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mirrorwitches) wrote2023-07-12 01:17 pm
mirrorwitches) wrote2023-07-12 01:17 pm
(hotd) no democracy, chapter nine
NO DEMOCRACY, CHAPTER NINE
🐉masterpost🐉
When Daemon enters Rhaenyra’s chambers from the secret way—after the day he gave her his second set of birthday gifts and they spent so many hours secluded together enjoying them, it’s best that for several weeks he at least appear to make himself scarce—he immediately hears a worrying yelp.
Tracking it to his source he finds Rhaenyra sprawled on her side on the rug before the hearth in his first gift—the crimson gown—with the second—the cock—lying likewise.
He comes to stand before her, lips twitching as he watches her push herself to a sitting position with her hands, grumbling to herself. He is going to tease her—need help? I thought you wanted me to fuck you, not some ivory cock? Was baby empty?—but then it goes through him with a pang, what she was probably trying to do, attempting to present an alluring tableau for Daemon to enjoy, spoiled by the fact it’s hard to keep the damn thing upright.
Luckily, now uncle is here to help. With the toe of his boot, he pops the toppled phallus upright and then braces it between his feet. “Come on then. I want to see my gorgeous girl bounce on this cock.”
Rhaenyra shakes her hair back from her face and comes over on her knees. She grips his thighs for balance as she lowers herself down. She presses her face to his crotch and breathes deep for a moment before glancing up at him through her lashes. He strokes her cheek with the back of one gloved hand. He goes to draw it off so he can trace her open pink mouth with his hand but she breathes, “No,” with dark eyes. He thumbs her bottom lip and then fills her mouth with leather.
She fucks herself slowly, then faster, drooling around his glove, but the muffled noises emerging around the leather massaging her tongue turn pained as she picks up speed. He sees Rhaenyra’s balance wobble as she takes her hands from his thighs to cup her throbbing breasts.
“I like to see those fat little tits bounce,” Daemon says, removing himself from her mouth.
“They’re sore,” Rhaenyra says, but she takes her hands away so he can enjoy watching her breasts, heavier now, heave under the wispy fabric. Fuck, he wishes he was hard. He wants to be in her throat, that tight wet channel that he isn’t barred from, thinking of the echoing vise of her cunt on the cock he’s gifted her. “Finally you have something to see. They are getting bigger, aren’t they?”
She sounds excited. He smiles down at her, running his gloved palm over her head, and she beams back up at him. “I actually prefer small tits, you know.”
“Oh. Really?” Her obvious pleasure gives way to a frown. “Sorry to disappoint you then.”
Daemon kneels before her, slides his gloved hands under the neck of the gown to hold the lovely weight of her in his palms as she pushes herself up until only the head of the cock is in her and screws back down with a whimper, both of their eyes on the leather squeezing her swollen flesh tighter so it bulges around his fingers, as he swipes a thumb across one of her sensitive nipples. “The baby just has your body confused. It thinks these sweet tits are for feeding babes, but they aren’t. They’re uncle’s perfect handfuls. Don’t worry. It’ll only help them so much, divine little tits perfect for my mouth too—”
He sucks her nipple onto his tongue, tries to cram as much of her breast into his mouth as possible as she keens above him. It’s not as much as he’d like. His true ideal is even smaller—he’d loved Mysaria’s tits, fuck, he just knows from the way she loves to suck at him that Rhaenyra knows the joy of an entire tit in your mouth. Or Rhaenyra’s as they’d been when she’d stripped before him on Dragonstone at five-and-ten. His nobility had lost him that joy, but it’s alright. His niece didn’t need to know. Tits are tits, and Rhaenyra is Rhaenyra, and his tiny baby would be his tiny baby forever.
“I think Alicent’s are bigger after Gwenys,” Rhaenyra gasps. Daemon removes her tit from his mouth and grins at her while she goes pink, pink as the damp, stiff little bud he twists between two fingers.
