#threesomesmut

“Oh, yeah, right there babe!” she cried as she got her neck nibbled on, at the same time she was getting fingered into oblivion. 

Peeta stood there and just watched for a minute as a head of blond, slicked-back, ashen waves, belonging to the man who was kissing and fingering Katniss, traveled lower, pulling one of the little ties of her dress’s shoulder straps undone with his teeth so he could kiss the skin at her collarbone and the rounded tops of her breasts. There was a nice high blush settling over her chest. Her thighs were trembling already, which meant she was close. Peeta wondered how long they had been at it.

 He surveyed the rest of the kitchen quickly. There were remnants of a meal cooked and already plated, probably tucked away in the warming tray under the oven. Katniss' black little high heels lay discarded on the floor, one near the kitchen island, and one near the fridge right next to the leg of the gray sweatpants the blond guy had on. 

Peeta took him in for a moment. He was average height, but stocky and well-built. His shoulders and arms were well-developed and could be seen straining through the fabric of the comfortable white t-shirt he was wearing.  His waist was trim, and he had a decent looking ass for a guy. Peeta wondered for a minute if his ass was as nicely rounded and firm as the other man's.  

“Looks like you started without me,” Peeta announced loudly, interrupting them. 

Katniss’ pretty gray eyes opened and took in the sight of Peeta standing in the doorway. They flashed like something hot, the look shooting right through him. 

“You’re late,” Katniss replied, a hint of annoyance showing through in her voice. 

“Really late,” his brother Piers added as he looked at Peeta over his shoulder, right before turning around and lowering his mouth to Katniss’ chest, nosing down the front of her dress slowly to expose more of her. 

“It's Valentine’s Day. The bakery was swamped,” Peeta said in explanation, his eyes glued to the swath of tantalizing golden skin that was being revealed inch-by-inch as his brother continued his exploration of their girlfriend’s beautiful body. The other tie came undone underneath Piers’ fingers, and Peeta swore when he realized what was under her red dress. 

She wasn’t even wearing a bra, for goodness sake. Katniss didn’t respond to Peeta’s excuse, instead she just let out a low moan as Piers’ tongue darted out to tease her already hard nipple. Then, a second later, Piers ripped off her tiny, red lacy underwear and threw them in Peeta’s direction. 

Peeta felt a rush of blood travel through him, as he caught the underwear in hand. He didn’t feel embarrassed when he brought them up to his face to inhale his girlfriend’s scent. She smelled delicious, and she was very wet judging by the state of her panties, and the little sounds she was letting out as Piers worked her into a frenzy. The sight and the smell of her got him hard fast. 

 Even after all these months it was still shocking the way his body reacted to seeing his brother’s hands and mouth on the woman he loved. Instead of jealousy, he felt his heart pick up and start racing. His eyes widened to take in the sight of Katniss being turned on, and getting off to his twin brother’s ministrations. Just a minute later, Katniss was shaking and panting as her first orgasm of the night rushed through her. 

“Fuck, you guys couldn’t wait 20 minutes?” Peeta asked, in a voice that betrayed how hot and bothered he was. Usually he liked to be the one to make Katniss come first with his hand, Piers usually liked to use his mouth on her.  Peeta knew they were doing this on purpose. 

“You couldn’t have Antonio close up? Like you said you would? He doesn’t even have a date for Valentines!” Katniss finally spoke up as she gripped the back of Piers' neck and held his face securely to her breast. She began to rock her hips against his hand, shamelessly wringing out a few aftershocks. 

The sight was so erotic, and her voice was so gruff with arousal and anger that Peeta began to peel away his clothes. His aching cock was straining hard against the material of his slacks and begged for release. 

“He found one last minute, so I told him I’d close,” Peeta mumbled as he unbuttoned his shirt. He fumbled with a few buttons when Piers switched his mouth to Katniss’ other breast and she cried out sharply, throwing her head back against the fridge in ecstasy. 

Piers’ chuckled a second later. “Bro, how many times do I have to tell you? You are too nice for your own damn good,” Piers added before going back to licking and sucking on Katniss’ perfect tits. 

Peeta couldn’t help but agree internally, but outwardly he simply groaned. Watching Katniss and Piers was a certain form of torture. He wanted nothing more than to shuck his clothes and join them in their sexy foreplay. 

