Chapter 14 - I'm a cat. Meow

Mila woke up with Glorfindel's arm circling her bare waist, and when she saw his sleeping face, she couldn't help but smiling like a fool.

Her heart thrummed with happiness and disbelief as she gazed at his ethereal visage. Glorfindel slept like an angel, his expression relaxed and peaceful. She still felt like dreaming; maybe she was still dreaming–but then it won't explain the still full feeling she felt between her legs from yesterday. Down there, she felt as if he was still inside her.

Glorfindel had been so gentle and careful with her, like a saint, that she had imagined that their first love making would be something sweet, slow, unsure yet romantic. Now that she laid there on his bed, she knew better.

Hiding behind that angelic persona, was an insatiable and very hungry male, and she was not complaining at all. That first time on his desk was completely beyond their plan. It was a thrilling, happy accident. Mila remembered the dark, almost uncontrollable desire on his expression that day, and despite knowing that a first time might be painful for her, she was more than willing to give herself to him, to make him happy.

But Glorfindel was so good to her. In the midst of his urgent need, she remembered him pausing instantly as soon as he realized that his first entry hurt her. He stopped moving and cuddled her, peppering his comforting kisses along her shoulder and neck as he gave her time to adjust to him.

And boy, he was a lot to adjust to.

By the time her pain had faded into pleasure, he took what he wanted and punished her in the best ways possible, just like he promised earlier before that. Mila knew then that she ought to annoy him more often.

After that they walked in hurry, hand in hand towards his chamber, and when no one was looking, Mila did tease him by grabbing his butt–a very tight butt, by the way–and she got what she wanted from him.

They didn't even made it to the bed, and he proceeded with fucking her against the wall like a true warrior.

Mila bit her finger to keep from squealing like a fangirl who reads this fanfic. Even only remembering it made her heart pound in her chest. After that, Glorfindel kind of alternated between making love to her, or fucking her senseless, and Mila lost track of how many times she came undone by him yesterday.

Her eyes fleeted across his naked body, wanting to feast her eyes at his impressive form. Unfortunately, the lower half of his glorious body was hidden under the covers.

Fortunately, she could just lift the covers a bit to take a peek– and that was exactly what she did. She peeked like a creep, hoping to get a look at his almighty junk.

A soft, deep chuckle entered her ears, making her flinch.

"You could just look. I'm yours now," he murmured, his jeweled blue eyes bleary as he looked at her.

Mila blushed, knowing that she was busted like a child with her hand in a cookie jar.

"I know," she chirped, "I just like the thrill of stealing a look when you're not looking."

"I can pretend to sleep again, if you want."

Mila raised her brow. "Again?"

Glorfindel couldn't contain his smirk, and Mila slapped his arm playfully.

"You haven't been sleeping all this minute???" she pouted.

Glorfindel pulled her to his bare chest and squeezed her to him. "I think your mischievousness has rubbed off on me," he said before planting a sweet kiss on her temple. He looked at her through his lashes, his eyes shone with happiness and content. "I could use to this. Waking up with you in my arms. This feels like a dream."

"A good dream?" Mila asked with a grin.

"The best," he said in a whisper, giving her a long, affectionate kiss, followed with a long, warm cuddle.

One more thing she learned these past few hours about him. Glorfindel was a big cuddler. This was always his default pattern–if he wasn't making love to her, he would be cuddling her, and when their cuddles turned somewhat handsy, then they would be making love again, ending it with more cuddles. Rinse and repeat.

Now that Mila thought about it, she was surprised at how well she kept up with him, considering his inhuman stamina.

I mean, that elf is non stop.

"What is this?" he asked in a sudden, frowning, "Were you hurt?"

Mila looked at where his thumb was caressing her shoulder.

"Ah..." Mila grew uncomfortable, "It's a stretch mark."

"Stretch mark?" he repeated in question, concern in his striking blue eyes.

"It's common for girls like me," she murmured, "It's part of the growing up process. When I grew, the skin stretched."

Glorfindel was positively worried now. "It must hurt. It looks like blade scar."

Mila shook her head. "It didn't."

The elf planted feather kisses on her shoulder where the marks were, making her smile. Suddenly her self consciousness dissipated. He turned her flaw into something beautiful with his words.

"So delicate is your skin that it breaks easily, my sweet wild flower," he sighed as he brushed her cheek with his fingers, his eyes gazed at her reverently, making Mila's stomach fluttered.

Mila smiled, not knowing how to explain to him that it wasn't like that. She chose not to say anything, besides, the elves probably didn't have a single flaw on their skin, except for battle scars, that they were unfamiliar with stretch marks. Mila guessed stretch marks is a human thing.

