Entry tags:
the light of crowns, the dark of dreams

( from here. )
[ "Hold onto me and we shall fly like dragons."
The firestorm that spins up from the ground to surround them exists outside a thin barrier that his power keeps from doing any harm, whirling up with magma from the rocks beneath their feet until all sensation of standing is gone and there is a freefall, like flying perhaps, for a host of seconds where he cradles Adar to keep him from falling into the nothingness of a world absent outside the tornado. The lava hardens, the hot breeze dies down, and their feet touch a floor of shining obsidian very much like the kind that plated Angband.
He listens to Adar's breathing for a moment, enjoying how loud it is, then the circular wall around them cracks and falls away, crumbling to reveal a room full of inky shadow and an unseeable ceiling. A bed towers close by, the posters of it hung with satin so smooth it could be oil-slick, and all is silent.
Sauron's soft golden glow illuminates a little, but he raises a hand from Adar and ignites the candelabra overhead to assist with a dim light like sunset. All the while, his gaze never leaves his uruk general. ]
Welcome.
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Then there is the kiss, and Adar's hand releases his cock to instead weave into his golden hair and hold him close. It tastes like copper and iron and an endless hunger that burns within him now. His hips roll, unrelenting, his body aching to release but still wanting to see the maia beneath him come undone. A game with his master he was surely losing, between his hips and his voice. He manages for at most half a minute more after that last encouragement curls encouragingly in his ruined ear and then he cannot hold on anymore. He loses himself, the ability to keep his hips at an even pace, the strength to hold himself up fully as his cock empties itself as he slams into his master. A mess of moans fall from his lips, words uttered in every language he has ever learnt as pleasure crashes over him.]
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My turn ...
[ It's nothing to invert their positions and push Adar to the side, rolling with him so Sauron sits on his lap. He grins, eyes bright in the gloaming bedchamber, and steadies himself on a marred chest as he starts to rock his hips so that Adar's oversensitive cock isn't left alone for a moment, daring him to complain with a look. It feels so, so good to have him hard inside. Permission certainly isn't given for him to change that, however difficult it may be. ]
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That sweet reverie doesn't last long. Before he can even string together a coherent sentence he finds himself now beneath his master, pinned between his determined hips and the silky sheets. The contrast of it would be tantalising if it had happened minutes before, but now it just makes him moan, every nerve in his cock still oversensitive to even the smallest touch.]
My lord... [Is it a plea to stop or a plea to find his pleasure with Adar's body? Neither his tone nor his mind seem sure about which one holds more weight. But he is sure he cannot look away, does not even want too.]
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crying out in pleasure, the sinuous writhing of his hips a greedy, self-indulgent thing, working over his general. ]Lat zaug kramp kuluk izg nargzab, [ fiery eyes focus on Adar, reaping their way into turmoiled thoughts, ] amukhparhor izg nargzab.
[ There, he gasps, driving down, mouth agape and caught on golden strands of hair. There, there, there, yesyesyes. Sauron bares his teeth, sharper than before, wolflike. ]
Rad skaat urzku ishi izish, izg frum lat can. Izg draagh lat!
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Yet regret begins to creep back when his master speaks, the language not just falling easily to his misshapen ears but seeming to snake possessively around him and his mind. He tries to resist the words, because as much as he was Sauron's he was also his own being again, but every time he gains purchase back in his own mind he is overwhelmed again in body and can think of nothing else. His hands grip Sauron's smooth, firm thighs but do not try to impede him, nails just pressing almost hard enough to cut into that smooth skin.
Sauron had been playing with him like he was just a puppy before, but now the wolf was truly at the door, teeth and all.]
My lord, I couldn– [Except he could, he could, he could probably go a dozen times or more if that was what Sauron wanted because it was like his body was seized by the command and his hips rise to meet his lords, and in a few short thrusts after the command that might as well have grabbed him by the throat, Adar comes again, his body arching, toes curling, the entire overwhelming thing that tosses him into a state of openness, of vulnerability he didn't normally carry. His cries much louder than before. Nothing measured or ordered was left about him.]
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He releases Adar's throat but leans down to kiss him in a slow, lazy tide of silent demand, wanting to taste his exhausted breaths. ]
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Yet despite all of those mixed feelings, he kisses his master back. His hands coming from his thighs to tangle in that beautiful golden hair and cradle his cheek. Adar was breathless, stealing what air he could as their lips moved together. Sauron was so beautiful that Adar was half convinced Ilúvatar was having a laugh the day he made him. For even though he could assume so many forms, he certainly had a taste for fairer ones, a taste that seemed built-in from the start. And he was so beautiful, and so terrible all at once.]
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What a way to ensure favouritism ...
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It was sweetly domestic, if you knew nothing about either of them.]
I never did enjoy failing you. [For several reasons, at first simply because of the pain involved but later, when he was properly reformed into a Uruk there had been a deeper urge that had little to do with the terror he could evoke.]
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[ He laces their fingers together, playing with Adar's hand on his chest. Much toastier than before, the shadows reclaim the room as a steady fireplace keeps itself in one place nearby, providing a dull golden light. ]
You did very well, I am pleased.
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Thank you, my lord. [His smile softens a little to something more genuine.] For allowing me to.
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Sleep now. When you wake, we shall dine.
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And then he sleeps, easily for once. Without too many dreams (or nightmares). Just the warm comfort of not being so alone for once.]