dunk folding you into a mating press in the humid summer rain for hours on end. (1.2k words)
it's summer, and it's humid, and of course it had started to rain. there's no stormy winds, thank the gods, and the blazing summer sun still managed to make you both squint out at the light as it shines through the clouds. they are simply rain clouds, after all, a shower of rain to water the earth for a moment before they move on for the sun to continue its duties in making life miserable for anyone outside.
dunk has you on your back—cushioned by all of his clothes and blankets along with yours—with your knees hooked over the bend of his elbows on either side of you. his body completely blanks yours, not an inch of sweat-slicked skin left untouched by him, and his hips rolling and grinding into yours. the dark hairs that frame the cock that's hardly even leaving your slick, oversensitive cunt are creating an addictive friction against your swollen, twitching clit. his hips don't even lift up, they just flex back and forth, dragging against your puffy centre and his thick cock keeping you nice and full as he rocks into you.
he's made you cum twice already like this. with his face pressed into your hair, breathing the scent of you in with every gasp and pant, and his hands under your shoulders to press you against him tighter. you have your arms wrapped around his neck. sometimes you thread your fingers through his hair and scratch his scalp the way you know drives him crazy, but you mostly lazily hold onto him, trying with all your might to press him closer as well. he's so close, pressed so tightly to you that you don't even have to lift your head to rest the bridge of your nose against his collarbone. his big, hairy thighs shift under the swell of your hips with every rolling thrust, cradling your hips that lie elevated for him by the blankets he placed you on.
the sounds you both make are as soft as the rain around you. tender sighs that whisper across his skin, and sweet hums that roll down each dip and divot of his back. he noses his way further into your hair, presses long kisses to the sensitive skin above your ear and whines your name as if he can't find you.
the slow, steady grind of his hips kindly stokes the fire within you. there's no building tension that demands to be seen to, only the feeling of your sweat-slicked bodies moving against one another in the humid rain under a great tree keeping you safe.
you can hardly keep your eyes open at the feeling of his thick cock—consistently, steadily, with a breathtaking precision—hitting the entrance of your womb, still managing to stretch you out no matter how many times he takes you. there's no burn, only a fullness that has your head spinning from how little he's pulling out before shoving himself back in again. despite the slow and steady pace, he manages to knock the breath out of you in a way that's had your eyes rolled back since he made that first delicious thrust into you.
the fire he's been feeding and been paying close attention to has slowly started to build. the warmth growing as if you had started to simmer, getting close to a boil, and he can feel it in the way your hips start to rock into his from where he has you pressed into the pile of blankets that have become damp from how long he's had you like this, and how many times he's made you cum. you let out a long and satisfied hum when you feel the boil, feel the sweat on your forehead and brow run down into your hairline, and you mouth at the flushed and freckled skin of his neck with your teeth. dunk whines, m'darlin', and keeps his pace the same even though you've started to clench around him like a vice.
he presses you closer, his lips at your ear making you shiver when you feel him pant and gasp. you're both usually so loud when he's making you feel good, debauched sounds filling the forest or the shitty room of an inn while chasing your highs, but right now, you're addicted to the delirious, quiet sounds that escape you both without permission. it's not often he gets to have you like this, soft and relaxed with hours of you, you, you. your soft skin pressed to his as he lies on top of you, the taste of you on his tongue as he swipes at the skin behind your ear, the honey-sweet sounds you make when you start to tremble—he wants all of you, all the time.
you clutch him tighter and angle your head up to him blindly with a low, near-feverish moan in the vague shape of his name, and he turns to meet you. kiss-bitten lips slot against one another with moans, hums, and sighs spilling from the cracks the longer the boil goes on for. the kiss is sloppy and wet, just like everything else about you both right now. his tongue in your mouth, pressing in and making a mess, making your combined spit dribble out of the corner of your mouth, much like his cock was doing the same with your cunt and mixed releases.
you can feel the sweat from him mix with yours on your face, and you bring a hand up to his face. you cup his cheek, then run your fingers through the wet hair on his forehead to pull it out of the way, then you trace his face down to his jaw. you press your fingers into one cheek and cup his jaw with your thumb on the other side, holding him firmly against your mouth as that boil starts to grow hotter.
those quiet, content noises have grown into low moans muffled by your smacking lips and tangled tongues. dunk knows to keep the pace steady, knows how wrecked you'll be afterwards, and doesn't change a thing despite how you're now rocking back and forth with him.
just like the build-up, your release is drawn out. you want it so bad, you were clenching so hard. yet when it hits, your whole body—even your poor cunt—goes completely lax for a whole second before you're tensing and clenching so hard that it punches a half-sob, half-moan out of you. you're shaking so hard that a low, drawn-out groan starts, shaking along with you.
you've got dunk by the throat now, fingers squeezing and releasing the sides of his neck in a way that makes him lightheaded from the rush of blood that keeps coming in waves. you don't even realise you're doing it, and he lets out a broken, high-pitched moan right after you cum. a whine is pressed into the side of your face as your cunt milks him for all that he has, and his thighs shake at the feeling of you twitching as you come down.
you move your hand from his throat eventually, threading your fingers through his hair as you calm down from shaking to a slight tremble. you've got your face turned slightly to press against his that's turned to you on the bundle of clothing he made as a pillow for you, both of you slowly and sweetly nuzzling into one another like cats.
the summer sun still shines through the clouds, it's still humid, it hasn't stopped raining, and you both can't stop smiling.
couldn't stop thinking about this fic by @captainfern 😵💫
tagging some absolute babes whose writing I'm obsessed with: @punk-in-docs 💚 @ghostlybfgf 💚 @somewhereindorne 💚 @orson-pope 💚 @ildico-the-golden 💚 @targlocket 💚 and of course @/captainfern 💚
Born of a Tempest Masterlist - Lyonel Baratheon x Targ!OC
Summary: naeriah stormslayer decides to have some fun a few days before she's due to meet her betrothed. it just so happens that lyonel baratheon has decided to do the same.
Warnings: SMUT, lyonel baratheon horny and yearning at levels the likes of which have been seen and felt only by lesbians and hozier, canon typical violence, canon typical swearing, no beta readers we die like robb stark à la red wedding
Pairing: Lyonel Baratheon x Targ!OC (Princess Naeriah Stormslayer of House Targaryen)
Main Masterlist || Character Aesthetic
Prologue || A Betrothal
Part I || Fool Me Once (SMUT)
Part II || Devil in the Details
Part III || Fool Me Twice (SMUT)
Part IV || Princess in the Tower (ANGST)
Part V || Father Wants a Word
Part VI || The Betrothal Feast
Part VII || Mother Wants a Word
Part VIII || The Stag's Seven Labours (HORNY YEARNING)
Born of a Tempest || Part VIII - The Stags Seven Labours
Summary: lyonel has to wait three entire days before he's allowed to have his darling lady all to himself, and naeriah is not making it easy for him.
Warnings: horny yearning, lyonel is in blue ball hell for three consecutive days, lyonel is DOWN BAD, no beta readers we die like robb stark à la red wedding
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: have a great day because lyonel sure as shit isn't.
Pairing: Lyonel Baratheon x Targ!OC (Princess Naeriah Stormslayer of House Targaryen)
Born of a Tempest Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Character Aesthetic
Previous Part || Next Part
PART VIII, SCENE I || THE STABLES
Lyonel Baratheon, a man true to his word, was waiting for his darling lady at the royal stables just as dawn broke. He was greatly disappointed to find he was not alone. Prince Valarr, Prince Matarys, and the little Lords Gwaynn and Lenor Brandywyne were all there waiting for him. Naeriah's little brothers took the time to properly size him up now that they weren't around the prying eyes of the court, asking him probing questions about his travels in the free cities. Young Lord Gwaynn, with a scowl to rival his aunt's, stood beside the two Princes and crossed his arms over his little chest. Which was a shocking turn of events, as Lyonel would usually have him perched on his shoulders whenever he visited his parents in Evergreene Motte.
"You better not be trying to scare off my husband."
The boys and men turned to see Naeriah walking towards them. She was dressed modestly, none could argue that, but Lyonel felt his blood rush at the sight of his darling lady. She was dressed in a black, sleeveless leather jerkin that was tight around her chest and cinched in at the waist with a belt that held a few pouches. It came down into a skirt with slits on the side so she could move freely, the hem at her mid-calf embroidered with red thread in designs he couldn't quite make out. Under that, she had a red linen long-sleeved shirt and pants that were dull and stained from what was no doubt years of work in the stables. The pants were tucked into boots that came up to her knees, wrapped around her stunning legs in black leather and held together with countless laces.
Lyonel found himself imagining those boots digging into his back while his head was buried between her thighs. Then he imagined them rubbing up against his face, having her ankles hooked on his shoulders while he pounded her into the mattress until she begged for a reprieve. He started to imagine her standing over him, pressing the sole of her boot into the side of his face while she-
"Are you even awake?" Lyonel blinked back at the sound of clicking in his face, finding that his darling was now in front of him with a frown.
"He's awake." Prince Valarr said in a deadpan, side-eying Lyonel with a look that told him he knew exactly where his thoughts wandered to.
This was going to be a long few hours.
PART VIII, SCENE II || THE KITCHENS
Lyonel found himself looking back at the Gold Cloak that followed his darling as she led him to the kitchens. It was the same man that had delivered her farewell letter to him, the same man that expertly twisted his tongue around his in the same way she did. The man kept a close, steely eye on Lyonel every time he looked back, a firm and unyielding hand on one of the swords at his side. His hand itched to hold hers, but he knew he'd be more likely to lose it judging by the look of her shadow.
His darling greeted the kitchen staff by name, every single one she came across, and he was delighted when she introduced them to him. He watched her judge the breakfast they prepared her grandparents, listening to her explain that she always made sure they didn't accidentally add something that upset their stomachs as a meaningless oversight. She sent it off, and then led him around the corner to start preparing something for the both of them.
He came up behind her, his hands finally holding her soft waist, and he nuzzled into the side of her face. He found himself devastated when he saw she was keeping her wild curls under a tightly wrapped kerchief. He tried asking why, quietly, when they found themselves alone for a moment, but she was never able to explain before either her brothers or cousins came back.
"Ser! Someone will see!" She whispered, trying to hide her giggles but failing as he felt her shake in her efforts.
"Fucking let them." He grumbled against her ear, his hands slipping lower to her hips and bringing her back to feel how hard he was. He felt her sigh and relax when he started laying soft kisses on her neck, the high collar of her leather jerkin not giving him as much real estate as he was used to having. "Let them see how much I crave my darling lady."
He smiled wickedly when she turned in his grasp, his hands falling to her ass and grabbing at her like he was a teenager again. She cupped his face with another giggle, looking behind him briefly before gazing at him again.
"We cannot." She told him, leaning away from his mouth when he went to kiss her, shaking her head with a giddy smile.
"Let me feel her at least." He rasped, diving for the side of her jaw and biting down softly, his hands flexing against her plump ass. "Please, my love. Let me feel her. Just my fingers. I'll be quick, I swear."
"Lyonel!" She hissed, a scandalised look on her face as he pressed her tighter against him. Using his name had the opposite effect she probably intended as he growled lightly against her skin. "We have to stop. We'll be caught."
"I don't care." He pulled his head up and gave her a heated look, a look that he hoped told her he wasn't lying. "If we get caught, then they'll move the wedding forward. Then I'll have you all to myself in the cabin of my ship on our way to Storm's End."
