Daemon Targaryen x OC (Stark)
So, this is my way of coping until the new season of House of the Dragon is released.
Synopsis: After Daemon is wounded during a patrol with the City Watch, how will his Stark wife react?
This is a oneshot, and contains adult themes, so anyone under 18, please do not read.
You have been warned!
Also, POV is from the OC.
Enjoy!
I had been having tea with the Queen and a few of her ladies, when word came that my husband had returned from his patrol down in the city. That was not the concerning part though.
“I heard from one of the men of the City Watch that he was wounded my lady,” the servant girl stuttered. “Wounded seriously.”
I got up from my seat, hastily made my apologies to the Queen, then made my way out of her chambers and down the many corridors, passing by a lot of nobles and servants, ignoring their enquiries and whispers, hurrying to reach our rooms.
I could hear my husband’s screams and curses all the way down the corridor that led to our wing of the keep. That put me a bit at ease, so I slowed down my pace, coming to stand right outside the entrance to our bedchambers.
“He is in a bad state my lady,” ser Frederick Selwyn, his second in command, said to me when he saw me. “He is wounded, but he is in too much pain to let the maesters sew up his wound. They suggest we try to give him something to sleep so they can help him, but he won’t let us.”
“I see,” I nodded, going through the half-open door, pausing when I heard another string of curses coming out of his mouth as he tossed a vial of something the maester gave him. The thing crashed against the wall, coating it with whatever salve was inside it.
“I will not be drinking anything you grey sheep want to give me,” the Rogue Prince yelled, turning away from the poor maester. He was one of the newer ones, barely three months here in the capital. Two of his acolytes stood in the corner, their wide eyes watching Daemon’s every move.
“My prince, you have to listen to the maesters,” ser Marwyn Westerling, one of Daemon’s close friends, tried to reason with him, but the Rogue Prince wouldn’t listen.
“I don’t have to listen to any of them,” my husband raged. “I am fine, I just need to rest a bit.”
I could see at least one wound on his right side, though it was a small one, and another on his left shoulder, bigger and deeper, both bleeding. His tunic was soaked through with blood, and yet he still didn’t want the help of the maesters. I knew well that his stubbornness would be his undoing. He’d rather die than let someone help him.
“Everyone, please leave,” I called out in a clam voice.
The maester jumped at the sound of my voice. He must have been scared out of his mind, after coming face to face with an irritated and wounded Targaryen prince.
“My lady,” he approached me, his voice dropping to a whisper, “if we don’t treat your husband’s wounds, he will bleed out.”
“I will take care of my husband, you can go now,” I assured him, giving him my best serene smile.
The men hesitated for a moment, but one look at the wounded dragon warrior was more than enough to convince them to leave. They knew better than to force their luck with him.
Ser Marwyn hesitated at the door, but I just smiled politely at him, nodding that I would be fine.
When the door closed, leaving us alone in the room, I turned to face my husband. He had sat down on one of the chairs near the balcony, breathing heavily.
“Rough day?” I simply asked, making my way to a nearby table, pouring a glass of his favorite strongwine before I walked up to him.
“Nothing a dragon cannot handle, she-wolf,” he spat, taking the glass from me and downing it all in one go.
I smiled to myself, amazed at how he would continue this little game we had going on ever since we were forced into this marriage. He would call me she-wolf, and I’d call him rogue dragon. We both refused to use each other’s name, if only to irritate each other. It worked, on both sides.
“Well, it seems this time the rogue dragon has bitten a little more than he can handle,” I nodded at the wound on his shoulder.
“This?” he wiped at it with his hand, wincing a bit as he touched it. “This is a lover’s caress,” he smirked, his eyes glinting with sass.
“Well, your lover has some pretty sharp nails,” I smirked back at him, unfazed by his barb. “What did you do, did you tell her that you found someone else and won’t be fucking her anymore?”
He looked up at me, his eyes wide.
“That is no way a lady should be talking,” he warned me.
“But I’m not a lady,” I reminded him. “We have long since established that I’m merely a she-wolf,” I shrugged, taking his glass to refill it.
As he drank his second glass, I went to a basin of water and drenched a piece of cloth in it. I made my way to him, then started to clean his skin from all the blood.
