Summary: Being the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, she had no choice but to let you be the one to confront Seasmoke's new rider.
Word count: 2.7k
Warning/s: s2 spoilers! canon events followed but strayed towards the end, not beta read so sorry for any mistakes!
Note: so hotd s2 just finished and i am absolutely in shambles and also in love w addam so i just know i had to get this out there. if i have the time perhaps, i could write for more hotd characters <3 likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are greatly appreciated.
GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!
Last evening upon learning Seasmoke had gained a new rider upon the sands of Spicetown, Rhaenyra was taken aback, especially with the events that happened regarding the late Ser Steffon Darklyn, a member of Rhaenyra’s Queensgard helplessly burned by Seasmoke’s flames with the hopes to claim the dragon by Rhaenyra’s idea of playing chance with folk who looked to even have a chance of having dragonseed within them.
Now this morn, Rhaenyra paced the hall as the council looked at each other as the news had been disseminated. Eventually, Rhaenyra halts and she places her finger on the table, looking at everyone. “There is no choice, I must ride dragonback to meet this new rider and know where they stand.” Rhaenyra voiced.
Jacerys was the first one to disagree, refusing to even let his mother out of his sights, the council agreeing. “Your grace, the prince is right, you would be left vulnerable if you chase the unknown dragon rider on your own.” Lord Baltimos agreed, Jacaerys gesturing to the older man to make a point as he looked back to his mother.
“Then what would you have me do? Seasmoke is out there flying the skies with a new rider that we know nothing of, nor where they stand whilst we are on the brink of war!” Rhaenyra countered, exhaling loudly as she rubbed at her temple with her hand, trying to massage the tension, though all of her body was tense.
You, however, had also been the one to receive the news early, now marching towards the hall of Dragonstone, the voices of countless opinions, risks and ideas being shared getting louder as did your footsteps, a Queensgard announcing your presence making the Black Council’s heads turn.
“Daughter.” Rhaenyra breathed. “Where have you been?” She said in worry, brows creased as you stood across from her.
But you did not even answer her question as you had already made up your mind. “Let me be the one to go, mother.”
Jacaerys, your older brother turned to face you next, and he was about to speak. Though already sensing what he was going to say, you spoke again to halt his words. “I know my way through Spicetown and its beaches,” you began. “Surely spotting Seasmoke and his rider is an easy task.” You added, since you’ve been known to ride out often on your dragon to explore, taking after your mother Rhaenyra to which the latter now could see the stubbornness she once possessed.
“Your grace, if I may,” interjected Lord Simon as he looked at you then back at Rhaenyra. “The princess has a habit of scouting Dragonstone and nearby islands, surely Spicetown had been one of them.” You offer Lord Simon a thankful nod before facing your mother once more.
Picking at your gloves that you held in hand, Rhaenyra could see the determination in your eyes that reflected her youth. “Do you promise to–” “I would get back at once if I deem the situation inoperative.” Shutting down her doubts, Rhaenyra swallowed thickly.
“Sister, you do realize what you might face?” Jacaerys then comes walking around the table to stop by you, his brown eyes scanning you as if searching for an ounce of hesitation that he couldn’t find even if he tried. You saw and knew what that look meant, both of your minds running over the memory of Lucerys, and you could not blame him so.
“Trust me brother, no harm shall come to me.” You replied, meeting your brother’s gaze, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving a squeeze which Jacaerys only sucked in a breath, his hand gliding to the hilt of his sword again, a habit he acquired when he thought deeply. He bowed his head, free hand placing itself on top of yours on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. “You promise.” He said.
Rhaenyra saw the interaction between her two oldest children and her chest panged, two of her oldest children forced to fight for their birthright and for her, their mother. “Then it is done, (Y/N), you shall seek Seasmoke and find its rider at once.” Rhaenyra voiced, though anyone heard the lace of care in her tone.
You looked up and nodded, feeling emboldened by the task given. Looking out the window, the sun was still high and up, and there was no more time to waste.
Taking a bow, you took in a breath. “I shall see to it, your grace.” You said before bowing and turning on your heel to prepare.
Once being donned in layers fit for dragonback, you quickly rushed to the hallway leading to the inside of the dragonmont, the atmosphere heating as well as the sight and smell of smoke filled your senses.
