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thekittenqueen) wrote2016-12-17 03:42 pm
thekittenqueen) wrote2016-12-17 03:42 pm
Entry tags:
[Musebox] - Resurrection
Continued from here.
Margaery knew Littlefinger and what he was capable of. The man had the good sense to avoid the former queen and alert her to his presence. He had always been a shrewd figure and likely understood that if Margaery knew he was about, she would likely have several stories to share about him. He was hardly the sort fit to spend time with Sansa and his influence on the young woman was pronounced. There was a quality to her that was no longer as compassionate as before. She was self serving, seeking power with reckless abandon, all with unclear ends. She had a smile now that could not be trusted, seemingly masking thoughts beneath the surface. While Margaery had missed her friend, it was with grim understanding that she recognized that her friend was gone. Someone else had taken her place.
It would take time for Margaery to learn all of the noble lords that served the Starks. Her education had included the make up of each of the bannermen to the great houses of Westeros, but that knowledge had been lost along the line, disappearing like a stone dropping beneath the surface of a pool. There had been greater thinks occupying her mind and, only now, did she realize that she had become lax with her skills for the game.
As much as she didn't want to, she would need to spend time below with the men and the forces of the Stark army. It would grant her the chance to observe and analyze those that gathered about her lover. She could read into the hearts of men and would find the means to learn their motivations, singling out those who could be trusted and those who couldn't. It was dangerous, as all of her scheming had once been, but there was more to lose now. It was no longer her life or her family's, it was a life she shared with another, the other part of her.
She feels the warmth he exudes and curls around it, basking under his affection and the glow of their earlier efforts. Despite the swirling lust, she found herself floating along the surface of bliss and contentment. It had been so long since such feelings coursed through her, for a moment, she had nearly mistaken them for something else. He carries her gently against the tide of her apathy and sorrow, drawing her back under the warm sun until she is thawed and alive once more. His arms shelter her, a tree in the midst of a rainstorm. He is her godswood and she would be devout to him in all ways, worshiping at his feet as they rutted like beasts, drawing their power from a more ancient magic. It was magnetic and addictive, but it was the source of her life now.
She considered his words, curiously trying to put a name to all that she felt. It seemed like a useless struggle, but there was something she wished to know. She was aware he shared the frenzied longing of her body, but there was something else as well, something rooted deeply inside her, past her heart and soul. She was bound to him, but didn't know how best to explain it. "I stir more than your cock, I believe?" Margaery asked, placing her hand over his heart. "It's more than that and I think that it is something..." it wasn't love. The word was paltry and pale compared to this, but how else could it be described? Such names didn't exist on the tongues of man. "Do you understand what it is?" She couldn't go into detail if he didn't. It was something that was simply known.
"Davos," her smile became one of amusement. "I think he is afraid of me or rather, doesn't know how to respond to my presence. I am too much a reminder of Stannis for him." He had at least been polite and kind, as had Tormund, though the Wildling didn't seem to have an idea of how to speak to her or how to behave. She wasn't a shield maiden and she imagined that he didn't want to frighten her off. They had good hearts and she hoped to open hers to them, if it ever truly could be.
"I speak of it because you might have to make the offer yourself." Margaery whispered, running her fingers through his hair. She hated to interrupt their love play with talk of politics and marriages, but there was no other time that they would be alone like this. Her opinion and advice would be dismissed by his men and she would gain their ire for interfering, but at least here, there was no one she would have to argue against. Jon would understand why she was offering it and how she might know better than the rest. She had three politically arranged marriages, after all. "If you make the offer, you will not make them feel as though they have to beg for aid. You are the stronger force with the larger kingdom." It would at least save them face before he flaunted a lover around his court.
