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[perzo]

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RHAENYRA

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[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. ]