But Katniss fixed him with a stare that had him stopping in his tracks. 

“Just watch for now Peeta. No touching. That’s your punishment for making me and Piers’ wait for you on our first Valentine’s day together,” she ordered, and even though it chapped his hide to not be able to close the distance and suck one of her beautiful breasts into his mouth, or join his finger alongside his brother’s and plunge into her tight, wet heat, Peeta made himself hold back. 

He looked back at Katniss with a displeased expression, but nodded. Instead of touching her, he settled for unzipping his slacks and pulling out his already rock hard shaft. He made a few lazy passes over the length, and twisted his wrist slightly before closing his hand around the head of his already weeping cock. Katniss watched him with lust-hooded eyes and licked her lips deliberately. 

“You’re doing that on purpose,” Peeta hissed out as he stroked himself slightly faster. 

“Ohhh--mmm!” Katniss moaned as she started to rotate her hips and grind down onto Piers’ hand, which elicited another tortured groan from Peeta. Nothing got him off faster than watching Katniss build higher and higher until she finally came. 

“I love it when you make him lose control, Sweetheart,” Piers murmured as he added another finger and began to tweak Katniss’ nipple with his other hand. Piers returned his mouth to Katniss’ breast, and a moment later, she started arching her back and panting his name, all while locking gazes with Peeta as he pumped his cock in hand. 

Peeta tried to sync up his rhythm with Katniss and Piers, and when he finally got it down, Katniss was calling his name too as she writhed against the door of the fridge while Piers held her up. 

“Please, I want you inside me! Piers, fuck me from behind!” Katniss wailed, her eyes scrunching tightly closed and her whole body tensing. Piers wasted no time spinning Katniss around and lowering the waistband of his gray sweatpants to let his hardened dick spring free. In one smooth fluid motion, he spread Katniss’ legs and plunged into her, eliciting a strangled cry on her behalf that was so suffused with pleasure Peeta felt a shooting spark of heat travel down his spine, in what he knew was the first sign of his own orgasm. 

Peeta had been holding back, but at the sound of Katniss’ imminent climax, he began to feel strained. He could tell by the way Piers’ was grunting as he fucked their girlfriend hard and fast that his twin was close to his own release as well. 

“Yes!” Katniss screamed, and then Peeta saw her whole body shudder and he knew that was it. 

“Oh, fuck baby, just like that! Come on my cock!” Piers shouted, as he rocked into Katniss from behind. The sight of Piers getting off on what was no doubt a spectacular one of Katniss’ orgasms almost made Peeta lose it, but he held on. 

“That was so damn good,” Piers said after his orgasm had dissipated. He pulled away from Katniss and she whimpered at the loss of him. He just pulled off his shirt and used it to gently swipe at their combined fluids,  which had begun to trickle down her golden-colored thighs. 

“It's ok, Sweetheart, I’ll be back for you before you know it. But Peeta’s still hard, Honey, and I don’t think you’re mad at him anymore, now that you’ve come a couple times, huh?” Piers asked gently as he pressed a kiss to Katniss’ bare shoulder. When Piers looked over his shoulder at his brother, he had an amused smirk on his identically handsome face.

Peeta almost rolled his eyes at Piers’ cocky grin, but he didn’t. If he hadn’t been late, Katniss would have no doubt offered to take him in her mouth while Piers fucked her, and all three of them would have come by now. 

Katniss turned around to kiss Piers on the lips deeply, and Peeta watched in fascination as their tongues tangled together. 

Finally, they broke apart and Katniss let out a breathy sigh. Piers stepped away then, and Katniss turned to Peeta and held her arms out. Gone was the look of annoyance. Instead it was replaced with longing. Peeta went to her immediately.

“We really missed you. And we had no idea if we added the right amount of white wine to the sauce. And we didn’t know if it was okay to substitute canned sundried tomatoes instead of organic ones—” Katniss began to complain sullenly. Peeta brushed her dark brown hair back from her face lovingly. She sometimes had a hard time verbalizing her feelings, and often her knee-jerk response was annoyance or even anger. But once she processed her feelings, she was often very sweet. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sure whatever you and Piers cooked it will be just lovely,” Peeta replied, before he couldn’t resist going in for a kiss. 