"Princess?" Ser Lawsen's voice called out, and Naeriah jumped from Lyonel's arms just before he came around the corner. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes! Of course, Ser Lawsen." She exclaimed by accident, taking a breath to calm down before speaking again. "I was about to seek you out. What would you like for breakfast?"
Ser Lawsen requested something simple, eying Lyonel and keeping his Princess in eyesight from then on. Lyonel ground his teeth together at the man.
PART VIII, SCENE III || THE SOLAR
After breakfast, Maggie had let it slip in front of Lyonel that his darling liked to paint. And when she tried to shut her maid up, Maggie doubled down and told him that she was rather good at it as well. He asked for her to show him her paintings, then he started begging, and when that didn't work, he started whispering promises of what he would do for her on their wedding night. To which she hastily agreed in an effort to shut him up.
She led him to the solar of Maegor's Holdfast, up the stairs and down the corridor until they reached the locked door. Her grandfather allowed her to have the solar all to herself, a way for her to have some time away from the pressures of court, and she used it wisely. The room was filled with vibrant paintings. One section of the room had paintings of flowers, one of bugs, one of fruits, one of people, and one that he realised depicted moments of history or myth. Most of the last two sections were in varying stages, some of them nearly finished and some of them just beginning. There were a lot that were clearly studies: some of her family's faces, some of Maggie, some of the Kingsguard's armour.
The one that was currently on the easel caught his eye. The attention to detail was breathtaking from a distance, and he realised when he got close that it was his hands that she had painted. One hand twisting a gorgeous curl between his fingers and the other cupping her face. He felt his blood rush again, feeling like she had painted a memory right from his head, and it took every ounce of control for him not to turn around and kiss her stupid right there.
PART VIII, SCENE IV || THE GARDENS
The arrival of his Uncle, Lord Baratheon, had them parted after their introduction. Something he became moody over the longer he was away from her, and he fought the sudden urge to strike his Uncle when he was told to report to him early the next morning. He wasn't able to spend time with her in the stables again, wasn't able to watch her work, watch her sweat and imagine how it would taste to suck on her neck.
It was late afternoon when he could finally seek her out, a servant leading him to another servant, who took him to Maggie, who brought him to the gardens. She took him through, taking what seemed like random turns and finding himself completely lost in a sea of greenery. Maggie finally stopped, bowing her head and stepping aside for him to see his darling.
She wore a black dress with red accents in that sharp, unique Targaryen style, her skirts spread out on the grass around her as she leaned back on a tree in the shade. Her bright smile had his tense shoulders relaxing when she looked up at him, his own smile returning as he sat down opposite her. She giggled when he landed on her skirts and gave him a little kick once he settled. He barked out a laugh, taking hold of her ankle and he realised that she hadn't taken off her boots from the stables.
"What are you reading, darling?" He asked, his thumb stroking the inside of her ankle.
"Rather boring, I'm afraid." She cutely scrunched her nose up and brought the book up for him to see the cover. "The Life and Death of Queen Rhaenyra."
Lyonel smirked at her, raising an eyebrow and slowly moving his hand up her leg a little.
"Don't tell me you're getting any grand ideas, darling." He teased, squeezing the muscle of her leg just below her calf. She laughed freely at first before clamping a hand over her mouth when she realised how loud she was. He frowned at the sight, reaching up and taking her wrist, moving it away from her mouth, which caused her to stop laughing. "Don't ever hide your laughter from me. Your joy is a balm on this retched world and I won't have my wife hiding such a sweet sound."
"It's unladylike, my love." She told him quietly, shifting her hand in his grip so that she was holding it instead. He squeezed her hand, a small smirk creeping on his face.
"So is rubbing your dripping cunt along my cock until I'm spent, and yet-"
"Ser!" She exclaimed, snatching her hand back from his and slapping it as he laughed louder than she had. "You cannot say such things!"
He inched his other hand up further, groping at the meat of her calf and leaned in slightly.
"I beg you, my darling." He whispered, his eyes lustful and his mouth craving the curve of her neck. "Let me have her. Let me see her. We're all alone."
"Ser Lawsen is standing right there." She hissed back, unbelieving that he was still on this. Little did she know that he would never let up for as long as he had strength in him.
Lyonel waved his free hand dismissively, never looking away from her for a second.
"I'm sure the man knows how to turn around." He smirked wider when her eyes widened in shock.
"I'm afraid they didn't teach me that when taking my vows." Lyonel's smirk slowly turned to sneer as he faced Ser Lawsen.
"Really?" He asked in a deadpan, raising his eyebrows at the man.
PART VIII, SCENE V || THE PASSAGEWAY
The Seven fuck him. It was the night before the wedding and Lyonel felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin. He couldn't stop thinking about her. About how she smelled like a hard days work while in the stables. How she looked when commanding the kitchen staff. How she sounded when he made her laugh in the shade of the tree. He thought back to all of her paintings and how he wanted to start building an entire castle just for her to paint in.
He was brought out of his maddening thoughts when the sound of knocking rang through his bedchamber. He called out for whoever was at the door to enter, but was surprised when he heard the hissing sound of a heavy door dragging along the stone floor come from behind where he was seated. He stood up, turning to face the noise in curiosity and stiffened at what was revealed to him.
There his darling lady stood, drenched in the shadows of a secret passageway. A black silk robe was draped over her shoulders, the neckline dipping all the way to her waist and wide enough that he could see a peek of her hard nipples. The length of it hit the floor, the front of it open slightly for her tantalising leg to coyly show in way that was only meant to tease him. He was instantly hard, panting like an animal as his eyes followed every dip and curve that was offered up to him. And her hair -fuck the gods, her hair- was finally out and free, sticking up at random angles and framing her perfect face.
"Good evening, my Storm Knight." Her smooth voice was like a balm, her smirk making him shiver. "Is there anything I can do for you tonight?"
Lyonel rushed forward, picking her up and pressing her against the other side of the dark passageway, groaning like he was in pain when she wrapped her legs around his waist and laughed in that addictive cadence. He kissed her. With absolutely no decorum, twisting his tongue around hers over and over again, relishing in her gasps and smirking against her lips when he felt their shared spit drip down their chins. He devoured her, rutting his hips against her core like an animal and groaning when he felt her warm slick seep into his trousers.
"You're killing me." He told her, a pained frown pulling his eyebrows up as he pulled away from her, grinding against her when he saw how wrecked she already was. "You're killing your Storm Knight. How cruel my darling lady is to torture me so."
She shook her head, stroking his beard the way she knew drove him mad, and moaned at the feeling of his trousers rubbing her clit. "I do not mean to, my love. I swear. You just have gods awful timing."
They both froze at the sound of knocking. This time it actually came from his door followed by the stern voice of his Uncle calling his name. Lyonel felt his eye twitch. He was so fucking close. His cock was literally wet with her slick and his fucking Uncle had the gall to call on him at this late hour. Naeriah was doing her best to fight off a laugh, pursing her lips as she looked at him trying to keep his temper in check.
"I'll make it up to you." She whispered, not seductively per say but in the way a wife promises her husband something, in a knowing way. Which made things worse honestly.
He lowered her to the ground, cupping her face and giving her one last agonising kiss that left them both breathless.
"Go to bed." He told her, bumping his nose with hers. "Go to bed, and think of me. Of how your Storm Knight craves his darling lady and ruts into his own fist like a feral stag in springtime."
Once she had closed the passageway, quickly flashing her bare tits at the last second just to hear him let out a strangled moan, he took a few calming breaths before making his way to his door. He swung it open, finding his Uncle scowling at him and he scowled right back.
"What could you possibly need of me at this fucking hour, my Lord?"
PART VIII, SCENE VI || THE CEREMONY
The Sept of Baelor was a grand building. Packed with family, Lords and Ladies of royal and great Houses, nobles of the court, and even some of the common folk at Naeriah's request -and Lyonels threats. His darling would have everything she wanted on this day, and gods help the poor soul that denied her. He waited next to the High Septon, all dressed up in too many layers as he bounced impatiently.
"Will you keep fucking still!" His Uncle hissed from beside him, triggering an eye roll from him.
He only stopped his bouncing when he caught sight of her. He could tell she was nervous from the way she sought out his eyes, from the way she clutched her fathers arm, and the way she let out a colossal deep breath and smiled at him. He smiled back immediately, his hands itching to hold her in his arms and he wished they could do the entire ceremony wrapped around one another.
The first thing he noticed was her hair, the beautiful, frizzy curls framing her face like a halo as the afternoon sun shone behind her. With a circlet of braided gold peaking from under her curly fringe coming to a light, downward point in the centre of her forehead holding a stone of bright azure. He cursed at his blood rushing to his cock, finally agreeing with her about his timing. Her dress was black with striking gold accents that somehow made her eyes glow, embroidered with stags and dragons proudly standing side-by-side. She wore a necklace of golden Dornish coins not entirely unlike her Bravosi one, with matching dangling earrings and bracelets made from the same coins.
She gave him a look when her father gave her away to him and he heard the coins on her bracelets jingle in the silence of the Grand Sept, a look that said she knew exactly where his mind went. He was suddenly thankful for all the black and golden layers covering how hard he was at that moment as they turned to face the High Septon, eager to get through the ceremony.
When the man started talking, revealing his sluggish speech and maddening stutter, Lyonel felt his eye twitch again. In his periphery, he caught Naeriah pursing her lips to contain her laughter and felt her slightly shake when a particular stutter went on for longer than it should have.
PART VIII, SCENE VII || THE FEAST
Lyonel had never seen Naeriah so nervous. He'd only ever known her as a confident, fiery woman that got what she wanted one way or another. He knew she was fine in big crowds, but it seemed when that big crowd was so entirely focussed on her, she hated the feeling of their eyes. She hadn't said as much, of course, but the way she squirmed like she could feel them brushing against her skin had him reach out to her lap and take her fidgeting hand into his. He smiled warmly when she looked at him, giving the back of her hand a couple of kisses and only stopping when she gave him a real smile.
They weren't able to get much talking in, which infuriated him, so whenever someone came up to congratulate them, and they were taking too long for his liking, he would start to hand feed his darling wife whatever food was in front of them. It made her giggle and blush, which had him on a high he never wanted to get down from. He would hum in appreciation when she would do the same for him, licking and biting at her fingers to try and get her to laugh a little louder.
It was almost painful how hard he was, his cock not giving him a moment of mercy the entire time they sat there. When she wasn't holding his hand, he had it twirling her curls while she spoke to whoever was there to congratulate them or offer marital advice or some other fucking thing. The scent of the Rainwood eased him and made him less bitchy as the night dragged on longer than he wanted it to. Eventually, he stopped addressing the guests altogether and instead kept his eyes on his darling wife.
"Are you tired, darling?" He had interrupted some Lord in the middle of his pleasantries when Naeriah let out a yawn.
She hummed in confirmation, giving him a smile. "Only a little, my love."
She turned back to the Lord, about to tell him to continue but he didn't give her the chance. Lyonel suddenly stood up, the sound of his chair scraping against the stone making everyone quiet down as he projected his booming voice.
"My beautiful wife is tired! Thank you all for coming! If you don't mind, we're fucking off to bed! Goodnight!"
Naeriah stood with him, shock and joy mixing on her face as he took her hand and started walking through the crowd. The Stormlands guests cheered him on, clapping him on the shoulder as they passed and his booming laughter echoing throughout the Throne Room. He pulled her closer, his arm snaking around her waist and keeping her snug to his side, turning his head to kiss her temple and whisper about how he couldn't wait to get her alone.
