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Intertwined - Chapter 5

Daeron Targaryen x reader

cw: arranged marraige, enemies to lovers, loss of virginity, lack of experience, unreliable narrator, oral sex, teaching someone to masturbate, nervousness surrounding sex, tags to be added as the story continues

Masterlist

Ao3

Word Count: 7k

When you awoke, you were half convinced someone had attempted to assassinate you in your sleep. You could think of little else that would cause you to feel so distinctly like you were dying. Your mouth felt like it had been filled with sand in the night, your arms and legs heavy and painful like you’d been running and your head aching like it was being hollowed out from the inside.

You opened your eyes, a mistake you quickly came to regret. Each beam of sunlight that snuck through the window felt like a dagger to the eye. You groaned, arm flying up to cover your face. You wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep but the pounding within your skull seemed disinclined to permit that of you.

If the light was anything to go by, it was far later in the day than it should have been. Someone should have woken you by now. You reached out a hand to the other side of the bed. It was cold, but it often was these days. Whether Daeron himself was present or not, however, someone typically woke you. One of your ladies maids most days. Had you been so completely abandoned that they no longer wanted to do even that?

You called for them today, instead of them waking you. They eyed you almost nervously. You had no idea how you must look to make them look at you this way, but you could not look well.

“Are you feeling ill, my lady?” your handmaid asked, and you fought to keep a wince off of your face. “Prince Daeron told us to let you sleep a while longer, we wondered if you might have come down with something.”

“No,” you insisted, doubting you sounded convincing but needing to try. Everyone here already refused to take you seriously, it would do no good to fan the flames. “I am quite alright. Nothing a good breakfast cannot fix. Thank you for your concern.”

She gave you a curtsy and let you set off on your way.

The place you had been told to go to for meals in your first days here was, typically, empty. You got the sense that perhaps it was a guest dining room. Maekar had told you about it like Daeron was supposed to eat there with you, quarantined from the rest of the family. Daeron had yet to make an appearance so in the mornings, and then again in the afternoons and the nights, you ate alone.

Today, instead of a large, empty table stocked with enough food for one person, there was enough food for two, half of it sitting in front of Daeron.

He looked panicked as he noticed you arrive, eyes flicking between you and the food. He seemed almost poised to run, though if he was he seemed to decide against it.

“Good morning,” he called out. “Or afternoon, I suppose. Sleep well?”

“In a way. I slept longer than I had intended. I hear you had a hand to play in that.”

He hummed an acknowledgement. “I’ve slept off enough hangovers to know a good lie in is half the battle. Are you accustomed to drinking?”

“On occasion. I drank on the day of our wedding you might recall.”

He seemed dubious at that response. “Nothing near what you did last night though.”

“Not typically. It was… it has been a difficult few weeks. Surely you, of all people, cannot criticize me for indulging.”

“Does this look like criticism?” he asked, looking down at the veritable feast in front of you. “I am being kind. You could do with being more grateful.”

You had half a mind to throw something at him.

“The food,” he pushed onwards, avoiding looking at you too much, “is good for hangovers. Tried and tested.”

You hummed again, your head hurting too badly to inspire any other sort of response, and settled down beside him. You ate slowly, your stomach protesting against anything too heavy, but you managed to keep it down. There was also some sort of green drink, a suspicious looking thing, but your first tentative sip was not entirely unpleasant and it did seem to perk you up a little.

You spent most of your meal like that, you taking small bites and him avoiding addressing you for too long as if you had some sort of infectious disease spread mostly through eye contact.

You didn’t mind it much this morning. If anything, you appreciated the quiet.

When you heard footsteps, you expected another servant, perhaps here to gather the significant amount of food you hadn’t yet eaten. Instead, Maekar walked in and jolted to a stop. “Daeron. You’re here.”

“Of course I am, where else would I be? This is where you said I should be eating now, did you not?”

Maekar glared at him. “Don’t act like you’ve ever listened to me before, insolent boy.” His eyes skated over you before returning back, his brows furrowing. “Are you feeling alright? You do not look well.”