Katniss let out a wonderful sound that was akin to a purr and Peeta slanted his mouth over hers at an angle to deepen the kiss. Katniss reached down gently to run her hand over the length of his erection and Peeta moaned into her mouth. 

“You’re just saying that because you want to come inside me,” Katniss challenged and Peeta shook his head. 

“No, I know Piers doesn't enjoy cooking as much as I do, but he’s damn good in the kitchen in a pinch,” Peeta said with a small strained chuckle as Katniss continued to slowly stroke his dick. He didn’t bother to try and say he didn’t want to come inside her because that just wasn’t true. He always wanted to come inside her. But that wasn’t why he had said what he said. 

“Oh, so if it's good it's only because of Piers?” Katniss asked, pulling away from him a little. Peeta shook his head, slightly aggravated. 

“No, I just meant I knew you were in excellent hands if I couldn’t be here to help you,” Peeta replied, stepping towards her again and kissing up the side of her neck. 

“Hmm, yes he did come in handy while you were busy closing up for the fifth time this week,” Katniss replied playfully, looking over at Piers who shot her a lascivious grin. He had already pulled his pants back up and was simply watching the two of them flirt and argue. 

“Oh, come on Katniss. I’m sorry, okay? I should have made Antonio close like we agreed. There? Happy now?” Peeta said as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek, breathing in her wild clean scent. She smelled like a field of wildflowers. 

“No. I won’t be happy until I have your hard, thick cock pounding me until I come again Peeta. It's the least you can do to make up for being late to our Valentine's dinner,” Katniss replied as she tiptoed up and took his earlobe in her mouth, biting down just hard enough to send a shockwave of pain-laced pleasure to his dick. Peeta gasped out a curse as he pulled her closer to his body. 

“Is that the apology you really want, my love? No problem. How do you want it? From behind again, against the fridge?” Peeta asked, his voice thick with desire. 

“Against the fridge, yes. But not from behind, I want to watch you. So you better pick me up,” Katniss ordered, and Peeta didn’t hesitate to comply. He kicked his pants the rest of the way off. Then he hoisted her up and let her wrap her slim legs around his torso, enjoying the warm wetness of her center pressed against his abdomen. He carried her on sure feet and pressed her back against the fridge. She shivered delightfully in his arms. Peeta licked his lips. 

“You know you looked so desperate a minute ago that I really thought you were gonna fuck her with your work slacks around your ankles bro,” Piers commented with a chuckle as he leaned back against the counter.

“Well, you both made it look so incredible. And you didn’t even take your clothes all the way off. Love this red dress by the way,” Peeta told his twin and then complimented Katniss with a smile. 

“I hoped you would both like it,” Katniss replied as she fiddled with the strap that had come undone. The top of her dress was still pulled down haphazardly, her tan breasts topped with terracotta-colored nipples strained against the cool air of the kitchen. Peeta stared at her, drinking in the gorgeous sight, his thumbs gently brushing against her sides. 

“I think it's safe to assume by the automatic boners you gave both of us that Peeta and I like the dress, Sweetheart. You know, I never thought we’d like the same girl, much less share a girlfriend at the same time. But life is full of surprises,” Piers said with quiet amusement. 

“Both of you, less talking more sexing please,” Katniss interrupted and Peeta and Piers both laughed. They often joked that Katniss had a one-track mind. Peeta leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. 

“I missed you too,” he said quietly. Katniss smiled a little against his lips before pouncing on his mouth. She threw herself into the kiss wholeheartedly, and it made Peeta’s heart swell with love. It made another part of him swell also. 

She rubbed herself against him, her molten core lighting him up from within, as Peeta rutted his hard cock along the underside of her ass, grazing the swell of her cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to watch her face as she climaxed, and fill her up with his cum before they all sat down to a nice Valentine’s dinner. 

Katniss pulled him closer and removed her mouth from his so she could begin trailing kisses across his jaw, while her hands roamed across his shoulders and chest. Peeta shifted their bodies to try and align his erection with her entrance. 

“Yes, please Peeta,” Katniss panted in his ear, and Peeta breathed her name once before plunging into her. 