So fragile.

Mila opened her eyes when she heard that voice of his, followed with a feeling of wistfulness that seemingly came out of nowhere.

"Did you just say something?" Mila asked.

"No," he replied quietly, sending her a lazy, content smile.

I love you.

Mila jumped to a sitting position, pulling the covers to her bare chest, freaking out. "WHAT WAS THAT?!"

Glorfindel covered his ear with his hand, cringing slightly at her sudden exclamation. He sighed.

"Mila..." he groaned, "Don't shout."

"YOUR LIPS WEREN'T MOVING!!! AHHHH IT'S A GHOST!!"

Mila was so chaotic that Glorfindel had to sit up and caught her in his arms from behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder. "It's just me you're hearing. Please stop shouting."

When Mila finally calmed enough, Glorfindel explained. "When the Eldars marry their soulmate, they form a bond in their fea," he planted feverish kiss on the honey skin of her shoulders, "Married elves then able to communicate with each other silently through their marriage bonds. Like you can hear me."

"..."

Something tugged inside Mila. Warmth. Desire, like a small flame lit from a match.

"Feel that?" he asked, his voice husky as he trailed her neck with his lips, "That's me. It's not a ghost," Glorfindel ended with a chuckle.

"Whoa," Mila's lips formed an O, "Try that again."

Try what?

"Oh my gosh!" Mila turned her head to Glorfindel, finding him smiling all the way to his eyes, "This is so cool."

"It is, isn't it?" Glorfindel pecked the edge of her lips, "I've only heard it from other elves. But to experience it myself..." he traced his kisses on her jaw, "It's good to be able to feel you with me."

"Is it one way only or can you hear me too?"

"I can, if you let me," he murmured, his voice seductive, "Try."

Mila thought for a second.

You must look edible when wet and naked.

Glorfindel suddenly covered his mouth with his fist and looked away, hiding his amused chuckle. Of all the things that his wife could say first through their bonds, those words were the one she chose.

"Are you suggesting we have a bath together?" he asked with mirth in his eyes.

Mila's jaw dropped in amazement. Then she smirked with mischief in a way that disturbed Glorfindel.

She spent way too much time with the twins.

"I'll get the hot water running," she purred, brushing her cheek to his.

Naughty cat.

Mila giggled at the words that he sent down their bonds, before skipping off the bed and yanked the covers with her, leaving Glorfindel's naked body exposed for her to see. Mila's eyes fleeted towards his arousal, her smile devious as she left to the adjoined bathroom in the room.

Glorfindel chuckled to himself, realizing that Mila was quite a handful–and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Sounds of water running entered his ears, along with it, sounds of two elves talking in the corridor just behind his door, approaching closer. Knowing who it was, Glorfindel got up and put on his sleeping pants, heading to the door, opening it just enough for him to talk to the unwanted guests, but not enough for them to see inside.

"Captain," Variel greeted, giving him a once over, while Ilya, who was next to her blushed upon seeing him only half dressed. "You're not dressed," Variel noted unhappily, "We're supposed to go hunting today. Everyone is wondering where you are. You've been missing since yesterday afternoon. What's going on with you?"

"Tell Lord Elrond I'm taking a long overdue days off. A week," he said with a flat expression on his face. Yet the moment the elves before him heard his voice, their eyes widened. Something changed with Glorfindel. Something huge.

That was the way of the elves. They could tell from from each other's voice if an elf is married or not, for it was imbued within their instinct to never take another which they do not love. It was their natural defense mechanism, for the elves were weak of hearts, and they would pass had they were taken by force by another other than the one they were destined with.

"Did you–"

"–Also tell the twins Mila is also taking a week off. Actually, tell them that she quits. And that no one knocks my door except to offer meals," Glorfindel added upon realizing that Mila hadn't had anything to eat since last night.

The two elleth before him both had shocked, yet elated look on their faces as they put two and two together.

"Come on, Glorfindel. This cat won't wash itself."

Glorfindel closed his eyes, embarrassed, though his expression remained impassive. Variel and Ilya too, had heard Mila's taunting voice from the bathroom with their elven hearing. Ilya, he didn't mind, for she was rather quiet and shy. Variel–she would torment him with this information for the next century.

While Variel had a scandalous look on her face, Ilya, the rather innocent one out of the two, was confused. "You have a cat?" asked her, "Aren't cats wash themselves?"

Glorfindel was done.

"Goodbye," he said, before closing his door to their faces.

***

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