writing lines that should be illegal

Targaryen Titillations

-Aemond's Acolytes-

👁️ His Dripping Gem Aemond x reader • Intense & Exposed Aemond’s gaze and tongue both devour you—and the mess he left inside.

🤰 Dynasty Doubler King!Aemond x Wife!reader AU Aemond declares his dedication to making heirs.

-Targaryen Pleasure House-

⚔️ An Heir Affair Aemond x wife!reader x King!Aegon King Aegon turns your marriage to Aemond into a game. Every question is bait. Every taunt dares his brother to snap. Aemond refuses to lose. In this war of wills between brothers, you’re not the prize—you’re the battlefield.

🍓 Aegon's Appetite Aegon II x f!reader Aegon is hungry. You are his favorite meal.

🐉 How to Train Your Dragon Rider Your fave Targ prince x reader He teaches you how to mount a "dragon." Aka him.

🐲 Poised Predator Aerion x reader • Hypnotic & Unyielding Aerion empties your thoughts until only he remains.

ACoTaR

-The Court of Eris Vanserra-

🗣️ A Most (Re)Productive Meeting Eris x Rhys x f!reader • Unhinged Lines Eris hasn’t gotten you pregnant yet. Rhys reviews his technique. In person.

📿 Object(s) of My Desire Eris x reader Eris crafts you magical accessories. They get increasingly naughtier.

🔥 Too Much Fire, Too Little Morals Eris x f!reader & Lucien x f!reader Does it really matter which Vanserra puts heirs in you?

🍁 Playing with Fire — Predatory Patience Eris x f!reader • Experimental • Romantic Find out how a future High Lord plays.

-Azriel's Dungeon-

🔷 Don't. Move. Azriel x f!reader • Feral & Forbidden You break one command—and Azriel's control with it.

🔎 Intelligence Leak Azris • Torturous & Teasing Azriel's just doing his job—isn't he? 👀

-The Poly Palace-

🌤️ Let the Sunshine In Helion x Rhys x Feyre Rhysand arrives stormy. Helion sends him home glowing—with something for Feyre to discover later.

Fourth Wing

-Xaden's Riders-

🍽️ Second Course Xaden x Violet A boring banquet. One chair. No panties. What could possibly go wrong?

-Pleasure Squad-

⚡ Ridoc's Motor Mouth — TBA Xaden x Vi x Ridoc • Funny & Spicy Ridoc's mouth is finally put to good use.

🔗 AO3

Your husband cups your shoulder before addressing his brother. “We lie together often, Your Grace. A babe with the blood of the dragon won’t come a moment before it’s ready.”

The King guzzles his beverage. “You forget, brother, that we’re the blood of the dragon. If you’re really as devoted to babymaking as you claim, your spark should catch quickly. How long has it been? Four months? A season’s come and gone, and still she’s empty.” Metal clangs as his drained cup lands on the swords behind him.

Prince Aemond stares, danger thick in the air. “My bride’s body is perfect. I’ll not have you imply otherwise.”

“It’s not her I take issue with.” He swivels in his seat, boots finally meeting stone. Firelight dances off the crown atop his head. “My firstborn was sired in a week. Do you seriously expect me to believe you’re filling her womb properly?”

“I fill her plenty.” He’s totally still, save the fingertips tapping your shoulder. “What will it take for you to believe me?”

Aegon sighs dramatically. “Without witnessing the act myself, nothing short of a silver-haired babe from your wife’s cunt. Honestly… does it really matter which Targaryen puts heirs in her?” His gestures grow more animated. “Perhaps I’ll lend you my aid. I have no trouble keeping my wife stuffed full. No one would even know the difference. What’s bending a few rules when the Targaryen dynasty is at stake?”

Aemond leans into your space, lips brushing your ear. “Is my seed still where I left it inside you this morning?”

Heat pricks awake behind your navel. You nod. 

“Mm.” His fingers press into your arm. Warm breath wafts over your neck. “He’ll barely remember this tomorrow, but enough to get off our backs.” 

Electricity skitters from your gut to your groin like fingernails skimming skin.

