❆ Northbound ❆
King in the North! Jon Snow x Fem! reader
Part 2/?
part 1 here! :)
Summary: It's the day of your wedding, and it's no surprise you're terrified. The day goes off without a hitch, but when you and Jon are alone in his chambers, will your mind be changed?
Warnings: mild smut, grinding, clitoral stimulation, service dom jon (duh)
w/c: 6.3k
a/n: I'm sorry this took so long! Unfortunately I had to spend my brain power writing lab reports this week, but it's finally here! no p in v yet because ms reader is a scaredy cat but I had to give the girls something. Y'all should've seen the way I was researching northern weddings, I didn't realize there wasn't a ton of examples in the show. Just Sansa and Ramsey (fuck that evil bitch). I consulted the wiki because I'm annoying and tried to make it as lore accurate as possible. Hope you all enjoy!
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Three days seemed to fly by in a blur.
Most of the time you spent walking the courtyard, sitting in the library, or trying to tell the servants ‘I’m fine’ for the hundredth time. Jon made sure that you wanted for nothing and that you did not have to lift a single finger. You appreciated that, of course, but you wouldn’t get five minutes to breathe without someone coming in and asking you a million questions.
Your wedding is tonight, at nightfall, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t terrified. Your previous conversation with Jon did help, but there was still so much unknown that you couldn’t wrap your head around.
A sharp knock breaks the silence. Your head snaps up.
Your head shoots up at the noise. You’ve been sitting in your chambers for about an hour, just staring at the wall.
“Hello?” you call out
“My Lady, the seamstress has asked me to fetch you, the dress is complete.”
Ah, your wedding dress. You stand yourself up off the edge of the bed, and open the door. You see Lyessa standing there, she's the one who brings you your breakfast every morning.
“Thank you, Lyessa, after you”
You had been excited to see the dress. A few days ago, the seamstress took your measurements and scribbled down your ideas before waving you off like a child underfoot. A new dress had always brought you joy. The anticipation, the feel of fresh fabric against your skin, the moment you first saw it complete. Even this one. Even if it marked the end of the life you had imagined for yourself.
Lyessa opens the door and steps aside without a word.
And there it is, hung with care. By the gods, it’s beautiful.
You step closer, your fingers reaching out before you can think better of it. The fabric is soft beneath your touch, cool and smooth where it isn’t trimmed in fur.
The bodice is intricately embroidered with silver and white thread, delicate patterns that shimmer faintly in the light. The sleeves are long and fitted, ending in soft white fox fur at the wrists. The skirt falls heavy and full, lined with fur along the hem to guard against the northern cold. Practical, yes. But no less elegant for it.
“Do you like it?” The seamstress pops her head out from behind the long gown, a sewing needle in her mouth.
“I love it, so much” your words are breathless.You’ve never seen anything quite like this.
“Well, let's put it on.”
You wince a bit at how tight she pulls on the laces in the back, but you’re grateful the gown is warm. You don't want to freeze in the godswood tonight. The seamstress physically turns your body toward the mirror.
The gown fits around your body perfectly. Your fingers run over the small embroidered direwolf that sits on the collar of your dress. A small smile ghosts your lips.
“How do I look?” you catch the seamstress's eyes in the mirror.
“Like a queen.”
Before you can respond, you're rushed away by three girls. You did not remember their names, but you know you’ve seen them before.
“My lady, we’re here to do your hair!” One of them speaks with a wide smile on her face
You smile back at her kindly. This girl seemed far more excited for this wedding than you do. Probably because she is.
You are sat down in a stool while the girl's fingers run through your hair, intricately braiding strands here and pinning others there.
“Your Grace, your hair is beautiful”
Your breath catches at her words, the title lands heavier than you expect. “You don’t have to call me that just yet” you laugh nervously.
“But we will in a few hours, why not start now?” the girl giggles, pinning the last piece of your hair into place.
You don’t know how the hell you’re going to manage being a queen. Jon said he would teach you everything you need to know, but some things can’t be taught. You’ve never had much grace. You were too excitable to sit still, and you can’t keep your mouth shut to save your life.
“And done! Tada!”
The girls step back together. Your hair has never looked better.
You tilt your head, trying to catch every angle in the mirror. “Thank you, ladies. So much.”
“Your Grace,” they say in unison as they curtsey, then leave you alone with your thoughts.