At once, the dragonkeepers had already called upon your dragon, screeching at once as it sensed your presence. Approaching the magnificent creature, you breathed in as you placed your palm against its snout. “Lykirī (be calm), Naerax.” You hummed. The dragon crooned and you looked it in the eye. “Ready for another adventure?” You grinned, before hopping and strapping yourself onto the saddle.
Breathing in, you nodded and tugged on your saddle, sending Naerax screeching before spreading its wings and taking flight, easily gliding out the mountains and out into the skies, Dragonstone shrinking from view.
It had been a while of flying, keeping your eyes peeled as you finally were able to make out the forms of Spicetown and the beaches scattered upon it, diving lower, you tried to find a sign of Seasmoke somehow, the silver-grey dragon seemed to be nowhere in sight.
Until you had rounded into a particular patch of land, sands white and unoccupied, except for what you had been looking for.
And there surely was Seasmoke upon the ground, a silhouette of a person standing in front of it. Naerax’s cries only further confirmed your thoughts and was enough to echo in the sky, Seasmoke screeching in turn as you quickly manoeuvred, circling the area before diving down onto the beach a good few yards away from Seasmoke and his new rider.
Your heart pounded in your chest, never really having a plan once you’ve found them, but you steeled yourself, quickly sliding off the saddle and letting your feet touch the sandy ground after a while of patrolling the skies.
Standing there, you couldn’t really make out the appearance of the rider but you had guessed it was a man, possibly residing from Driftmark.
The two of you stood in utter silence, only both your dragons roaring at each other, until he had the gall to walk forward, Seasmoke following in tow as you turned over your mind for possibilities of how this interaction would go.
Dragghar decided that the man had walked close enough as it sent a warning bellow, succeeding in making the man stop. This was the opportunity given to take a closer look at him, a tall young man by your age from the looks of things, having a skin of deep umber, face contorted to an apprehensive expression.
After another beat of silence, you began. “You stand before the daughter of the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms with a dragon of House Targaryen.” You shouted, making your voice firm as you kept your gaze onto him and Seasmoke behind him.
“I had no design upon it!” The man had shouted back, voice full and deep. You furrow your brows in turn. “What do you want?” You asked, “To learn the ways of dragonriders,” Came his reply.
You were about to counter his request when he did something you were not expecting at that time. He knelt before you, “And to serve the queen!” He followed, bowing his head down.
It sent you stunned, blinking back as you stared at him, still wary of his quick submission as the dragons continued to grumble at one another, with a sharp intake of breath, you slowly began to walk towards him, Naerax following suit, dragging his wings across the sand as it crawled, Seasmoke bracing as he roared at the two of you.
“You kneel so quickly, for a man who’s suddenly elevated.” You commented, gaze switching from the man to Seasmoke. “This dragon came to me, not I to him.” He responded, his gaze never wavering from yours, you had to applaud his integrity.
“I have sweated blood in service of House Velaryon,” He continued, pausing and swallowing before gesturing to himself, still knelt.
“I may appear lowborn, but I know much and more of service… and if the Gods call me to greater things, who am I to refuse them?” He finished, huffing a breath as he looked at you, willing you to believe.
The hand that was resting on the hilt of your dagger suddenly loosened as the wariness slowly started to ebb away with the waves crashing against the shore, the air feeling suddenly cool. Your feet had made the decision to walk towards him, stopping right across from him. “Is what you say true?” You questioned as you looked down at him. “I swear it, my lady.”
“Stand.” You said, watching as the man seemed to be flooded in relief as he slowly stood back up to his full height. Remembering your mother’s task, you straightened yourself.
“What is your parentage?” You asked, tilting your head at him, seeing his features crease before answering. “My mother was a shipwright. My father is… no one of consequence.” The last part he uttered with a tone of indifference.
Nodding, you continued to ask. “Your ancestors, do they happen to be of House Targaryen?”
“We’re not the sort of family to keep annals, my lady.” He responded, by now he seems much more relaxed, which meant the most since there was no ounce of hostility from both parties moving forward. “What is your name?” You asked as he answered without missing a beat. “Addam… of Hull.” So you were right in your suspicions that he resided in Driftmark.
Seasmoke grumbled in the background as you nodded. “You have done something my mother, the Queen, had feared unimaginable, Addam… the Queen will be most glad of it.”
