Then he pulled out, and she felt the spill of him, felt it running down her skin, and his hand was there immediately, pressing over her cunt, sealing him inside her.

"Stay like that." His voice was rough, wrecked. "I want to watch it hold."

She lay there, his hand cupped over her, his come inside her, and she watched his face as he watched his seed leak down her thighs. The dawn light caught the gold in his hair, the burn in his eyes, and she felt the weight of his claim settle over her like a second skin.

His thumb moved, a slow, idle circle over her clit, and she gasped.

"You're going to feel me all day," he murmured. "Every step. Every breath."

She couldn't answer. She could only lie there, full of him, his hand pressed over her cunt, and feel the slow, steady throb of his seed inside her.

He watched it leak. He watched it run down her thigh, a thin white trail against her sun-kissed skin, and his eyes darkened with something that looked like hunger.

"Again," he said.

She felt her body tighten at the word. She was so sensitive, so raw, but she wanted it. She wanted him. She wanted to be so full of him she couldn't think.

"Please," she breathed.

His smile was slow. "Please what?"

"Please fill me again."

She felt his cock twitch against her thigh. He was already hard again, already pressing at her entrance, and she felt the slow, deliberate push as he entered her once more.

She gasped. He was so deep, so full, and she could feel his come mixing with hers, could feel the slick slide of him as he began to move.

"I'm going to keep you full of me," he said against her lips. "I'm going to fill you until you're dripping with me. Until everyone in Lindon knows exactly who you belong to."

She moaned. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and she felt him groan.

"Say it," he commanded. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," she gasped. "I'm yours, Glorfindel. I'm yours."

He thrust deeper, harder, and she felt the orgasm building again, a slow burn that spread through her like wildfire. She clung to him, her nails digging into his back, and she felt him shudder above her.

"Come for me again," he said. "Come on my cock."

She did. She came with a cry, her cunt clenching around him, and she felt him follow her, felt him bury himself to the hilt and empty into her again.

He collapsed on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, and for a long moment neither of them moved. She could feel him still inside her, softening, and she could feel his come seeping out around him, running down her thighs.

His hand slid between them, pressing over her cunt, sealing him inside her again.

"Stay like that," he murmured against her neck. "I want to watch it hold."

The hall was still celebrating beyond the walls. She could hear the faint strains of music, the distant hum of voices, but it felt like another world. Here, in the dawn light, there was only him.

His hand stayed sealed over her, his seed held inside her, and she felt the question pressing against the silence—whether he would let her rise, and how she would carry him through the hall, dripping with him, claimed in front of everyone.

She didn't know the answer. She didn't need to. She was his, and he was hers, and the day stretched out before them, full of promise and hunger and the slow, inevitable claim of his body on hers.