“Come, wife. The King needs to see proof of consummation with his own eyes.” His hand trails down your spine, pressing at the base.

The steady weight at your back guides you up the dais steps until you’re close enough to touch the King.

“How quickly he works, now that he has the proper motivation!” Aegon mocks.

Aemond spins you around. Your stomach flutters with your back to Aegon. Are his eyes roving over every curve tucked under my skirts?

“Bow for your King. All the way, ābrazȳrys. Hands and knees.” Aemond’s voice is soft but firm. He helps you lower onto the cool stone. “Good girl.”

Palms planted two steps lower than your knees, your backside is angled upwards, presented to the Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. 

Towering beside you, Aemond unfastens his sword holster. The heavy weapon clanks onto the melted swords at his feet. “Raise your skirts to your waist. Knees wide. Show the King your cunt.” A pause. “Don’t worry, he’ll love it.”

Aegon claps. “Oh, I do enjoy a good show.” 

Your skirts tremble as you move them. Aemond kneels behind you, smoothing them in long, slow strokes up your ass.

Cool air sweeps your exposed folds. Your heart hammers against your ribs.

A low whistle from the throne. “So much to admire. I’ll never tire of looking upon bare cunts. Especially royal ones.”

You survey the bare throne room as the one on the throne surveys you.

“You can look your fill after what comes next.” Aemond grasps your thighs. “I need to open you up a bit, love.”

Warm kisses blot your vulva. Gentle brushing on your bud. Your pulse skyrockets.

Broad, wet swipes along your slit. 

Swipe… swipe… swipe… 

Your clit swirled in rhythm. A hot tongue spiraling into your opening—teasing, stretching, coaxing.

Your breaths come heavier, blood racing to meet Aemond’s lips.

Hungry noises slip out of the mouth sampling you.

“As arousing as this is, I’m not sure what you’re hoping to prove with this little stunt. It takes more than a tongue to get a woman pregnant.”

Aegon is watching Aemond eat me out from behind! And, Seven Hells, he likes it—

“A tongue is how it starts, brother,” Aemond purrs.

Oh fuck— 

All thoughts melt away when his lips latch onto your swollen bundle of nerves. A moan stretches out of you. 

Aemond’s feasting turns feral. Deep suction on your pulsing nub. Nose grinding into your entrance. Vibrations groaned into your core.

Fire simmers your marrow—bubbling, sizzling. 

You’re speared open on a writhing slickness, driving inside.

Twin moans echo through the hall.

You’re impaled again—bigger, firmer, farther. 

Long fingers pumping… delving deep… curving… 

Leaving…

Your prince’s breaths come quickly. “This is from the load I gave her this morning.”

Aegon scoffs. “And what, exactly, am I looking at? That bit of creamy fluid proves nothing. There’s no way for me to know it came from you. For all I know, that could be her own arousal.”

Aemond growls. 

When you glance back at him, his face gleams in the torchlight with your combined slick. Chin to nose. Cheek to cheek. You yearn to lick it off his perfect jaw.

It ticks once. “Fine. Have your proof.”

Aemond holds your gaze captive in his, indulgently sucking his fingers clean, groaning deeply. “Tasting our flavors mingled inside you drives me to madness.”

Deft fingers rip at the laces of his trousers. His thick shaft springs free, tip flushed and weeping.

“Let’s show the King how well your pussy knows the shape of my cock.”

He grabs it firmly at the base and guides it to your throbbing entrance. Gripping one hip, Aemond grunts as his flushed skin meets your wet folds. He brushes himself up and down your wetness until he’s sopping. 

Your pussy clenches around air—insistent, desperate for more.

You and the King wait on the edge of a knife, but Aemond does not cede. Your prince sweeps the head of his cock back and forth against your clit. Seconds drag into long minutes as he leisurely rubs his hard length along your groove.

“Please let me have it—,” you pant, focus narrowed to the friction he suspends you in.

“Have what, jorrāelagon?” He drawls. “Princesses must be specific with their words.”

“Please give me your cock,” you whimper.

His voice lilts, taunting you. “But you already have it. Is that not my cock grinding against your lips as we speak?”

