song_of_ice | Duplicity Inbox

"Wherever I am, I will face some sort of danger." It seemed to almost be drawn to him. The Others, this world, the things that shouldn't be real, they found their way into his path. Whether he wanted to or not, he would have to face it whether he was with her or not. Something at some point would thrust him into this fight...likely involving Dany in some way. Concern for her or something else?

What he deserved or not didn't cross his mind. It was simple facts, he would always fight. Rest would be elusive until he finally died for good.

It's a question that he hasn't heard before that it leaves him baffled. Who would protect him? Besides himself? He struggles for an answer, made even more blank by her gentle caress. When finally she answers, he's overwhelmed by the implication. No one cared for him to this extent before, no one had given him a real sense of home.

He didn't respond, instead pulling her closer, seizing her mouth in a kiss. It might not silence her fears, but it would give an outlet for the powerful emotions she elicited in him.

It's the right answer; she knows it deep in her bones, long before he pulls her closer and kisses her. She's not expecting that, so the first moment's met with her stupidly gaping. There's no ignoring the soft press of his mouth, though. Warm, soft lips against hers, demanding a kiss she happily gives. Gentle at first, before it turns into something a little more heated, a lot more taking.

It's like she surges up against him the moment she can. All that restless energy, the desire to move--it turns into a raging need to kiss him. Kiss him until her lungs scream and her head grows fuzzy. Kiss his until that very last second where she needs to break it, just enough to suck in a breath.

"You're inevitable," she whispers against his mouth.

He holds her close, pressing her body to his as he clasps her tightly. The sheer material of her nightgown bunched into a fist, raising it just enough that his fingers could brush against her bare ass. He chases her lips, not wanting to break even as the need for air overpowers him. His breath is ragged in his chest as she murmurs against him. He's kiss dumb, but still understands what she means.

She's inevitable for him as well. "I need you." Not just like this, not just in his bed, but overall. Being away from her was impossible and physically painful. Now that she was back in his arms, there was no chance that he could stay away again. Either he accept the danger and troubles completely or he deny himself what he needed to feel alive and home again.

Gently, he urged her back towards the bed, easing her back against it.

No one's ever told her they needed her before. Not like this. That catches her by surprise, makes her pliant to where he leads them, arching her back so she can press her arse into his hand. One step back, two, until his mattress meets the backs of her legs in a mirror of how they'd approached this before. Would she be on the receiving end, now?

She sits down with his urging, catching the hem of his pants and giving it a light tug. Already, he's too tall for more kisses. Not so tall that she can't lean in to press a kiss to his abdomen, though.

He tugs at her nightgown until it is over her head and on the floor. At the same time that she is falling back against the bed, he is yanking off the rest of his cloths, deeply regretting his earlier move to put them back on. Now, when he needed skin to skin contact the most, it needed extra work. It's a bit undignified and silly, the way he kicks off his trousers before pressing himself between her legs.

He's careful in his urging, knowing that this was something they never attempted before. She had always been above him in their coupling. He catches her eye, seeking permission as he rests more and more against her. In encouragement, his hips roll against hers, a testament of need and anticipation.

But she's a fluid thing, shifting as he tugs her nightgown off, sliding back on the bed as he crawls on and settles between the V of her legs. He looks at her and she at him, holding his eye for a beat before she's curling a hand around the nape of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. It's easy then to settle on her back.

Doesn't mean she'll take everything he gives and not return the favor.

As he rolls his hips, his cock brushing her slit, she hums into his mouth, hooking a leg around his hips, digging her heel into his arse.

They are such small gestures but speak loudly of the trust she places in him. His kisses are possessive and overwhelming, telling her of the feelings that he still could not put to words. They were powerful and strong, undeniable and inevitable. He could remember the train they arrived on, the speed and pace it moved. His heart felt as though it were zooming ahead, at an incomprehensible rate, charging towards a destination he didn't know but had to follow.

A hand reaches between them, brushing against her slit, testing the wetness as he teased her bundle of nerves. His cock had already twitched back to life, harder than before and painful as he rocked his hips again.

With his free hand, he wrapped an arm around her hooked leg, helping adjust her so that they could be closer to each other, allowing him to move deeply when the time came.

Oh. That's one way to wake her body up again. Kisses do their part, but she's not as wet as earlier. That heat from before's only now returning, a little slow at first, but it grows the more he teases. Like stoking a flame, really. And she's making a noise, something a little needy and wanting the more he teases her clit.