You did your best to give him a pleasant smile in spite of the bees that seemed to have taken residence inside your skull. “I am feeling quite alright, there is no need to worry about me. Did you come here looking for something?” The last thing you wanted was more attention on yourself. You had seen Maekar minimally, since the wedding, and you were sure this was not aiding in his opinion of you.

“I was looking for Daeron,” he said. “I was told he was in here, I simply did not expect to see--”

“You know what might help her not feeling well?” Daeron interrupted, seemingly uneager to hear the reason why his father had been looking for him. “Some fresh air.”

“Do you think that is wise?” Maekar asked.

“Of course it is.”

You perked up a little. It was a bad day for it, certainly, but you didn’t want to pass up the chance while it was here. “Can we go riding?”

This seemed only to baffle Maekar more. “That seems especially unwise. You are unfamiliar with the grounds, you could get lost.”

“Daeron can guide us,” you insisted.

“Daeron has not gone riding of his own will since he was first taking riding lessons. I’m not certain he could guide you around our grounds even if he was provided a map.”

“That was not of my own will, I’ll have you know,” he corrected. “I hated those lessons.”

“You hated all your lessons.”

“But especially those,” he insisted. “Come on, she can go for a ride. Gods know my horse doesn’t get out enough, we can take him for a spin. We wouldn’t want her to get ill from all this stuffy air. That can’t be good for her ability to bear children.”

Maekar sighed, clearly exasperated with Daeron but lacking the energy to fight him on this matter. “Fine, a ride should be acceptable. Don’t go out for long. And Daeron, come speak to me when you get back.”

He cocked his head to the side, a crooked grin on his face. “Not terribly urgent then?”

“I’m just pleased you’re where you’re supposed to be, far be it from me to interfere with that.”

Daeron pulled you out of the room before Maekar had the opportunity to change his mind. He led you towards what you presumed was the stables, though you had no real way of knowing; you had yet to be shown where anything was outside of Daeron’s chambers.

Someone had clearly been sent ahead as there was a horse, saddled and ready for you when you arrived. Notably, there was only one horse saddled up. “Where is the other?” you asked, looking around the stables to see if it was lagging behind. The servant hadn’t had long to prepare, after all.

“Oh, I’m not going. There’s nothing that could get me on the back of a horse. Frankly, the fact that you’re sporting a hangover and you’re willing to get on one seems ludicrous to me.”

“It was not too bad,” you protested. “There is still some pain in my head but other than that, I feel as fine as ever.”

“That is good at least. You’re lucky I knew what to do, you’d have been in far worse straits without your lie in and the proper food.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it, I suppose,” you conceded. “I have minimal points of reference. And, to be frank, at this point I think I would go for a ride in any state, I am beginning to go mad cooped up in this place. Are you sure you will not accompany me? I am certain your father meant we should go for a ride together.”

Daeron laughed. “Yes, I imagine he did. But I hate riding and you’re the one going mad from staying inside so this does seem the logical next step.”

“What if I get lost?”

“Then my father will assume you’ve run away but pretend to think you’ve gotten lost and send out search parties. We are not in the habit of abandoning princesses in the woods. Besides, there are trails and you seem intelligent enough. I have gotten lost before but I was drinking more and paying attention less than I believe you will be. I never took much to horse riding. You know, I sold my last horse. He got me this new one as some sort of revenge, I think, but I never take it out so it didn’t quite work. How strong of a rider are you? I fear it might be a bit stubborn.”

You eyed the horse. It looked tame enough. You couldn’t imagine they’d give the prince a horse they thought might truly hurt him and you suspected you were a stronger rider than Daeron from the way he was speaking. “Strong enough. Does she have a name?”

“I have no idea. Is it a she?”

“Looks like it. She is a beautiful horse.” You gave her a pat on the neck. She was well-maintained and muscled so it seemed someone was taking care of her, even if it wasn’t Daeron.

“You think? Maekar doesn’t like letting me ride it on my own because he thinks I’ll sell her again. He’s not that far off but to be frank, the horse would probably be happier with another owner. A victory for both of us.”

You pulled yourself astride the horse, making sure the saddle felt right underneath you. “Are you sure you can’t be convinced to join me?”

“Not a chance. I won’t mount a horse unless it is my last option.”

The horse stepped nervously, clearly ready to move. “And you’re sure it’s alright for me to go out on my own?”

