Spring Brake
pairing: rich kid!Aemond × fem!rich kid!Reader
summary: You should always get revenge on your high school situationship who did you wrong. (massive fail)
warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI (explicit p in v sex, unprotected, pull out method used and please dont do that, fingering, car sex, overstimulation, praise, lil dirty talk, degrading language) mature themes, possessive aemond? slightly toxic? tiny bit of fluff at the end.
word count: 5.8k
note: tate mcrae: sports car you'll always be famous (special mention fast times by sabrina carpenter). my love for em dashes and commas here is evident.
The problem with coming home for spring break wasn’t the parties, or the endless flow of overpriced cocktails, or the fact that everyone here had too much money and too little self-control. No, the problem was him.
Aemond Targaryen, in all his brooding, infuriating, six-foot-something, too-expensive-for-his-own-good glory.
He was a complication wrapped in designer black, an unreadable expression, and a voice that could cut like the edge of a whiskey glass. He was also the son of your father’s friend, which meant you had spent years orbiting each other at charity galas, yacht parties, and sporting events meant only for people whose credit card limit was more than the price of some houses.
“Missed me?” you teased, plucking the drink from his hand and taking a sip before he could stop you. The burn of whiskey hits your tongue, smooth and bitter.
Aemond’s eye flicked to yours, unimpressed. “Not particularly.”
You grinned. “Liar.”
You didn’t miss the way his gaze dropped, just for a second, taking in your barely-there outfit—something silky and low-cut, designed to get under his skin. He was composed as always, but you knew better.
“Still brooding, I see,” you mused, handing his drink back. Aemond exhaled sharply, the closest thing to a laugh you were going to get. “Still trying too hard,” he countered.
“Oh darling, I do not think I need to try”, you said with a wink, eyes moving to give a quick glance to the girl beside him. The judgement, evident in your face as you looked at her. “Tragic,” you sighed, eyeing the girl’s last-season Chanel. “Plaid? In this economy?”. Everyone knew that plaid was getting out of fashion and incurring the downfall of the French brand. She blinked confused, clearly unsure whether you were joking. You weren’t. “You should try the hors d’oeuvres, sweetheart,” you said with a slow smile. “Might be the richest thing you’ve ever tasted.”. She opened and closed her mouth like a blubbering fish. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks and she all but stomped away.
“What did she ever do to you?” Aemond’s face was now etched with a sly smirk. “Though I think I should thank you for scaring her away. The girl was becoming a bore.” He swirled the last remnants of whiskey in his glass before downing it in one smooth motion. Then, he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Still," his eye raked over you, slow and deliberate, "I have to ask—are you always this territorial, or only when it’s me?"
“Me? Territorial?” His words did pull an amused chuckle from you. “My dear Aem. if I was territorial”, a barely there kiss on his cheek, “you’d know it.”
Aemond clenched his jaw, he could feel he was losing the upper hand in this game of push pull you two had going on since god knows for how long. Just like before. Like the summer at the yacht club, when a stupid game of spin the bottle changed everything. The mothers drinking their wine and taking puffs of cigarettes, the fathers playing pool and sipping their bourbons. And that left the kids to get up to no good.
It was Cerelle Lannister’s idea of gathering everyone and playing the silly game. Maybe she just wanted to cause ruckus or maybe she just wanted to kiss Aemond— or even Aegon for that matter. But still you found yourself sitting in a circle with a bunch of slightly drunk teenagers. Your eyes flitted around observing them, a lovesick couple with their hands all over each other- yes indeed it was Cassandra Baratheon and her latest fling. Then a group of eager boys- Greyjoy, a cousin of Cerelle’s, and even that Redwyne playboy. Lastly came the Pretty Ones- Selene Tyrell and her Gardener sidekicks, Cerelle herself, Katerina Tully. But your eyes were solely on Aemond— still disinterested as ever, but no stranger to the interested gaze of the girls around him. You tugged at your tennis skirt, subtly shifting away from Redwyne’s lingering gaze.