“Fuck! Yes!” Katniss cried, her nails digging into his back as he held still for a moment, just basking in the feeling of her wrapped around him. She pushed her hips forward, encouraging him to move. When Peeta did, he groaned as he withdrew almost all the way out and pushed into her again. 

“You feel amazing. You’re amazing,” Peeta murmured in between thrusts, his pace picking up. Katniss encouraged him loudly to go faster and harder as she held onto his shoulders and they rocked the fridge slightly. 

“Just a little more, just-just-ahh!” Katniss cried, one hand fisting in Peeta’s hair as he tried to maintain control so she could come again. 

He would have reached down to circle her clit, but he was using both hands to hold her up as he pounded into her. So instead she snaked her own hand down in between their bodies and began to touch herself in time with their rhythm. Her moans became more urgent, and so did the driving of Peeta’s hips. 

Peeta watched as her eyes widened for a split second, then snapped closed before she threw her head back, her dark hair wild and mussed looking against the stainless steel door of the fridge, her breasts bouncing erotically as her inner muscles started to spasm around his cock. She looked prettier than a painting. 

“Peeta!” she gasped, eyes still closed. He instinctively slowed his pace but deepend his strokes, letting her ride her orgasm out slowly. 

“There you go, Sweetheart, come for me. Just like that. You’re fucking gorgeous when you loose it while I’m inside you,” Peeta told her as he gripped her ass tighter, plunging into her again, over and over, as she mewled and writhed against him. He could still feel her pulsing around him, pulling him in deeper and massaging his cock so wonderfully. 

“You’re milking me, Sweetheart, I love your cunt! Fuck! I’m gonna fill you up now, okay?” Peeta told her and she nodded frantically. 

“Come inside me, Peeta. I want to watch your face when you do!” she said just before biting down on his left shoulder. 

“Oh, God!” Peeta gasped as his rhythmic thrusts faltered and he slowed, almost to a stand still. Katniss lifted her hands to his face and caressed the sides of his cheeks. He knew she was watching him, even though he had his eyes closed from the overwhelming pleasure. He pushed into her, once, twice, and then he came. He opened his eyes and her liquid-silver stare locked onto his blue gaze as he painted her soft warmth with his hot cum, and spent himself until he was empty. 

It took them both a minute to come down from their high. All the while Peeta was murmuring he loved her quietly as he pressed his forehead against hers. Katniss kissed him softly and smiled at him, until finally he began to grow soft and he had to withdraw from her body. 

Piers grinned at them and handed them his t-shirt so they could clean up a bit. 

“That was hot,” Piers told Katniss as he helped her fix her dress and retie her straps. 

“It was a fun way to kick off Valentine's night,” Katniss agreed with a cheeky laugh before swaying up on her tiptoes and kissing Piers’ nose. Piers laughed then, a wonderfully light and happy sound, and Peeta smiled at both of them. 

The two people he loved most in the world, who also loved him. 

Not a single soul was to be found on the streets of the city carved out of the rock at that late hour. Perhaps he was the only dwarf after all the exhausting hours of that damned day who could still stay awake or find the strength to walk through those narrow tunnels late at night. But because it had been such an exhausting day, he felt the need to get it over with as quickly as possible and to assert his right to throw himself between the sheets of his bed and sleep for the few hours he was allowed to. Talking to that one dwarf, however, seemed an impossible task that night, Dwalin was not at his home. Thorin had spent nearly ten minutes there, knocking incessantly on his door, and so now he found himself walking to the only place Dwalin could be found at that hour: the forges, their forge, the only place in the Ered Luin that they had managed to build without a hitch in the twenty years they had been there, the only place where Thorin could feel a little less like a king in exile than he already did.

After all that time Thorin still felt like one, a young king in exile, even if he was not a king at all. It had only been a few years that they had been in the Blue Mountains, yet, he already felt the weight of time on his shoulders, already felt old even though he was not.

Even though Thorin was not a king, he was treated like one and the dwarrowdams saw him as one.

He had noticed it long ago, how they looked at him, how they longed for him, how after a night spent in the sheets of an inn or at worst pressed up against the rough walls of a corridor, they worshipped him as such. They called him king while he was on top of them and inside of them and he loved it. But then they all ended up wanting more than one night from him, and he wasn't willing to give them that. A wife wasn't something he wanted.  He could do without the warmth of a woman's thighs if it meant bonding and he didn't want to bond, a loss he would never suffer again of that Thorin was sure.

