the dragon ought never lose
aerion targaryen x fem!wife!reader
summary: in order to save ser duncan (and your volatile husband) from this trial of seven, you decide you must correct the play that offended your husband so and do it the way he wants. you play the knight. you know who plays the dragon.
warnings: mature, sexual content.
notes: this is if aerion has a soft spot for his wife but still carried that stubbornness and arrogance that he is known for. also it's kinda long. srry lol.
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Getting Aerion Targaryen to rail off the track he’s determined to see through is almost an impossible task, but one that I always have to try.
I should’ve known the second his eyes laid upon that puppet dragon that I should’ve dragged him away. I knew it the second his head tilted and his eyes carried that stare he gets when something heavy weighs on his chest that this would not be good, but I kept quiet, hoping- praying- that my husband would calm for one evening that I was beside him. I had asked him to come with me to this puppet show anyway, and he knows how much I hate when he gets like this.
Maybe he'd behave himself as he does when I'm with him. Slower to sharp remarks and all.
The second that girl killed that dragon I should’ve stood. But I waited to see what he was going to say- maybe it wouldn’t be too brash. He isn’t always so cruel; sometimes very simple and softened statements come from those lips, even and balanced ones- I’ve heard them with my ears before so I know it’s possible.
But I was too late placing my hand on his arm softly. The second I decided to speak, a soft ‘Aerion, they’re puppets-‘ barely left my mouth before my husband’s eyes flicker to the kingsguards on the side.
“Tend to my wife.” is all he says before my arms are held back and he steps away from me. He doesn’t even spare me a glance. Not as I call towards him, struggle against the guard or plead with him to quell, that it’s just a show and they mean no harm. He doesn’t hear me. Or he doesn’t choose to hear me because his temper is riled up and my musings only hold him back.
When he starts twisting back that girl’s finger, I scream out so loud that I think it draws his attention just for a second, he glances at me with that fire in his eyes I very much hate, so full of darkness. That second it all it takes for a large brute of a man to come running in just before he snapped the girl’s finger back, punches landing on my husband’s face.
I yelp out again, very much glad for the intervention but worried for my lover’s life. The brute has to be almost seven feet tall, I can’t imagine the force, nor if he'll stop hitting him after he's down.
The guards leave me to reprehend the man as Aerion stands, looking evenly on the brute as he spits blood out of his mouth, the tempered stare in his eyes.
My feet don’t take me to him, they take me instead to the young girl still on the stage.
“Why would you throw your life away for this whore?” I hear my husband’s voice as I gather the girl quietly, quell her tears and usher her to one of the exits, feeling my husband’s eyes on me for just a second- probably a disappointed glance as he continues to talk to the brute.
Once out of the tent, I gather her hands and study them, my own hands a bit unsteady, checking for any terrible injury before I tell her to go.
Sneaking into the tent allows me to hear the tail end of a sentence-
“-start by breaking out all of yours.”
The brute is pressed down to the stage, mouth first, ready for one hit to knock his teeth all onto the ground, and I come to prevent it, knowing if I get even close to the line of fire Aerion will quell. He always does. If I can just reach the guard or the brute-
A hand grasps my arm and yanks me back. My husband, sitting on the stage and ready to see his revenge unfold happily, has pulled me in forcefully, almost like he read my mind.
“Aerion, please. Stop them, just a second to think-!” I struggle against him but he clearly pays no mind to my pleading. Not when revenge is in his sightline.
“You don’t have to watch, wife.” He says evenly, using his other hand to turn my head away, as he steadily watches the guards ready themselves, “I know you’re sensitive.”
“Aerion-!” I exclaim, bracing myself for a crunch, or a terrible sound to tell me something horrible has happened and it is at my husband’s hands once again, but instead, I’m greeted with something much more palatable.
“No! Don’t hurt him!”
Aegon. I can see brilliant little… bald(?)… Aegon running up from the side of my eyeline, and my husband’s hand turning my head away from the crime loosens, and he groans at the untimely end of his fun. Once I’m sure Aegon has ended it, I stand and push away from my husband, unable to be near him after he refused my pleas so, take one glance at him and leave the tent, shaking.
—
I don’t have the patience to talk to him again until I hear about his bringing of accusations against Ser Duncan the Tall, as I’ve learned is the brute’s name. A trial of seven.
