[ To watch her smile again, to be able to see the warmth of her, to know that she has returned to him after death - it inspires a sweetness in Daemon that might once be foreign to him. She is someone that he cannot help to adore, cannot help but wish to love and cherish, and yes, to fuck, to press her to the bed and claim her, but there is more, too. She is his wife, lawful and wedded and taken, in the tradition he had wanted for so long.
Does she know, that he would've traded his crown for her, once? That he had begged it of her father, knife to his throat and head throbbing from his cups, wanting nothing more than her hand and her mouth and all that she had to offer? Would she care, if she did?
He had bent the knee to her. She must know where his loyalties lie, now.
Moving with her, allowing her the power to shift his body, to command him, Daemon feels a sharp little thrill inside of him. He is accustomed to being in control, he is accustomed to being the master in the bedroom, the bringer of pleasure, but there's no denying the fact that he enjoys the way she clings to her power here, too. She is his queen, and he had given her his loyalty, so to have her wish for this as well, to chain him to her beside and take from him what she wishes...
There would be pleasure to be found there, too, even if his instinct is to rebel against the notion of being so trapped.
His fingers flex as he watches her, eyes dark, waiting to see what she might do, what she might offer him. ]
Would another death not be regret enough? [ Daemon's lips curl a little, dangerous. ] Iksan aōhon, prūmia.
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Does she know, that he would've traded his crown for her, once? That he had begged it of her father, knife to his throat and head throbbing from his cups, wanting nothing more than her hand and her mouth and all that she had to offer? Would she care, if she did?
He had bent the knee to her. She must know where his loyalties lie, now.
Moving with her, allowing her the power to shift his body, to command him, Daemon feels a sharp little thrill inside of him. He is accustomed to being in control, he is accustomed to being the master in the bedroom, the bringer of pleasure, but there's no denying the fact that he enjoys the way she clings to her power here, too. She is his queen, and he had given her his loyalty, so to have her wish for this as well, to chain him to her beside and take from him what she wishes...
There would be pleasure to be found there, too, even if his instinct is to rebel against the notion of being so trapped.
His fingers flex as he watches her, eyes dark, waiting to see what she might do, what she might offer him. ]
Would another death not be regret enough? [ Daemon's lips curl a little, dangerous. ] Iksan aōhon, prūmia.