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The sights and sounds of combat greeted you as you approached the balustrade overlooking the training yard. Some men schooled one another in smaller groups with other weapons: the mace, the lance, and the axe. But it was the sword training nearest you that had your rapt attention, Ser Jorah Mormont guiding the new recruits through the basics of sword fighting. His commanding voice filled the yard, but it was not angry or critical in its tone at the lack of ability these men had. His guidance was firm yet tempered with placidity. He demonstrated a common defensive maneuver, the silver of his armor glinting in the sun. He moved with the fluidity of a wild cat, the muscles under his breeches bunching and flexing as he swung his sword in a powerful arc. He finished and stepped back, indicating that he wanted them to repeat his action. He paced slowly down the line, watching and making verbal corrections to certain men. Someone alerted him to your presence and he turned to you. Your breath caught at the sight of him, his brow dotted with the sweat of exertion, smudges of grime on his forehead and cheek. Your sex throbbed as his gaze held yours, and though you had had him just the night before, your body yearned for him yet again.
You remembered how he had whispered fervently against your ear as he had undressed you, your back flush against him, that you made him ravenous with want. And he had shown you the depth of that desire, with his mouth and body, many times. You marveled at his stamina this morning as the two of you had only had perhaps a few hours of sleep after you had sated your desire.
You saw the heat flicker in his intense blue eyes and the imperceptible arch of one eyebrow before he turned and gestured to one of the other Knights to approach. You shook your head slightly as you knew just what he was going to do. You had made the mistake once of telling how the sight of him in his armor made you flush with fiery need. He had simply smirked at your admission, storing it away for some purpose in the future. The men stepped back as the two Knights faced one another, swords at the ready. They began to spare, the clang of metal and grunts of effort punctuated the air. Parry, lunge thrust, block. He moved with such grace, his gaze entirely focused on the task at hand. Your heart pounded in your breast, the hunger for him increasing with each strike of his sword. It went on for a short time before Jorah disarmed the man and knocked him to the ground before walking toward him to help him up with a good-natured smile and then a clap on the shoulder. The men around them clapped and cheered at the demonstration as Jorah sheathed his sword and turned to find you had gone.
The display you had just witnessed made you briskly descend the stairs to walk across the dirt yard. The men around you dropped to one knee at your appearance, their heads bowed in reverence. Jorah turned to you, his head bowed also, but his eyes never left yours. “My Queen.” His voice was rough and only faintly winded from his display.
“Ser Jorah,” the formality of your address was only for show. “I must speak with you.”
He saw the desire in your eyes and his gaze mirrored yours. You noticed the subtle flare of his nostrils as you said, “At once.”
He instructed the other Knight to continue as he followed you from the yard, your pace hurried. You covered the distance to the stable quickly, entering it and turning to face him as you backed into an empty stall. He slowed his approach as he saw you lean against the wooden wall. You felt like prey as he stalked toward you, lust in his eyes. He stopped abruptly as you bit your bottom lip and grasped your gown in your hands, inching it slowly up your parted legs to reveal your sex to him, your inner thighs glistening with your abundant arousal. He growled at the wanton sight before him, his eyes riveted on your center.
“I cannot wait, Jorah, I must have you now.”
His eyes met yours at your impassioned request and he covered the remaining distance with one large stride. “You will, but I must have a taste first.”
His thumb grazing over your lips as he dropped to his knees before you and buried his face between your legs, a shaky whimper left your lips as his tongue licked over you in a firm long stripe, ending with a suckle at your aching pearl. Your head fell back against the wooden partition with a dull thunk, a loud moan leaving your lips as your legs threatened to give.
He stood, gathering your copious slickness from his bottom lip with his thumb before licking it from the digit with an exaggerated swipe of his tongue. He groaned low in his chest, “You have the sweetest fucking honey.”
You moaned at his filthy admission, even in your most passionate moments, he had never spoken to you this way. A thrill ran through you at his feral masculinity, the beast prowling in his eyes. He hefted you in his arms, one hand snaking between you to unlace his breeches and free his hardened manhood from their confines. He grasped your knee in his hand and drew it high up on his waist, thrusting into you, hard and deep.
Through gritted teeth and a low growl he said, “So very wet for me.”
You pressed your open mouth against his neck, trying desperately to stifle your loud moans as he started a punishing pace, the metal of his armor biting into the tender flesh of your inner thighs, the slight pain only adding more fuel to your fire. He licked your neck and nipped at the skin roughly, you knew somewhere in the back of your mind you would carry the marks of your coupling for days to come, but you found you didn’t care. You were captive in this moment and pleasure was all that mattered. Your animalistic grunts combined into a primal beat, the pressure of his pubic bone perfect against your pearl with each deep fast thrust. You clutched at the hair at the back of his head, pulling his face roughly from your neck to kiss him fiercely, biting at his bottom lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood.
Your body began to tremble, your impeding release just tantalizingly out of reach. He sensed your need and increased his pace further, the wall rough against the fabric of your gown.
Jorah leaned back slighty, his hips driving against yours, pressing you harder against the wall. His eyes flashed and his breathing labored. “Come for me, love, come all over my cock.”
His words were all it took to set your release free, the waves of heat crashing over you, the throb of your sex hard around his shaft. You moaned his name into his mouth, your nails biting into the skin of his scalp, your body shuddering violently in your pleasure.
“Fuck” He swore against your lips before groaning your name as his warm release filled you in thick hot pulses, his heavy body pressing you against the wooden wall. You relished the weight of him against you, the strength made you feel safe and protected. Your legs, slippery with sweat, slid against the metal of his armor as he slipped from your body. He eased you to the ground, holding you to him as the urgency left you both, your breathing and heartbeats finally returning to normal.
He met your eyes and the tenderness had returned to his gaze. His hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you. You felt the care and love in his gentle kiss before he rested his forehead against yours, a quiet murmur of ‘I love you’ against your lips, one you returned eagerly.
He pulled back and looked at you, a smirk on his face as he chuckled, “It was the armor, wasn’t it?”
You shook you head at his playful arrogance, but you could not help the laughter that bubbled up inside you as he joined you soon after with a deep laugh of his own.