I can tell he knows I’m furious by the way he pauses when he turns the corner, seeing me awaiting him at the end of the hall. His gaze is unreadable.
“I’ll not hear your sentimental pleas tonight, wife.”
I glare at him sharper. So that is how it will be tonight.
“You are acting cruel and unreasonable.” I say in an even voice.
He saddles me with a bored, uninterested look, and even a slight roll of his eyes, which enflames me.
“You know I hate that cruelty that you are so quick to. Why do you continue it when you said you’d stop?”
“I cannot bend every time you have a woman's sentiment about men's dealings. I ended the children’s foolery with the horse like you asked.” He says, and to his credit, he had. No other games ended with a dead horse. “This is not foolery.”
“It’s barbarism.” I finish for him, and he steps closer, narrowing his eyes.
“It’s treason.” He finished for me, and I meet his stare unperturbed.
“It’s arrogance.” I say. He studies my face with a sharp stare.
“You are quick to side with the traitors, wife. Not even concerned over your husband’s injuries?”
“They are naught compared to the damage my husband has caused.” I challenge him, “Why cause so much terror and violence, Aerion? Why do all of this?”
“No person shall deface my House or my name. Our name, in fact.” He spits, “That play was treason. You cannot convince me otherwise.”
“It was a children’s play, Aerion!”
“The dragon was slain.” He comes and grabs my upper arm, holding me to him as to engrain it in my head, “Just a generation ago, we had dragons. Targaryens carried and flew and bred dragons. We are dragons.” He is so icy in his words but the fire in his eyes is unmistakable, “Showing even in a stupid children’s play that dragons are so easily slain and defeated- that dragons are not encompassing and powerful, like our own House name, is to say that I am defeatable. You are easily slain. That this House is easy to topple.”
“If you think our House name is so fickle to be taken down by a play-“
“I think that we have have already lost our dragons and I will not let anyone sew any more seeds into the minds of these idiots that House Targaryen will lose anything else.” He seethes that through his teeth, gazing deep into my eyes.
There’s a bit of silence as we stand there, staring at each other. I suddenly lose my temper, and it seeps out of me as I start to see my husband again, the reasoning behind his terrible madness.
“What of this trial of seven?” I ask in a softer tone, which in turn makes my husband soften too, his grip loosening as he copies my demeanor.
“What of it?” He spits, still sitting in that anger lightly, “The oaf will answer for his crimes.”
“Aerion.” I begin, but he huffs.
“Now you are to tell me I cannot seek justice for being beaten by an oaf. Do you care for your husband at all?” He asks, “Or did you like seeing me being thrown and beaten?”
I have to swallow down my initial response of ‘You deserved to be beaten.’ for another time when he is not so volatile. I lean in closer.
“You do not need this to happen. This slight you say he has done was just protecting that girl- it was hardly treason- you must withdraw your accusation, Aerion.”
“The slight you refer to is attacking a member of House Targaryen. Your husband, I will remind you-“
“It is a violent game, is it not? You mean to kill him?” I ask, searching his eyes. I see a flash of ‘yes’ but he bites it down, knowing I hate when he is so crass and unforgiving, “Aerion, you mean to give me a heart attack to have me watch this.”
“The brute won’t be able to find six other knights to fight with him.” Aerion scoffs, “No one would risk their lives. I’m not sure if he even knows that many people.”
“He befriended your brother in just a few days.” I remind him and he sneers.
“That rat spends so much time in the sewage they were bound to find each other.”
I ignore the attack on my favorite of his brothers.
“And if he manages to find those other six? And you are meant to fight?” I inquire softly, holding his attention, “What will I do if you are hurt or slain?”
He narrows his eyes, accusing me with a little fire, “You have that little confidence in your husband?”
“I have very real concern that you could perish."
He turns his attention to a fallen piece of hair from my updo, tucking it behind my ear, “He’ll come up short and then he’ll be guilty and I’ll have his head. Do not worry yourself.”
“I’m allowed to worry myself.” I demand, “If you are forced to fight and you perish, then what am I to do without you? Just for a silly thing like this?”
“I would scarcely call this silly.”
“Anything that threatens your life is silly.” I say and he’s struck to silence for a second, studying me with a warmth that I recognize as his softening eyes.