You whine, “I need your cock inside me, Aemond.”

He alters his angle, rubbing his slick length between your ass cheeks, head prodding your puckered hole.

You gasp, ass clenching. Your cunt throbs with need.

Your desperation pours out. “Please put your cock in my pussy! Breed me! My cunt needs your cock, Aemond. Please—I’ve been empty for hours. All I want is your cock where it belongs.” 

“Mmm.” Hungry. Pleased.

His next drag tilts suddenly, head catching in your opening. Every nerve lights up at the delicious stretch.

Aemond groans, long and deep. “Does this look like the wrong hole?” 

How does just the head feel so intense?

Cock barely breaching, he doesn’t move a muscle.

As quickly as it spiked, the shock of his entry starts to fade, bleeding into raw hunger.

This King’s voice announces his rapt enthusiasm. “No—that’s the right one. What are you waiting for? Thrust it deeper.”

“Are you always so hasty?” Aemond asks, tutting.

You swivel your hips—a silent plea for more sensation.

His shaft retreats just to sink back into you, pressing a little deeper. Each unhurried thrust drives farther into your channel, like he’s exploring each inch of your inner walls one at a time before claiming all of you.

When you’re finally full, he pauses. Every nerve ending is glued to the way you’re completely stretched open on his firm thickness. Just to feel how deep that hardness goes, you squeeze. 

Stars dot your vision.

Aemond hisses, then moans. “A perfect fit,” he grits out, “like a glove expertly tailored for me.”

Then your stomach drops.

He moves like a dragon’s tail during flight: smooth, precise, and completely sure of the path. The weight of his cock grinds against your slippery insides with every slow, confident pump.

Pleasure clouds the edges of your mind.

Aemond huffs. Voice smug, he says, “You never could resist a wet pussy, could you?”

Looking back, you find Aegon fixated on where you and Aemond are joined, one hand lazily jerking his rigid cock. 

Lightning zips down your spine, striking your stuffed cunt. Your teeth dent your lip as you stare at the effect you and Aemond have on the King. 

Aegon catches you staring at the swollen meat in his fist. His mouth slants. “Like what you see, Princess?” He keeps stroking. You keep watching. “How are you so soaked?”

Your pussy seems to gush louder around Aemond’s pumping shaft.

“My husband’s seed keeps me wet for hours. Plus, I love Aemond’s—,” you cut yourself off, turning away.

“Nuh uh uh,” he chastises, “out with it. Don’t be shy. Your King needs the truth.”

You chew your cheek, looking over your shoulder. “I love Aemond’s cock.”

Aegon grins. “There’s a good girl. And how often does he put it in you?”

Your eyes dart to Aemond’s face. A cocky smirk perches on his lips. He snaps his hips harder, as if to remind you.

Your toes curl. As if I need reminding. 

Gods, that morning wood. Harder than sapphire. Every. Fucking. Dawn.

“Every morning and most nights, Your Grace.”

Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. “And which hole does he use?”

Heat races up your neck as memories pour in from every angle. “…Whichever he pleases.”

Aegon groans, hand pistoning faster. “And do you like that?”

Your eyes flit to your husband’s.

Candlelight and lightning casting obscene shadows of our tangled bodies… My hands clawing into his hair as he rocks into me in the place I thought I’d never enjoy... Screaming so hard Ser Criston thinks something’s amiss... Dozing off curled against Aemond’s solid chest in the bath afterward…

“Yes. Very much. He can have me any way he likes.”

“Mnh.” A savage thrust.

Aemond likes my answer.

“Fuck,” Aegon whines, jealousy pinching his face as he glances at his brother. “How often does he cum inside your pussy?”

The slow, relentless push and pull of Aemond’s shaft makes keeping your mind focused on Aegon’s questions a struggle. “Most days. Sometimes multiple times.”

His demeanor sharpens. “Are you lying to your King?”

Your reply is instant. “No! I had to acquire more smallclothes after our wedding because they get drenched so often.”