"I've made myself come just by touching myself there," she murmurs against his mouth between kisses. Her free hand slips down his back, nails scraping hard muscle and skin. "Before the cruise I'd touch your bite and myself and pretend it was your mouth on me."

Definitely not a passive participant.

He groans at her words, feeling a light dribble of precum run between her thighs. His fingers move more eagerly, trying to tease her in the way that she might have touched herself. He had wondered if she ever thought of him, either after the park or her apartment. His fantasies had been continuous, from before the cruise and after as well, even if there was the haunting knowledge that someone else was with her as well. Somehow that further stimulate him.

His mouth dipped towards her breast, nipping at the spot he had marked before. The bruise was nearly gone, and while he intended to eventually remark her, this wasn't the moment he wanted to do that. His thumb swirled against her clit as two fingers slipped inside her, moving steadily.

"Thinking about you was all that got me through the last two weeks."

She thinks he's about to mark her again, and there's a weightless eagerness which comes with the expectation. Like when Drogon nosedives and the earth threatens to swallow them both. Never one for being claimed, it's a rather strange excitement.

His little bite isn't what she's expecting, not what she wants--but there's no time to voice disappointment, because he's slipping two fingers into her. Suddenly spreading her open, pumping in and out of her while he toys with her clit. It's not that fullness of his cock, but his fingers are thicker than hers and they feel so much better.

Her head thunks back against the mattress, hips moving without any conscious effort in time with his 'thrusts'.

"What did you--" Breathy. "--think about?"

His tongue twirls around her harden nipple, tasting her before his lips latch on, suckling her eagerly. His fingers moved roughly, imitating the frantic rocking of his hips. Was this what she did? Was this how her hand moved between her legs? The thought fascinated him, wanting to imitate and bring her greater pleasure than her hand might have.

Her voice is strangled, causing his breath to catch in his throat, nearly choking him with desire. His eyes roll back in his head as he sucked harder against her breast. His brow nuzzled her, seeking to breathe her in and absorb every inch of her.

"The park..." naturally. "What else we could have done on the cruise." Instead of fighting, he means. "If I had been in a room with you."

"Muddy," is what she has to say of the park. But there's a part of her which enjoyed that. Riding him and commanding him. Fucking in the rain with no care of anything or anyone around them. There's enjoyment in this as well, of course, much enjoyment, in fact. "We should do that again."

She drags her nails against his scalp, arching her back as he sucks on a nipple. Each draw sends sparks shooting inside her, making her ache for more than just fingers.

...even if those fingers are working her in ways she'd never quite manage herself. That must be because it's him. No fantasy about him will ever live up to this; it's also why the last two weeks were torture.

"We're in a room now."

"Wet," he grins wickedly against her breast, his thumb twirling and teasing her nerves in an effort to make her gasp. His fingers were damp against her, the smell strong against his nose, even as he pressed his face to her chest. "Very wet."

He thrusts his fingers a few more times before drawing them out of her, raising them to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste her. He held her gaze as he sucked the juices clean from his digits. His hips rolled against her, promising more to come.

"We are." And they weren't going to leave it for awhile. They were barely going to be able to move when he was finished. "And in a bed for once."

He adjusted his cock, pressing the head to her entrance.

"You make me wet," she manages to say, voice a little higher than normal. The more he teases her, the more he winds her up. Before, it was a distant interest; now, it's as if she's on fire.

No, that's a lie. She nearly snarls at him when he pulls his fingers out of her cunt. But the snarl dies on her lips when he licks them. His fingers. He's licking the taste of her off his fingers, staring at her whilst he does it. That sets her on fire. The blues of her eyes are swallowed by her pupils, dark with lust. Her breaths--they're sharp, as if she'd just returned from a sprint.

It's the hammering in her ears, in the same rhythm as the ache between her legs that's torture though. And it will continue to be torture until he's inside of her. So the moment he presses the head of his cock against her slit, she's wiggling. Nails digging into his sides, other leg lifting so she can dig her heels into his arse and try to push him into her faster.

"Best make the most of it."

"Good." He managed to gasp as the taste of her hit his tongue. He was swollen and throbbing, his senses amplified by every breath she drew in and every shift in smell of her. This room was cloaked with the two of them, heavy with sex, tension and need. It felt like one more groan and the entire word would snap like a twig in the fire. "You make me hard."

