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Bilbo gasped as his arm was grabbed and he was shoved against a tree.
This was just perfect, just what the halfling needed. Thorin had ordered him to collect firewood or whatever else while the rest of the company set up camp. The hobbit knew at the time that it was just an excuse to get Bilbo out of everyone’s hair, which really, usually backfired. Every time that Bilbo had been sent off alone, something always happened.
And here was something happening.
“What—?” he gasped again, upon seeing Thorin’s face in the moonlit darkness. Before he could finish his question, rough lips were against his and hands rucking up his shirt.
Bilbo groaned and returned the hard, unexpected kiss, his hands tangling in the black mane of hair that fell around him with the way Thorin had to bend to meet his lips. Eventually, the dwarf growled and pulled back, only to pull at the buttons of the hobbit’s waist coat and shirt.
“Thorin, what are—?”
“What does I look like I am doing, halfling?” the dwarf asked shortly, only pausing after fully exposing Bilbo’s torso for the hobbit to reply. Someone as high in status and importance as Thorin would never hesitate.
“Well this could be several things, most of which end in my being mocked,” Bilbo babbled, his breath hitching as Thorin spread his rough hand across his almost hairless chest.
“You think I aim to humiliate you?” Thorin murmured against his ear, his tongue flicking out to lick the pointed tip of it. Something in his tone was vaguely saddened, and perhaps a little bit angry, though at whom the halfling didn’t know.
Bilbo shivered and gasped. “You—I mean someone like you couldn’t possibly want m—a hobbit like myself,” he whispered, turning his head as Thorin continued to nuzzle at his sensitive ear.
“And yet,” Thorin began, pressing his pelvis and obvious erection into Bilbo’s stomach. “Here I am, wanting not just a hobbit like you, but you. It is your choice, Master Baggins. Say the word and I will leave you be.”
“Oh, gods,” Bilbo moaned as he raised himself onto his toes to pull Thorin into another kiss, desperate and needy for the contact. If Thorin would have him, he would more than gladly give himself.
The dwarf chuckled darkly into the hobbit’s warm mouth, but not unkindly, and worked on the ties of Bilbo’s trousers, opening them and shoving them down. Bilbo made a move to divest the dwarf similarly after stepping out of the fabric pooled around his ankles, but Thorin grabbed his wrists lightly.
“Hands off, Bilbo,” Thorin ordered lightly, but it was an order nonetheless. Bilbo pulled his hands away, whimpering as a white hot spike of arousal shot down his belly and pooled in his groin at the firmness in the dwarf’s tone. Something must have shown on his face because Thorin got a wild look in his eyes and smirked hungrily.
“Remove your smallclothes,” Thorin commanded more sternly than the last order, making the hobbit shiver uncontrollably. “Only your smallclothes.”
Bilbo shoved his pants down his legs as quickly as he could, and Thorin was hoisting him up when he had only freed one foot from the tangle of material. The halfling found himself naked save for his open shirt and coat, pinned back against the tree by the length of Thorin’s body with their pelvises pressed together.
For a moment, Thorin lost his stoic composure, looking absolutely feral as he rutted two or three times against the keening and writhing hobbit.
“Hold on,” Thorin said as he fought to regain control, and Bilbo missed the stimulation immediately.
Nonetheless, the hobbit threw his arms around Thorin’s neck and his little fingers tangled in his black hair again. He clamped his thighs around Thorin’s hips as best he could and purred at the added pressure against his groin.
The dwarf took his hands off the halfling’s waist and began to pull at the belts and fastenings that kept his tunic and undershirt closed. He leaned in for another kiss as his hands wrapped around Bilbo’s plump waist again and lifted him even further up so his hot little erection was pressed against Thorin’s bared stomach.
The hobbit whined at the contact and writhed desperately until Thorin grabbed his waist tighter and stilled his movements.
“Not yet, my little hobbit,” Thorin whispered against Bilbo’s ear before biting it softly, wringing another needy whine from the halfling.
