[ ... The hand he presses against Adar's chest to prove it does absolutely nothing. Thanks, stupid human strength.
He rolls into him instead, pressing into the heat of Adar's body and draping a leg over his hip to draw that ridiculously hard cock closer, kisses finding a throat and chin. ]
Adar pulls him close and adjusts their positions until he can guide his cock into him, taking his time this time as he sinks into him as Aemond kisses him.]
[ Inhaling as they sink together, he manages to hiss out, ] You did for five minutes there.
[ But being right isn't important, not when he can draw Adar down for a loving kiss and run his hands down that body he adores so much. Aemond's knees brush up along elven hips and he arches at the same moment to settle him right against his prostate with a bitten-off hum of satisfaction, knowing Adar well enough now to get his own back and give him the sight he knows he likes most: one very genuinely happy Aemond stuffed with his cock. ]
Love me.
[ In Sindarin, to contrast what he meant the first time. ]
[Five minutes was barely a span of heartbeats to an elf, and Aemond had been batting him away as if he was overloaded so he had wanted to give him the space. He doesn't argue though, it's not worth the effort when they can instead try to become one as they did most nights.
A hum of pleasure escapes him both from all the touches and the feeling of his husband engulfing his hard cock. He wants him so much sometimes that it worries him. He cannot afford to be as free with Aemond as he could another elf... or a maia. Not because he didn't think Aemond would want it but because if he hurt him he would never forgive himself.]
Is that what you want now? Truly? [He asks in return, leaning down to kiss him softly as his hand supports his hips, holding him in just that spot he had angled himself at without Aemond having to strain the whole time as he thrusts into him, slowly, slowly, but gaining speed as he goes.]
[ It's a terrible life, really. Having a husband who can make you come far too soon, who knows exactly how to fuck you properly, who can hold you in that particular position ... True suffering. For Aemond's pride, anyway.
Moaning as he wraps his arms around Adar and kisses him fiercely, he can barely reply when already used so well and instead digs his nails into his husband's scalp, long dark hair wound about his fingers to keep him close. Every time Adar's cock fills him he muffles a whimper, seeing stars. ]
Love, [ it's too good, Adar knows him too well, ] oh, my love ...
[ He is helpless when they fuck, as much as he enjoys riding Adar sometimes and teasing him, Aemond has a youthful human limit for pleasure and it always gets revved up too easily when he's with the man he loves and trusts, demands turning to begging of Do not stop, I love you, I love you so much. ]
[It is gratifying and soul-cleansing to be wanted so much after lifetimes of being feared or cast out. There is nothing Aemond likes he has not committed to memory, fully bent on using every trick he has ever known to make him keep coming back to him. To never let the flame that burns between them diminish.
Though words aren't things Aemond is finding easy to use, he does show his approval in others ways as Adar's hips roll, his cock stretching him with every thrust, pushing as deeply inside of him as he can. He feels so good, hot and tight around Adar's cock which drives into him again and again. Soft sounds of pleasure eminate from him, moans, sighs, a pleased growl once or twice when he feels especially close to losing his carefully maintained control. The sweet I Love You's earn him an extra kiss, but no soft sweet nothings this time.]
I want to feel you come around my cock like you did around my fingers. [He purrs, instead, dragging his teeth over Aemond's strong but delicate throat.] So hard that I cannot help but fill you with my seed until you overflow with it.
[ He grips Adar's shoulder and in between messy kisses Aemond takes note of what makes him moan and shiver the most. He already knows but there's never a situation he doesn't want to take advantage of and pick up new tips from, especially with his husband who is apparently older than the sun and has done more fruity things than Aemond can dream. Adar loves it when Aemond tightens up around each deep thrust, the elf clearly tries not to swing too hard each time because he growls whenever he grinds in deep and gets that reaction; Aemond crosses his ankles behind Adar and drags him down.
He gasps and groans as a result, body cinching up immediately to flutter tension around that cock from root to tip. The way he nods says he'll come soon, absolutely, but his smirk and the way he digs his nails into Adar's shoulder and arm tell a different story, confident in his own right. ]
You'll give me that seed anyway, love, because you want me full of it. Oh, gods ...