She was still demanding, even while underneath him. If there was any doubt left in his mind that this was a vulnerable position for her, it was eradicated by the dig of her nails and the way her legs wound around him. He rocked his hips again, enjoying the soft revenge for all of her earlier teasing.

Finally he pressed against her, feeling the tip of his cock slowly glide into her, eased in by her wetness and willing walls. He let out a huff of breath, as though he were coming alive again. It was a strange thing. Tension was removed from his chest and then returned all at once. The feel of her, being surrounded by her, it was salvation and damnation mixed together.

He was home, but would spend the rest of his life looking to return again and again.

"Is it better than you have known?"

"I know. You feel good that way."

That 'soft revenge' only has her digging her nails into him harder. Likely hard enough to leave him sore, maybe even slightly bruised. He'd deserve it for this teasing, toying with her by hovering, pressing close to offer the promise of him filling her... only for it to be tugged away at the last second. Any part of his cock sliding against her slit will be coated in her arousal.

The groan he wanted earlier comes when he finally presses into her. And gods. It's like a thickness inside her she didn't realize she needed. He slips into her easily, So deliciously addictive, she can't help but moan when he's finally pressed into her as far as he can. The noise comes unbidden, maddening heat and the throbbing of his cock making her toes curl.

"As far as cocks go?"

"Is that why you go out of your way to make it happen?"

He hissed as her nails dug into him more fiercely. His hips bucked forward, breaking the steady ease as he slid further into her, suddenly fully sheathed. She always found a way to repay him when he tried to get some form of revenge, but it was a struggle he was happy to bend to.

He paused when her body parted for him, fully encompassing his cock as though she were made to fit him. His breath harsh as he stared down at her, bumping his nose with hers. Touch was needed, no matter if they were joined or not. His fingers always found their way back to her cheek and hair, needing to caress and marvel at the softness of her.

He smirked, remembering her on the ship with Wynonna. It hadn't occurred to him what she was doing until they were practically fucking against the railing. "As far as anyone goes." He wanted to be her best, her only.

"Because I want to see the outline of you pressed against your pants?" She makes a noise, a soft grunt when he thrusts into her. It's sharper, a similar kind as his fingers when she'd least expected it. "Or perhapsI like watching you go wolfish?"

The truth is, she prefers watching the way his body reacts to her. How he turns from a snarling wolf into a man with an aching cock he's desperate to fill her with. That frenzy they fuck with--she likes that too.

He caresses her cheek. She turns her head against his hold, pressing a kiss to the middle of his palm. With further maneuvering, she'll catch his thumb between her lips, sucking it into her mouth up to the first knuckle as she looks back up at him.

Her look turns mischievous as she pulls back, nipping at his flesh. "Mn, I'll have to tell you after."

He nipped again at her breast, a bit rougher than before, a reminder of what would come soon enough. "Why does it seem like you have more power over me than I do over you?" He couldn't often see her bodily responses, but there were moments he could smell them in the air.

She inspires a great deal of madness in him, as though the trait of Targaryen kings could infect others. Already he is battling between a steady, easy rhythm to one where his fire and lust takes control. She melted the gentleness and awe in him, summoning up the beast that needed to chase and fuck until he had no air left to draw.

But even still, he could still be reverent and worship her as she deserved. His mouth found its way back to hers, drawing her in for a lingering and soft kiss. His eyes darkened at her teasing of his thumb, remembering how it felt to have those lips wrapped around his cock.

"I haven't given you enough proof of what I'm capable of?"

The sharp scrape of teeth has her inhaling sharply, her inner muscles contracting around his cock. And it's still not the bite she wants. She owes him one as well, which could be handled later. But his... she wants it. She needs it so when she's alone at night, she can toy with the sore skin and finger fuck herself to thoughts of him.

"I wasn't aware we were warring for control." If that were the case... she's still curious to see how he would be with her in bed, her beneath him. Would it be a loving sort of fucking, or would it be hard and as unforgiving as the park had been? "Forgot how you licked me off your fingers already?"

How wet he's made her is far more an indicator of his power over her. That he can excite her that much, and so quickly. She aches for him, even with him inside her. Gods help her.

She happily kisses him, the soft press of lips, the wet slide of tongues. It has her hips rocking up, the need for him deeper, to create that friction, to have him thrusting into her over and over... it grows and grows. Just as she kisses and kisses, parting only with a long and slow suck to his bottom lip.