Politics were left behind as their urges screamed back to life. Her hips subconsciously rolling against him as she sought the same friction he had wanted before. The stimulation against her sensitive sex bringing soft moans from her lips, as tender and gentle as a dove's coo. "I wouldn't deny you, as I might very well do the same." She was never a woman of such force before, but her body now cried out to be. She wanted to to pull him against a wall, free his cock from his breeches and rut happily for all to see. Modesty and decorum were simple, pretty words for those that didn't know what they wanted or how to enjoy it. She wasn't such a maiden anymore, she was as wild and untamed as he was and the desires they shared demanded immediate attention.
Yet she instead chose to toy with him, forcing him to remain seated and stationary as she explored her body with a cloth. The act of washing herself turning sensual and erotic as she cleaned away the places he marked her with lips, teeth and seed. She was wiping away the slate, indicating he would have to start all over again. "Am I yours?" Margaery asked with a wicked smile. "It seems that there are no signs left that I am." She was playing with fire and longed to be consumed by it, her flames and his inferno, swept up into the maddening blaze until she was burnt and broken by their passions.
He obeys her instructions, much to her chagrin and amusement. Given their earlier efforts, she had imagined he would break right away, but Jon seemed to be a man of remarkable will power. For the sake of pushing the game further, she moved close to him. Turning her back, she offered him the cloth. "You will have to wash where I cannot reach, but you cannot move from your chair or touch anywhere else." This would be enough, she was certain of it. She was pulling a string taught and sooner or later, it would snap in half and the force between them would smother them both.
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With each passing moment, the slowly dwindling distance between them bothered him less and less. That wild desire was rising back up inside him, a maddening lust for her that was not easy to suppress. Not that he'd want to. Her hand guided his, the muscles in his arm growing lax as he let her take the reigns, never touching him directly, but guiding the speed and depth of his strokes; within moments, fluid beaded at the slit near the tip of his cock and his hips started to sway slightly, matching the motion of each jerk with one of their own. Each time he glanced at her, he thought of letting his hand fall away and seeing what she would do. Would she replace his hand with hers? Would she rise up and slowly sink down around her cunt? Or would she lift her rear into the air and entice him to take her? "You're right, of course. There will never be enough chances to sate my desire for you, Margaery, and we can't very well skip every meal." His words were choppy, voice breathless as pleasure rose inside him, making it harder to think with each passing moment. "Well then, I shall challenge you to a game later. One that we have all the rules laid out in advance."
That would only be fair, after all.
"The court may already think so. What do you suppose they'll make of the noises the guards will report to them?" Men would inevitably fail to understand the bond that had come to bind them together; even Davos, as good a man as there was, would not comprehend. All he could do was explain. There was no tempering his need for her; it was instinct now, and instincts could only be held at bay for so long. "Still, they will learn. These men chose to follow me willingly. It will take more than my fucking you to endanger this kingdom." He was not wed, not yet, and if he did marry the Martell girl, they would see to it that everything had it's proper place, that everyone knew what the standings were. "Mmmm, and you're making it harder for me to think about such things when you toy with your tits like that, love." Jon would not delude himself into thinking the ferocity of his desire would abate with time. It would always be there, hot and raw and just as fierce as today.
"That's all we can do. I've not heard rumors of supplies being sent to the Twins, but it's possible such things are being done in secret." He wondered if they were. From what he'd heard, Jaime Lannister himself had to take command of the siege of Riverrun. Would the Lannisters be so eager to send more aid so quickly? Even King's Landing must have suffered a shortage of food, considering the devestation of the war. Might not it all be hoarded there? "I would prefer to wait with our men until they're ready to march. It's important for them to know why their King is not going with them. Enough men will grumble. The going will be slow enough that even if we delay to leave at the same time, we'll arrive in Dorne long before they cross the Neck." White Harbor was not so far, even without the Kingsroad to march down. If it was necessary to strike an alliance with Dorne, then better to be done with it sooner rather than later.