Summary: naeriah experiences her first day married to lyonel.
Warnings: SMUT, SO MUCH SMUT, fluff, I think this counts as a leather boot kink, lyonel obsessed with his wife, lyonel is a MUNCH and DONT YOU FORGET IT, he'd give napoleon "home in three days, don't wash" bonaparte a run for his fucking money, overstim, technically voyeurism, autistic cousin daenora, brief girldad baelor, jealousy, idk what this would be called but she does orgasm while he talks about killing aerion and then fucking her with his bloodstained hands, FINGERS IN HIS MOUTH, masturbation, fingering, biting, hickeys, p in v, lyonel hittin it from behind like a feral stag in springtime, spank that phat ass, choking, he hooks her ankles on his shoulders and folds her in half in the last part, big jiggling tiddies yall, spitting kink, no beta readers we die like robb stark à la red wedding
Word Count: 6.6k
A/N: I think the warnings speak for themselves. have a great day. (last part is a bonus part that lists their kids)
Pairing: Lyonel Baratheon x Targ!OC (Princess Naeriah Stormslayer of House Targaryen)
Born of a Tempest Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Character Aesthetic
Previous Part || Bonus Part
Naeriah awoke at the same hour as she always did each morning, the hour of the nightingale, the hour spent in darkness before the sun lit up the sky before making her appearance. It was her favourite time of the day, adoring the colours the sky was painted in as the sun slowly made her ascent towards the horizon before spilling over and giving the world its sunrise.
For the first time in a long time, she found herself loathe to leave her bed. She was on her side, her face pressed into Lyonel's hair, her right arm being used as a pillow for his head as his face was mushed into her chest, his arms wrapped around her like he'd had a nightmare that he lost her and her left leg slung over his hips like she'd had the same. Lyonel was going to have to take her everywhere he travelled, she decided. She never wanted to wake up alone again if this is how loved it felt to wake with him.
A knock on the door made him shift slightly in his sleep, nuzzling further down into her sternum, a gravely groan vibrating against her chest, and he sighed deeply once he was settled again. She contained a giggle at the scratchy feeling of his beard rubbing against the soft skin of her breasts as his chin nestled in between them and lightly massaged his scalp.
"Come in, Maggie." She called out loudly without trying to wake her slumbering husband.
She was not successful as Lyonel groaned again, the sound scratchy, and he tightened his arms around her middle. Maggie came through, closing the door softly with her foot like she always does, before coming over to her bedside with the tray of tea and her usual light breakfast.
"She can watch." He grumbled, causing Maggie to come to stop just before reaching the side table, frowning at Naeriah with a perplexed smile. "She can't touch. No one… No one can touch."
The women rolled their eyes at his words, shaking their heads at the same time and she made herself busy by slowly getting out the clothes that were needed for the stables.
"Yes, same goes for Ser Lawsen." Naeriah jokingly replied, making him hum in agreement regardless. "I have to get up, my love."
"Says who?" He grumbled louder, now nuzzling back up to her neck and sucking on that spot from last night.
"Says me." She answered with a smile, trying to peel his face away by his hair but finding complete resistance.
"Then say otherwise." He sucked harder, using his teeth to tease the flesh harshly and make her let out a soft moan, his tongue coming out and soothing over the spot. "Stay in bed, darling. Those damned horses will be fine without you."
"The stable master has started the day's duties without you." Maggie supplied with a guilty smile.
"What?" Naeriah sat up a little, startled by the news which made Lyonel groan and double in his efforts to get her to stay in bed. "What would possess him to do that?"
"Could it, mayhaps, have been your wedding this past night?" He sarcastically replied, nipping at her neck again.
"Lyonel." Her wide-awake tone had him groaning like he was in pain, slipping from her warm embrace and attempting to paw at her hips just before she stood from the bed. "I have to go now. They're going to do it wrong."
He took the opportunity to stare at her ass as she moved around, watching every bounce and ripple that came with her steps, and he stifled a moan when she bent over to put her red trousers on. Savouring the peak of her bare pussy before she pulled the trousers up all the way and he rested his chin in the palm of his hand as his greedy eyes watched her every movement. Lyonel felt a stab of irrational jealousy when Maggie started helping his wife bind her heavy breasts with a thick roll of linen, watching her technique closely so he could do it for her in the future.
The future. What would that look like? Would they stay in Storm's End? Be tormented with a never-ending scroll of duties from his Uncle that would take him away from her loving arms every day? Maybe they could live with the Brandywyne's for a time. Go riding in the Rainwood every morning before the sun rose and have breakfast in the glowing meadows.
But they would have to go to Storm's End at some point. That was the entire reason his Uncle arranged their marriage in the first place, to tame him. Lyonel wasn't the heir but his Uncle's only son wasn't exactly shaping up to be a good replacement once he was gone, and he demanded Lyonel and Lyle learn to pick up the slack. Lyle was far more suited to such a task, he had a mind for numbers and was loyal to a fault. Whereas Lyonel couldn't even sit still long enough to write his own name.
"Ser Lawsen will be with you, yes?" He asked, his eyes trailing the last bit of skin on her abdomen as it was covered with her shirt. Lyonel couldn't shake the nagging feeling of anxiety sitting in his chest at the thought of being parted from her again.
"Of course." She told him, moving to her tea and taking a long, appreciative gulp before moving on to the biscuits.
"He's already outside." Maggie confirmed as she concentrated on sorting out the leather jerkin so Naeriah could easily slip it on. "Do you want a word? I can call him in?"
"No need, dear." He told her, standing from the bed and bringing one of the bedsheets low around his waist. "Stay here."
When he slipped outside of her bedchambers, Sir Lawsen had turned to face him and gave a polite bow of his head.
"Good morning, milord. I trust you slept well." He greeted, giving him a genuine smile, which Lyonel returned in full.
"Like a fucked out whore." He answered with a cocky twitch of his eyebrow. He stepped closer then, a serious look coming over him and he lowered his voice slightly. "Would you answer some questions, lad?"
"Of course, milord." Ser Lawsen agreed immediately with a nod of his head. "Anything."
"You're sworn to her? Loyal to her?" He nodded along with the knight before continuing. "You won't allow anything to happen to her when I'm not there, yes? From man or beast?"
"I vowed to protect her from all harm." He answered with a seriousness that brought Lyonel a touch of peace. "With all due respect, milord -I really mean no disrespect. Becoming your wife does not change the fact that she is a princess of the blood."
"Good answer." Lyonel complimented the knight in a way that said he was relieved by his words, giving him an appreciative pat on the armoured shoulder before slipping back inside.
His darling wife was nearly ready, sitting at her vanity as her maid was about to braid her hair back with a pile of pins next to her. Lyonel came up beside her and went down on one knee, giving a chaste kiss to her shoulder.
"You're not going to go back to hiding your hair, are you?" He asked softly, looking up at her when she turned her face to him, his hand coming to her thigh and stroking back and forth with his thumb. "You look divine with it out."
"It will get in the way if I don't." She looked like she didn't quite believe her own words, and he smiled softly.
"You can have it out of the way without hiding a part of yourself." He told her.
Naeriah had always done her best to hide her hair from the court. Not everyone loved that the crown married a Dornish princess. Whispers of the royal bloodline being tainted, the whispers growing stronger when the heir came out looking like her instead of the blood of the dragon, then into mumbled insults at the sight of his children. From the time she was old enough to understand such murmurings, she had insisted on various hoods and veils during the day for formal meetings and kerchiefs for when she was working in the stables or on her paintings. She didn't want to remind anyone of her ancestry.
And then Lyonel had twisted those curls in between his fingers and buried his nose into them. The way he looked at her while they were a wild nest the night before their wedding had her thinking that she might not need to fear them.
"May I?" He asked in a whisper against her collarbone.
She nodded silently, leaning into his kiss when he cupped her cheeks and followed his movements as he stood back up. He tied half of her hair up with some cord before he took the kerchief from Maggie, folding it a few times so it was a thick strip. He placed it where her curled fringe started and wrapped it under the hair that was left down at the back of her head, tying it off in a single knot before wrapping it around her head once more and double-knotting it at the base of her skull.
"There." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Divine."
She suddenly remembered that she needed to get going, giving him a quick but deep kiss that had him pulling her closer by her hips.
"Will you be starting your day now?" She asked him curiously after pulling back from him.
"Fuck no." He told her candidly, making her laugh. "I'm going back to sleep."
And sleep he did. Naeriah would swear she heard his quiet snores before she even left the room, and she shook her head at her husband. She swiftly made her way to the stables after ordering Maggie to go back to sleep as well, telling her that no one was ever in the library this early in the day, and there were several places for her to curl up and get some shut-eye. The stable master was in the middle of explaining how to handle the horse in the first stall to a handful of young boys when Naeriah came over and made herself known.
"Princess?" He was shocked to see her. "What-what are you doing here?"
Naeriah gave him an odd look as she put on her leather gloves. "Why on earth would I not be here?"
"Well… You were…" He stumbled over his words, the boys around him snickering at what he was trying to get at. "You got married last night, Princess."
"Bless your heart, Ser." She said with a sweet smile before picking up the halter off the railing beside her and walking towards the stall door he was in front of. "It will take more than a rough fucking from my husband to keep me abed."
She spent the entire morning teaching the group of boys how she ran the stables. Her standards for the cleanliness of the stalls and the amount of feed each horse got. She would not have her horses spoiled once she left. She left at the time she usually did but instead of having everything done like usual, the boys were diligently at work fulfilling her duties.
Ser Lawsen followed her to the kitchens, keeping a watchful eye on her as she did what she usually did, and then silently followed her back to her bedchambers with a fresh bread roll hidden behind his cloak. She thanked him for opening her door before walking in and facing her sleeping husband. He was sprawled out on her bed on his stomach, arms wide and legs tangled in the sheets as he lightly snored. She didn't notice him snoring while she watched him that morning and she wondered if it just depended on his position.
"Husband?"
Her sweet voice pulled him from his restless slumber, his head lifting at the sound and then twisting his body to catch sight of her. Lyonel rose from the bed, forgoing the sheets around his hips this time and wrapping his arms around her from behind, nuzzling his nose into the spot behind her ear and inhaling.
Maidens fucking tits. She smelled like sweat, like horse, like hard work. He groaned, making her giggle and halfheartedly try to push him off her but he just pressed against her harder.
"Take off your clothes." He heatedly whispered against her ear, attaching his lips to the skin under it and sucking his way down her neck. He grinded against her ass, his cock hard as steel at this point, as he licked and sucked at the taste of her sweat. "Let me feel her. Let me ravish her."
Naeriah moaned at the sudden onslaught of lust from her husband, tangling her fingers in his bedridden curls and tugging. "I'm filthy, my love. Let me bathe while you have breakfast."
"No, I don't think I will." His lighthearted tone made her laugh again, which was a good sign as he thought she must have been completely out of her fucking mind if she thought she was going to bathe alone. He spun her to face him, kissing her properly and biting down on her lower lip. "I'd have you on your back, darling wife. Naked and wanting."
She nodded with a moan and they both started pulling at the laces of her jerkin, tugging it off her shoulders and then pawing at her shirt. He hurriedly unwrapped her chest binding, throwing the offending roll of linen behind him before moving onto her trousers. He untucked them from her boots -those fucking boots- and ripped them down her legs, mouthing at the silver stretchmarks on her thighs as he went.
