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Smut-Takes (and Other Outtakes Too)

Chapter 12: You’ve Gotta Stay Hungry

Summary:

Írissë and Tyelko continue their fun, sexy romp in Finno’s rooms while he’s off having a fun, sexy romp with Maitimo for his 200th birthday. This time, Írissë tops all the way…until she doesn’t.

Notes:

Once again, I’m cribbing from Bruce Springsteen lyrics for the title. This one’s from “Dancing in the Dark.”

Also, I want to thank starlightwalking for their work, which very much inspired my take on the Aretyel dynamic in this series.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Years ago, when Tyelkormo had first lured her to the woods and seduced there, Írissë would have struggled to hold him down, even with his blade in her hand and his arousal clouding his mind and slowing his reflexes. However, she had almost three decades of experience grappling with her fearsomely strong bedmate, and she had grown far stronger too, for she had long ridden on the hunts with him. She had even, on more than one occasion, even followed him on his strange, terrifying rides in Oromë’s train when they rode deep into the Pélori Mountains and slew corrupted beasts that sloughed out of Avathar.

Furthermore, Írissë was over one-hundred years old and had grown fierce and powerful in her own right. So, even as her desire pulsed between her thighs and dripped from her core, she got the better of her half-cousin and bound him so tightly to her brother’s ridiculously ornate bed so that he was left entirely at her mercy.

She allowed herself only a few short moments to admire her handiwork, but what glorious moments those were! She had caught him by the wrists and ankles, causing his thick calves and forearms to strain delectably against his bonds. That sight made her mouth water and her fingertips itch to trace every curve and muscle of his mighty hröa. But that would have to wait, for she had much more delightful plans laid out.

To keep him well and truly tied, she had even placed a rope over his neck. It was not tight enough to choke him, unless he struggled overmuch, but if he did…

Well, we both like him breathless, she thought with a wild, wicked grin. She did not stop herself from running her left forefinger over the column of his throat, nor did she resist the urge to lean down and nip at it as she slipped a finger through the tie that held him fast and tugged ever so slightly. He gasped and strained, and Írissë’s thighs clenched in heady anticipation. The sights and sounds had her feeling almost as desperate for air as he was, so she moved quickly. She knew that if she tarried too long, he would grow bored and claim her again.

Not that that would be entirely unwelcome…and yet…

“I think,” she purred as she straddled his chest and ran the tip of his knife along the horns that topped his rounded pectorals, “that you may have underestimated me, fair onóro. You rather seem to have mistaken me for a helpless wendë.”

“Oh, doubtless,” Tyelko agreed. He grinned back at her with equal ferocity. His light gray eyes were turned tumultuous with lust, and not a hint of fear darkened them. Írissë laughed huskily and moved away from him.

“Do not rest easy while I am gone from your side,” she warned as she went to get one of her favorite aids. “I intend to have vengeance for my lost maidenhead.”

To explain her point further, she held up the double-sided phallus that she had bought on one of her trips to Alqualondë with Nerwen.

He licked his lips and still refused to show her fear, but that was all well, for now she was aching to take him and fuck herself while she plundered his fine, deliciously sculpted arse.

***
Írissë was sopping wet from the lingering feel of his mouth on her cunt, lapping at her pearl; from the tight squeeze of his hole around her fingers; and the wide stretch of her end of the cock inside her.

But the bulk of the arousal building within her belly came from the sight of Tyelko lying beneath her, straining and arching to meet her first, slow, but deliberate press into him. She had undone his ankle bonds as soon as she had stretched him to her satisfaction, and she was using the bulk of her considerable strength to keep his legs bent back until his strong, shaking thighs were pressed against his chest, and his arse was elevated enough for a proper fucking.

“I would say,” she managed to moan as she dug her nails Into the back of his thighs, “that it is a crying shame that we do not have another nér here to fuck your while you fill my cunt up again, but…” She paused halfway in and grabbed his thick, throbbing erection at the base and stroked it roughly. He rewarded her with a low, decadent moan that shot straight to her quivering core, and she laughed throatily.

“But I think that I like to have you all to myself and I think,” she added as she sheathed her fake cock inside of him and moved her hand from his girthy erection to his even broader leg, “that you prefer it this way.” He grunted and ground his hips against her until his stones rubbed against her arse and he forced her end of the toy so deep inside of her that she screamed.

“Ai! No!” she cried as she trembled on the brink of her orgasm. “No, no, no, you are at my mercy now, and I swear to be less careful than any nér who has ever taken you here. I will strive to be even less careful than you are when you take them.”

Tyelko responded by slamming back against her so hard that the ropes caught him by the throat and made him pant so deliciously that Írissë fell over the edge faster than she anticipated, trembling and thrusting against him and around the thing inside of her until the last vestiges of her climax faded, and she found her limbs shaking madly as she stared down him.