He very much loves being doted on and looked after so closely. It’s why he truly does love and adore me, underneath all that arrogance and bravado. I care about his safety and his wellness and his perverted, mentally ill mind.
I lean even more into him and flutter my eyelashes, my hand coming to his cheek in a caress. I must end this. I must ensure that Ser Duncan runs free from my husband’s untempered wrath, because I am sure that if this duel were to occur, Aerion will kill him. Even against his brute strength. Somehow and someway, Aerion will figure it. And even worse, my husband could die.
“Do not risk yourself for this silly moment.” I plead with him, “I cannot bear to be without my unbearable and irritating husband. Who else is meant to cause me such stress and panic?”
He snickers then, his gaze softening fully for the first time this evening, and his hands wrap fully around my waist.
“You talk too freely,” He says, rolling his eyes, “I should have your tongue next, after I have the oaf’s head.”
I sigh, gazing up at him, “Please hear me. I know you believe the play was disrespectful, and perhaps it was, but I fear that all of this trouble will cause a loss of faith in our House more than it will deter those from rebelling against it. It might encourage or embolden. I just… I would like you to save your honor for something more pressing and big, rather than this small scuffle.”
I’m gazing up at him, giving him the eyes I know soften him and turn him into that man that I love. The one that says caring and thoughtful things at times and settles into solitude with me.
For a second, I honestly believe he might concede. He dips his head and kisses me softly, and then breaks the kiss and turns his lips to my neck, to which I lean away from him and allow him to graze his lips up the line of my throat to my ear. I truly think his next words might be that he’ll concede and withdraw in the morning.
Instead, a sigh and a soft, low tone.
“The dragon devours the knight at the end of the story.” He mutters, “Tears him piece by piece and swallows him up. He never loses, my wife.”
I’m stuck to my spot as he pulls away, tilting his head to get a good look of my face as he grins, and he places one more kiss to my forehead.
“Retire to our rooms. I didn’t mean to make your night so long and troublesome, my love, but I have a feeling you will need your rest for tomorrow.”
—
It took me almost an hour to gather just three pieces of knights armor. You would think at a tourney they might practically be lying around.
I curse myself the entire time, the metal clinking around in the sack that I’m carrying, exposing my foolish idea with every step.
My dragon is upset about the outcome of a stupid play, so perhaps we will have our own ending.
I return to our rooms knowing he hasn’t returned yet. He hasn’t returned until late these couple days, socializing and drinking and possibly terrorizing, which he likes to do more freely when I’m not around. He’ll always come back around midnight, expecting me in bed. Usually I’m sleeping.
Tonight I will not be.
It takes me about ten minutes to manage to get the breastplate over my torso and tying it correctly. I didn’t know how complicated all of this actually was. The tassets are easy, getting them around my waist. I step to grab my husband’s own wooden spear to act as my weapon and I keep it by my side as I slip the helmet over my head.
I feel stupid. I probably look stupid.
Every piece is too big on me, and smells odd, and weighs about half my body weight.
And I sit. And wait. And try not to sleep.
Thankfully it only takes about thirty minutes for my husband to return. As soon as that doorknob twists, I stand, the metal clinking and the weight almost tipping over.
I miss his initial reaction because the shade on my helmet slides shut at the movement, and I bring my hand to lift it back, just for it to slip down again. I figure I’ll just have to hold it.
My husband is staring at me with such a dumbfounded look I almost can’t speak.
“Wife?” He asks, stepping closer to me, “Lost your mind, have we?”
I feel stupid. Under his accusing and judging gaze I feel stupid.
“You said the play offended you.” I start, the metal clinking with my movement, “So I was hoping that maybe we could amend the record. And finish the play how it is meant to be.”
He is still staring at me with a dumb and sharp stare, his eyes combing from the helmet down to the tassets, letting the silence fill the room and make me even more nervous.
“Hm.” He finally says, almost as if he's weighing this all out, “And how is the play meant to end?”
I can’t tell if he’s goading me into something or if he’s actually asking.
“The… the dragon eats the knight. Like you had said.” I say, stuck to my spot, “You, of course, will be the dragon, and-“
“Where did you get this… costume?” He cuts me off, still studying me. I’m caught off guard.
“Uh… well, I asked Ser Dovan for the breastplate, and the tassets I found in the kingsguard weapons room, and the helmet-“
“Take it off.”
I glance up at him.
“Hm?”