You’re not sure what happens next. And you definitely don’t want to wander the halls and risk Jon seeing you before the ceremony. That would be bad luck, and you need all the luck you can get.
You stand up from the stool and turn slightly in front of the mirror, watching the skirt shift and sway around your feet.
You freeze at the sound of your name.
Sansa.
“You look beautiful,” she says. Her eyes are shining, and there’s a wide smile on her face. She doesn’t smile as much as she used to, but you’re glad she still smiles at you.
“Thank you,” you reply softly. Your hands curl into fists at your sides. Nervous habit.
“How are you feeling? And don’t lie to me.” She crosses the room and takes your hand in hers.
“Scared,” you admit. “I don’t know why.”
She looks at you with those gentle eyes. Normally, you hate when people look at you that way. But not Sansa. With her, it feels different.
“I know. Believe me, I know.”
Your heart drops. Talking about how nervous you are feels wrong, especially to her. After everything she’s survived, marrying Jon shouldn't scare you. It should be easy.
“Oh, Sansa. I’m sorry. You don’t have to listen to me.”
She hushes you, her fingers still wrapped around yours.
“But this isn’t what you wanted,” she says. “I know what you wanted.”
Your eyes fill with tears. “It wasn’t going to work for me,” you whisper. “And I think that’s okay.”
She rests her head gently on your shoulder. The quiet comfort brings a smile to your face.
“You’re going to make a wonderful queen,” she says. “And an even better wife. Jon will be good to you. He’s kind and loving. He would let the world burn before letting anything happen to you. That, I promise.”
She lifts her head to look you in the eye.
“Good. I’m glad you’re crying now, before they come in to do your makeup.”
You sniffle and let out a soft laugh. Her words warm your chest. It really will be okay.
The door opens again, and a new woman steps inside.
“Your Grace, I’m here to do your makeup.”
You wipe your eyes quickly and give her a small smile.
“Hm. Your Grace,” Sansa teases. “I’m not calling you that.”
“Oh yes you will. And I’ll make you curtsy when you do.”
You both laugh as you squeeze her hand.
“I have to go now,” she says. “But if you need me, send for me. I’ll come right away.”
You squeeze her hand again and watch as she slips out the door.
“Sorry about that,” you say to the makeup artist, settling back onto the stool.
After sitting for what felt like an eternity, your makeup was finally done. You look in the mirror and smile. You look really good.
“Thank you, so much” you smile at the woman.
“Your Grace.” she curtsies and walks out, leaving you alone once again.
You wish your family could be here. Your real family, not the imposters who showed up the day you moved into the reach. You yearn for the woman your mother used to be. She would have scooped you up right here and whispered into your ear until you calmed down. She would have encouraged you to marry Jon because he was a good man, not because of any so-called ‘duty’ as a woman. You remind yourself that she's not there anymore. That woman is gone.
“Your Grace, It’s time”
Your head whips to the door. Lyessa is standing there with her hands clasped in front of her and a soft smile on her face. “You look like the most beautiful queen that has ever lived. Now let us get this cloak on you.” You had almost forgotten, she places the cloak around your shoulders. Your maiden cloak was white with a yellow centaur, wielding a bow and arrow on it. The crest of House Caswell.
You stand and smile at her genuinely. “Thank you Lyessa” you walk behind her out towards the godswood.
Your breath catches when you see the long stretch of lanterns, they illuminate the path to the weirwood tree. Jon stands in front of it, with Sansa next to him. On either side of the path are many lords and ladies. Some you recognize, and some you don’t. They all know who you are though. You feel a presence next to you.
“I haven’t seen you since your ninth name day.”
“Uncle!” you laugh and envelop him in a tight hug. Your mothers younger brother, Lord Dustin of Barrowtown stood next to you. You’ve never been happier to see someone you hardly knew.
“You need a family member to escort you down the aisle. Your mother wrote to me. I heard the king was getting married, but I had no idea it was you.”
Your heart warms at his words. Your mother wrote to him. You take a steady breath and wrap your arm around his. “Let's do this.”
Your uncle starts to walk you down the path, you turn your head to look at the crowd watching, offering small smiles. You turn your eyes ahead, offering a small smile to Jon.
Your uncle stops before the tree, and looks to Sansa.
“Who comes before the Old Gods tonight?” Sansa speaks softly, looking at your Uncle.
Your uncle speaks your name, placing a hand on your arm. “Who has come to claim her?”
