[ In the years that they had been apart from one another, whether divided by time, war, marriage, or some combination of the three, Rhaenyra's thoughts had occasionally wandered to the notion of how Daemon preferred to bed and who he preferred to indulge in it with. As a prince, a second son, and a man certainly not bound to the loyalties of marriage, she'd been quite aware of the women he'd strayed to before his first wife had died. The specifics of his proclivities had been unknown to her, but she hadn't been so naive or sequestered a princess that rumor of Daemon's rakish reputation hadn't made it back to her ears in the Red Keep.
Those nights that she'd considered what it would be like if she were the one to be his wife, she'd also lingered on thoughts of how it would be in bed between them — if he would seek to control her, dominate her in every sense, ask her to bend to his whims, or if he would allow her to seize authority every now and then. While the years of their marriage had not been so clearly defined as to force them into specific roles, she'd never once dared to suggest an act of this nature, but judging by the telling gleam in his gaze, perhaps she should have been this impulsive long before now. ]
Iksā ñuhon. Ñuha zaldrīzes.
[ Ties on her bodice unfastened, her fingers slowly part the loosened fabric, revealing the swells of her breasts to him, the points of her nipples already tight and aching for his mouth. Would that she were carrying another of his children now, she thinks; she could feed him in the same manner, guide him into taking sustenance from her body, drawing another part of her into himself. She will give him another heir, perhaps even while they are here, but for now, she is determined to bask in this night above all others. ]
Se kesan kipagon ao hae mēre. [ No wonder, then, that her fingers descend to make quick work of opening his trousers, freeing his cock while his own hands are captured. Her gaze lingers on his, breath gradually quickening, as she rewards him with a series of slow, purposeful strokes. ]
cw: breastfeeding kink tbh
Those nights that she'd considered what it would be like if she were the one to be his wife, she'd also lingered on thoughts of how it would be in bed between them — if he would seek to control her, dominate her in every sense, ask her to bend to his whims, or if he would allow her to seize authority every now and then. While the years of their marriage had not been so clearly defined as to force them into specific roles, she'd never once dared to suggest an act of this nature, but judging by the telling gleam in his gaze, perhaps she should have been this impulsive long before now. ]
Iksā ñuhon. Ñuha zaldrīzes.
[ Ties on her bodice unfastened, her fingers slowly part the loosened fabric, revealing the swells of her breasts to him, the points of her nipples already tight and aching for his mouth. Would that she were carrying another of his children now, she thinks; she could feed him in the same manner, guide him into taking sustenance from her body, drawing another part of her into himself. She will give him another heir, perhaps even while they are here, but for now, she is determined to bask in this night above all others. ]
Se kesan kipagon ao hae mēre. [ No wonder, then, that her fingers descend to make quick work of opening his trousers, freeing his cock while his own hands are captured. Her gaze lingers on his, breath gradually quickening, as she rewards him with a series of slow, purposeful strokes. ]