The Edges of His Fingers by chrissystriped

The Edges of His Fingers

Read The Edges of His Fingers

It wasn’t really surprising that he’d ended up in a dwarrowdam’s bed, Celebrimbor thought, letting his fingers slide down Narvi’s muscular arm.

He’d always enjoyed the company of the Khazâd, they were refreshingly honest. Some elves thought them rude, but it was just that they had little patience for scheming and backstabbing. If a Khuzd didn’t like you, you’d notice it immediately.

And he’d also soon realised that their physique held a certain attraction to him. Sometimes he’d been close to embarrassing himself, sitting with his hosts in the common baths of Nogrod. The Eldar had always a litheness about them, even those who were muscular — and he’d count himself among those — dwarves were different, compact and sturdy.

Celebrimbor let his hand slide further down and squeezed Narvi’s voluptous buttock. She stretched with a pleased hum, pushing her wonderfully round ass against him.

“Good morning”, she said, her voice husky from sleep. “What a nice way to wake up.”

“Good morning.” Celebrimbor kissed her neck, her beard tickling his nose. “Do you have to be somewhere this morning?”

Narvi chuckled and rolled around, her hand reaching down, broad, calloused fingers wrapping around his cock.

“No, why?” She fluttered her long eyelashes at him. “Any plans?”

Celebrimbor grinned at her, cupping her small, firm breast and circling the nipple with his thumb.

“Lots.”

He bowed forward, sucking her nipple into his mouth and relishing in the sound that came from her lips. He gently pushed her on her back, his hand reaching down to stroke her folds. She was warm, and soft and she arched into his touch. He kissed down her body, tasting salt on her skin.

She was shivering under him, his fingers dipping into wetness. Celebrimbor slid down further, his hands spreading her firm thighs and stopped, his breath costing over her mound, moving the brown hair, a shade darker than her beard, that grew between her legs.

“Celeb”, Narvi groaned and his cock throbbed at the throatiness of her voice.

He breathed in deeply, smelling her aroused scent and bowed forward, licking up her folds before sucking on her clit. Narvi moaned, her fingers gripping his hair. Celebrimbor smiled and slid his fingers inside her, continuing to suck and lick her — her taste making his own arousal grow, he reached down with one hand to stroke himself slowly — until she came, tensing and shuddering and crying out.

Celebrimbor moved up, kissing her slowly. He shivered when Narvi rubbed the sensitive spot behind his ear with her thumb.

“Let me reciprocate?”, she said, her breath still fast.

“Please”, Celebrimbor whispered, moving off her. The difference in their height meant that they had to do some moving around. Narvi’s hands were broad and calloused, and warm as she wrapped one around his arousal. Celebrimbor drew a shuddering breath.

Her beard tickled his skin as she took him in her mouth. He moaned her name, the feeling of it all overwhelming. He knew, he wouldn’t last long. Pleasure rushed up his spine, made his toes curl. Narvi didn’t move back, as he came into her mouth.

 

“So, no regrets?”, Narvi asked later, her fingers drawing patterns on Celebrimbor’s chest.

“Not in the least”, he answered firmly. “Do you?”

“No”, she smiled at him. “I just don’t want this to get weird, when we work together.”

“It won’t. If you don’t want to let people know about us, I can accept that, but if you ask me: I don’t think we need to be cagey about the fact that we took our friendship a step further. Our friends are going to be happy for us and everyone else can keep their opinion to themselves. And to be honest, I’m used to being stared at — for who my grandfather was.”

Narvi chuckled. “Yes, you’ve said that before. Well, some of my male kin will think it very tragic that I cast an eye on an elf, but I don’t care. And if you think it won’t cause problems with your people, I’ll trust your judgement.”

“They’ll stare.” Celebrimbor said, stretching with a groan. “But the Gwaith-i-Mírdain are a tolerant bunch, as you know. They’ll not make trouble. And, as much as I hate to have to get out of bed, I’m supposed to give a lecture in an hour. I probably should be presentable for that.”

“My poor boy.” Narvi laughed and kissed him and Celebrimbor refrained from reminding her that he was hardly a boy — he did not want to think of her mortality.

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Chapter End Notes

Written for the Kings & Kink Challenge.

This is the prompt this fic was inspired by:

"Be kind to her also who is the Mistress of thick buttocks, a glance of kohl blackness, and a stout coynte, and whose fame is spread about for her generosity. Her belly containeth fold upon fold, her navel is filled with musk, and down below it there nestles something that is swollen up, puffed out — awful — stupendous — and excellent. It is white and stout ; whoever frequents its company forgets his other aims and cares." ~ Excerpt from The Book of Exposition: A Collection of 15th-Century Erotica from the Middle East (1900)