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Bilbo smiled at Thorin, all his sharp serrated teeth leaving nothing to Thorin’s imagination. Not that he had to imagine the sharpness of those teeth considering he was littered with scars caused by them after all.
Out of all of his scars, though, there was one Thorin knew that if he caressed it, as he did now, Bilbo’s eyes would widen, they would darken, and his siren's gaze would be locked onto Thorin’s wrist where Bilbo had first marked him with those same teeth all those years ago.
“Don’t have too …” Bilbo signed, feeling both nervous and extremely excited over what Thorin had said he could do.
“I mean, as long as you clean me as you said and nowhere near my face, well, I think I shall be fine,” Thorin admitted, nervous himself for many different reasons than Bilbo was.
“I careful, promise,” Bilbo swore.
“I know. If I am uncomfortable, I shall tell you. You have done so much for me, I wish to try this with you,” Thorin reiterated. Whilst this was not something he would do regularly, even for his little siren, he felt it was only fair to indulge his love at least once with this, all he had ever asked for in their coupling.
“If uncomfortable …”
Thorin smiled at Bilbo when he gently grasped the siren's hands, careful of the other's claws as he raised each to his lips, kissing every claw in a way he knew sent Bilbo crazy with lust.
“Bilbo, if I am uncomfortable, I will tell you to stop, and I know you shall. I am not worried about that. Only the … sensation itself,” Thorin admitted gently, his face lighting up into a smile as he saw the way Bilbo was suddenly buzzing with his excitement.
“Get comfy, lay!” Bilbo ordered after he had gently extracted his hands from Thorin’s, urging his mate to settle onto the thick seaweed bed they had made for themselves, an act that always caused Bilbo’s cold blood to rise.
His mate was strong, sexy, viral and more than happy to put up with Bilbo’s eccentricities.
Mer were not adverse to mating semi-publicly, often taking themselves to a secluded corner to do so. Bilbo was much more private. He supposed it made sense, after all, it was common for sirens to eat one’s mate after having mated with them, and well … Siren copulation was often quite violent and vicious even if both participants survived. Not that Bilbo ever wanted to harm Thorin, but Thorin shouldn’t look so good with scars caused by Bilbo's claws and teeth if he didn’t want Bilbo to use them on him. A fact Bilbo had said to Dis to antagonise her more than once. Not that Bilbo wanted to even think about Thorin’s sea-cow of a sister right now, no, he had other, much more pleasant thoughts in mind as he rushed over to the satchel he had brought with him, just in case Thorin had actually been happy to carry through with what he had agreed to. And from what it seemed, Thorin was more than happy to indulge Bilbo, even if he was a bit trepidatious about it.
Bilbo wouldn’t begrudge him that. After all he was very aware that until his mate had insisted upon it, the idea of cuddling after copulation had never even occurred to Bilbo, so he imagined that until Bilbo had asked for this, this one fantasy he had that they hadn’t tried yet, well, it was probably even odder to Thorin than cuddling was to Bilbo.
Bilbo finally grabbed what he needed, stopping short when he saw Thorin stretching out in the seaweed nest they had made, his strong tail lazily flicking towards Bilbo, beckoning him forward. Thorin’s hair fanned out beneath him, ready to be pulled in the way Bilbo’s mer adored. Thorin’s body was spread out before Bilbo in supplication, in acceptance, as though he was a feast for Bilbo and Bilbo alone.
“Come, umazhûn (my sea-man). I am waiting for you,” Thorin said gently as he stared into the depths of Bilbo’s soul, finding nothing there but unconditional love and growing excitement.
“Wow,” Bilbo signed one-handed as he moved closer to his mate, ready for Thorin to know how much he took Bilbo’s breath away.
The siren slowly swam towards his mate, flexing his own tail as he did so, watching as Thorin’s eyes became riveted to the shine of Bilbo’s scales, his eyes roaming upwards to the round and plump stomach Bilbo now had, the plump stomach which was in part due to Thorin.
