TITLE: Heart and Shoulder (11/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Christening the new house (Orli's POV)
FEEDBACK: To paraphrase Aragorn and Eowyn: "What do you fear, my Lady?" "No
feedback. To stay behind a laptop until use and old age accept no feedback.
And all chance at feedback has gone beyond recall or desire."
DISCLAIMER: I made this all up in my crazy little head. It's FICTION
WARNINGS: Snowballing
ARCHIVE: I'd be honored, just let me know where it's going
AUTHOR'S NOTES: A permanent thank you to my beloved Lostiawen for her support,
insanity, and beta skills
DATE WRITTEN: April 24th, 2004
My dream house is a mess.
Half-unpacked boxes are strewn throughout the rooms, rugs are rolled up in
corners, and artwork is propped up against the walls, waiting to be hung
up. There are innumerable bubble wrap sheets in the living room; they
provided hours of entertainment for our cat, who later got tired and curled
up in a carton marked "Silverware." It all feels wonderfully domestic,
like I actually have a normal adult life instead of merely inhabiting the
fantasy existence of being a film star.
Two days ago, we moved from our old home into this one, and we've spent the
entire time since then unpacking the contents of our life. Henry has
already made sure that his bedroom (he's chosen the third-floor one) is mostly
set up the way he wants it to be, and he's been a big help in arranging the
rest of our miscellaneous boxes. Lij, Sean, and Christine have also
helped a lot, but there's still so much work to do.
There's only one room that's immaculate and already put together: the master
bedroom that Viggo and I share. While we were waiting to move, I became
completely obsessed with making our new bedroom as perfect as it could possibly
be. So I purchased a new, very large bed with a headboard that'll enable
tying each other up during sex. There are pale yellow curtains adorning
the huge windows, a blue rug that covers most of the floor, and a kitschy
green dresser with orange trim; the whole space is a riot of colors that
brightens the large suite and makes it inviting rather than grandiose.
My evening has been dedicated to the task of getting more of the kitchen
in order, but I've had enough of that for one night. Viggo has long
since abandoned the unpacking effort and wandered off somewhere; Henry is
at Exene's for the week while we get the house completely liveable.
Turning out the kitchen lights, I scamper off in search of my boyfriend.
"Hey, Vig?" I call out, starting to climb the stairs.
"I'm in our room," he shouts in response.
"Are you naked?"
"Uh, no. Should I be?"
"Definitely." I stroll towards our room, carelessly pulling off my
tee-shirt as I go. "I'm stripping right now."
"Why am I not surprised?" His raspy chuckle resonates through the hall,
sending a jolt of lust to my groin. "You're always so eager."
"Yeah, like you're not." My trousers drop to the floor, and I manage
to step out of them without falling flat on my face. That's progress!
"We both know you're a pervy bastard, Viggo."
"Ah, well, you must bring it out in me."
I reach our room and drape myself across the doorframe in what I hope is
an alluring manner. "Hey there," I greet him, immediately cursing myself
for not coming up with anything more creative to say. But Viggo doesn't
seem to mind my momentary lack of wit, as he sits up on our bed and smiles
warmly at me.
"Hey there," he echoes.
"I stripped," I say, stating the obvious. Damn, where did my intelligence
go?
"I can see. That certainly makes my job easier."
"Since when is it your job to undress me?" I pout as I walk over to join
him on the bed. "I'm fully capable of doing that on my own."
"I know that, love; it's just that I enjoy undressing you. I love revealing
that beautiful body you have, inch by inch," he tells me.
"Well, you'll get more chances to undress me."
"But tonight is special."
"It is?"
"Yes. It's our first night alone in our new house. Don't you
think that we should celebrate properly?"
My mouth goes dry. "Celebration is definitely in order . . . I don't
think we have any champagne, so we'll have to come up with something else."
"Have any ideas?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with deviousness.
"A few," I say as I straddle him and pull off his shirt.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Oh, a little bit of this . . ." I grind my boxers-clad cock against
his crotch, smiling at the erection that I can feel beneath his jeans.
"And a little bit of this . . ." My teeth nip at his neck, and I revel
in the measurable shudder that passes through his body.
"You're going to kill me," Viggo groans.
"I hope not. You need to be breathing for these activities."
I slide off of his legs and unzip his jeans, pulling them down his hips along
with his boxers. Tossing the rest of his clothes aside, I zero in on
the erection that's jutting out from a base of dark blonde curls. With
a quick wink and lick of my lips, I'm leaning down to take it in my mouth
so I can savor every last inch of the hard, hot shaft.
"Oh, oh fuck!" he gasps, bucking his hips and inadvertently pushing his cock
deeper into my throat. I manage to relax my muscles so I'm taking all
of him in, sucking and licking at his cock while I grind my own erection
against the mattress. Gentle fingers wrap around tendrils of my hair,
forging another connection between our bodies; he doesn't guide my pace,
instead allowing me to set the rhythm, moaning as I slowly move up and down
the steely flesh.
