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“Do you have to go so soon?” Thranduil was resting on his elbow, as his fingers were drawing a pattern on Bard’s chest.
They spent all night making love and Bard was supposed to leave in the morning, but he found it impossible to disentangle himself form the long white limbs. Now the sun was high up in the sky.
“You know I would stay if I could. But there’s so much to do.”
Thranduil sighed and Bard wondered how he could even find it in him to leave this beautiful creature even for a day. Thranduil continued tracing his long fingers down his chest and it was not making it any easier for him.
“Do you not hate it?” Bard asked. Elven bodies were smooth and hairless, and at first, he wondered if his lover would find his repulsive. Instead, he seemed fascinated by the sparse hair on his chest.
“Not at all,” Thranduil said. “I don’t know. It’s… different.” He shrugged. His palm was now resting flat on Bard’s chest.
“It’s not just that. I like to feel your heartbeat.”
Bard felt both his body and heart responding to the touch. He’d found the elven king quite the insatiable lover but it was a challenge he was ready to meet. Thranduil’s eyes met his and Bard saw the sparkle in them. Bard leaned in, cupping his face and claiming his lips.
“I suppose I can stay another hour,” Bard said. Thranduil responded with a wicked smile. In a moment, he was straddling him, hands on his chest.
Trapped between the king’s strong thighs, Bard was a willing prisoner.