“Fuckin’ piece of work, he caught me by surprise,” Daemon muttered, leaning back his head and closing his eyes.
“Ambush?” I questioned, taking extra care around the wounds. The one on his side had stopped bleeding, it wouldn’t need stitching, but the one on his shoulder, that was another story. Whoever had hit him, it had gotten him good.
“That cunt was hiding behind a corner, with an axe at hand. Went right through my armor, would have taken my head off if not for ser Strong.”
“Why would someone attack you for no reason?” I questioned, walking up to the basin to rinse off the cloth. The water turned pink, darkening every time I dipped the cloth back in.
“Not like I have a great army of friends in the city. I probably killed one of his gang buddies or something, sliced his brother’s hand for stealing, cut his best friend’s dick for sticking it where he shouldn’t have, the list could go on and on,” Daemon shrugged, wincing as his wound gushed some more blood.
“Yet people still call you the Prince of the City and cheer for you at every tourney,” I reminded him, trying to clean his other wound. “Surely you must have some who like you, especially around the Street of Silk,” I smirked at him.
He looked up at me, his face growing serious. I didn’t know why he looked at me like that. It was no secret he was a frequent patron of the many brothels residing in the Street of Silk, both before our marriage and after. I ignored him, more focused on the task at hand.
After I finished cleaning his wounds, I took thread and needle, refilled his glass, then set out to stitch him up.
“Better drink that, this will hurt a bit,” I warned him as I threaded the needle and approached him.
He focused those dark violet orbs on me, and I found myself having trouble breathing for a moment.
I always had that reaction when Daemon looked at me like that. From the moment I first laid eyes on him, that fateful day at the throne, just before my father and king Viserys had announced that we were to be wed, the Rogue Dragon had stared at me with such intensity, I might as well had burst into flames right there. The weirdest part was, I had liked it. I wanted his attention. And he seemed to appreciate my presence, licking his lips as he eyed me up and down. It should have felt wrong, but deep inside me, I was thrilled that I appealed to him.
Alas, that had lasted all but a few moments. After the betrothal was announced, a surprise for him if according to his shocked expression, Daemon turned colder than the Wall itself. During one of the walks we were forced to take in order to ‘get to know each other better’, he made it clear to me that he had no intention of marrying me, but he was merely doing it because his brother forced him too.
Any hopes I had of a happy marriage vanished in a moment. Rumors of his previous marriage had of course reached me, but my father had assured me that I would be different. I was nothing like lady Rhea. I was the daughter of the North, lady Lara of house Stark, daughter of the Warden of the North and one of the prettiest maidens in all the Seven Kingdoms, as some would say. Yet, none of that mattered to Daemon Targaryen. He never acted according to rules set by others. He always followed his own rules, the others be damned. After that walk, he didn’t spend one second around me, preferring to spend his nights with his friends and his whores in the various winesinks of the city.
The night of our wedding, he came to my room and made it clear that he had no intention of bedding me, nor would he ever touch me. This marriage was forced upon him, and he had no desire to consummate it. It was a knife in my heart, a complete destruction of any dream I had for my marriage. I was not silly. As a noble woman and daughter of a great house, I was expected to marry for political or diplomatic reasons. Yet, I hoped that, maybe whoever I had to marry would at least make the effort to get to know me, and then he’d try to make this marriage work.
No. Not the Rogue Prince. He continued with his nights in the brothels and the training of his men, as if our marriage had not happened. I had to endure the whispers and gossip of the ladies at court, maintain a calm demeanor, while the wolf inside me howled with fury. At some point, I had fallen in love with my heartless husband, and therefore was doomed to suffer a marriage to a man that would never want me.
Many had suggested that I follow lady Rhea’s example and go back to Winterfell, away from the whispers of the court and my husband’s cold behavior. It seemed enticing, I admit, but I rejected the idea. I was not some measly girl that would run back to her parents in tears. I was a wolf, and I would show everyone that I was not afraid in the face of hard times.