[His whole body feels taught like a bowstring pulled back too long and ready to snap. He could just come, and he could easily come again, of all the things his body had been trained for that was surely what he was best at.
He hated it.
He also loved it.
It was dark, terrible, degrading and immensely satisfying. He could fuck Aemond until the young man genuinely begged for mercy, if he wished, or he could pretend that going once was more than enough, he could be a sweet and gentle thing.]
Making me come first will not stop me from making you come again, and again until you cannot take any more of me. [Though worded like something of a threat, there is clear love in his voice, and a desperate want to let go.]
[ Oh, beautiful, fierce man. Aemond cups his face, bringing him in for a brush of lips, his hips shuddering with how much self-control it takes to keep his muscles taut around Adar there and feeling it from the inside. Here is where I want you, always. ]
I can take it all.
[ There's so much stubbornness in his own gaze, noses nuzzling before he kisses him soundly, relaxing his legs a little so that Adar can fuck as he needs to. ]
[While he ultimately had the ability to outdo Aemond... he also found he didn't want too. His dragon could win this round, could taste victory. As they kiss, a deep and delving thing no less so than his cock fills him, Adar lets go of that fiercely won control and within a handful of thrusts he comes in Aemond, hard and hot, still fucking him without missing a beat even though his whole body shudders and moans press into the kiss until he has forgotten how to breathe.]
[ Aemond's pride is a thin thing, easily snapped when Adar fucks him roughly the way his husband needs to, letting him feel the urgent driving of hips and press of powerful thighs as heat spills deep inside and causes him to cry out; causes him to come too with a broken gasp, a cry fractured by the fucking that shortens his breath. He will ache tomorrow, already knows it, but more importantly he wants to prove he can take everything Adar has to give so he holds on and kisses him back, legs clamped in place around a scarred elven waist.
His head tips back as he closes his eyes and runs his hands down Adar's back, making sure to pet and reassure. Aemond isn't so easily broken, bruises are nothing. He loves being the place Adar buries his body and soul, loyal and adoring in his own reserved, needy ways. Plaintive and tempestuous at times but he thinks Adar loves that in him too.
Husband, Aemond whispers in their languages, kisses finding a marred temple. If anyone ever burned Adar again, Aemond would feed them to Vhagar. You are my heart. ]
[He wants so many things. To please, ultimately, there is something that has been embedded in his soul that makes it impossible for him to not want to give more than he takes, to do things for the sake of love, to obey as much as he bucks against the very concept of the word. There are things so deeply carved within him that it would take the Valar to undo them.
This is no different, in a lot of ways. He wants his own pleasure, like a desperate rutting animal in heat, but he also wants to see Aemond come, to give him all the pleasure he can take and not a drop more regardless of his own needs.
For they are not needs they are demands, orders, perversions pressed into his being with fire and magic and a deep reordering of his body and soul to make him a better pet, more useful, tireless in the pursuit of things he tried not to think about anymore and yet could not avoid.
Adar slows his hips down, a false notion of tiredness showing in his movements and the way he drew near to his husband. Aemond's voice draws him back to the present as his eyes flutter closed at a kiss.]
And you are mine. [He hoped. He tried to be enough, to be good, to be strong, to be sure that this time it really was love and not some perverse thing but sometimes he did wonder if he wasn't just lying to both of them and Sauron had not stolen that ability, too.
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[ Still would have thrown him around though! He flops back on the pillows, hair a halo around his pink face. ]
I've a feeling your eyes are still saying cute so perhaps you ought to fuck that out of me.
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[He rolls over so he is leaning over him on his elbow and leans down to steal another kiss from his dramatic darling.]
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[ ... The hand he presses against Adar's chest to prove it does absolutely nothing. Thanks, stupid human strength.
He rolls into him instead, pressing into the heat of Adar's body and draping a leg over his hip to draw that ridiculously hard cock closer, kisses finding a throat and chin. ]
Fuck me.
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Adar pulls him close and adjusts their positions until he can guide his cock into him, taking his time this time as he sinks into him as Aemond kisses him.]
I won't leave you wanting, ever.
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[ But being right isn't important, not when he can draw Adar down for a loving kiss and run his hands down that body he adores so much. Aemond's knees brush up along elven hips and he arches at the same moment to settle him right against his prostate with a bitten-off hum of satisfaction, knowing Adar well enough now to get his own back and give him the sight he knows he likes most: one very genuinely happy Aemond stuffed with his cock. ]
Love me.