Bilbo felt the hands leave his waist, and could feel Thorin shifting around, heard the sound of a cork being removed from a bottle then replaced. The dwarf’s right hand returned to Bilbo’s left hip, but it was now covered in some sort of oil. Thorin’s left hand came up to tangle in Bilbo’s blonde curls, yanking his head back sharply to offer his lips up for a kiss.
Thorin fucked his mouth roughly with his tongue, dominating the hobbit completely with every lick into his mouth, every bite to his lips. Every time Bilbo thought he might pass out from the lack of breath, Thorin would pull back just long enough for Bilbo to suck in a couple mouthfuls of air.
It was so distracting, Bilbo didn’t notice Thorin’s other hand trailing down and under his arsecheek until he felt a thick, slick finger press at his entrance.
“Thorin!” Bilbo squeaked out as the tip of the finger breached him.
“Mm, again, but with more reverence,” Thorin ordered, mouthing along Bilbo’s jaw and cheeks, laving the soft flesh as he went while he slid his finger deeper.
“Thorin!” Bilbo all but wailed as the dwarf began moving his finger in earnest. The strange feeling wore off fast with the pace the dwarf set, and the pleasure was beginning to mount.
When the dwarf added a second finger, Bilbo cringed at the slightly unpleasant burn. Bilbo was not inexperienced. In his youth, when he was admittedly more Took than Baggins, he would fool around with the other young lads and lasses his age. He took a few lovers, not many but enough that it was safe to say he had a little bit of experience in everything that brought carnal pleasure. In all of his experience though, he had never had a lover quite so large as Thorin’s two fingers alone. Doubt began to spiral in the hobbit’s mind. That was the moment Thorin chose to nudge up against that hidden gland that had the hobbit almost screaming in delight. Thorin was relentless, alternating between scissoring Bilbo open, thrusting sharply against his prostate, and just holding his fingers there and rubbing.
Tears collected at the corners of Bilbo’s eyes as his body began to shake desperately. Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore Thorin added a third finger, effectively pulling a cry of both pain and pleasure from the hobbit. Bilbo couldn’t take it, he needed his release. Pulling a hand free from Thorin’s hair, he made a move to stroke himself to completion.
“No!” the dwarf growled, the hand that he had been using to stroke Bilbo’s hip soothingly snapped to grab the hobbit’s wrist. He lifted Bilbo’s hand and pinned the wrist against the tree above their heads. “You will leave this untouched.”
The hobbit gasped and whined at being told what to do, tossing his head back and forth as the dwarven king attack his prostate with a renewed intent. The hobbit was on the brink, desperate and about to explode when Thorin massaged his prostate between his three fingertips.
Bilbo’s balls drew up so suddenly, he only had time to garble out a breathy “Thorin!” before white streams of his sticky, hot cum painted the black hair on Thorin’s chest. He rutted against Thorin’s stomach in abandon, thrusting back on the fingers inside him while the aftershocks of his orgasm rocketed through him. At some point, while Bilbo was still reeling from the most intense orgasm in his life, Thorin had pulled his fingers free from his entrance, as well as released his arm so that it flopped uselessly at his side, and was shifting again. Absently, he registered the sounds of more belt buckles being undone, as well as the sound of a cork again.
The hobbit just rested his forehead against the dwarf’s broad shoulder and gasped little breaths into his skin. When the dwarf grabbed his waist with one hand and began working him down his body, Bilbo just smiled lazily.
“That was quite good. Very good, indeed,” He murmured, pressing little kisses up and down the dwarf’s neck and onto his chest.
“I’m not done with you just yet, my hobbit,” Thorin ground out, and Bilbo cried out as something much larger than the dwarf’s fingers began to slide into him slowly, but determinedly without pause.
“Oh!” the hobbit gasped as his arse was pressed flush against Thorin’s pelvis, a burning ache settling at the base of his spine. He was afforded this moment of pause to try to relax and get used to the thickness.