Life went on and now, almost a year after our marriage, Daemon and I had settled in a sort of routine. We both avoided each other during the day, but made sure to keep a united front against our common enemies during assemblies or feasts. He never slept in our shared chambers, but was at my side whenever anyone tried to get a rise out of our situation and make a fool out of me.
Chief amongst those who sought to humiliate this marriage was Lord Otto Hightower, the King’s Hand. Gosh, how I hated that man. It was the one thing Daemon and I shared. Our disgust at the upstart lord from the Reach who sought to rule the Seven Kingdoms while trying to move the King around like a puppet.
It was during a banquet that Daemon and I first realized that we had that in common. We were celebrating the birth of prince Aemond, the second son of the king and the slimy lord Hand had the audacity to come to our table, baby Aemond in his arms.
“Such a delight that the king has another son to continue his legacy, isn’t it?” he had asked in that annoying voice of his.
“It is indeed my lord Hand,” I had agreed, trying to keep appearances. Daemon, on the other hand, didn’t deem it worthy to answer him.
“Perhaps you should make some effort to give a son to your husband my lady, it has been quite some time since your marriage, hasn’t it? Or has prince Daemon been keeping too busy with the City Watch?”
His comment and that sneer on his smug face made my blood boil, but I took a deep breath to calm myself down. Beside me, Daemon seemed ready to jump at him, but I took his hand in mine under the table, squeezing it slightly. He turned to look at me, a small surprise dancing in those dark purple eyes of his.
“My husband is doing his duty to his king, keeping the city clean of the criminals,” I replied calmly. “Perhaps you should do your duty and find a way to keep our people fed and busy, then maybe the people will stop stealing and murdering, and his talents with a sword won’t be needed so much.”
“Surely he can stop his patrols for a while to tend to you, right?” lord Otto turned to Daemon, and I felt my husband twitching to snatch the little weasel and crush him under his boots.
“I understand my husband’s duty, and I am patient. When the time comes, the Gods will bless us with a child,” I replied, still holding onto Daemon’s hand. Its warmth gave me strength, somehow.
“I did ask your husband to take one of my sons as his lieutenant, but it seems the Rogue Dragon is too proud to accept my help,” lord Otto sneered.
“Which of your sons, the one that runs after boys or the one that I squashed during my last tourney?” Daemon smirked at his adversary.
Lord Otto looked furious, but didn’t say anything.
“The City Watch needs soldiers with extraordinary fighting skills and the guts to do what is needed,” I intervened, not wanting to cause a scene in the middle of the banquet. “Who better to fill that post than the finest warrior of the Seven Kingdoms? I am sad to say that, according to rumors, neither of your sons are known for their prowess my lord,” I smiled sweetly at him. “Wasn’t it ser Gwayne who lost in the training yard yesterday, after ser Harwin smashed him to the ground two minutes into the fight?” I turned to Daemon.
“Why yes it was,” he smiled at me, that teasing smile that could make a septa give in to him. “The poor thing was on his back bleeding, when ser Strong had barely touched him. I assure you my lord, if I took him with me to the patrols, he’d run back to you in tears an hour into the service. How did he earn his spurs, I’ll never understand.”
Daemon turned to smirk at his adversary, his eyes shining with glee. “Then again, you were never known for your skill in the battlefield, am I right? Perhaps your sons took after you.”
The weasel looked furious, but didn’t say anything. After he left, I let go of Daemon’s hand, conscious of how long I had held on to it.
That night, as I was making my way to our bedchambers, I found him waiting for me outside.
“Something wrong my prince?” I questioned, confused as to why he was here this late at night.
“Why did you defend me?” he asked, straight to the point. His face was devoid of any teasing of playful tone. It was the most serious I had seen him since our wedding day.
His question took me by surprise.
“Why not? You are my husband after all,” I shrugged, pushing the door open.
“That is no reason to defend me,” he insisted, following me inside.
“Then I don’t know what to tell you my prince,” I shrugged, sitting before my mirror to take down the elaborate braids my maid had woven my hair into for the night.
“What do you have against him? The Hand never moved against you or your house. Why would you side with me?”
I sighed, the tiredness of the evening making me antsy.
