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They had all been gathered into the hall by their King, Alicent and her father sitting with their children on one side of the table, while Rhaenyra and Daemon sat at the other side of the table. Rhaenyra was dressed in a black silk gown, embroidered with two scarlet dragons that crawled up her breasts, meeting with the dragon’s maw detailing on the collars, dozens of delicate golden teeth that snaked to the edges of her square neckline. She wore a thick golden necklace, chunky red rubies lying across her pale throat, pulling the chain tight against the back of her neck with its weight, though Rhaenyra would never speak of such petty troubles.
Alicent wore green, a single emerald sunk into her silver necklace. Her house was patterned across every part of her body, from the green soles of her slippers all the way up to her ears, from which silver towers hung. Her dress was a rich and verdant silk, gold interwoven throughout the shoulders and chest. She had two large gold brooches on either side of her neckline, a thin gold chain linking them together. Beneath that sat the seven-pointed star, the gold emblem etched into the silk beneath her chest.
Otto wore similar colours to his daughter, his doublet trimmed with golden flame. He wore an overcoat, black fur erupting about his figure and making him seem larger, more imposing. Daemon wore a black shirt, buckled with silver dragons, simple and shining. His face was a mass of iron, cold and haughty, his blazing glare directed only at Otto. Daemon, as ever, had an axe to grind. He wore no attire of his house. He still kept a dagger at his hip, slim and silver, sheathed in burnished red leather, the pommel inset with a thick ruby.
On the other side of the thick oaken slab were Lucerys and Rhaena, his betrothed, as well as Jacaerys and Baela, sitting beside one another. Joffrey was sat in the centre of the slab, the youngest on the table. The three boys wore shirts of black and red, Joffrey with a trim of red about his collar, while Lucerys had the red dragon of his house sprawled across his chest, tendrils of scarlet running down his sleeves. Jacaerys had full red sleeves, the dragon on his chest larger than his brother’s. Balea and Rhaena wore Velaryon blue on their dresses, scales of silver dotted across the arms and twisting to form two seahorses on their breasts, the eyes thick sapphires that glinted indigo in the flickering candlelight.
To his right sat Helaena, who was playing with the silvery white strands of her flowing hair, twisting and twirling them around her fingers. She wore white, a soft dress that flowed down her stomach, fanning out around her legs in a furl of satin that pooled across the floor. There was gold thread woven through the dress, crisscrossing about her arms and chest like the scales of a dragon.
Aegon had a hand on his sister-wife's thigh, and in the other, he held a cup of wine, upending the goblet of sweet red liquid, curling his face into a soft snarl as he caught the bitter alcohol at the back of his throat. He wore a dark green tunic, so dark it was almost black. His sleeves were trimmed in gold thread, and beneath his collar, he wore a chain, thick knots of twisted gold, small emeralds embedded into the links.
Aemond wore a patch that was as black as a starless night, unadorned with any gold or silver, but the leather itself was of the highest quality, fit for a prince. His scars had faded a little, but the shape the gash had made across his right cheekbone, where Lucerys had taken his eye, still curled his face into a smirk that could just as easily have been a snarl. He wore black, a black tunic and black breeches, his jacket fastened with an emerald brooch at his throat, making him seem taller in his seat.
Viserys staggered in, leaning over and skirting his stick across the stones, moving slowly. Both Rhaenyra and Alicent stood to aid him, but Rhaenyra sat down, letting Alicent rush to her husband, taking his other arm and walking him to his chair. He was pushed towards the table by his Kingsguard knights, Erryk and Arryk Cargyll, both shimmering in their white enamelled armour. Alicent dismissed them, and both knights stood outside the hall, slamming the doors shut behind them.