"Then the only way this ends will be with King's Landing under siege. If Cersei Lannister can not be reasoned or negotiated with, we will have no choice but to take her head to end the war." It almost saddened him to think there might not be any other alternative. He wanted to bring destruction and death down on their house, but there had been so much death already, it would have been nice if some other avenue to peace might exist. The armies of the dead were still out there. "We will have to see what comes, then. Right now, we must focus on removing the Freys from power and gaining an alliance with Dorne. How the reign of House Lannisters must be for later. There are still too many plans that must be made first."
A satisfied smile spread across his face, eyes gleaming with the knowledge that they would be together for the rest of their lives. Without questions, their souls were fully intertwined, forged into a single great entity instead of two separate pieces. Whether it was to Dorne or to War or anywhere else in the world, she would never be far from his side. "Yes," he murmured by way of response, fingers stroking the side of her face, thumb tracing the crease of her lips in the moment before he leaned and tried to kiss the breath out her.
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She was losing herself once more to the gnawing desire and lust, feeling her body begin to clamor and cry out for him. It was a lion's roar in her ear, a beast that clawed at her mind and instinct, driving her to become more reckless. She chased that aching need instinctively. Her hand tightened around his, increasing the speed of the strokes once more, her breath now harsh and ragged as she stared back at him with the same wild eyes as before. Her fingers abandoned her breast and slipped between her legs, rubbing that same place that Jon had discover that could make her scream fiercely. She had an idea of what she'd do if his hand fell away or her restraint finally crumbled under the brute strength of her animal lust. "The next round then? It would let us start on even footing." She whispered to him, already imagining what would come after this. Gods be good, but she couldn't picture life outside of her chambers.
Everything she wanted and needed was here.
"Likely what they have suspected already." She wasn't blind, she knew that others believed them to be lovers before. If not lovers, than sharing an inappropriate friendship. Sansa had stopped visiting and seemed indifferent that her friend was in Winterfell. Jon's ministers avoided Margaery's chambers and the maids seemed to look at them intently whenever Jon did visit. "I think many of them will feel validated that they have been proven right. Afterwards, there will be objections. Many will think that my honor has been stolen and that I have lost value as a potential bride for some worthy lord, a man that could help secure more forces and hold the Reach." If this were so, she wondered what would be thought of her if they knew her pastimes in High Garden. She hadn't been a virgin when she married any of her husbands, though sweet Tommen had assumed she was. "I hope you are right. I have seen how quickly kings can rise or fall. I don't want you to be at risk. I'd rather be sent away, as painful as that may be, than put your life and crown in jeopardy."
She had little doubt that Littlefinger and Sansa would seek an advantage in this.
"If it were a large supply, it isn't the sort of thing that can be concealed. With the Reach sacked, I would wager that there are comments every time a caravan departs from High Garden. It isn't like Cersei to be generous, even with those that support her. All that matters is her own ends." A Lannister always paid their debts, but in this case, it wasn't a "debt" in Cersei's eyes, but a duty to the crown. She would beggar the kingdom with that idea, Margaery had no doubts about that. "I know so little about travel from the north. I trust you to estimate the time we need and to do what is best for your men." He had spent more time here and among them as well.
She began to tremble. The thought of King's Landing summoned phantoms in her mind and the memory of the Sept. Even without remembering fully what happened, she could still feel the flames licking at her and the screams of those being ripped apart by the sudden torrent of wildfire. "She knows where the Mad King kept his cache of wild fire. She would burn the city to the ground before surrendering it." Margaery whispered, a haunted look appearing in her eyes. "If you wish to save the lives of the people, she needs to be eliminated quickly. She has no honor, no intent to negotiate or surrender. She would kill everyone before she admits defeat."
The kiss rooted her in the hear and now. Her lips parted for him as more than her breath slipped out of her grasp. That tenuous hold on reason and clarity dissipated all at once. She could only feel the heat of his mouth and the taste of him on her tongue. She pushed his hand away from his cock, stroking him instead as their kiss deepened.