“I see you’ve made good use of two of my gifts. What about the third?” Daemon puts his hand to her cunt, fingers delineating how stuffed full she is there, the heat of her pulsing clit searing even through the glove. Petting her clit with one hand, toying her nipple with the other, he talks her over the edge. “Are you stuffed full in both holes, baby, is that what you needed—”
“Fuck me, uncle, please, my hole is ready for you, it needs to be fucked, please,” she cries out as she collapses. He eases her back onto the carpet, tugs the cock out of her with a wet pop. Her cunt fucked open, the plug buried in her ass beneath it.
“Do you think it is?” he asks with a kiss to her knee. “Is our hole ready to be fucked?”
“It is, it is,” she slurs, come-drunk, grabbing at him as he rises to quickly strip out of his clothes and retrieve the straps that will enable him to fuck her like she needs, the oil from the side table where it waits, having already been used by Rhaenyra to plug herself.
She has propped herself up on her elbows when comes back and bites her lip as he eases a pillow taken from the couch under her hips. “Oh, tonight, if you—we can wait…”
“I don’t think you can. It needs to be fucked, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but—we made it nice for us. I want you to feel good,” Rhaenyra protests. “I want you to get to enjoy it, my tight hole all ready for you, I wish I could make you understand that, how much I want it, how much I want all my holes to make you feel so good all the time—”
He knows that. It fills him with pleasure, fills him with guilt. She likes being used, and he likes using her, burying his cock in his niece and fucking her perfect body to make him feel good. But, sometimes…
“It’s nice to not have to think about my cock,” he says, tightening the straps around his hips: he remembers, from helping Saera do it, Mysaria do it. The shame burns through him, worse for how easy the force of his desire makes it to push past it. Another man would die rather than endure such an indignity. But that was true of much that Daemon had experienced. And yet here he was. “Tonight, we won’t think about your cunt, or my cock—”
“But you’ll still fuck me so good,” Rhaenyra strokes her hand down his arm, drops kisses on his shoulder, and then pulls him on top of her. They kiss as the cock in its slot slides against her belly, still wet from her body.
Daemon moves back. “Put your hands under your knees. Hold yourself open for me.” She does, blushing as she is bared to him. He works the plug out of her. The little gape is nothing to what he’s about to do to this hole. He sets the oiled head of the cock to her rim. It kisses it sweetly, but he holds his breath as he watches it stretch a bit around it, a new kind of blunt heft rather than the slow entrance of the steadily widening plug. “Remember, it can’t hurt. This hole has to want it, it doesn’t want to get fucked just so uncle can fuck a nice baby for your daddy into you, it wants to get fucked because it wants it, no other reason—no,” he snaps as the head pops in and sits straining her channel apart and the foot of her right leg hits the rug with the removal of her hand under her knee, reallocated so her fingers can rub at her clit. “Hands under your knees.”
Rhaenyra obeys, whimpering with need. “But—uncle—”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, it feels so good, fuck, I want—”
“What feels good? It’s not your cunt. We aren’t worried about that tonight. Tell me what feels good.”
“My ass,” she whispers.
“That’s right. And why does your ass feel good?”
“Because you’re fucking it.”
“Not quite. That’s just the tip, and look at you. Look at that jealous cunt. What a cunt, what a typical cunt, weeping, moaning, demanding attention—”
“It knows how good it feels, being fucked, but it can’t, it’s not it’s turn, it has to wait—”
She’s slick all down her thighs, her neglected pussy gasping as he withdraws from the hole below it just to enjoy again the moment where her ass opens to him. He would have all of her, even here.
Despite the weeks of training, she’s still tight. Daemon finds the slight distance of fucking her with a cock not of his body thrilling. He can’t feel it, that incredible heat snug around him, but it is almost as if he can, as he watches her reddening rim strain around it. His body remembers, his own ass seems to bloom open, layers of memory—he’d been Rhaenyra’s age, no, younger now since her birthday, when, just like this, his aunt pushed carefully past that ring of muscle with a cock like the one he’s using now, like the one she’d sent him so he could fuck his baby whenever she needed, he’d been a fucking baby, gazing up at her worshipfully with his wet eyes and soft cock and when he’d tugged at it in frustration she said don’t worry about that useless thing, I’m in your ass, that’s what feels so good, puppy, your ass getting fucked, and in turn remembering being a baby, his body torn open—
He massages the space between her cunt and asshole with his thumb so her eyes roll up and her legs jerk in their hold and she goes a bit looser so he can get that much deeper.