Jon steps forward, his eyes never leaving you. “Jon Snow of House Stark. King in the North” he looks to your uncle “Who gives her away?”
Your uncle speaks “Her uncle, Harrion Dustin, Lord of Barrowtown.” He looks at you and offers you a small squeeze before stepping off to the side.
Sansa turns her attention to you “Do you accept this man?”
You breathe softly “I do”
Sansa smiles at you and steps to the side. It is just you and Jon in front of the tree now, and he's looking at you.
“You look so beautiful” He whispers at you and takes your hands, standing you in front of him.
“Thank you” you whisper back, gazing at the weirwood tree, before looking back at Jon.
You and Jon kneel before the tree, still hand in hand. Jon starts to speak.
“I am yours, and you are mine. From this day until my last day. I will stand by you in snow and storm, in silence or in war. I will keep no secrets from you, and I will not turn away. You are my home now, and I am yours. Before the Old Gods, I swear it.” He looks so deeply in your eyes, you’re afraid he can see your very soul. His words make your heart beat fast, and heat creeps up to your cheeks.
It’s your turn to speak. You take in a deep breath before continuing. “I am not quick with trust, nor gentle with my words. But what I give, I give truly. My loyalty is not light, and my silence is never empty. I will speak when it matters, I will stand when others flee, And I will meet you where you are, In snow, in storm, in silence. I am yours. And I will not falter. Before the Old Gods, I swear it.”
Jon's hands tighten around yours as he smiles at your words. He leans in and kisses you softly. You feel like your head is about to explode. You have no idea what to do, so you keep your head still. He pulls back and rises, helping you up next to him.
Wordlessly he removes your maiden cloak, and places another one upon your shoulders. A white cloak with a direwolf on it, the Stark crest.
You turn around to look at him. He's already looking at you with a big smile.
“Are you ready?” He speaks softly. You give him a nod and he lifts you up into his arms, walking you both into the Great Hall as the guests follow, cheering behind you.
You and Jon sit at the head table at the very front of the great hall. You had forgotten how noisy northern weddings were, but you weren’t complaining.
“How do you feel?” Jon whispers in your ear, a smile on his face.
“I feel pretty good, I think.” You smile back at him softly. You fiddle with your fingers, absentmindedly trying to quell your nerves. Your eyes look over to the cup next to Jon. “What are you drinking?”
“Ale. Would you like a sip?” Jon eyes you for a moment. “Your father isn’t here to shout at you.” He laughs softly.
You take the cup and bring it to your lips. Your nose crinkles in disgust. “That is not good.” you start to laugh.
Jon laughs at your face “People don’t drink it for the taste. You get used to it.”
Your head shakes “I will not.”
“I have someone I would like you to meet, follow me” Jon stands and takes your hand. Helping you off the chair. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world.” He blurts out, staring at you.
You stand up and face him, your cheeks heating at his words. You can’t seem to even have a coherent thought. “Uh um thank you.” You finally spit out.
Jon looks at you for another moment before walking, bringing you over to a couple. A young man with the kindest face you’ve ever seen, a very pretty woman, and the cutest toddler in her arms.
Jon introduces you to the small family. “This is my best friend Samwell Tarly, his wife Gilly Tarly, and their son little Sam.”
You smile widely at the family and coo at little Sam.
“It's so nice to meet you, Your Grace.” Gilly looks at you with a smile and tries to curtsy with the small boy in her arms
“Oh no please, you don't need to call me that.” You smile at her and give her your name. “Any friend of Jon's is a friend of mine.”
Gilly and Sam smile at you and give a small look to Jon. A look at you miss because you’re too busy staring at little Sam.
“Would you like to hold him?” Gilly asks, extending her arms out to you.
You hardly let her finish before you grab the small boy with a smile on your face. “Oh hello there, handsome guy!” You coo at him with little giggles, and your heart melts when he smiles up at you and nuzzles into your arms. Your head turns back up to Sam “I just love children”
Sam smiles at you and looks over at Jon “I am so happy for you.”
Jon pats him on the arm and goes in for a hug. His eyes are still staring at you and little Sam. You were a natural, the way you held him and spoke to him. He would be lying if he said the thought of you doing that with his children one day didn’t make his pants tighten, but he quickly pushed that aside.
“Thank you both so much for coming.” You look up at the couple. “I know it is a long journey from home. I’m from the Reach as well.”
Sam looks at you, confused. “I thought you were from the North?”