“Take. That junk. Off.”
I blink at him, and he spins and turns towards the door, stepping towards it.
“I’ll expect it all off when I return.” He shoots behind his back before he leaves me alone in my silence.
I feel more stupid.
He’s rejected me. As I’m shedding the metal off me and tossing it in the corner, I can only think of how I’ve likely offended him, and I’ve lost all chance of soothing him and loosening his slight enough to settle his wrath and convince him to withdraw.
I thought he might laugh with me, snicker and quell his soul and play with me and see that he might be overreacting.
Aerion is actually so playful, in his own way, and not many get to see him like that. I thought he would like this silly idea where he gets to be my dragon, as he likes to say so much.
I glance up when he returns. He tosses a helmet towards me and I catch it just in time. His helmet. The same one he rode with this morning. The flame hair on the top and everything.
I catch his eyes again. He’s carrying his breastplate too, with the Targaryen seal on the center.
“You’ll never place another man’s rags on your body. If you are to battle a dragon as a real knight, you will wear your House seal.”
I blink at him again, trying to catch up that he’s playing along with me. A grin slowly spreads across my mouth.
He tosses breastplate to my side on the bed, an unamused stare on me.
“Are you going to play the knight and end the play how it’s meant to end or are you going to gape at me like that the entire night?”
I swallow and slide the breastplate on, finishing it with the heavy helmet, pulling the shade back so I can look at him. I stand with the wooden spear, and I watch as he finally lets a little smirk creep in.
Something about his wife sitting in his armor, drenched in his colors, just excites him.
“Puny knight. You would hardly win against a pig, let alone a dragon.” He spits at me, warmth hidden in his voice.
“Well, of course. I’m no match against a dragon. Especially a Targaryen dragon.”
“Is that so?” He asks, something twinkling in his eye as he steps closer. I turn the spear towards him to press the tip in his chest, preventing him from coming closer. He looks down at it, tracing it with his eyes back towards me.
“I have to try to slay you first.” I tell him, giving him a hard time, peaking at him through the slit in the helmet with my round eyes. He stares and stares.
Then he quickly disarms me by snatching the spear out of my hand before I can even fight back and shoves me with one hard push against my chestplate back onto our bed, stepping to crawl over me.
I yelp with a grin, the armor heavy enough on me to keep me down. He centers himself on top of me, gazing down.
“That’s- That’s not fair~” I whine. He slips my helmet off to get a look of my face, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
“This is how the story goes.” He mutters, dipping his head down to the curve of my neck and nipping at me, “Dragon defeats knight. Now I’ll have my dinner.”
I giggle, trying to push him away at his chest with my hands but he barely budges, shoving the helmet off the bed and nipping at my neck.
“Terrible terrible knight… attacking a Targaryen dragon?” He tsks, pulling away to shake his head at me while looking down upon me, “Must be stupid too.”
I’m grinning, stuck under his stare.
“Oh no~” I mew, “What shall I do? I’ve made such a grave mistake. Please, be gracious, my dragon.” He’s sliding off the tussets as I speak, tossing them elsewhere, “Spare me~”
“No.” Aerion says as a matter of fact, snaking his way under my nightgown, “No, must be eaten.”
“I- oh~“ I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence, as my husband takes a tasting lick right to my core, making me snap my legs closed on instinct. Aerion takes his hands and holds my legs apart.
“You’ll not obstruct my eating. Hold them apart.” He orders, and I do as he says, but I barely control myself as he licks again, taking a few stripes against me before drawing his teeth lightly and sucking on my clit.
I moan, legs shaking a bit from holding them open and letting him have free reign. My hand comes down between my legs and over my nightgown to try and reach for his head-his hair- anything to grab onto. Once I find his short white hair and pull, he groans, peaking up at me from under my skirt.
“Is the knight still fighting back?” He asks, narrowing his eyes before he crawls to meet my eyes closer, settling between my legs, “I’m trying to eat.”
I swallow, the air hitting my bare pussy as he leaves her on her own to meet my eyes.
“The knight knows she’s wrong.” I say, blinking up at him. I know he thinks I’m cute, although he would never admit it, “And she’s asking for forgiveness.”
“Dragon doesn’t give forgiveness. Dragon eats.” He studies me for a bit longer, before tapping the breastplate, “Take this off, knight.”