“Alright!” Cerelled clapped her hands. “Of course Cassandra won't kiss you Greyjoy— not when she is busy with this boytoy of hers”. Greyjoy was crestfallen at that, “Right…anyways. Oi! Aemond it's your turn now” he nudged the boy next to him. Aemond would normally scoff at this kind of thing, claiming he was above it. But maybe it was the stolen bourbon humming in his veins—or maybe he just wanted to shut Cerelle up. Either way, he ground out his cigarette and spun the bottle, ignoring the lascivious wink she sent his way.
Much to everyone’s bemusement, and Cerelle’s thinly veiled irritation, the bottle landed on you. “I’m sorry- Her?” she scoffed. “But I suppose rules are rules.” Back then, you weren’t exactly a charmer. Smart? Sure. Sweet and Polite? Always. But you weren’t part of the high school elite—not really. Still, your family was flawless in the world of high society, a model of perfection with not a single scandal to their name. Maybe that’s why they let you orbit their little world.
Aemond didn't even offer you a hand to get up. He simply went inside the supply closet expecting you to follow him. Which you did. The moment the door was shut his hands gripped your waist pulling you flush against him. “You look pretty” his voice was low and quiet, not wanting to give away any hints of your conversation to the gossipers outside.
“Thank you”, a small smile on your face. He didn't need to know you had spent hours picking out what to wear. “I was hoping you’d like it”. He smirked knowing how you craved his validation. His fingers travelled lower, dipping into the band of your skirt. “Hmm, it does look good on you,” he said brushing his nose against yours. Your heart was hammering in your chest. The two of you had this game playing all this year. Stolen moments and kisses. And as much as you wanted to shout it out to the world, you were content with how things were. Or so you convinced your heart.
“Aem…” your voice trailed off hesitating, “....here?”
“Why not?”
“They are right outside-”
“I’ll make it quick.”
Quick. It was always quick. No lingering afterwards or acknowledging your presence in public. “Maybe we shouldn't” a weak whisper came from your side. His hands grabbed your hips tighter, a muscle ticked in his jaw “What do you mean?”
“I can't keep doing this.” You pushed him away slightly. “I can't keep being a secret.” “You like doing this-” The subtle anger in his voice was evident. “It's best if we forget about this.” And thankfully the time was up and you brushed past him to get out of the closet which suddenly felt too small and stuffy than it actually was.
That was the last summer before college started—the last summer of stolen kisses and unspoken rules. You tried to forget him. Almost. It had been two years since then, which brings us back to now. You spent your first two years of college in Sunspear, coming back home during odd times to mostly evade the social scene. But you did find yourself growing more confident, more sure of yourself. Open and bold. All in all you were thriving. And your social media followers were the first row audience to your life. Aemond didn't have a habit of lurking on the internet but he certainly did stalk you. But he didn't like it much watching you glow, knowing he had no claim to it.
The flashback dissolved, leaving Aemond staring at you, irritation flickering behind his cool expression. He didn’t like this—this new version of you. The one who wasn’t waiting for him, wasn’t chasing him. The one who, if anything, seemed to be enjoying making him chase you.
A slow smirk curled at the edge of his lips, masking whatever war was waging inside him. “You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
You took a leisurely sip of your drink, letting the silence stretch just long enough to be teasing. Then, an exaggerated shrug. “Immensely.”
Aemond hummed, tipping his head slightly. “Tell me something.” He leaned in, his fingers ghosting over your wrist, light but deliberate. “Do you flirt with everyone like this, or am I just lucky?” His voice was low, smooth like the whiskey he’d just swallowed, and it sent a slow curl of heat through you.
You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you tilted your head, tapping a manicured nail against the rim of your glass, letting him wait.
“Does it matter?”
Aemond exhaled sharply, something unreadable flickering in his gaze before he slid his car keys across the bar toward you. The unmistakable logo gleamed under the dim lights. You knew his mannerisms well enough. It was an invitation. Which he thought was to bait you in. But oh no, times have changed and so have the players. He was the prey now. “No,” he murmured, watching you carefully. “But I’d rather find out while you're behind the wheel.”
You let your fingers trail over the keys before plucking them up, twirling them once between your fingers, your lips curving into a slow, knowing smile.