“No. But what is the worst that can be done to you? It will not be half so bad as the things me and Egg do regularly and we have survived all of our scoldings.”

You eyed him dubiously. “Perhaps. But then, I am not a Targaryen prince.”

“No, but you are the wife of one. That must count for something.”

You were not certain of that but guided the horse ahead anyhow. You moved slowly, half waiting for Daeron to tell you he’d been playing a trick on you or for someone else to yell that you needed to halt. However, no one else arrived and Daeron seemed disinterested in you as soon as the horse had been spurred to movement.

With nothing else standing in your way, you set out for your ride. The horse was well-behaved to the point you began to wonder what Daeron had been on about in regards to his father and his alleged quiet revenge. Perhaps Daeron had been on a particularly calm horse originally, one that was not particularly responsive but nigh on impossible to get to misbehave.

The paths around the palace were well-worn and easy to follow. You imagined much of the time spent getting lost out here had actually been spent drinking and running off.

You stayed out longer than you probably should have. It was just easier to breathe whilst out amongst the trees, without all the walls and the people. At least out here, the silence was the only option. It was a welcome break from the unwilling silences inside the castle walls, where you were being ignored instead of being free.

Eventually, the sun began to dip below the trees and you knew you needed to return. You tried to brace for whatever might face you when you showed yourself, having stayed out hours, alone and with no sign of when you might return. You suspected you’d be lucky if they had not already sent out a search party.

When you returned to the stables, it was shockingly quiet. There was no sign of an uproar anywhere. As you took stock of your surroundings, Prince Daeron popped out of a corner, some pieces of straw caught in his hair from where he’d seemingly been laying. “You’re back?” he said, sounding half asleep.

“I am,” you said, dismounting his nameless horse and handing it off to the stablehand. “Were you in here the entire time?”

He nodded, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms. “They’d know you had gone out alone if I didn’t. Figured it was best to stay out of sight. Actually, I thought you might not come back at all. It was a perfect opportunity to make a break for it, I’d thought I might be giving you a head start.”

“Of course not,” you said with a huff. “I’m not a fool. Is that what you were hoping would happen?” Maybe that’s what this small kindness had been, an opportunity to try and get rid of you.

“No, absolutely not. If you did I would have had to help track you down. It would have been very irritating.

You didn’t really know what to do with that. “Why did you help me go then?”

“I thought it only fair to give you a shot. You could have joined the ranks of the great Targaryen runaways. It’s a very exclusive club. Egg would have been excited to have you. We almost outnumbered the others, we could have staged a coup.”

You laughed nervously. “Right. Best not to talk like that, I think.”

“Don’t worry so much, anyone who’s been here long enough to cause a fuss knows better than to take me too seriously.”

“Yes, I am beginning to understand that.”

You winced a little at how that had sounded but Daeron seemed far from upset about it, throwing back his head and laughing. “See, you’re beginning to fit in already.”

You smiled back, not entirely sure what had formed his new camaraderie but more than happy to cling to it.

But then, there was still unpleasantness to get out of the way, still things from the night before you’d been set on asking him. Perhaps, with him in this mood, you might actually get answers. At least he had not yet fled your company, which you decided to take as a good sign. You were hesitant to break this tentative peace you’d brokered but you supposed if it was so easily broken, it was not worth much in the end. “May I ask you something?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, blinking quickly as he took it in. “I suppose. It’s a difficult thing to answer without knowing what the question is.”

“What are your dreams of? Maeve seemed confused that I did not know of them.”

He winced. “Ah, yes. Well. Have you heard of Dreamers?”

“The prophets?”

“The very same.”

You scanned his face, looking for any sign of deceit or trickery. You found none, just a quiet apprehensiveness. “You saw the future then? Last night.”

“Yes.”

“What did you see?”

“I prefer not to speak of it. There is nothing that can be changed, all they serve to do is haunt me.”

“Would it not help, then? To get them out of your head and share the burden?”

“You know nothing of my dreams. Speaking them has wrought nothing but tragedy.”

You did your best to look penitent. “I did not mean to push. I only meant, if there is anything I can do to ease the burden, I would do it happily. It seems a lot to bear, on one's own.”

