Disclaimer: Not mine, merely borrowed.
A pair of related drabbles for the birthday girls ribby and foxrafer.
For ribby: Rich
I had imagined his touch would be rough, purposeful, hungry, and so it was, that first time.
Ah, but the second time…
The second time, he lay me down in the moonlight, under the willow tree, the moss soft beneath me. With velvet lips he trailed kisses down my belly and thighs and lower, lower; his fingers etching my skin with the barest of caresses.
Please, I whispered, scarcely able to breathe, begging for I knew not what.
Aragorn, he murmured, his voice rich like milk and honey, like silk, and I felt as though I had come home at last.
For foxrafer: Fair
The morning brought a fair breeze from the South, warm and damp and full of promise.
“It feels like Spring!” Pippin burbled; Boromir raised his head, his gaze far away. What doom would that longed-for Spring bring to us all?
Yet throughout the day birds sang, and the hopeful sun warmed our faces; we felt almost gay. I was glad of it, for each time I chanced to look in his direction, I could feel a slow flush rising as I remembered his soft breath on my heated skin, the touch of his hands, the taste of his mouth.