“Tell me, Tyelko,” she said, ignoring the tender, overstimulated feeling that made her whine and clench every time that she bucked against his arse and felt the toy rub cruelly, tauntingly against her clitoris. “Do you think that all of your hánor enjoy this so much? Do you think that Ñandellien and Valdawen and even Angainiel do this for their verur? Or is it just you? Are you just specially debauched and deprived?”

Tyelko trembled dangerously beneath her. His shoulders flexed under her scorching gaze, and the snakelike tattoos around his arms seemed to move in the reddish gold lamplight as he fought his bonds and slowly but surely succumbed to them.

Within minutes, he was lying limply beneath her. She could see the drops of sweat sliding down his chest. She could feel the perspiration gathering beneath his knees and down his stones. She felt that she could focus on nothing else besides the stricken, open-mouthed gaze that he gave her as he fought the urge to beg her.

Írissë would have insisted on a more complete surrender had every brutal thrust inside of him had not pushed the toy deep inside of her at just the right angle to make her see stars behind her eyes and had he not been moaning so deeply and needily.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she swore as she gripped his legs. She could feel her second climax building deep inside of her, and she could feel his coming too. She could not quite feel the tight squeeze of his arse around her toy, but by all of the Valar on Taniqetal, she could see it. She could see her strong, gorgeous, dangerous half-cousin—the one who was divinely touched and more than half wild—trembling like a wendë in some salacious Falmarin novel beneath her, and she could see how his tender, stuffed little hole fluttered around her. Through all of that, he somehow still managed to drive her mad, angling his hips so that the toy rubbed against her pearl and her singing spot.

She was panting. He was panting. Her core was clenching, and his abdominals were tightening dangerously. His thighs quivered, and the walls of her cunt trembled until, at last, she took mercy on them both and took his cock and her clit in hand, stroking them both furiously until they orgasmed together with a blinding crash.
***
“Do you think,” Tyelko asked once he had her ankles and knees tied to her wrists and elbows and his face buried between her thighs, “that you will have these sheets cleaned? Or should we leave a surprise for your dear háno?”

Írissë howled in frustration and cursed every Maia in Oromë’s train that she was trussed up like a slain doe and entirely unable to make Tyelko put his tongue back in between her folds.

“This is the third time that you have brought me to the edge and denied me to ask me some stupid question about my stupid háno,” she wailed.

Tyelko laughed and bent down. Írissë trembled in sweet anticipation and then screamed again when he only sucked one of her lower lips in between his. Worse still, he tested her all the more cruelly, baring his teeth just enough to bring her close and deny her again.

“Really, Írissë,” he said amiably as he lifted his head again. She was sobbing and ready to do anything that he asked when he continued.

“I just want a few answers. Do you intend to be kind to Finno for giving you his rooms, or do you intend to punish him for being such an infatuated fool over Nelyo? I could make compelling arguments for pursuing both courses of action. Which do you think he deserves more?”

“Either! Whichever makes you let me go faster!” she insisted. She knew that the mentions of her brother and his lover should have dampened her arousal, but Tyelko had riled her up so thoroughly that his words hardly constituted a drop of water on the raging fire within her.

“Ai! Írissë, your indecisiveness disappoints me,” he said, his eyes glinting dangerously as he rose up onto his haunches and stared down her denied, overstimulated form.

“Fuck you, Tyelko!” she swore.

“Already done, and it is not your turn to do the fucking,” he said. Before she could protest, he claimed her mouth in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. She could taste her own juices on his lips and his tongue, and she moaned angrily as she tried and failed to get any of the stimulation that she needed so badly.

***
When Tyelko finally deigned to stop edging her, the orgasm that he gave her was so mind-numbing and earth-shattering that she ended up lying on the bed, boneless and trembling and entirely unable to withstand one more second of pleasure. She was so overcome that even after he untied her, she offered no resistance when he straddled her torso and stroked himself off until he spilled onto her tongue.

Then, once he was quite certain that she was well and truly satisfied, he snuck out of her brother’s chambers and her father’s mansion, leaving her to fall asleep.

***

By the time Írissë awoke, she was so grateful for Finno’s boon to her that she strippped his bed and sent his linens to the laundry herself. Blessedly, the wendë in charge of the cleaning was one of Írissë’s closest companions and asked no questions when Írissë showed up dressed in a pair of her brother’s leggings and one of his tunics to wash his sheets.

It was only several hours later, when a glowering Finno greeted her as she was remaking his bed, that she remembered that she had forgotten to let him back into his wing of the mansion through his private entrance.

Notes:

So, what did you all think? I hope that you enjoyed it! Next up, we’ve either got spanking or tender sex, depending on which one I want to write more.