He seemed overwhelmed by your words. “Right. Noted.”

You nodded, not wanting to push any further, and gave him a small curtsy. “Now, if you will, I am in quite a dire state after my ride. I must clean up. Perhaps I will see you later, Daeron.”

He spared you a small smile. “Perhaps you will.”

You scurried off before anything had the chance to ruin the moment.

Despite your eagerness to flee, you had not been lying. After you ride, you were caked in sweat and dirt, in no fit state to do anything but clean up. You called for a bath, waiting as the tub and water were brought in, settling in front of the fireplace in your chambers.

As the servants left your chambers and finished unlacing your clothes, you sank into the bath. Your handmaid stood diligently at the side of the tub but you waved her off, more than content to be able to spend some time alone in the hot water.

The heat sank into your muscles, loosening up the tight, aching spots. It was nice to do something that felt earned, muscles pleasantly sore from actually using them for once.

The telltale creak of the door signalled your husband's arrival. He came stumbling in with as little care as he typically did before stopping dead in his tracks and staring at you.

You looked up at him, brows furrowed, trying to figure out what had stopped him. “Hello?”

His eyes flew towards the ceiling, averting his gaze from you in a way that made it more than clear that he was not looking. “Hello.”

You laughed, the sight as absurd as it was confusing. “What are you doing?”

“Averting my gaze. I did not know you were… not decent, when I entered.”

“I’ve bathed before, you know,” you informed him. “You are simply never here.”

You weren’t quite certain why he was behaving this way. You had been naked in front of him before, had been in far more scandalous situations than this, and he hadn’t seemed to care then.

Something in you enjoyed it, the way he looked away, seemingly put ill at ease by you for once instead of the other way around. It sapped some of the vulnerability from being seen like this, made you want to shrink in on yourself less.

“I can go, if you would like,” he said whilst seemingly carefully studying the ceiling.

You shrugged. It mattered little, it wasn’t like he could see it. “Whatever you’d like. It is your chambers.”

“Our.”

“What?”

“It’s our chambers. You’re more than welcome to throw me out.”

It was a peace offering, you were not blind. You recognized it clearly for what it was, though you were unsure if you wanted to take it or not. “I know I am.”

He hummed, eyes still tracing the lines of the ceiling.

“Why are you doing that?” you asked as you watched him intently not watching you.

“Doing what?”

“That. Looking away. You didn’t care last time.”

“As you will remember, I was strictly told off for the events of last time.”

“Not for that. Not for looking.”

“No,” he conceded. “It seems for the best, though. To be more cautious, so hopefully we can prevent another such disaster.”

“You aren’t going to harm me by looking at me,” you countered.

His gaze darted downwards, eyes locking with yours. “Perhaps not. I think perhaps I am simply loath to upset you, considering for the first time since this all began we have not been behaving like we despise each other.”

“I have always been set on getting along with you, you are the one who suddenly began being pleasant today. It is no fault of mine.”

An incredulous laugh escaped him. “You are a difficult person to get on with, have you been told that?”

“No, because I am not. You are the first person who has had any difficulty.”

“That cannot be true.”

You hummed in faux consideration. “I suppose Aerion does not seem to like me much.”

That pulled a real laugh from him. “Do not group me with him, please.”

You smiled, straightening up a little. The water, no longer quite so displaced, dropped an inch as you did. “I suppose you will simply have to get along with me better then. Or else I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”

“Well, needs must. I suppose I can manage something. Would you believe it if I told you that you’re the first person who has not liked me as well.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good, you’re not a complete fool then. Always good to check.”

You sloshed water in his direction, getting it all over his fancy rugs, the edges of the splash reaching his pants. He gasped, collapsing back onto the bed. “You are a violent woman. So many things I am learning about my wife this night.”

“You’re lucky this is the worst of it. I had half a mind to throw a roll at you at breakfast.”

He lifted his head a little so he could still see you from where he was laying. “A shame. I try and help you and this is what I get. A cruel reality.”

You smiled again, a bit sheepishly this time. You could not even remember if you had thanked him then, for getting food to help, for actually showing up for once. “Thank you,” you tried, tasting the words as you spoke them. “For breakfast, I mean. It was kind of you.”