Addam then turned to face Seasmoke and back at you, a small grin settling on his face as he exhaled in relief, nodding as the words sinked in, feeling somewhat gratified.
“Thank you, my lady.” “(Y/N).” You offered with a smile settling on your own lips. “(Y/N).” He repeated, never had your name sounded so pleasant before.
With this, a playful air began to take hold as you grinned. “Think you could get him to Dragonstone, then?” You asked, jerking your head to Seasmoke who grumbled. Addam blinked for a moment, never thinking to travel that far before, much less on dragonback. “I can try.” He chuckled nervously.
And so, you were delighted that Addam had sided with the Queen, your mother.
Climbing back on Naerax, you watched as Addam did the same on Seasmoke, the greyish creature letting Addam take his time as you rounded Naerax, tugging on the ropes as your dragon obliged, screeching and running before spreading its wings once more, a gust of dust left as Naerax took to the skies once more. As Addam and Seasmoke made it off the ground, you gestured for him to follow. “Sōvēs (Fly), Naerax.” You commanded, heading for Dragonstone.
Naerax calls out once Dragonstone comes to view, making you glance to see Addam following, though he didn’t look too well at the moment, making you laugh as you gestured for him to follow and show where to land the dragon.
After dismounting, the two of you were making your way to the castle.
Rhaenyra was pacing back and forth as Jacaerys had been gripping the pommel of his sword tightly, knuckles turning white until Baela had to talk to him to calm him down. At once, a member of the Queensgard approached and Rhaenyra snapped to look at them, face expecting the news as the knight bowed. “The princess is unharmed.”
Rhaenyra felt the tensions seep away from her veins as she sighed in relief, also with Jacaerys letting out a breath while Baela was glad of the news. “What of the rider? Do we know who he is?” Came Corlys Velaryon’s questions.
“He appears to be a shipwright in your employ, Lord Hand.” Answered by Maester Gerardys. “A commoner? With respect to your workers, Lord Corlys, the lowborn cannot go around seizing dragons. Has the thief been secured?” Lord Baltimos conveyed. Rhaenyra’s brows furrowed and she was about to speak when in came (Y/N) Targaryen with Addam of Hull, immediately turning heads as they stopped inside the hall.
“He is no thief, Lord Baltimos.” You spoke as Addam stood beside you, Rhaenyra then watched closely the man who Seasmoke now claimed as his rider. “Seasmoke had come to him and chose him as its rider, and I am sure no one in their right mind would face a dragon so willingly.” You defended. Glancing beside Addam, you nodded for him to speak.
“Your grace, I am Addam, of Hull…” he began,swallowing as he ignored eyes on him and solely focused on Rhaenyra, bowing, “I realize a great power had been given to me, and I may know nothing of what awaits me from this day forth, but I stand here now to swear on my allegiance and with the belief that the Gods steered me to this path, to serve you, my Queen.” He voiced firmly, never wavering.
Rhaenyra looked at him then at you, knowing that she trusts her daughter with her own calls, and if her daughter deemed him enough to come and lay bare here on Dragonstone, with his words so sincere and determined, Rhaenyra took a deep breath. “Very well, Addam of Hull.” She began. “He is here to remain as a guest, so as to be instructed in the art of dragonriding, teach him some High Valyrian.” Rhaenyra voiced. “With the help of maester Gerardys and the princess.” You blinked but nodded. “Of course, your grace.”
Thus, as the days blended, Rhaenyra had monitored Addam’s progress, further fueling her idea just might work as she spent relearning countless Targaryen lineages whilst Jacaerys seemed to resent the whole idea of other people who had the chance of dragonseed to simply up and claim a dragon, after having suffered to be proclaimed to be a bastard his whole life, but war was brewing and he as many others knew, needed the additional resources if they wanted the chance to bring down the Greens.
With you, you had taken your time with Addam, often alternating with maester Gerardys to teach him, often bearing witness to his fails and successes when you stayed behind and watched, thus this allowed a small bond to be formed between the two of you.
Now, you were with Addam again, at one of the many balconies in Dragonstone.
“Repeat after me, ‘rȳbās’, it means listen.” You explained, accentuating your High Valyrian as Addam looked at you with a hint of a fond gaze as he cleared his throat, repeating the command as best as he could. “That’s good.” You praised, smiling.
