Secrets of a Princess' Boudoir by Rocky41_7

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Secrets of a Princess' Boudoir

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            Galadriel breathed steadily in and out, but it did not calm the racing of her heart; she could hear it pounding against her ribs as if it were some beast trying to break from a cage.

            “It’s meant to feel like that.” Luthien’s playful whisper sounded her ear and a shudder went all through Galadriel’s body and she heard her own breath tremble. Luthien leaned in and Galadriel felt the princess’ lips against her neck. “Is it not thrilling?” Galadriel did not trust her voice to be steady, so she kept silent. Luthien had been kind enough to move the bench away from the vanity before sitting Galadriel down, so she could not see herself in the mirror, for she was sure she was a sight already and she didn’t need to look on that.

            Luthien’s breath was warm against her ear and her shoulder and Galadriel was so focused on that that it was a shock when she felt the princess’ hands on her stomach. They didn’t stay long; they began an upward creep that ended abruptly before touching her breasts and Galadriel almost whined. It didn’t matter that she bit down on it—she heard Luthien’s bubbly giggle and the presence at her back was suddenly gone; Galadriel twisted around in her seat to see Luthien drawing the curtains back.

            “Am I become less appealing than housekeeping?” Galadriel asked.

            “Not in the slightest! I want to see the light on your lovely hair.” Sunlight streamed through the opening of Luthien’s gauzy curtains and she danced barefoot back over, her blue robes billowing out around her. She wound her arms around Galadriel from behind to kiss her cheek and her ear and her jaw. “Now…shall you tell me where to touch you first, or shall I guess?” Luthien did love her games.

            “Make your guesses,” Galadriel allowed.

            “Hm…here?” Luthien stroked her hands up Galadriel’s thighs, her touch seeming to burn right through Galadriel’s skirts. Galadriel said nothing. “Hm. Here?” Luthien squeezed her sides and Galadriel yelped, which made Luthien laugh.

            “Luthien!”

            “I was only checking,” said the princess sweetly, which was an absolute lie, but Galadriel’s huff was shamefully lacking in conviction. It was hard to feel convicted when Luthien was making her stomach so squirmy. “What about here?” She took one of Galadriel’s hands and drew it back and then Galadriel felt the wetness of Luthien’s mouth around her fingers. “Mm?” When this did not result in immediate yowls of pleasure, Luthien released her. “Oh, perhaps I should think of that dress you wore to last night’s party!” Luthien said, as if it had just occurred to her, which was another absolute lie. Her hands were on Galadriel’s ribs again, rapidly rising and falling with her breathing, and Galadriel was sure Luthien could feel or hear or sense, with whatever Maia power she had, the dizzying sprint of Galadriel’s heart.

            “Perhaps here?” Luthien whispered, her fingers creeping up over Galadriel’s breasts. Galadriel was sure Luthien could feel her heart through her flesh and through her clothes.

            “Mm…” Galadriel made a soft noise of affirmation and Luthien’s delicate hands kneaded at her chest, beginning low on the underside and moving up to cup a breast in each hand, squeezing and pressing them together, making them bulge over the neckline of Galadriel’s dress.

            “You did look ravishing, so please—hear no criticism from me!” Luthien assured her, nuzzling Galadriel’s hair out of the way to get at her neck again. “I think my eyes scarcely left you all the night, and I’m quite sure I was not alone.” Galadriel would also guess this to be a lie, but Luthien did seem, at times, to be able to split her attention to multiple things at once. She was an uncanny thing.

            Galadriel leaned back against Luthien. She smelled like cedar and leaf mold and a hint of the river that wound through the forest. Luthien nuzzled her hair and her neck for a few moments before stepping away and moving around to stand in front of her. Luthien’s gray eyes did not glow with the light of Telperion in the way of the Calaquendi, but there was some other kind of ethereal shine in them, something that looked not quite safe. The sort of thing that gave an Elf pause before decisively labeling Luthien one of them. It was breathtaking.

