It was strange to think that it was not so long ago as all that when he'd been paralyzed by the trauma of his own death; in those days after, he'd been rudderless and without direction, unable to see what laid beyond giving justice to those who had betrayed him. Staying at the Wall was unthinkable after all that had happened, but there had been nowhere else for him to go; now, he rules half of Westeros and cares for the well being of his people almost as much as he cares for Margaery herself. That passion is something else that they share -- a desire to see some good done to the realm, to see stability and a just ruler sit the iron throne. He was not greedy; Jon cared not for the Iron Throne, but it may very well be necessary to take it, at least for a time, to ensure the people of their realm are united.
Jon drank in the breathless whimpers of enjoyment that she let loose, smiling shakily as his eyes watched her with intense fascination. He knew that neither of them would achieve anything approaching gratification like this; they were too close to one another, too wild with desire to find their hands and fingers to be satisfactory, not when they were this close. With each motion, his lust sharpened more, becoming a fine point that pierced through all other thought and needs. His want was growing, slowly becoming incapable of being tamed; already, he could feel his body urging him to pounce on her, to sate both their lust in the best way he knew how. "So you do know what kind of games I have in mind." Under his breath, Jon chuckled softly. Truly, he wouldn't mind losing every time if their games ended like the last one had.
"No," his lips curved into a playful smile and, abruptly, his hands seized hers by the wrists, holding them tight. Jon pressed a soft kiss to each palm. "Else it'd be chains and manacles binding your wrists in place instead of my fingers." There were too many that believed smuggling her out of King's Landing entitled them to some say in her future; Jon had tried to put a stop to it where he could, affording her every luxury that one could afford a guest here, but some men were blind to even the most obvious things. Margaery's future was her own. If she wished to depart for High Garden today, he would send as many men with her as she required to see her safe. Many disagreed might be dissatisfied, but Davos and Tormund both understood, even though they might have handled things differently. "You need not fear on that front." He kissed her palms again and grinned at her. "You are my other half, love. Nothing you will do will make me doubtful or suspicious of you. I can say that with certainty."
From some, that might be a reckless sentiment or foolhardy, but he knew the way their hearts were bound; to doubt her would be to doubt that and that he would not do.
"I could not trust a man that treats his son the way Randall Tarley treated Samwell. I have no intention of asking his aid." Sam still resided in Oldtown. He'd sent a letter to him recently, asking for his advice and for his travel to Winterfell when able, but he'd yet to hear back. Sam was no warrior, but the more people he had that could be trusted to give true council, the better they all were. "As you say," he nodded in agreement, seeing the sense in that. "None will know the Reach near so well as you do. Then I shall go with you. Once the Riverlands are taken, my men would have to wait for our return as it is. I'd feel better knowing that we'd cut off Cersei's reserves before we even think about marching towards King's Landing." It was all fine reasoning, but, in truth, he did not want her far from his side, couldn't let her leave him so soon, especially if, as they suspected, their negotiations would end with a betrothal or a marriage.
Such a statement would have shocked him, once, but he'd conspired to end Mance Rayder in his own tent to keep him and his Free Folk from breaking through the Wall. He saw the sense in what she proposed. "Cersei is not warrior, either. She will not march into battle. There are crimes for her to answer to. If we could find someway to seize her and drag her from the city in secret, then we'd win. She has no other allies with the power to hold King's Landing." And once they had her, she could be tried for her crimes.
Politics ceased mattering a moment later. His skin prickled at the sound of her gasping, a pleased smile settling on to his face, just before he made a very similar sound, soft and sudden, as her fingers closed around his cock. When she broke their kiss, he nearly chased it, eyes gleaming with desire in the firelight, teeth gently chewing on his lower lip once he noticed her pulling further away. A shiver of anticipation slammed into him as realization dawn and the heat that blazed inside him, reflected in his gaze, seemed to become amplified several fold. He held his breath without realizing it and shuddered, the sight of her wetting her lips as arousing as any kiss or touch, fingers tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear in that moment just before her lips slid past the head of his cock.