“Look,” I got up to face him. “You might ignore it, but the fact remains that we are married. And though that is no reason to defend you, I do recognize that you do fine work with your men all around the city. You do what you were born to do, wield a sword and swing it on those who deserve to die. The Hand is too proud to understand that, and he decided to make fun of us and our marriage right to my face, in order to get a rise out of you and humiliate me. That is low, even for him.” I turned away, reaching for my hair brush.
“You could have kept quiet,” Daemon suggested.
“We are married my prince,” I looked at him sternly. “That makes you part of my family. I don’t let weasels like him hurt my family.”
Daemon stood there for a while, penetrating me with his sharp gaze.
“Good night my lady,” he nodded lightly, then turned to leave without another word.
From that day on, he became just a tad kinder to me, and I even caught him staring at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Just as he was doing now.
I pushed my anxiety deep down, and focused on the task at hand. I cut the tunic off of him, leaving his muscular chest bare.
“Are you ready?” I asked him.
“Go on,” he merely replied, taking another sip of his wine.
I came to stand beside him, then started the slow and painful process. I tried to keep the stiches as small as possible, to keep the wound from scarring terribly. I could see several scars on his muscular back and chest, remnants from the battles he had participated in. He was a true warrior, more comfortable in a bloody battlefield fighting his enemies, than in a palace full of courtiers, playing the game of thrones.
In a way, I understood his discomfort. He was a wild creature, preferring to do what he wanted over what was forced upon him. I too longed to be free to do as I wished, but my sense of duty forbade me from acting on my desires.
Halfway through the stitching, Daemon had consumed his fourth glass of wine, and looked a bit drunk. His eyes shined, and his face had turned a slight pink. He kept his gaze on me as I worked on him, and I tried my best not to flinch. This was the first time I had been so close to him for so long, and the fact that he was half naked only added to my discomfort.
Though I had never known the touch of a man, I was no stranger to what went on between a man and a woman behind closed doors. Prior to my wedding, some of my lady friends, the more scandalous ones, had dragged me into a secret corridor that led to a sort of observation deck. Hidden behind a wooden panel, we watched as two servants used an old storage room to house their secret affair. I still remembered the things that man did to his lover. How he used his mouth, his hands, his whole body to give pleasure to the young woman. I wanted to feel that, what it was like to be in a man’s arms, to be wanted, to be pleasured.
It was no secret that Daemon knew his way around a woman’s body. His many adventures in the city’s brothels spoke volumes. Many a night I had wondered what it would feel like to be in his arms, and the frustration only made my heart and my body ache more for his touch. And now here I was, as close to him as I would ever be, touching his naked skin with my fingers. So close, and yet so far away.
I was so focused on keeping my mind from focusing on our proximity, that I didn’t even realize it when Daemon spoke to me.
“What?” I uttered, my cheeks flaming in embarrassment. My mind had been traveling in paths too improper for a noble lady to consider. And yet, being so close to my beautiful husband, I couldn’t help but wonder.
“I asked, why are you taking care of me?” he said, his voice so rough, it felt like a rumble of a distant thunderstorm.
“You are my husband Daemon, that is my duty,” I sighed, tying off the end of the thread, securing the stitches.
“My previous wife did not feel inclined to treat me when I got hurt,” he commented.
“Your previous wife was not me,” I retorted, feeling hurt. How could he really compare me to his first wife, when he had not even made the attempt to get to know me better?
I turned away, reaching for the salve on the table beside him. I had to lean over him to take the small jar, and felt his chest touching mine as he breathed.
I took a small amount of salve and rubbed it on the wound, trying to keep my touch as light as possible so as to not hurt him.
“Why do you do this?” he whispered, making me pause.
I chucked softly.
“Though I do like black, mourning does not suit me my dear husband,” I shook my head, trying to brush off his question.
“I’m serious,” he growled, his arm wrapping around my thighs, trapping me in place.
“So am I,” I threw back at him, reaching down to rub salve on the wound on his side. I massaged it softly, helping the salve be absorbed by his skin, while trying to keep my mind from enjoying the softness of it, the strength that I could feel underneath my fingertips.
He let me go as I put the jar away and took the roll of bandages to tie off his wound. He leaned forward, letting me wrap the soft cloth around him, making sure both wounds were properly protected before I secured the end of the cloth.