“It was not. I was the one who worked you into that state, and it was my liquor that put you in that condition beside. My fault on two fronts, I think. It was the least I could do. And besides, I think you deserved some kindness well before then, as I was so insistently reminded last night.” He smiled through it like it was a joke but it felt like an apology. You hoped it would spell the tides of change, between the two of you. At the very least, he certainly did not seem to despise you with the same fervor any longer. If you’d known this was to be his reaction, you would have stolen his wine sooner.

He looked almost shy. It was a look you had never seen from him before. “Speaking of the night before, they were right. I have not handled this correctly. I could show you, you know.”

“Show me what?”

“How it should have been. What they told me to do.”

You pulled back a little, arms folding defensively over your chest.

“Only if you’d like to,” he added quickly. “I don’t know, I just thought I might show you what it can be. It doesn’t have to be like it was.”

You weren’t sure you believed him. It had been such a painful, violent affair last time, you were far from eager for a repeat performance.

“It won’t hurt,” he continued, clearly babbling nervously. “And you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. The last thing I want is children and as you have well seen, I have plenty of places to lay my seed. But, it didn’t have to be that way. I just… could show you. If you’d like. I won’t put anything inside you, if that helps.”

That caught you off guard. “You can have sex without putting anything inside you?”

He smiled a fond sort of smile. “Yes, you can. Come here, I’ll show you.”

You shifted your feet a little, tiny waves forming around you as you did. “Aren’t you supposed to take your clothes off too? It feels odd, being the only one.”

“There will be no need for that, we will be doing nothing that requires that sort of thing, I assure you. Now come, don’t be shy. However rude I’ve been, there is no doubt you are beautiful. Nothing to be nervous about.”

“That is not why I am nervous,” you snapped. “Do you think me so shallow? I do not know what cause you have given for me to trust you this way.”

That seemed to take the wind from his sails. “Right. Of course, to imply otherwise was not my intent. I only meant… I will be gentle. It will be for you, not for me, I swear.

It was far from something comfortable but he was reaching out to you. If you wanted to avoid returning to the state of your life with him before, you needed to reach back. You stood, hesitantly. You felt more exposed this way, the warm water no longer wrapped around you, the cold air stinging your skin.

He seemed to notice the way you shrunk in on yourself and grabbed your hand, pulling you over to the bed and wrapping you in a thick blanket. You should have felt bad for getting his bedding wet but instead you felt yourself relax under the weight of it, no longer feeling quite so exposed.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asked as he affixed the blanket around your shoulders.

You stared back at him. Surely that was not as simple a question as it sounded. He said it like there was some secret meaning behind it but if there was, you had no idea what it could be.

Your blank look seemed to be enough of an answer for him. “”Right. Frankly, I don’t know why I asked. I had just hoped… It doesn’t matter. Are you warm enough?”

You nodded, the blanket more than enough to protect your still damp skin from the cold sting of the air.

His eyes roved your face, looking for something there. You were unsure what he might be searching for so instead just set yourself on looking brave and self-assured, fingers curling barely tighter over the edges of the blanket.

Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find it,

And then he leaned in and kissed you. You saw it coming, your body stiffening, exactly as it had when you’d kissed during your wedding ceremony. At least it didn’t hurt this time, didn’t put the neverending taste of his blood in your mouth. You blinked hard, willing the memory away.

You forced your shoulders to relax, hardly aware that they’d even tensed up. His hand rose to cradle your cheek, touch soft and almost comforting. The kiss was a quick, gentle thing, barely long enough for you to force yourself to relax before it had ended.

He raised his brows, looking almost like a challenge, and then pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your lips before pulling back to take you in again. You were unsure what the gestures were intended to do. He was clearly doing this for some reason.

You had half a mind to lean in and kiss him yourself. Perhaps that was what he wanted. Perhaps it was an attempt to pull a reaction from you, to get you to do something a wife should do.

Before you could decide on a course of action, he was leaning in again, capturing your lips with his. This kiss was nothing like the first two, his lips molding against yours, his body pushing towards yours ever so slightly. His hand snaked from your cheek to the back of your neck, keeping you close. It should have felt suffocating, like being trapped, but there was something comforting in how gentle his touch remained.