“A little more firmness to it might do good, but you’re a fast learner.” You added.
“Must be because I have an impressive guide, won’t you say so?” He grinned boyishly, making you roll your eyes. “You did not say that the last time you slipped on Seasmoke’s saddle and almost smacked to the ground.” You teased with a light shrug as you flipped the pages on the tome.
“No, no, my boot got caught on the ropes!” He defended lightly, making you both laugh. “Something really bad could’ve happened to me, have you not thought of that?” He jested, face souring in mock hurt making you nod and play along. “Oh yes, I have, but your squeals proved far more entertaining.”
Rhaenyra had been observing the interaction without the pair’s knowledge, finding it almost special as Addam had proved himself to be a man of integrity indeed and was quick to learn through his efforts, but now her daughter had a different certain glow to her as the days passed as Addam resided here in Dragonstone, and the two had only gone closer it seemed.
Even as the threat of war loomed, here there were still the chances of finding light in unexpected circumstances.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT — MDNI; p in v, slight choking, rough sex, praise kink, size difference, fingering, lmk if I missed anything
WORDS: 2.5 K
NOTES: I added the last 200 words and finally finished this. It's not beta read.
Except for the regular patrons, the tavern has been oddly quiet this night. Serving some ale and broth every now and then, you seize the opportunity to indulge in the cleaning of the counter, scrubbing down the counter and sink.
That is, until another patron chooses to occupy one of the seats right in front of you. “A strong ale, please,” he says, causing you to look up at him. He wears a blue tunic, the fabric stained with spots of water as he was probably out fishing prior to this. His hair is pulled up into a bun, yet some strands still find a way to escape.
With a nod, you immediately fetch a mug, filling it with the clear liquid. “Here, m’lord,” you say, pushing the mug toward him.
He takes it into one hand, bringing it to his lips to take a large swig. As he lowers the cup, he looks at you with a grin. “You know not to call me lord,” he states, his tone sly.
Mirroring his grin, you grip the edge of the counter with both hands, leaning forward slightly. “Well, what would you want me to call you, then? Ser?”
He hums at your question, taking yet another sip. “Just Addam is fine,” he says, dragging his eyes over your frame. “Is that a new dress?”
“It was a jest, you know,” you reply. Smoothing out the skirt of the black dress you wear, you give him a swirl. “It is, indeed. I have made it myself. Do you like it?”
Addam looks at you for a moment, biting his tongue as his eyes trail over your form once more. “You look lovely,” he says, softly, before quickly adding, “not that you don’t always look lovely.”
His compliment has your lips curl into a smile, and you stand up a bit straighter, before continuing to wipe down the counter. “You’ve been in here almost every night for the past two moon turns, Addam of Hull, you have anything to say?” There is a teasing edge to your tone as you look up at him from between the strands of your hair that have fallen into your face.
Warmth spreads to his cheeks at your teasing, and he tries to cover it by taking a large gulp of the ale before putting the mug down, chuckling under his breath. “Only a drunk man would admit he fancies a barmaid.”
You raise an eyebrow at his words, placing the cloth aside to resume your previous position again, holding onto the edge of the counter with your body slightly bowed forward. “But what if this barmaid fancies the drunk man right back, hm?” you hum teasingly, tilting your head to the side.
There is a brief pause between you, and you can see him pondering over his reply.
“Then that drunkard would be the richest man in Westeros…” he teases, leaning in to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
A shiver runs through you at the contact, and you can feel your cheeks grow warm. “You’re such a fool, Addam,” you say softly, turning your head to the side as your teeth dig into your bottom lip. “You would be the richest fool, and the fairest…”
“And the most charming fool, I would hope.”
“The one with the sweetest words…” you reply, words accompanied by a chuckle. “Perhaps I shall give you a reward later… for all the coins you have spent here.”
He has finished his ale with the last swig, pushing the mug away from him with a smirk. “Is that a promise?”
You hum, shrugging your shoulders. “Perhaps it is,” you say. “If you come by later tonight, I might show you the reward I have in mind… you know where to find me.” You take the mug, putting it into the sink.
As he rises from his seat, he bites his bottom lip, a poor attempt at stopping them to curve into a grin. “Then I shall find you later tonight,” he says, sending you a wink. With a subtle nod of his head, he walks away and out of the tavern, leaving you to continue with your cleaning and serving for the rest of the evening.
