Fic: Dreams (1/2)
Title: Dreams (1/2)
Author: phoenikxs
Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire
Pairing: Dany/Jorah
Rating: R
Word Count: 1164
Summary: What happens in Dany’s tent after the end of Nightmares?
Author's Note: As always, this story wouldn’t be here without the help and unwavering support of mrstater.
This is a continuation of my previous fic, Nightmares. You should probably read that one first.
This can't possibly be real. I must be dreaming, are the thoughts on the forefront of Jorah Mormont's mind. That is the only explanation that makes sense to him, that can explain why he finds himself in his khaleesi's tent, sitting on her sleeping mat and kissing her with so much passion and reckless abandon it quite literally takes his breath away. It is not a one-sided kiss either, for Daenerys is a very willing, very active participant, surprising him by doing things with her tongue that belie her youthful, innocent looks.
But this won't do. Jorah is intimately familiar with these kinds of dreams. He knows exactly how they play out. Every single one of them, and there have been more than he feels comfortable admitting in the days and months since he met Daenerys Targaryen, ends with him waking up on his sleeping mat, frustrated, painfully aroused and alone.
His musings are interrupted by a low moan and a whimper from Daenerys, and he suddenly notices his hands wandered while he was lost in thought. One fondles Dany's breast, gently rolling her nipple, while his other hand has found its way to her lower back, pressing her even closer to him. She feels warm and soft and so real, he starts to believe this might not be a dream after all. Just to make sure, he takes the hand from her back - there is no way he would ever think of removing the one from her breast - and gives himself a hard, painful pinch. The sharp pain makes him break the passionate kiss, but instead of waking up alone on his mat, he still finds himself sitting in Daenerys' tent, facing a wide-eyed, panting khaleesi, whose lips are swollen from kissing.
“What is it?” she whispers in a low, throaty voice that sends shivers of desire down his spine.
“I needed to make sure this wasn't just another dream.” Jorah admits sheepishly.
This brings a slow, predatory smile to her face that is laced with so much lust and hunger that takes his breath away.
“Another dream?” she asks, closing the unbearable distance between them and touching his cheek, her thumb gently caressing his lips. “Do you mean to say you occasionally have these kinds of dreams about me, good ser?”
“Frequently might be a more apt description,” Jorah freely admits. “Although, there usually is a deal less talking involved.”
“And what, pray tell, do we do in these dreams of yours if not talk?”
The flirtatious smile that accompanies her teasing question is his undoing.
“I think it'll be easier if I show you,” he growls before reclaiming her lips once again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Feeling Jorah's lips upon hers with renewed vigor, Daenerys lets herself relax into the kiss once more. It is so easy to give into his kisses, to enjoy and just feel. Her bear is a skilled kisser. Not necessarily because he has the best technique - she thinks she hasn't kissed quite enough people to be the judge of that - but because he applies himself to kissing with a single-minded determination that makes her feel as though she, and kissing her, are the only things in the world that matter to him. Judging from his earlier confessions, that part may actually be true.
It is only when she feels her head being gently lowered to the floor that she realizes Jorah has moved them to a more comfortable position, with her lying on her back and him next to her, his leg thrown over hers, cushioning her head with one of his hands. His other hand quickly resumes its previous position on her breast for which she is immensely grateful. Dany loves how he doesn't seem to tire of touching her, lavishing her breasts with attention, making her breathless with need and want and lust.
Her head spins, as much from the delicious feelings Jorah’s kisses and touch, his closeness, evoke as from the utter strangeness of this night. How did she get from having a terrible nightmare, to being awoken and consoled by her friend, to kissing and touching said friend, to finally knowing he feels so much more than friendship for her? Earlier she came to the realization that she wants and needs Jorah in her life, cannot even begin to fathom it without her bear by her side. That much she knows. But what about taking him as her lover? She knows without a shadow of a doubt that she desires him. Her body’s strong reaction to him - she is almost embarrassingly wet from just a few kisses - is evidence of that. However, is she ready to love again when her husband, her Sun and Stars, has not even been dead much longer than a moon’s turn?
Before she has time to search her heart for the answer to this question, Jorah’s lips find a sensitive spot on her neck, while simultaneously pinching her nipple just so, and she can’t stop the low moan escaping her throat and the upward thrust of her hips, instinctively searching for friction. Her bear takes this as an invitation and slowly, but firmly presses her hips into the floor, grinding himself against her, his hard length unmistakable, rubbing against her in all the right places, and Dany knows her earlier question is irrelevant now. She is no longer the blushing maiden who was married off by her brother, and she knows there is no stopping this now that Jorah is so obviously aroused and hard for her.
Without hesitation, she reaches for the laces of his breeches. Jorah lifts his hips and she thinks it's to help her remove the layers of clothing covering his manhood, so it comes as a complete shock when he moves out of her grasp and rolls to her side, out of reach of her hands. Surprise does not even begin to describe the swirling depth of her emotions and as her eyes move up to meet his, she finds him looking at her, love, lust and desire still clearly written on his face, but he shakes his head, as much to clear it as to stop her.
“No, Daenerys. This is not....” He trails off. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. We do not have to do this.”
“You do not want me?” She hates how broken and small her voice sounds.
“No! Of cousre, I do! I cannot count the times I dreamt about this, being undressed by you, touched by you, desired by you.” He blushes slightly at this confession. “I want you, Daenerys. Be very sure of that. I chose to swear my allegiance to you, to become blood of your blood, to give you my sword, and my heart. I want to make sure you have that same choice. That you can decide of your own free will and do not feel any sort of obligation towards me. I chose you. And I want you to have that same choice.”
