°•. clementine .•°

The first sensation you registered was warmth: the solid heat of Maekar's muscular arm draped possessively around your waist. You shifted slightly in sleep; his arm tightened, pulling you flush against the firm plane of his chest. He was already awake, his gaze on you so palpably you felt it on your skin. Then his lips came to you — first a feather-light kiss at your temple, his beard tickling, then another on your cheekbone. He pressed closer; through the thin fabric of your nightgown you felt the hard length of him against your thigh. A low pulse of desire kindled in you. His lips trailed down your throat and you stirred, a soft hum in your chest as you turned toward him.

"Good morning, my love," you murmured, voice thick with sleep and something more.

A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. He answered with a deeper press of his hips, his erection a hard promise against you. You responded instinctively, lifting your leg and wrapping it around his waist, opening yourself to him. The gesture was an invitation, a surrender, a demand all at once. He shifted, his hand moving from your waist to grip your thigh, lifting it higher over his hip. He ground against you, the thick ridge of his cock sliding through your folds. The friction was exquisite, a slow, deliberate torture that had you arching your back, a silent plea for more. He seemed to understand. With one hand, he impatiently pushed the hem of your gown up to your waist, his knuckles brushing against your sensitized skin. He paused for a moment, his gaze dropping to where your bodies were about to join. Then he guided the blunt head of his cock to your entrance. He didn't thrust in immediately. Instead, he teased you, circling your clit with the tip, spreading your wetness, making you whimper with need.

"Maekar," you breathed, your hands fisting in the sheets.

Then he entered you, inch by thick inch, letting you feel every stretch, until you both sighed together. His rhythm was languid and possessive. He watched your face as he moved, his violet eyes dark with lust and a deep, unwavering affection. One hand remained on your hip, holding you steady, while the other roamed, tracing the curve of your breast, thumbing a pebbled nipple, then moving down to press against your lower belly, as if he could feel himself inside you from there.

You met his gaze, your own eyes wide and pleading. "Harder," you whispered. He obliged, just a little. His thrusts became deeper, faster, the angle changing so that he brushed against that spot inside you with every pass. A gasp tore from your throat. He leaned down, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was just as deep as his fucking. You could feel the orgasm coiling in your core, tight and hot. He must have felt it too — the way your inner walls began to flutter around him.

"That's it, my love," he rasped, his voice a low gravel. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

His words were your undoing. With a sharp cry, you shattered. The pleasure washed over you in waves, intense and all-consuming. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound of satisfaction, and thrust into you one last, hard time, burying himself as deep as he could go. You felt the hot pulse of his release as he spilled inside you. He stayed there, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you breathing heavily in the quiet aftermath.

Maekar felt the quiet satisfaction of a man who considered himself more than adequate to the task. He pressed a soft kiss to your sweat-dampened forehead before carefully pulling out of you. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his powerful muscles flexing as he prepared to rise. But before he could stand, you shot out a hand and caught his wrist.

"Where are you going?" Your voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, a new hunger already stirring in the aftermath of your pleasure. He looked back at you, his eyebrow quirking in amusement.

"Again?" he asked, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

You just smiled, a slow, feline curve of your lips. That was all the invitation he needed. With a groan that was part exasperation and part pure, unadulterated lust, he got back into bed. He didn't bother with gentle this time.

Later that afternoon, you found him in the passage off the eastern corridor. He was speaking with a steward, his expression serious and focused — a stark contrast to the passionate man from your bed that morning. You waited patiently, leaning against the stone archway, until the steward bowed and took his leave.

As Maekar turned to continue down the hall, you appeared at his elbow as if by magic. You didn't say a word, just gave him a look — a look that promised sin and immediate gratification. He stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly. You took his hand, your fingers lacing with his, and steered him toward a section of the wall he had never paid any mind to, drawing him into a narrow passageway.

The space was tiny, dark, and smelled of dust and old stone. You pressed him back against the wall, your body molding to his, a cheerfulness in your eyes that he found both alarming and extremely compelling.

"Someone will hear," he said, his voice a low warning, even as his hands came to rest on your hips.

"Then we had best be quiet," you said pleasantly, before rising onto your toes and crushing your mouth to his.

You were not quiet.

That evening, you came to the solar as the afternoon light went gold, leaning against the doorway and just watching him. He was seated at his large oak desk, a stack of parchment before him, a book open in his hands.

"I am working," he said, without looking up.

"You were staring at the same page when I came in," you replied, your voice soft and teasing.

This was true. He had been. He closed the book with a soft thud, a sigh escaping him. A slow smile touched his lips. He knew why you were here. You walked toward him, your hips swaying slightly, a small, knowing smile on your face. When you reached him, he took your hand and pulled you down onto his lap. He kissed you, a slow, deep kiss that tasted of wine and shared secrets. His hands roamed your body, relearning every curve. This time, he was slow with you.