You smile at him. “I was born up north, but my father inherited his ancestral home in The Reach not long after my ninth name day. Lord Caswell.”
Sam's face falters at your words slightly. “Oh, I have heard of him.”
You stifle a laugh “You don’t need to be polite, Sam, I know my father is an ass.”
Jon laughs at your unexpected words, and Sam looks relieved “Mine was too, so I understand.”
Little Sam starts to fuss in your arms, you almost begrudgingly hand him back to Gilly with a smile. ”He is the cutest little boy I think I’ve ever seen.”
Gilly beams at your compliment.
“We will leave you both to it, congratulations Your Graces.” Sam, Gilly, and little Sam walk away after bidding you both a small smile. You turn to Jon.
“He was so cute, did you see his little face?” You gush
“Aye, I was there when he was born.” Jon nods. “Very cute.”
You look around the room, catching the eyes of the various Lords and Ladies that you hadn’t seen in years. “There are so many people here” you lean in and whisper to Jon.
He nods, looking around as well. “They’re here to meet the new queen.”
Something about his words make you shiver. He places a hand on your back, guiding you to the main table. He pulls out your chair before taking a seat.
A thought crosses your mind and you turn nervously to Jon. “There is not going to be a bedding ceremony, right?” You’ve only seen one, your cousin. You were about six years old. The very thought frightens you.
Jon shakes his head. “No, I would not allow that to happen.” His voice is serious
“Okay” you sigh, relieved “Good.” you glance at Jon again, words hovering on your lips.
“And, you haven’t changed your mind about tonight, right?” When you first spoke, Jon had told you that you did not need to worry about the wedding night. He would not lay a hand on you that you did not want.
Jon's eyes soften at you “Of course not. I haven’t changed my mind, have you?”
You shake your head at him “I don’t think so.”
He smiles at you, and places his larger hand over yours.
“But, uh, they do say it is bad luck for a marriage, when the bride and groom spend their wedding night apart.” You stutter out nervously, looking away from Jon.
He smiles at you, his own heart racing. “Well we can’t have that.”
The party drags on for a while, various noble people coming up to your table and congratulating you both. Happy to have a queen, hoping for little princes and princesses soon. Your cheeks glow at their words. This goes on and on for hours.
“Do you want to stay?” Jon leans down at you, a smile gracing his lips.
“Do you?” You ask back.
“No” he states “I’m so tired”
You giggle “Then lets go, before someone notices we’re gone”
With that, Jon takes your hand and leads you to his chambers.
“I had someone bring a nightgown in for you” He smiles softly.
You can feel the heat in your ears at this point. “Thank you” you look around the room a bit “do you think you could?”
“Oh, sorry.” Jon turns around, giving your privacy to take off your large and presumably heavy wedding gown.
“Jon” you whisper sheepishly “I can’t undo these tortuous laces”
“Let me help” he turns around, almost instantly finding your back. He starts to untie. He feels guilty for looking, but he can’t help it, every lace he loosens reveals more of your back. The skin he dreamed of as a child. You feel the gown loosen enough to be slipped off and give him a small “thank you”. You turn your head to make sure he turns around again, before slipping the gown off and stepping into your nightgown. “Okay, you can look now” you mutter softly “I’m too lazy to take my hair down just yet”
Jon looks at you, and he's mesmerized. You are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. And now you’re his.
“What are you looking at?” you ask sheepishly, feeling unsteady on your own feet.
“You. You look beautiful.” he states, his eyes never leaving yours.
“I’m in a nightgown, it's a piece of white fabric.” You say shyly, trying to laugh off his intense stare.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re in it.” Your face feels like it's going to explode.
There's a small knock at the door, Jon finally takes his eyes off you. You feel like you can breathe. You hear a small conversation, and Jon closes the door again. Holding two glasses, and two metal pitchers.
“I had them bring us some Ale…and wine for your southern taste” He says with a smile, and places them on the small table.
“Nothing about me is southern” you pout “You can take the girl out of the North, but you can’t take the North out of the girl.”
Jon laughs and pulls out a chair “Come here”
You take a seat and watch him sit down across from you, pouring you a glass of wine and pouring himself ale.
You and Jon sit for hours, exchanging stories and laughing loudly.
“Jon, I think the wine is getting to me” you giggle out, your face warm.
“You’re drunk” Jon says back with a goofy smile on his face.