Author: phoenikxs
Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire
Pairing: Dany/Jorah
Rating: R
Word Count: 1164
Summary: What happens in Dany’s tent after the end of Nightmares?
Author's Note: As always, this story wouldn’t be here without the help and unwavering support of mrstater.
This is a continuation of my previous fic, Nightmares. You should probably read that one first.
This can't possibly be real. I must be dreaming, are the thoughts on the forefront of Jorah Mormont's mind. That is the only explanation that makes sense to him, that can explain why he finds himself in his khaleesi's tent, sitting on her sleeping mat and kissing her with so much passion and reckless abandon it quite literally takes his breath away. It is not a one-sided kiss either, for Daenerys is a very willing, very active participant, surprising him by doing things with her tongue that belie her youthful, innocent looks.
But this won't do. Jorah is intimately familiar with these kinds of dreams. He knows exactly how they play out. Every single one of them, and there have been more than he feels comfortable admitting in the days and months since he met Daenerys Targaryen, ends with him waking up on his sleeping mat, frustrated, painfully aroused and alone.
His musings are interrupted by a low moan and a whimper from Daenerys, and he suddenly notices his hands wandered while he was lost in thought. One fondles Dany's breast, gently rolling her nipple, while his other hand has found its way to her lower back, pressing her even closer to him. She feels warm and soft and so real, he starts to believe this might not be a dream after all. Just to make sure, he takes the hand from her back - there is no way he would ever think of removing the one from her breast - and gives himself a hard, painful pinch. The sharp pain makes him break the passionate kiss, but instead of waking up alone on his mat, he still finds himself sitting in Daenerys' tent, facing a wide-eyed, panting khaleesi, whose lips are swollen from kissing.
“What is it?” she whispers in a low, throaty voice that sends shivers of desire down his spine.
“I needed to make sure this wasn't just another dream.” Jorah admits sheepishly.
This brings a slow, predatory smile to her face that is laced with so much lust and hunger that takes his breath away.
“Another dream?” she asks, closing the unbearable distance between them and touching his cheek, her thumb gently caressing his lips. “Do you mean to say you occasionally have these kinds of dreams about me, good ser?”
“Frequently might be a more apt description,” Jorah freely admits. “Although, there usually is a deal less talking involved.”
“And what, pray tell, do we do in these dreams of yours if not talk?”
The flirtatious smile that accompanies her teasing question is his undoing.
“I think it'll be easier if I show you,” he growls before reclaiming her lips once again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Feeling Jorah's lips upon hers with renewed vigor, Daenerys lets herself relax into the kiss once more. It is so easy to give into his kisses, to enjoy and just feel. Her bear is a skilled kisser. Not necessarily because he has the best technique - she thinks she hasn't kissed quite enough people to be the judge of that - but because he applies himself to kissing with a single-minded determination that makes her feel as though she, and kissing her, are the only things in the world that matter to him. Judging from his earlier confessions, that part may actually be true.
It is only when she feels her head being gently lowered to the floor that she realizes Jorah has moved them to a more comfortable position, with her lying on her back and him next to her, his leg thrown over hers, cushioning her head with one of his hands. His other hand quickly resumes its previous position on her breast for which she is immensely grateful. Dany loves how he doesn't seem to tire of touching her, lavishing her breasts with attention, making her breathless with need and want and lust.
Her head spins, as much from the delicious feelings Jorah’s kisses and touch, his closeness, evoke as from the utter strangeness of this night. How did she get from having a terrible nightmare, to being awoken and consoled by her friend, to kissing and touching said friend, to finally knowing he feels so much more than friendship for her? Earlier she came to the realization that she wants and needs Jorah in her life, cannot even begin to fathom it without her bear by her side. That much she knows. But what about taking him as her lover? She knows without a shadow of a doubt that she desires him. Her body’s strong reaction to him - she is almost embarrassingly wet from just a few kisses - is evidence of that. However, is she ready to love again when her husband, her Sun and Stars, has not even been dead much longer than a moon’s turn?
Before she has time to search her heart for the answer to this question, Jorah’s lips find a sensitive spot on her neck, while simultaneously pinching her nipple just so, and she can’t stop the low moan escaping her throat and the upward thrust of her hips, instinctively searching for friction. Her bear takes this as an invitation and slowly, but firmly presses her hips into the floor, grinding himself against her, his hard length unmistakable, rubbing against her in all the right places, and Dany knows her earlier question is irrelevant now. She is no longer the blushing maiden who was married off by her brother, and she knows there is no stopping this now that Jorah is so obviously aroused and hard for her.
Without hesitation, she reaches for the laces of his breeches. Jorah lifts his hips and she thinks it's to help her remove the layers of clothing covering his manhood, so it comes as a complete shock when he moves out of her grasp and rolls to her side, out of reach of her hands. Surprise does not even begin to describe the swirling depth of her emotions and as her eyes move up to meet his, she finds him looking at her, love, lust and desire still clearly written on his face, but he shakes his head, as much to clear it as to stop her.
“No, Daenerys. This is not....” He trails off. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. We do not have to do this.”
“You do not want me?” She hates how broken and small her voice sounds.
“No! Of cousre, I do! I cannot count the times I dreamt about this, being undressed by you, touched by you, desired by you.” He blushes slightly at this confession. “I want you, Daenerys. Be very sure of that. I chose to swear my allegiance to you, to become blood of your blood, to give you my sword, and my heart. I want to make sure you have that same choice. That you can decide of your own free will and do not feel any sort of obligation towards me. I chose you. And I want you to have that same choice.”