He came back up, sucking on a different part of her neck and started guiding her back to the sanctuary of her bed. When her legs bumped into the foot of the bed, he picked her up and threw her again, her laugh no less beautiful than the night before and he gave her a heated smirk. She lifted her leg to start unlacing her boot but his hand shot out and stopped her with a soft tut.
"Keep the boots on, darling." He told her with that smirk, making her blush from her cheeks all the way to her tits.
Naeriah didn't know how long he had her pinned to the bed, suckling at her cunt like he planned to stay there all day. He had his head lying on the plush of her thigh like a pillow, his mouth never stopping its ministrations on her now puffy folds and his arms looped under her thighs so they rested on his shoulders. The boots he insisted stay on had probably rubbed his back raw with how long they had been like this.
He'd made her cum so many times in the hours he'd been eating at her, some of them hitting her hard and fast, some slow and aching, and the others had her twitching and gushing, only spurring him on further. At least now he had slowed down, licking at her and slurping at her slick like he was half asleep, both of them letting out little sighs of content every now and again.
He didn't stop when there was a knock at the door, but thank the gods he didn't speed up either. He only pulled a hair's width away from her to tell whoever it was to enter before nosing his way back in. Naeriah gasped when he gave the command, reaching for the sheets at her waist to cover her breasts while he stayed under them completely covered.
Ser Lawsen led in Maggie carrying a tray of food, both of them looking anywhere but the bed as she brought the tray over to her bedside. Naeriah felt her husband smirk against her folds before moving his head back up off her thigh to eat at her properly, doubling his efforts and sucking on her sensitive clit again. She tried to stifle her gasp, doing everything humanly possible to hold on to what remained of her image as a Princess.
"Lunch, my Princess." Maggie told her, fighting a laugh at the sight of her friend fighting back a moan.
"Thank you!" She replied, her voice breathless before she threw her head back against the pillows and let out a choked moan anyway.
"I'll let your father know that you're still indisposed." Maggie couldn't help the giggle that followed before bowing quickly and rushing out of the room with Ser Lawsen hot on her tail.
Lyonel brought his hand up and pulled back her folds with his fingers, watching with rapt attention as the hood of her clit revealed the most precious pearl he would ever lay eyes on. He softly blew a cool stream of air on it and laughed in delight when she let out a choked scream, flinching against him and then melting back just as fast. He licked at her exposed pearl in a slow, broad, thick stripe. He'd do so a couple of times, relishing in the sounds he pulled from her, at the feeling of her hips bucking and at the way she trembled under him.
Lyonel wrapped his lips around her pearl, sucking on it and moaning against her. She started babbling again, some of it begging, some of it telling him it was too much, some of it even cursing him out, but never telling him to stop.
Her eyes rolled back, her back arched, and it felt like the moan she let out was punched out of her when she felt that now very familiar coil snap in her lower belly. Her hips bucked against his strong arms that held her down, held her through her release and she felt hot tears fall from her eyes the longer he went.
"Lyonel, I beg! Please!" She yelled out, and like a dog he obeyed, retreating from her abused pussy to suck on the inside of her thigh.
He moved up to her hip, sucking harshly to mark her before sliding up to the underside of her breast, sucking a mark there as well. He sucked at the sweat that had gathered on her sternum, licking his way back to her neck as he settled over her.
"Hungry? My love?" He asked like he hadn't just spent hours committing the most debauched acts against her pussy with his mouth.
After lunch Naeriah convinced Lyonel to take her for a walk in the gardens, with a lot of whining on his part, that is, as he wanted to spend as much time alone with her as he was afforded. They made themselves presentable and before he knew it, Princess Daenora had joined them, and was fifteen minutes into the history behind why each flower and tree was planted in the gardens.
Lyonel found himself staring as the girl spoke faster and faster with every plant they came across. Did he retain any of what she was saying? Of course not. But he realised very quickly that she was managing to speak without taking a single visible breath, watching with rapt attention at how the little Princess was able to breathe steadily through her nose without stopping her speech. She must have realised that he hadn't said a word since their greeting, as she slowed to stop with an embarrassed smile and a rosy blush on her pale cheeks.
"What about that one?" He asked, pointing blindly to a flower next to her.
He smiled wider in joy when she tried and failed to hide her excitement, and launched into another speech that sounded like she had memorised straight from a book. On and on she went, from flower to tree, and Lyonel gleefully encouraged her to keep going every time she slowed down. More than once, he caught Naeriah looking up at him with a soft smile, to which he would squeeze her hand and give it a quick kiss.
"Princess! There you are!" A Septa came around the corner and swiftly walked over to the little Princess, bowing at the couple before facing her again. "I have been searching everywhere for you, Princess. You are over an hour late to your lessons."
"I was busy! Actually busy this time!" She defended. "I was telling Naeriah and her husband about-"
"Whatever it is, they don't need to hear it." The Septa interrupted sternly, making Lyonel roll his eyes. "Now, say your goodbyes, and don't forget to curtsey."
Daenora curtsied lovely, Naeriah following with a sweet smile, and Lyonel following with his own curtsey making the Princess's laugh. The Septa led her out of the gardens and the couple was left to birdsong and the hot summer sun.
"Thank you for that." Naeriah said, pulling him along to a covered part of the ledge so she could look out at Blackwater Bay in the shade. "I don't get to see her as often as I'd like."
"It was no trouble at all." He told her, pulling her closer and kissing her temple. "She's a sweet little gal. I was honestly disappointed when the hag showed up."
"Naeriah?"
The couple turned to see that her father was walking towards them with an apprehensive expression on his face. Naeriah felt her face light up at the rare sight of her father away from his duties, and swiftly walked over to him, embracing him in a tight hug. Baelor held her close to him, closing his eyes and holding her head to his chest for a moment longer before pulling back to look at her. He visibly relaxed when he saw her beaming up at him in the summer sun.
"You are radiant this morning, my dear." He said lowly, taking her hands in his and holding them to his chest, mismatched eyes searching her bright ones. "You had a good night? He was kind?"
Memories of her husband slurping at her pussy like it was a damn bowl of soup flashed through her mind, of how he nearly had her hanging upside down by her hips and her thighs clamped around his head while he took what he wanted at the exact paced he wanted to. She tried her best to not blush under her fathers concerned gaze, tried to keep her smile sweet as she squeezed his hands.
"He was very kind, Papa." She told him, her voice strong even though those thoughts had her mouth water. He sighed in relief at her words, closing his eyes for a moment and she realised with a frown how tired he looked. He had a hint of dark circles under his eyes and his short hair seemed a touch out of place. "Did you sleep well last night?"
"Not at all." He answered honestly with a little laugh, kissing at her frown when it deepened. "Think nothing of it. You are well, and I will sleep better tonight… But I'm afraid I must go."
"Duties, and all that." She said with a roll of her eyes and an understanding smile. "Go. I love you, Papa."
"And I, you, dearest."
Before long, it was dinner, and Naeriah was starving. The table was filled with her family, which unfortunately included Aerion, but it seemed Aunt Lenny had given him a good verbal beating as anytime he went to say something in that cuntish way he does, she snapped to him with a glare that could send The Stranger running for cover. She found Lyonel eyeing her demented cousin in between conversation with her other family members at the table, that joyous smile never wavering, but his eyes took on a predatory light whenever he caught the Prince staring. Aerion would glare back harder before looking away in case his step mother caught him instigating anything.
Uncle Maekar had come over towards the end of the night, caressed her cheek briefly and called her Ducky before bidding her and her husband goodnight, taking the three youngest of his gaggle with him. Lyonel took her hand when he left, intertwining his fingers with hers and kissed each knuckle while she tried to keep a conversation with Aunt Lenny. The older woman rolled her eyes with a smirk at the sight of her blushing niece and leaned in to whisper that she should perhaps take her husband to bed.
Lyonel was on her like an arrow hitting its mark. His hands holding her face to his as he kissed her so hard it was like he was punishing her for something. She moaned wantonly, which only caused him to press into her tighter against the door, his mouth opening wider as he tried to devour her. He only pulled away when she cupped his hard cock over his trousers, releasing her mouth with a breathy moan and laying his forehead against hers.
"What has possessed my Storm Knight?" She asked in a breathless voice, arching her back for him when he reached behind her to start unlacing her dress.
"That ugly, green creature called jealousy, my darling wife." He told her, bumping his nose with hers as he tried to sneak back in for a kiss. "You may think that cunt of a cousin of yours is simply tormenting you for fun, but I know that look in his eyes very well."
She didn't say anything back, a bit of shock leaking into her hazy, lust-filled state as she kept a firm hand on his aching cock when he grinded against it. He got the last of the laces undone and slowly started dragging her dress over her shoulder, leaning down to lick and suck at the skin being revealed to him before they fell in a pile at their feet.
"It's the same look that every man has when they lay eyes on you." He spoke against her skin, nipping at her and smirking when she gasped. "A look that has me fighting my baser instincts."
"Name them." She commanded, her soft chest rising and falling, and he cupped her heavy tits in both hands, groping at them until she tilted her head back in bliss.
His left hand skimmed down further and cupped her soaked pussy, his fingers delving through her lips and rubbing tight circles on her pearl. She gasped, her hips rocking against his hand and her own moving to tangle in his hair and tug on him.
"I want to hang him from his ankles and slice him from cunt to throat. Let him see what he's really made of." He smirked down at her when he felt her twitch against him, clenching down on nothing and the tell tail rush of her nectar greeting his fingers. Lyonel sped up, pressing down harder and rougher until her mouth dropped open. "And then I want to fuck you. Hard. Unrelenting. With his blood still on my hands as I wrap one around your throat. Until you're begging me to stop."
He firmly cupped her pussy when she came, pressing her up against the door and biting down on her shoulder as he felt her entrance flutter around nothing and her pearl twitch against his palm. She whimpered against him, pressing her head into the crook of his neck and mouthing sloppily at the skin she could find there. Then she pulled his head back, her hand coming up to cup his face and tease her pointer and middle finger into his mouth. He greedily took them, sucking them in to her knuckles and teasing them with his tongue.
"Whenever you feel those… Baser instincts call to you." She shifted her gaze from his lips wrapped around her fingers to his near black eyes. "You seek me out and skip straight to the second part."
Lyonel felt something inside him snap. He picked her up and, yet again, threw her onto the bed once he was close enough, tearing at his clothes like they were slowly burning him as he watched her. His darling wife took this opportunity to lean back on one of her elbows and prop her legs up, spreading herself for his jealous gaze and start exploring her own folds with her delicate fingers. Naeriah looked up at him with that tantalising smirk that drove him up the wall and her mouth dropped open when she inserted her pointer and middle fingers into her dripping cunt. The very fingers he had been sucking on only seconds prior.
He stood before her at the foot of the bed, stark naked in the glow of the candle light and had his eyes trained on her as Naeriah pumped her fingers in and out of herself. Her gorgeous legs that were bent at the knee still had those torturous black leather boots secured to her calves. The meat of her unclenched muscles mushed against her thighs in a way that had him craving to run his tongue there and bite down to mark her.
He gently took her wrist and slowly pulled her fingers from her soaked entrance with a whine falling from her bitten lips. He took her fingers in his mouth again, his eyes closing at the taste of her nectar coating his tongue before opening them to watch her get more worked up as he sucked them clean. Once he was done, he gripped her hips and manhandled her onto her stomach so quickly she let out a squeal when she landed. He pulled her hips up so she was on her knees, her face pressed to the sheets briefly before she propped herself up on her elbows, and he nudged her legs wider with his knees.