“So are you!” you laugh loudly “My husband is a bad influence on me.”
Jon's eyes are soft when he looks at you. “And my wife is a lightweight”
You smile at him. “Jon, I have a question.”
“What is it?”
“Do people kiss regularly, or is it a special occasion type of thing?”
Jon blinks a few times at your question, you continue.
“The only time I’ve seen people kiss are at weddings. But in a book I read, the husband and wife kiss all the time.”
Jon smiles at you softly “It depends.”
“Depends on what?”
Jon thinks to himself for a moment
People in love kissed often, didn’t they? He wouldn’t know, but he doubted anyone in Westeros wanted to kiss their wife as badly as he did right now
“It depends on how they feel about each other.”
You nod softly, in thought. The drunk flush is still prevalent on your cheeks.
“If I wanted to kiss you… would that be okay?” you ask, barely louder than a breath.
Jon doesn’t answer right away. He just stands, closes the space between you, and gently lifts you into his arms, settling you in his lap as he sits again.
“That would be more than okay.”
You gasp softly at the closeness, then lean in and kiss him.
Jon kisses you back, and places his hand on the side of your face.
You try to mirror his actions, the way he moves his lips against you. Your kiss is clumsy, you’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re doing. His heart swells. He pulls away, his hands still cradling your face. You’re still sat in his lap.
“Now I’ll be expecting at least one of those every day” He muses at you, and kisses your forehead softly.
“Okay, I can do that.” You smile at him.
Jon seems lost in thought for a moment before looking down at you in his arms. “What kind of books are you reading?”
You blink at him “Just books” you try and shrug it off. “I spent a lot of time in the library these past few days”
He smiles again “Books where the husband and wife are what, just kissing all the time?”
Your mouth goes dry at his words “yes, and that is all.”
Jon raises his eyebrow, he knows what those books are. Romance novels about a princess and a knight, they fuck and marry and everyone lives happily ever after. A part of him aches at the thought of you learning these things from something other than him.
He knows you’re untouched.
it’s obvious in the way you blush, the way you stumble over words. What he doesn’t yet understand is just how innocent you really are.
“Why are you reading those books?” Jon asks thoughtfully, trying to understand.
“To learn” you look around, anywhere but him, as you’re held tightly in his lap.
“Learn what?” Jon asks. He can see the flush in your face, and feel your heart beating.
“Things I don’t know.” you swallow
“Well yes, that’s what learning is.” Jon laughs a bit. “You don’t have to be nervous.”
“Jon, I told you I don’t know how to be a wife. I don’t know the things.” You sputter out.
“And I told you I’d teach you, didn’t I?” Jon’s fingers gently lifted your chin, coaxing your eyes to meet his.
You nodded, a shaky breath slipping past your lips.
“What do you know about it?” He asked softly, careful not to frighten you, though he couldn’t ignore how close you were, or how that closeness unsettled him more than he expected.
You fidgeted with your hands, voice barely above a whisper. “I know... that a man enters his wife, and that’s how she gets pregnant.”
Jon considered your words carefully. “That’s true,” he said slowly, “but there’s more to it than that. It’s a way for two people to share something close and to be together, not just to make children.”
Your cheeks flamed hot at his words. “I thought it was supposed to hurt?”
He gave you a small, reassuring smile, his gaze steady and gentle. “The first time can be painful, yes. But after that, it’s different. And there are ways to be close that don’t always mean... entering.”
Heat pooled low in your belly, leaving you breathless. Your mouth opened and closed for a moment before you whispered, “Like what?”
Jon swallows the lump in his throat, one hand still on your face and the other has moved to your hip. “You can use your hands.” he looks down at you. “On each other”
You instinctively squeeze your thighs together at his words, the feeling is foreign to you.
Jon catches your movement out of the corner of his eye. A small smile crosses his face. “Do you want me to show you?” His voice comes out husky, his eyes are dark.
Your breath hitches for a moment, the aching feeling between your legs grows stronger with his words. You nod.
With that, Jon kisses you again. Not as soft as last time, but he's still careful. He smiles against your lips before pulling away. “At any point if you want this to stop, just say the word.” His eyes get serious as he's looking at you. “I promise, I’m not going to be upset.”
You’re still trying to catch your breath after that kiss, you nod at him, understanding.
Jon moves your body on his lap so that your back is pressed to his chest, and your legs are hooked over top of his. “I’m just going to touch your legs now, warm you up, is that alright?”
