by Lexi Sylver
Jon Snow raised a fist to the wooden door of Daenerys’s room, rapping on it three times.
The floor below his feet seemed to sway as he waited. Was it the waves or the feelings of uncertainty flooding him that made him feel so unbalanced?
His doubts were allayed as Daenerys opened the door, blinding him with her flowing white hair, looking up at him with inquisitive yet powerful eyes that mirrored the same chaos of emotions he felt.
Holding his gaze, yet saying nothing, she moved to the side and let Jon enter her room, closing the door behind them.
They silently evaluated the other, King and Queen, standing head to head, not as enemies, but as allies. Both Jon and Daenerys had been chosen by their people as rulers, who followed them freely. They were born to lead. But their connection felt even deeper than that.
“Why did you come here?” she asked him, taking a step to close the gap between them.
“You know why,” he said, sliding his hand at her waist and pulling her closer to him, then leaning down and covering her full lips with his own.
He reveled in her low moan as she wound her arms around him and pressed her soft body against his. It had been so long since Jon had felt the touch of a woman and been this consumed with lust.
Her touch was fire. She made him feel alive, as though a flame was burning within his core. Was she the reason the Lord of Light allowed him to be resurrected?
Daenerys and Jon undressed each other as quickly as possible, stripping off each layer of their heavy garments and punctuating each new expanse of bare flesh with a deep kiss.
And when they were finally stripped to their barest flesh, Jon paused to admire her. Daenerys was pristine, as though carved out of ivory. His fingertips brushed against her immaculate skin, silky to his touch.
Daenerys basked in the roughness of his hardened hands, implements belonging to a warrior, a true King. Her small hands explored the topography of his broad chest, still scarred with angry red marks that seemed only to humanize him with their realness. She traced each scar with her fingertips, drinking in the sight and feel of him.
He watched her examine his flesh, mesmerized by the attention she paid to him, the way her hand slowly encircled his organ with confidence, grasping him firmly.
“You said you’d bend the knee for your Queen,” she said, an amused half-smile on her lips. “Will you promise me your sword, as well?”
Jon smiled. He grasped both of her hands in one of his large ones, stopping her movements, and looked her dead in the eyes.
“Not yet,” he told her gruffly, and took her lips captive. He breathed her in, then let his mouth and hands travel down her neck, his tongue dipping into the hollow of her collarbone before continuing its journey to her nipples. He ensnared each of them in turn, twirling his tongue around each hardened nipple, sucking on them gently.
She held the back of his head as he devoured her, and she could feel her nerve endings catch fire, the sensations shooting from her breasts down to the apex of her thighs.
His hands traced the curves of her hips, as he slowly sank to his knees on the floor in front of her.
Jon’s lips met with the tender flesh of her flat belly, trailing kisses down to the downy blond hair between her thighs. He breathed in her musk, then buried his face between her thighs.
She groaned deeply when felt his tongue brush up against her swollen lips, her eyes rolling back. As she watched his dark-haired head between her legs, she squirmed, provoking Jon to spread her thighs further apart. The strength of his grip prevented her from moving as he consumed her fragrant honey, sticky with its sweetness.
She was so caught off guard with his dominion over her, even in his position on his knees, that it wasn’t long before she felt herself quivering under his tongue. He held her in place as she cried out his name, her muscles contracting uncontrollably until he’d drawn out all the pleasure he possibly could.
When he surfaced again, rising from the floor, he licked his lips of her wetness and smiled mischievously. Daenerys grabbed his hair pulled him to her, sucking on his tongue and tasting herself in his mouth.
Jon’s lifted her into the air, and as she wrapped her legs around his waist, crossing them at the ankle, she could feel the heat of his manhood pressing against her nether lips.
He carried her to the edge of the bed, laying her down on her back and hovering over her. He brushed the wisps of blond hair from her eyes, uncovering her face and looking at her tenderly.
Impatient with lust, Daenerys entwined her fingers in his dark curls and kissed him fully. His fervency began to match her own, and she moaned under the roughness of his touch and dug her nails into his back.
And with his muscled body hovering over hers, pinning her down with her legs spread open, she felt more powerless yet more empowered than ever.
She was so used to being in control, of being in power, that she craved the sensation of powerlessness more than anything. Well, controlled powerlessness. With the head of his sword positioned at the hot entrance of her femininity, her hips rose up to meet his, and she felt him slide himself inside of her.
Daenerys gasped as Jon filled her, invading her depths with his power, her tight walls throbbing around him.
Jon began to thrust into her, slow and shallow first, getting her used to the size of him. Her hands brushed over his muscled shoulders and back, down to his taut ass, grabbing him and feeling the muscles of his ass contract as he pushed himself into her over and over again.
