Marriage to Lyonel had not dulled the fire between you. If anything, it had made it worse.

The first few moons had been a revelation. Your husband took a great deal of pride in making certain you knew exactly how desired you were, as did the whole castle judging by the sounds radiating from your chambers.

There was, however, one problem. Lyonel always began it.

You had let him lead at first. Partly because you had been uncertain, partly because you had been overwhelmed by the sheer force of his attention. He had never rushed you, never demanded more than you gave willingly.

But as the weeks passed, you began to notice a pattern. He reached for you, he pulled you close, he decided and you followed.

That would simply not do.

Whilst you did not know much that happened between a man and wife before you were married (luckily Lyonel had helped filled in the blanks) you knew certain things where just a matter of position and patience.

——————————————-

Lyonel was exactly where you expected to find him. In the solar, boots propped up on the table, retelling some tourney story to a pair of unfortunate knights who were clearly too polite to question the more dramatic details.

“…and the lad came straight at me,” he was saying, gesturing broadly with his goblet “arms like barrels—”

“And let me guess, you fought him with only your bare hands?” you interrupted from the doorway hearing this story before.

Both knights froze. Lyonel turned slowly toward you, that grin appeared immediately “Ah!” he said warmly “My lovely wife arrives just in time to admire my heroics” holding his arms out to you

You leaned against the doorframe, arms folded “Heroics?” you repeated dryly

The knights glanced between you nervously.

“Yes” Lyonel replied easily, smile on his features, as his gazed roamed over you always pleased when you wore his colours “Heroics”

“You mean exaggerations” you counter

The knights suddenly found their cups fascinating. Lyonel leaned back in his chair, watching you with open amusement “You doubt me dear wife?”

“I always doubt you, dear husband” you smile

His grin widened hand coming dramatically to his chest “You wound me!”

“You survived a charging mountain of a man apparently” you replied smoothly “I imagine you will endure”

The knights muttered something about needing more ale and escaped the room with impressive speed. The moment the door shut behind them, Lyonel laughed.

“You chase away my audience” he said, rising to his feet “Very rude of you”

You stepped further into the room “Your audience deserved better storytelling”

“Oh?” He smiled, coming closer, that familiar spark lighting his eyes.

“Yes” you reply, meeting his steps.

“And what would you know of fighting?” He asks eyes dark,

“Enough” you said lightly “to know when a man is bluffing”

He stopped directly in front of you “You accuse your husband of bluffing”

“I accuse my husband of being all talk” you say placing your hands on his chest.

His brows lifted “All talk?”

“Yes” You leaned closer “Storm’s End feared the great Lyonel Baratheon once” you say sultry pushing him back a step “Now I begin to wonder if it was all noise.”

For a moment he simply stared at you. Then he laughed “You are trying to start a fight.”

“Am I?” You grin seductively

“Yes” his replies eyes

“And if I am?” You whisper

He stepped forward again “You should be careful what you start ”

Your heart was racing now, but you refused to retreat. Instead, you pushed him again, this time harder.

He let you, another step backward. Then another. Until the back of his knees struck the chair behind him and he dropped into it with a surprised huff of laughter “You are bold tonight, wife”

“Am I?” Your voice lower. And before he could react, you climbed onto his lap.

Lyonel went still. That did not happen often He was watching you now with sudden, keen interest. “Well ” he murmured slowly “This is new ”

Your fingers curled in the front of his tunic. “You are not the only one allowed to start things husband”

His grin returned instantly. Gods, he looked delighted “That so?” He asked too eager for your liking.

You nodded once, deliberately shifting your weight on his lap. His breath hitched before he could stop it.

His hands lifted instinctively toward your waist. You caught his wrists immediately. “Ah” you said softly, shaking your head, pushing them back down to the arms of the chair “No”

His brows rose “No?”

“Tonight” you said, your voice lower now, “you are not allowed to touch”

For a moment he simply stared at you. Then he laughed. Deep and rough and far too pleased with the situation “Have you taken leave of your senses?”

“No” you whisper against his lips.