"Is that good?" I murmur as I pull my mouth off of his cock.
"Yes! Don't stop, baby."
"It's okay, I have something else planned," I tease. "I think you'll
like it."
My tongue slithers down below his cock to lap at his balls, feeling how they
tighten under my careful ministrations. There are whimpers from above
and a slight arching of hips, both indications that he needs more than this.
Being a dutiful lover, I continue down to pull apart the perfectly muscled
cheeks of his arse and start licking around the puckered entrance to his
body. A jolt goes through Viggo's whole body, as if he's been struck
by lightning, and he lets out a long, low cry of pleasure.
"Yeah, I know you like that," I chuckle before swiping my tongue over the
taut hole again.
"Fuck, yes," he hisses.
I pull away briefly, but only so I can reach over to our bedside table and
retrieve the lube, which was, of course, one of the first things that we
unpacked. What a horny little duo we are. Viggo bites his lip
and mutters something to himself as I spread the gel over my fingers; clearly
he's even needier than I thought he was. The lube is tossed to the
side, and I slide two fingers inside of him with ease.
He gasps and arches against me. "Orli, please!"
My fingers inch deeper while I curl my free hand around his dripping erection.
"Please what?" Okay, perhaps that's cruel, but I can't help it.
Viggo just sounds too sexy for his own good when he's reduced to begging.
"Please . . ." His plea ends in a choked moan as I press my own hard
cock against his thigh.
"I can feel how close you are," I purr. "Just tell me what you want,
and I'll give it to you."
"You know what I need!"
"Say it," I urge. My hand slides up a bit on his cock, creating a bit
of friction that makes him moan and finally lose his composure.
"Make me come!" he cries out. "Please!"
"That's more like it," I say with a smile, beginning to pump my fingers in
and out of his tight opening. I'm rewarded with the loud cries of ecstasy
that Viggo's been holding in for so long, and I add a third finger to stretch
him further. The angle of my fingers changes just a tiny bit in an
effort to hit that bundle of nerves that makes all the difference, and when
there's a hoarse yell, I know that I've achieved my goal.
Viggo undulates on the mattress, corkscrewing against my fingers as he tries
to get the maximum effect out of the finger-banging that I'm giving him.
My hand starts wanking him with a steady pace, now determined to bring him
to his climax after all the torturous waiting I've put him through.
The erection twitches in my fist, as if signaling to me that it's about to
reach its release point, and I simply stroke faster. At the same time,
I lean down and start licking at Viggo's hole while my fingers are busy plunging
into it.
It's too much for him. I can feel him arch as hot liquid spills over
my hand and his arse quivers around my fingers. There are moans and
gasps that I can hear in the background, but it's difficult for me to determine
which ones are mine, and which are his. With some reluctance, I pull
myself away from his tasty manflesh and look at him with what must be an
idiotic grin on my face.
"So, did you enjoy that?"
"What do you think?" he drawls lazily, a smirk on his face. "Hey, did
we unpack the wet-naps?"
"I think so. Why?"
"Because your hand could really use one right now."
I look down at my come-coated palm and giggle, still a bit high on Viggo-Lust.
Viggo proves what a good boyfriend he is by fetching the wet-naps and handing
me one, and soon I'm all clean again. When I look down at my hand,
I catch sight of my erection standing flush against my stomach and leaking
precome, reminding me suddenly of how aroused I am.
"Uh, what should we do now?" I ask Viggo, willing to do anything as long
as it involves me getting off.
"Well, I'd really like it if you fucked me," he says in that voice of sin
which makes my toes curl.
"Yeah?" I smile slowly, noticing that his legs are still spread wide
from our previous activities. "I suppose that could be arranged."
"Good. The lube is right next to you." He points to where the
small tube sits, and I pick it up immediately, smearing its contents over
my cock with unusual speed. "Someone's eager," he teases.
"Shut up. Unlike some people, *I* haven't come yet," I remind him.
"My poor love pig," Viggo laughs.
I sigh with exasperation. "You're impossible."
His legs come to wrap around my waist once I'm all lubed up. "I'm sorry.
I promise I'll make up for it by being terrific in bed."
"You're always terrific in bed."
"I'm just saying that I'll–"
"Viggo? Be quiet so I can fuck you senseless."
"Oh. Okay." Honestly, sometimes it is impossible to make that
man stop talking. Thank God that sex is an effective tool in silencing
him.
With one quick stroke, I bury myself inside of his hot depths, crying out
as I feel my need for him being fulfilled. My cry is echoed by Viggo's
throaty moan, which reverberates off the walls of the bedroom and spurs me
to start moving at once. The first hard thrust draws another moan from
him, followed by the clenching of his muscles around my cock. He then
practically turns himself into a human pretzel as his legs tighten around
my waist and his hands slide down to grip my arse.