His legs tensed and he moaned her name loudly as the wet heat of her mouth enveloped him, head rolling back for a moment before he returned to level a hungry gaze on her eyes.
no subject
Jon drank in the breathless whimpers of enjoyment that she let loose, smiling shakily as his eyes watched her with intense fascination. He knew that neither of them would achieve anything approaching gratification like this; they were too close to one another, too wild with desire to find their hands and fingers to be satisfactory, not when they were this close. With each motion, his lust sharpened more, becoming a fine point that pierced through all other thought and needs. His want was growing, slowly becoming incapable of being tamed; already, he could feel his body urging him to pounce on her, to sate both their lust in the best way he knew how. "So you do know what kind of games I have in mind." Under his breath, Jon chuckled softly. Truly, he wouldn't mind losing every time if their games ended like the last one had.
"No," his lips curved into a playful smile and, abruptly, his hands seized hers by the wrists, holding them tight. Jon pressed a soft kiss to each palm. "Else it'd be chains and manacles binding your wrists in place instead of my fingers." There were too many that believed smuggling her out of King's Landing entitled them to some say in her future; Jon had tried to put a stop to it where he could, affording her every luxury that one could afford a guest here, but some men were blind to even the most obvious things. Margaery's future was her own. If she wished to depart for High Garden today, he would send as many men with her as she required to see her safe. Many disagreed might be dissatisfied, but Davos and Tormund both understood, even though they might have handled things differently. "You need not fear on that front." He kissed her palms again and grinned at her. "You are my other half, love. Nothing you will do will make me doubtful or suspicious of you. I can say that with certainty."
From some, that might be a reckless sentiment or foolhardy, but he knew the way their hearts were bound; to doubt her would be to doubt that and that he would not do.
"I could not trust a man that treats his son the way Randall Tarley treated Samwell. I have no intention of asking his aid." Sam still resided in Oldtown. He'd sent a letter to him recently, asking for his advice and for his travel to Winterfell when able, but he'd yet to hear back. Sam was no warrior, but the more people he had that could be trusted to give true council, the better they all were. "As you say," he nodded in agreement, seeing the sense in that. "None will know the Reach near so well as you do. Then I shall go with you. Once the Riverlands are taken, my men would have to wait for our return as it is. I'd feel better knowing that we'd cut off Cersei's reserves before we even think about marching towards King's Landing." It was all fine reasoning, but, in truth, he did not want her far from his side, couldn't let her leave him so soon, especially if, as they suspected, their negotiations would end with a betrothal or a marriage.
Such a statement would have shocked him, once, but he'd conspired to end Mance Rayder in his own tent to keep him and his Free Folk from breaking through the Wall. He saw the sense in what she proposed. "Cersei is not warrior, either. She will not march into battle. There are crimes for her to answer to. If we could find someway to seize her and drag her from the city in secret, then we'd win. She has no other allies with the power to hold King's Landing." And once they had her, she could be tried for her crimes.
Politics ceased mattering a moment later. His skin prickled at the sound of her gasping, a pleased smile settling on to his face, just before he made a very similar sound, soft and sudden, as her fingers closed around his cock. When she broke their kiss, he nearly chased it, eyes gleaming with desire in the firelight, teeth gently chewing on his lower lip once he noticed her pulling further away. A shiver of anticipation slammed into him as realization dawn and the heat that blazed inside him, reflected in his gaze, seemed to become amplified several fold. He held his breath without realizing it and shuddered, the sight of her wetting her lips as arousing as any kiss or touch, fingers tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear in that moment just before her lips slid past the head of his cock.
His legs tensed and he moaned her name loudly as the wet heat of her mouth enveloped him, head rolling back for a moment before he returned to level a hungry gaze on her eyes.