pairing: Aemond Thargaryen x niece!reader
summary: Aemond sends everyone out of the room so he can fuck you on the dining table.
warnings: nice x uncle, unprotected p in v (wrap it before u tap it), rough sex, sex on a table, oral (m receiving)
a/n: I'll just post this and never talk about it again.
You sat in the half-lit dining room with your parents, Rhaenyra and Daemon, as well as your soon-to-be husband, Aemond, and his family.
You leaned over to your mother and asked quietly.
„Why is he staring at me?“
Rhaenyra followed your eyes and now looked into the ice-cold eye of Aemond herself. A cold shiver went down her spine, and she quickly turned her gaze.
Aemond's violet, shimmering eyes never left your face as you turned your head away from him as well and looked at the ground next to your mother's chair.
„Perhaps because you are the most interesting thing in this room at the moment, love,“ Aemond answered with a self-assuring grin on his face as he took a sip of his glass. His voice was low and almost teasing.
„Mind your matters, Aemond. I'm sure she is not used to such... attention.“
Alicent's stiff tone interrupted his thoughts of you naked under him, and he finally pulled away his eyes.
„Well, then she better get used to it.“
Your body began to slightly tremble at his sharp words, knowing that he was probably right about you needing to get used to such comments.
Suddenly his chair scraped over the wooden floor, and Aemond stood up, slowly walking around the table while tracing over the backs of the chairs with one hand until he stopped behind you and placed his hands on your clothed shoulders.
„It would be nice of you all to leave the room now. I'd like to have a conversation with my wife in private.“
„Soon-to-be-wife,“ you quickly corrected him, but your words were drowned by the fear in your voice.
Daemon clenched his jaw and looked at you.
„Daemon,“ Rhaenyra whispered to calm him down and took his hand in hers. „She's a grown-up; she will be alright,“
Daemon just nodded and followed the others out of the dining room.
Aemond still wore his faint smile, which he had put on after you had corrected him. He leaned down so you were able to feel his heated breath against your ear as he continued to speak.
„Such insolence to correct me, dear niece. I think it would be wise to teach you some manners.“ He now sounded darker, as if that little correction of yours had snapped something in him.
Aemond's fingers dug into your shoulders, pressing you forward until your chest met the polished wood of the dining table. He shoved the plates and goblets aside with a single sweep of his arm, the clatter echoing through the empty room. „On the table. Now.“ His voice was a low growl against your ear.
You scrambled up, knees sliding across the surface as he yanked your skirts up around your waist. The cool air hit your bare skin before his hands did, spreading your thighs wide. He stepped between them, already freeing his cock from his breeches. The thick head pressed against your entrance without warning, and he drove in with one hard thrust.
„Fuck,“ he hissed, burying himself to the hilt. Your pussy clenched around him as he started pounding, hips snapping forward so the table rocked beneath you. Each stroke forced a wet sound from your body, his cock stretching you open again and again. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other gripped your hip hard enough to bruise.
„You think you can correct me in front of them?“ he snarled, leaning over you. His teeth sank into the side of your neck as he fucked you deeper, the slap of skin on skin filling the half-lit room. „You're mine, niece. My wife. My cunt to use whenever I want.“ He pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back in, making your whole body jolt.
Aemond released your wrists only to flip you onto your stomach. He dragged your ass to the edge of the table, spread you wider, and thrust back inside. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles while he railed you from behind. „Take it. Every inch. You're going to come on my cock right here where anyone could walk in.“
Your moans grew louder as he pounded faster, the table creaking under the force. He leaned down, biting your shoulder through your dress while his cock twitched inside you. „Squeeze me. Milk it out.“ His pace turned brutal, each thrust pushing you closer until your walls fluttered and you came hard around him, pussy pulsing and dripping down your thighs.
Aemond didn't stop. He fucked you through it, chasing his own release until he buried himself deep and came with a groan, flooding your cunt with hot spurts. He stayed inside you, breathing heavy against your back, one hand still gripping your ass.
„Good girl,“ he muttered, pulling out slowly so his cum leaked from your used hole. „Now clean it up with your mouth before they come back.“
The command hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Aemond stepped back, the sudden absence of his heat leaving you shivering against the cold wood of the table. He didn't offer a hand to help you down; instead, he stood with his legs braced, watching you with that singular, piercing eye, his chest still heaving from the exertion.
You slid off the table, your legs trembling and weak. As your feet hit the floor, the mixture of his seed and your own arousal escaped you in a slow, thick drip, sliding down the inside of your thigh. You looked up at him, seeing the predatory satisfaction etched into his features.