Breathing heavily and now feeling his nerves on edge, he turned his head as he infiltrated the corridors of the market, now completely emptied: the long sheets that decorated the tunnels, from coloured were just bland, dark spots above his head as were the carved windows at the side of the corridors. He turned a corner towards the craftsmen's area and amidst the bluish gloom, a bright light from a window caught his eye, causing him to look up at the only unmarked door in the entire underground marketplace: Dwalin was indeed in the workshop.

What in Durin's name was he doing there in the middle of the night?

Moved by fatigue and impatience, Thorin lengthened his stride, lifting the sleeves of his blue shirt to his elbow, sighing, and without even waiting for a signal or knocking, he opened the door to the forge.

What he saw certainly didn't astonish him, but it did impress him enough to keep his hand clawed at the wooden door handle.

The entire forge was barely illuminated by the orange light from the furnace still crackling at the back of the room, creating sharp shadows on the stone floor and giving him a perfect view of the spectacle that was unfolding on the table at the side of the forge where he worked almost every day.

On the wooden plank next to the anvil, once covered with tools now completely thrown on the floor, two moaning figures were clinging together, rubbing their half-naked bodies against each other and making the wood beneath them creak with every single movement.

Dwalin was holding a woman sitting with her legs spread above the table, clutching at her buttocks under her skirt with both his hands. His tongue almost completely shoved down her throat, while she was moaning softly into his mouth, clutching at his bare ash-stained hips with both her legs. It was not at all difficult for Thorin to notice her hand inside Dwalin's breeches and how it moved slowly up and down, so slowly that the king felt a shiver of frustration run down his spine.  

For some strange and absurd reason, he found himself entranced for the first time by this scene that he had seen happen more than once in other situations with other dwarrowdams, but a sudden low squeak from the woman stopped his gaze on the small naked body clinging to the doubly larger one of his best friend.  

Thorin could not tear his eyes away or even cough to make himself noticeable, he clenched his jaw and his hand around the knob, finding himself subduing a growl in his chest and a heavy breath soon after.

He ran his eye from the small, slow hand hidden inside the brown fabric to her arm exposed by the transparent soutane. He ran his gaze over the full chest clearly visible through the transparent fabric to the backward sloping neck that allowed Dwalin to pounce on one of her breasts like an animal. He bit it with such force that he blocked her hand's movements inside his trousers and made her moan his name in such a sensual way that Thorin could hear that moan inside his loins and in his goal that suddenly became as dry as the crotch of his trousers tight, annoying him.

Damn.

He clenched his legs together, blocking the hand that was already going to rest between them to hide his bulge: now was not the time, there was something else to think about and then he would be going to take a cold bath as soon as Dwalin gave him a look.

But Dwalin didn't seem to cooperate, nor did Thorin's eyes, which widened as the female's back bent backwards, pulling the fabric of her.

petticoat down revealing both of her breasts.

Dwalin squeezed her buttocks, dropping his mouth even further down and grabbing a nipple left bare by the fabric with his teeth, making her almost squeal as he began to torture it with his teeth. And it was at that moment that Thorin had a full view of the face of the creature for whom his friend was not even looking at him: the smooth skin, the taut shoulders, the small neck, the unruly brown hair so long they touched the table, the half-closed eyes filled with small tears, the flushed cheeks devoid of hair, as well as her mouth wide open with pleasure with the outline devoid of any kind of beard.

And it was that last detail that was more powerful than any cold bath ever could have been. Thorin's hand, which by now had moved on its own to his annoying erection grasping it through his trousers, suddenly moved away and clenched into a fist at the side of his thigh. He felt his trousers get looser, the pulse in his throat slow and the disgusting rise.

A human, Dwalin was banging a filthy human inside their forge.

A female human.

He gripped the door handle hard enough to feel it go into the palm of his hand, and violently slammed the door shut behind him, looking away from the human to Dwalin who, unlike him, was far from disgusted as he continued to suck on her breasts as if he were a hungry bairn.