He leaned back further, spreading his hands deliberately along the carved arms of the chair in exaggerated surrender “As my lady commands” that sending a shiver through you.

His eyes, however, never left you. Not for a second. You could feel the heat of his gaze as clearly as if it were hands. “You realize” he said slowly, voice dropping into something rougher “that you are playing a dangerous game”

You leaned closer, your mouth brushing near his ear “I thought you enjoyed a challenge”

“Oh I do” Lyonel replied immediately, hands flexing on the arms of the chair “But usually I’m the one setting the terms.”

You shifted again, deliberately slow, letting the movement grind against his rapidly hardening member, before drawing back just enough to keep him frustrated. His jaw tight.

“You told me not to start fights I couldn’t finish” you reminded him sweetly You leaned down until your lips hovered just above his “I intend to win this one”

For the first time since you had climbed onto his lap, Lyonel Baratheon looked truly undone. His chest rose slowly beneath you as he forced himself to remain perfectly still.

His voice came out lower than before “You have no idea what you’re doing to me”

Your smile deepened. “Then it seems I am learning quickly.”

His gaze burned into yours “And how long exactly” he asked quietly, “do you intend to keep me like this?”

You tilted your head slightly “Until I decide otherwise”

Lyonel exhaled a slow breath through his teeth “Gods help me”

You didn't give him time to say anything further, leaning in, you captured his mouth with yours, kissing him deeply, your tongue sliding past his lips to tangle with his. He groaned into the kiss “Seven hells, you are magnificent when you’re determined” cutting off with moan as you grind your core against him.

The friction sends sparks through your core, your pussy growing wetter with each slow roll of your hips. Lyonel groans into the kiss, his body tensing under you, but his hands stay gripped on the chair arms, knuckles white from the effort of restraint

You deepen the kiss, sucking on his lower lip before biting it lightly, drawing another muffled sound from him. Your movements stay deliberate, teasing, circling your hips to rub your clothed slit along his cock, feeling it twitch and throb in response.

You savor the control, the way his breath quickens against your mouth, you pull back kissing down his neck. As he lets out a moan mixed with a frustrated growl “Gods… you have been planning this” he say tipping his head back against the chair as you nip as his skin.

“Planning what?” You murmur, licking up his neck, pulling back enough to see the hunger in his eyes

“This little rebellion” he says, breathless and absolutely wrecked.

“You make it sound treasonous my love” you reply lips twitching as you grind slowly.

His chest heaves, voice rough as gravel “Oh it certainly fucking is” his eyes fluttering as you grind harder, But he doesn't move, doesn't dare break your rules.

Emboldened, you reach down between your bodies, fingers working quickly to unlace his breeches. His cock springs free, thick and hot, the tip already slick with pre-cum. You wrap your hand around it briefly, stroking once from base to head, making him hiss through clenched teeth “You're killing me wife”

Without a word, you shift your skirts aside, positioning yourself over him. The head of his cock nudges against your entrance, and you sink down slowly, inch by inch, until he's fully sheathed inside your tight pussy.

The stretch is exquisite, filling you completely, and you both moan at the sensation. You pause there, clenching around him deliberately, watching his face contort with the need to thrust up into you

“If you do not let me touch you soon, I may actually die” he groans forehead meeting yours as you sit unmoving on him.

You laugh breathlessly “That seems dramatic”

“I am a very dramatic man” he groans lips finding yours in a desperate bid for you to move.

You kiss him back deeply, placing your hands on his shoulders for leverage and ensuring his arms remain pinned. “I noticed’ you say say against his lips, swallowing his moan as you start moving.

You start slow at first, the move unfamiliar but quickly grow more confident, lifting your hips and slamming back down, setting a rhythm that's all yours.

Your pussy slides up and down his length, gripping him tightly with every descent. The wet sounds of your bodies joining fill the room, mingling with his ragged breaths and your soft gasps.

You grind down harder on each downstroke, circling your hips to hit that spot inside you that makes your thighs quiver. Lyonel's head falls back against the chair, eyes squeezed shut as he fights to stay still, his cock pulsing deep within you “seven fucking hells” he growls, voice breaking “So tight, perfect wife, don't stop” he stammers out

Sweat beads on his brow, his muscles straining to not take over as you bounce faster, your breasts heaving with the motion.