You relaxed into it, turning yourself pliant and allowing him to lead. His lips moved against yours, gentle but firm. The movement became more intense as you went, turning into something almost demanding. You simply did your best to follow his lead, mimicking his actions where you could and remaining soft and pliable when unsure.

His stubble rubbed against your face, his skin rough against yours. The contrast of it made something stir low in your stomach. You wanted to pull yourself closer to him but were too nervous to move, lest you should break this trance the pair of you had entered.

You parted your lips slightly, hoping it would show your eagerness, worried your inexperience seemed instead like hesitance to him. He took the invitation happily, tongue licking over your bottom lip. You almost pulled back in shock, though the sensation was not unpleasant. A rather undistinguished squeak escaped you, muffled by his mouth.

He shifted back, seemingly scared off by your noise, and you mourned the loss of him. You didn’t really understand it, but you were sure you didn’t want it to end, this sort of closeness a far cry from your last time in bed with him.

The blanket felt secure enough around your shoulders that you let yourself lift your arms, wrapping them tentatively around his neck in an attempt to mirror the way he had been pulling you towards him, and then pressed your lips together once more. He seemed to appreciate it, smiling into the kiss for a moment, a huff of a laugh escaping him.

His hand drifted down towards your thighs, brushing over them, and you tensed instinctually, pulling them closer together. He pulled back immediately, hands raising placatingly. “You’re alright, I wasn’t going to do anything. Gods, I really have messed this up, haven’t I?”

Your breathing was coming faster than you’d realized, feeling a little dizzy. “It’s not… It was fine. Nice. I didn’t mean to react like that, at the end. You just surprised me.”

“Scared you more like. Glad the rest didn’t go quite so poorly. You like kissing then?”

It felt embarrassing to admit. “I suppose.”

“I have something you might like then.” There was something mischievous to his face, a tilt to his lips and a shimmer in his eyes. It spelled trouble more than anything but you suspected that some level of trust in him was required for either of you to move forward. It was an unfortunate realization considering you were almost certain there was no point he had come up against this realization and been forced to decide to trust you. You supposed it wasn’t his fault, though it didn’t stop the fact from grating at you.

He seemed to notice you were lost in thought, head shifting forwards to bump your foreheads together. “Where did you go? You alright?” His eyes darted back and forth between yours, seeming incapable of focusing on one.

“I didn’t go anywhere.”

A ghost of a laugh escaped him and you felt the air from his breath against your lips. “Could have fooled me.”

“I’m here now,” you insisted. “That’s what truly counts.”

He hummed. “I suppose. You know, what I have planned is rather a lot to explain. As much as I’d like to watch you turn red, I think showing you would be easier.

You weren’t sure you trusted his reasoning, though you were hesitant to pull back. Then again, it had not been unpleasant thus far. “Nothing inside?”

“Nothing’s going inside anyone. Don’t worry, it’ll feel nice. If it doesn’t just tell me to stop. Or just kick me or something, whatever works.”

“I won’t kick you,” you protested, scandalized.

“Alright. Just an option.”

“I do not require the option to kick you.”

He raised his hands in faux surrender. “Fine, no kicking. For someone who has no idea what they’re doing, you’re very bossy.”

“It is not bossy to not want to kick you, Ser.”

He huffed, clearly finding all of this very amusing. “Whatever you say, Princess. You’ll just say stop then, if you need to? Since kicking has been moved so firmly off the table.”

You nodded hesitantly, unsure what you were agreeing to.

With no further fanfare, he stood to the side of the bed, reached his arms around you, and then lifted you; something he did with an alarming amount of ease. “What are you doing?” you asked, your whole body tensing up.

“Moving you.” With no warning, he dropped you towards the top of the bed, the stacks of pillows the only thing that kept you from hitting your head on the headboard.

He did not stay with you, instead kneeling on the floor beside where he’d dropped you, hand falling gently on your thigh again. You fought the urge to tense up, doing your best not to move at all. You were grateful for the blanket he’d wrapped around your shoulders, fingers dancing over the edges of it, the stirring nervousness in you demanding to go somewhere.

