Summary: Pregnancy leaves you restless. Baelor, ever attentive, takes it upon himself to provide relief.
Warning: (18+, nsfw, mdni)
Ever since the maester confirmed your pregnancy, Baelor had become even more insistent that you not do anything strenuous - let alone by yourself.
You were only a few moons along. The change was slight, little more than a gentle curve beneath thin silk shifts, yet he seemed utterly captivated by it. At every opportunity, broad hands drifted to your belly, lingering there as though they might somehow feel the tiny heartbeat of his heir growing within.
And tonight was no different.
The crown prince had dismissed your ladies and servants, insisting on drawing your bath himself. Crimson petals floated across the water's shimmering surface while fragrant oils turned it milky and rich, every scent chosen with care.
There your husband stood over the copper tub with a concentration usually reserved for matters of state.
"The temperature is just right, my love," Baelor said, looking up with eyes that held a softness reserved only for these walls. "Come. Let the weight of the court wash away."
Your robe slipped from your shoulders, pooling soundlessly at your feet. The moment you sank into the warmth, a long sigh escaped. For the first time all day, the endless maneuvering of court politics felt distant.
Kneeling beside the tub, Baelor shed his tunic and reached for a sponge. "Your feet must be aching," he murmured, warm hands slipping beneath the water to cradle one of your feet.
His thumbs found every knot of tension with uncanny precision, pressing into the arch until a contented sigh left your lips. He worked with slow, methodical reverence - fingers kneading, caressing, leaving touches firm yet tender.
"Baelor," you breathed, your toes curling instinctively against his palm.
"Shh... just feel." His voice was a velvet caress.
The atmosphere grew denser, steam enveloping you both like a warm shroud. He brushed his thumb at the ball of your foot, then leaned in and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the center of your sole. The feeling sent a surge of electricity up your spine, your breath catching sharply.
"You taste of lavender and salt," he whispered against your skin.
A soft hum escaped your throat. His lips began to travel upward, grazing the bridge of your foot before reaching your toes. He drew the first into his mouth, lips sealing around it with quiet deliberateness.
You flinched slightly, a soft moan slipping free. "Oh- please, husband."
The sensation was focused and intense, the wet warmth of his mouth a sharp contrast to the cool air above the water. He moved to the next toe, tongue swirling at the tip before drawing it in with a slow, purposeful pull, sliding along the side in one unhurried stroke, base to tip. A gentle suction followed, enough to make your toes curl and twitch against his tongue.
Heat pooled low in your stomach. A longing that had nothing to do with the bathwater.
"More," you whimpered, your fingers gripping the edge of the copper tub. "Please, Baelor, I want more."
He obeyed, moving to the smaller toes, nipping at them playfully with his teeth before soothing the sting with a swirl of his tongue. He moved with a slow, agonizing precision, ensuring each toe received his full attention. His cheeks hollowing with the effort, the sound of the wet suction echoing softly in the quiet chamber.
You had been bewitched by the sight of him completely undone by the simple act of tasting you. "You are so beautiful," he mumbled, voice muffled against your skin.
He finished with one last deep pull before pressing a final, tender kiss to the tip of your toe, then resting it gently against his thigh. When he looked up, his lips were glistening, a look of absolute devotion etched across his face. But it wasn't enough. You wanted more. You always wanted more when it came to Baelor.
So you lifted your other leg and pressed the sole of your foot against the center of his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart beneath thin linen. Baelor froze. His pupils blown wide, gaze locked onto yours.
"I said..." you sneered, sliding your foot higher, drawing it slowly up his chest until your toes rested against the curve of his shoulder. "...more!!"
You arched your back and tilted your hips, exposing the vulnerability of your form beneath the translucent veil of water and bubbles. The pleasure was building, a tight coil of tension winding deeper in your belly. You wanted more than just the sensation on your foot. You wanted him inside you - wanted to feel the weight of him - but the water acted as a barrier, a teasing divide.
Baelor's eyes traveled slowly from yours down to your chest, then further still to where you lay bare beneath the water. A low groan escaped his throat. His hand wrapped around your ankle, fingers squeezing tight, holding you in place.
Without breaking eye contact, he slid one hand beneath the surface. The water rippled as his arm disappeared into the warmth. His palm brushed your thigh, the slickness of the soap making his touch fluid, fingers traveling upward, tracing the line of your hip before finding the center of your heat.
He brushed your entrance with one finger before sliding in. "Is this what you wanted?" he asked, the words more taunt than question. Before you could answer, he pushed in a second. The sudden stretch of two long digits filling you drew a sharp, jagged breath from your lungs.
"Yes," you gasped, your hips bucking instinctively against his hand. "Yes! Yes, right there!"
Baelor groaned, his fingers curling upward, hooking into your sensitive ceiling. He began a rhythmic, driving motion, sliding in and out with a relentless rhythm. Each thrust produced a loud, slick sound, the water splashing against the sides of the tub as he worked you.
"How are you still so tight, my love." His thumb shifted, pinning you between the pad of his finger and the water's surface, grinding in a circular motion while his fingers continued to pump deep inside you.
The internal pressure built, your walls clamping around his digits, milking him with every desperate twitch. "M-more, Baelor..." you whimpered.
Baelor increased his tempo. His fingers curved, hooking against your spot with a precision that made your vision blur. The sounds of water squelching and splashing around his wrist growing louder, more urgent.
"Even with my child, and still can't get enough of me, hmm?" His hand was relentless, pace unforgiving.
"Baelor, please!" your orgasm was building. A tidal wave of heat crashing through your nerves. He pushed faster, fingers blurring beneath the water.
"Go for me, my love," he urged, voice a raw command. The squelching sound grew louder, more frantic. Suddenly, the coil snapped. Your muscles clamped around his fingers, pulsing in rhythmic waves as the climax ripped through you, body vibrating, voice crying out against the stone walls.
Baelor didn't pull away immediately. He kept his fingers inside you, feeling every contraction, every shudder, until the waves began to subside. Only then did he slowly withdraw, water dripping from his hand as he rose.
He climbed into the tub, pulling your trembling body against his chest, arms wrapping around you and your small, precious bump, holding you close in the fragrant, petal-strewn water.
"Rest now," he breathed, lips pressing to your temple. "I'll take care of you both." In the silence of the room, only the sound of three hearts beating in unison remained.
Gwyneth Berdara is putting the final touches on the gingerbread house she's working on with a special someone when a little playful encounter begins due to some strategically placed icing on her nose. She isn't one to back down from a challenge.
Azriel Shadowsinger ends the encounter as the true winner, though, with his mate wrapped in his arms, smiling and laughing. He's content and at peace with his shadows dancing around them in delight 💖
Many, many thanks go to @bluenefelibata for this stunning, gorgeous heartwarming holiday piece! Her creativity and attention to detail is seriously mind-blowing!! Working with you was a dream come true for me, and I am so happy we got to do this together 🥹🥰
I can't wait for Azriel Berdara to realize his mate is Gwyneth Berdara and then they have their mating ceremony, have lots of sex, and make lots of babies
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