I took a clean cloth and started cleaning the dirt and blood that was spattered on his face. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the cool cloth on his brow before he turned to look at me once more.
“Why do you tolerate all this?” Daemon asked, wrapping his arm around me once more, making my heart beat wildly in my chest.
“As I told you before, you are my husband Daemon,” I sighed, looking at him. “Whether we like it or not, we are bound together. For better or for worse, we are destined to move forward in life, until one of us is claimed by the Gods. By the looks of it, you will not be claimed any time soon. Now, can you let me go, I need to find you a new tunic to wear, and I’ll have to give my dress to the washers and hope they can salvage it.”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he replied immediately, still keeping me pressed up against him.
“No need for that my rogue dragon, I can dye it if it doesn’t wash out. Perhaps a deep purple, like your eyes when you get angry,” I smiled, pushing a strand of hair that had fallen over his face while I treated him.
With a swift move of his other hand he pulled my face towards his, crushing his lips against mine. He took me completely by surprise, and my gasp gave him the opening he needed. His tongue slipped in my mouth, deepening the kiss and setting my insides on fire.
He pulled my legs from under me, making me land on his lap, never breaking our kiss. I yelped in surprise, but that only made him chuckle as he resumed his attack on my lips. I was completely stunned, too overwhelmed by the sensations to think rationally, so I just slipped my hand behind his neck, holding onto him as he ravaged my mouth.
We broke off for air, but I didn’t have the chance to say anything. He set me on my feet again, though I was glad he kept his hold on me. I wasn’t sure I could stand on my own, my legs felt too unsteady to support me.
Daemon slipped his hands low, never breaking eye contact with me, and pulled the hem of my dress up to my thighs, exposing my legs to the light breeze coming from the open windows. I stood still holding on to the back of his chair, breathing heavily as I felt his hand pull my leg over his lap, whispering words that sent a shiver all the way from my head to my toes.
“Ride me my wolf.”
I obeyed his command, lowering myself onto his lap. Even over my underclothes and his breeches, I could feel him, hot and hard, poking at me. I gasped sharply, clenching my legs around him.
“See what you do to me my she-wolf?” he whispered, caressing my legs lazily.
He nuzzled my neck, peppering it with hot kisses.
“Daemon,” I gasped, feeling so overwhelmed. I had no idea what was happening, but I was too weak to put an end to it.
“I like this, you moaning my name like that,” he purred, reminding me of the sounds Caraxes made when he was around his rider. He might be the most feared dragon amongst those in the Pit, but he was putty in his master’s hands.
Just like I was.
I barely realized it when I started rocking against him, trying to find some relief in the strange feeling I had between my legs. Was this what a woman felt when she was in the arms of her lover?
I paused, not sure what it was I felt at the moment.
Daemon pulled back to gaze at me when he felt me stop moving.
“What is it?” he whispered, his eyes watching me carefully.
“What are we doing Daemon?” I asked, my voice barely audible. I was afraid that, if I spoke any louder, the spell would be broken, and the moment would end. I didn’t want it to end.
“What does it feel like we’re doing?” he smirked, pushing his hips slightly at me, making his intentions obvious. “Don’t you want it?”
“I do, by the Gods I do,” I groaned as he resumed his attack on my neck, descending lower, nuzzling at my bosom while his fingers made quick work of the lacings on the front of my dress.
“Then stop thinking too much about it, and just let yourself go. Let the wolf go free,” he whispered, and the darkness in his eyes made something inside me snap.
I was the one that attacked him this time, searching for his lips as if I was roaming the desert and he held the last of the water in his mouth.
His fingers finally untied my lacings, and he pushed at my dress, letting fall to the ground. I was left in my thin shift and underclothes.
He went for my braid then, releasing my long hair from the ties I had secured them with. He pulled at my hair, not enough to hurt me, but enough to expose my neck to him. He nipped at my skin, marking it with his teeth before easing the bite with his tongue.
“Daemon,” I gasped, pulling at his hair myself.
He hissed, but the lust in his eyes told me all I needed to know. He got up from his chair, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me towards the huge bed not far from where we were.