Aemond sighs. “If I’d known this demonstration was going to turn into an interrogation of my wife—”

“So maybe it isn’t an issue of filling her,” Aegon interrupts. “Maybe your cock is broken. I bet she just needs some real Targaryen fire.”

Aemond’s hands press harder into your hips, dragging you back onto his driving shaft. “Keep your dirty cock away from my wife’s perfect pussy,” his voice cuts like a blade, “I’m more than capable of fathering an heir.”

“Hmph. Fine, I’ll take pity on you.” You look back in time to see him cup his balls with his free hand. “You have two months to successfully breed her before the crown intervenes.”

Are they really arguing during sex? Targaryens are truly of different stock…

“I’ll make sure that’s not necessary. I’ll redouble my efforts. Three breeding sessions a day. And every drop of my cum will spill into her cunt.”

Your insides clench at the implications of your husband’s sex plan. His cock feeding your pussy three square meals a day… 

I’ll gladly get skewered morning, noon, and night.

“Fantastic. And when that doesn’t work, I’ll put my cock to work. Maybe I’ll make you thank me on your knees for providing you with an heir.” Footsteps sound, then a hand grips your jaw, tilting upwards. 

Aegon’s cock is within licking distance. You barely pry your eyes off of it to meet the King’s gaze. “Tell me, sweet girl. How would you feel about a prince and a King fucking you at the same time?”

Aemond’s grip tightens, crushing into muscle.

Flame erupts under your skin, burning away every inhibition. 

Take me straight to the Seventh Hell.

“I’d be honored to receive two Targaryen cocks at once, Your Grace.” Saliva pools on your tongue.

“Such polite words for such depraved behavior…” He smirks. “Open your mouth. Your throat can have a preview of what your cunt will feel when I need to breed you.”

Your lips part, tongue darting out to meet the tip already moving towards you. You lick and swirl. King Aegon tastes like salt and sin.

“Show me how you suck my brother off.”

He only allows a few exploratory licks before he’s pushing his shaft past your lips—insistent. “Aemond, don’t take your eyes off my cock. Your King commands it.”

Aegon quickly fills your mouth, tip meeting resistance when it nudges your tonsils. He thrusts a few times, hard length gliding against your tongue. 

You open for him, allowing him deeper access.

Aegon moans, long and loud. “Good girl. What an eager little mouth.” 

Thrust, thrust, thrust. “Brother, why have you never mentioned how good a cocksucker your wife is? Now I don’t have to wonder why you want fuck these sweet little holes every day. I can feel exactly what you feel.”

Aemond wraps his hands around your ass cheeks and squeezes. “Yes, she’s simply divine. As her husband, I get to experience all of her every single day. You wouldn’t believe how eager she is to see me each morning.”

They’re playing tug-of-war, and your body is the rope. With every push and pull of their cocks and each volley of words, the coil deep in your gut winds tighter. 

“Your mouth feels so good puckered around my cock, darling. The way your lips… your cheeks… your tongue… all slide against my shaft. Truly a hole made to be fucked by royalty.” Aegon engulfs both cheeks in his palms. “What a minx. A prince AND a King. By the Gods—who’s next?!”

Aemond chuckles darkly. “If you think this is peak pleasure, you’d be dumbfounded by the end of a lazy afternoon with her.”

Aegon pauses with the tip of his dick resting on your lower lip. “Here—wear my crown while I fuck your mouth. We can all pretend you’re my Queen today.” He places it on your head. Its weight settles into your hair. “Look at you. You have the King’s crown on your head, the King’s cock in your mouth… Next you’ll have the King’s bastard in your womb.” He grins wide, full teeth. “But for now, I’ll breed this tight little throat.”

His quick, chaotic pace wrestles with Aemond’s aching, inevitable grind. Your hips yanked in one direction, your shoulders jerked in another. Competing rhythms collide in your navel.

Prince Aemond’s voice is dangerously quiet, like the slice of a knife in the night. “There are other ways for her to become Queen.”

Aegon barks a laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Tell me, little brother, did you grow hot with jealousy when your wife agreed to take my cock so quickly?”

Your thigh muscles tense, every cell learning what it means to blaze. Aegon burns loud and fast, but Aemond smolders deep and slow. Both paths lead to incineration.