He seemed pleased by your stillness, giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze before pulling both of your legs off the side of the bed, adjusting you so you were sitting up against the pillow behind you. You allowed him to manipulate your body, no sense of what you should be doing with yourself. It was a good thing he seemed happy to lead you because you had little idea what you might be doing if he didn’t.

He nudged your legs open, a reflection of your first time together. This time, instead of his hips slotting between yours, he leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. You couldn’t help but watch, confused as to what the purpose of this might be but entranced all the same. There was a sort of heady power to it, having him below you like this, on his knees. It felt less like you were hurtling out of control, like you would be subject to any whims he may have. He was still leading, still teaching you, but you felt less adrift and unmoored. You could not help but wonder if that was something he had intended or if it was incidental to whatever his plans had been.

You reached down, running your fingers through his hair. He leaned into your touch. His eyes looked bigger than they ever had, staring up at you through blond lashes. He pressed a kiss to your other thigh, this one open mouthed and wetter. Instead of the slow, gentle pecks of before, he began to suck on your skin and your breath hitched at the sensation. A red spot on your thigh remained after he pulled away, a mark he had left behind. Something in you enjoyed the sight of it.

And then he pressed a kiss, gently but firmly, between your legs. You did your best to smother a gasp, the sight of it seeming so filthy. Your stomach fluttered, your body at war with itself over whether to slam your legs shut or open them wider.

Daeron settled the battle for you, nudging your legs even wider apart, baring you to him. “Come on,” he muttered, eyes locked between your legs. “Don’t be shy. You’re alright.”

He moved forwards again, this time completely leaving behind the pretense of kissing. Instead, he lapped at you, licking a broad, wet stripe between your legs before settling somewhere near the top, sucking diligently once more.

Your hips bucked up into his face, completely unbidden, as a sudden bolt of heat ran through you. You tried to choke out an apology but before you could manage the words, he did it again, pulling a strained cry from you.

You felt the beginnings of a smile pressed against your skin before he was back to work, refusing to let up as he moved tirelessly between your legs, a coil winding tight inside of you as he did.

Whatever the sensation was, it was too overwhelming for any anxiety to be left in you, your body willing to do little but give into the feeling now.

It felt like an eternity spent there, with his head buried between your legs. You lost the will to do anything else, feeling yourself go limp, relaxing against the pillows behind you.

The more he worked, motions steady and unchanging, the closer the tightness in you came to snapping. You could feel it, begging to do so, though you had no idea what might happen if it did.

You almost felt consumed by it, unsure how something between your thighs could have effects that spread through your body like this, pushing a warmth through you and tangling waves of something pleasurable in your core. You had no idea what similarities this might have with how you’d consummated your union other than that it was occurring between your legs. That had been something sharp and vile. This was anything but, the sensation wrapping around you gently, slowly devouring you.

You rooted your fingers in his hair, hand closing tighter than it probably should have but your mind was fleeing you, far from capable of worrying about hurting him.

He didn’t seem particularly wounded, hooking his arms around your thighs, lifting your hips off the mattress to pull you up and closer to him.

The new angle and the display of desperation from him seemed to unravel something inside you, tension you hadn’t known you were holding unfurling all at once. Your hips thrust once more, into Daeron’s face, and his arms tightened around you, keeping you pressed together.

Waves of pleasure washed through you, your body helpless against them, unable to do anything but move in time with them and let yourself be taken. Your entire being was engulfed, every piece of you faced with nothing but bone-deep satisfaction.

It fled you slowly, the feelings lingering as if hesitant to leave you behind. You were glad for it, more than content for them to stay. Your awareness of your body returned, Daeron’s motions slowing as he felt you still.

He dropped your hips back onto the bed, pulling away looking dishevelled, eyes glazed and a wetness shining around his mouth. He took in a deep breath, giving you a wide grin, before dropping back down to press more kisses into your thighs like nothing had happened at all.

You panted, staring up at the ceiling above you. “What was that?”

Daeron was still pressing kisses into your thighs, which were now covered in a combination of his spit and whatever fluid you had produced. Daeron’s mouth also looked slick with it. “Don’t worry about it,” he muttered in the midst of one of his kisses.