He placed me softly on the soft sheets, hovering over me.
I pulled him for another earth-shattering kiss, and felt him slip his hand under my shift. He reached for my undergarments, pulling at it sharply, ripping it to shreds.
He attacked my neck again, almost rutting against me, and I thought I was going to explode from lust.
“Gods,” I moaned, pulling at him, trying to get some relief on the ache I felt between my legs.
Daemon chuckled.
“I know some of the smallfolk think we descend from the ancient Gods of Valyria, but I never thought a northerner would believe the same thing.”
“You cocky bast-” I started to protest, only to be silenced by the feel of his fingers enter me.
“Ah, so that’s how I can get you to stop talking,” my husband chuckled huskily, giving me another of those fiery kisses.
I couldn’t reply, let alone form any coherent thought. Whatever he was doing to me with those fingers, it lit a fire in my whole body, a fire I never wanted to get out of.
A pressure started building low in my belly and I started panting, as if I was trying to run a long distance.
“Come my little wolf, howl for me,” Daemon whispered to my ear, and it was all I needed. The knot that had been writhing in my belly suddenly burst, and I saw white stars explode behind my eyelids. An amazing sensation engulfed me, and I felt as if I was flying.
Daemon continued to caress me, prolonging this feeling, until I could take it no more. Then, he withdrew his fingers from my core, raising his torso a bit to take a look at me.
I couldn’t imagine what I looked like from his perspective. Panting, with my hair wild, my skin flushed, and my legs spread before him as if I… as if he and I had just…
I dared to open my eyes to look at him, and was rewarded with a hungry look that rekindled the fire in my belly. He looked at me as if I was his next meal.
As if he could read my thoughts, Daemon licked his lips, giving me another of his signature smirks before he reached for my shift. He pulled it over my head, leaving me completely bare before him. I had the greatest urge to try and cover myself, but I knew that would not please him.
“My little wolf,” he crooned, leaning down to kiss me, softer this time. “That was no true howl. Even after what we did, you still hold back. It seems I have to use other methods to let the wild beast free.”
I didn’t have the time to ask him what he meant before he burned a trail of kisses from my lips, to my neck, to the sensitive skin between my breasts, down to my belly and, before I could stop him, right between my legs.
“Daemon, what are you doing?” I dared to ask him, still dizzy from our previous tryst.
“Feasting on my darling she-wolf wife,” he winked at me cheekily, before descending upon my mound.
I moaned loudly as I felt him lap at my cunt, licking like a cat devouring a bowl of cream. I couldn’t control the sounds that left my mouth, nor my hips from moving as close to that torturous mouth as I could get them.
His mouth closed around something down there that made me scream, asking him, begging him not to stop. His fingers entered me once more, and the feeling was even better than before. I bunched up the sheets with my hands, trying to find a way to anchor myself to reality. There was no way this was happening to me. Another jolt of pleasure shook me whole, and the divine feeling shattered my body once more, sending me crashing towards oblivion.
I barely realized that the moans echoing around the room came from my mouth. What was happening to me? This was nothing like what those servants had done in the storage closet. The man hadn’t treated his lover like this, nor had she moaned the way I was right now. Was this a different way for a man and a woman to be united?
I didn’t realize I had closed my eyes until I heard Daemon’s voice, calling to me as if he stood far away.
“Lara,” he whispered, now leaning over me once again. His voice sounded like velvet, and my name coming from his lips like that was the sweetest thing I had ever heard.
I couldn’t reply to him, only gaze at his perfect face, all sweaty and… Was all that wetness around his mouth from me, from my…
“Want to taste your desire my wolf?” he asked, and the flames rekindled in me once more.
I knew I should be disgusted. What decent noble lady would dare to do such a vulgar thing? Those were things that only whores would do, and only because they got paid for it.
But I wanted it. I wanted to taste my desire, mixed with his taste. And I wanted it now.
I reached for him, uniting our lips in a sloppy, wet and absolutely amazing kiss that had me reeling. I moaned at the sweet and at the same time salty taste that exploded in my mouth, and licked at his tongue, wanting more.