Viserys found it hard to speak, moaning to himself for a few moments as he found the strength to form the words. “I... I come here for peace. Peace between the two fractured halves of my family. That is why I have prepared a feast of food and flesh for you all, a celebration of what it means to be Targaryen. This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jacaerys and Lucerys, have been betrothed to Baela and Rhaena Velaryon, strengthening the bond between our two ancient houses.” He smiled at Daemon, weakly, showing his missing teeth. “I propose a toast to the young princes, and to their betrothed.” All raised their cups, though Alicent merely gestured her goblet towards Rhaenyra, a tiny motion that most would not notice, least of all Viserys.
“Well done, Jace.” Aegon was already inebriated, his words muddling into one another, his hand heavy as he reached for the boy. “You’ll finally know what it’s like to lie with a woman.” He had a smirk on the edges of his wine-soaked lips. “I assume you know how the act is done? Where to put your cock and all that?”
Jacaerys exhaled, trying to quell his annoyance. “Don’t let his jibes affect you, cousin.” Baela put her hand on his arm.
“You can play the jester with me, uncle, but you will hold your tongue in front of my betrothed.” Aegon sniggered at that, before bringing the goblet back to his lips.
“It gladdens my heart to see you all together, the faces dearest to me. Yet you have all grown so distant from each other in past years, and the thought of my house crumbling after my death is something that pains me more than anything else in this world. Viserys reached around his head, fumbling with the straps of his gilded mask. He groaned as he let the mask fall, toppling off the table and clattering against the stones.
Rhaenyra gasped, and Daemon’s brow furrowed, disgust on his face at seeing how decrepit his brother had become in his absence. Even Joffrey looked queasy. Alicent took Viserys’ hand, reaching down and placing the mask in his lap.
The King’s face was half-dead, his eye having been removed, a black hole sitting where a purple eye had glittered. His skin was mottled with sores, red and raw. He had three teeth on that side of his face, the side where his arm had been taken, the futile attempt to slow his illness. “See me as I am, my children. See me as a brother, a father, a husband.” He smiled sadly at his queen, who had tears in her eyes, blinking them back furiously. “I may not walk among you much longer, and I do not wish for you to hold ill feelings in your hearts. Our line cannot stand tall if we bicker like we have done. I have tried and tried to mend the wounds that still linger, and I ask that you set aside your grievances, just this night. If not for the sake of the crown, then for mine own sake.’ As Viserys finished his speech, he sat back in his chair, wheezing, clutching tight at the mask.
“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen.” Rhaenyra lifted it high. “No one had stood more loyally at my father’s side than Alicent. You have tended to him with devotion and love, and I could not thank you more for your kindness.”
“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess.” Alicent looked at Alicent, her soft emerald eyes meeting Rhaenyra’s soft lavender ones, and something deeper bloomed for a second, making Rhaenyra’s heart flutter, a ghost of old romance flaring up. “We are both mothers, both hold love for our children. I raise this cup to you and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”
Aegon stood next, shaking his empty goblet and looking down at Jacaerys. “I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer, Jacaerys. Marriage is not all your parents may intimate. But if you ever wish to know what it means to be satisfied, I would be happy to help--” There was a thunderous crash as Jace slammed his fist into the table, rattling his plate and cup and silencing Aegon.
He stood, clearing his throat as he now raised his cup. “To... Aegon and Aemond. My uncles, though we have not spoken in years, I hope that as men, we can still be friends and allies. I drink to your health.”
“And I to yours.” Aegon drained his cup, a drop of bloody wine rolling down his chin. Helaena muttered something, moving her husband’s hand away and standing, her cup filled with a sweet Arbor gold. “I would like to toast the princesses Baela and Rhaena. You’ll be married soon. It’s not so bad. Mostly, he just ignores you, except sometimes when he’s drunk.” Even Aemond allowed himself a smile.
“Come, bring the food!” Daemon called out.