The pressure builds in your core, coiling tighter with every thrust of his cock into your soaking pussy. You lean forward again, capturing his mouth in another fierce kiss, tongues tangling as you ride him relentlessly. His hips buck involuntarily once, but he catches himself, cursing under his breath.

The orgasm hits you first, waves of heat crashing through you as your pussy clamps down on him, milking his cock. You cry out “Oh gods, Lyonel” against his lips, grinding through the spasms, your juices coating him.

Lyonel follows seconds later, unable to hold back any longer. His cock throbs hard inside you, spurting thick ropes of cum deep into your pussy, filling you until it leaks out around him. He groans your name, body shuddering beneath you, but his hands never leave the chair.

You slow your movements, riding out the aftershocks until you're both spent, his softening cock still buried inside you. Lyonel's eyes open, dark and sated, watching you with a mix of awe and lingering fire.

“You win this round” he rasps, a crooked smile tugging at his lip “You realize you’ve ruined me now”

You look up from where you are nuzzled into the warmth of his neck “How?”

“Well” he started with a smirk “Now I’ll be wondering every night if my wife plans to start another fight”

The first moons of your marriage had been undeniably happy.

Summerhall had softened around you. The halls once quiet now held laughter again, Rhae’s voice echoing through corridors, Daella’s thoughtful questions lingering long after lessons ended. Even Daeron had begun appearing at supper more regularly, though he pretended it had nothing to do with you.

And Maekar had proven a husband very different from the stern prince the realm believed him to be. You had learned quickly that the man possessed a great deal of restraint.

Before your wedding you had known very little of the relations between husband and wife. It had never seemed necessary knowledge. As the eldest daughter of your house you had been far more concerned with accounts, estates, and the upbringing of your sister than with whispers of marriage beds. Especially once you had been shelved as a spinster.

Your septa had certainly never offered instruction “A lady need not concern herself with such matters. Your husband will know what to do” At the time you had accepted this explanation with practical indifference, believing it would never matter to you.

How wrong you were.

Maekar, for his part, had proven both patient and attentive. The first weeks of marriage had been something of an education, though not an unpleasant one. Your husband approached intimacy with the same careful control he brought to every other aspect of his life.

He was deliberate, attentive, capable of undoing your composure entirely until the entire castle could hear you moaning his name through the walls,

Still, a pattern had formed. Maekar always came to you. At first you had assumed it was simply his nature, prince accustomed to command, A man who had carried responsibility long before you ever arrived at Summerhall.

But lately, the thought had begun to trouble you. You did not wish to be a burden for him to carry, especially not in the marriage bed.

You had taken your horse out that morning, needing the fresh air and the open fields. Riding had always settled your mind.

The mare moved beautifully beneath you, powerful and responsive, shifting easily with the slightest adjustment of your weight.

You guided her through the long meadow beyond the orchard, the wind tugging loose strands of hair free from your pins as you rode hard urging her into a full gallop.

The motion came easily, almost instinctive.

You smiled faintly to yourself. Riding, after all, required understanding the creature beneath you.

And suddenly the realization struck you with perfect clarity. You had spent months letting Maekar guide everything. You had never once tried to take the reins.

That seemed a mistake easily corrected.

————————————————

You found Maekar where you expected. In your chambers, the fire already burning low. He stood near the table removing his rings and pins, movements slow with the quiet fatigue of a long day.

He glanced up when you entered, his violet eyes softening “You were gone some time” he observed.

“I rode farther than intended” you say softy, dropping your cloak by your dressing table.

His gaze lingered briefly on you, your windswept hair, mussed skirts and flushed cheeks was always a look he admired “You should have taken a guard” he scolded

“I was perfectly safe” you reply softly, his care for you always warming your chest.

“I know” he said evenly “That does not mean I enjoy it”

You crossed the room without answering. Maekar sensed the difference immediately.