“It feels so good, doesn’t it,” he says. “I know you’re a baby, here—such a big brave girl out there, such a queen, and here you are my baby, but would you, sometime, would you—fuck me—”
Rhaenyra’s eyes snap open. “Really?” she says rapturously. “Can I, please? Mysaria said—I didn’t want to ask, maybe you didn’t want to, with me—”
He bestows a swift slap on her flank. “I’m going to have to punish you anyway, even though you haven’t lied about this hole feeling good, for not asking. You should always ask.”
She laughs. “Can I fuck you, uncle? Please, please can I fuck your ass, gods, fuck, please—”
Daemon knocks her hands away so he can take over, his hands under knees pressing her legs up toward her chest. He shifts so he’s fucking down into her with hard thrusts of his hips and they moan at the same time, and he thinks they’re remembering the same thing—he likes to think he’d gotten her pregnant that night at Harrenhal when she died and came back to life under him, carrying the new life they’d made in her, and the timing does line up, but of course he’d fucked her full of his seed on the following nights as they threw themselves into making a baby and he’d fucked her like this, driving deep down toward her womb, creaming her so full it overflowed around his cock.
“Play with your tits but don’t you dare touch that cunt,” he commands.
She pinches and tugs at her nipples but her eyes well up in frustration. “I need to come, uncle, you’re fucking our hole s-so good and I need to come—”
“You aren’t touching that cunt with me until it’s given us a baby,” Daemon decides in a vow that he wonders if either of them can keep. “If you want to come you are going to have to learn to come from the hole that’s making you feel good—”
“What??” Rhaenyra says in distress.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get a lot of practice. You said you wanted to make me feel good and I can feel how good this ass is, fuck, next time I get hard I’m coming to find you, I don’t care if you’re at council or leering at Lady Strong’s milk-swollen tits or with Mysaria fist deep in you, you’re going to bend over and let me fuck this hole until I feel good, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, yes, but I want to come, uncle—”
With a pout at him her hand slides downward across her belly in a blatant taunt and he grips her wrists in his hand and pins them above her head, fucks into her long and slow, kissing her hard as she wails, unable to resist getting as close to her as possible although the way their bodies slip against each other with her clit trapped between might provide a cheat.
“You know what to say if you want your king to make you come, isn’t that right—”
“Uncle, uncle, I’m going to fuck you and not touch your stupid cock once, I’m just going to fuck your ass as much as I like and see how you like it, you can come from me in your ass or not at all—”
“You’re going to fuck me so good, aren’t you—”
“I’m going to fuck you pregnant,” Rhaenyra insists, rubbing her belly against his own and Daemon swears. He feels a swell beyond what the still flat plane of his niece’s stomach should warrant and pulls back to see the shape of his borrowed cock deep in her guts like he promised bulging through the skin.
“Fuck, Rhaenyra, baby, look,” Daemon says, and she lifts her head, dropped back onto the carpet, weakened by her frustrated orgasm to look down at her distended abdomen with a groan.
Daemon puts his hand over her belly. It cups the whole thing: him inside her, their baby in her, both together and held under his hand.
“You’re in me,” she says deliriously, “you’re both in me, nice and safe, wait, it’s not hurting her, is it—”
“No,” he says with a smile. “You’ve got enough room in this little belly for us both right now. Side by side.”
“I need to come, uncle. I need to come really badly,” she whimpers, “it hurts really bad, my hole feels so good it hurts not to come—”
In this way, Rhaenyra on edge but unable to orgasm with her clit neglected, Daemon able to fuck her without worrying about the demands of his own body, they might be able to do this forever. But he’s finding it harder to move, because his own plumping cock is asserting itself, vying for room.