The maids brought plates, marching one after the other, a stream of fluttering red dresses. They all came with the first course, a simple bowl of soup, rich and spiced with cloves and ginger, chunks of potatoes and chicken that was so soft it melted in Rhaenyra’s mouth. The next course was venison soaked in a rich wine sauce, and the next was chicken breast, cooked until the skin was crisp and golden. It had been glazed in honey. Then came steaming trout wrapped in fig leaves, the aroma of fish cutting past the lingering sweetness. When the first course of dessert came, Daemon refused to eat, as did Aegon, who was busier drowning himself in cups of spiced wine. Helaena barely ate of her courses, much of it being taken away before the next was served. Alicent ate daintily, as did Rhaenyra, both doing as they had been taught, the noble ways of consumption. Daemon was never one for finesse, and he showed it at the table, tearing the chicken apart with his mouth, his cutlery more decoration than utensil. Alicent fed her husband morsels, a spoonful of each course in between thirsty sups of wine mixed with milk of the poppy, dulling his pain further with drunkenness.
Their first dessert course was cake, sweet sponge topped with sweeter whipped cream. Helaena dug into it joyously, while Aegon picked at his food, swaying a little. Next came a slice of lemon cake, sharp and tangy. Alicent enjoyed the next course, spun sugar crowns that sat atop a thick red jelly, snapping each tip and popping it into her mouth. At this point, most of them had reached their limits. Joffrey couldn’t keep a single spoon down, looking unwell. Rhaenyra was stuffed, and Alicent only crunched the crystalline crown. She gave a single chunk to her husband, wiping his chin with a velvet napkin.
When the feast was done, the candles needed to be relit, so much had they dwindled in the hours of eating. The moon was high in the sky, a milky orb slicing through the cloudy night. Many were too stuffed to stand, and Viserys was weakening a little more, sinking into his seat.
“In the spirit of good will between us all, I command one final act. A great coupling, to solidify the bonds in our house. You may not leave until I say so, until you are spent.” He looked around with a single eye, confident and commanding.
“Husband--” Alicent made a weak protest.
“No! I will make sure this family is bound tight in whatever way I see fit, Alicent. You would not wish to anger me tonight. Now disrobe. All of you.”
There was an uncomfortable quiet, which turned to soft whispers. Alicent was the first, doing her duty as ever. She stood, her breath a quiver as she turned around. “Father, could you help me?”
“Of course.” Otto’s smile was sickly, lecherous, almost excited at the thought of undressing his daughter. His hands were fast at her fastenings, pulling her dress open, showing her soft silk underclothes. Rhaenyra stood also, and Daemon helped her get naked, her gown being draped over the chair, then her undershirt, then her underwear, a pair of white pants that kept the dress away from her skin.
By the time she had been made naked, Alicent was too, both ladies beautiful. Jace stood next, as did Aegon, doing the same, stripping their clothes off while Daemon and Otto did the same, draping tunics and belts and breeches and britches across their respective chairs, or on the floor beneath. All the time, Aemond had his eye on Luke, his snarl now a smile as he stood, taking his clothes off slowly. Luke watched him, while Laena and Baela helped each other out of their clothes, comfortable with their bodies. Heleana was aided by her two brothers, one of whom was far more eager to undress her than the other.
Otto was bashful as he slid his undershirt off, a fuzz of ginger hair across his chest, running down his stomach and across his hips. Daemon’s chest was hairless, his long silver locks falling past his shoulders in soft white waves.
Viserys beckoned Alicent close, his withered hand brushing across her breast. He asked and she did, pulling his chair back and helping the King’s robes away. His cock stood tall and pale, the most alive part of him. “Otto,” Viserys gasped, his eye flicking down to Otto’s growing member. “You are my hand, and I wish you to use yours right now.” Otto couldn’t help but stare at Viserys’ thick member, astonished at the size of his Grace’s girth. He reluctantly knelt by the chair, reaching around and gripping the King’s cock, pumping slowly.
Alicent looked to Rhaenyra, covering her nipples and her cunt in shame, redness running up her neck and forming a soft blush across her soft cheeks. Rhaenyra knew what she was thinking as she stood there, smiling at her husband and leaning in for a kiss. Daemon was always greedy, and his kiss was the same, pulling her into him, his hands hungry to grab at her warm body, groping at her breast, then her waist, then her arse. His fingers knew every part of her, as did his cock, which was now standing to attention, smearing precum across his wife’s pudgy belly, the consequence of her many births. She had never liked the weight she gained after Joffrey’s birth, but Daemon seemed to love her all the same.