“You are looking at me as though you have decided something” he said quietly hands settling on your waist,

“I have” you replied your hands settling on his chest.

“Should I be concerned?” His voice lower eyes sweeping your face.

Instead of answering, you stepped closer. Your hands slid up is chest to the collar of his tunic, fingers working the first fastening loose, before the next, fingers teasing his skin,

Maekar stilled with a small shiver “Wife?” he said softly in question, unused to you being so bold.

You said nothing, instead just leaned up and kissed him, The reaction was instant, his hands at your waist pulling you closer with the quiet certainty that had defined your marriage thus far.

His hands slid up meaning to your undo your dress. You pulled back cathcing his wrists gently and moved them back down.

Then you kissed him again, slower this time, tongue gliding against his.

When his hands rose once more, instinctively seeking control, you guided them again, this time resting them deliberately against your hips.

“I will take care of you tonight” you murmured against his mouth.

He froze his brows knit slightly. You kissed him again, slower this time, your fingers moving back to next fastening at his collar, untying till it fell open, your hands roaming the taut skin of his chest, tracing the scars.

“I’m seducing you husband” you said softly as you pushed the shirt from his shoulders “Try to enjoy it”

For a moment Maekar simply looked at you. The firelight caught in his violet eyes, darkening them further. “You assume” he said slowly, voice rougher now “that I am not already” hands flexing on your hips.

You smiled faintly “Then you should stop looking so surprised”

His hands moved again, instinctive as breath, sliding from your hips upward. You caught them once more and guided them back.

Maekar exhaled through his nose, a quiet frustrated sound “Fuck me” he muttered.

You smile at that “Oh I intend to” you mutter leaning forward, kissing him again, slower this time. Your mouth lingering against his before trailing down along the edge of his jaw, sliver hairs of his beard scraping against your skin.

His restraint was thinning now. You could feel it in the tension beneath your hands “You are enjoying this far too much” he murmured.

“Yes ”Your lips brushed the corner of his mouth again “I am.”

His hands flexed against your hips but stayed where you had placed them.

“You realize” he said quietly “that my patience is not fucking infinite”

“That is why I am not wasting it ”Your hands slid back up his chest and pushed gently

Maekar stepped backward slowly, Your mouth followed him between steps, kisses stolen in brief moments that kept him moving.

When the backs of his legs met the bed, he paused. You pushed lightly and he sat.

Maekar leaned back on his hands, watching you now with an intensity that made heat spread through your chest “You are a very dangerous woman” he said quietly

You simply smile at him and step between his knees, you hands coming to the laces of your dress.

His hands rose again, going to help you at your bodice, instead you caught them. Guiding them back to your waist “Patience” you say sultry,

The word made his jaw tighten “That is a cruel command” he muttered.

“You manage it well enough everywhere else” you smile, wiggling out of your dress.

His gaze burned into yours, sweeping down your figure “Not with you, never with you”

You smile leaning down again, kissing him slow and deep, pushin him gently backward onto the bed.

Maekar let himself fall back against the mattress with a quiet breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse.

You climbed onto the bed with him, your nude form settling above him as your fingers slid through his hair.

His hands began to move again. This time slower, testing. You caught them again, guiding them back to your hips.

“I said I would take care of you” you smile against his lips

His breath left him in a low, rough laugh “Gods help me” he muttered.

You laugh softly as your lips trail a scorching path down his chest, tasting the salt of his skin as your tongue flicks over his nipples, drawing a low groan from deep in his throat.

He's sprawled beneath you on the bed, his body tense with anticipation, his hands grip your hips firmly, fingers digging into the firm muscles honed from years of riding horses.

You shift lower, your breath hot against his abdomen, nipping lightly at the silver trail of hair leading downward. His cock strains against the fabric of his pants, hard and insistent, begging for your touch.

With deliberate slowness, you hook your fingers into his waistband and tug it down, freeing his thick shaft. It springs up, throbbing in the air, the head already glistening with pre-cum. You wrap your hand around the base, stroking firmly once, twice, feeling it pulse under your palm as he bucks slightly “Fucking gods woman” he growls head falling back “you are going to be the death of me.”