Bilbo saw as Thorin’s face lit up with the fact that his mate was round and plump and provided for by himself. Now was not the time to burst his poor mer mate’s air bubble, that actually, Bilbo was the one who collected more food of the two of them, because if he did that, Thorin would frown instead of look at Bilbo the way he was now, as though there was nothing, no other sight in the entire ocean, that set Thorin's blood on fire then just one glimpse of Bilbo did.
“You are very far away, Bilbo,” Thorin purred out.
Bilbo smiled once more, gnashing his dangerous teeth in his excitement and revelling in the shiver it caused to cover Thorin’s entire body.
Only after he had gotten his fill of looking at his mate did Bilbo gently swim downwards to settle on top of Thorin, their tails gently caressing one another.
“Sure?” Bilbo checked once more.
“If you keep asking, I will think you do not wish to do this any longer,” Thorin replied with a raised eyebrow, all but daring Bilbo to ask him once again.
Bilbo, as always, rose to Thorin’s challenge beautifully.
He let out a little huff before allowing what he was holding to float beside them as Bilbo crashed his mouth against Thorin's.
There was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was sharp, possessive and dark in the way that Bilbo’s teeth pierced Thorin’s lips on more than one occasion, causing him to swallow Thorin’s blood as they continued the kiss.
Thorin, for his part, was not idle. He gripped the back of Bilbo’s head, moving his own mouth just as firmly, using his tongue to scoop his own blood out of his mouth to paint Bilbo’s lips with, trusting that his siren would control himself enough not to cause Thorin irreversible harm.
All four of Bilbo’s gills fluttered wildly when he finally pulled back from Thorin’s lips, a line of blood connecting his own mouth to Thorin's, blood that Bilbo eagerly swallowed immediately, causing Thorin’s eyes to darken even more.
“Bilbo, amralime …” Thorin whispered, his voice holding awe as he stared at the ethereal being before him.
“Love you,” Bilbo tapped into Thorin’s chest, above his heart with his claws, digging them in just the slightest bit to hear the lewd groan Thorin allowed to leave him.
“And I you,” Thorin gasped as those claws dug in just a little deeper.
Bilbo’s teeth were once again on display as he smiled widely, leaving Thorin no doubts that he was about to be devoured in the best way possible.
Bilbo reached behind him and caught the dead fish he had fetched early, holding it in his hand as he finally pierced the skin to allow the creature's blood to slowly run.
He then gently lifted himself from Thorin’s embrace to slowly drift downwards, painting Thorin in the mentioned blood. Bilbo’s eyes were wide as he watched the most erotic scene he had ever experienced happen before his very eyes.
Thorin watched Bilbo in return, his gaze unblinking as he watched where those claws rubbed the blood over him, as he watched the way Bilbo’s tongue darted out every now and again to lick stray drops of fish blood off his broad chest.
Bilbo let out a soft, encouraging noise as Thorin allowed his hand to gently trail over Bilbo’s tail, a sharp contrast to the way that Bilbo was sinking his claws into every part of Thorin with one hand and continuing to smear his mate with the blood of the piranha he had hunted for this specific act. Bilbo had wanted to show his mate not just this prowess with copulation, but also that he would take on one of the most deadly fish around just to smear its blood over his one and only love.
Bilbo carefully covered Thorin in the piranha blood until the fish was nothing more than a bloodless husk and Thorin was painted like a masterpiece, one for Bilbo’s eyes only.
Bilbo quivered with a frantic need, a need that could only be quelled by getting his hands and claws and tongue and teeth on his mate, but like with any good hunt, he waited, watched, as Thorin squirmed beneath his piercing gaze.
“Bilbo …” Thorin moaned out, one hand rising to beckon his mate forward.
Bilbo smiled sharply once more, a smile full of dark promise and seduction, before he gently took one of Thorin’s outstretched fingers into his mouth, carefully nibbling on it as he listened to the beautiful sounds Thorin let out at even that smallest amount of contact.
“Bilbo, amralime, you will be my undoing,” Thorin gasped.