He didn't even seem to realise he'd walked in but knowing the dwarf he knew he'd heard him, but the truth was that for Dwalin, Thorin might as well have been rotting at that moment and the member in his breeches, now so taut it almost hurt under Eyia's attentions, if it could have spoken, he would have told him as much.  Responding to Thorin in the fastest way he knew, he ran his tongue over the taut nipple, running his lips and tongue up the defined line of her shoulder. She began to gasp with impatience and in a moment, he captured her lips again, sinking his tongue back into that tasty palate that tasted like a different fruit every night. At the same time, Eyia's small hand, first resting on his shoulder, gripped his crest, entwining her fingers tightly in his hair, making him roar inside her mouth as she squeezed his member with the same strength.

In Durin's name that human would have driven him mad one of those nights, but to the King of Erebor that little game was beginning to get on his nerves.

Clenching his jaw Thorin walked unconcernedly to the side of the room and without a word sat down with his arms crossed on the wooden chair where he usually threw his dirty clothes after work, apron on the opposite side of the table where that vicious act Dwalin was engaged in was taking place.

"I need to talk to you. " He told him, trying to keep his eyes focused on his friend's profile, who as soon as he noticed his insistent gaze broke away from the human's lips and turned his head towards his own.

"I am a little busy at the moment." He retorted throwing an eloquent look towards his hand around the human woman's outstretched leg and, as if to underline what he meant, the woman rubbed her femininity against Dwalin's thigh meowing like a cat in heat.

Repugnant.

With disgust and indifference, Thorin shook his shoulders letting his back go even further to the chair.

"I can wait." He retorted in Khuzdul not wanting the human to understand one more word from them.

The dwarf warrior gave him a dirty look as soon as Thorin let go of his back to the chair and crossed his arms in anticipation, raising an eyebrow wryly: he couldn't even for once give him a freaking hour off, all that work would kill him sooner or later as well as his composure and that damned look of indifference.

Dwalin had to bite his lip, holding back a groan between his teeth as Eyia's small fingers moved up his member until they grazed his tip. Slowly she began to stroke it with small concentric gestures which she began to imitate with slow movements of her pelvis making him feel how wet she was, riding his leg slowly, moaning into his hear his name and making him hate Thorin insistence even more.

"Do-we-really-need-to-do-this-right-now?" Dwalin roared at Thorin, barely managing to keep his hands fixed on Eyia's thighs in the meantime that she again let her hand go even further down his trousers.

"Dwalin, please." She whispered pleadingly in his ear licking his earlobe rubbing herself against his leg again. "Please."

Following her, with his blue eyes, Thorin let out an annoyed snort as soon as the girl in one smooth movement freed Dwalin's member completely from the fabric of his breeches accompanying him past the loose leather straps caressing his entire length right before his eyes.

"She is human." He pointed wryly, clutching his forearms outstretched at the girl's insolence.

"I know what she is." Dwalin retorted, barely suppressing a groan as Eyia mischievously began to slowly kiss the side of his neck, swiping her wet tongue under the hairline of his beard as fast as she continued to torture his erection.

"Why?" Thorin asked, beginning to grow impatient that the girl didn't even mind his presence and continued unconcernedly, moaning into his friend's chin.

"Why not?"

"Because she is a human!" Thorin roared back, retorting something that was more than obvious to him.

Dwalin rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a modicum of control, which was very easy for him especially if instead of a pair of tits he had to look at Thorin's unyielding face and instead of hearing moans he was instead forced to hear his irritating tone berating him for a problem that had been his and his alone for years.

He knew why Thorin was scolding him: all his life the idiot had lain only with dwarrowdams, as they had all been taught since they were only boys, as the true tradition of their people dictated. But Thorin seemed to be the only one who still followed that idea, and since they had left the villages of Dunland, it was as if that thought had become even more ingrained in him. If only that idiot, bound to his damned traditions had known what it was like to be between their thighs, and Eyia seemed intent on making him understand that or at least make Thorin feel so uncomfortable that he would get them both out of the way.

That was why Dwalin adored her, why he wanted her every night, why he craved her thighs so much that he had rotted the guards at the entrance by paying them to let her infiltrate the halls most nights. That lustful, rebellious human tavern-keeper from that night in the city of men had become his favourite poison, and the taste of her cherry in his mouth had become tastier than any beer he'd ever drunk.

Marred the dwarrowdams and their ostentatious purity and devotion. He adored his human.