Your heart is beating so fast, your head spins a bit. “Yes, that's alright.” Your voice breaks as you say it, but you’re eager.
He starts to slide his hands up and down your legs softly, pushing up your nightgown to your mid thighs. Wherever he touches he leaves behind a wake of goosebumps on your skin. It makes you shiver. He kisses up your neck softly. A low, almost silent moan falls off your lips.
Jon removes his lips from your neck and slides them up to your ear. “Does that feel good?”
You nod quickly, you’re too lost in the feeling of his hands and lips to be shy.
He removes his hand from your legs, and stops kissing your neck. You whine at the sensation loss. “Use your words.”
His words send a chill down your spine. You turn your head to look at him, mouth parted and face flushed. “Yes, it feels good” your voice is hesitant.
A smirk tugs at his lips. “Good.” His lips are back on your neck in an instant. He uses his legs to spread yours, his hands lightly touching your inner thigh. Your eyes flutter closed.
Jon ghosts his hand over your clothed core, eyeing your face and trying to gauge your reaction. Your eyes are twisted closed, you’re practically panting. “You’re doing so good for me”
Something about his praise drives you crazy. A whimper escapes your lips. You’re hot and needy, and he keeps lightly touching you. “Jon, please.” you wine out, trying to push your hips toward his hands.
It takes everything in him not to bend you over and fuck you on the chair. There you are… sitting in his lap, begging for his hands to touch you. He’s the only man to offer you this pleasure, the only man to hear your sweet little moans. The realization is driving him crazy. He places his hand firmly against your pussy, the corners of his mouth twitch at the way your body shivers. “Is it alright if I put my hand beneath your smallclothes?” his voice is husky in your ear.
The pressure from his still hand feels good, but it’s not enough. You’re hungry and searching for more, even though you don’t exactly know what it is. “Yes” you spit out between sharp breaths “Yes, please.”
Jon plants a kiss on the spot below your ear. He mentally notes the way you shudder as he hooks his fingers into the side of your undergarments, before pulling them down. He slides them all the way to your ankles, and tosses them somewhere in the room. “Look at me”
You turn your head towards him. The anticipation is thick in the air as you both stare at each other, the only sound being your heavy breaths. Jon's eyes are locked on yours, as he slides his hand back up your thigh, painfully slow.
“Jon” you whine out. “Please”
He smiles softly at you, his hand stopping right below your aching pussy. “Please what?”
You look away from him, your fingers are digging into his shoulder. “Touch me.”
He stares at you for a moment, loving the sounds of your breathless pleas for him to continue. He almost wants to tease you more, to make you describe exactly what you want him to do, but he knows that would be too mean. You’re being so good, he wants to give you everything.
Jon slides his hand all the way up, he slips a finger between your folds. He can’t stop the smirk on his lips when he feels how wet you are. Gods - you’re soaking.
A soft sigh falls off your tongue, your eyes travel down in between your spread legs, watching his finger.
“Do you see that?” Jon lifts his finger, soaked in your arousal, up to your face. “Do you see how wet I made you?”
Your mouth opens and closes, eyes locked onto his finger, cheeks flushed. You look at him and nod.
Jon kisses you again, soft and sweet, his lips move slowly against yours as he moves his hand back to your aching core, this time he slips two fingers between your folds, pushing gently against your clit.
You gasp against his lips, it feels so odd, and so good. You whine out his name.
Jon keeps the pressure, but moves in soft circles. “Hows that?” he says your name, and uses his free hand to softly grab your chin.
“S’ good” you moan out soft, your voice is a whisper. Your body is hot and achy. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life.
Jon changes direction, moving his fingers up and down. “Which one does my little wife like better?” His voice is almost teasing, but he's being sincere. He's studying your body.
Your back arches slightly, whimpers tumbling out. “Other one” you mumble out, barely coherent.
Jon switches back to rubbing his fingers in circles, this time applying more pressure. You’re so sensitive. He can feel the way your clit twitches under his fingers, he groans into your ear.
You start to shake under his touch, your legs twitch, and you feel restless.
“Jon” you don’t even know what you’re saying. Your hands dig into his bicep, hard.
Jon's eyes are locked onto you, scanning every part of your face. His gaze is hot and intense.
Jon's movements are precise and relentless. He’s searching for something.