Together, they lost themselves in the feel of each other, limbs entwined with each other as he fucked her more deeply, more intensely, their moans echoing through the chamber and betraying their ecstasy to anyone who might be passing in front of the door.
It was as though time had stopped, as though the entire world wasn’t about to end. Nothing mattered but the fire that burned between them in this moment.
Suffused with passion, she found the strength to flip Jon over on his back, straddling his powerful thighs. As she rode him mercilessly, she pinned his arms above his head and looked down at him.
Jon felt the tips of her long mane of hair graze against his face and chest, allowing her this power over him, struggling to control himself as she quickened her speed. He could do nothing but watch her in unbridled passion. She felt like fire from the inside, nearly melting his cock with the scorching heat inside of her.
Dany roared as she brought herself to the brink of climax again, and Jon felt her squeeze around him, her honey dripping out of her and down his shaft.
She slowed her movements as she caught her breath, the only sign of mortality that Jon could detect amid her goddess-like perfection. Dany smiled slowly and bent to kiss him again, licking the salty sweat from his brow as she loosened her grip on his arms. His hands slipped up her back and he felt a sheen of sweat down her spine, relieved that she too was melting with the heat between them.
Her lips trailed from his neck down his chest, taking her time to kiss the wounds on his torso. He again succumbed to her touch as she dragged her lips lower and lower, until she could taste her own fragrant juices on his throbbing flesh.
He groaned as his Queen took his cock into her mouth, watching raptly as she savored him and looked back at him with her translucent eyes. His fingers buried in her silky hair, absently caressing the intricate braids as he lost himself in the feel of her hot mouth all over him. Jon already felt he could burst, but he stopped himself, controlling the mounting pleasure until he thought he would lose his sanity.
Daenerys seemed to know he was about to explode, and slipped her lips off him, slurping towards the end. It was her turn to smile devilishly as she crawled back over his body, surprising Jon by spinning over his body and turning her back to him. She straddled his hips and mounted him like a stallion again, giving him the perfect view of her arched back and rounded ass as she impaled herself upon his cock.
Jon watching her move on him with regal grace as she threw her head back, with her plentiful hair spilling down her back, over her ass and tickled his thighs and abdomen.
She gripped onto the bedposts on either side of them as she continued to ride him with bestial strength, the undulation of her hips rough, only serving to increase his desire for her. He was consumed with the friction and stickiness of her tight walls, sweltering in the heat they were generating together, deafened with the loud volume of their combined moans.
The only thing tethering him to reality and grounding him as he nearly floated outside his body, was the intense pressure of Dany clutching his cock from inside of her. As she approached her climax and sped up her pace, she exploded around him, shaking and groaning wildly. Jon’s pleasure peaked too, growling as he erupted and released himself inside her.
Daenerys felt the trickle of his juices flowing out of her and down his cock and balls, mixing with her own sticky fluids.
Then she exhaled loudly, laying back on Jon with him still inside her, still filled with his throbbing organ, letting him brush her hair back and kiss the side of her face.
“So now that I’ve given you what you wanted,” she began, as though resuming a conversation.
“What I wanted?” he inquired, and they both laughed. He entwined her fingers with his own and brought her hands to his lips.
“I want you to tell me a story,” she commanded him.
“Do you really need help falling asleep?” he jested.
She slapped his hand playfully, then slid off of him and leaned on her elbow to look at him with her usual penetrating gaze.
“That day that Sir Davos mentioned you had been stabbed in the heart… what did he mean by that?”
Jon was hesitant. “He was just tired from the journey – ” he started.
“Don’t lie to your Queen,” she warned him. “Shall I remind you of the consequences?”
Jon paused and smiled slightly, pondering what it meant for him to tell her. Yet he wanted her to know everything. She had been reborn in fire. If anyone could understand… it would be her, right?
“You might not believe me,” he told her.
“After what we’ve seen and experienced together,” she said, brushing the dark hair from his eyes. “I think you can trust that I will believe anything you say.”
Jon nodded slightly, but as he began to speak, they were both startled with the loud sound of someone rapping at their door.
Tyrion entered the chamber without waiting. He did not seem surprised in the least to see them together.
“Do you understand the meaning of privacy?” Daenerys admonished him.
“I apologize for the intrusion, my Queen. But you are both needed upstairs, at once.”
“I demand to know what’s going on,” The Queen said.
Tyrion raised up a piece of rolled parchment.
“There’s been a raven,” he said, sighing heavily with worry. “You’re not going to believe this…”