[ In Sindarin, to contrast what he meant the first time. ]
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A hum of pleasure escapes him both from all the touches and the feeling of his husband engulfing his hard cock. He wants him so much sometimes that it worries him. He cannot afford to be as free with Aemond as he could another elf... or a maia. Not because he didn't think Aemond would want it but because if he hurt him he would never forgive himself.]
Is that what you want now? Truly? [He asks in return, leaning down to kiss him softly as his hand supports his hips, holding him in just that spot he had angled himself at without Aemond having to strain the whole time as he thrusts into him, slowly, slowly, but gaining speed as he goes.]
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Moaning as he wraps his arms around Adar and kisses him fiercely, he can barely reply when already used so well and instead digs his nails into his husband's scalp, long dark hair wound about his fingers to keep him close. Every time Adar's cock fills him he muffles a whimper, seeing stars. ]
Love, [ it's too good, Adar knows him too well, ] oh, my love ...
[ He is helpless when they fuck, as much as he enjoys riding Adar sometimes and teasing him, Aemond has a youthful human limit for pleasure and it always gets revved up too easily when he's with the man he loves and trusts, demands turning to begging of Do not stop, I love you, I love you so much. ]
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Though words aren't things Aemond is finding easy to use, he does show his approval in others ways as Adar's hips roll, his cock stretching him with every thrust, pushing as deeply inside of him as he can. He feels so good, hot and tight around Adar's cock which drives into him again and again. Soft sounds of pleasure eminate from him, moans, sighs, a pleased growl once or twice when he feels especially close to losing his carefully maintained control. The sweet I Love You's earn him an extra kiss, but no soft sweet nothings this time.]
I want to feel you come around my cock like you did around my fingers. [He purrs, instead, dragging his teeth over Aemond's strong but delicate throat.] So hard that I cannot help but fill you with my seed until you overflow with it.
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He gasps and groans as a result, body cinching up immediately to flutter tension around that cock from root to tip. The way he nods says he'll come soon, absolutely, but his smirk and the way he digs his nails into Adar's shoulder and arm tell a different story, confident in his own right. ]
You'll give me that seed anyway, love, because you want me full of it. Oh, gods ...
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He hated it.
He also loved it.
It was dark, terrible, degrading and immensely satisfying. He could fuck Aemond until the young man genuinely begged for mercy, if he wished, or he could pretend that going once was more than enough, he could be a sweet and gentle thing.]
Making me come first will not stop me from making you come again, and again until you cannot take any more of me. [Though worded like something of a threat, there is clear love in his voice, and a desperate want to let go.]
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I can take it all.
[ There's so much stubbornness in his own gaze, noses nuzzling before he kisses him soundly, relaxing his legs a little so that Adar can fuck as he needs to. ]
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His head tips back as he closes his eyes and runs his hands down Adar's back, making sure to pet and reassure. Aemond isn't so easily broken, bruises are nothing. He loves being the place Adar buries his body and soul, loyal and adoring in his own reserved, needy ways. Plaintive and tempestuous at times but he thinks Adar loves that in him too.
Husband, Aemond whispers in their languages, kisses finding a marred temple. If anyone ever burned Adar again, Aemond would feed them to Vhagar. You are my heart. ]
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This is no different, in a lot of ways. He wants his own pleasure, like a desperate rutting animal in heat, but he also wants to see Aemond come, to give him all the pleasure he can take and not a drop more regardless of his own needs.
For they are not needs they are demands, orders, perversions pressed into his being with fire and magic and a deep reordering of his body and soul to make him a better pet, more useful, tireless in the pursuit of things he tried not to think about anymore and yet could not avoid.
Adar slows his hips down, a false notion of tiredness showing in his movements and the way he drew near to his husband. Aemond's voice draws him back to the present as his eyes flutter closed at a kiss.]
And you are mine. [He hoped. He tried to be enough, to be good, to be strong, to be sure that this time it really was love and not some perverse thing but sometimes he did wonder if he wasn't just lying to both of them and Sauron had not stolen that ability, too.