You laugh lightly crawling back up his body, kissing him as you position yourself above him. Your thighs flex, those rider's legs parting wider to guide his cock to your entrance. You're slick and ready, your pussy aching to take him in. Slowly, you sink down, inch by inch, enveloping his length in your tight heat. A shared gasp escapes you both as he fills you completely, stretching you just right.

Your head falling back with a moan at the feeling of him inside you, starching you perfectly. His hands find his way back to your hips, squeezing tightly as if begging you to move.

You start to move, rolling your hips in a rhythm that's all your own, powerful, controlled, like taming a wild stallion. Up and down, grinding against him, your clit rubbing against his pelvis with each thrust.

You move his hands putting them up to your breast as you bounce, your soft moans filling the room. His hands cup your breasts eagerly as you guide them there, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples with just the right pressure to send jolts of pleasure straight to your core “Bantis ñuha prūmia” he growls as you moan.

You bounce harder now, your strong thighs powering each rise and fall, slamming down onto his cock. Maekar's violet eyes lock onto yours, dark with raw hunger, his chest heaving as he watches your body move above him.

You lean down kissing him, your hips still slamming his The friction builds fast, your walls clenching around his cock as pleasure coils tighter in your core. He thrusts up to meet you, his face contorted in ecstasy, groans turning to desperate moans “Bantis” he murmurs against your lips “Ñuha, aō iā ñuha”

The bed creaks under the force of your movements, his cock throbbing inside you, swelling as his own climax builds.

You grind down one final time, circling your hips to rub your clit against him relentlessly, and it shatters you both. Your orgasm rips through you like a storm, pussy spasming wildly around his shaft, squeezing him in rhythmic pulses as waves of bliss crash over your body. A sharp cry escapes your throat, your back arching as you come hard “Maekar!! Ahhhh!!”

He follows with a guttural roar, thrusting up deep and holding you there, his release erupting in hot spurts that fill you completely.

You collapsed forward onto his chest, both of you panting, bodies slick and spent. His arms came around you immediately, pulling you closer as though he had no intention of letting you ever move again.

For a long moment neither of you spoke.

You shifted slightly where you lay sprawled across him, propping your chin against his chest to look up at him. Maekar’s eyes were half closed, his breathing finally steady again, one arm still wrapped firmly around your back as if you might attempt escape.

You studied him for a moment “Well, my love” you said lightly “how did you enjoy being seduced?”

A quiet huff left him, something almost like a laugh rumbling through his chest “You ambushed me”

“I seduced you” you corrected calmly with a smile.

His hand slid slowly up your back, fingers tracing idle circles along your spine “In High Valyrian” he murmured lazily, “there is a phrase for such tactics Lēda syt bantis”

You narrowed your eyes slightly “That sounds suspicious and vaguely insulting”

His mouth curved faintly as he watched you with quiet amusement.

“What does it mean?” you asked

“I believe” he said slowly “it translates loosely to a clever trap”

You huffed “That does not sound flattering at all” your hand tracing circles on his chest

“On the contrary” he replied softly, violet eyes resting on your face. “It is a compliment”

You narrowed your eyes at him again “You are making that up, speaking words I don’t know to insult me” you say in jest

He did not answer. Instead he leaned down slightly, his forehead brushing yours “Aō nyke lēkia”

You meet his eye, a slow smile spread across your face “That one” you said quietly “I know”

His arm tightened around you slightly “Yes” he murmured “I suspected you might”

You shifted closer, resting your cheek against his chest again, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

A/N: Some High Valyrian translations for you all:

Aō nyke lēkia - I love you

Bantis - Beautful

Ñuha - Mine

aō iā ñuha - You are mine

ñuha prūmia - My heart

The moons that had passed since your marriage had been bliss.

You had your place at court, a title, a feeling of belonging that had once felt impossible. Most importantly you had the most loving man in the seven kingdoms.

Each night Baelor took you to bed with devotion, throughrally undoing you, till you were sure windows shook with the sounds of your moans.