“Don’t worry about it?” Your words came out sounding more displeased than you’d intended. You just didn’t know how he expected to do that to you and then refuse to explain it.

He hummed and you felt the vibrations from it run through your skin. “I think it’s still called an orgasm in women, I can’t quite remember. Doesn’t matter so much so long as you know how to make it occur. Hold on, I wanted to show you something.” He stood, knocking your legs open a little wider as he did before practically climbing over you to get onto the bed.

Your chest was still working to heave in air, all of your limbs heavy and a bone deep tiredness taking over you. “Something else?”

He nodded. “I got distracted, hold on.”

He manhandled you once more, though you minded it less now that your body had been turned to soup. He lay back on the bed before pulling you practically on top of him, sitting behind you so his chest was flush with your back, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders. He was careful, as he moved you, not to let it slip off. You thought you wouldn’t have minded it so much, this time, but appreciated the gesture all the same.

His hand shifted down between your legs, where you were still covered in sticky fluids. He pushed your thighs apart once more and you let them fall open with no resistance this time, the hesitance from before replaced by a lazy satisfaction. Then his hand was gone, grabbing you by the wrist and pushing your hand down instead.

“Can it happen again so soon?” you asked, hand falling limp between your legs as he attempted to maneuver you.

He hummed his ascension. “Women can, men usually can’t. Though I suppose I’ve had my moments.”

You had forgotten entirely about him. “Do I need to do anything?” you asked tentatively. “For you? You might need to show me how but I can try.”

He shook his head firmly. “That will not be necessary, I assure you. Now come on, try touching yourself. It’ll feel nice. This way you can do it on your own.”

You felt your nose wrinkle in displeasure. “Can’t you do it for me?”

“How are you supposed to learn that way?”

“You shouldn’t have done that first. I can barely move, you’ve sapped my energy away.”

He cooed in faux sympathy. “I didn’t know it was such a burden to you. Perhaps I shall avoid doing it again, then.”

You huffed. “You are a cruel husband indeed. Weren’t you supposed to show me first? How am I meant to know what to do?”

He tsked behind you. “Lazy little wife. Spoiled already.” His complaints did not ring true; you could hear the smile in his voice.

His hand curled, touching the same part of you he’d been lapping and sucking at minutes before. It brought the same feelings out in you, blossoming warmth and pleasure. You relaxed into him, body melting into his.

“Are you paying attention,” he asked, his other hand snaking down to pinch your thigh. You let out a little yelp in response. “You’re supposed to be learning.”

You leaned your head against his where it was resting on your shoulder, looking down at you. “You’re a cruel man.”

“Do it yourself then.” You thought, quietly, that you would rather melt through the floor. With your body feeling as loose and pliant as it did, it didn’t feel quite outside the realm of possibility.

His threats seemed empty, especially considering he displayed no hesitance or signs of stopping.

Despite the fact that you felt so loose, that tension in your stomach began to build all the same. Your breaths came quicker and you grabbed a handful of the sheets below you, desperate for something to cling to. Your hips canted upwards, seeking more to push you over the edge. Daeron seemed to read the signs of your body, deft fingers redoubling their efforts, the other hand digging into your hip, trying to keep you in place.

One more, the tension snapped, a release flooding through your body. You gasped, head tipping back as you felt overwhelming waves of sensation take over you. You felt almost like a puppet with its strings cut, incapable of doing anything but laying there, moved only by Daeron’s skilled hands.

It concluded faster this time. Instead of a slow fade it edged into something uncomfortable, the feelings becoming overwhelming instead of pleasantly encompassing.

You grabbed his wrist, unable to take any more. “Stop now,” you muttered, your words coming out poorly, almost sounding slurred. “No more.”

He interlaced your fingers, getting sticky fluids all over you. You scrunched your nose up at the feeling, uncertain how he was so comfortable all messy like this.

“I’m all dirty again,” you muttered, your head leaned back against his shoulder. “I just took a bath.”

“The water is still there,” he said, seeming amused by your misfortune. “You can clean up once more if you really wish.”

You looked over at the cold, soapy water and thought about how warm and comfortable it was here, laying against him like this. “No,” you said decisively. “I don’t think I shall.”

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