Alicent had not been as affected by her births, not physically by any means. She could not help but smile as Aegon kissed his sister, who then turned to let Aemond press his lips to hers. It seemed that her second son loved his sister more, by the passion in his kiss. Aegon was not bothered with Heleana, eyeing his mother while he gently stroked his cock. Alicent slid her hand away from her fiery bush, a touch of wetness on her fingertips. Her nipples swelled, dark gems standing tall on goose-pimpled skin, a shiver running through her, half-lust and half-chill, as a cold wind now touched the edges of the Red Keep. She looked over at Rhaenyra, who was too busy being bent over the table to notice, then back to her son, who was now striding towards her. She reached up, touching his cheek, gently pushing a strand of blonde away from his face before he kissed her.
Jacaerys grabbed Baela’s breast, rubbing a thumb over her nipple, while his other hand was behind her head, brushing against each woven white braid. His lips were hungry, and hers were too, equally wanton in their love for one another. He glanced over at his brother, Joffrey, wondering what the small boy would do. Right now, he looked naked and awkward, his half-hard cock twitching in pure delight at the acts arrayed all around him. His other brother, Lucerys, had Rhaena on the table, his head buried between her slim thighs, making her moan with soft pleasure. He wondered where the boy had learned to do such things, but dismissed all thoughts when Baela knelt at his feet, her soft lips an inch away from his throbbing erection. She slowly opened her mouth, sliding her lips over his length, stopping, then going just a little further before she began to suckle on him, a feeling that weakened Jace at the knees. He reached blindly for the table, grabbing the edge and holding on tight as his cousin pleasured him.
Aemond had always wanted his sister. Not just for duty, something his brother couldn’t even spell, most like, but also for love. He had loved her since they were children, though she had never known. And she had been betrothed to Aegon for as long as he could remember, a pact made in the earliest days of his childhood, before his feelings had risen. But they were there now, and he was too, sitting her in his chair and letting her stroke his manhood, each pump of her hands making his cock twinge in pleasure, seeming to grow harder the more she touched him. She knew more of how to do this than him, but she was happy to please him, it seemed. The girl had been taught well, taught how to stroke like a man did, thanks to Aegon. Aemond knew he was always very particular about his own pleasure, though he took what he could when he had an urge. Every stroke felt the same, and she held him firmly, not squeezing, not tugging, pumping him until Aemond was rock-hard, hot precum rolling down his shaft and over his sister’s pale fingers.
Alicent gasped as her son suckled at her breast, his teeth against her flesh while his tongue flickered against her nipple. She remembered the last time he had done this, when she was barely grown and he was the size of her arm, a large babe who was always hungry. Though she had wet nurses, and a good few of them, she had wanted to do it, to be a mother at least once. But now, she could not be milked, much as he tried. His cock was hard and hot, brushing against her belly. She wanted him in her, grabbing his cock and shifting closer, their bodies touching. He dipped a little deeper, his tip running down through her bush. He inhaled softly at the first contact, the slick heat of her cunt, and she did too, heady with want and grabbing his side. When he slotted his cock into her cunt, she moaned, not that she had meant to, but it was a good sound.
His lips were on hers, the kiss messy, but she helped him, guiding his jaw, guiding his mouth, pushing her tongue into his mouth and tasting the sour wine on his lips, opening wider, her thighs parting further, and he fucked her quicker, bucking up with every thrust. She looked down, seeing her breast redden where his teeth had been, grabbing him tighter and feeling another moan fall from her lips. Her entire body bounced with his vigour, something her husband had never seemed to manage, what with his illness. Some part of her wished this had happened sooner, though the other part, the one filled with righteous devotion, scolded her for such thoughts. She was only doing this for the King, it told her. Only for the King. Not for the feeling of soft lips on hers, or for the feeling of two hands about her, or for how large he was, thicker than his father. Not for those reasons, only for her King.
