[It feels as though they may never get out of this bed again and Adar isn't even sure that he cares. He feels whole, here, their lips joined like their bodies ached to do, hands touching or roaming, the sweet victory of feeling warm and wanted. His cock is hard, aching to feel more than that magnificently clever hand around him, a wish that is granted before he can think to ask or claim him himself. The moan that falls from his lips is unbridled and wanton as his hips begin to move again, somehow not exhausted even now.]
My love. [He says softly.] My lord. [Morgoth might have ruled the roost, but Adar paid him no heed. All matters of importance had no higher place to go to him than Sauron. All his love and desire and devotion were fixed on him as well.]
no subject
My love. [He says softly.] My lord. [Morgoth might have ruled the roost, but Adar paid him no heed. All matters of importance had no higher place to go to him than Sauron. All his love and desire and devotion were fixed on him as well.]