He pulls out of her slowly. Her hole looks raw and tender. He fumbles with the straps and frees himself, heart beating hard against his ribs in want. Rhaenyra moves her hands back under her knees and holds herself open for him.
Daemon slicks his cock up. When he puts it to her hole it’s hot, throbbing, and his hips hitch forward without his conscious will past her slackened rim, a searing seal around him. Gods above, she’s still so tight, and yet so open, as he fuck into her and her strained body takes him. Her heart beats around him, fast, the pulses of her blood pumping squeezing his cock. She winds her hand in his hair and holds him to her breast and he licks and sucks on her nipples as he sheathes himself entirely inside her ass, crams himself as far as he can go—no matter what it feels like, in her cunt the entrance of her womb means he’s never quite balls deep, not like this, totally enveloped—thinking that maybe next time, she’ll be a little girl, just flowered, with bee-sting tits and he can’t get her pregnant yet, can’t take her maidenhead, and then he realizes he’s said this aloud when she says yes, uncle, so you’ll have to fuck my little baby asshole, my other special, special place, instead—
“Is it—it’s not too much, is it,” he chokes out.
“Never, never, you’re never too much, don't you feel how good it feels? It was made to be fucked by you, made to make you feel good, I want you to come, and then you’re going to fuck me again and again no matter how many times it takes until I come from just you fucking this hole, uncle, please—”
He withdraws all the way, and he only gets the head of his cock in her ass again before he’s coming inside her, his vision whiting out. Daemon licks her clean, slurps himself up out of the aching knot of her gratefully. When he draws her into his arms he feels how her entire body vibrates, on fire with the denied need for release.
“Are you sure you don’t need to come, baby?” His fingers itch with the sudden, overwhelming need to make her come, to exact this evidence of her enjoyment. His hand drifts down her body without thinking before she stops him, grabbing his wrist and bringing their joined hands to rest on her belly.
“Mm. No. I’m all buzzy. It’s nice, and I’m going to come making you feel good, with my ass making me feel so good, and without my poor, hardworking cunt having to do anything.”
🐉masterpost🐉
When Daemon enters Rhaenyra’s chambers from the secret way—after the day he gave her his second set of birthday gifts and they spent so many hours secluded together enjoying them, it’s best that for several weeks he at least appear to make himself scarce—he immediately hears a worrying yelp.
Tracking it to his source he finds Rhaenyra sprawled on her side on the rug before the hearth in his first gift—the crimson gown—with the second—the cock—lying likewise.
He comes to stand before her, lips twitching as he watches her push herself to a sitting position with her hands, grumbling to herself. He is going to tease her—need help? I thought you wanted me to fuck you, not some ivory cock? Was baby empty?—but then it goes through him with a pang, what she was probably trying to do, attempting to present an alluring tableau for Daemon to enjoy, spoiled by the fact it’s hard to keep the damn thing upright.
Luckily, now uncle is here to help. With the toe of his boot, he pops the toppled phallus upright and then braces it between his feet. “Come on then. I want to see my gorgeous girl bounce on this cock.”
Rhaenyra shakes her hair back from her face and comes over on her knees. She grips his thighs for balance as she lowers herself down. She presses her face to his crotch and breathes deep for a moment before glancing up at him through her lashes. He strokes her cheek with the back of one gloved hand. He goes to draw it off so he can trace her open pink mouth with his hand but she breathes, “No,” with dark eyes. He thumbs her bottom lip and then fills her mouth with leather.
She fucks herself slowly, then faster, drooling around his glove, but the muffled noises emerging around the leather massaging her tongue turn pained as she picks up speed. He sees Rhaenyra’s balance wobble as she takes her hands from his thighs to cup her throbbing breasts.
“I like to see those fat little tits bounce,” Daemon says, removing himself from her mouth.