Otto was unhappy. He was hard, though, hard at the sight of his nude daughter being used, at the soft rumble of sex, the moans and groans, the slaps of flesh on flesh. But he was not involved in such things, having to please his King as he often had. Some part of him hoped he would get something for his troubles, though Viserys was too addled to do anything but sit and watch, being jerked by his Hand.
“Come here, boy.” Daemon called Joffrey to him. Rhaenyra was on the table, bent over it as her son came closer. The boy was too young for such things, but Daemon had obviously decided to show him what a woman looked like. “Look at this,” he said, his hand on her leg, running up and then gripping one cheek in his calloused hand. “This is an arse. Touch it.” Rhaenyra felt another hand join Daemon’s, brushing across her skin. “No, like this.” He guided Joffrey’s hand, making him grab her harder, forcing out a soft gasp.
“There, did you hear that? That’s pleasure.” Daemon eyed the boy’s body slowly, pushing his hands away from his crotch. Daemon’s own cock stood tall, a few inches away from Joffrey’s face, and the thought of what he wanted to do to the boy was too much. He had to steady himself, the need to slot his cock into the boy’s throat making him turn and plunge himself into his wife’s hot cunt, grunting as he fucked her. Rhaenyra pressed her lips to the wood and moaned, her eyes closed.
Rhaena groaned, a highly unladylike thing to do. But she was too lost, Lucerys’ tongue working wonders inside her, their stolen nights together proving to be worth it in this more public setting. They had taught each other about their bodies, and he had taken to learning hers like a Maester and his books. She couldn’t help but rock like a toy horse, pushing her cunt against his face, making her juices drip down his chin when he eventually gave her respite. But respite from her lower lips meant he clambered onto her, sliding both of them onto the table. He paused for a moment, gently moving a candle away before he readied himself, sliding past her dark, slick lips with a smile on his little face.
Aemond was deep in Helaena’s throat now, spittle running from the corners of her mouth and coating her tits. He gave a weak moan as she pulled away from his cock, pulling her in for a quick kiss and running his lips up her pale throat. Aemond stood her up, spinning her around and sitting down, his cock tall, glistening with her saliva. Helaena joined him in his seat, sliding onto him in a single sensual motion. Though her cunt was warm and soft and she rode him slowly, Aemond’s attention was not on her. It was over her shoulder that he looked, at Lucerys wildly fucking his betrothed, her moans the loudest in the room.
Jacaerys’ eyes widened as Baela pumped at his cock, breathing hard. The feel of someone else’s hands on his member was strange to him, and he wasn’t quite used to it. Not that Baela was bad, but she was similarly unskilled in the art of fucking.
Alicent lay back as her son used her, looking over at Rhaenyra as Daemon was deep inside her. Rhaenyra's heavy breasts bounced back and forth in time with Daemon's fucking, a hypnotic motion that made Alicent's loins flare with low pleasure, a deep heat that grew as Aegon sank deep into her cunt, growing the tandem pleasures, her body tightening. Aegon grabbed her breast, bringing her back to him, to his pale violet eyes, to the urgent lust in his curled lip and his fast hips.
Rhaenyra’s thighs quivered, trembling as she climaxed, Daemon sliding slickly out of her and letting her cunt drip, pushing Joffrey forth in the same rough manner he did most things. “Taste it.” He was commanding most of the time, but this was something more, the way he would bark orders to a soldier. Joffrey leaned into his mother’s pussy, tentatively touching his tongue to a droplet and making a face. Daemon scooped him up, and the boy squeaked as he was roughly groped, lifted higher and popped onto his great-uncle's face, where he felt lips against his hole, and something worming its way past, a tongue that made his cock rise.
