Black and Gold by polutropos

Chapter 1

Artanis’ hands have sutured a hundred wounds and notched a hundred arrows since the last time they were used to give pleasure.

Lúthien’s chin is tilted towards the stars and set against a swollen Moon cresting behind her. Shallow breaths settle as a fine mist in the cool air, shimmering white. With each trembling inhalation, the two perfect mounds of her breasts rise, dark nipples peaked and chafing against sheer, silver-threaded silk. A pulse quickens under the satin-smooth brown skin stretched taut over her neck.

Artanis’ own need is quivering, her mouth parched, as she drags the pads of her fingers up Lúthien's thigh and hovers her palm above the heat between them. This draws a note of longing from Lúthien’s lips and Artanis presses her fingertips against her where she is warm and open.

“Will you sing for me, lady?” Artanis whispers as she slides Lúthien’s skirts up and traces the curve of her stomach with damp kisses.

A moan is shaped into a song – sweet, pleading words stirring images in her mind of their bodies wound together, a tapestry of black and gold. Artanis surrenders, lowering herself over her and claiming the song and its promise for herself.