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It was inevitable that his cravings for her would overtake him before too long; desire for her was writ into his bones and his blood now, an elemental part of him that could not be suppressed, stopped, or ignored. His lips parted as she quickened the pace, soft, throaty groans spilling freely as he squirmed about, pleasure swelling like the crackling of a fire. His eyes watched her, a pair of wolf's eyes, dark and hungry, tongue wetting his lips in mute approval as she moved to touch herself as well, her fingers slipping past her dark curls and teasing the overly sensitive spot just above her cunt. Gods. He wanted her so badly then, wanted to tear away her fingers and his and slam his cock inside her, to fuck her brutally hard and fast until they both dissolved into orgasm. "Yes," he whispered back, subtly shifting the grip around his cock, fingertips applying more pressure to the sensitive underside. "Ne-next time. We'll play a game. And I'll win." His lips quirked into a knowing smile; with these games, they'd both win, no matter who won.
And that was exactly what he wanted.
"Not everyone thought that, but it hardly matters now." His Northmen were a suspicious lot, and mistrusted southrons as a rule of thumb, but they were good men. And they knew him. The rumors circulated, true, but Lord Cerwyn had grown up only several days from Winterfell and had often visited. He knew that Jon was not the sort to freely take a lover nor was he likely to shirk his duty. The men and women here knew him. They knew the Starks. What was now spreading across the court had been gossiped about, true, but only idly and not by the most important members of his court. "Some will take issue with it, but you are not our prisoner, Margaery, nor do we have any claim to decide who you must wed. I have reminded certain Lords of that before. I will do so again." He didn't doubt that some would certainly take the chance to spread talk of insult, to say that he had weakened their positioning by taking the Lady of High Garden to bed. "As I said before, alliances do not always require a marriage to be sealed. At best, they'd wed you to one of bannerman's sons. You do not need a wedding to be sealed to our cause. At least, I'd like to believe that you already are." Jon smiled softly. They would find a way through this. "Do not worry. Whatever egos are bruised, we can soothe them by announcing our intention to go to Dorne. I will tell them you convinced me of it."
That ought to give Littlefinger and his sister something to chew on for a while yet.
"She must keep most of it for herself, then. Perhaps in reserve at High Garden. She already controls it, so there'd be no point in moving the extras. No doubt she'll keep an iron grip on it, using it as a way to purchase loyalty and punish traitors." With the Freys controlling the Riverlands, there were few other places that could yield the amount of food that the Reach could. War had left many places short of food, and with the oncoming winter said to be an especially harsh and long one, a stash like the one they'd acquired would go far in assisting with ruling the realm. "When we strike our deal with Dorne, High Garden may very well need to be the first place they attack. If we can cut off their food supply and rally your countrymen, we may stand a better chance." Especially if the Redwynes and their fleet could be counted on. Stannis had nearly taken King's Landing using a fleet and armies and Tyrion Lannister was no longer there. Still, it would be a risky gamble; the enmity between Dorne and the Reach was well known and he did not know if they would love him for setting the Dornish loose into their land.
Jon sighed at her pronouncement. "I had hoped that she might have used up her stores with the Sept, but that was too much to hope, wasn't it? Very well. We must need find a way to avoid a protracted siege. And to take it before she realizes what's happened." It was a tall order. Cersei would have whispers pouring in while they marched towards her. All they could hope to do was defeat her swiftly and surely or find someway to... ensure she fell or fled before the battle could happen. It was a terrible thing to consider, but it might be necessary. It was not the option he would pursue unless there was no other recourse available to him.
Desire swept through him, burning away all other thoughts and concerns, as he felt her fingers replace his, the soft, warm skin of her fingers making him gasp softly against her mouth. Sweeping his tongue along the seam of her lips, Jon gladly welcomed the deepened kiss, plunging inside of her mouth to taste her and to explore. In reciprocation, he draped an arm over her shoulder and traced the curve of her breast with rough, calloused fingers, touch surprisingly delicate. After, he filled his palm with one and gently pinched a tight nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it as he pressed closer, closing any distance that lay between them.
