he hummed in approval and went back to the laces, one by one the cords gave way. he slipped the fabric from your shoulders, letting it fall, then drew the shift beneath down your body inch by inch. each new expanse of skin earned a kiss—the slope of your collarbone, the upper swell of your breasts, the curve of your belly, the flare of your hips. his blond stubble scraped softly against you with every press of his mouth, making you shiver and whimper. you stood completely bare before him long before he stepped back to admire what he had uncovered.

cool air kissed your naked skin, tightening your nipples and raising goosebumps along your arms and the undersides of your thighs. daeron remained fully clothed—doublet still buttoned to the throat, damask mantle draped across his shoulders, breeches laced, the faint scent of wine clinging to the fine fabric. the contrast sent a fresh wave of heat through you. you, utterly exposed, every curve and intimate place on display, while he stood before you looking every bit the targaryen prince.

he turned you slowly until your back met his chest. the textured weave of his doublet pressed against your bare skin, rough in places where embroidery caught. you felt the cool metal of a clasp at your spine and the solid weight of his belt buckle against the upper curve of your ass. one of his arms banded around your waist, hand spreading wide over the soft fullness of your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it peaked harder beneath his touch. his other hand slid downward, over the swell of your stomach.

“spread for me,” he murmured against your ear, the words warm and commanding.

you parted your thighs willingly, and he made a low sound of approval. “good girl. just like that.”

his fingers traced the inside of one thigh first, savoring the softness, before gliding through the slick heat between your legs. he didn’t rush - wanting to take his time with you. two fingers stroked along your folds, gathering the wetness that had been building all evening, circling your clit slowly.

“already so wet for me,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “been thinking about this all night, haven’t you, love?”

you rocked back into him instinctively, a soft sound escaping you. “yes… since you first looked at me.”

daeron had been instantly enthralled the moment his eyes found you across the crowded hall. your dornish warmth had stood out. the glow of your skin in the torchlight, the way your gown had clung to every curve of your figure. he had crossed the room with that half-smile, offering a goblet of wine from his own table. conversation had followed easily, his dry wit meeting your own, the space between you shrinking with every shared cup until laughter turned into heated tension and the pull between you had become impossible to ignore. one moment you were still among the guests; the next, his hand had brushed yours and the two of you had slipped away to the privacy of his chambers.

his fingers stroked your clit in slow, tight circles before one sank inside you, then two. he pumped them slowly, curling on each upstroke to drag against that perfect spot, while his thumb never left your clit. his clothed body stayed pressed tight to your back—the doublet shifting against your bare skin with every small movement, the hard line of his cock trapped in his breeches and grinding lightly against your ass. you rocked back into him instinctively, a soft sound escaping you.

he took the opportunity to mouth at your neck—open, wet kisses first, then the careful press of teeth. he bit down just enough to make you jolt, then soothed the spot with his tongue, the scrape of his beard dragging over sensitive skin. another bite followed lower, near the junction of your neck and shoulder, then another, each one sending waves of hear to your belly. his free hand roamed upward again, cupping and squeezing your breast, rolling the nipple while his fingers continued their slow rhythm inside you.

"does this feel good, sweet girl?"

you rocked back into his hand instinctively, a soft moan escaping you. “yes..so good..mmm.."

you were dripping for him, the wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out filling the quiet chamber alongside your shared breathing. he added the slightest twist to his wrist, scissoring gently to stretch you further, and your knees gave out. he caught you easily, arm tightening around your waist, holding your body steady against him while he worked you slowly.

“that’s it,” he praised against another bite mark, voice thick with lust. his fingers never sped up; they stayed deep, thumb circling tighter on your clit until pleasure built in steady waves.

you trembled in his arms, thighs shaking. “daeron… i’m close—”

“i know,” he soothed, thumb circling your clit with more pressure. “i know you are. cum for me.”

your orgasm finally crested, rolling through you in waves. your walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers, wetness coating them as you gasped his name. he worked you through every pulse, fingers gentle but never stopping until you were shaking and oversensitive in his arms.

his lilac eyes never left yours, even as stepped back and began to undress. the doublet came off first, then the mantle, followed by his shirt. he pushed his breeches down his legs until he stood fully bare before you, his cock hard and already leaking at the tip.

he eased his hand free, bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth to taste you while you watched over your shoulder.

you couldn't help the whine that left you. the sight of him tasting your release, the way he moaned around his fingers, made you clench around nothing.

he climbed over you, one knee nudging your thighs wider as he settled between them. the heat of his bare skin against yours made your breath catch. he notched the head of his cock against your entrance and pushed in slowly, watching your face the entire time. inch by inch he filled you, the stretch perfect after his fingers, your body yielding to him with a wet sound. when he bottomed out, hips flush to yours, he stayed there for a long moment, forehead resting against yours, breathing hard.

“seven hells… you feel perfect,” he whispered. “so warm. so tight around me. like you were made for this.”

he began to move with the same unhurried control—deep, rolling thrusts that dragged every inch of him along your sensitive walls. one hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh, holding you open; the other braced beside your head. he kept the pace measured, deliberate, even as sweat beaded at his temples and his sandy hair fell into his eyes. each thrust was designed to make you feel every bit of him.

your hands found his shoulders, fingers curling into his skin as you arched beneath him. he leaned down to mouth at your neck once more—kisses and bites interspersed with the deep, slow drag of his cock. the combination was overwhelming—the scrape of his beard, the sting of his teeth, the steady fullness stretching you open. you wrapped your thighs around his waist, heels pressing into the backs of his thighs, pulling him deeper.

his hips rolled into you in that perfect way that ground against your clit with every stroke. your second release built more gradually, a warm, inevitable wave that finally broke with a soft moan. your walls tightened around him in rhythmic pulses. daeron groaned low against your marked neck but didn’t speed up—he fucked you through it with the same slow, deep strokes, letting you ride out every aftershock.

when your body began to soften beneath him did his own control finally fray at the edges. his thrusts grew harder, with more weight behind them as he chased his end. you felt the tension coiling in him—the tremor in the arm braced beside you, the way his fingers tightened on your thigh. he buried himself deep on the final thrust and stayed there, hips pressed tight as he came. you felt the hot, thick pulse of him inside you—wave after wave filling you until it leaked around where you were joined. his mouth latched onto the side of your neck one last time, biting down through the height of it.

a shudder ran through him as he released. then he collapsed half on top of you, still buried deep, still mostly clothed, his doublet soft against your bare skin where it wasn’t rumpled from your hands. for a long while the only sounds were your shared breathing and the faint, distant music from the feast still drifting through the stone. daeron’s weight was comforting, grounding. eventually he lifted his head, pressing a gentler kiss to one of the bite marks he’d left, then another to your lips...slower, sweeter.

he didn’t pull out right away. he stayed inside you, hips making small, lazy rolls as the last tremors faded, his hand stroking soothingly over the soft curve of your hip. when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse but fond.

“stay,” he said quietly, the word half request, half command. his eyes searched yours, that familiar hint of melancholy flickering beneath the satisfaction. “the feast can go on without us.”