her eyes close.

The cushion to her left sank and Thorin murmured, "Let's get you to bed, mesmel."

"Just leave me here. I'm too tired to move. I hadn't planned on answering so many questions."

"You are their new queen." She didn't have to see him to know he smiled. She heard it in his voice, heard the amusement as he added, "And a beautiful elf besides. Of course they are curious about you."

"While I thank you for the compliment, curious is not the feeling they gave off. It felt more like they feared I might end them all in the dead of night. I'm skilled with bow and dagger, but not that skilled and I hope I was able to convey that."

"That's where you're wrong, you know. Dwarves might not trust most elves, but we've no doubt we would be able to defend ourselves from one. Besides, I know your weak spots."

With that, the air around her stirred and a chill raced through her from the scruff of his beard as he swept a light kiss along the side of her neck. The tip of his tongue flicked against the bit of skin he'd just kissed, and she shivered, her heart picking up its pace as he kissed higher on her neck. And then higher still. After each kiss, the tip of his tongue brushed the same spot his lips had stroked, and she couldn't help but lean her head to the left, biting down on her bottom lip as he brushed just below her ear, then her jaw, and along her chin before his lips claimed hers.

He slid an arm about her waist, pulled her toward him. Her weariness forgotten, she pushed away from the sofa cushion, shifting to come astride him, wrapping her arms about his neck as he pulled her firmly against him.

The chill in the apartment faded, the heat they generated warmer than any fire on the hearth. Thorin broke his kiss long enough to tug her tunic over her head, a sly smile on his lips as he caught the ribbon of her chemisette to tug the bow free, then pulled the laces free entirely. The linen fell away from her, and his eyes visible darkened as his gaze roamed over her. Although all he could see was the inner curves of her breasts, her nippled puckered as if he caressed them with his fingers. And when he whisked the chemisette over her head, the skim of linen over those taut beads made her suck in a sharp breath.

"You are so beautiful, mesmel," he whispered, his voice husky and seductive. "So very beautiful, indeed."

As he spoke, he traced a thick forefinger along the inner curve of her left breast. Traced down along the lower curve. Up over her nipple. As he did, he held her gaze, his smile as heady as his touch. Tingles rippled through her, desire taking root deep within her core, where the heat began to slowly pool. He caught her nipple between that thick forefinger and his thumb to roll, to pluck and tug, and with each teasing pass, heat became fire and desire became need. The sweet ache made her rock against that solid bulge of him rising to meet her and with the first movement, he sucked in a hard breath, his eyes growing heavy-lidded.

He leaned in, his lips replacing his fingers, and as he swirled his tongue about her nipple, Eirlys thrust her fingers into his hair, twisted and tugged as she ground harder against him. A low moan rose in his throat, trapped by her breast in his mouth, and it was her turn to moan when he gently teased her pebbled nipple with equally gentle teeth.

His fingers danced along her back, down into the waist of her breeches, and he slid them around to tug the buttons through their holes. The fabric parted at his insistence, his fingers slipping into her curls, parting them, sliding along her aroused flesh to caress her, to coax her desire further. Damp heat pooled between her thighs, her hips arching as he slid that thick forefinger inside her with a gentle thrust.