            “Shall we get to know each other better?” Luthien asked, tugging lightly at the laces on the front of Galadriel’s dress. Galadriel wanted to watch her hands, but she could not take her eyes off Luthien’s face and the sharp line of her jaw and the stunning cut of her cheekbones, not to speak of the swell of Luthien’s lower lip, about which she was quite sure poems had been written. Luthien raised her eyes from where she was loosening the front of Galadriel’s dress and a slight frown crossed her face. “You’re rather shaky, starbright,” she said. “Have you changed your mind?”

            Galadriel grabbed the princess by the back of her beautiful head and dragged her in for a kiss, parting her lips at once against Luthien’s, pressing down on a needy sound in her chest. She felt Luthien’s mouth split in a smile before she reciprocated, allowing Galadriel’s tongue to trace the shape of her lips, inside and out.

            “Lost for words? Unusual indeed for Finarfin’s daughter!” Luthien teased when they parted, Galadriel’s breathing coming faster than usual. Galadriel tried to give her a stern look but it appeared to have no effect: Luthien only smiled and pulled her bodice down with a sharp jerk that made Galadriel gasp as the fabric rasped over her stiff nipples and exposed her breasts to Luthien’s attentions.

            “You enjoy teasing far too much,” Galadriel told her. Luthien grinned a sharp-toothed grin.

            “You know me outside of this room,” she said. “Did you really think I would be different inside it? Ah, but I’ve promised you something, and I keep my promises!”

            “Was there a promise?” Galadriel asked. Abruptly her heart made a sincere effort to punch through her chest as Luthien knelt in front of her.

            “I thought there was,” Luthien answered, draping her elbows over Galadriel’s thighs, leaning in to press her soft lips against Galadriel’s sternum. “In any case, I should hate to disappoint you.”

            “Have you…” Galadriel’s breath hitched as Luthien turned her head, tracing the point of her nose against the underside of Galadriel’s right breast. “Have you ever disappointed anyone?” Luthien laughed quietly.

            “Oh, most certainly,” she said agreeably. “And I have no doubt I will continue to do so. But what else can we do?” She tipped her chin up and touched her lips to where her nose had just been. She parted them slightly and Galadriel’s nerves felt like they were crackling as Luthien’s breath blew over her breast, making the nipple pucker. Luthien opened her mouth further and when Galadriel felt the princess’ tongue against her skin she couldn’t stop the trembling moan that burst from her lips, making her flush darkly. Luthien grinned and lifted her eyes to Galadriel’s face, just to observe her blush, before turning her attention back and mouthing over Galadriel’s breast, leaving goosebumps where the air rubbed against patches of skin damp with her saliva. Galadriel gripped the edge of the seat and felt her undershorts growing wetter the more Luthien’s plump pink lips worked over her.

            She was so focused on this that she missed the hand sneaking up on the other side until Luthien’s fingers had Galadriel’s left nipple pinched between them and Galadriel cried out, her body jerking towards Luthien. Luthien closed her mouth around the right nipple, and her fingers twisted at the left and Galadriel could not longer try to stop herself from moaning, arching towards the princess. Luthien’s nails scraped over her left nipple and Galadriel’s plea was on the tip of her tongue when Luthien suddenly drew back. With her mouth flushed red, she smiled her impish smile up at Galadriel, who was quite sure she had not felt quite so frazzled in some time. This was not at all the same as running her hands over her own body in the mirror after a bath. She wondered if it had anything to do with Luthien’s Maia blood.

            “Do you like it when I do this?” Luthien asked, pinching with her nails. Galadriel gasped and squirmed and her stomach twisted in a way that delighted her more than she would have guessed it would. She nodded jerkily, quickly, even though she guessed Luthien already had her answer. “How about this?” Luthien drew her hand back and slapped one breast, though with great restraint. Galadriel knew how strong Luthien really was, demur though she might.

            “Luthien,” Galadriel said, trying so very hard not to whine like a child asking for a treat.