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She smiled at that, breathless whimpers slipping through her parted lips as she let herself drift freely down the pleasure that her gentle touches brought her. She didn't seek gratification, only to build and heighten her lust, to play within her folds and raise her desire to that uncontrollable level it had been before. Perhaps also, to give Jon a show. The way he watched her, she knew he enjoyed seeing this and that it would slowly shift him back towards the primal. It was a dangerous game, but there was no resisting the response it gave either of them. She wanted them to turn to frenzy. "When you win, I win." She murmured, breaking off at the end as she gasped, finding that particular place that he had kissed and sucked moments ago.
"I'm not?" She asked it more in amusement than from actual curiosity. There was a quip on the tip of her tongue, but she thought better of it. He meant it truly and that he was so protective of her was touching. There was little hope for her position and state, all of it was dependent on what the northerners gave her. Yet, she was treated kindly and was allowed more freedom than others might have offered, including her family. They were too shrewd and knew the value of a powerful guest, entirely dependent and incapable of refusing. Instead, Jon treated her better than that. Even before she knew she loved him, she had believed him to be a good man. "I am bound to your cause and I pray I never give you reason to doubt it. Even without this, I would have helped you, Jon. It is what is right."
It was what was right, but also the direction her heart urged her to go. She loved him and would do all in her power to keep his crown and his lands safe.
"Look not to the Tarleys for aid." She murmured, contemplating who might hold control of High Garden as wardens. Her reserves would be heavily protected, but Margaery doubted Cersei had much interest in managing the lands. She would leave that to another, particularly a family that held no great love for the Tyrells. "It may be wise for me to travel with the coalition that go to destroy the reserves. I don't know if I would be enough to rally the bannermen against Cersei, not when it seems a lost cause, but I might be able to at least find other means of reaching the castle. I know my way through the Reach and I know the weaknesses of the men that are serving her now." The Tarleys in particular. She very much wanted to see the turncloaks pay.
She nodded, well aware of how difficult a situation it was. "It was dishonest of him, but Jamie Lannister had managed to prevent a similar tragedy once before when he killed the Mad King. We have no one that may do the same for us." Which may be a shocking statement to such an honorable man, but the reality was that they only had a short amount of time. Once Cersei realized the war was lost, she would destroy the city. That didn't allow much time for a siege. They had few options on how to put an end to her."
She forgot Cersei in an instant when Jon kissed her lips and drew closer to her. His warm hand teased her breast, causing her to arch and gasp as the tender nipple was rolled between his fingers. She shuddered and gentle squeezed his cock, an idea appearing in her mind. With great reluctance, she let go of him and pulled from his kiss. It was a breathless moment, empty and cold after the heat and intensity he brought her. She licked her lips and glanced up at him, holding his gaze as she lowered herself and wrapped her mouth around his cock.
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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.
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Her hand could at least intensify her desires, but it would never satisfy. The ways his eyes held on her made it more than clear. Even the simple caress of his gaze was enough to bring her to the dizzying heights of lust. She was hungry for him and her fingers, while gentle and teasing, couldn't compare. She was struggling as well. Her body screamed for her to pull her hands away and mount him, riding him as fiercely as the wind rattled against the shutters. She wanted to lose her breath in him and to draw him into the depths of her lust. "We share similar ideas." She whispered, more than confident in that.
Her wrists were held tightly by him, doing more to stoke her desire than her own teasing. She smiled, giving a whimper as his lips connected to her palms. "I think I prefer your hands to chains and manacles." They were soft and warm. She was safe in his grasp, even when the ferocity of their passions raised its head. She didn't doubt that he would protect her from those that schemed against her, but her own state was less her concern. She needed to keep him safe from the rumors that her presence could create. "I would never act against you or harm you. It would be like harming myself. You are a part of me."