He thrust right to the hilt in one go, a wanton scream scratching its way out of her throat as he groaned at the feeling of her clenching down on him. He set a brutal pace that pushed her forward with every slap and he pulled her back to him every time with a bruising grip on her hips. He watched with obsessed eyes as her ass bounced back and forth with every hit of his hips, their skin slapping in a way that had him twitching inside her already. Her head fell forward, forehead on the sheets as she moaned with every thrust like it was getting punched out of her with his cock. At this angle he hit that place inside her again and again, with a precision that already had her eyes rolling back and her hips trying to thrust back against him.
"This is what that little fucking shitheel wishes he could do." Lyonel growled, a hand coming down and slapping her ass cheek. He had to grab a hold of where he hit and squeeze the jiggling fat to ground himself when she clenched down on him so hard he nearly came, squeezing his eyes shut and willing away the stars that danced there. He made a mental note on how much they both liked that. "This is what every man wishes he could do to you."
Naeriah let out a particularly loud moan that ended in a sob and shook her head against the sheets, fists twisted in the pillows above her. "Only you! Only you!"
He pulled her so she was upright, the sweat from his chest mixing with that on her back as he brought his hand around her throat and continued to pound into her. His laugh when she clenched down on him was different to all the others, laced with what she realised was truly jealousy and she held onto the hand around her throat for dear life.
"Oh, you really fucking like that, don't you?" He breathed heavily into her ear, licking at the sweat under it and biting down. Naeriah nodded helplessly, her head tilted all the way back on his shoulder at the feeling of him hitting that spot even harder and marking her neck with his teeth. He brought a hand down to her lower belly and applied a delicious pressure that had her mouth agape in a scream. It made him laugh again, the feeling of his cock head repeatedly hitting his hand driving him crazy, nuzzling his face into the side of hers and making sure to rub his beard down her neck for good measure. "You feel that? You think any other man could do what I can do to you? Could make you feel like this?"
She shook her head vigorously, chanting his name over and over, and he rewarded such beautiful honesty with rubbing slow circles on her puffy pearl. Lyonel had to hold her against him tightly as she came, stilling his hips and retreating from her throat and core to wrap his arms around her middle and shoulders as she started shaking against him, her sweet nectar gushing and steadily rolling down both of their thighs. He laid countless kisses to her face, doing everything he could to bring her back down from this high, except, of course, allowing her shaking thighs to close. He wickedly fought her on that, whispering soft demands for her to be his good little wife into her ear when she whined at the feeling of his hard cock placed firmly against that soft, gummy spot that had her seeing stars.
"Lyo?" Fuck. She'd never called him that before, no one had, and he never wanted to hear it from anyone's lips but hers.
"What it is, my darling." He cupped the side of her face and started sucking on her neck, jealous lips lavishing up and down as she struggled to speak. "Tell me. Tell me, darling."
"I want you." She whined helplessly, her hands pawing at his and her face trying to nuzzle closer to his.
Oh, how adorable his darling wife was. She had him wrapped around her finger before he'd even laid eyes on her. The sound of her laugh was like a sirens call, and he'd gladly crash his ship into the jagged rocks for the chance to hear her sing.
"I'm right here, my darling love." He replied, moving his hand back to her soft lower belly again and pressing down, feeling his own cock inside her pressing up against her silky walls. He smiled when started throbbing again like her cunt had it's own heartbeat, at the moan she let out as she turned to bury her face into his neck. "What more is there for you to want?"
A loud groan tumbled from his lips when Naeriah intentionally clenched down on him.
"I want all of you, Lyo." She sweetly demanded, nuzzling at his jaw with her nose. "Please? Please give it to me?"
Lyonel had to pull out of her, despite how desperately she tried to keep him nestled in her pulsing cunt, despite how he loathed to hear her whimper at the feeling of losing him and clawing at his hips. He manhandled her again to her back, huffing a small laugh at the look of a lust untamed in her eyes as she stared up at him. Lyonel certainly had his work cut out for him if this is what she was like after the fucking he just gave her and he couldn't wait to show up for duty every single fucking day.
He knelt above her, taking her boot-clad ankles one by one and hooking them over his shoulders, snugly nested against both sides of his neck. He entered her slowly this time, rocking his hips gently before gradually building to that same punishing rhythm from before, her bed creaking loudly from his effort. He had his eyes glued to her heavy, lightning-struck tits bouncing with every thrust, fighting with himself on if he wanted to hold the jiggling globes or if he wanted to just stare at them bouncing. His darling wife looked like she was in heaven, her head tilted back with a wide smile as she moaned over the sounds of the slapping of their pelvis, her hands beautifully twisted in the sheets above her head again. To put it plainly, his wife was fucking cock drunk. Which was just as well, since he was completely and utterly cuntstruck.
Lyonel moved forward, folding her in half as he leaned down on his elbow by her head, fingers tangling in her absolute mess of curls her hair had become as he took a hold of her jaw with the other. He squeezed her cheeks together to open her mouth wider and then, without so much as a wink for a warning, he spat directly on her tongue. She clenched so damn hard his hips stuttered for a split second, her eyes widened at the feeling and taste of him hitting her tongue and her hands left the sheet to claw at his back.
He could feel Naeriah trying to bring him closer with her legs but he used his free arm to pin them to his chest as he pounded into her harder. He didn't want her walking straight tomorrow. In fact, he wanted her to wake him up during the hour of the nightingale when she struggled to move her legs to the edge of the bed. Just so he could send Maggie back off to bed and spend another couple of hours with his face buried in her cunt. He wanted to fall asleep there.
He could feel himself start to peak, the high running through him a sweet one that felt like lightning running through his veins. He slipped his hand between her soaked thighs and started rubbing firm circles on her pearl. He thought for a moment that she was digging her nails into his ribs so hard she broke skin.
"Give it to me, Naeriah." He groaned lowly, his hips stuttering the harder she clenched. "My wife. My darling wife."
Her sudden release triggered his own, her pulsing cunt milking him for everything he could give her, coating her warm, silky walls with his seed. As gently but as quickly as he could, he moved her legs to wrap around his waist and softly dropped his weight on her. He thought he would start purring at the feeling of her scratching his scalp with her nails and her pussy still twitching every few seconds. They stayed in that satiated, peaceful silence for a while, with only the sounds of the crackling fire lulling them closer and closer to sleep.
"I meant what I said before." She said quietly, and he lifted his head slowly to lay soft kisses to her rosy cheeks.
"Remind me, would you?" He asked, smirking against her skin. "You said quite a few things back there."
She rolled her eyes with a smile and a ghost of a laugh on her plush lips that was too tired to bear the fruit he craved.
"No other man will ever have me." She turned to him, moving a hand from his hair to cup his own rosy cheeks. "But… If you still feel that little, green creature worm it's way into your mind… My arms and my legs are always open to prove that fucker wrong."
"Fuck, woman." He groaned, his eyes rolled back briefly at her words and he smiled down at her. "I love you, you know that?"
"Hm." She hummed with a cheeky smile. "I had an idea."
Naeriah laughed unrestrained when he ducked his head back down to press a thousand kisses to every bit of skin available to him, and Lyonel thought it the most beautiful sound.
Born of a Tempest || Part IX - The Bedding Ceremony
Summary: naeriah and lyonel finally get to be alone in her bedchambers.
Warnings: SMUT, fluff, cunnilingus, she jerks him off so good he cries a lil, overstim, biting, hickeys, p in v, no beta readers we die like robb stark à la red wedding
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: have a great day. whiny-winnie it won't let me tag you :(
Pairing: Lyonel Baratheon x Targ!OC (Princess Naeriah Stormslayer of House Targaryen)
Born of a Tempest Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Character Aesthetic
Previous Part || Next Part
The sound of a group of people had the newlyweds turning back once they got out of the Throne Room. They caught sight of Maggie leading a group of female servants on her right and a group of male servants on her left, all of them running after the couple.
"Maggie!" Lyonel yelled exasperatedly as he turned back to focus on where he was walking, his hand tightening in its grip of his wife's. "You're a lovely gal, truly, but you're not watching me fuck my wife!"
"You misunderstand, milord!" She had a giddy smile on her face as she caught up with them. The female servants descending upon Naeriah and the male servants doing the same for Lyonel, tearing at laces and buckles as they encouraged the pair to continue their pace. "We're here to get you ready."
By the time Naeriah's bedchamber came into view, Lyonel was down to his trousers and boots, and his darling wife had been stripped to her chemise. Maggie ran forward, one of Naeriah's layers thrown over her shoulder as she opened the door, giggling as quietly as she could as the servants worked in tandem to herd the couple through the entry.
He didn't know how it happened, but once inside, they tumbled to the ground with a bark of laughter, and the door slammed shut. His darling wife pounced on him in an instant, eager hands pulling at the laces of his trousers while his own raced to pull her chemise above her head. He got it off first, smirking when he saw that the servants had left all of the clinking gold jewellery on her heated skin and trailing his hands down her body to grope at her thighs like a drunk.
He stilled when his hands found leather and metal, the juicy fat of her thigh slightly spilling around the tightly wrapped bands his hands found. He looked down, trying to see what was there and she smirked. Her own hands stilled in unlacing his trousers as she rose up, knees planted on either side of him.
"Do you like them?" She asked coyly, and his mouth watered at the sight. Leather bands adorned her thighs, the centre of them decorated with the golden head of a stag and its antlers cupping her thighs the way he wanted to. "Maggie thought you'd like them, but I knew they would drive my Storm Knight mad."
"Naeriah." Oh, she liked how that sounded. His voice rumbled in a familiar warning, his eyes dark as they pierced through her.
"Say it again." She commanded in a whisper, slowly coming back down to his thighs and continuing her work on his trousers.
"Naeriah." He gripped her hips harshly, the way he knew had her clenching around nothing.
She let out a breathy moan at his voice, making his hips twitch at the sweet sound. He gasped when her soft hand wrapped around his straining cock, pulling it from his trousers, and he lifted his hips to help her get them all the way off.
Her lithe fingers wrapped around him again, stroking firmly from his base to his head a few times, and he couldn't help but smirk at the sound her bracelet made at the motion. His mouth dropped from its smirk to a scandalised moan when she started focusing on the head. She had him in a tight-near painful grip, her hand moving in small, tight strokes while her thumb rubbed firm circles over his sensitive tip. She laughed, a wanton sound that had him bucking up into her hand, and she only tightened around him, her other hand snapping up to his chest and pressing him down when he tried to move.
"Darling, I-" He choked out, his hands everywhere as they tried to find purchase on her body. "Fuck!"
Naeriah was on top of the world. She smirked as she leaned down to start sucking at his chest and biting when he tried to sit up again. Using the strength in her lower body to kept control over his hips bucking against her, using every last bit of control in her to not start grinding against him for relief. She wanted him to feel every last drop of her, feel what he did to her while she had him under her control. She wanted to make sure her husband was well fed.
She listened to him babble nonsense as she continued, eventually sitting back up slightly to bring her other hand down to cup his balls and massage them. The sounds he was making had her clenching, throbbing in need as he writhed. Without much warning, he came with a shout, his seed shooting up his stomach, hitting his chest and a single drop landing on the base of his throat.
Naeriah didn't let up for a second. Her hand milking him for everything he could possibly give her as he begged her for mercy, tears welling up in his eyes through his beautiful moaning.
"Darling! I beg!" He finally choked out, and she released him immediately, running her hands up and down his tense stomach to sooth him.