“On the contrary. My cock swelled larger with pride at her courtly intelligence. She knows better than to refuse a King.”

Aegon’s rhythm stutters. He pulls out with a pop. Saliva strings from your lips to his engorged arousal.

“So the monster calls me monstrous.” He throws his head back and cackles. Then he’s gripping your hair firmly by the root. “Tell me. Does my violent little brother ever get rough with you, dear? Ever fuck your face until you cry? Ram his cock so far down your throat your nose presses into his flat abs?”

Your husband chuckles under his breath, muttering, “ñuha sȳz riña.” He ratchets up his rhythm. 

“I—,” windpipe sore, shame clawing at your chest, you struggle to form words.

“Speak up, Princess,” Aegon says, “or has my dick stunned you into silence?”

You swallow. “I ask him to.”

His eyebrows shoot up, head whipping to his brother. “Wow—where did you find her? A lady who wants to play with villains…” He kneels suddenly, eyes at your level. “And do you wish to play like that with me? I ask not as King Aegon, but Aegon the man.”

“Yes. Please.”

He’s up in a flash, thumb pressing your lips apart. His thumb and shaft shove into your mouth at once, every movement rougher than before. He plunges deep with hard, wild strokes.

Aemond reaches around to toy with your clit, nimble fingers circling their target. It electrifies every internal graze of hard cock on soft tissue, connecting your holes with a live wire zinging down your spine.

Aegon stuffs his fat length ferociously down your throat. Every feral thrust jostles you from sinuses to tits. Your eyes prick with wetness.

“I love to watch gorgeous eyes shine with tears over my dick. Love when it’s totally hidden from view—because it’s stuffed inside a beautiful woman. Love when my cock controls when she’ll take her next breath.”

Your oral passage surrenders, obscene noises emanating from where he impales you. “That’s it, choke on your brother-in-law’s cock. Gag on the king. Want you spasming around my cock before I let you taste the air again.”

You feel your heartbeat drumming in your pussy, contracting around Aemond while you twitch around his brother.

Desire fogs your brain—thoughts sluggish, body taking over.

The King barely gives you a second to breathe before he’s spearing you again, spreading his fingers into a necklace around your throat—not hurting, just holding. “Want to feel my cock prodding my palm through your neck.”

Your pussy, your throat, your clit—they throb in tandem. Every sensation blurs into one—a molten, boiling volcano threatening to spill over.

“See, I can’t even tell if you’re sobbing or moaning with your mouth all full of the King’s cock. But I don’t care either way. It feels fucking fantastic.”

Liquid streams down your cheeks and your thighs.

“Watch your wife blow me, Aemond. Watch the way my cock disappears behind her lips. Watch me fuck the throat you thought was yours.”

His fingers whirl faster around your clit. “I’ve been watching. Excuse my boredom, Your Grace. Your technique lacks variety.”

“It is not my technique that matters, but hers. Take notes in case you need to thank my cock for giving you an heir.” The King leans in towards his brother. “You’ll have a front row seat when I breed your wife. When I claim her cunt. Enjoy your sole possession of that hole while it lasts. Won’t be long before I own that one, too.”

Heat shoots through every vein—two dragons burning themselves up inside you to see which one can survive the fire.

Sweat dampens the small of your back.

Aemond slowly drags his hand from your nape to your tailbone. “You think yourself clever, but you’ll never experience all the pleasures of her body like I do. You’ve not the patience for it. Gratification is sweeter the longer you anticipate its arrival.”

Aegon pumps into you faster. “Her body’s not the only pleasure I want. Once I’ve dumped my cum inside her, you’ll lick me clean to show your gratitude. You’ll suck your wife’s juices off my softening cock.”

“That won’t be necessary. Perhaps I’ll sire an heir into her womb right here in the throne room.” He drives his throbbing shaft into you harder until his thighs clap your ass with each jerk of his hips.

King Aegon raises his voice to speak over the noise, steamrolling right over his brother. “Then, I’ll jerk my cock off in your mouth while my seed is taking root in your wife’s womb. Perhaps if you’re a good boy, I’ll shoot my second load down your throat.”