“Good,” Bilbo signed out before bobbing his head forward, allowing Thorin to feel as each of his teeth gently scraped against the sensitive skin of Thorin’s finger.
Bilbo then removed his mouth, ignoring Thorin’s groan of discontent, to gently run his teeth against the side of Thorin’s neck, scraping the skin as he lapped up the blood he had previously smeared all over his mate’s skin.
Bilbo’s tongue followed the patterns and designs he had drawn on Thorin’s body, enjoy the way Thorin’s muscles contracted at the feel of Bilbo lavishing him, at the way his lover tried to hold himself still, aware that one wrong move could have him seriously hurt, and still Thorin did not once shy away from Bilbo’s darker nature, from his need to paint and lick the blood of his conquests off Thorin's body.
Instead, Thorin whispered endearments and encouragement into the water between them, his own blunter claws digging into whatever part of Bilbo he could reach, groaning when Bilbo’s own claws clenched in his flesh in retaliation.
“Yavanna blessed me … with you …” Thorin finally managed to groan out between harsh gasps and what could Bilbo do with such a deceleration apart from reward his only love?
And so Bilbo allowed himself to slip out of Thorin’s grasp, following the trail of blood he had painted on his lover as he went further and further down Thorin’s strong body, being extra attentive to the curve of Thorin’s muscle as he traced them with his tongue, gently scratched them with his claws and revelled in the sight before him, Thorin covered in soft bite marks, sweet love scratches and his blood slowly bubbling up from the deeper cuts to be met with Bilbo’s tongue.
Thorin was now nothing but a mewling, moaning mess who had no clue why he had denied this to Bilbo, to them both, for so long, though Thorin was very much aware it would never happen again. Bilbo could lavish him with love cuts and bite marks, and that wonderful tongue of his doing delicious things to Thorin’s body and his nerves, whenever he wished as far as Thorin was concerned.
A thought that became particularly difficult to keep a hold of when Bilbo’s tongue finally met Thorin’s slit.
As soon as said tongue touched the edges of the slit, Thorin’s cock sprang out, slapping Bilbo in the face as it did so. Thorin had never had anyone use their mouth on him before, and the thought of Bilbo’s mouth, full of teeth that could rip it off in one movement if he wasn’t careful, being on his cock had Thorin shuddering with desire and want and need.
Bilbo was feeling much the same way. He was more than aware of his need to possess, to keep, to hold Thorin close to him so he never escaped. He was aware of how sharp his teeth were, of the fact that even though Thorin’s cock was hard and bobbing before him, it was also soft and easy to harm for one such as him. The thought of seeing that cock seep with not only cum but blood was a dizzying one to Bilbo, something he would ask Thorin about another time, for this time, though, his mate had placed all of his trust in Bilbo. He was laid out before him, soft and malleable and so easy to devour, and yet all Bilbo wanted to do in this moment was give Thorin all the pleasure he could. To reward his mate for the trust he was putting in the being, the predator above him who could devour him whole.
“Bilbo …” Thorin groaned out, his groan getting even louder as Bilbo dug his claws into Thorin’s tail to hold him in place as the mer undulated with the pleasure he was receiving.
“Enough … here … come here, Bilbo,” Thorin gritted out between his teeth, trying to use all of his self-control not to ejaculate all over his mate’s pretty face.
Bilbo gently removed his mouth from Thorin, carefully scraping the head of Thorin’s cock with his teeth as he retreated, slowly wiggling up Thorin’s body to kiss his mate once again.
“By Mahal …” Thorin gasped out as he felt Bilbo’s cock now nestled against his own.
Thorin didn’t know why, or whether it was a siren thing, but Bilbo was always wet, always dripping every time his cock extended from his slit.
Thorin wrapped one arm around Bilbo’s flexing waist as he reached down with his free hand, pinching and softly digging his own claws into Bilbo’s body before his hand wrapped itself around Bilbo, pressing the siren even tighter against his body, holding him so every inch of Bilbo was ushing down on Thorin’s body .