I scramble with it laying down until he finally helps me pull it off and over my head, throwing it to the corner with the rest, leaving me just in my linen nightgown.
“Yes, but perhaps the dragon can… rethink the-“ I stifle out a moan as Aerion ignores me, his hands finding my breasts through the linen and kneading them, like he’s making sure they’re there. “Perhaps my dragon can… rethink bringing me to my demise.”
He doesn’t look at me. He takes his hands and rips my nightgown across the chest, making me yelp, the cold air hitting my breasts for a second before he brings his lips and tongue to the flesh, dragging his mouth to my nipple.
“Dragon would rather eat.” He mutters against my neck, using his teeth to lightly tug at my nipple, making me groan, “Knight tastes so good.” I barely recognize that his hand is snaking it’s back back down between my legs until they’re already caressing my clit, lightly dragging against me as he sucks and kisses at my breasts.
I try to stay with him but my head turns to the side as I breathe, trying to focus as I close my eyes. I can only moan, and whisper his name, getting lost in him.
“Are you accepting your fate, knight? Just letting me raze you, what a sorry excuse for a knight.” He mutters, lifting his mouth off my breasts and taking his other hand to my nipple, pinching and making me arch my back in a whine, but his other hand on my cunt slaps down, hitting right on my clit.
“Down.” He says, his face straight as he looks upon me, and I rest my back on the mattress, catching my breath. His fingers continue rubbing circles on my clit. He watches me for a second, “Eyes open.”
I hesitantly obey, by head still turned as I struggle to accept the pleasure fully, whining. He gazes down at me, one hand circling my cunt and the other on my breast, but his eyes pointed on me. I can never tell what he’s thinking, his face is always so stoic.
“Don’t eat me, dragon.” I whine, my eyes threatening to close as I squirm under him, “Please-“
“Eyes up.” He demands, catching me as I roll my eyes back at the circling sensation from his fingers. I snap them back at him, my chest rising with the growing pleasure.
I don’t understand his silence or his demanding of my eyes until I feel two fingers press into me, so slowly that I can feel the distance between each knuckle as he presses in to stretch me. I whine aloud and I would’ve arched my back again if his other hand wasn’t pressing me down to the bed.
He snickers, watching me take more and more of his fingers into myself.
“They’ve sent a whore knight to kill the dragon.” He snickers, curling his fingers inside of me, “This knight’s cunt is so fucking wet. You like to let the other knights fuck into you, hm?”
I shake my head fervently, my eyes closed, unable to deal with all my senses at once.
“No?” Aerion offers, sliding them out and then back in, taking his time, “Then why is my hand fucking soaking wet? Surely, this knight doesn’t get so wet at the thought of being eaten.”
Little whines slip out as I try to answer, my brow furrowed.
“Knight.. wants to be… spared.” I manage out. He scoffs, pressing in and out again.
“Knight doesn’t get to ask for things. Knight will be eaten.” He says, and he pulls out his fingers for the last time, bringing the fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean as he focuses, “I do like playing with my dinner though.”
His hand goes to his trousers, unlacing them with one go and pulling his cock out just enough, stroking himself a few times. He’s already hard enough looking at me, his tip red and irritated.
“Open up-“ He smacks the inside of my thighs, beckoning them wider as he settles between my legs, leaning to scoop and bring my neck to his face as he connects and peaks his tip right into my entrance, making me moan out in anticipation and all, only tempered by a kiss near my ear.
“Settle, little knight.” He mutters into my ear, turning my moan into tiny little whimpers as I feel him press in further and further, stretching me wider and wider to accommodate him. He continues, biting and nipping and kissing at my neck as he presses into me until he bottoms out, and then he lets a groan out fully in my ear, “Better than a whore. Always better than a whore, hm?”
I barely even hear him, so lost within the moment. He pulls out lightly and returns himself much faster, coaxing out whimpers from me. He kisses behind my ear and down my neck, continuing that in an out at a slow, steady pace.
“Mmm, good, good knight.” He mutters, licking a stripe up my neck towards my ear, “Maybe… maybe dragon will keep the knight. Yes, maybe I’ll be gracious.”
I swallow, barely able to speak anything other than whimpers and moans. “Please~”
“You’d like that, little knight? You’d like the dragon to keep you?” In and out and in and out and-
I nod, breathing so short that I barely can catch my breath.
