Chapter Text
Harder . When it came to your past lovers, there always seemed to be something lacking when it came to more intimate activities . It was not that your past lovers were awful , but they never seemed to get you to the finish line, so you began handing out fake trophies .
It was hard to explain your desires. It was not that your previous lovers treated you poorly in or out of the bedroom; they treated you as if you were a fragile flower in and out of the bedroom, and that was the issue .
It was not an issue outside the bedroom: you loved being doted upon, having your every wish and command acted upon without question . Yet, when it came to inside the sheets -- you preferred it hard . It was simple, the easiest thing to grasp in your mind, but your previous lovers seemed to absorb the information as well as glass absorbs water; it doesn't.
It appeared hopeless until you had met Thorin .
The journey to the Misty Mountains had been treacherous . One that had left all members littered with new bumps and bruises, as well as new scars that littered their bodies alongside bruised, potentially even fractured , bones.
Throughout the journey, the company of dwarves experienced several hard struggles. Ones that took them many hours, if not days, to resolve; their nights often spent pondering as they gazed upon the stars. Yet, the stars held no answers regarding the hardest hassle they had dealt with: convincing you to accept aid.
It was not if you were neglecting yourself; you accepted food and medical aid when needed, yet you refused items the company of dwarves attempted to gift you -- such as new clothes and boots. You had been perfectly fine repairing your clothes when you had a moment. After all, the cloak you journeyed with had covered any tears within your outfit, so it was not as if the world could see the flesh the cloth once shielded.
You reminded yourself that you had to travel light: extra luggage meant extra weight, which meant extra aches and pains from lugging around said weight all day. Yet, there had been the odd occasion upon your travels where an item had caught your eye.
You had managed to stay strong until you passed it . The most beautiful pair of boots you had yet to see, in a color you adored and a style you knew was comfortable for travel: they looked perfect . You could not help but approach the stall, making small talk with the woman who ran it as you examined the boots from afar; they even appeared to be your size!
It appeared to be too good to be true, and that it was. You had been a few coins short of purchasing them, and attempting to barter the boots down to what you had was out of the question -- you needed the coins to pay for your next meal .
"How much?" The dwarven king asked from beside you, his sharp sapphire gaze glued upon the same boots. The suddenness of his deep voice startled you as you were quick to look at him, as he stood there with his arms crossed at his chest, leaning back slightly, a stance he often did while in thought.
"How much for the boots?" The dwarf repeated the question in a low and serious tone as his gaze rose from the boots to the seller. The seller calmly restated the price for the item in question, earning an amused "That's all?" from the dwarven king as he handed over the payment without hesitation.
Yet, the boots did not remain in the dwarven king's hands for long, as they quickly fell into your grasp as he thrust them into your arms.
"Hurry up." The command left his thin lips in a low tone as the heat of his gaze examined your body from head to toe. "We need to find a tailor; you're practically in rags ." The words became distant, accompanied by the tap of his boots against the creaking wooden dock. A creaking almost as hard as when the frame of your bed shakes as he pleasures you.
The sharp thump of the bedframe bouncing against the wall danced throughout the air, accompanied by the melody of your moans as the dwarven king continued to drive his hips into yours. Each inch of his hardness pounded into you, the squelching click of skin slapping against one another growing as loud in the air as the bedframe against the wall.
His hands would tightly grasp upon your legs, your legs spread upon his shoulders, new boots upon your feet as they bounced slightly against his back with every hard thrust of the king's hips. His gaze upon you would be lustful as a smirk spread upon his thin lips.
"That's it." He'd breathe, his breath caressing your face as he leaned down, pushing you further into the bed and pushing further into you, allowing every inch of his cock to have a chance inside of you before sliding out. "Give me every inch of you. Show me why I spoil you." He'd purr, lips hovering a breath above yours as his eyes remained locked onto yours.
His harsh gaze would urge you further into submission, to give into the hardness of his thrusts and the hardness of his cock.
A hardness that left you utterly entranced: how it stretched your inner walls perfectly, carving itself deep into your center as the rhythmic pulsations of his lust lulled you closer to the brink of release.
The dwarven king was far harder in many ways compared to your past lovers, yet it was a hardness you craved .