“Well then,” you mused, slipping off the barstool with effortless grace, “try to keep up, Targaryen.”
And with that, you walked away, the keys jingling in your grasp—leaving Aemond watching, jaw tight, as you took control for once.
You didn't wait for him to match your pace. It felt like a complete reenactment of how you last left him—except now, it was deliberate. But before you could press the keys fob he snatched them from you. “I'm driving,” he sharply commented, unbuttoning his jacket. He had you in his territory now.
“You’re no fun!” you said playfully. “I don't let anyone drive Vhagar” he said, opening the door to the driver’s side. Still grumpy as ever, you thought and entered the passenger’s side. “What?” trying to hide the blooming chuckle. “You named your Porsche?”
“Yes. Have a problem with it?”
“Touchy about a car?”
Did you always get on his nerves? He thought. Maybe he did like you better when you were on your knees— He shook his head clearing his thoughts, loosening his tie and tossing the suit jacket over the seat.
“So where are we going?” you asked as he pulled out of the parking lot of the estate. “A drive” he hummed “Thought we could catch up”. Leaning your elbow against the window, you glanced out at the nightlights flashing by. "There isn’t much to catch up on," you admitted.
"I think there’s quite a bit, actually," he countered, pressing the gas a little harder as he merged onto the highway. The hum of the engine filled the space between you. Aemond’s grip on the wheel was firm, controlled, as he weaved through the sparse late-night traffic with practiced ease. He drove like he did everything else—deliberate, precise, just a little arrogant.
You smirked, tilting your head to look at him. “So, what exactly do you want to ‘catch up’ on?” Aemond didn’t look at you, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch, like he knew exactly what you were doing. “You tell me,” he said smoothly. “You’re the one who spent the last two years in Sunspear pretending the rest of us didn’t exist.”
“Not the rest of you,” you corrected. “Just you.” That got his attention. His fingers flexed briefly against the wheel. “And yet,” he mused, “you’re here. In my car. Taking my drinks. Wearing dresses that-” He stopped himself, jaw tightening.
You laughed, the sound light and airy. “That what?”
Aemond exhaled sharply through his nose. “That you know damn well aren’t fair.”
“Oh, poor thing.” You leaned back against the seat, stretching just enough to draw his eye. “Is Aemond Targaryen complaining that something isn’t fair?”
He turned onto a quieter road, the city lights dimming behind you. Then, suddenly, he reached over—one hand still on the wheel—and dragged his fingers up your thigh, slowly, just enough pressure to remind you who he was. “Careful,” he murmured, voice dipping lower. “You keep pushing, you might not like what happens next.”
Heat flickered in your stomach, but you only raised a brow, meeting his gaze with mock innocence. “Who said I wouldn’t like it?” Aemond exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. “Same old you.” “Same old me?” You tsked. “Now that’s just lazy, Aemond. I thought you paid more attention.”
His fingers trailed a little higher before he pulled back entirely, returning his grip to the wheel. “Oh, I pay attention.” He glanced at you then, something unreadable flickering in that sharp gaze. “That’s the problem.” You held his stare for a beat longer before turning back toward the window, a satisfied smile playing at your lips.
The car swerved slightly as Aemond jerked the wheel, and then—suddenly—he pulled off the road entirely, tires crunching over gravel as he brought the Porsche to a sharp stop. The engine hummed in the silence, low and steady, but Aemond’s breathing wasn’t.
He sat there for a moment, hands gripping the wheel, jaw tight, like he was trying to talk himself out of something. You turned to him, your voice sweet but laced with challenge. “Couldn’t handle the pressure, Targaryen?”
Aemond exhaled a slow, sharp breath through his nose. Then, without warning, he reached over, fingers curling around your throat—not squeezing, just holding. Just feeling.
Your breath caught. Not out of fear—never fear—but because of the way he did it, like he needed to remind himself that you were real, that this wasn’t some daydream he’d been indulging in since the moment you walked back into his life.