„Now,“ he reminded you, his voice returning to that smooth, dangerous cadence.
You knelt before him on the stone floor, the cold seeping into your knees. The sight of him - still half-dressed, his cock glistening and twitching slightly as it settled - was overwhelming. You reached out, your fingers shaking as you gripped the base of his shaft, feeling the lingering throb of his pulse beneath the skin.
As you leaned in, the scent of sex and musk filled your senses. You swiped your tongue along the length of him, tasting the salt and the metallic tang of his release. Aemond let out a sharp, jagged breath, his hand coming down to tangle in your hair, gripping tight to tilt your head back. He wanted to see your face as you served him.
„Every drop,“ he murmured, his fingers tightening in your locks, forcing you deeper.
You took him into your mouth, your throat tightening around the girth of him. You worked your tongue around the crown, cleaning the remaining traces of his cum with slow, deliberate laps. The friction of your lips and the warmth of your mouth caused him to stiffen; despite having just finished, he was already reacting to your submission.
He groaned, a low sound of approval that vibrated through his frame. He began to move his hips slightly, a slow, grinding motion that pushed him deeper into your throat, asserting his dominance even in the aftermath. He wasn't just letting you clean him; he was reclaiming the pleasure.
„You enjoy this, don't you?“ he hissed, his grip on your hair tightening as he pushed you to the limit of your breath. „Knowing that while they sit in the next room, you're on your knees, tasting me.“
Just then, the distant sound of laughter and footsteps echoed from the corridor - the others were returning. The sudden spike of panic sent a jolt through you, but Aemond didn't pull away immediately. He held you there for a few heart-stopping seconds longer, forcing you to endure the risk, before he abruptly yanked himself out of your mouth.
He stepped back, quickly adjusting his breeches with a practiced efficiency. He looked down at you - disheveled, flushed, and trembling on the floor - and a cruel, small smile touched his lips.
„Get up,“ he commanded, his voice now perfectly composed, as if the violence of the last ten minutes had never happened. „Fix your dress. If a single smudge of me remains on your skin when we walk back in there, I'll ensure you spend the rest of the night on your knees.“
As you scrambled to your feet, your fingers fumbling with the fabric of your skirts, the coldness in Aemond’s gaze shifted. The predatory edge didn't vanish entirely- it was simply tempered by something softer, a flicker of something that looked almost like tenderness.
He watched you struggle for a moment, your chest still heaving, before he stepped forward. Instead of the sharp command you expected, his hand reached out, his long fingers gently cupping your jaw. He tilted your face up to his, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, which was still swollen and glistening from his cock.
„Look at you,“ he murmured, his voice no longer a growl, but a low, intimate caress. „Completely undone.“
The harshness of his earlier demeanor had melted into a possessive warmth. He didn't just let you fix yourself; he stepped behind you, his large hands sliding over your hips to help smooth the fabric of your dress back into place. His palms were warm against your skin, and as he tucked the fabric, he let his fingers linger, grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs where his seed was still drying.
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against the nape of your neck. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the steady thrum of his heart slowing down. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the spot where he had bitten you earlier, his lips soothing the stinging skin.
„You were exquisite,“ he whispered against your skin, his breath warm and smelling of wine and desire. „The way you clenched around me... I could feel every pulse of your body. You drive me to madness, niece.“
The transition was jarring but intoxicating. The man who had just railed you against a table with brutal intensity was now holding you with a careful, almost reverent touch. He turned you around in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest. For a moment, the power dynamic shifted from one of sheer dominance to one of deep, hungry connection.
He reached into the pocket of his doublet and produced a clean silk handkerchief. With an unexpected gentleness, he took your hand and wiped a stray smudge of moisture from your wrist, his touch light and attentive.
„I know I am harsh with you,“ he said, his singular eye searching yours, a rare moment of vulnerability surfacing. „But the thought of anyone else even glancing at you the way I do... it makes me want to burn the world down.“
He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was entirely different from the sex - it was slow, deep, and tasting of a desperate sort of longing. It wasn't a claim; it was a promise.
When he finally pulled back, he gave your waist a final, affectionate squeeze. He stepped back just enough to give you space to breathe, but his expression remained soft.
„Take a moment to compose yourself,“ he said softly, his voice returning to its usual poise, though the edge was gone. „I will step out first and distract them. Take your time. I want you to walk back in there looking like a queen, knowing exactly what I did to you beneath this table.“