"You are too stern, you always are." He scolded Thorin with a hiss but was unable not to sneer as he cast a glance underneath him to the stiff, rosy nipple pressed against his pecs indulging what he already understood to be Y/N's desires. "Have you ever seen one of them without their clothes on?"

With a snort, Thorin rolled his eyes again in annoyance. "She is nearly as tall as you."

"Only if you keep staring and trust me it's the last thing ya notice when you are on top of them or...behind them." Dwalin snickered, looking him straight in the eye even as he slowly moved up to Eyia's shoulder, kissing her as she reached up to his ear, biting it under the earring.

"He is boring you were right." A single whisper that made him grin against her rosy skin and made him make perhaps the rightest decision of his entire life.

Dwalin licked his lips as he continued to look at Thorin, and with a sharp movement, he passed the hand still clinging to Y/N's leg underneath her petticoat, lifting it all the way up and revealing her open thighs and belly still pressed against the now soaked fabric of his breeches.

Thorin thought still tried not to look, was compelled when he saw Dwalin's hand full of scars, like his own, began to stroke her inner thigh with the back of his hand in front of him. "They have a body as sensitive body as a virgin one. Sometimes I am even afraid of breaking when I touch it. They're the hardest metal I've ever dealt with."

As much as the king had tried to control himself, he couldn't help but bite the inside of his cheek when with the pelvis of the human went for Dwalin's touch again spreading her legs wide just for him.

When Dwalin noticed how Thorin was staring at his hand, he smiled triumphantly: perhaps giving him a little demonstration before blowing him up wouldn't be such a bad idea. The dwarf warrior shifted his gaze from Thorin's increasingly tense face to the face of Eyia resting on his shoulder before he leaned back with his torso from the table, allowing Thorin to see what was to follow.

Slowly he brought his hand up to Eyia's throbbing pubis, and knowing how she would react, he brushed his thumb over her opening making her legs spread even wider. He lowered his touch until he flowered her engorged, wet clit. Eyia moaned softly against the beard on his neck and in a spasm of pleasure, she pulled her hand away from his member grabbing his wrist: like an obedient virgin, the way she wanted Thorin to look at her and all just to get him out of her slit.

She glared at him : she knew she'd go crazy, she'd freak out, probably kick Thorin out in a bad way and in Durin's name that would turn him on more than any moan she could ever get out of her mouth.

Thorin Oakenshield, hunted by a human from his own forge.

"They adore us ya know, human maids." Dwalin whispered, turning his gaze to him and grinning out of the side of his mouth as the human's small hand tried to push his friend's hand down even further. "It is something I can't even explain, they look for our bodies as it's the first time they see man, they touch us as we are melted gold." She told him turning her head towards the human's rubbing her lips against the small ear covered by the unruly wisps. "By my beard..." Dwalin murmured hoarsely as he felt Y/N getting wetter and wetter under his fingers to the point of dripping. "She pends from my lips and limbs, as I am Mahal myself sometimes." He murmured more to himself than to Thorin.

"Of curse she does, you are paying her." Thorin retorted, making his friend grin in satisfaction as he looked at him again.

"I am not, Eyia is no whore she is an innkeeper from the human village outside, the innkeeper who offers the sweetest ale in all of this damned Valar-dominated part of the world." He commented hoarsely as he continued to look at him, but Thorin's gaze remained fixed on Dwalin's hand.

The friend of his, biting his lip, let his middle finger in between the two wet folds slide inside her, just enough to get only the tip of his finger in but enough to make her moan with so much satisfaction Thorin felt that nagging feeling press into his trousers again, growing more and more.

"So you are courting a human in a forge." He muttered, lowering his arms to try and cover his shame as much as he could manage.

"I am not courting her we just keep each other company until the sun rises every two nights when you are not inside this damned workshop and I have a moment's peace."

At those last words, Thorin could no longer remain silent or still, forcefully he held his forearms glaring at him. He could have accepted that Dwalin had taken a shine to a human, and even justified his sneaking her in. He wouldn't have approved but he would have understood, instead, he let her into their city only to bang her every other day.

She suppressed a small growl but was unable to keep from gritting her teeth furiously at each other. "So you are sneaking a human maid into these halls with-"

"You can also speak directly to me you know I am not invisible."