She was sure there were going to be bruises littering her thighs the next morning just from this alone, and she warmed at the thought of there being proof that he was there. She watched him with hazy eyes, his chest heaving in effort to get more air into his lungs, and he finally cracked his eyes open to look at her. She brought her hand up to his throat, her finger scooped at the small glob of cum that had landed there, and then brought it to her mouth, humming at the salty taste of him on her tongue.
"There's no fucking way you got all that from a book." He rasped, and she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she scooped up some more further down his chest and sucked on her fingers. "I certainly would've heard of it."
"No, Ser Lawsen told me of this. Of how the first time he did it to another man, his seed shot up into his hair." She told him, a softer, shyer smile creeping through her confidence.
"Well," he rolled his eyes at the revelation. Of course the man that dedicated the rest of his life in service to the Princess was a damn sword swallower. "A man of many talents, it seems. I'll have to thank him."
"Hm. You'll have to be the one to teach me how to use my mouth, though." She smirked when his head shot up, his eyes wide and his breathing picking up again. "I do wish to know how best to welcome my husband back after time away."
Lyonel had enough. He managed to get the upper hand on her while she laughed and stood with her in his arms before she knew what was happening. She squealed and clutched at his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his waist as he swiftly brought them over to her large, soft bed. He unceremoniously threw her to the middle of it, listening to her laugh echo around her chambers for a moment, letting the lovely sound seep into his skin before setting her with a predatory look. He grabbed her ankle in one hand and knelt on the bed in front of her with a smirk, loving the way his darling wife looked up at him with lust and anticipation.
"Let me see her, darling. Don't be shy, not for me." He asked with a low voice, moaning when she spread her legs and he saw how much of a mess she was. "Oh, darling. Look at the state of you."
"It's all for you." She said breathlessly, propped up on her elbows as she watched him move closer. "Only you."
"All mine?" He mumbled, chuckling darkly when she quickly nodded.
He got himself comfortable on his knees, pressed up against her like he was going to thrust forward at any moment. Except he wrapped his arms under her plush thighs and gripped her hips, effortlessly bringing her soaking cunt up to his face and sliding her down the bed until her head was between his knees. He laughed when she squealed at the sudden movement, then bit at the inside of her thigh when they clamped around his head for balance and dived into her hot pussy.
Naeriah didn't know what to do with herself, her arms tangled in the sheets above her head as she tried to figure out a way to grind against his nose pressed against her clit. She moaned his name over and over again as he ate from her cunt like a man starved, his arms secured around her hips like chains as his neck was comfortably cushioned by the fat of her ass. The feeling of him sucking on her folds as he left her clenching hole was indescribable, had her arching as best as she could, and the delicious sting of his beard on her sensitive skin sent her into a frenzy.
Naeriah started begging, started babbling like she had made him before, her body twitching against him when he finally wrapped his lips around her puffy pearl. He felt her try to grab at him, at his knees, his thighs, his hips, but every time her hands found purchase, he would flick his tongue out and make her jump, tormenting her the way she had done to him. He was rock hard again, something he paid no mind to as he briefly left that twitching pearl to lick a fat stripe from her ass, and all the way back up, scooping up as much of her nectar as he could get.
"Fuck, I could die here." He groaned, pulling back just enough to watch her entrance clench around nothing. "The Maiden must have crafted your perfect cunt by hand, my darling. She must have agonised over it for an aeon before letting you loose on this world."
He felt his head spin when she moaned so beautifully, her back arching again at his words, and her hands finally found purchase on his forearms, her nails digging into his skin. He dived back in, latching onto her twitching pearl and moaning to get a rise out of her. Lyonel doubled down now, sucking and flicking the tip of his tongue against her. He didn't stop for a moment when she started shaking or when she started calling his name again. He wanted it to hit as hard as it did for him.
Naeriah fought back a scream when her release slammed into her, her eyes rolling back and her thighs shaking as they clamped around Lyonel's head. After a particularly higher-pitched moan, he let go of her clit and moved back down to her entrance, where he drank from her like he would a fountain. Once he was done, he shifted his arms back under her so he could move her onto her back again.
She was back in the middle of the bed. Her shaking legs clamped shut, and her hips tilted one way while they were hooked over Lyonel's thigh as he lay over her. She was on her back, staring up at the black and red canopy while she tried to catch her breath and her Storm Knight lightly pressed kisses along her collarbones. Naeriah had her fingers tangled in the mess of curls on his head, needing to hold onto something while she calmed down enough to be able to speak.
"You're a fucking cunt." Lyonel softly laughed at his wife's words, moving his face up to hers and trailing kisses from her jaw to her temple.
"Take a look in the mirror, darling." He told her with a wicked smirk, kissing the corner of her mouth when she smiled.
She guided his face back so she could look at him.
"I want you inside me." She whispered, and he stroked her trembling thighs that were hooked over his right one.
"You're still shaking, darling." He whispered back, bumping his nose against hers.
"I want my husband." She persisted, bringing him closer to her face, until they were breathing one another's words. "I want to feel you fill me. I want all of you."
Lyonel kissed her quickly. "You have me." He said, kissing her again, just a touch longer than before. "You have all of me. You always will."
She let out a heavenly sigh when she felt him line up at her entrance, felt the head of his cock catch at her opening. He entered her slowly as his mouth latched onto her neck, sucking on her skin like it were a lifeline and he was lost at sea.
The slow stretch of him made her moan, made her grip his curls a little tighter while he sucked away at that same spot on her neck. When he bottomed out, one of her hands moved to his back, wrapping around his neck and holding him tighter against her, digging her finger nails into his skin. His thrusts were just as slow, but strong and deep, his hips rolling with a precision that had her breathless.
"Lyonel?" She called out softly, making him pull his head up from her neck and hum in response. He seemed drunk as he looked down at her, a soft smile with rosy cheeks and half-lidded eyes. "Please. I need you."
"You have me." He repeated with a certainty that had her throbbing, and he thrust no less slower, but harder. "Anytime, anywhere, anything. Always. I am yours. Yours alone."
The build up had been a slow one, pushing her closer and closer with every measured thrust. She started chanting his name softly, her eyes closed and head tilted back when he returned to that spot on her neck. She tried to warn him, tried to form the words but her mouth couldn't stop repeating his name.
"I'm here, darling." He rasped, moving to press his face into the side of hers and laying scorching kisses against her hot cheek in between his words. "Let go for me."
A low, long moan scratched its way out of her throat when that slow build up finally snapped. Lyonel echoing in kind at the feeling of her throbbing around him tightly, punishing himself in a way by slowing his thrusts to draw out his own release and savour the pleasurable sting of her tight grip around him. His own release had him shaking against her, pressing against her tightly as he tried to fuck his seed deeper and deeper into her warm cunt that was trying to suck him back in with every thrust.
After a while of holding one another, panting slowing down to normal breaths, Lyonel pulled out and he kissed at her cheeks when she hissed at his retreat. He stood on shaky legs, shooting her a look when she giggled at the sight before moving to the bowl of tepid water next to her bed and dipping in a soft cloth. He moved gently between her, kissed at the inside of her knee if she flinched and whispered promises into the space that was now theirs.
When he was done, he quickly did the same for himself before throwing the rag to somewhere behind him, causing her to giggle softly which made him smile wider. He laid down half on top of her on his stomach, his head nestled into the side of her neck, his arm protective around her waist and his legs tangled with hers. Her arm wrapped around his shoulders and her deft fingers wove into his curls, lightly scratching his scalp as they slowly drifted off together.
She fell asleep before him, only just, and he let out a content sigh when she turned her face towards his in her sleep to nose at his forehead.
Summary: naeriah discovers she quite likes the power she has over a man.
Warnings: SMUT, alcohol, they're both drunk but very consenting, a bit of voyeurism but it's not a kink, fingering, p in v, cum eating, cunnilingus, she does something else but idk the word for it lmao they're both having fun don't worry, lyonel could be considered ooc but he could also just be obsessed with a woman that laughs just as loud as him and wants to slurp at her pussy, idk if this would count as femdom so lemme know, no beta readers we die like robb stark à la red wedding
Word Count: 5.4k
A/N: Gonna say this right now. Naeriah Stormslayer is WELL FED. I am not tagging this as #PlusSize or #BodyPositivity. Skinny is not the default and it makes no sense for a princess to look malnourished. She has a NORMAL-SIZED, NORMAL-LOOKING BODY. And any sane person would be just as cuntstruck as Lyonel. My sources? I'm a freaky bisexual.
Pairing: Lyonel Baratheon x Targ!OC (Princess Naeriah Stormslayer of House Targaryen)
Born of a Tempest Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Character Aesthetic
Previous Part || Next Part
Maggie told her that there was a three-day party being held in a knights lavish house not far from the Red Keep. Some Stormlander sailor coming to visit his old friend and supplying all who attend with House Brandywyne's famous new brandy made from the oldest aged wine in Dorne. No one recognised Naeriah as she walked through the streets of her city. The hem of her skirts brushing her boot-clad legs as she walked in the cool breeze the night gave them.
The guards at the door of the knights residence took one look at the women and let them in, a man just past the doors putting cups of brandy in their hands with a jolly laugh. By the Mother, the brandy was nearly three times as strong as how Aunt Lenny made it, and she was a damn Brandywyne herself.
By the time the women made it to the houses dancing hall, both of them were lightheaded with giggles on their lips. There were three different groups of minstrels, presumably they were to take turns playing the loudest, most gaudy music the realm had yet to be graced with, and the group currently playing just finished a song as they entered. They started back up with another song and the drunken crowd cheered as they kept on dancing.
"Here!" Maggie yelled over the music, somehow holding two new cups in her hands and giving one to Naeriah. "Chug it!"
"What?" She yelled back.
"Chug it!" Maggie laughed.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
Maggie laughed harder, "Drink it all in one go!"
And that was how Naeriah found herself spinning around on the dance floor, linking arms with strangers and laughing so loud she lost her breath. Halfway through the second song, a man, a handsome man, a tall man, had stuck by her side through the dance and pushed anyone out of the way that tried to take his place. His dark eyes were glued to her, his darker curls a wild nest on his head, and his black shirt open on his chest just enough to tease her.
When the third song started they both bellowed with laughter at the lyrics as they danced. The fourth, and fifth songs were spent singing the lyrics at the top of their lungs in one another's faces, performing the songs like they were living it. At the end of the sixth song, he spun her out, his warm, rough hand clutching hers, and spinning her back into him. He locked her to his chest with his hands firm around her waist. He was taller than her by nearly a head and he smiled down at her at the look of absolute joy and wonder she was giving him.
Lyonel Baratheon thought this party was going to be a bust. His friend had long since married and become a father, and he made no promises that the night would bring half as much joy as the parties they had in the free cities. But Lyonel had escaped Storm's End at the news of his betrothal, for the chance to be a young man one more time before a Princess of the Realm was to kick his arse into shape. He had no doubt the Princess would be lovely, that's all anyone ever fucking says about her, but she was ten years his junior. And he wasn't like some other lords that went into heat at the thought of a little girl barely past her first moon blood. He wanted to feel alive again, one last time. And the gods answered his prayers.
If there was ever a woman after his own heart. It looked like this was the most fun she'd ever had in her life, something that made Lyonel want to whisk her away and take her to as many parties as possible. And gods, not only was her hair so beautiful -rich, Dornish curls bouncing with every move she made- framing her darling face like the gods themselves carved her from the earth, it smelled like the first day of spring in the Rainwood.
