Wait a little longer, I “Beg” you… for an update on “Touch the Darkness” 🔥
But until the full chapter posted, here is snippet from our favorite King and Queen… as she helps him fit his newest armor in the forge 👀
Saurondriel | Explicit | 4.1K Chapter
…The slinking sound of chainmail filled the room as piece by piece Sauron clad himself. He was long overdue for a new set of armor, just for him and of his own design. The age of merciless spikes had closed behind him, now, he let the golden light swirl among the darkness, touching it, illuminating it. Transforming it.
His fingers lovingly caressed the golden swirls among the black metal, beginning to buckle his greaves. They fit perfectly to the lines of his shins. And each piece he buckled around his legs the same empowering, emboldening magic. Standing, he relished the ripple of metal over his skin, then through the links across his back, he felt the tender brush of hands. Her hands. Turning, Galadriel’s face lit in that very small, very gentle smirk. “Such elegant trappings, my lord,” she purred as he shifted the armor about him, his height bearing down upon her. Her hand deftly took the black and gold vambraces from his grip. Her touch sparked fire in his blood, even through the light mithril of his chainmail. Her fingers danced as they wrapped the black metal over his forearm, and she could feel the heat of his gaze, watching her every movement, clenching tendons beneath every stroke and brush. Buckle after buckle snapped easily into place, first left, then right arms. Delicately, she traced the golden waves and swirls that crested over the armor. And, silently she worked, the blue depths of her eyes darting frequently to meet his own, her smirk pasted in place as she watched his desire, his hunger growing with each piece she helped strap to his body.
With a curling grin, Celebrimbor crossed over to them, growing used to their constant burning for one another. That passion, that heat reminded him of the old days with Thingol and Melian, of Beren and Luthìen… those loves for the ages to recall in song. The breastplate he bore between his hands shined brighter than the rest, the flourishes of gold sweeping to the center, and there in the middle of his chest laid the outline of an unblinking eye. Galadriel took the plates in her own hands, lifting it high enough to reach over Sauron’s towering shoulders. And Sauron laughed that pointed, staccato chuckle aloud at the sight of her craning on the tips of her toes to finish dressing him.
A deep throated sigh, she ran her hands to the last few buckles atop his shoulders, her pace deliberately slow, her eyes averted as she slipped the last claps together beneath his armpit. Every press of her hands over the open spaces of the armor sent unbidden shivers of arousal through his core. That coy, delighted smirk that she refused to make while looking at him directly proved every contact was deliberate.
“Such a curious choice of design,” she breathed, just loud enough for his ears alone. “I miss the crimson scales of your magnificent armor from our first ride into battle together,” then her eyes flashed up, bright with her burning desire.
“Yes but this,” he swallowed, his breath hitching at the ball of heat she had sparked behind the cooling metal, “this design means so much more. It is the union, our union, of light and power, an eye always watching our enemies. A gaze of strength and protection to leave them trembling, should they dare approach my kingdom, my queen…” his bare hand reached for the swell of her belly. “… and our heir.”