His thumb brushed the edge of your jaw, slow, deliberate. “You have no idea how much you test me.” You swallowed, pulse thrumming against his fingertips. “And here I thought you liked being tested.” Aemond let out a low, humorless chuckle, his grip tightening just a fraction before releasing you entirely. The absence of his touch was almost worse.
Almost.
Because before you could push him further, before you could tip your head and ask what he was waiting for, he was on you.
The seat belt snapped open with one sharp movement, and then his mouth was on yours, rough and demanding, no room for hesitation. The weight of two years apart, of stolen glances and half-meant goodbyes, came crashing down all at once.
He kissed like he fought—controlled, precise, but brimming with something just barely restrained. And you were more than happy to push him over the edge.
You tugged at his tie, loosening it further, fingers slipping under the collar of his shirt, nails dragging lightly over his skin. Aemond growled against your lips, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you onto his lap in a single, effortless motion.
The car was too small, the space too confined, but that only made it better—his hands gripping your thighs, your back pressed against the steering wheel, the feeling of leather and heat and Aemond, all around you.
You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, lips swollen, pupils blown wide. He looked up at you, one hand pushing your dress higher, the other sliding up the curve of your waist.
“Still want to pretend this is just a game?” he murmured, voice wrecked.
You smirked, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t know, Aemond.” You leaned in, brushing your lips against his, just barely. “Think you can handle losing?”
His grip on your hips tightened.
“Guess we’re about to find out.”
But before either of you could make the next move, his phone rang. Aemond cursed under his breath to see who called: of course who else, renowned troublemaker Aegon. “Make it quick,” Aemond’s voice sounded menacing as he answered his brother’s call. Aegon’s voice could be heard from the opposite end, slurred and absolutely out of it. “Need a ride to the apartment” Aegon groaned. “The chauffeur is a snitch who will tell everything about me to mother. Can't give her another reason to hate her eldest.”
As much as Aemond wanted to absolutely ravish you here and now, he knew leaving his brother to his own devices would give birth to another scandal. And his family has suffered enough because of Aegon and his shenanigans. “Where are you?” he sighed out. “The party, where else?” Aegon replied. “Stay in a quiet corner I’ll come fetch you in a while” with that Aemond hung up, a frustrated sigh left his lips as he ran his fingers through his already messy hair. “Guess this ends here today.”
You understood. “Drop me off at the party, it's alright.” It wasn't. But why did this seem like a big deal to you? He was supposed to be just a game, and yet the disappointment trickled into your belly. He gave a curt nod in reply and the drive back to the estate was silent.
Once you reached, the air inside the car was still charged…just a lot more tamed. Both of you remained silent not knowing what to say next. You reached for the handle to exit the car, his hand shot out grabbing your arm and stilling you in your place, “When can I see you again?” he was anxious, what if you slipped out of his fingers for years again? Oh he was left wanting. He craved you like a man parched.
The smirk that graced your face was enough to show who won this round. “We’ll see” with that you got out of his car and left him high and dry.
The night ended with you forcing yourself to not check your social for a notification from him. And he on the other hand was having trouble with getting the feeling of your lips, your touch, image of you in that dress, any memories of you, out of him. Was he stupid to not keep you for himself? If only he wasn't such an arse and treated you the way you deserved would things have been different today? All these unanswered questions laid heavily on his mind.
“I don't know Jayne,” you sighed, flopping down on your bed, “I don't feel like going today, maybe a cosy night is what I want tonight.” An amused scoff came from the other side of the call “Girl please! you saying no to clubbing? That’s like…unheard of. How about I pay for whatever you drink?” Now that piqued your interest. You loved free drinks. “My favourite tequila?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. “Deal.” Jayne said quickly. “Now hurry up! The club will close its doors soon!”
It had been exactly five days since that incident with Aemond in the car. Five days since you kissed him again. And as much as you hated to admit it, your mind kept going back to that moment his hand wrapped around your neck. You picked up your phone again. No text. No call. Not even a random notification—”Aemond Targaryen started following you”.
Fine. Let him be. You won't fret over him anymore like you used to. That was the promise you made to yourself. You had better things to do anyways, like getting drunk in one of your hottest outfits and dancing the night away.
