june's words

You and Gwayne both knew that as long as you lived, you'd look for each other everywhere. In every great hall, at every tourney, in every crowd.

You could lock yourself away, hide the keys, and you'd crawl your way back to him with your bare hands. You could run away to the forests, and you'd hear his voice in every breeze till the end of time.

In the beginning, you attempted to stop: tried to be the good daughter, the perfect, pure lady. But it was all for naught. So the next time he held your gaze across the room before slipping off, you knew right away where to find him.

If you saw him in the corridor, you tried to keep your poise as you passed by each other, only for him to pull you by the hand at the last minute and sweep you to a hidden alcove. With his mouth hungry on you, he devoured you in secret, making you come for him in the shadows.

There were days when you wished someone would catch you in the act, so that it could all be done with. You would give up everything if it meant you could have each other. You'd rather be cast out forever than be denied his touch. But you knew he'd never do that to you.

Let them see how much you love me...

You thought, as he pushed you against the cold stone walls.

Let them see what I let you do to me...

You thought as he filled you with his fingers better than you knew anyone ever would.

You were all at a tourney in King's Landing, and your father was ever busy trying to create a match. He was intent on making the richest, most powerful eligible lord your husband. He paraded you around on his arm, dressed in the most beautiful gowns; you were like a picture of the Maiden herself.

The suitors were plenty; your days were filled with forced smiles and strolls in the gardens that felt like they would never end.

At night, you chafed your knees as you knelt in front of Gwayne, taking his cock in your mouth.

When the tourney ended, things would be changed forever. Each night, you already began to dread the morning because it meant you had that much less time.

Your father would never let you marry him. The son of a second son was not good enough for him, not even if he was a Hightower. Your eyes filled with tears as you were pressed against the wall, with Gwayne's breath in your ears and his hands on you.

'I only want you,' you gasped, as he reached under your skirt.

'I know,' he said as he slipped his hand into your undergarments. You were so unbelievably wet for him, like someone who hadn't been touched for years. It was a thirst that only he could quench.

The way he moved his fingers on you made your head spin, and you bucked against his hand. It was painful to know that you couldn't have him fully; the thought made your entire body ache for whatever you could get.

He placed his hand on your mouth to keep you quiet, and that made your heart beat faster. He kept fingering you as he hushed you, and it was all so much; you came, letting out muffled moans against his palm.

He then turned you around, and you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling. He buried his face in your hair as he slid his cock against your cunt, never pushing in. This was the furthest he let himself go; every time, you ached as he dragged himself against you, rutting until he managed to make himself come from the friction. Today, you wanted more.

'Take me, Gwayne,' you begged him, 'ruin me for everyone else.'

'Don't say that,' his voice broke. You knew he wanted to, but he could never forgive himself if he did.

'Make me yours,' you continued, as you felt him get so close to your entrance each time, then pull back, 'spoil me so they can't steal me from you...'

But you knew he wouldn't. And still, you were his. There was no need for anything else for that to be true. You knew it like you knew you were alive. Even if they made you marry another, your soul would remain tethered to him forever.

When he was close, you took him in your mouth, and he finished on your tongue, not leaving a single trace of your tryst behind. As he held you in his arms, neither of you wanting to return to your reality, he softly stroked your hair.

'They will not steal you for me,' he whispered.