Rhaenyra, now recovered from her orgasm, dropped off the table and went over to Aegon. “May I?” She asked her younger brother, who grumpily stepped aside to allow the two women some time together. Rhaenyra took Aegon’s place eagerly, her face buried between Alicent’s legs, plunging her tongue deep, remembering how to please her oldest friend, knowing those low, hot sounds from decades ago.
Aegon, pent up with frustration at being jilted from his mother, stroked as he watched his sister being fucked, matching the moves of his hand with the moves of Helaena’s hips, breathing heavily as he pleasured himself. He brushed her face, smiling at her, wanting her cunt. She stepped off him, and Aemond let Aegon sit in the place he had, the chair warm with the heat of his brother’s bare ass against the velvet cushion. His sister’s flesh was flushed red, and Aegon delighted in her lips, groping for her chest in the way he often did. He loved her breasts, and how wet she was, and the way her amethyst eyes sparkled when they locked onto his. She kept riding, the same way she had done for Aemond, but now she offered her chest, letting him suckle on her nipples in the same way he had done when she was leaking milk.
Rhaena called Jacaerys to her, and Baela took Luc, almost dragging him away from her sister, desperate to feel the same thing she had. The younger Velaryon was happy to fuck her, but first, Lucerys pushed her into the chair, kissing her as he searched her body, far more lustful than his brother had been, more comfortable in his fucking, more skilled in his sex. His pale cock was coated in Rhaena’s juices, and it twitched with arousal as he kissed Baela's dark nipple, his tongue leaving a smear of saliva on her chest. One hand was on her thigh, squeezing it, pushing her legs apart. Baela shuddered in anticipation, and she moaned loudly as he slid his tongue into her pink centre.
Jace was being ridden, Rhaena’s strong hands hard across his shoulders, holding him against the chair as she slammed her hips against his, groaning through clenched teeth while she fucked him. She was so wet it was easy for her to take him, and he was soon dripping in her sex, her quick rocking forcing his head up to the ceiling, moaning. Rhaena silenced him with her lips, a sex-soaked kiss that left both panting at the end of it.
Daemon had Joffrey on his back, and both were on the floor, his cock in Daemon’s mouth, hard and small. He pulled his lips up and down the boy’s shaft, a soft groan making his member vibrate. Daemon kissed his tip, licking off a single drop of clear precum, the bitter seed rolling down his throat. His thick hand wrapped itself around Joffrey’s shaft, pumping hard with one hand, while the other was around his own, stroking together.
Lucerys stepped away from his brother’s betrothed, standing. But as he did, he felt a body behind him, a boy whose cock was hot against his back. He couldn’t help but flail as he was lifted by the one-eyed boy, speared up his virgin ass. He gasped, being bent over the back of a chair while his brother watched, too inebriated by Rhaena’s pussy to do much more than stare. Aemond was rough, stronger than the younger boy and exciting in the power he had over the person who had once injured him so many years ago. Every slide left Luc’s ass aching, and he cried out as his hole was used.
Alicent was lost, Rhaenyra’s tongue making her kick and buck. Her hands were flat against the oak, scrabbling. Rhaenyra gently gripped one breast, while the other was beneath her, lifting her cunt against her lips and eating at it with the same merriment that she had when she was served her dessert. When she came, she felt an explosion in her hips, the silent pleasure forcing spurts of liquid from her, spraying Rhaenyra’s face. Gods, it had been so long, she found it hard to breathe, the energy being sapped from her body.
Aemond was grunting, a mad grin stretching his face. He slid deep into Lucerys, up his ass over and over until he finally finished, making a single growl as he spilled his seed into the boy, each twitch forcing another dribble of white from his wrecked hole.