“They’re sore,” Rhaenyra says, but she takes her hands away so he can enjoy watching her breasts, heavier now, heave under the wispy fabric. Fuck, he wishes he was hard. He wants to be in her throat, that tight wet channel that he isn’t barred from, thinking of the echoing vise of her cunt on the cock he’s gifted her. “Finally you have something to see. They are getting bigger, aren’t they?”
She sounds excited. He smiles down at her, running his gloved palm over her head, and she beams back up at him. “I actually prefer small tits, you know.”
“Oh. Really?” Her obvious pleasure gives way to a frown. “Sorry to disappoint you then.”
Daemon kneels before her, slides his gloved hands under the neck of the gown to hold the lovely weight of her in his palms as she pushes herself up until only the head of the cock is in her and screws back down with a whimper, both of their eyes on the leather squeezing her swollen flesh tighter so it bulges around his fingers, as he swipes a thumb across one of her sensitive nipples. “The baby just has your body confused. It thinks these sweet tits are for feeding babes, but they aren’t. They’re uncle’s perfect handfuls. Don’t worry. It’ll only help them so much, divine little tits perfect for my mouth too—”
He sucks her nipple onto his tongue, tries to cram as much of her breast into his mouth as possible as she keens above him. It’s not as much as he’d like. His true ideal is even smaller—he’d loved Mysaria’s tits, fuck, he just knows from the way she loves to suck at him that Rhaenyra knows the joy of an entire tit in your mouth. Or Rhaenyra’s as they’d been when she’d stripped before him on Dragonstone at five-and-ten. His nobility had lost him that joy, but it’s alright. His niece didn’t need to know. Tits are tits, and Rhaenyra is Rhaenyra, and his tiny baby would be his tiny baby forever.
“I think Alicent’s are bigger after Gwenys,” Rhaenyra gasps. Daemon removes her tit from his mouth and grins at her while she goes pink, pink as the damp, stiff little bud he twists between two fingers.
“I see you’ve made good use of two of my gifts. What about the third?” Daemon puts his hand to her cunt, fingers delineating how stuffed full she is there, the heat of her pulsing clit searing even through the glove. Petting her clit with one hand, toying her nipple with the other, he talks her over the edge. “Are you stuffed full in both holes, baby, is that what you needed—”
“Fuck me, uncle, please, my hole is ready for you, it needs to be fucked, please,” she cries out as she collapses. He eases her back onto the carpet, tugs the cock out of her with a wet pop. Her cunt fucked open, the plug buried in her ass beneath it.
“Do you think it is?” he asks with a kiss to her knee. “Is our hole ready to be fucked?”
“It is, it is,” she slurs, come-drunk, grabbing at him as he rises to quickly strip out of his clothes and retrieve the straps that will enable him to fuck her like she needs, the oil from the side table where it waits, having already been used by Rhaenyra to plug herself.
She has propped herself up on her elbows when comes back and bites her lip as he eases a pillow taken from the couch under her hips. “Oh, tonight, if you—we can wait…”
“I don’t think you can. It needs to be fucked, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but—we made it nice for us. I want you to feel good,” Rhaenyra protests. “I want you to get to enjoy it, my tight hole all ready for you, I wish I could make you understand that, how much I want it, how much I want all my holes to make you feel so good all the time—”
He knows that. It fills him with pleasure, fills him with guilt. She likes being used, and he likes using her, burying his cock in his niece and fucking her perfect body to make him feel good. But, sometimes…
“It’s nice to not have to think about my cock,” he says, tightening the straps around his hips: he remembers, from helping Saera do it, Mysaria do it. The shame burns through him, worse for how easy the force of his desire makes it to push past it. Another man would die rather than endure such an indignity. But that was true of much that Daemon had experienced. And yet here he was. “Tonight, we won’t think about your cunt, or my cock—”
“But you’ll still fuck me so good,” Rhaenyra strokes her hand down his arm, drops kisses on his shoulder, and then pulls him on top of her. They kiss as the cock in its slot slides against her belly, still wet from her body.
