He growled low under his breath, but never let it ruin the moment. Instead, he focused harder, hummed against her breast like a man spellbound. He licked, kissed, and mouthed every soft curve with maddening devotion, letting her feel what it meant to be wanted.
She was a cloud of flesh beneath him. He couldn't get over it, how soft she was everywhere. How delicate, yet how durable. How she quivered when he kissed her nipples, arched when he licked. What a woman, he thought.
Sliding further down, he kissed the side of her belly, where another deep bruise had bloomed. His lips lingered longer there, and she whimpered again, but not from pain. Her fingers sank into the sheets, knuckles white.
Then, he moved lower.
Her legs were already parted, but he pushed them up gently, spreading her thighs wide with his hands sunk deep into the supple curve of her underthighs. Her body obeyed him willingly, melting under every guided press.
And there she was.
He paused, just to look. To see her.
Her entrance was glistening, exposed, slick, and flushed with need. Her petals were slightly parted already, pink and needy, trembling. Even after all the trials of childbirth, and heartbreak, and time; her cunt was art. Targaryen blood, through and through. No hair save a delicate little tuft above, her bloom perfectly visible, sinful and beautiful all at once.
His fingers held the sides of her thighs, massaging tenderly. His thumbs brushed near the edges of her soaked folds, admiring, memorizing. He saw faint stretch marks, delicate and silvered across her underthighs. They weren't flaws. They were history. Her history. She had survived, endured. And still, here she was, wet, gorgeous, and begging.
He lowered his face and kissed those marks.
"Ooooh~" She gasped.
Rhaella arched the moment she felt it; his tongue, his breath. A moan escaped her lips, uncontrolled. Her legs trembled, spreading wider on instinct. His breath alone had lit a fuse inside her, but when his tongue met her clit, slow and curling, she lost it.
She wasn't a queen anymore. She was a woman unraveling, drowning in sensation.
Wylis lapped at her like a beast turned worshiper. His lips surrounded her bundle of nerves, his tongue, broad and strong—licked in slow, steady, almost reverent swirls. He circled her swollen bud until she was panting, leaking onto the sheets. His tongue tip danced across her clit, flicking with devilish precision.
With a deep breath, he eased back, his face slick with her arousal. He looked at her with raw hunger in his eyes, then muttered hoarsely, "Forgive me… but it's getting painful for me down there."
He stood on the bed fully.
He untied the laces of his trousers and let them fall; and there it was. His flesh sword. Freed, dangling heavy and thick, a veined slab of pure, throbbing manhood. His shaft curved slightly upward, fat and flushed, with a cockhead so swollen it looked like it had been trapped for hours. His balls hung low, weighty with need. He didn't move. He just stood there, offering himself. Letting her see.
"I… I am ready, Wylis," she whispered, breath hot and scattered, her eyes locked on the pulsing column of flesh. "But… be gentle with that. You're… magnificent."
His lips twitched with a smirk, and he knelt between her spread legs again. Slowly, respectfully, but with fire still burning behind his eyes. He didn't want to fold her up, didn't want to pound her into the mattress. No, he wanted this to mean something to her.
So he moved her gently onto her side, just a little, her thick, creamy thigh pushed up by his hand. Just one leg grabbed under the knee, pushing, guiding the stretch, letting her feel safe.
"Rhaella," he said. Gentle but not soft, possessive. His voice was full of heat and hunger. "Unless you don't want me to… I'll be nothing but gentle."
Then he reached down and stroked himself. His cockhead gleamed from her slick, his shaft pulsing with veins. He guided himself lower and started teasing her glistening folds, dragging his cockhead over her slit again and again. Each slow pass of that flushed crown smeared her nectar over both of them.
The size difference was shocking. That swollen tip dwarfed her pink entrance. Her lips quivered as he rubbed it against her, soft but needy, her slit drooling like it was begging him to come in.
"Mmmh!" she whimpered, breath fluttering.
This wasn't just physical anymore. Her mind spun with emotion: need, healing, surrender. For the first time in her life, a man was in her bed who actually wanted her. Not her bloodline. Not her title. Her. A man she'd invited herself.
She felt loved.
Wylis lifted her leg just a bit more and pushed his flushed mushroom head forward. Slow and steady.
Her mouth opened into a silent expression of awe, the feeling overwhelming her entirely.
His thickness forced her wet, inner walls open, parting her inch by glorious inch. The stretch was insane. Her pussy clung to him, gripping and resisting, but surrendering anyway.
But then, her hips jolted.
Her belly quivered. Her back arched, and her thighs shook.
"Oooohhhh…!"
She came. Hard. Her body spasmed as a powerful flood burst from her. She squirted, gushing onto him with force. Her hands flew up to cover her face, shame washing over her even as pleasure still wracked her spine.
She couldn't stop. Her hips jerked again, her body tensing up. Another squirt sprayed out. She was making a mess. Soaking the bed. Soaking him.
His cock fell out of her twitching pussy with a lewd pop, coated in her slick. His abs, his thighs, drenched in her climax. Her cunt was dripping, quivering, pulsing open.
So much pent-up desire. Wylis thought in awe and even more desire now.
