Although they'd never spoken after he'd taken his crown, Jon knew Robb and knew that his brother had never once truly considered the possibility of taking the Iron Throne for himself. He had been raised up as King in the North by his leal bannermen, true, but that had not been something that he'd asked for, no more than Jon had asked for the same. Still, had he set his sights upon it and sent word to House Tyrell asking for their support in the endeavor and more still, perhaps things would have ended differently. Perhaps it would have been Robb abed with her tonight while he froze on the Wall. Northmen like himself had no interest in septs or iron chairs, but Robb had learned much of the southron ways thanks to his mother. All Jon knew of them came from Maester Luwin, his friends and brothers on the Wall, and soon, Margaery herself. It was strange, then, that he might yet need to take it to end the bloodshed; ruling south and north had no appeal to him, but an important question remained: once Cersei Lannister had been deposed, who would rule in her stead?
"That we do." His voice was deceptively soft, breath having hitched sharply in his throat, as his body was filled to brimming with torrent of lust. He needed her, and not just her hand regulating the strength and speed of his stroking, but all of her: he needed the warmth of her kisses as she brushed them against his skin; he needed the softness of her body against his, two forms moulding perfectly neither; and he needed the tightness of her cunt surrounding him, welcoming his arousal and urging him on to release. What she offered now was a fine way to fire up his desire, but he would never truly be sated until he was inside her in some way.
His teeth were exposed by the fierceness of the grin that he presented her, leaning in close so that their foreheads pressed together and their lips hovered less than an inch from one another. He could peer into her eyes and lose himself this way. "My hands would rather be on you than elsewhere, so we're well matched in that regard. Let's leave behind cold iron, then." His grin widens and he erases what gap remains, pressing a searing kiss to her mouth, teeth nipping lightly at her lips as lust slowly begins to overwhelm what sense remains them. Her words bring another smile to his face and his hands release their grip, favoring a gentle caress of his fingers along her cheek. "I know. I would never believe you capable of such a thing, my love. We are one."
Her idea was, unsurprisingly, a good one. Jon hummed in thought, considering Sam for a long moment, brows drawn together in thought. "Perhaps. He was very glad to be going to Oldtown to become a Maester, but... Sam has a sense of duty very much like my own. I have heard rumors of men that went to the Citadel for a time, though, before leaving to do something else with their lives. And it would be one less set of vows he must take." Like most of the brothers of the Night's Watch, Sam had discarded one vow in particular with little care. "I will be separated from the larger portion for a time already," he responded with a gentle shrug of his shoulders, "If I must extend that a little, it will be fine. Lords will always scheme, but this group is loyal enough." Davos would keep them in line.
If Cersei Lannister were to perish in their attempts to safely tear her down from power, Jon would not shed a single tear. He would gladly welcome the destruction of what remained of House Lannister. It was a northern thing, this desire for vengeance upon those who had wronged them, but she deserved no less than utter annihilation for the death and destruction she had wrought upon this kingdom.
This was new, for him. Ygritte had never used her mouth on him. That merely served to heighten his arousal, to know that he still had something new he could experience for the first time with her. His eyes, a black darker than smoke, watched her, eyelids drooping from the lust that tumbled about inside, teeth worrying his bottom lip. The contact between the heated flesh of her tongue and the rigidness of his cock sent sparks of pleasure up the shaft, girth twitching it's approval inside her mouth, and his lips parted as a throaty, ragged groan slid past them, the sensation of being fully inside her mouth nearly as good as being buried within her cunt. His fingers lightly grasped strands of hair as the rest of him trembled with a desire for more.
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"That we do." His voice was deceptively soft, breath having hitched sharply in his throat, as his body was filled to brimming with torrent of lust. He needed her, and not just her hand regulating the strength and speed of his stroking, but all of her: he needed the warmth of her kisses as she brushed them against his skin; he needed the softness of her body against his, two forms moulding perfectly neither; and he needed the tightness of her cunt surrounding him, welcoming his arousal and urging him on to release. What she offered now was a fine way to fire up his desire, but he would never truly be sated until he was inside her in some way.
His teeth were exposed by the fierceness of the grin that he presented her, leaning in close so that their foreheads pressed together and their lips hovered less than an inch from one another. He could peer into her eyes and lose himself this way. "My hands would rather be on you than elsewhere, so we're well matched in that regard. Let's leave behind cold iron, then." His grin widens and he erases what gap remains, pressing a searing kiss to her mouth, teeth nipping lightly at her lips as lust slowly begins to overwhelm what sense remains them. Her words bring another smile to his face and his hands release their grip, favoring a gentle caress of his fingers along her cheek. "I know. I would never believe you capable of such a thing, my love. We are one."
Her idea was, unsurprisingly, a good one. Jon hummed in thought, considering Sam for a long moment, brows drawn together in thought. "Perhaps. He was very glad to be going to Oldtown to become a Maester, but... Sam has a sense of duty very much like my own. I have heard rumors of men that went to the Citadel for a time, though, before leaving to do something else with their lives. And it would be one less set of vows he must take." Like most of the brothers of the Night's Watch, Sam had discarded one vow in particular with little care. "I will be separated from the larger portion for a time already," he responded with a gentle shrug of his shoulders, "If I must extend that a little, it will be fine. Lords will always scheme, but this group is loyal enough." Davos would keep them in line.
If Cersei Lannister were to perish in their attempts to safely tear her down from power, Jon would not shed a single tear. He would gladly welcome the destruction of what remained of House Lannister. It was a northern thing, this desire for vengeance upon those who had wronged them, but she deserved no less than utter annihilation for the death and destruction she had wrought upon this kingdom.
This was new, for him. Ygritte had never used her mouth on him. That merely served to heighten his arousal, to know that he still had something new he could experience for the first time with her. His eyes, a black darker than smoke, watched her, eyelids drooping from the lust that tumbled about inside, teeth worrying his bottom lip. The contact between the heated flesh of her tongue and the rigidness of his cock sent sparks of pleasure up the shaft, girth twitching it's approval inside her mouth, and his lips parted as a throaty, ragged groan slid past them, the sensation of being fully inside her mouth nearly as good as being buried within her cunt. His fingers lightly grasped strands of hair as the rest of him trembled with a desire for more.