He groaned deeply, and I felt something poke at my cunt, something long, hand and hot. I had been so lost, I didn’t even realize when he had taken off his breeches and now was as naked as I was, hovering over me. Daemon rubbed his cock at my folds a few times, then pushed in me, slowly, giving my time to adjust to him.
This new feeling had me gasping. It felt uncomfortable at first, but I was so wet, he slid in easily. I felt him fill me, bit by bit, until he paused.
I pulled back to complain but, before I could, he shushed me with his finger.
“This will hurt a bit at first, but I promise you, it is worth it. Are you ready?”
I didn’t dare speak, only nodded, trusting those dark eyes with my body, my soul and my heart.
With a snap of his hips, Daemon broke through my maidenhead, and I felt as if someone was slicing me in half. I yelped in pain, tears falling from the corners of my eyes. Daemon kissed them away, whispering to me that the hardest part was over. He stilled his motions, giving me little kisses to distract me from my pain.
And indeed, after a while, the pain faded away, leaving only pleasure, and a need for more.
I tried to move my hips, to get more of this feeling, and Daemon groaned over me. He started pushing further in, filling me to the brim with his cock. He pulled back, almost completely, only to slam back in me with a powerful move.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I begged him, moving with him, trying to get more, more, more.
His hands grabbed hold of my thighs, pulling me towards him, driving into me faster, harder.
I pulled him down for another kiss, this one the hottest of them all. He was on fire, as was I. I didn’t care. I wanted him to burn me, own me, destroy me in every way. I was his, and he was mine. Nothing else mattered.
Daemon quickened his pace, his pants echoing along with my moans all over the room. This time, the knot in my belly was tighter than I had felt the previous times, and I wanted to scream, to let the whole castle, maybe even the whole city know what Daemon was doing to me. I wanted everyone to know that I was his, and he was mine.
His pace became frantic, and I felt as if I was going to explode from pleasure.
“Let go my love,” he gasped, pinning me with his violet gaze. “Let yourself go wild, let go.”
The sound of his voice, those words, the way he looked at me, it was all too much. One last snap of his hips and I was gone, screaming his name for all to hear. He growled, a loud and primal sound that only added to the passion between us. I felt him release his seed deep inside me, and I thought to myself that didn’t want this moment to end, ever.
--
I must have passed out from exhaustion, because the next thing I knew, I woke up with Daemon’s arms wrapped around me, my head resting on his muscular chest. I lay there for a moment, listening to his strong heartbeat, trying to accept what had happened between us. I was no longer a lone wolf. I had given myself, body and soul, to my dragon. That thought both excited and terrified me.
What if, now that he had performed his duty and made me his wife in every way, possibly planting his seed in me, he decided to go back to his old ways, and spend his nights away from me, in the company of his whores?
The thought was like a knife in my heart. It would devastate me if, after a taste of his fire, he turned cold once more. I didn’t know if I could handle it.
I slipped out of his arms, wrapping myself with a sheet and made my way to the balcony. Night had fallen, and it looked to be about midnight, the moon already high in the sky. I stood at the very end of the stone balcony, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the night. It felt soothing, calming my nerves a bit.
I tried to think of the worst that could happen. If Daemon decided to go back to his whores and ignore me, I would have to continue pretending as nothing was amiss, keeping myself deaf to the whispers of the other courtiers. No doubt our night together was already known to the entire castle. There was no way the servants or the guards had not heard us. They would speak to each other about it behind my back, giggling and commenting how the wolf had not managed to tame the dragon after all, and mock me every time Daemon spent his nights in the Street of Silk.
My only comfort, the only reason to keep myself together, was if I had managed to get pregnant from tonight. If I had, Daemon would have his heir, and I would have someone to give my love to. I didn’t care if I gave birth to a boy or a girl. All I wanted was a child, something to remind me of the one and only night my husband had touched me, had been with me as a man should be with his wife.
My mind was so preoccupied with all those dark thoughts, I didn’t hear the silent footsteps behind me. Two strong arms were wrapped around me, warming me from the night’s chill.
“Why did you leave our bed love?” Daemon whispered, kissing me lightly on my shoulder.
My heart fluttered at the little nickname he used. Could he really mean it?