Jayne pulled up in a short while, barely waiting a second before honking. You grabbed your clutch, giving yourself a quick glance over in the mirror: Glossy lips, low cut top and a tight leather skirt. You felt desirable. Confident. Quickly putting your heels on, you stepped out into the night, the crisp air doing nothing to cool the heat simmering beneath your skin.
The second you slid into the passenger seat, Jayne let out a low whistle. “Damn. Someone’s out for blood tonight.” You grinned mischievously, adjusting the hem of your skirt. “Just making sure I get my drinks' worth.” Jayne shot you a knowing look. “Right. And this has absolutely nothing to do with a certain Targaryen who’s been haunting your thoughts for the past five days?”
The irritation at his name nearly made it out but you refused to give her the satisfaction. Instead, you leaned back, stretching your legs out. “Please. I barely remember his name.” Jayne snorted, clearly unconvinced, but she let it slide, turning the music up as she pulled onto the road.
The club was already packed when you arrived, neon lights cutting through the dark, the bass vibrating beneath your heels. A familiar scene. Predictable. Easy.
Or at least, it should have been.
You had barely downed your first tequila when you felt it—an unease creeping up your spine, a prickle at the nape of your neck. The kind of feeling you got when someone was watching you.
You turned, and there he was.
Aemond.
Leaning against the railing of the VIP section, fingers wrapped around a crystal tumbler. His gaze was steady, unreadable, the neon glow flickering across his features.
Something hot and reckless surged through you.
He hadn’t called. Hadn’t texted. Hadn’t even bothered with you. And yet—here he was. Watching.
Fine.
If he wanted to play his games, you’d show him you had your own.
You turned back to Jayne, arching a brow. “Find me the best-looking guy in here.” She grinned like the devil herself. “Now you’re speaking my language.” And just like that, you let the music take you, let the night swallow you whole. Let Aemond watch, if that’s what he wanted. You weren’t going to stop.
A handsome face. A charming grin. The guy was one of those typical ones who thought they wielded power like those birds flaunting themselves during a mating ritual you see on national geographic. Just as you calculated, it didn't take much for the guard dog to come scare him off. The moment Aemond saw you giggle and play with the guy’s hair was enough to make him want to practically run down the stairs to come and haul you up on his shoulders. But it got worse when he saw how you moved your neck sideways, accommodating the guy, inviting him in, and the way your eyes closed when that damned fool kissed down your jaw.
“Get away from her”. Your eyes were still closed when you heard it. Barely constrained anger, you knew who it was, no need to open your eyes. “Dude?! Got a problem” the guy was definitely irritated at being interrupted. But what you didn't expect next was the sight of Aemond’s fist colliding with his jaw and pulling him off you. Your eyes opened with a start, a gasp, hands flying to your mouth. You were just about to check on the poor soul when a hand snatched your wrist and dragged you out of the crowd of whispering judgemental gazes.
“What the hell are you doing!” you finally came to senses once you reached the parking lot. Snatching your wrist back from him and rubbing the red area softly. Aemond had enough. He was about to burst and it looked gnarly. “What am I doing?” His laugh was full of bitterness. “What are you?! Flaunting yourself out there like some-”
“What is it to you!” you shouted. “Why does it bother you who I fuck!”
“BECAUSE YOU’RE MINE!” the volcano finally erupts. His chest is heaving. His eyes are entirely dark. His hand keeps clenching beside him, trying to retain some sort of composure. “You’ve always been mine.” He stalked forward until he had you caged against his car. “You’re breaking me, dove” his voice was all ragged. Dove, he called you. Like he used to back when you had your trysts. A trembling hand cupped your face. His thumb brushes softly against the apple of your cheek. “Stop playing these games. Please.”
If the younger you was ever told that one day she would have the Aemond Targaryen begging for her, she would have laughed at the joke. But not now. You had him right where you wanted. Desperate and aching for you. Your lips parted in surprise at the way he begged. The cool of the metal door digging into your back, his touch on your cheek burning an imprint onto your skin.