Jacaerys was being pleasured by the twins, one sucking on his cock before passing his spit-soaked rod to the other. He looked across the table, where Helaena opened her mouth to receive Aemond’s softening prick, licking the cum from his tip and playing with him. His aunt was very pretty, but very aloof. Lucerys stumbled to the girls, seed running down his thin thigh, every step an ache in his pulsing ass. His cock was still hard, and so Rhaena detached herself from Jace, running her fingers down his hips, teasing him as she licked his shaft, tasting herself on his cock as she looked up at him, a sultry sensuality in her dark eyes. She held that eye contact as she jumped into his arms, her lips on his before she dropped onto his cock, a stifled sigh passing from her mouth to his. Though Lucerys truly wanted to fuck her there, he felt too weak, having her up on the table and fucking her fast, that first peak of arousal making him slow, taking a breath before he started once more.
Daemon and Rhaenyra surrounded Joffrey, each taking turns kissing or sucking him, before kissing each other. Rhaenyra’s inner lips were soaked in her juices, and when Daemon slid his fingers into her, she clenched against them, sensitive but so aroused she couldn’t help but open her legs for his hand. He moved fast, using her and grinning as she gave a half-sob, overwhelmed. He lay down, and she straddled him, sliding down his length and tensing up in anticipation. Joffrey was busily stroking himself, matching the way his brothers had been doing, licking his lips while he watched his mother ride. She grunted, moaned, her body coiling like a spring before came again, thick legs trembling as she gushed, spilling her pleasure down Daemon’s hips and onto the tiles, deepening the grey stone in her slick. She rolled off her husband, making ragged breaths as she hugged herself. Alicent was there, the heat of her body soothing and soft, and Rhaenyra’s lips were numb with pleasure when they kissed.
Jace was winded, soaked in sex as Baela used her hands and her mouth, the combination making his pleasure sharp, feelings exploding in his hips. His face was red and when he finally finished, he painted Baela’s face in thin strings of white, all the while gasping, his hands cramping with the force of his orgasm, clenching against the edges of the chair. He’d never been pleasured by a woman, and the novelty of her touch made his eruption feel so much sweeter.
Helaena was still fucking Aegon, grabbing her husband’s shoulders as she rocked back and forth. She knew he was close by the way his hands tightened around her waist. She danced her fingers through his white-blonde curls, smiling down at him as he moaned, a choked sound that she knew very well. He finished inside her, heat filling her insides, his grip hard as iron as he held her on top until he was done, shrinking as she was allowed to step away, smiling at the soft warmth of his cum rolling down her inner thigh.
Viserys was moaning, a different kind of moan to the pained noises he had made so often. This was lower and louder, and his cock seemed to inflate as he burst, thick ropes of cum flying up into the air, splattering his robes and Otto’s hand and the table, before he finally weakened, spent and wrecked. His thin lips twisted into something that could have been a smile, though even that seemed to cause him pain, turning into a grimace.
Daemon was jerking Joffrey quickly, and the boy grimaced before he came, shooting his own load across his stomach and his chest, groaning. Daemon stood almost immediately, stroking himself, looking down while his cock bulged. He threw his head back, thrusting forth as he came, spilling his seed onto the boy, his toned stomach and skinny chest coated in cum. The man smiled as he pounced on the boy, sucking the seed off his belly. Rhaenyra kissed her son, licking a strand from his chest and kissing her husband, seed on their lips, sour and bitter and sweet mixing into a cocktail of fantastic flavour. He hungrily sucked more up, and so did Rhaenyra, seed running down their chins as they kissed each other again, then kissed Joffrey, passing his seed into his mouth and letting him taste. He licked it off his fingers, then from his mother’s cheek, smiling. She kissed him once more before going to her boys. Jacaerys had Baela in his lap, stroking her white hair and nuzzling at her neck. Lucerys was still humping his betrothed, pulling Rhaena back against his cock, using her body in his need to finish. Rhaenyra touched his shoulder, and as she did, he opened his mouth silently, pushing himself deeper into the girl as he burst.
Everyone was finished, spent. Some were weak, some had recovered, but all, except Otto, were happy as they found their clothes. Rhaenyra was slow, her body almost too tender for her soft underclothes. Daemon helped her into her dress, smoothing the silk and making sure her hair was somewhat presentable before he pulled his trousers on.