So tight. He always manages to be so tight somehow, and I could care
less how he accomplishes that feat. The sensation of his body gripping
me, pulling me deeper into his silken heat, is one that makes my toes curl
and my eyes roll back in my head. I wasn't joking when I said that
he was always terrific in bed. There's no mindless shagging when Viggo's
involved; he goes about making love with the single-minded dedication that
he devotes to everything else, and the results are downright combustible.
"More," he pleads, shoving his hips back up to meet my slow but sharp thrusts.
It's impossible not to give in to him, especially when his hands are now
roaming over my back, caressing my skin with a gentleness that belies the
intensity I know he's seeking from me. I relent, slamming forward and
groaning loudly at the shockwave of pleasure that surges through me.
The fingers that were just stroking my back are now digging into my skin,
nails doubtlessly making little patterns of crescents along my spine.
"More like this?" I ask as I thrust again.
"Yes!" he cries, his voice breathless.
I maneuver his legs so they're on top of my shoulders, then kiss the inside
of his calf. My thrusts resume with renewed vigor, the angle shifting
slightly so I can find his prostate. I know that I've hit the right
spot when he spasms and twists, his walls contracting around me as he lets
out a hoarse cry. "Fuck, again!" he gasps.
Over and over, I slide into him with the goal of hitting that one spot.
Each time, the reward I get is a moan, wail, or scream that makes me thrust
even harder. One of his hands is stroking himself more or less in rhythm
with our lovemaking, and I can tell that the onset of his climax isn't far
away by the way his whole body is starting to tremble. As for my own
release, it's been delayed for so long that I feel I can barely hold out
any longer; the unmistakable smell of sex, the sound of skin hitting skin,
and the look of uncontrolled passion and surrender in Viggo's eyes all threaten
to overwhelm me at any second.
Seeing that I'm on the brink, Viggo manages a small, shaky smile. "Let
go," he urges. His hips roll upwards, producing a sinuous undulation
that proves to be my undoing. The sight of him splayed out like that,
moving gracefully under me, is too much; with a final push into him, I wail
without shame as what feels like the most incredible orgasm ever washes over
me. Let it be said, of course, that pretty much *every* orgasm with
Viggo feels like it's the best one I've ever experienced. That's the
kind of team we make.
I can feel Viggo's body shake as I spill my seed into him, his moans growing
louder as his own release approaches. Wanting to push him over the
edge, I compose myself so I can pull out of him, paying no heed to his slight
whine of discontent, then slide down to take his cock in my mouth for the
second time tonight. His pulse is vibrant on my tongue as I suck him
with every skill I possess, licking along the thick vein on the underside
before I probe the slit and lap up the mass of slick precome that's been
waiting for me.
Unable to withstand the assault, he comes with a primal yell. I gratefully
welcome the thick liquid that flows into my mouth, refusing to swallow it
and instead keeping it stored for another purpose. When I hear him
whimpering as his cock softens, I draw back and try to grin without choking
on my mouthful. This is always fun.
Oblivious to what I have planned, my lover lies sated and still looking delicious
amongst the pillows. I lean down and press our mouths together, offering
him what he gave me just moments earlier, then push my tongue past his lips
and savor his moan of surprise. This isn't something we do a lot, but
it's a nice treat every once in a while, and Viggo himself said that tonight
was special. If you can't celebrate with snowballing, how else can
you celebrate?
"Well," Viggo chuckles, after swallowing my gift, "I think you outdid yourself."
"Yeah?" I grin and settle down next to him, not really caring if I
sound cocky right now. "I guess four years of practice helps."
"You'll be even better after twenty years of practice," he teases.
"Sod off! Are you implying that you're more talented than I am?"
"Not at all. It was just a casual observation."
"You are such a lousy liar, Viggo," I huff. "Who made you come twice
tonight?"
"Um, you did."
"Ipso facto, I am very talented."
"Did you just say 'ipso facto' in a post-coital discussion?"
"Sod off," I say again.
"Oh, I think you want me to stay here," he coos. "We still have lots
of fun planned for tonight."
"We do?"
"Yes. We just christened our new bedroom, but that's only the beginning."
"The beginning of what?"
"Think of all the rooms in this house that we could have sex in," Viggo murmurs,
dropping small kisses along my neck. "There's the kitchen, the studio,
the living room, the family room, the porch, the guest rooms . . ."
"All for tonight?" I squeak.
"Are you up for it?" The challenge is clear in his voice.
I glance down at my cock, which is starting to stir again. "Yeah, I
think I'm up for it."
Heart
and Shoulder Part 12
More
Viggorli
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