It hadn't occurred to her that he might know the Tarleys. There had been some rumblings about Randall Tarley passing over his oldest as heir, as well as him being sent to the Wall, but there was little else beyond that. Other matters had occupied her family and she hadn't thought much of her father's bannermen. "If we supplant his father, perhaps Samwell would take his father's seat instead?" They would need someone loyal to them and capable. "Are you certain you should separate from your men so soon?" It needed to be asked, though she had little intention of him remaining behind. If she went to High Garden, she wanted him with her. They had promised to stay together."
It should frighten her how much she wanted Cersei to suffer. She had never been a vengeful or cruel woman, but "Queen" had taken everything from her. Her family, her home, all of it had been destroyed by Cersei. It didn't take much to suspect that Cersei would take more, if she was given the chance. The people of King's Landing meant little to her, she only wanted power.
This wasn't something she did often. It opened up a level of vulnerability and submission that she did not intend to give other men. Jon was different. She craved him, to taste him and please him. Her lips encompassed him fully, drawing his cock further into her mouth. Her tongue traced over him, feeling the hard ridges and the hint of her juices still on his skin. She gripped tightly to his hips, holding him steady and he was pressed fully inside. She could feel him at the back of her throat, her nose brushing against her abdomen. She would need to pull away soon, if only so that she might have his cock inside her once more. This was only furthering her anticipation and hunger.
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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.
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She couldn't wash away the loneliness of his past, but she could ensure that his future was filled with warmth, love and passion. Beyond the hunger, she could complete him and join with him in ways reaching beyond the physical. Just as he melded with the emptiness in her, she knew she could do the same for him. He deserved nothing less than that, and so long as she provided him that link, she would offer it to him completely. That was her purpose now, no longer ambition and calculations, but to give herself completely to the man she was always destined to be with. "Whatever may have happened in the past, it lead us to this moment. I don't wish to ever feel guilt over it. How can I when I have been given you?"
She gave a small growl, matching the fierceness of his grin. Her eyes glimmered with heat, stoked back to life like a dying fire. She nipped at him in return, they were playing like wolves, biting and growling at one another. It was leading up to a coupling that she knew would transcend all the rest. Her body pressed to his, letting him feel the heat of her sex wafting towards him, even as her hand increased in speed. She was pumping him, matching the rhythm of her quickened heartbeat. "Are your hands even capable of being preoccupied by other things? Mine seem unable to do anything but touch you." There was so much of him to explore. Her fingers were drawn to him, all the places that she had kissed and bitten now had to be caressed and memorized.
She knew little about Samwell, but she knew much about men. The rules and vows of the Night's Watch were stifling. How could anyone enjoy the idea of forced celibacy or the inability to uphold their family's legacy. No matter the family they came from, they were all bred with a certain level of pride and loyalty to their houses. A simple oath to surrender their claims would not be enough to remove the years and teachings of their house. Jon was the perfect example of that. When the Starks and Winterfell needed him, he abandoned his place as Lord Commander and returned to the place he called home. She had little doubt Samwell would be the same. "If he does assume leadership, I will surrender High Garden to his care. Better it be with a good man than the Lannisters." She had no intention of returning to the ghosts of her past or the ever present reminder of her loss. "My place is here with you."
She could only manage so much more of this, offering him the complete sensation of her lips around him and her tongue swirling about his length. The taste of him, the feel of his rigid length, it only fanned the flames inside her, causing her to ache for him to be pressed within her again. She was ravenous for him, shaking even as her head bobbed steadily, hitting the tip of his cock against the back of her throat. She moaned, the vibrations of her lips throbbing against him. Finally, she broke away and crawled over him, settling against his hips astride, pressing herself firmly against him. "I need you." She whispered harshly. "I need to ride you."
Without any fanfare and in one deft motion, she pushed him against her entrance and slid herself down his length until he was firmly encased by her walls. The sensation was just as overwhelming as before, drawing out a breathless cry as her body's craving was finally sated...at least temporarily. Once more, she felt completed and safe, joined with her other half and ready to chase that burning passion with reckless abandon. "I can't get enough of you."