“Maybe in my hoard.” He ponders, pumping into me considerably faster. So much so that I reach to grab onto the back of his doublet just to have something to grip onto, “Would you like that, little knight? Always undressed and ready for your dragon, always staying in my hoard so I can watch you and have you whenever I want.”
That seems to rile him, as he drags himself from my neck and hovers above me just to move me to a better position, deeper one.
He pulls out for just a second to situate. I assume he wants me to shift, so I begin to turn to my hands and knees, but he stops me, pulling me back into him, his eyes accusing.
“Little knight running away.” He tsks, tugging on my ankles to bring me closer, “I like looking at my pretty little knight, you know this, don’t you? You’ll face your dragon as he devours you.” He pulls my legs flush to my chest, letting them rest on his shoulders as he presses back into me, and I cry out.
“Little thing, disobeying me already. How are you going to stay put in my hoard if you don’t listen?” He teases, pounding into me so deeply that I can’t even speak, reduced to whimpers and moans, “I’ll have to eat you after all. So sad, I would’ve kept you so full of my seed and you would’ve had so many of my little dragons.”
I must whimper in a way that senses disappointment, because he hums on top of me.
“No? You think you can be hidden in my hoard?” He asks. I manage to blink open my eyes and move my mouth to form words. Four light and breathy words.
“…And have your… dragons.”
He stutters his hips for just a second, my words short circuiting him for a second, before he continues his pace. He grins, angling himself deeper as he cups my head and brings me closer to him, pounding me harder in response to my little quip.
“And have my dragons. Yeah, that’s-“ He grunts, kissing my cheek and my ear and my neck, “That’s exactly what you’re going to do, hm? Stay in my hoard and wait to be fucked and have my dragons over and over, yeah? That’s how you’ll repay your debt, little knight? Fuck.”
It revitalizes him, he’s cupping the back of my head and leveling himself to get a good angle to plow into me, clearly chasing his climax rather than toying with his food.
“I like this ending better.” He says, breathless, “Knight tries to slay dragon, and upon being defeated, the dragon takes the knight as a breeding whore. Much better, hm? That’s what you’ll do, yes? We’ll do this over and over and you’ll fill my hoard with my little dragons. Unless you want to be eaten?” He razes his gaze over me, prying into my eyes for a inkling of an answer, “Hm?”
“No, no…” I whine, the climax building in me with every thrust he makes, “I’ll be good. I want to have your dragons-“
“Of course you do.” Aerion says above me, losing his edge as he creeps closer to his end, “Because you’re a good knight. Good and mine. All mine.” He dips his head down and bites down on my throat, a harsh bite, making me yelp out and run my hands through his hair to grip on the short strands. That’s going to leave a mark, if not blood already.
His hips meet mine over and over, somehow getting deeper and deeper with each thrust with no intent on slowing, “Perfect little knight. They must’ve sent you as an offering, a sacrifice, to the dragon.” He muses, “You were never going to slay a Targaryen dragon. Never, little thing. You’re only good for settling the dragon. Being a toy for the dragon, if not a meal. Hm? Don’t you agree?”
I nod my head fast and quick, “Yes… yes, I-“ It dies in my throat. That’s okay, because he continues.
“I’ll keep you. So gracious of me.” He muses, humming as his thrusts get more erratic, “Okay, little one? All mine.”
“All yours, Aeri, really, all-“ I choke on my own moan, my own orgasm catching me by surprise as he rails into me, my cunt squeezing around him tight as I mewl out the sound in my throat, my back coming off the bed as my hand shakes and reaches to grip something close- the bedsheets, his doublet, his hair- anything.
I just about scream towards the end of my climax, as my husband continues chasing his own climax as I clench around him, his hands coming to pull on my hair, pulling me in so I can be even closer to him than I already am.
“That’s it, sweet thing. Good, good, good-“ He hums, “Stay still, little knight, I’m almost done with you.”
My whole body is clenched, letting have full reign overstimulating me as I just lay and take it.
“Aeri- Aeri, please, I can’t-“
“Yes, you can.” He mutters, still plowing into me, “You will.”
I whine, clawing at him, but soon his hips stutter, and I feel the warmth grow inside me as he slows his pace, catching his breath.
“Fuck.” He mutters, his eyes closed and face buried in my neck as he spurts the rest of his cum right into my cervix, keeping himself deep so he ensures his seed is deep in me, “Fuck.”