Lyonel was enchanted. Perhaps because he was drunk, but perhaps because all he'd heard from her pink, plush lips was an unrestrained laughter he'd never heard from a woman before tonight. The necklace she wore was from Bravos, made from iron coins that tarnished charmingly with earrings to match. It was beautiful on her, so beautiful that he wanted to tear it off to lick at the sweat that was rolling from her darling face, down her tempting throat, and to her soft chest that was teasing him with every heavy breath she took.
He had her pinned to his chest, the maddening scent of her hair clouding his mind and he brought her over to a table to sit down. He held her hand as he led her over, Naeriah pressing her body to his arm and holding onto his bicep when they were nearly separated. He chuckled down at her, a sound she barely heard over the music. He pulled a chair out for her with one hand, keeping a firm grip in hers with the other and they sat down at the same time in front of some food.
"Where have you come from, my lady?" He had leaned into her, lips tantalisingly pressed to her ear so he wouldn't have to yell.
Naeriah's eyes fluttered at the feeling, her head spinning and her thighs squeezing together. She's never had more than a sip of Aunt Lenny's brandy in her eighteen years alive, and she thought that it must be the buzz of the thrice strong drinks she'd had making her feel hot under her dress. He stayed in her space, waiting for her reply with attentive eyes watching her. She leaned in, purposely brushing the arm he was leaning on with her chest, and softly laying a hand on his chest. She liked this game.
"The Red Keep." She had decided that if anyone asked about her tonight, then she would say she was a maid there. "Where have you come from, Ser?"
The man was even more handsome up close. Now that she was in his space, she saw a handful of freckles dotting his face that had her wanting to trace them with her fingertips. When she had brushed her lips against his face to answer him, she caught sight of a dangly earring catching the light that she was tempted to take between her teeth and suck on.
She was surprised by how much she fixated on his beard. He was certainly older than her, the silver on his chin that was cut to a subtle point had her throbbing at the thoughts running through her mind. She thought back to the books that Aunt Lenny and Maggie had snuck her over the years, tails of noble ladies being ravished by their lovers many times throughout the night. She wondered if beards really did burn as deliciously as they say.
"The Stormlands." Lyonel answered vaguely. Gods forbid it got out that he was in the capital three days early partying like an animal.
"Really?!" Naeriah's eyes lit up like lightning had struck. "Tell me about it!"
Lyonel laughed, "Tell you about what?"
He pulled back to watch her smile as she thought, biting her bottom and casting her eyes up. He wanted to take her by the face and kiss her stupid.
"What about the Rainwood?" She finally asked, her soft lips brushing his ear and he breathed in the very scent of it in her hair again to ground himself.
"It's magical." He answered, his voice somehow lower and alluring.
She felt his beard scratch against the side of her face and her eyes fluttered closed. He smelt like the sea, like a sailor, and she wanted to pull him closer. Without realising, the hand on his chest bunched his shirt up into her fist at the same time she squeezed her thighs together and felt her slick.
They spoke a little while longer like that, pretending like she wasn't soaked and he wasn't hard. He asked her questions about the Red Keep, her favourite parts, the quiet parts, and she asked him about the Stormlands, his favourite places to hunt, the best place to witness a storm.
He fed her food from the table, popping red grapes in her mouth and grinning when she did the same, licking at her finger tips just to see what she would do. He found she liked deserts with lemon curd the most, but she told him that she could make them better. He found himself imagining her in the kitchens of Storm's End, wiping sweat from her brow as she stirred something boiling away in a pot. He imagined bending her over the counter and rutting into her until her legs gave out.
When he fed her a dessert that spilled onto his fingers he 'accidentally' swiped it onto her jaw with a seductive 'oops' as a response. He leaned in, licking once to get most of it and then sucking on her skin to get the rest. He didn't pull away when he was done. Naeriah's breathing grew heavier when he trailed those soft lips ever so slowly along her jaw and up to the corner of her mouth. She will deny it later, but she turned her head to his and met his lips in a searing kiss. As soon as it started, though, the Princess inside her appeared, and she pulled back just enough to slap him across the face.
If Lyonel wasn't hard before, by the seven, he certainly was now. She hadn't hit him very hard, a love tap he would call it later, but he was so shocked that his head had snapped to the side. He slowly tuned back to her with the beginning of a smirk, blinking at her in question. Naeriah looked mortified, her hands coming up to cover her mouth and her eyes were wide in horror.
"I'm sorry!" She blurted out, the music was lower now, they could hear one another in the space they shared, and she could hear the deep chuckle that rumbled in his chest.
"My dear, darling lady." He took the hand that struck him and brought it to his lips, kissing each finger and then her palm, having her cup his face as he nuzzled into it. His ministrations had the desired effect, she relaxed, and a shy smile that drove him mad graced her face. "Feel free to do that any time you please."
This time, Naeriah leaned in, using the hand he had pressed to his face to bring him in. She liked kissing him, like the feeling of his beard pressed to her, the taste of his tongue as it swirled with hers in a dance.
This was not her first time kissing -far from it. Maggie had taught her earlier in the year when she requested. Naeriah didn't know what to expect but all Maggie said was that you only learn by doing it, and then she grabbed her face and started.
Naeriah, as a result, kissed like she was kissing a woman, like she was in charge, and it drove Lyonel crazy. He picked her up with a growl, gripping her waist in one hand and her thigh in the other, sitting her on his lap and leaning back in his chair. His big hands squeezing the fat of her thighs on either side of him, then sliding up to the fat of her wide hips. He was nearly delirious when he felt the beginnings of a soft, pudgy lower belly that was sinfully hidden from him with her dress.
She rose above him, making him crane his head up as she practically dominated his mouth with a tight grip on his curls. He didn't even realise he was whimpering until she pulled back with a wet smack, her thumb coming to his mouth that he eagerly took in between his teeth to suck on. She looked at him like she had just discovered something new, her eyes wide, small seductive smile on her open lips, and he suddenly realised something.
"You still have your maidenhead, don't you?" His dark eyes twinkled up at her, flickering back and forth from her eyes to her lips, and his own spread into a smirk. She realised he was not mocking her, far from it, he was enchanted.
With her free hand, she reached down to take his, bringing it between them and under her skirts. He fought his eyes rolling back with a soft growl at the warm feeling of her wet cunt against his fingers, biting down softly at her thumb in his mouth. He cupped her firmly, his middle and ring finger slipping through her soaked lips to tease her opening. She quietly moaned, bringing her face closer to his so he could taste her sweet breath but deprived him of her heavenly mouth.
"Do you want it?" She asked, her sweet voice raspy with need and he felt her start to grind on his hand, coating it with her slick and making him twitch like he was green again. "You must promise to be nice to her."
"Oh, my darling lady." His voice now just as husky with his own desire, his eyes as dark as a storm as he took in the woman above him with a wide smile. "I promise to be very, very nice to her."
He inserted his middle finger, his smile widening at the way her eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure. He slowly pumped her, moving with her subtle grinding and inserted his ring finger. He moaned at how easy it was, at the stretch, at her clenching, at her whining.
Naeriah felt dizzy, her head spinning at the feeling of his thick fingers gently fucking her so deliciously, and the fire building within her. She wanted to devour him, keep him under her for days as she took what she wanted -what she needed- from this man. She liked his confidence, she revelled in it, but she wanted to know what it looked like to see him truly wanting. She had watched with curious eyes as he willed to hold himself back whenever she did something. She wanted to take him by the throat and fuck him stupid.
A pathetic whine escaped him before he could stop it when she pulled away. She stood between his legs, the table at her back, with a sweet smile and an innocent tilt of her head. He was panting. His eyes wide as she offered her hand for him to hold, which he took into his own faster than he's ever reached for a sword.
"Where would you like her, my Storm Knight?"
Lyonel nearly felt himself snap in half. Here, he wanted to say. Right here, in front of everyone would do. The chair scraped on the stone floor when he stood, making a loud noise at his speed and she giggled. She fucking giggled. He swiftly led her out of the dance hall, ignoring every familiar face that tried to talk to him and towards the stairs. He took them two at a time, making her joyfully laugh as she rushed to keep up. His friends house had a handful of rooms but right now Lyonel felt like he was in a never ending maze, the feeling of her tracing patterns on the back of his hand had him picking up his pace.
Finally he found the door to his room, slamming it open and spinning to face her. He crashed into her, cupping her face in his hands and messily kissing her. She moaned, a sweet sound that drove him up the wall, and he blindly reached out behind her to close the door and press her up against it. Their teeth clinked together and spit started to drip down their chins at his efforts to control the kiss, but Naeriah had other ideas. With one hand under his chin to grip his bearded jaw, and the other tangled in his perfect dark curls, she roughly tugged, separating their mouths so she could hear him whimper.
His hands at her plush waist tightened in a way that had her clenching, a smirk crossing her face as they panted into one another's mouths. The hand at his jaw slid downwards, teasing past his throat, and firmly pressing down his chest and stomach. He moaned when she started to rub her hand against his hard cock, his hips stuttering and his eyes closing. She nipped at his lips here and there, smiling wide as she watched him chase her mouth every time.
Lyonel took a hold of her wrist and held it against the door so hard that she prayed it would bruise. He pressed against her, his head falling to the crook of her neck and he rubbed his face at the sensitive skin there. She let out a beautiful sound, something between a giggle, a sigh and a moan, that had him lavishing her jaw with wet, sloppy kisses to try and regain some control. He brought his head up to look down at her, her eyes glazed over and a wide smile greeting him.
The hand holding hers against the door went to her skirts, lifting them with a desperate pace as she joined him. He quickly unlaced his trousers with the other hand, not caring if he tore any of the fabric in his haste and finally releasing his painfully hard cock. She hitched her leg up, wrapping it around his hip and when he hooked it over his arm instead, gripping under her thigh, he felt all that wonderful chub he'd been indulging in turn to firm muscle. He took his cock and ran it through her dripping folds, breath stuttering at how warm she felt and revelling in her moan when he bumped against her clit. He did it again, teasing her until her cheeks burned.
She felt him line his cock up with her entrance after gathering some of her slick to coat himself, and she moaned the loudest she had all night when he entered her. He went slow, torturously slow, to the point that she felt tears welling up at the intensity. When he was all the way in, his hips flush with hers, one of her hands reached down to take a hold of his plump ass. Her other hand tangled in his curls and tugged to get his attention.
"Move." She demanded, panting heavily and digging her nails into his clothed ass. "Now."
He pulled back, almost all the way out with the tip rubbing against the nerves of her entrance maddeningly, before sharply thrusting in again.
"Maidens tits!" Naeriah yelled out, her head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth agape. They were in a V shape, her against the door and him leaning back to thrust.
Lyonel laughed in delight. His free hand reaching under her skirts to properly grab at the fat of her hip, relishing in the way everything he could feel jiggled with every one of his hard thrusts. He adjusted both of them, thrusting up at a different angle and she groaned in surprise, face snapping back to look at him with wide eyes and an open, set jaw. She looked at him like he offended her by pleasuring her and he laughed again, thrusting harder and making her moan again. Every time he got a sound out of her, she looked like she was fighting herself. Not to stay quiet. No, it seemed she rather enjoyed the loud noises they both made. It was like she was fighting to not let him know. Which was a challenge he was more than willing to take.
He pressed his body against hers now, lips finding her neck, chest pressed against hers, and the course hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her twitching clit, driving her insane. Her hand came up from his ass and wrapped around his neck, scratching lightly down to the little bit of chest peaking through his shirt. She felt his hips go from long and bruising, and switching to rolling, grinding thrusts that had her eyes rolling back at the feeling of him grinding against her clit.