She whimpered, "F-Forgive me… Wylis…"
"What?" he frowned, genuinely stunned, then smirked, dirty and wild. He slapped his cockhead right back on her soaked entrance with a wet smack.
"Rhaella, that was the most beautiful thing a woman can show a man. That's not shame—it's a fucking badge of honor. That tells a man he's worthy. That he's good in bed. That he's good… for her cunt."
"Oh!" She cried out. The words, the slap, him; all of it hit her like fire.
He slid back in, this time deeper. Her folds parted with reactive reluctance, her slippery cunt still pulsing from her euphoric release. His cock filled her like nothing ever had.
She clapped her hands over her mouth in panic. She wanted to scream. She wanted to howl in pleasure.
Her pussy wrapped around him, spasming, sucking him in. She was soaked, gushing, and still, it felt like too much. He was thick. Veins dragging along her inner walls, pushing deeper. And yet, she never wanted it to end. It was too much. Too good.
His hips started to move, slow, grinding waves that stirred every nerve inside her. Wylis fucked her like he meant it. Not fast, not hard; not yet. Just the steady, molten drag of a thick cock easing deeper and deeper into her embracing cunt. And at first, he thought she was loose, just as any woman who had given life would be.
But then he felt it.
Her pussy tightened.
A pulse. A twitch. Then a clamp.
He looked down in awe. His cock wasn't even all the way in. He was barely halfway buried inside her. And already, her folds were hugging him like a velvet glove. Holding him. Wanting him. Needing him.
He kept thrusting, controlled and patient. Each pull coaxed her open, and each push forced her to accept more of him. The wet, sticky schlick of his molten member pushing in and out filled the room in obscene harmony with the slap of flesh.
Rhaella tried to be quiet. But the moans still slipped out, bitten into her lips, muffled behind both trembling hands. Her expression twisted with overwhelming bliss, brows furrowed, lips parted around desperate gasps. She was losing herself, helplessly.
Shlk… shlk… shlk…
He fucked her slowly as they stared, locked in a rhythm. Every thrust felt like a promise. Every pull, a tease. By the time he finally bottomed out, his cock sheathed to the hilt, her cunt felt like it was devouring him. Tight, hot, and so fucking wet. Each withdrawal pulled at her lips like they didn't want to let him go, and each plunge earned him a greedy squelch as her walls clamped with scorching heat.
Rhaella felt like a virgin again, a real one. Every inch he gave her made her feel reborn. Her eyes fluttered…
And she came.
It exploded out of her like lightning. Sudden. Fierce. Her thighs jerked. Her belly knotted up. Her cunt spasmed around his cock, milking him while her lips trembled in stunned euphoria.
Wylis groaned—Fuck, she's tight.
He gritted his teeth, fucking through it as her orgasm coated him inside. Squelch after squelch, her juices bubbling up around his shaft. His balls were aching. His cock, pulsing. He was right on the edge.
"Uh… Rhaella…" he groaned, voice thick with lust, and leaned forward. One hand slid under her jaw, his thick thumb gliding over her trembling lower lip. The other hand still cradled her thigh, pushing it up with reverent control.
"Mmm… More… More… Wylis… I can take more…" she begged, drunk on sensation, on him.
And so he gave her more.
He bent over her, keeping her leg lifted higher, and kissed her mouth just as he slammed his sinewy length back inside with one clean, controlled drive—balls deep. His hips met her ass with a heavy slap. The royal bed creaked underneath.
And there—he came.
With a shudder that wracked his massive frame, Wylis unleashed everything inside her. The first pump was hot; burning, heavy. The second flooded her. Each gush of cum poured into her womb like a molten blessing.
Her inner walls squeezed, trying to contain it, but the sheer amount… it was too much.
Rhaella moaned into his mouth as her eyes rolled, then whimpered as she felt it. All of it. That primal, gooey claim. She wrapped her legs around his back, her heels digging into his thighs, trying to keep him deep. To lock him in.
She wanted it all. The weight. The stretch. The gift.
She felt him throb inside, over and over, as thick ropes painted her walls. Her belly felt warm and full. Like she'd been bred, not just fucked, but blessed. Her cunt still spasmed.
"Now… I know… why she was so loud!" She whimpered, delirious, lips curled into a dizzy smile, high on pleasure and soaked in sin. Remembering the moans she'd heard from the floor below that night.
Squish–slurp… Squelch!
The mess was filthy. Slippery cream spilled from her swollen pussy, already slick from her own juices. The mixture of their fluids made a sticky, decadent mess. Her thighs were glazed. His cock, still lodged deep, was slathered in their lust.
It dripped from her slit like nectar from a ruined bloom.
Like a bee had ravaged a withered flower, pumping it full of life, pollinating her with molten love. He had given her everything, and now… she was blooming again.
"You are…" Wylis felt his climax subside, and while still inside, stopped kissing her and looked at her face intimately. "You're making it harder for me to decide."
"Decide… W-What?" She asked, too sore to focus, delirious with her life's first, actually enjoyable sex, and she felt so stretched and desired.
Wylis chuckled and licked her nipple with his flat tongue. "To not tie you up and take you with me."
"Mmmm…"
Rhaella smiled, aware he was only teasing. But somewhere deep down, she wished she could say yes to that idea.
"Can you… Wylis… do more?"
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