The weight of Aemond’s body shifts forward, hovering over your back. His voice is close behind you. “If you want my mouth on you so badly, you could just ask. No need to invent elaborate ruses.” 

His new angle rubs that perfect spot inside you. Aemond’s targeting your clit from both sides. 

Heat and friction melt everything else. Brain silent, body roaring. 

You’re suspended—your whole world teetering on their pounding cocks. 

“It’s not your mouth I yearn for, baby brother—it’s your discomfort. I want to see the ire in your eye as you realize I’m King, you’re not, and you must serve me. Even against your will.” His fingers thread into your hair, hooking deep.

“Is this your attempt at enraging me?” As cool and smooth as ice.

The King’s cackle erupts out of him. “Careful, brother. Or I might proclaim you the Royal Cocksucker so you’ll spend your days on your knees with my cock in your mouth.” 

Aemond squeezes your hip twice in quick succession. “It’s best to tune him out when he gets like this, ñuha jorrāelagon,” he murmurs, “he must have fallen into his cups. You’re probably the only reason he can even keep it up.”

Aegon jams himself into you more quickly with every thought he utters. “—spend your days on a cushion under the small council table at my feet. I’ll announce your title to the city and hold a public demonstration in the throne room so the people might see your position. Perhaps I’ll persuade a Dornish nobleman to make a favorable agreement once he’s been softened by your throat.”

“Are you finished?”

He throws his head back, shouting to the ceiling, “You’ll be the crown’s prized whore.” His gaze snaps to his brother, leaning into his space. “What price do you think a prince’s mouth fetches?” Aegon’s eyes are wide—crazed. “What about one as pretty as you?” He stretches out his arm and cups Aemond’s jaw. “Probably not as much as your virgin asshole.”

“Mittys. Go ahead and get off on what you think is power.” Aemond snatches Aegon’s wrist. “But you should know—I love to take it up the ass.”

Your core pulls tighter—a drawn bowstring primed to strike.

Aemond peering up at me, face relaxed in full trust, eyes half-lidded with lust… Firelight gleaming off the glass dildo as I slide it in and out of his puckered hole… Silver hair swaying, rock-hard cock bouncing as he whimpers, “More”... His teeth indenting my skin as convulsions shudder through his frame… Petting his hair with his head in my lap…

You moan into the thick pillar of flesh wedged down your throat. 

Aegon’s thrusts turn jagged—chaotic. Breathless, “Sounds like Aemond will be depriving this sweet mouth its share of cum. I’ll fill it up instead.”

Your heart is kicking. Pores leaking. Calves twitching. 

“Face against my stomach,” he grits out, cock pressing down, down down—until your nose flattens. “Swallow it all. The next time, it will be your womb that swallows.”

Hot cum strikes your tonsils.

Your arms shake.

The King’s moan reverberates through the throne room.

Aemond’s hand and cock beat together. He plays a song—your body his instrument. Snares you in his rhythm.

Flames spout from your center, scorching flesh, blood, and bone.

Thighs whip against your ass. Cum slides down your throat. Your clit pulsates.

Cocks plunge into your holes.

Every muscle siezes.

Time drags.

No thoughts.

Just skin.

Dragon-hot.

In.

Out. 

In.

Out.

“Breed her full while you have the chance.”

In.

Out.

“Let the King see who you cum for. Show him our daily routine. Prove you can milk every drop out of my cock.”

You shatter.

Your pussy clamps on his shaft.

Every nerve combusts.

The second cock jerks.

Hot cum floods.

Aemond’s groan is dragged out of his soul. “Ñuhyz jaehossa!”

Your hearing dims.

Cocks lurching.

Cunt gulping.

You flutter.

They twitch.

Floating.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Heavy breaths.

A kiss on your spine.

The mouth cock retreats.

Your husband’s voice. “Let our consummation never again be in doubt.”

Footsteps. “Pull out so I can inspect your work.”

He slowly slides out. You groan together.

“Spread her cheeks apart so I can see clearly.”