I hold the back of his neck, holding him to me as he finishes, both of us breathing until our chests match each other.
After a few seconds, he lifts himself enough to look at me, still buried deep inside. He pushes my hair out of my face to gaze into my eyes.
“You are a silly little thing.” He says softly, his eyes softened with play. I blink up at him.
“Did the play finish to your satisfaction?” I ask, my voice a bit raspy from overuse. He grins, shaking his head.
“Better.” He replies, “I’ve never seen a play where the dragon takes the knight as a battle prize. Maybe they should end like that more.”
“The knight enjoyed not being eaten.” I say, giving a little smile, “How gracious of my dragon to be so kind and forgiving.”
“The dragon is not kind or forgiving.” He answers.
“My dragon is kind and forgiving at times.” I say, coaxing him into a space he’s reluctant to go, “When he wills it.”
Aerion studies me for a good minute, silent as he works something out in his mind, gazing upon me, buried within me and still reeling from his climax not five minutes before. He dips his head down and kisses me behind my ear, his favorite spot.
Only then does he slide out of me, coaxing a whine out of me. He takes the edge of the bedsheet and wipes himself before placing himself back into his pants, never taking his eyes off me.
“I only meant to check on your wellness before I drank with the Lords visiting the tourney.” He explains, straightening himself out, “Somehow you’ve hijacked my night.” He means to demean me, but the little smirk on his face says otherwise. “I’ll have to explain to them how my wife’s seduction tricks are worse than the whores in Lys.”
“Tell them I send my apologies for making them wait.” I say lightly, knowing he won’t let them know anything of his personal relationship with me. He guards me too close to him, too hidden.
He just hums, keeping his eyes on me. Always studying me like he can’t quite figure me out entirely.
“I’ll tell a maiden you need… tending to.” He refers to the state of my nightgown and his seed dripping out of me, “I’ll expect you to stay here until I return to rest. I’ll not be happy if you’re missing when I return.”
I nod, “Of course, I must stay in my dragon’s hoard.” I blink up at him cheekily.
He scoffs out a light laugh again, feeling the twitch of his cock in his pants waking up again.
“Don’t tempt me, wife. You’ll not survive it again.” He grins, stepping towards the door, glancing back, “Rest.”
And I do.
I’m deep asleep when he returns and slips into bed, and I only comes out of sleep enough to feel his weight behind me, the smell of wine coming off him.
“Silly little knight.” He mutters lowly, bringing his lips to the back of my neck and to my ear. “My silly wife.”
I only hear that before I drift back into sleep, comfortable now that my husband is at my back.
—
“What have you done with that mad boy, girl?”
Prince Maekar, my father-in-law, questions during breakfast. I glance up at him, startled with the question.
Aerion woke early and I hadn’t seen him in the morning when I woke. He chose to skip breakfast as well, opting to train early. I was left to my own as I so often am with his family.
I rack my brain with what he could’ve done. I assumed he skipped breakfast to train for the upcoming trial, which I was silently planning my next move to try and coax him out of today. I blink at my father-in-law.
“What has he done?” I question, concerned, “Something terrible again?”
“Something rational. Which always seems to trail back to you.” Baelor adds in towards the end of the table, “He withdrew his accusations this morning, sparing that knight and settling the matter.” He looks upon me with something in his eyes akin to respect, seemingly they’ve agreed that I’ve done this and there is no way Aerion had come to this on his own.
Relief makes my shoulders fall and settle, thankful that the major stress in my life has been eliminated.
“I’m very happy to hear that. I hadn’t known he was going to do that.” I say, picking at my food as I speak, “I just… had a talk with him, and hoped that he would see reason.”
The brothers study me with a curious gaze. Obviously, I’m not keen to sharing all of the details or in sharing of my victory over my husband.
“My Lady wife Dyanna used to have talks with me as well.” Maekar begins, “As you can see, there is no lack of our issue running around.”
I go a little red, swallowing. Before I can respond, he continues.
“I don’t care what you do with my boy, so long as you continue keeping him on the leash you have him on.” He states, “I am simply thanking the gods that the marriage I’ve saddled him with is actually settling his mad behavior. Do not let him shame this House further.”
“Of course, Father.” I respond, a little smile coming to my lips.