Finally, Eyia couldn't take it any more, that game was taking too long and knowing that they were talking about her in that deep, scratchy language, now after those long weeks even familiar, was driving her out of her mind.

She had been good, patient but Dwalin's finger between her legs was no longer enough and in those few hours she had free in the night, Eyia wanted to feel more than just his fingers and hear those words in Dwarvish only whispered into her ears between thrusts.

Pulling her lips away from Dwalin's strong neck she lether face go gently against his chest and entwined both arms around his shoulders, finally glancing down at the end of the table at the annoying interlocutor. She knew very well who he was, she could guess who he was, but at that moment it could have been Aule himself and she would have treated him the same way.

Eyia felt Dwalin's chest move up and down as his rough and deep chuckle resonated into the room, while on the other side the other dwarf remained silent, crossing slowly his legs while an irritated snore passed through his lips.

"You have a sharp tongue for a woman."

"Many say so, they say I tend to give voice to my though too many times."

"That's why Dwalin likes you then." He retorted, grinning out of the side of his mouth as he glanced behind her, clearly referring to Dwalin who was still holding his hand between her legs, teasing the entrance with the tip of his finger.

But Eyia weren't in the mood at that moment at all.

"He likes to talk, a lot actually, more than me even sometimes." She retorted aggressively, raising an eyebrow as Eyia slowly dropped her hands towards the step and gripped the edge of the table.

Oh yes, he liked to talk, especially as he watched her get dressed. He kissed her with his rough lips, he kissed every spot he hadn't touched enough during the night, rubbing his rough beard over every inch of her body and more than once, in those chats, she'd overheard them while his head was between her legs and she had to hold on to his black hair looking at the tattoos on his head.  

And those little discussions were also the reason she knew exactly who she was facing, the one Dwalin liked to call the Pride Bastard, or in some rare moments, his king.

Sceptically, Thorin raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly to the side. "He doesn't speak a lot to me, that's why I came here, because I needed to talk with him, but he was busy, with you."

"Then maybe he prefers my company because or you are just a silent person or just boorish...I think more the second choice. " Eyia hissed, totally voicing her thoughts as she turn her upper body totally towards him, not at all ashamed of her condition. How her breasts were totally in his sight, as well as her belly almost completely exposed if it wasn't covered by the side of her thigh.

He was the one who had stayed if her body was going to give him any trouble he might as well go away and let her continue her night with Dwalin without any further ado on his part.

Thorin clicked his tongue again, but this time through his blue eyes partially covered by the pitch-black wisps Eyia could see a spark ignite, a spark that made her womanhood pulsate between her legs and hold her hands on the surface of the table almost crawling over it.

"Yes, you tend to use your tongue a little bit too much for my tastes." He pinned the dwarf down, narrowing his gaze and spreading his legs over the chair in a fluid motion, settling even better: oh no, he wasn't leaving, not now.

And for all the Valar, he was annoying, he was boring, he'd used a tone since he'd walked in that even if she didn't understand it was capable of sending her into a rage, but she'd be a liar not to admit he was the most beautiful dwarf and man, and elf she'd ever seen. Dwalin was gorgeous, he had aroused her instincts the first moment Eyia saw him sitting at the tavern table. Powerful, rough, mischievous, but with a gaze that showed all the gentleness that could conceal the dwarf still well placed between her legs at that moment. A carnal, hard, violent beauty: his scars on his body, his arms covered in those tattoos she could have looked at and kissed for hours, his broken nose, but Thorin was a different kind of beauty. One she had rarely had the opportunity to see, a beauty as cold and dark as his hair that began to make the inside of her legs throb once more. The fine lips, the sharp eyes that were eating her alive at that moment, the backset as if he were not sitting on a wooden stool in a forge but on a throne. The taut, stocky muscles that darted beneath the regal yet humble blue shirt he was wearing crumpled at that moment. The dark hair on his chest rising slightly towards his square jaw covered by a short, unkempt beard the same colour as the long, black hair loose on his powerful shoulders. That voice, for all Valar, that hateful, haughty voice, that was making the hairs on her back stand up in annoyance but so deep and authoritative that it seemed to come from the very bowels of the earth, tangling with her own.