You where happy, truly. But lately, you couldn’t help thinking that you never returned the favour.

Not that Baelor had ever complained, quite the opposite. Your husband had been endlessly patient, gentle when you needed it, reverent even. Yet the pattern had always been the same. He came to you, he guided, he asked and you responded (eagerly) but you never began it.

You decided to change that.

—————————————-

Brought up as a proper lady, of a noble house, you had not been told much of the relations between a man and woman, especially when you were shelved as a spinster.

You remember asking your septa once about it, she simply replied “A lady need not know such filth. On your wedding night to simply lay back and think of the gods” that statement confused you more than ever.

Because now, as a married woman, you knew very well that the marriage bed contained pleasures the gods surely did not disapprove of. Still, you realized there was much you did not know. Especially what pleasures a wife could give her husband.

If knowledge is what you seeked, you felt the library was the obvious place to start.

————————————-

The library at the Red Keep had always been quiet, usually it just you, the maester and sometimes Baelor.

Tonight was different however, tonight you did not wish to be seen.

You slipped between the tall shelves with far more stealth than you thought possible. The maester wandered somewhere deeper as you tip toed past him. The candles burned low, and your heart beat far too quickly for someone merely seeking a book.

A particular book. One that you hear ladies whisper of, whilst blushing a deep scarlet.

It had taken nearly an hour to find it, clearly tucked away on a high shelf, as to not fall into unknowing hands.

‘A Caution for Young Girls’ the green cover read. You opened it cautiously and flicked through the pages, not knowing what to expect, maybe some vague details like your septa’s lectures.

What you had not expected, was instruction. Vivid and detailed instructions.

Your eyes flew wide and your face burned hotter with every page you turned. Vivid descriptions of how a wife might please her husband. Of the ways a woman might guide him, touch him, invite him, seduce him.

You turned your head trying to understand some of the positions illustrated.

You tucked yourself away in the corner, devouring the passages with growing fascination, till one passage took your attention.

Your eyes widened and your breathing came faster as you read, then re-read the passage. Your thighs instinctively clenching at the thought of doing this with Bealor, breathless a smile coming to your face. So this was what you had been missing.

You snapped the book shut, determined.

You returned the book carefully to its place, cheeks flushed and thoughts far less proper than when you arrived.

Tonight, you decided, you would try your new found skill.

⸻——————————————————-

Baelor was already your shared chambers when you returned. He had shed the heavier layers of his court attire, now in only his tunic and breeches, reading by the fire. You always loved how the firelight caught the silver strands in his hair, threaded among the dark ones.

He looked up the moment you entered, expression softening immediately “There you are my love” he said gently “I was beginning to think the library had stolen you away”

You closed the door behind you, smiling despite your hammering pulse “I found something interesting” you replied, trying to sound composed despite your warm face.

Baelor smiled faintly “That is usually how libraries work”

You crossed the room slowly. Normally, this would be the moment you would sit beside him and allow him to pull you close.

Instead, you stepped directly in front of him and reached out, taking the book from his hands. Baelor blinked once in mild surprise. “My love?”

You set the book aside, your lips parting in a nervous yet excited smile. Climbing onto his lap, you straddle him, your body pressing against his, a bold declaration of your intentions.

“Are you well?” he asked surprised but intrigued, searching your face.

You leaned down, your lips brushing his jaw “Yes” you say sofly, testing.

His breath caught as your mouth traced slowly along the line of his jaw, to his chin, before finally finding his lips. Then you kissed him slowly, deliberately. His hands instinctively rose to your waist, but he did not pull you closer, he was still trying to understand what had changed.

You kissed him again, deeper this time, gasping into his mouth as his hands tightened. When you finally drew back, his mismatched eyes were darker than usual “Have I done something to deserve this sudden generosity?” he murmured, his lips trying to find yours again as you move back.

“I have been reading” you say sofly, your eyes meeting his

He studied you now with clear suspicion. “Should I be concerned?”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you shake your head "Tonight, I want to show you something new" you say quietly, your words carrying a promise "I've learned a few things, and I want to share them with you"

Baelor's breath catches, as you look into his eyes, a mix of determination and desire in your gaze "I want to show you how much I desire you" you say, your voice steady despite the flutter in your stomach.