Later that night, he was already in bed, propped up against the headboard, a book in his lap. He looked tired, but his eyes lit up when he saw you. You were wearing a sheer, almost transparent shift that left little to the imagination. You slid into bed beside him, taking the book from his hands and setting it aside without a word. You straddled his hips, your knees on either side of his powerful thighs. In no time at all, the sound of your bodies meeting filled the quiet room. You collapsed against his chest, boneless and utterly spent.

He fell asleep with you draped over him, your head on his shoulder, your breathing soft and even against his skin. He felt extraordinarily pleased with himself. Five times. He felt not merely capable but frankly impressive. He had satisfied his young, insatiable wife, filled her with his seed again and again. He thought of the child you both wanted, and a deep, primal sense of accomplishment settled over him. He slept the sleep of a satisfied and confident man, his arms wrapped tightly around the woman he adored.

It was the last truly restful night he would have for some time.

ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴏ

The first thing he was aware of was a wet, insistent heat. A groan rumbled in his chest as consciousness slowly returned, his heavy limbs sinking into the mattress. He blinked his eyes open, the dim morning light filtering through the curtains, and looked down. There you were, your head bobbing over his lap, your mouth wrapped around his rapidly hardening cock. One of his hands instinctively flew to your hair, his fingers tangling in the wild mass of your curls — not to guide you, but simply to anchor himself in the exquisite, overwhelming pleasure. Later, as you lay tangled together, a sweaty, panting mess, he thought he was the most fortunate man in the world. He revised this opinion as the day progressed.

The late morning air was crisp and clean as you rode out together, the sun warming your faces. Maekar was beginning to feel the profound ache of the previous day in his very bones, a deep-seated weariness that clung to him — but the sight of you, laughing freely as your horse trotted alongside his, filled him with a simple, uncomplicated contentment. You pulled your horse up suddenly near a dense stand of trees, where the grass grew long and looked invitingly soft. You turned to him, and he saw that look in your eyes — that delicious, determined glint he was rapidly becoming an expert at reading. He scanned the path. It was empty, the road quiet for now.

"Here?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"Here," you confirmed, already swinging your leg over your horse and landing gracefully on the ground.

Maekar sat astride his mount for a moment longer, a prince of the realm contemplating his dignity — but the sight of you, already waiting for him with a patient, knowing smile, was a more powerful force. At one point, the distant sound of hoofbeats echoed on the path, and he froze instantly, his body tensing. You just laughed quietly against his throat, the vibrations sending a shiver through him. He decided he had faced down considerably more threatening situations on a battlefield and carried on, the thrilling risk of discovery only making the frantic coupling more intense.

Upon your return to the castle, Maekar all but fled to his chambers, requesting a bath. Hot water. Peace. A single moment to exist without being required to perform. He sank into the steaming water with a sigh of profound relief, letting the heat soothe his aching muscles. He was in it for perhaps four minutes before the door creaked open. You were already unwrapping your robe, your eyes fixed on him. He watched you climb into the large tub with the expression of a man watching an inevitable, beautiful natural disaster.

"You cannot possibly," he said, his voice a low groan of protest.

"I only want to bathe with my husband," you said, your tone entirely too innocent as you settled into his lap.

"You have never simply bathed in your life," he accused — but his hands found your waist regardless, pulling you closer.

In bed that evening, he lay propped against the pillows, watching you in the warm glow of the firelight. He felt the familiar, relentless pull of you — the wanting that had not dimmed one bit, regardless of the state of the rest of him, and he sighed from somewhere very deep in his soul.

"You are going to be the end of me," he said, a statement of fact rather than a complaint.

"Not yet," you said cheerfully, and climbed into bed, your naked body sliding against his.

ᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

Dawn was a grey suggestion at the windows when you moved over him, a familiar warmth settling over his prone form. Maekar's eyes fluttered open, one eye squinting at the ceiling as a low groan rumbled in his chest. He was exhausted, every muscle in his powerful body aching with a sweet, profound soreness, but you were already awake, your eyes bright and determined in the gloom.

"Fuck me," he muttered, the words a breathless prayer.

You leaned down, your hair creating a wild curtain around his face. A slow, wicked smile curved your lips. "That's what I'm trying to do."

He stared at you. In the dim light, you were a goddess of the dawn, all soft skin and resolute purpose. He thought of the man he had been a mere three days ago. Smug in his strength, confident in his stamina, certain that meeting his young wife's desires was a task he could master with ease. What a fool. He saw it now, the utter, beautiful delusion of his pride. With a sigh that was equal parts defeat and surrender, he placed his hands on your hips, his thumbs stroking the soft skin there.

