a queen you can tear down [jon x dany]trystsMarch 18 2012, 06:04:17 UTC
It was easy to forget that the Dragon Queen wasn’t an immortal goddess reborn-Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt, Stormborn and Stormsent-immaculate, carved of marble and ivory, strong as steel. Sometimes Jon forgot she was a woman of flesh and blood. He thought that perhaps Dany forgot too.
But he reminded her, with his hands on her hips and her nails digging into the edge of her desk, and his sword laying at their feet. He always left his white cloak on when he came to her, and there was always a bit a shock when he reached for her, turned her over. A Queensguard shouldn’t handle his queen, his mortal goddess, so lightly-and yet he ripped her dress, sliding over pale rounded flesh until it pooled in a heap of fabric at her feet. He laid her across the desk, and slipped a finger inside her.
He was never gentle with her. The queen of seven kingdoms, the mother of dragons, and everyone touched her as if she were made of fine glass. But not Jon Snow. No, he left a pattern of bruises up her hips, red circles were he suckled.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, undoing the laces of his breeches.
Dany sent him a scathing look. She didn’t care to be commanded. But he slipped a hand between her legs, giving her a sharp stroke and Dany parted her legs on a breathless moan. Jon gripped the underside of her hips, and slid his cock in deep. He kneaded the soft swell of her breast with one hand, as she pushed backwards to receive him.
“Tell me you want me,” he said near her ear, arching his neck so he could bite down on her earlobe.
“No.” She clenched tightly around his pumping cock. It was a sort of game to them, to see who could break the other one first. Jon wasn’t ashamed to admit that his queen knew his weaknesses, and knew how to exploit them. But he had come to her, determined to claim victory, and he had learned her weaknesses as well.
He flicked a thumb over her hardened nipple, his other hand moving lower, plucking at the tight bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. Dany gasped, and Jon closed a hand around her throat, forcing her head to turn, forcing her to accept the hard press of his mouth. She arched up, hands curling into fists on the flat surface of her desk.
“I am your man,” he told her. “I am yours to command.”
“I am your queen,” she said through clenched teeth. “I am not yours to command.”
“Yes, but not always.” He slammed into her. She squeaked and skidded along the desk, the wooden legs rattling. His thumb pressed down hard, unrelenting, upon her clit. Her cry turned mangled as he bit down hard on her soft, plump lip, gentling the hand around her neck, stroking her rapidly swallowing throat.
He pressed in deep, laying his palm flat against her mound, holding her still so she could feel how he filled her, how she tightened around him-so she could not tell where he ended and she began.
“Come,” he ordered roughly, feeling the white-hot pleasure burning its way up his spine. His released hovered at his periphery. “Come.” He drew himself free, so only the tip of his cock remained inside her. They stood like that, barely daring to breath, and then with a sharply, jackknifing, he buried himself to the hilt.
The Dragon Queen screamed into his mouth, one hand curling tightly around his neck. Her muscles clenched around his cock as her lithe, little body trembled. He murmured to her, nonsensical words, and stroked an appreciative hand through her slit, undulating his hips feverishly. He broke away from her, cursing, burying his head between her shoulder blades as he gave three more long, hard pumps before spending himself into his queen.
It took him a moment to recover himself, and Dany lay still on her stomach, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Jon laced the leather thongs of his breeches and carefully sheathed the sword laying so innocuously on the ground.
He lowered his head to the sweat-slick small of her back and pressed a lingering kiss to the skin there, tasting the salt and the sun-drenched taste of her.
“If you have further need of me, Your Grace,” he murmured. “You need only call.”
Daenerys Targaryen turned and looked at the commander of her Queensgaurd. For once, she seemed the unsure girl. She swallowed rapidly. “No, Ser Jon,” she said softly. “I think that will be all.”
Re: a queen you can tear down [jon x dany]midnightblack07March 18 2012, 06:38:30 UTC
I LOVED THIS!!
Insanely sexy and rather different from the relationship dynamic fics usually tend to go with between these two (in a dark way--which is great because the darker the better IMO hehe); wonderfully done :)
But he reminded her, with his hands on her hips and her nails digging into the edge of her desk, and his sword laying at their feet. He always left his white cloak on when he came to her, and there was always a bit a shock when he reached for her, turned her over. A Queensguard shouldn’t handle his queen, his mortal goddess, so lightly-and yet he ripped her dress, sliding over pale rounded flesh until it pooled in a heap of fabric at her feet. He laid her across the desk, and slipped a finger inside her.
He was never gentle with her. The queen of seven kingdoms, the mother of dragons, and everyone touched her as if she were made of fine glass. But not Jon Snow. No, he left a pattern of bruises up her hips, red circles were he suckled.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, undoing the laces of his breeches.
Dany sent him a scathing look. She didn’t care to be commanded. But he slipped a hand between her legs, giving her a sharp stroke and Dany parted her legs on a breathless moan. Jon gripped the underside of her hips, and slid his cock in deep. He kneaded the soft swell of her breast with one hand, as she pushed backwards to receive him.
“Tell me you want me,” he said near her ear, arching his neck so he could bite down on her earlobe.
“No.” She clenched tightly around his pumping cock. It was a sort of game to them, to see who could break the other one first. Jon wasn’t ashamed to admit that his queen knew his weaknesses, and knew how to exploit them. But he had come to her, determined to claim victory, and he had learned her weaknesses as well.
He flicked a thumb over her hardened nipple, his other hand moving lower, plucking at the tight bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. Dany gasped, and Jon closed a hand around her throat, forcing her head to turn, forcing her to accept the hard press of his mouth. She arched up, hands curling into fists on the flat surface of her desk.
“I am your man,” he told her. “I am yours to command.”
“I am your queen,” she said through clenched teeth. “I am not yours to command.”
“Yes, but not always.” He slammed into her. She squeaked and skidded along the desk, the wooden legs rattling. His thumb pressed down hard, unrelenting, upon her clit. Her cry turned mangled as he bit down hard on her soft, plump lip, gentling the hand around her neck, stroking her rapidly swallowing throat.
He pressed in deep, laying his palm flat against her mound, holding her still so she could feel how he filled her, how she tightened around him-so she could not tell where he ended and she began.
“Come,” he ordered roughly, feeling the white-hot pleasure burning its way up his spine. His released hovered at his periphery. “Come.” He drew himself free, so only the tip of his cock remained inside her. They stood like that, barely daring to breath, and then with a sharply, jackknifing, he buried himself to the hilt.
The Dragon Queen screamed into his mouth, one hand curling tightly around his neck. Her muscles clenched around his cock as her lithe, little body trembled. He murmured to her, nonsensical words, and stroked an appreciative hand through her slit, undulating his hips feverishly. He broke away from her, cursing, burying his head between her shoulder blades as he gave three more long, hard pumps before spending himself into his queen.
It took him a moment to recover himself, and Dany lay still on her stomach, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Jon laced the leather thongs of his breeches and carefully sheathed the sword laying so innocuously on the ground.
He lowered his head to the sweat-slick small of her back and pressed a lingering kiss to the skin there, tasting the salt and the sun-drenched taste of her.
“If you have further need of me, Your Grace,” he murmured. “You need only call.”
Daenerys Targaryen turned and looked at the commander of her Queensgaurd. For once, she seemed the unsure girl. She swallowed rapidly. “No, Ser Jon,” she said softly. “I think that will be all.”
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Insanely sexy and rather different from the relationship dynamic fics usually tend to go with between these two (in a dark way--which is great because the darker the better IMO hehe); wonderfully done :)
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thank you for this.
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A thousand times yes.
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amazing job! you have made me into a dany/jon believer :)
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