“I love you,” Thorin managed to gasp as he sank his own teeth into Bilbo’s neck, right above his gills.
Bilbo wrapped his own arms around Thorin, his claws raking into Thorin’s back as he moved his tail and hips so their cocks were rubbing against one another.
Thorin could hear as Bilbo’s breathing sped up, as his quick, sexy little siren mate moved against him in the perfect position.
“Bilbo … I will not last,” Thorin whispered as he latched his teeth onto the tip of Bilbo’s pointy ear.
Bilbo let out encouraging noises, his claws now digging into Thorin’s back, feeling as Thorin’s muscles bunched around them, dug in as they were.
“Fuck. Fuck. I love the way you mark me!” Thorin shouted as his release finally tore through him, the only thing steadying him being Bilbo’s claws still anchored into his back.
That had been enough for Bilbo, too. Feeling as his mate let go beneath him, as he lay with Bilbo’s claws inside his body, Thorin’s blood seeping out around the wounds he had made. Thorin’s vulnerable and softening cock still rubbing against his own.
Thorin tilted his head, bearing his unprotected neck, waiting for Bilbo to sink his teeth in. And Bilbo did. That moment of control, of knowing that he could rip Thorin’s very throat out and feast on his flesh with no one, not even Thorin, being able to stop him was enough for Bilbo to reach his own peak. He pressed himself against Thorin as hard as he possibly could. His claws clutching Thorin tighter, his arms pulling his love against his smaller body and his cock pressed against Thorin’s as he painted them both in his seed, it mixing with Thorin’s on both of their fronts.
Bilbo wasn’t sure how long he floated there in bliss, consumed by all things Thorin, before Thorin let out a soft whimper.
Bilbo wasn’t sure if it was pain or residual pleasure but he instantly started to remove all the sharp parts of his body from Thorin’s, being extra careful not to harm his mate more than he had already in the throes of their passion.
Thorin must have seen something on Bilbo’s face because he chuckled before reaching forward and wrapping Bilbo in his arms before his little siren could escape.
“I enjoy our mating every time, Amralime. Remember, I would not do this if I did not enjoy myself too,” Thorin reassured Bilbo as he gently settled the siren atop his pleasantly aching body.
“Hurt?”
“Not particularly. I think you're getting almost gentle in your old age,” Thorin teased Bilbo, laughing as his mate dug his claws in Thorin’s pectorals once again, reopening a claw mark he had created earlier in their lovemaking session.
“Peace, Bilbo. I love you. I love being intimate with you. I adore being marked by your love, your passion,” Thorin said gently as he used the arm not wrapped around Bilbo’s waist to tilt his siren's face up to his own. “I love each and every part of you, Bilbo,” Thorin whispered into the water between them.
“And me you!”
“I know you do,” Thorin whispered as he smiled down at the siren now curled up in his arms dozing off.
Thorin knew he would have to get up soon, that although the plants covering the opening of their cave would filter out the smell of his blood, Thorin also knew that peace wouldn’t last.
He knew that he had to clean up the wounds Bilbo had lovingly carved into him. But he also knew he had time, that he wasn’t in any danger. Thorin knew that even though Bilbo could have torn him apart and devoured him in every possible way, his siren never would.
Thorin basked in the certainty of Bilbo’s love, in the way his mate fought his very nature to be able to keep on loving Thorin. Thorin was aware that Bilbo often didn’t feel worthy of his love, of Frodo’s love, of their friends' love, but Thorin also knew what Bilbo couldn’t seem to grasp. That he was the best of all beings and thank both Mahal and Yavanna for him, Thorin thought as he pressed his back into the seaweed blanket he had created, enjoying the pleasant sting of the marks on his back, thank them both that Bilbo was his and he was Bilbo's.
That was Thorin’s last thought before sleep overcame him, too, before he allowed his mind to drift away, knowing that Bilbo was safe in his arms, but most importantly, that Thorin was safe in Bilbo’s arms, too.