Much to your surprise, the tavern keeper released you of your duties around the Hour of the Ghosts, far earlier than usual. As you approach your small abode, you spot Addam leaning against the wall already, waiting for you.
“Eager much?” you tease with a smile, before opening the door for you two to step inside.
It’s not really a place for you to spend much time, rather just something that serves as a place to sleep and cook when you’re not working in the tavern. Yet you’ve done your best to keep it clean and enhance it with furniture and decorations you’ve either found or created yourself.
Addam has been here before. Whenever you walked along the ship hulls at anchor below the old Castle Driftmark, carrying far too many alignments or materials in your arms, he was the first to come to your aid.
As he tries to step past you into your abode, he brings his hand to your waist, stopping as he towers over you from behind. “Only for you,” he replies.
His touch sends a shiver up your spine, and you turn around to face him with your lips curved into a soft smile. As you get on your tiptoes to lean in to kiss him, your hands grab his tunic to pull him towards your bed.
Addam grips your waist as you walk backwards, all too eagerly chasing your lips to interlock your tongues. With your calves hitting the edge of your bed, you lose balance for a moment, only to be steadied by his large hands. Gently pushing you down on your bed, they travel to your front, fumbling with the laces of your dress.
With your hands still on his tunic, you pull him with you, forcing him to climb between your parted legs. He tries to push the skirt of your underdress up with his knees, but you’re quick to yank it up yourself.
Your lips travel down his neck while he is busy undoing your dress, your teeth and tongue slowly traveling his skin, only stopping to leave a few bites in their wake.
The laces of your overdress are undone, and his large hands make quick work of pushing it aside. He cups your breast through the linen of your underdress, making you arch into his touch.
As he moves back to sit on his haunches, you follow him, desperate to keep your lips on him. He has a hand on your rear now, supporting your body. Addam scoffs, more so as he feels your hands fumbling with the belt around his waist, and brings a hand to the back of your head, entangling it your hair. He tugs your head back to force you to meet his gaze, and you stare up at him with half-lidded eyes.
“Eager much?” he mocks with a smirk on his lips, repeating your past teasing.
You hum, raising an eyebrow at him. “Says the man whose hands are traveling to places they shouldn’t…”
You recklessly throw his belt aside, discarding it into the next best corner of your little abode, and his gaze flickers down to where your hands are tugging on the hem of his blue tunic already. He does not stop you when you pull it over his head, if anything, he helps you with it.
But you don’t get the chance to let your eyes wander over his toned body, instead, Addam is quick to mirror your motions, pulling your linen underdress over your head, throwing it aside. Warmth spreads to your cheeks, a stark contrast to the chill air that hits your skin.
There is a brief pause between you two, one in which he just bites his bottom lip, his gaze not leaving your exposed breasts, before Addam leans in to press his lips to yours again. You gasp at the sudden movement, pushed back into the pillows and pinned beneath his weight.
As he fists your smallclothes, tugging them down your legs without your lips separating once, the embarrassment is replaced by pure lust, a liquid fire that spreads through your veins.
He grinds his clothed cock against your cunt, and you feel him hard and heavy even beneath the linen of his breeches.
“I want you,” you pant against his lips, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
“Then you shall have me,” he replies, trailing his lips from yours down to your neck. You crane it slightly to grant him better access, squirming and shifting beneath him with a desperate ache between your legs.
When he leans back once more, you watch him rise from the bed to rid himself off his breeches and undergarments at once, baring himself wholly to you.
You inhale a deep breath at the sight, shamelessly taking in how his hard cock stands to full attention. Not able to hold back any longer, you dart forward to seize his hand, pulling him onto the bed again. “I don’t want you just standing there,” you tease against his lips, releasing a breathy chuckle. “Or are you just for me to look at?”
“We do have all night, do we not?” Addam teases back, a hum rumbling in his chest.
“We do–”
The words are cut off as flips you around, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you up with your back pressed flush against his sturdy chest. His other hand trails down your front, making itself at home between your legs.
You part your legs just a bit more to grant him better access, and start to grind your hips against the heel of his hand as two of his thick digits slide inside of you without warning. Addam has always been bold around you with that cocky and charming mouth of his out in the open and in the tavern, but never in your life would you have imagined him to be just as bold behind closed doors.