You feel like you’re slipping out of reality, your breaths get ragged and your legs start to shake. “Jon” you swallow, huffing “Jon” his name falls off your lips like a prayer.
Jon hums into your ear, and plants soft open mouth kisses on your neck, his hand moving at a steady pace. “Tell me how it feels.”
Your eyes widen slightly as your body twitches. “It’s good” your face flushes.
“I’m going to need more than that, my queen”
You can feel him smirking into the crook of your neck. His deep voice makes his chest rumble, and you can feel it in your back.
You whine out, soft. “Feels good Jon” your body twitches, almost violently. “I don’t know” you gasp out breaths “Feels weird”. The words are falling out of your mouth.
“Good” Jon slides his free hand under your nightgown and up your stomach. He cups your breast, gently.
Your breath catches in your mouth. Your body squirms, hips rubbing softly against the hardness in his pants.
Jon groans at the friction, and you immediately still yourself.
He picks his head up from your neck to whisper in your ear. “It’s okay, it felt good.”
Your face warms, soft whines still falling from your lips. You start moving yourself against him again.
“Fuck” his breath is hot against your ear. He gently tugs at your nipple under your gown, and his hand starts rubbing faster. You swear you can see stars.
“Oh gods” your hips stutter, a string of moans falls from your lips as your head drops back onto his chest.
“Keep moving like that against me.” Jon's soft command has you nodding your head, you continue to pull and push your hips at a steady pace. Your movement has you grinding into his hand, still rubbing fast circles against you.
“Jon” you’re gasping for air at this point. You can’t seem to pull a coherent thought out of your head.
He moves his hand to your other breast, pinching and pulling your nipple softly. The sounds that fall from your lips are the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. He wasn’t fool enough to think he deserved peace. Not after everything. But when he looked at you… it felt like a glimpse of something holy. Like the gods were showing him what he’d never earn.
“Fuck!” you choke out, your hips start moving wildly, losing your rhythm. “Fuck Jon it feels weird.”
He doesn’t relent. His hand moved from your breast to your him, moving you back and forth. His other hand is still rubbing quick circles on your clit. “That wasn’t very lady like” his deep voice shakes in your ear, you can hear the smirk on his face. You’re too far gone to even comprehend what he’s saying.
A string of curses fall from your lips, there's a pressure building in your stomach. A string getting tighter and tighter until it-
“Jon!” you almost yell, body convulsing.
“There it is.” His hand continues to rub circles, riding you through your orgasm. He takes his hand off your hip allowing your body to still.
Whimpers come out of your mouth, until you slump against him.
“Are you alright?” His voice holds some concern as he removes his hand from under your nightgown. He eyes his fingers for a moment. They're soaked.
“Yeah, I um, yeah” you stutter out, eyes closed. You feel so limp.
Jon kisses down your neck softly, taking a deep breath in. He fights the urge to pop his fingers into his mouth, wanting to taste you. He knows he’ll get that soon enough. He rubs his hand on his trousers.
You shift on his lap, and eyes widen as your bottom hits something hard. You blink softly. “Is that um” you stutter out.
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiles into your neck.
You look at him and swallow. A wave of utter awkwardness and shame washes over you.
Jon says your name, catching your attention. He's looking at you now. It’s like he can read your mind. “You’re my wife.” his hands move to your shoulders. “That was normal, and it was good. You did so well.”
You nod your head softly. “Felt good” you mumble.
Jon smiles “Good. That’s all I want.” His eyes scan your face. “It's late, we should get some rest.” With that he stands up with you in his arms, and walks you over to the bed.
You bounce against the pillows softly, suddenly nervous about sleeping next to him. The man was whispering into your ear as he rubbed you, but the thought of sleeping next to him scared you. You almost laugh at yourself.
“I’ve got to change into my night clothes.” Jon is standing over you.
You scramble to turn over, facing the wall.
He chuckles lightly as he hooks his fingers into the waist of his pants. He clenches his jaw when it catches on his painfully hard erection.
You’re facing the wall, fingers playing with the hem of the furs on the bed. You feel a dip behind you, you turn over.
“Jon” you whisper at him, as he gets himself comfortable.
“Yes?” he looks over at you, eyes swimming with something you don’t quite recognize.
“Was I, okay?” you look away from him, worried. You feel a hand on your face.
“You were perfect.” he tilts his head to the side, looking at you. You nod.
“Goodnight.” Your eyes meet him again with a soft smile.
“Goodnight.”