"You'll have to remind me."

It's a small victory to have her keening for his bite, to know that she wants it as much as he wants to bestow it. Claiming in such a feral way, he had never done it before until he met her. But the park and her wild tendencies brought out a ferocity in him. He wanted to claim and mark, for the world to see that she was his woman and she was well looked after.

His hips began to pick up in speed, angling just so that he could strike against that sensitive spot that he had become so familiar with. "I think we war to make the other one senseless." Why else would they do everything in their power to drive each other mad? Nails, teeth, fingers, all were used to heighten their arousal to such a point that they could barely breathe or think.

His hand slipped between them, finding her clit again as he wet his fingers against her, teasing her as his thrusts became more fierce. He had been waiting to fuck her into the ground and now he had the opportunity, even if he battled between tenderness and need.

Each kiss has him soaring, his heart thudding against his chest, loud and sharp enough that she could feel it. Sweat already began to pool against his lower back, sliding over his buttocks and between their legs.

"I have the whole night to remind you."

There's a vivid different between them when it comes to leading in bed. Where she takes her time and teases, he fucks her with an intensity that's all too overwhelming to her senses. No matter that he thrusts into her rougher--she wants that punishing slap of their hips. The way he sinks into deeper. His cock hits her g-spot and she's gritting her teeth to hold back a moan--

One which breaks away when that sneaky man slips his hand between them and toys with her clit. He says something to her; she doesn't know what, because her mind is so twisted around how he plays her body so confidently. It's sexy. He is, and she wants to suck his cock all over again to show him her appreciation.

"Bite me," she manages to rasp.

He could be tender, even in his roughness and fervency. Every touch, every caress was meant to cherish her and show her reverential devotion. His intensity and focus was on her, every thought and heart beat filled with her. It wasn't about fucking, it was about giving everything he had to her, touch, heart and mind. He might not have bent the knee, but he was kneeling before the altar of her beauty and kindness.

So her request was a command and who was he to deny her? He thrust deeper, grunting as he felt her quivering around him, her walls tight and firm. The heat was consuming him, drawing out his desire until it felt like a rock in his throat. He was chocking, so near breaking as his body begged for release.

He nuzzled her breast tenderly, pressing a lovely kiss to where the mark was once and licked at the skin. All at once, his teeth dug into her, biting deep and fierce, his lips sucking at the bruise roughly.

She's a woman who swore never to be claimed, not by men like Drogo. Not even by men like Jon, who proved all the more dangerous because he's a good man. Yet she tells him to mark her, like a claim all the same. In the heat of this, she needs him to mark her. Bite her. It's as if something's missing without that bruise on her. If she leaves, she wants that bite to remind her of him and this.

The teeth are one thing, but paired with the way he sucks at her skin--it has her choking on a gasp. Her fingers press against his scalp, twisting in his hair as she arches her back. More, more, more, her body seems to say. Her mind's no longer working.

And it's as he gives that rough suck, his fingers toying with her clit, that the world seems to tilt upon itself. Her orgasm hits her hard, inner muscles contracting around his cock with a vise-like grip as she nearly seizes up in face of the pleasure which hits her. On and on, breast on cunt and clit, all of those sensations melting into a never-ending liquid heat that has her gripping his hair as if it could keep her grounded.

It eventually eases, and in the wake of that overwhelming orgasm, she slumps back into his mattress and the blankets damp with sweat.

The salt of her skin, the sound of her cries, all of it was jolting him higher and higher, far beyond the limits of the Wall until he was certain there was no ground to find. But it was all coming to a head, eventually he would plummet and collide into something that would be stronger and more fierce than he ever knew.

She's squirming under him, the smell of her arousal thick in the air. His hips sped up, no sense of rhythm or pace, simply chasing the pressure that was building to explosion. His body shook under her grip, his scalp stinging as she pulled his hair. His moans were muffled against her skin, his lips refusing to release her breast.

As her walls clenched around him, he growled, biting harder as she struggled under her orgasm. Just as she went limp, the last of it being ridden out, Jon felt his body break. Vision, hearing and the world shattered, there was only his body shaking, the spurting of his seed and the powerful wave that pulled him down, down until he was suffocating in her.

Finally, it passed through him. He released his hold of her, but didn't bother to pull out, instead resting his head against her chest.

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