Naeriah couldn't stop the long, drawn-out, high-pitched moan that left her mouth at this new angle, and her fist tightened in Lyonel's hair at the feeling of his teeth against her neck. The coil in her belly had been slowly tightening ever since he finger fucked her in the dance hall, but right now she felt it tightening faster and faster, felt herself hurtling towards a feeling she's never had before.
"Take it." He groaned into her neck with a wicked smile, lazily kissing his way to her mouth and pressing his sweaty forehead to hers. "Fucking take it."
She felt the coil snap. Naeriah went rigid in his arms for a moment before she started desperately clawing him closer like she was in pain, her hips bucking out of her control, and biting at his clothed shoulder like it would help.
Lyonel felt himself falter, hips stuttering at the vice her cunt had become and the feeling of her teeth biting down on his shoulder. He lasted a few more thrusts before spilling himself inside her with a strangled groan, his head tilted back and his eyes squeezed shut.
Anyone would think with a scene like that playing out the way it did, that the couple would be completely spent. Naeriah certainly thought that would be the end of it, maybe getting in another dance before finding Maggie and leaving a head of schedule for the castle. Lyonel had a different plan entirely. Cumming inside her made him feel insane in the head and he needed to see her.
He pulled out of her, carefully of course, swallowing up her moan with a sloppy kiss before grabbing her other leg and picking her up. She squealed out a laugh against his mouth, his own breaking into a wide smile as he laid her down on the edge of the bed and kneeled down in between her thighs. She looked at him confused, her head tilting and her wild, soft brown curls moving with her. He only smirked, bunching up her skirts to her hips and grabbing her by the thighs to scoot her ass on the edge of the bed.
"What are you-" She cut herself off when he leaned down and hooked her thick thighs over his shoulders, nuzzling his beard against the plush skin.
"There she is." He sighed lustfully, biting his lip at the sight of her puffy cunt that was leaking his spend. His cock twitching when he noticed her slick coated the dark curls that surrounded his prize.
When she whimpered, he looked up at her and winked. She felt him bring an arm over her hips and she grabbed at her skirts to lift them higher to see him better. Her mouth dropped open in a scandalised moan when she felt his tongue lick from her ass to her clit. None of Aunt Lenny's book ever mentioned a man doing that.
Her hips bucked as best they could against his strong arm at the feeling of his tongue entering her over and over. His nose bumping her clit just as much and the fucking noises he was making were obscene. He slurped at her, little moans vibrating against her cunt had her eyes rolling back. Thoughts of how dirty this was filled her mind, how he was eating his own seed from her like it was his gods given duty, like he would die if his mouth left her. She wanted him to do it every night for the rest of her life. She felt herself throbbing, the coil tightening again, so much faster than before.
He moved from her battered hole, tongue and lips languidly exploring as he made his way to her oversensitive pearl like he had all the time in the world. He stroked her hip when he felt her start to tremble and he pulled his mouth away with a smacking noise as he looked up at her. She was on her back now, panting like an animal with an arm over her eyes.
"My love?" He called to her, a soft but lustful smirk still placed firmly on his wet lips. She started to sit up, dragging herself up like she had no energy and he quickly placed a chaste kiss to the curls on her mound. She laid back on her elbows watching him with half-lidded eyes and her mouth open to pant. "Eyes on me."
Two fingers slipped in, hooking forward to hit the spot inside her that she didn't know was real. His mouth opened along with hers when she let out a long, drawn-out moan. Not to mock, but in mimic, like he was so focussed on her that he couldn't help it. He kept it up, hitting that spot again and again, holding her hips down as they tried to grind against him.
"Like that?" He asked, his voice breathy and desperate. She moaned again, nodded her head vigorously and twisted the sheets in her fists. He wished this moment would never end, listening to her pussy squelch around his fingers, the heady smell of her sex overwhelming his senses, the taste of his seed and her nectar mixed together just a lick away on his lips, and the saint-like sight of her above him as he did everything he could to rearrange her guts with his fingers. "Words, love. Let me hear, my darling."
"Fuck you! Like that!" She nearly yelled, trying her hardest to glare at him through the pleasured moans that tumbled from her mouth. He laughed in delight, winking again before nosing his way into her cunt again to harshly suck on her pearl. "Fuck! Just like that! Don't stop!"
While sucking it into his mouth, his tongue came forward and started flicking over it. Oh, how he adored the reaction he got. Her trembling thighs clamped around his head in a grip that was making him light-headed and he felt her back arch. Her cunt tensed around his fingers and he new she was right there.
Naeriah felt her whole body shake when the coil snapped again. She felt his fingers leave her and his mouth move back down to her entrance as he slurped up the slick that was gushing from her, both of his hands moving to grab her ass and lift her hips up to his mouth with a desperate moan. Her chest heaved and she tangled her fingers through his curls to scratch at his scalp. He moaned again and she felt that hunger return to her belly. She slowly sat up running her other hand through his hair and peeling him off her cunt with a smile.
"My Storm Knight. My kind Storm Knight." She cooed, stroking his wet cheeks as he looked up her like she hung the moon. She looked down to his cock to see it hard again, red at the tip and leaking more of his seed. She smiled a giddy smile, slipping from the edge of the bed to her knees on his lap. "Lie back, my Storm Knight. You have taken such good care of her. Please, lie back for me."
Like he was in a trance, he kicked his legs out, holding her waist as he lowered himself back to the floor. She followed part of the way, teasing him with brushes of her lips against his but straightened up and pushed him down with a hand on his chest until he went all the way down. She smirked down at him, readjusting slightly until his cock was laying on his bare abdomen and nestled in the warm, wet folds of her pussy.
She smirked down at him when she felt him twitch against her and she started to slowly, ever so slowly, drag her heated centre up and down the length of him. She was delighted when he moaned at the delicious rocking of her hips, gripping them tightly as she slowly sped up her pace.
She looked down at him with the same look as before, with a lustful curiosity, and she pulled her skirts up to watch what she was doing to him. She giggled when his hands scrambled to go under her skirts and take two handfuls of her ass, gripping what he could and moaning at the the rest spilling between his fingers.
"Is this acceptable, my love?" She coyly asked him, his eyes rolling back and baring his throat for her at the affection. She brought her forefinger to his chin, and then slowly dragged it down the centre of his throat, smiling wider when he shivered at the feeling
"Very." He choked out, making her laugh joyfully above him when she felt his Adams apple bob under finger when he spoke.
By the gods, a woman after his own heart.
Much like her before, his body trembled when he came, his vision going white as pathetic moans tumbled from him without his permission. She gasped at the sight of his seed spilling across his clothed stomach and giggled at the feeling of his cock twitching between her folds, eyes wide in wonder as she watched him. He tried his best to stop the rocking of her hips, the overstimulation bringing tears to his eyes, but she only stopped when he called out to her.
"darling! Fuck! My love!" She immediately got off him, sitting back on his thick thighs and stroking his hands that were gripping her thighs.
He had a delirious smile on his face, completely fucked out as he fondled at the meat of her sinful thighs. He opened his eyes, the sight of her studying him with a sweet smile on her face greeting him and making him sit up. He pulled her closer again, bumping his nose with hers a couple of times, making her giggle and filling him with joy.
Oh, how he loved to make her laugh.
She jumped when the door creaked open, her hands at his shoulders gripping him tighter and pulling him in. His arms circled her waist and brought her closer, pressing his face against the side of hers and sucking at the skin just under her jaw. A dark skinned woman popped her head in, a look of confusion passing over her face before she shook it off.
"Maggie!" Naeriah scolded, making Lyonel chuckle at her tone. She can't act scandalised at being caught with a man when she was doing what she was doing earlier.
"We need to leave." Maggie said. "Now."
Maggie closed the door and Naeriah started to get up from his lap. He let out a questioning whine and she simply rolled her eyes at him before continuing. He followed her up, tucking himself back into his trousers while she straightened up her dress. When they were both done they just looked at one another for a moment.
"Come back tomorrow night." He reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing her knuckles. Come back to me, he wanted to say.
"I want to." She took a step closer and he kissed again.
"Then come back." He whispered his plea.
"I can't." It looked like her answer agonised her, and she gripped his hand tighter.
"Why?" His other arm circled her waist, pulling her in and he caught the scent of her hair again.
"I… I'm betrothed." She thought he would surely let her go now, but he only held on tighter.
"As am I." He answered, another kiss to her knuckles, another kiss that should've been to her lips. "Betrothed, not yet married. We've committed no crime, my love."
Her eyes closed in bliss at the affection and he saw how he was slowly winning when she opened them again.
"I'll see." He smiled a wide smile down at her and she took her hand back and stepped away. "No promises."
When she got to the door he softly called out to her. "Goodnight, my lady."
She gave him one last shy smile. "Good night, my Storm Knight."
The door closed with a soft click and Lyonel sat down heavily on the bed.
Summary: naeriah and lyonel make it look like they're planning on taking over the entire realm one pregnancy at a time.
Warnings: maybe a little sad due to how they name their kids but there's a good mix of fluff dw, no beta readers we die like robb stark à la red wedding
Word Count: 370
A/N: I couldn't help myself lmao hope you like it.
Pairing: Lyonel Baratheon x Targ!OC (Princess Naeriah Stormslayer of House Targaryen)
Born of a Tempest Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Character Aesthetic
Previous Part
Baelora Baratheon, born 210 AC || "my uncle is forcing me to go to some fucking thirteen-year-olds' birthday tourney without you. yes I know we're in the stables right now, but no one is around, relax."
- Named for her mother's late father, Prince Baelor "Breakspear" Targaryen, who died eight months before her birth.
Caessana Baratheon, born 212 AC || "that lord said you had pretty eyes."
- Named for her father's late mother, Lady Cassandra Estermont, who died from a sickness that struck Storm's End in 209.
Argaella Baratheon, born 214 AC || "that lady said you weren't as pretty as her daughter on our wedding anniversary."
- Named for her father's late sister, Lady Argella Baratheon, who died after falling from her horse when she was a child.
Aerylla Baratheon, born 217 AC || "that squire looked at you for too long." // "what? when I was shovelling horse shit from the stables?" // "yes."
- Named for her mother's uncle, King Aerys I Targaryen, as she was born on the same day as him.
Maekalla Baratheon, born 221 AC || "I asked the blacksmith to make you a ring for our anniversary, and he did too good of a job. I think he wants to fuck you."
- Named for her mother's uncle, King Maekar I Targaryen, as her mother went into labour during his coronation and was born before the sun set.
Jena and Lenora Baratheon, born 224 AC || "it's just a feast celebrating prince duncan's birth, darling. no one will actually notice our absence this time."
- Named for their mother's late mother and aunt, Lady Jena Dondarrion and Queen Lenora Brandywyne, as the former had perished during the Great Spring Sickness in 209 and the latter had been present for the entire pregnancy.
Ormund Baratheon, born 228 AC || "it's fine, I'll pull out."
- Named for his father's grandfather, Lord Ormund Baratheon, who raised his father when he was orphaned as a teenager.
Lawsyn Baratheon, born 230 AC || "let's take a ride in the rainwood at sunrise like we used to. we'll do it for our anniversary and make it special."
- Named for his mother's sworn sword, Ser Lawsen Cantell, who died defending his mother from bandits while riding just outside of Storm's End three months before his birth.
