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[perzo]

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RHAENYRA

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[bloodstone]

[ Daemon does enjoy this, does enjoy the fact that his wife is taking what she wants. When he had done it when they were younger, when he had pushed her into a wall and kissed her, hard and harsh, he had wanted to see her submission, wanted to see her give into him. When she had returned his intensity it had shaken him, then, but now? Now he feels nothing short of adoration, nothing short of something wonderful, and he wants to devour her.

He wants this. He wants her mark, as he wears her ring, as he wears her banner, his devotion for her clear and obvious. He wants to be claimed by her in the way dragons do, in the way that Caraxes and Syrax dance around each other and roar to the skies. He is her husband, her consort, her king, and it burns inside him like dragonfire.

Breathing in, sharp and harsh, he watches as she moves and makes herself comfortable. He is still bound, still entirely at her mercy, but there's no hiding the delight in his eyes as she settles herself over him, thighs either side of his face and the promise of her pleasure there for the taking. ]

ñuha jorrāelagon.

[ Rhaenyra settles down over him, and his hands tug at his bindings in the desire to grasp her, to squeeze at her and take. Instead, he uses his mouth, tilting his head up to immediately slide his tongue along her cunt. He is chasing the taste of himself mingled with her own desire, and he groans softly, pushing himself as close as he can get to her to start to devour her properly. ]

[perzo]

[ The fact that Daemon had been willing to submit himself into her hands, to give over control of this coupling to her, only arouses Rhaenyra further, but there is something about the idea of using him as her throne in the most illicit, depraved sense that makes her unmistakably wet, all but dripping as she finally settles herself over his face and he lifts his chin to meet her with the initial slide of his tongue over her cunt.

She's sensitive, already, from riding him, but in a way that renders every further lick and stroke that much more enjoyable. Still, something's missing even in this, and Rhaenyra quickly realizes what it is; Daemon's wrists are still tied to the headboard, when she wants his hands on her waist, her hips, her thighs, steadying her, creating one more point of direct contact between them.

She reaches up with a sudden franticness, digging her fingernails into the admittedly loose knot she'd created so she can tug the belt loose, away from his skin with an audible whisper of the leather, punctuated by the thud of the buckle when it slips from her grasp over the edge of the mattress to hit the floor. ]

Daemon. [ She needs him, desperately, fingers of one hand sliding through his hair, cradling the back of his head — tender as a mother's embrace, but with the urgency of a lover. When she rounds her hips down over his mouth again, it's more gently than when she'd sheathed his cock in her heat, since she isn't aiming to smother him, but she's still more heedless in how she seeks out his tongue, her other hand curving over the top of the headboard for further purchase. ]

[bloodstone]

[ There are few people alive that Daemon would willingly bend to, that he would offer himself to without pause, and there is a strange twist of fate in the imagining that it is father and daughter both. Blood calls to blood, and the two of them have the blood of the dragon burning inside of them - it's what calls to him, makes him yearn for her all the more. Her beauty, her strength, her wisdom and her mind, but her blood, too, her connection to the dragons that pulse inside them.

He enjoys this, he thinks; giving her what she wants, seeking her pleasure, curling his tongue in her cunt and making a pleased noised as she rocks over him. Daemon does not see this as true submission, perhaps, as others do - in this he is giving his wife pleasure, giving her what she desires, all that she wants, and there is no hesitation in him. There is nothing that would stop him from bringing her the release she deserves.

This is his wife. He will do well by her, as he always shall.

Without hesitation, he closes his eyes and continues to worship her, to do everything that he can to please her, groaning against her cunt with content abandon. ]

[perzo]

[ Would Rhaenyra have ever been this bold, even on the night she'd finally confronted him about her feelings — offered up the truth between them, knowing she was finally giving voice to what had always simmered beneath the surface of their conversations? As they'd undressed one another with sure hands, made love beneath the shelter of that abandoned boat, she'd cleaved to Daemon as a wife would — on her back, spread to accept the weight of him between her thighs, the press of his cock inside her — even before they'd uttered the vows that would bind them to each other in blood.

Now, she's confident enough to seize her own pleasure and to let him play a part in delivering it to her, aware of what she wants him to do in their bed — put his face between her legs, devour her cunt as he plunges his fingers deep, readying her for thicker. They're not wholly selfish lovers with each other, not anymore; she derives just as much enjoyment from making him shudder and spill as she does when he makes her crest from his tongue, his cock.

The rumble of his groan against her tender flesh prompts another shiver, another quaking, and then a moan, as he licks at her, tasting his own seed and the tartness of her arousal merged together, and the grip she's established on the headboard enables her to rub herself over his mouth with clear intention, chasing release rather than prolonging it that much more.

It doesn't require much more effort from him when she's been close to her finish since riding him; her body tightens, movements dissolving into shuddering hips and a sharp indraw of breath, and then she stills over him, swaying through the immediate sensations.

When she finally regains feeling in her lower half, she moves, gingerly easing off of him and then curling up along his side, one arm draped across his middle as she nuzzles into his shoulder, making no effort to redress or cover herself right away. She'd much rather bask in this with him, the warmth that lingers behind, as she slowly lifts her chin to initiate a kiss she can taste both of them in. ]