Daemon moves back. “Put your hands under your knees. Hold yourself open for me.” She does, blushing as she is bared to him. He works the plug out of her. The little gape is nothing to what he’s about to do to this hole. He sets the oiled head of the cock to her rim. It kisses it sweetly, but he holds his breath as he watches it stretch a bit around it, a new kind of blunt heft rather than the slow entrance of the steadily widening plug. “Remember, it can’t hurt. This hole has to want it, it doesn’t want to get fucked just so uncle can fuck a nice baby for your daddy into you, it wants to get fucked because it wants it, no other reason—no,” he snaps as the head pops in and sits straining her channel apart and the foot of her right leg hits the rug with the removal of her hand under her knee, reallocated so her fingers can rub at her clit. “Hands under your knees.”
Rhaenyra obeys, whimpering with need. “But—uncle—”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, it feels so good, fuck, I want—”
“What feels good? It’s not your cunt. We aren’t worried about that tonight. Tell me what feels good.”
“My ass,” she whispers.
“That’s right. And why does your ass feel good?”
“Because you’re fucking it.”
“Not quite. That’s just the tip, and look at you. Look at that jealous cunt. What a cunt, what a typical cunt, weeping, moaning, demanding attention—”
“It knows how good it feels, being fucked, but it can’t, it’s not it’s turn, it has to wait—”
She’s slick all down her thighs, her neglected pussy gasping as he withdraws from the hole below it just to enjoy again the moment where her ass opens to him. He would have all of her, even here.
Despite the weeks of training, she’s still tight. Daemon finds the slight distance of fucking her with a cock not of his body thrilling. He can’t feel it, that incredible heat snug around him, but it is almost as if he can, as he watches her reddening rim strain around it. His body remembers, his own ass seems to bloom open, layers of memory—he’d been Rhaenyra’s age, no, younger now since her birthday, when, just like this, his aunt pushed carefully past that ring of muscle with a cock like the one he’s using now, like the one she’d sent him so he could fuck his baby whenever she needed, he’d been a fucking baby, gazing up at her worshipfully with his wet eyes and soft cock and when he’d tugged at it in frustration she said don’t worry about that useless thing, I’m in your ass, that’s what feels so good, puppy, your ass getting fucked, and in turn remembering being a baby, his body torn open—
He massages the space between her cunt and asshole with his thumb so her eyes roll up and her legs jerk in their hold and she goes a bit looser so he can get that much deeper.
“It feels so good, doesn’t it,” he says. “I know you’re a baby, here—such a big brave girl out there, such a queen, and here you are my baby, but would you, sometime, would you—fuck me—”
Rhaenyra’s eyes snap open. “Really?” she says rapturously. “Can I, please? Mysaria said—I didn’t want to ask, maybe you didn’t want to, with me—”
He bestows a swift slap on her flank. “I’m going to have to punish you anyway, even though you haven’t lied about this hole feeling good, for not asking. You should always ask.”
She laughs. “Can I fuck you, uncle? Please, please can I fuck your ass, gods, fuck, please—”
Daemon knocks her hands away so he can take over, his hands under knees pressing her legs up toward her chest. He shifts so he’s fucking down into her with hard thrusts of his hips and they moan at the same time, and he thinks they’re remembering the same thing—he likes to think he’d gotten her pregnant that night at Harrenhal when she died and came back to life under him, carrying the new life they’d made in her, and the timing does line up, but of course he’d fucked her full of his seed on the following nights as they threw themselves into making a baby and he’d fucked her like this, driving deep down toward her womb, creaming her so full it overflowed around his cock.
“Play with your tits but don’t you dare touch that cunt,” he commands.
