[closed to Feanor]: so in love with you am I

[ma_feanorian]

It's like being newly in love all over again - like being newlyweds all over again. Her cheeks feel hot, and she can feel her blood warming. She gives him a playful little shove at the same time as she tilts her head to grant him better access. "Mmmm," she says, a little more huskily, and curves her body to fit against his, the feeling as natural

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[i_hate_valar]

Feanor smiles, makes a happy little growling sounds as he nuzzles behind her ear, his hands trailing down her back. "Hmmmm, it's all your fault, woman," he murmurs, sensually, like a big, large cat who is already deep into his rut.

If I ever animalify him, this is what Fea's getting. >.>

[i_hate_valar]

So perhaps they make it to their rooms? And the door will be opened fumblingly (typist is surprised to note that this is an actual adverb) and Nerdanel will be deposited on the bed.

Feanor takes a moment to look at her, towering.

"And you," he murmurs, "are beautiful."

[ma_feanorian]

Typist is glad this is an actual adverb, and Nerdanel is deposited. And flushed and mussed on the bed, looking up at him with a slightly dazed smile, of the best kind.

"You're not so bad to look at yourself," she teases.

[i_hate_valar]

Feanor pauses, just looks at her, a little while longer. "Let me," he says, quieter, as his hands reach for the fastenings of her dress.

[ma_feanorian]

She pulls her hands away and cradles his face a moment, murmurs, "Of course," her voice also lowering, though a smile still curves her mouth, lights her eyes.

[i_hate_valar]

Feanor's hands tug at the laces, tug at the dress, gently enough. His hands are dexterous, playing a game at which he has been an expert for too long a time.

He'll be kissing her throughout, like breathing.

[ma_feanorian]

Her back arches, she moves to writhe against him gently, her hands whispering into his hair, running through it, toying with it.

She loves this. She loves him, loves being with him. All the ages that separated them diminish in the face of being together again.

[i_hate_valar]

Feanor makes a soft noise in the kiss when his hands find skin - and he tugs, peels the dress off his wife slowly, almost tauntingly.

[ma_feanorian]

"Feanaro," she breathes, almost a scolding, but not quite, too affectionate and full of love to be that. Her fingers clench and unclench in his hair, tugging his head down to kiss him more thoroughly, her tongue brushing against his, perhaps.

[i_hate_valar]

He's tugged and kissing, and moans a little into the kiss. Feanor's hips come go grind against Nerdanel's, wanting, demanding.

[ma_feanorian]

And her hips buck into his, encouraging the grinding, encouraging his desire and responding with her own. "Don't you think - you could remove this dress a bit more quickly?" She enquires, flushed brightly.

[i_hate_valar]

"In my own time," he groans. Feanor's busy being incoherent, Nerdanel, did you notice?

[ma_feanorian]

Yes, she has noticed, and she wants more, please. Incoherence aside. She makes a little noise in her throat, her hands moving to his shoulders and kneading like a cat.

[i_hate_valar]

His hands are still working at the dress, and Feanor feels his pants getting more and more (and more) uncomfortable.

He shifts, finally frees her breasts, and goes on to suckle at one of them hungrily.

[ma_feanorian]

"Oh," says Nerdanel, quite audibly, going a little bit limp. That feels - very nice. Very very nice, and she forgot how his mouth on her breast seems to send bolts of pleasure directly from breast to groin, and -

She makes a low, heady noise.

[i_hate_valar]

That makes him smirk against her flesh, satisfied. Meanwhile, Feanor allows himself to fondle the unattended breast, thumb running over her nipple.