Aemond’s other hand came to wrap around your waist. Still panting, trying to forget some other man’s lips on your neck. “Dove” he breathed out. “You’re driving me crazy.” his eye bore into yours. A longing. As if he had yearned for years. Your throat felt dry and you swallowed before saying. “Then do something about it.”
The silence was palpable. It stretched on, waiting for someone to break the tension first. Aemond dived in, one hand on your waist and the other grabbing the back of your head pulling you against him with a raw primal need. His fingers clutched your hair tight tethering you to him. A kiss so hungry, desperate in its intensity as he claimed your soft lips with his own. No doubt the gloss went everywhere but you could care less.
Your hands flew around his neck to anchor yourself as you kissed back eagerly, whimpering against his mouth. One of your hands tugged at his silver locks lightly, arching your back, trying to mould yourself into him. The kiss was everything. It consumed your very being. The hard insistent member against your thigh made you even needier. A thrill of anticipation, of finally getting what you wanted, of being devoured by the monster you created, raced down your spine.
“Your place or mine?” you asked, looking up at him trying to collect your breathing once you both broke apart. Mussed up hair, heaving chest, lips swollen red from being bitten, a string of saliva still connecting you still, and you never looked more beautiful to Aemond. The hunger behind his eye made your heart race. “Get in the car” his voice a low growl as he opened the passenger door for you, ever so chivalrous.
Thank god for tinted windows because you were not prepared about what was to come and if some poor soul had seen the way Aemond all but pounced on you like some predator they would have called emergency services. His hand immediately pulled down the lever as he pulled you down on his lap. The seat reclined to give ample space for you to sit on his thighs with your back straining against the steering wheel.
He bounces his thigh once making you shift closer to his bulge. His hands already finding their place under your skirt. His fingers brush against your damp lace panties. “I only just kissed you sweetheart. So wet for me already?” he murmured with a lazy grin as he looked up at you. “Please” a breathless whisper as your palms laid flat against his stomach, feeling the hard abs underneath. “Please what baby? Use your words.” A faux tenderness to his voice when you knew just how cruel he was about to be.
“Please I need you” you begged again, already feeling your chest tighten and breathing becoming laboured. You were feeling way too many things yet not enough. His fingers moved your underwear to the side, a single finger collecting your arousal was enough to make you shudder. “Need me where sweetheart?” He asked, loving the effect he had on you, “Here?” He continued, now rubbing his digit up and down your clit maddeningly slow, enough to make you cry out in frustration. “Does my pretty girl need me to finger her dripping cunny in the parking lot?” You could only nod, hands fisting at his shirt. “Yeah?” Aemond urged, so patronizing, slipping in two of his veiny fingers at once while his thumb rubs your clit. “Need your Aem to make you cum don't you dove?”
He was finally giving you what you wanted. His fingers driving in and out of you at a pace that finally eased your frustration. “Come now. Give your Aem a kiss, pretty baby. And I promise you I will make you cum as many times as you want” a tantalising whisper as he leaned up from the seat.
You complied without a second thought, leaning down to capture his lips like a woman gone mad. You kissed him with your hands on his shoulder as you rode his fingers. His fingers went faster, pistoning in and out of you at a wild speed as his tongue delved into your mouth to taste the alcohol lingering on yours. A moan escaped your mouth as you pulled him even closer, as if that was possible.
You ground down your hips as the wave of pleasure built. “Fuck” you whimpered, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. “Please dont stop” your hips went out of control as if they had a mind of their own, only chasing the orgasm. “Look at me,” his voice commanded. “Look at me when I make you cum, pretty girl.”
Your eyes snapped open, vision getting blurry from being at the precipice of shattering. “Aem please” you moaned looking at him all doe eyed. “Go on.” he murmured “Soak my fingers.”
And your vision went white. The dam broke loose as you orgasmed, wetness dripping down his fingers and your thighs. Hell, even his trousers had a wet spot on them. “Fuck!” Aemond groaned watching you convulse around his fingers. Your nails digging into his shoulder through the material of his shirt. “That's it sweetheart”, his fingers didn't stop their pace, drawing out your pleasure. “Such a good girl for me. Cumming all over me.”