            “Galadriel,” echoed Luthien, digging her nails into Galadriel’s breast, though she had the grace to move over to the right one to even the stinging out. She was wedged firmly between Galadriel’s thighs at this point, and the top half of Galadriel’s dress hung limply around her, baring her from throat to waist. “Is there something which you need from me?”

            This time, Galadriel knew she succeeded in looking cross. But Luthien was still not chastened; she rarely was. Galadriel was not entirely sure anyone but the king and queen could do it (Finrod could not manage it, to his grand annoyance and Galadriel’s private amusement).

            Luthien leaned in and kissed Galadriel gently where she had just pinched her, laving her tongue carefully over the red flesh while her hands busied themselves with a particularly vigorous exploration up Galadriel’s skirts. Luthien’s slender fingers brushed against Galadriel’s belly as she reached blindly for the ties on Galadriel’s undershorts and Galadriel felt her muscles jump in response. Before she could prepare herself, Luthien’s hand was down the front of her shorts, reaching into her damp curls and drawing a noise from Galadriel that she hadn’t known she was really capable of making.

            “Oh, you do enjoy this,” Luthien said approvingly, which made little enough sense to Galadriel. “Can I touch you here?” Luthien asked, and Galadriel felt the princess’ fingers brush over the top of her cut in a way that made her whole body shudder.

            “Yes,” she gasped, and hooked her heels behind Luthien’s back to keep her close. “Yes, Luthien, please!”

            “I should remember you’re a princess too,” Luthien murmured, putting her mouth to Galadriel’s left breast, scraping her teeth over the nipple and down the curve of the breast. Galadriel didn’t even try to stop her hips from jerking towards Luthien’s touch; she felt as if her core had gone molten and she would never know rest again. “One ought not keep a princess waiting.” She switched her hands between Galadriel’s legs so that she could slap Galadriel’s right breast, harder this time, and make her mother’s houseguest cry out and squeeze her thighs against Luthien’s sides. Luthien’s recently freed hand smeared the thick fluid gathering between Galadriel’s legs across her breast, bringing a musky smell with it.

            Luthien pinched some of the tender flesh between her teeth and then sucked, and repeated this around the left breast before moving to the right, switching her hands again to keep a finger circling around that bundle of nerves that was making Galadriel feel like she’d never have a coherent thought again.

            “Luthien,” she begged, although what she was begging for, she didn’t know, only some relief from this, or perhaps for Luthien never to stop; she couldn’t decide. “Oh.”

            “Yes, that’s it,” Luthien encouraged, although Galadriel had no idea what she was talking about. She nipped sharply at Galadriel’s breast, her tongue at once against the irritated flesh, and suddenly Galadriel was trembling and couldn’t stop and she wasn’t breathing anymore and Luthien’s hand was insistent between her legs and her mouth at Galadriel’s breasts and—and—and—

            “Oh!” Galadriel vaguely thought she ought to be quiet, but she was not the one controlling the noises that were coming out of her mouth as she spasmed against Luthien, reaching out for anything she could grab onto and digging her fingers into Luthien’s hair, the nearest source of support. “Oh, oh—oh, Luthien!”

            “Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” Luthien said, but there was laughter in her voice rather than any genuine effort to make Galadriel be quieter. Slowly, Galadriel’s shuddering died down and her heart rate began to slow again. Luthien was placing gentle kisses on her breasts, and she could see faint bruises already starting to appear from the delicious abuse of Luthien’s nails and teeth.

            Blessedly, Luthien did not try to talk to her until she’d caught her breath. She felt like she might just lie down on Luthien’s rug and sleep for a while.

            “How do you feel?” Luthien asked. “Well?”

            “Yes,” said Galadriel, far too measuredly to come off as nonchalant. “Yes. Well. I’m. Very well. But. You still haven’t answered my question.”

            “Oh?” Luthien cocked her head to the side, sitting back on her heels at Galadriel’s feet. “I’ve forgotten. What was the question?”

            “May I borrow your emerald circlet for Daeron’s recital tonight?”