Aemond’s warm hands gently part your curves. Totally exposed.

“Now there’s a hole fit for a King.” A pleased sound. “Engorged. Drenched. But where’s the cum?”

FUCK!

Fingers cinch your clit. Your fried nerves scream. You shriek.

“So responsive to my touch…” He taunts. “Everything back here just clenched.”

He hums a tune, as if bored with waiting. “Ah. There’s what I’m looking for. Aemond’s cum dripping out of this sensitive little hole.”

Your prince's voice is flat. “There’s your proof.”

“You know, brother, it looks exactly like what you showed me earlier. Pity I didn’t believe you.”

“Qubroti jās. We’re finished here.”

“Oh no, we’re not.” Aegon drags his fingers through your swollen, aching folds. “Can’t have any of it escaping, can we?”

You gasp as his digits sink deep into your raw pussy. He pulls them back just to shove them back inside. He plunges them in and out. “Get a load of that! You could hear this sloppy cunt from the dragonpit.”

You squeal.

Aemond’s voice cuts. “You’ve had your fun, Aegon. That’s enough.”

“She just took two cocks at once, she can handle a couple fingers fucking the cum back into her.” He drives them faster. “Really, I’m doing you a favor—helping make sure your seed roots into her womb.” A grunt. “Gods, still so tight even after Aemond’s had his way with you. Can’t wait to feel this pussy wrapped around my cock. Don’t worry, my cock will stretch you out better than his.”

You squirm against the overwhelming sensations. “Please, Your Grace…”

The pumping slows. “Ooh, I just love it when you beg.” His hand exits. “This pussy and I have a playdate.”

Relief sighs through your chest. 

The men shuffle out from behind you. You shift, sitting back, rubbing feeling into your wrists.

King Aegon shoves his smeared hand in Aemond’s face. “Suck your mess off my fingers, brother.”

Aemond stares. No one moves—breath held. His fingers twitch towards the dagger strapped to his thigh. 

He leans forward and opens his mouth, taking the digits in as far as they’ll go. His lips close, and he slowly draws back.

“Your lips look so pretty wrapped around me. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The prince says nothing. Just stuffs his cock back in his trousers and turns to help you stand up. 

Your husband doesn’t let go of you until you’re steady on your feet. 

Aegon sweeps in and kisses you straight on the mouth. He laughs. “My lips can’t be worse than my dick.” 

They taste like wine and damnation.

“Your turn, brother.” Aegon smirks. “She just went through a lot. We must make sure she knows we care for her. That she’s not just a set of holes for us to use.”

Aemond’s glare is pregnant with violence. 

He drinks in your gaze. Grips your jaw. Kisses you fervently, tongue roving over yours again and again until you forget where you stand.

The King whistles low. “Wow, you must love the flavor my cock left on your wife’s tongue. Practically sucked the remnants of my cum out of her mouth. I’d be happy to feed you your own portion.”

“That had nothing to do with you, jaos. I was simply showing my wife how deep my love is for her.” Aemond palms his sword, unsheathing it partway in his brother’s direction. King Aegon stumbles back, ending up three steps below Prince Aemond on the dais. 

Aemond drags his thumb along the flat side of the sword, never taking his eye off the reflective metal. “Do you wish to sire my heir more than you want the protection offered by Vaghar and her rider?”

Once sheathed, he takes his time fastening it to his hips. Plays with the pommel. Looks down at the King on his own dais. “You might want to consult your brain before committing to this farce.”

You clasp Aemond’s hand in yours.

“Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps you knowing I can own your wife’s cunt whenever it pleases me is enough. Perhaps haunting your every coupling suits me better.”

With your free hand, you grab the chain strung across Aegon’s chest, tugging him firmly down to your level. You place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Your voice doesn’t waver:

“Thank you for the entertainment, Your Grace. I’ll send for you if I decide another demonstration is required.”

High Valyrian Glossary: ābrazȳrys = wife ñuha jorrāelagon = my love ñuha sȳz riña = my good girl mittys = idiot ñuhyz jaehossa = my gods qubroti jās = fuck off jaos = dog

Need more Targaryen smut?