Baelor's eyes shine with a mix of love and admiration. He understands the significance of this moment, the courage it took for you to step into this role "Lead the way, my love" he says, his voice thick with desire,

You kiss down his chest, going lower and lower keeping your eyes on his. You gently remove his hands as you slowly sink to your knees, your movements graceful yet purposeful.

Your hands go to the ties of his breeches, tugging them loose with trembling fingers. Baelor's breath catches, his eyes darkening as he watched you free his cock, his hands flexing around the arms of his char.

His cock springs out, thick and half-hard, the shaft veined and heavy, the head flushed. You wrap your hand around the base, feeling it thicken and pulse in your grip as you stroke upward slowly. Remembering the passage in the book.

You look back up at him, you can see the anticipation in his eyes, the desire mirrored in the way his breath quickens. A bead of pre-cum welled at the tip, and you lean in, your tongue flicking out to lap it up. The salty taste made you hum, and Baelor groaned, his fingers threading lightly into your hair "Gods, yes" he breathed, his hips shifting forward instinctively his head falling back.

Licking your lips, you lean forward, your breath warm against his shaft. You tease him, running your tongue along the length of his cock, leaving a trail of moisture. Baelor's moan is soft, almost a whimper, as he closes his eyes, surrendering to the sensation.

With a confident smile, you wrap your hands around his hardness, feeling the warmth and the pulse of his desire. Your mouth opens, and you take him in, slowly at first, savoring the taste and the feel of him. You suck gently, your lips stretching around his thickness, and Baelor's hands find their way into your hair, gripping gently as he encourages you.

Your mouth works him, a slow, sensual rhythm, your tongue dancing along his sensitive tip. You remember what the book said and hollow your cheeks, creating a vacuum, Baelor's eyes flutter, his head tilts back, and a soft groan escapes his throat, a curse in a language you don’t understand leaving his lips.

You continue, your eyes never leaving his face. Your hands move to cup his balls, massaging gently, adding another layer of pleasure, a sound leaving his lips that you had never head before, something between a growl and a whimper. Baelor's hips begin to thrust up, meeting your mouth, his movements guided by the rhythm you set.

As you continue, your confidence grows. You take him deeper, your throat relaxing, accommodating his size. Baelor's hands tighten in your hair, as he moans.

"That's it, my sweet seductress, ñuha dāria" he murmurs, his voice hoarse “my love, Ñuha jorrāelagon, my everything”

Your mouth works him with a fervor, a determination to please, to give him an experience unlike any other. You feel his cock pulse against your tongue, and you quicken your pace, wanting to bring him over the edge.

Baelor's eyes are closed now, his face a mask of pleasure, his body tense with the build-up. You can sense his control slipping, his groans growing louder, more desperate. "I'm close, please my love, please don't stop, Ñuha prūmia!"

His cum fills your mouth, a warm, salty rush, and you swallow, taking it all, milking every drop. Baelor's body shudders, his eyes snapping open, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as he goes boneless.

You pull away with a soft pop, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. Wiping the corner of your mouth as you rise to straddle him again, his arms coming automatically around you as though they had always belonged there.

Baelor looked thoroughly undone, His eyes were half-lidded and glazed, a sated smile-curving his lips “That was…………” he murmured, his voice rough with lingering pleasure “beyond words”

You could not help the small, proud smile that answered his “That is fortunate” you replied lightly, hand caressing his face “I found a book most informative and I suspect I have only begun studying” you tease

Baelor’s hands tightened fractionally at your waist as he exhaled a soft, incredulous laugh “Gods help me” he murmured, tilting his head back against the chair as he looked up at you, admiration plain in his mismatched eyes.

You laughed softly, leaning down until your forehead rested against his, planning many more recreations from the passages.

A/N: Some High Valyrian translations for you all:

Ñuha jorrāelagon - My Beloved

ñuha dāria - My Queen