“I wanted to see the moon,” I lied, lifting my gaze to the almost round glowing orb.
“Ah, my little she-wolf, she wants to howl at the moon, does she?”
I giggled, turning to look at my husband. He looked so beautiful in the moonlight, his silver hair shining, the same color as the moon. He too had wrapped a sheet around his waist, leaving his chest bare. I was mesmerized by how soft and pale his skin looked under the moonlight.
“Wolves don’t howl at the moon,” I shook my head, twirling a strand of his hair with my fingers. “They howl to call out to their mate, communicate with them, let them know where they are.”
“That sounds romantic,” Daemon smiled at me.
“Yes, it is. Wolves only mate once in their lifetime, they never let anyone else near them if something happens to their mate.”
“So do dragons,” Daemon replied, caressing my face ever so gently.
Something in his eyes told me he wasn’t talking only about the dragons currently residing in the pit.
I stayed silent, wrapped in his arms. I had so many things to ask him, but I had no courage to do so. His answers could either make me the happiest woman in the world, or break my heart beyond repair.
“What are you thinking my wolf? I can almost hear your mind humming with how much you are thinking right now.”
“I… just try to think of what tomorrow might bring for me, for us,” I muttered, knowing that it was now or never. Might as well get it over with.
Daemon pulled back, his face scrunched in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you Daemon,” I sighed. “All this time we’ve been married, I’ve come to know a lot about you, even with the limited amount of time we’ve spent together. Ever since we got married, you made it very clear that you had absolutely no interest in me. But now, after tonight, things have changed between us. I… I have to ask. What do you intend to do from now on?”
Daemon lifted my chin, looking at me with those dark eyes I had come to love.
“What are you afraid of? What do you fear I’m going to do?”
I looked away, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.
“I fear that you will go back to what you used to do every night,” I said quietly, walking to the other end of the balcony. “Go out with your men, spend your time with other women, ignoring me, shunning our bed in favor of some lady of the night.”
My dragon approached me once more, pulling me into his embrace.
“My sweet, my lovely wife,” he sighed, leaning his head against mine, his forehead rubbing on the top of my head.
“Do you know how long I wanted to claim you, to hold you in my arms as we lay in our bed?”
I looked up at him, confused.
“Then why didn’t you, why did you treat me so coldly?” I demanded, hurt.
“Our marriage was arranged, just like my previous marriage. I was afraid, I thought you only agreed to this marriage to get into the royal family, to gain more power for your family, through me,” he sighed, his face turning sad. “I couldn’t let my heart be exposed, let my feelings out and get them crushed under your rejection. You were so cold, so formal with me, I had to keep my distance, to protect my heart.”
I could not believe what I was hearing. This great man, this famous warrior, the man who rode a fierce dragon with no fear, looked at me as if I might break him with a wrong move I made.
“I have not touched another woman, not for a while now, since that night that cunt Hightower tried to ridicule us both. I go out every night, looking for criminals to punish, using them to spend my frustration and fear, but I have not laid with another woman. None have touched me, nor have I touched them, this I swear to you.”
The sound of his words filled me with such happiness, I half-expected to burst from joy. I leaned and rubbed my forehead against his, smiling at how sweet he sounded.
“Your heart has nothing to fear from me my dragon, for you have my own heart in your hands. My heart, my body, my soul, my very being, it’s all yours, from this day, until the end of our days.”
My husband smiled, kissing me sweetly and deeply. I had no words to describe how I felt. I was no longer just me. We were one, connected in every way, body and soul.
“As I am yours my little wolf, in every way, until the end of our days, and beyond that,” he whispered, giving me little kisses around my mouth. "Come now, it’s getting cold out here, we’d better return to our bed.”
That night, we made sweet love to each other, not stopping until the sun’s rays broke over the nearby hills.
The next few days, several noble ladies I came across seemed to notice the bite marks my husband had left on my neck, but didn’t dare to ask me about them. They also didn’t dare to comment on the fact that, after his patrols around the city, Daemon returned to the castle every night, and the corridor outside our rooms echoed with our moans.
Nine moons after our first night together, I gave birth to a silver-haired boy. We named him Aemon.