She pinches and tugs at her nipples but her eyes well up in frustration. “I need to come, uncle, you’re fucking our hole s-so good and I need to come—”
“You aren’t touching that cunt with me until it’s given us a baby,” Daemon decides in a vow that he wonders if either of them can keep. “If you want to come you are going to have to learn to come from the hole that’s making you feel good—”
“What??” Rhaenyra says in distress.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get a lot of practice. You said you wanted to make me feel good and I can feel how good this ass is, fuck, next time I get hard I’m coming to find you, I don’t care if you’re at council or leering at Lady Strong’s milk-swollen tits or with Mysaria fist deep in you, you’re going to bend over and let me fuck this hole until I feel good, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, yes, but I want to come, uncle—”
With a pout at him her hand slides downward across her belly in a blatant taunt and he grips her wrists in his hand and pins them above her head, fucks into her long and slow, kissing her hard as she wails, unable to resist getting as close to her as possible although the way their bodies slip against each other with her clit trapped between might provide a cheat.
“You know what to say if you want your king to make you come, isn’t that right—”
“Uncle, uncle, I’m going to fuck you and not touch your stupid cock once, I’m just going to fuck your ass as much as I like and see how you like it, you can come from me in your ass or not at all—”
“You’re going to fuck me so good, aren’t you—”
“I’m going to fuck you pregnant,” Rhaenyra insists, rubbing her belly against his own and Daemon swears. He feels a swell beyond what the still flat plane of his niece’s stomach should warrant and pulls back to see the shape of his borrowed cock deep in her guts like he promised bulging through the skin.
“Fuck, Rhaenyra, baby, look,” Daemon says, and she lifts her head, dropped back onto the carpet, weakened by her frustrated orgasm to look down at her distended abdomen with a groan.
Daemon puts his hand over her belly. It cups the whole thing: him inside her, their baby in her, both together and held under his hand.
“You’re in me,” she says deliriously, “you’re both in me, nice and safe, wait, it’s not hurting her, is it—”
“No,” he says with a smile. “You’ve got enough room in this little belly for us both right now. Side by side.”
“I need to come, uncle. I need to come really badly,” she whimpers, “it hurts really bad, my hole feels so good it hurts not to come—”
In this way, Rhaenyra on edge but unable to orgasm with her clit neglected, Daemon able to fuck her without worrying about the demands of his own body, they might be able to do this forever. But he’s finding it harder to move, because his own plumping cock is asserting itself, vying for room.
He pulls out of her slowly. Her hole looks raw and tender. He fumbles with the straps and frees himself, heart beating hard against his ribs in want. Rhaenyra moves her hands back under her knees and holds herself open for him.
Daemon slicks his cock up. When he puts it to her hole it’s hot, throbbing, and his hips hitch forward without his conscious will past her slackened rim, a searing seal around him. Gods above, she’s still so tight, and yet so open, as he fuck into her and her strained body takes him. Her heart beats around him, fast, the pulses of her blood pumping squeezing his cock. She winds her hand in his hair and holds him to her breast and he licks and sucks on her nipples as he sheathes himself entirely inside her ass, crams himself as far as he can go—no matter what it feels like, in her cunt the entrance of her womb means he’s never quite balls deep, not like this, totally enveloped—thinking that maybe next time, she’ll be a little girl, just flowered, with bee-sting tits and he can’t get her pregnant yet, can’t take her maidenhead, and then he realizes he’s said this aloud when she says yes, uncle, so you’ll have to fuck my little baby asshole, my other special, special place, instead—
“Is it—it’s not too much, is it,” he chokes out.
“Never, never, you’re never too much, don't you feel how good it feels? It was made to be fucked by you, made to make you feel good, I want you to come, and then you’re going to fuck me again and again no matter how many times it takes until I come from just you fucking this hole, uncle, please—”
He withdraws all the way, and he only gets the head of his cock in her ass again before he’s coming inside her, his vision whiting out. Daemon licks her clean, slurps himself up out of the aching knot of her gratefully. When he draws her into his arms he feels how her entire body vibrates, on fire with the denied need for release.
“Are you sure you don’t need to come, baby?” His fingers itch with the sudden, overwhelming need to make her come, to exact this evidence of her enjoyment. His hand drifts down her body without thinking before she stops him, grabbing his wrist and bringing their joined hands to rest on her belly.
“Mm. No. I’m all buzzy. It’s nice, and I’m going to come making you feel good, with my ass making me feel so good, and without my poor, hardworking cunt having to do anything.”