He was a fool, and he was yours.

Somehow, through sheer stubborn will, he made it to his study by afternoon. He slumped in the heavy leather chair behind his desk, the scent of old parchment and wax filling his nostrils. Documents lay strewn before him, the ink blurring into meaningless symbols. He had been staring at the same treaty for an hour when the door creaked open.

"No," he said, his voice rough, not even bothering to look up from the page. He knew the sound of those footsteps. Your soft tread crossed the room, stopping just before his desk. He finally lifted his head, and there it was — that fond, knowing expression, the one you wore when you found him particularly amusing.

"You look weary, husband," you said, your voice laced with a syrupy sympathy that was utterly false.

"I wonder why," he shot back, the edge in his voice blunted by exhaustion.

You gracefully sat in the chair opposite him, arranging your skirts with deliberate slowness. He watched you, a creature of vibrant energy in a room that felt as drained as he did.

"What has gotten into you?" he asked, the question genuine, though he feared he already knew the answer.

"A babe," you said, your eyes gleaming with playful fire, "I pray."

Silence. The only sound was the birds in the trees. He let his head fall back against the chair, staring at the carved wooden ceiling.

"My well has run dry," he confessed, the words tasting of ash. "I am one man. Three days you have had me at every hour the gods see fit to send, and I have nothing left."

You tilted your head, a picture of concern so transparently false it was almost insulting. "Well," you said, rising from your seat, your voice dripping with exaggerated pity, "if you truly cannot manage. I suppose that is fair. You are not as young as you once—"

That was it. The final straw. He was out of his chair before you could finish the taunt, the heavy wood scraping against the floorboards.

"Sit down," he commanded.

ᴡᴇᴇᴋꜱ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ

The world had softened into a gentle rhythm. The frantic, relentless pace of those first days had somewhat subsided. He was asleep in the chair by the fire when you returned from the maester, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the room. You moved silently, sinking to your knees beside him and curling against his side, resting your head on the solid warmth of his chest. He stirred, his arm instinctively wrapping around you, pulling you closer even in his sleep.

"Maekar," you whispered, your heart thrumming against your ribs.

"Mm," he murmured, his voice thick with slumber.

"The maester confirmed it."

He went utterly still. The hand on your back froze. Then, slowly, he opened his eyes. He looked down at you, his gaze searching your face in the flickering firelight. He looked at this woman who had systematically dismantled his pride, worn his body to the very bone, and in doing so, had given him the entire world. A terrifying, exhilarating wave of love and awe moved through his chest. His hand found yours, his thumb moving slowly, reverently, across your knuckles.

"Satisfied?" his voice a husky whisper.

You looked up at him, your eyes bright with tears and entirely, beautifully unrepentant.

"For now,"

Maekar closed his eyes, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his face.

"Gods help me," he breathed.

tags for reach (please let me know if you don't want to get tagged):

Sevika insisted she show you what a real man should fuck you like. You'd been complaining about your dumbass boyfriend who rubbed your thigh for 45 minutes telling you to cum whenever you felt close. Eventually you had to just moan and pretend you'd finished, because everytime you attempted to guide his hand to your actual pussy he'd say "nuh uh princess, daddy knows exactly what he's doing." Given that he didnt FUCKING KNOW WHAT HE WAS DOING, you just needed it to be over.

When you told sevi about this, she immediately shoved her hand down your panties. You gasped and grabbed her bicep, but you didn't attempt to stop her. When she immediately found your clit and thumbed at it, she laughed. "I dont understand men. Clits the easiest part to find."

She thumbed at you a little before getting frustrated. "Your boyfriends weak, you need a butch to fuck you good. I'm good for that, mamas."

You tried not to cringe but to no avail. Mamas? Lord, she really was an asshole, a walking stereotype. "Come on, let me turn you into a lesbian." She said, pawing at your tits under your shirt. Given that you had told her multiple times you were bi, you damn near gave her your hundredth 'bisexuality is valid' speech. But, right now, you didn't mind getting fucked by an asshole if it meant you'd at least get fucked.

You slid off your trousers while she unbuttoned the fly on her jeans. Why didn't it surprise you that she was packing? Every time you came round her house she seemed to have a bulge, or a thick cylinder against one of her thighs. "You've been waiting for the day i finally let you, haven't you?" you scoff, watching as she grabs a small vibrator out her pocket to stuff into herself while she fucks you.

"Ive been anticipating it mamas. Knew you couldn't resist me. Im just too fucking hot." Okay, she was cocky, but you couldn't deny it was warranted. She was really hot. Her toned arms, her abs, that giant muscular ass. She was very, very sexy. She just had the personality of a wet shower mat.