Bringing one hand behind you to the back of his head, you hold him firmly against you, moaning and whining as his fingers prepare you for more. His lips press against the side of your face, your neck – everywhere they can reach, even leaving slight marks at places where your skin is particularly thin.
“Addam…” you whine, turning your head to the side to capture his lips in a kiss, a wave of pleasure filling your belly.
His hard cock is nestled snugly in the crevice of your ass, and the grinding of your hips grants him enough friction to have him grunt and groan against your skin. But as good as his thick digits make you feel, you do not desire to wet them with your peak.
Tugging on his locks in a demanding manner, you moan against his lips. “I need you.”
It must have been the tinge of despair in your voice, but he is quick to comply, not needing anymore encouragement. Nudging your knees further apart slightly, he angles his hips behind you, dragging the tip of his cock through your soaked folds from the front to the back. It brushes your sensitive pearl, prompting you to arch your back and making it easier for him to align himself with your entrance, pushing inside in one, swift thrust. The slight sting that comes with accommodating his size prompts you to gasp, lips parted and head tipping back against his shoulder.
You hold onto the back of his neck to steady yourself, other hand grabbing the forearm that’s still wrapped around your waist, nails digging into his skin and leaving crescent shaped marks.
His free hand comes up to wrap around your throat, applying just little pressure to support your body, while the other travels to your breast, squeezing and fondling it heartily.
Your bodies work in rhythm, moving back and forth to meet each other halfway. His thrusts are determined, and there’s no trace of his previous gentleness in them anymore. Your moans and whines grow in volume with the increasing snaps of his hips, just hardly leaving any room for his own sounds of pleasure.
“You feel perfect,” he rasps against your neck, making a shiver run down your spine that has your walls clenching tightly around him.
His praise goes straight to your cunt, a renewed wave of arousal dripping down his thick cock and heavy stones. “Gods… Addam,” you whimper once more, and you swear you can feel his thrusts momentarily falter at the needy tone in your voice.
He pushes you forwards into the pillows, towering over you and bringing a hand between your shoulders to keep you pinned down. With the other hand now on your hip, he keeps them up, allowing him to ruthlessly snap his hips against yours.
“You’re going to make me–” your words are hiccuped, a hint of panic in them, “–peak.”
“Already, hm?” he teases, harshly squeezing your arse. Bowing forwards, he brings his hand down your front and between your legs, finding your sensitive pearl, teasing and rubbing it. “Is that so?”
You grip the sheets of your bed at the sudden flash of pleasure, fisting them tight enough for your knuckles to blanche. “Yes, yes, I– by the Seven!”
Your walls suddenly spasm around his cock, fluttering and convulsing in a way that makes it difficult for him to stay inside of you. Your body jerks beneath his tall frame, and nothing more than breathy whines and whimpers are able to leave your lips. He fucks you through it as you gasp and tremble, showing an admirable amount of restraint.
Any semblance of rhythm has left him at this point, a telltale sign that would let you know he’s close to completion as well – if only your hazy mind would allow you to process as much.
“You are turning me into a madman,” Addam rambles, a clear strain to his voice.
As he pulls out of you, your body collapses, falling flatly onto the mattress. He strokes himself twice, thrice, before his peak eventually washes over him. “You’re–You’re so good,” he pants. His hand keeps on working himself as he spills his seed all over your arse and lower back, raspy grunts and groans leaving his lips.
Your chests heave in tandem when Addam falls into the spot beside you, desperately trying to catch his breath again.
He is the first one to break the silence. “Do you offer this kind of reward to every one of your patrons?” Addam teases, looking over at you with a smirk on his lips.
Rolling your eyes, a huff escapes your lips. “Of course,” you tease as well, nudging his shoulder. “They call me The Sweet Siren of Hull for a reason.”
Addam hums at your words, wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer in response to your nudging. “I don’t know if the other patrons can make my pretty siren moan as I can, though…” he teases.
You rest your chin on his chest, gazing into his eyes. “And what makes you so special?” you as coyly, moving your hand over the side of his body.
Combing his fingers through your hair, he bites his tongue to stop his lips from curving into a smirk. “Oh, you’ll be in for a big surprise on the morrow, sweet siren.”