Aemond’s fingers gradually slowed as you came down from your high. You panted, vision clearing up but a lone tear slipped down your cheek. “You did so good baby” he cooed “Can you give me another one? Yes you can.” He patted your hip, signalling you to raise slightly.
He unzipped his trousers enough to slip his boxers down and free his throbbing member. The tip was already swollen red, slick with precum. It was long and pale just like the rest of him and had a decent girth to it. It slapped against his belly when he freed it. He harshly tugged at your panties, ripping it like it was nothing. Wrapping his hand around his cock he nudged your folds with the tip. Mixing your arousal with his. You whined still overstimulated from your orgasm- Your stomach clenching. “Aem please”
“Shh, you can take it. You will.” Aemond encouraged you, firstly pushing just the tip inside. That was enough to make all your neediness return. Another moan as you sank down onto his length slowly. “So- full- ah!”
His hands came to grab onto your hips, moving you up and down. “You sound so sweet. Might just make you my ringtone.” He groaned as the sounds of wetness and skin slapping against skin filled the car. “Fucking hell I missed this cunt” he breathed out, all strained. “Missed you much more baby” he whispered, bringing you down to his face by your neck as his other hand still guided your movements. His eye never left yours as he said “Never letting you go again. This cunt belongs to me. My pretty baby. My dove. All mine.” His lips met yours again but this time around there was an underlying tenderness to it. “I was a fool. An arse.” he cupped your cheek as you whimpered, feeling yourself be brought to another orgasm. “But it's okay, I'll make it all better this time ‘round.” he said with a hint of softness.
“Let go now” he ordered “Squeeze me tight and give yourself- fuck yes! Give it to me dove!” he roared, feeling your walls clamp down on him. With one final bounce you wrapped your arms around him, screaming as it crashed over you, even more intense than the previous one. “Aem! Aem- Fuck- Aemmy-”. You were still in the midst of your throes of passion when Aemond had to wrench you away from him, his thumb rubbing at your clit still for you to continue your orgasm as his other hand moved frantically over his cock. With a moan of your name he spilled all over your mound painting your ruined panties white with his release.
It took quite a few minutes for you both to come down from that high. Eyes on each other, not able to remove them. “That was my favourite pair you know” you said while still trying to calm down.
“I’ll take you shopping tomorrow,” he replied.
“A date?”
“It's been a long overdue. I’ll pick you up at 10 tomorrow morning. Wear that summer dress you wore to the derby” his finger lazily drew circles on your hips. “Come now. I’ll drop you off at your place, you always get sleepy when I go hard on you.”
You blushed at his words “I do not-” but he only chuckled. You went back to your seat making yourself presentable as he started the car after a deep sigh. True to Aemond’s words you fell asleep in the drive back and Aemond couldn't help but smile when he looked at you.
He didn't want to wake you yet when he pulled into the driveway. Silently admiring you while you slept. His hand came to brush a few stray strands away from your face, “Wake up sleeping beauty we reached your apartment”.
With a groan you woke up, slightly disoriented at first, but then blinking into awareness. A minute to collect your things, but truth be told you didn't want to get out of the car yet. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” your voice hopeful when you turned to Aemond but he was already looking at you with that tenderness. “Yes you will dove.” “Good” a small smile on your lips as you turned to get out of the car.
Aemond watched as you opened the door and had only taken a few steps in the direction of your lobby when you heard it- “Wait!” Aemond got out of the car in a hurry. “You forgot something” You looked down confused, your purse had everything, “What?” you asked.
He pulls you in with an arm around your waist and the other finding home on your cheek. “This” he whispers before kissing you all soft and sweet. The kind which princes give princesses in fairy tales. You couldn't help but giggle as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer. And he couldn't help but smile against your lips, still the same dove who giggled at his kisses and sweet nothings.
And when later you entered your flat after the whirlwind of an evening, your phone buzzed: “Aemon Targaryen started following you”.
end note: would love your feedback on this!! please feel free to like, share and reblog and fill the comment section with yput response and my askbox is always open for requests and texts. will be very happy to make friends!!!