Thorin released a long, wrecked moan before setting a rough, almost punishing pace. Bilbo could barely think through the near-pain his oversensitive body was feeling, the pleasure leaving him dazed.
Bilbo was able to focus his eyes briefly, long enough to look up at Thorin. His head angled forward, his lips pulled back and exposing his gritted teeth, but his eyes were open, heavy-lidded and watching Bilbo’s face. The dwarf pressed a sloppy kiss against Bilbo’s mouth that was all teeth and tongue and spit. Completely filthy, but fuck if it didn’t have Bilbo’s cock making a valiant attempt at waking back up. He mewled and keened as his spent prick rubbed against Thorin’s stomach with each thrust. His mouth and neck felt raw with the friction of Thorin’s beard and Bilbo just knew there would be no hiding what they’ve done from the rest of the company. As if sensing that thought, Thorin snarled, outright snarled, and bit at his ear.
“No one else is to touch you,” he growled, his thrusts becoming quick, brutal slaps against Bilbo’s arse.
“Yes!” the hobbit cried, his cock waking up almost instantly. Need flowed through him at being claimed, taken, and so utterly ruined for anyone else.
“You are mine! This,” Thorin squeezed one of Bilbo’s arsecheeks possessively, “is mine.”
“Yours!” Bilbo babbled, and continued to chant it. “Yours, yours, yours!”
“Come for me again,” Thorin whispered before sinking his teeth into the flesh of Bilbo’s throat.
By some miracle, Bilbo came right then and there, his body snapping, going rigid and arching against the large body covering his. Belatedly, he realized he had fistfuls of Thorin’s hair and was messing up the braids that framed his face. Not that the dwarf seemed to care, as he continued moving in and out of Bilbo’s convulsing body.
Thorin released a surprisingly soft sound as his hips snapped up against Bilbo thrice more before he froze. A great shiver went through his broad, muscled frame and he gasped into the skin he still had clutched between his teeth. Heat exploded through the hobbit’s lower back, and he could feel Thorin’s cock pulsing his release into his tight channel. It was so intimate, and so erotic that Bilbo let out a half-hearted moan. Groaning, Thorin released his jaw and let Bilbo’s flesh go, slowly slipping out of the small body. Bilbo very nearly whimpered at the loss.
Before Thorin released him completely, he slid a hand back around to press two fingers back inside.
“Thorin!” Bilbo cried weakly, shaking his head and trying to clamber away from the questing fingers.
“Hush, my treasure, I’m merely making sure I didn’t harm you,” Thorin whispered before bringing his hand away from Bilbo’s rear.
“I feel fine, great, perfect,” Bilbo sighed, watching as the dwarf brought his hand up to observe it. Thorin made eye contact with Bilbo, and held it as he sucked his fingers into his mouth. The hobbit sputtered, completely scandalized, and Thorin chuckled and withdrew his fingers. The dwarf placed Bilbo gently on his feet before stepping back to rearrange his clothes.
“Ooh, there will be gossip,” Bilbo complained half-heartedly as he righted his own clothing, fingering the savage bite mark on his throat gingerly. Thorin only smirked at that as he wiped his chest clean as best he could with a corner of his tunic and got dressed.
“You wanted them to?” Bilbo cried, his hand covering the mark that was miraculously not bleeding.
“Come, Master Baggins. We must eat and then sleep,” Thorin said lowly before bending down for a tender, near-chaste kiss, a touch that was so at odds with what had just transpired that Bilbo was instantly swept away with it. For that moment, Bilbo forgot to be embarrassed, and he felt an odd joy in his chest.
Of course, that was all but forgotten as soon as Bilbo and Thorin wandered back to camp with far too little firewood for how long they had been away. As soon as Bilbo saw Kíli’s inquiring look, and then impish grin before delivering a light nudge to his brother, the hobbit knew there would be no peace for the rest of the journey…
FIN