She opted to tear a hole in your panties instead of taking them off and you yelped. "Those were expensive you bitch!" You shouted, slapping her shoulder with the back of your hand. "What's a slut like you doing with expensive panties?" She taunted while sliding the tip of her strap between your folds. You groaned when she slapped it against your clit.

"My boyfriend bought them for me, if you must know!" You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. She laughed and turned her vibrator onto the lowest setting, her breath hitching. "Give up on men. Stop pretending you're not a dyke." She grumbled, making your eyes roll again. Shes such an ass.

Despite how pissed you were with her ripping your panties, she seemed to learn nothing and ripped your shirt. You yelped again but were shushed when she stuffed her cock into you and held there. The sudden stretch was overwhelming. She was so big. Your boyfriend was a humble and perfectly okay 5 inches, but from the way Sevikas dick was poking out of your tummy you could tell she was much bigger.

She pressed down her hand on your stomach and groaned. "Fuck, I'm so big. I stuff you so good." She moaned out.

Was she seriously... Praising?? Herself?? "Fuck im so good. I fuck you so good."

Yes, yes she was.

She wound her hips a little while playing with your nipples, her length grinding against your spots. You were so filled up, starting to feel pretty dumb as you struggled to accommodate her dick. She turned up her vibrator again. "You're such a fucking slut. Sitting here with your clothes ruined, gripping on my hips, what about your poor little boyfriend, hm?" She spoke darkly, the rasp in her voice suddenly much more prominent.

You started to play with your clit a little, but she batted your hand away. She didn't replace it with her own, making you wind up your face in frustration. "Im fucking you deep enough. Dont try that shit."

.. Did she not know that some people cant cum from penetration..

"I dont care if you don't cum. I just want to ruin that cunt."

Right.

She hoisted her leg up so as to place her foot onto the sofa, lifting your leg and pressing it against your head. She started roughly fucking into your pussy, your eyes rolling back as the base of her strap slapped against your ass with each thrust. Each time she pulled almost the whole way out and slammed back in to the base you whined, hands going up to play with your nipples.

"Fuck, im doing so good." she groaned, turning up her vibrator just a little more. "Fuck im so good! I fuck you so good!" She shouted, thick fingers shoving their way down your throat, making you gag, making tears trickle down your cheeks. "I bet when he throat fucks you he barely touches the back of your mouth." She mutters, fingers harshly pushing as far down your throat as she can get them. Its true, her fingers are pretty much the same size as his dick, though much thicker. Shes a big woman! Its not your boyfriends fault that hes small!

"Fuck baby you feel that?" Youre confused when you feel liquid start to fill your pussy, even more confused when Sevika pulls out momentarily to shoot it across your tits. "Cumming on you baby, cumming across that pretty body. Fuck, such a slut. So messy." She pants out, rubbing her strap as if its a real cock. She slams back in and you use her 'cum' to assist in circling your nipples. She keeps filling you, her strap clearly filled with a lot of this substance. It leaks out of you with each thrust and forms thick webs between her thighs and yours.

"Fuck im filling you so much, im cumming in you so much. Gonna breed you baby, gonna fill up that pussy with my cum." She moans, her vibrator now on max.

"B-breed me- g-give me your cum Sevi -" you stammer. Her eyes are now shut completely, so you take the opportunity to quickly rub at your clit. You're so close, feeling her fill you was damn close to making you cum, her pace brutal, but you need that extra bit of stimulation.

You scream out "Sevikaa-" cumming onto her messy cock, your pussy ruined, and its all so hot until-

"SEVIKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

She roars it out with no shame.

What.

The.

Fuck.

What the actual.

You cant help laughing, even with her dick still burried inside you, still slamming into you. She shoves her fingers back into your mouth to shut you up. Shes still saying her name! She is still breathing out her OWN name with each thrust.

She pulls out and shoves her dick in your face, cum leaking onto your cheeks and into your hair. "Stop it, you asshole!" You giggle when she just starts using her dick as a paintbrush to cover your entire body in her mess.

"Ewwww this is so gross," you complain, wiping your breasts off with your ripped shirt. "Fuck sake Sevika, this bra was new!"

She scoffs and pulls out her vibrator, shoving it into your mouth. She walks off and starts smoking on the balcony. Erm. Excuse you. You suck her juices off a little, expecting her to come back, maybe lift you over her shoulder and carry you into the bath. Nope. She starts watching YouTube reels loud as fuck.

"Are you gonna clean me up or what?" You yell. Your pussy is gaping, you're drenched in fake cum and, quite frankly, she owes you some form of aftercare if she doesn't want you spreading that she moans her own name when she cums!

"Nah, showers back there." She points lazily with her thumb. Shes such a dick.