Work Text:
I already can’t wait
Jon felt sick. Sweaty palmed, he ducked his head under the sun-bleached sheets and hanging tapestries which covered the path ahead. The streets in this part of the city were quiet during the high sun but still he dreaded being caught. Even if it were just by a Meereeneese street child or merchant. No one can ever know I was here. Not for the first time he peered back over his shoulder at the narrow dusty streets he’d left behind him. Empty. Perfect. Knowing he was close, he dug a damp fist deep into his breeches pocket and grasped at the handful of coins that lay nestled there. A small fortune, for sure, but I’ve been assured it will be worth it. She’ll be worth it. Swallowing to try and wet his parched throat, Jon counted three yellow doors in a row to his left, before he came upon the door he’d been looking for. The fourth door - unassuming and made of simple stained wood - was likely to be the portal to his undoing.
She had driven him to this. Alone in their chambers one night she’d asked him, frowning and confused. Is that what you want? Another woman? The way she’d said those words, what she’d done next, she might as well have walked him here herself. Jon both hated her and loved her more with each step he took, feeling unbridled excitement and fear about what was to come. This could ruin my marriage. But... she made me do this.
Through the door, a new world opened up. He was met with damp, heavy and tropical air, while at his back remained a dry and dusty land. The courtyard before him housed a lush, hidden garden, overlooked by balconies adorned with trailing ivy and delicate flowering plants. He moved through it in a daze, momentarily forgetting why he was here in this foreign place. A voice cut through his thoughts, drowning the sound of trickling fountains and quickly reminded him exactly what he had stolen away from his duty for. “Just in time, milord”, the beauty before him uttered softly. “She’s ready for you.”
Up stairs adorned with gold leaf and along partially sunlit corridors, Jon found he could barely take in the beauty of the building as he followed on the heels of the one who’d greeted him. Around him, muffled sounds of people and pleasure filled his mind with equal parts dread and excitement, the thought of what might come both thrilling and terrifying him. What am I doing? He asked himself for the hundredth time that day. There is no going back once I begin this. Wrapped up in his own thoughts, Jon almost trod on the heels of his guide, who had finally come to halt before a particularly oversized and opulent door.
“This is where I leave you milord. Up these stairs takes you to our most private suite. You shan’t be disturbed, no matter the ruckus you make!” She barely contained a giggle as she unlatched the door and handed him the key. “You can lock yourself in, if it pleases you.” And with that she curtsied and scuttled off, back down the hall they’d just walked. Jon stood at the door as the minutes slipped by, desperately trying to prepare himself for what was hidden in the room before him, eagerly swallowing his nerves and actively mustering the will to put one foot in front of the other. What would she think of me? Stood out here, not even able to enter. Jon closed his eyes and pictured his wife, pictured her face as they talked about this most secret desire and tried to recall her parting words on the topic. “If it’s what you want, truly, then you should have what you want, Jon. You are a King, after all. Have another woman and see if it pleases you.”
Slipping between the gap, he heard the door click back into its frame and quickly placed the key into the lock, turning it noisily. Resting his forehead against the solid wood, he tried in vain to calm his racing heart once more. Daenerys, he thought sadly. The shame you would feel seeing me so weak. Finding new strength in himself, hoping to prove his wife wrong, Jon pushed off the door and began to ascend the stairs. Into the unknown. All around him smelled of sweet, fragrant scents, no doubt intended to cover the scent of sex. He found himself breathing it and was pleased it wasn’t so thick in the air as to stick in his nose and cause him to retch. Enough to trick him into thinking this was just a room where people might come to stay for the night, to sleep and enjoy the calm. No, he reminded himself. No sleep here today.
He thought he might have to wait a while before she arrived. The one he’d asked for, the one he’d ordered. But as he stepped into the room his eyes were pulled towards the silhouette of a woman behind a thin, hanging veil. “Finally,” came her voice. Slow and sultry and very foreign. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Jon coughed and rubbed his hand down his face. “Aye,” he responded awkwardly. “I’m here.” This made her chortle and Jon tensed at the sound. Already so unlike my wife. Coughing again, twice in a row, attempting to clear some unknown obstruction, Jon looked about the room. Eyes settling apprehensively on the bed, he mustered some semblance of courage and began making his way towards it.
“Stop.” She commanded softly, as if she wasn’t yet sure she could tell him what to do. “My king,” she added as an afterthought, no doubt hoping to soften the blow of the abrupt instruction. Parting the veil that separately them, she stepped into the light. “Don’t you wish to look upon me, make sure you are quite satisfied with what you have been given?” Jon clenched his teeth together painfully. Inside he wanted to scream at the woman to just get on with it, to stop dragging it out and making him face up to what he was doing. But as he took her in, his breath caught in his throat. Atop her head sat a mop of tight brown curls, somehow flecked with both gold and chestnut in equal measure. Dark, bronze-coloured skin as far as his eyes could see. A waist so narrow he knew instantly he could encircle it entirely with his hands. Wide shapely hips and pair of thick thighs which he imagined wrapped around his waist. Allowing himself the simple pleasure of enjoying the view of another woman, his gaze moved lazily across her body, taking her in. She was not nude, but she might as well have been. Her ample breasts perched precariously within a bright red brassier, which barely managed to contain their contents. The smooth planes of her stomach quivered under his gaze and he watched her shuffle her feet closer and press her thighs together. He was robbed of the pleasure of viewing her cunt for the time being as she wore a pair of small clothes unlike any he had ever seen. Intricate lace, and red to match the brassier, they were hardly worth wearing. His only other thought about them was simply that they covered where he hoped he’d soon become familiar.
Finally, he allowed his eyes to meet hers and he found himself forgetting to breathe, only realising his desperate need for air when his vision began to speckle. She’s so... different. Different to what I’ve known for so long. Dark where Daenerys is light, wild curls where she has tame locks. In no way prim or proper or Queenly. This woman represented the unknown, where his wife remained ever constant and... familiar. “Are you... pleased by what you find, My King? The woman said softly, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “Will I... suffice?” My King? He thought. Daenerys wouldn’t be caught dead speaking to him in such an indulgent manner. She’d only ever referred to him as ‘king’ in public, to introduce him. But here, in this bedroom, said with such seductive veneration, Jon found himself liking the way it sounded very much. Rubbing at his cock beneath his breeches absently, he began nodding his head before he’d fully comprehended what she’d said. By the time he had, his answer was already tumbling from his lips, gruff and ragged. “Oh yes... I find myself verypleased indeed.”
“And... How might I please you more, My King?” As she spoke those words, he heard himself groan. “Do you like it when I call you king? Does it make you feel... powerful?” She waited for a response so long Jon found himself actually thinking about an answer and then, even more oddly, sharing it. “It... it does, aye. It makes me feel... I... I like it. No one would usually call me... that.” She smiled, slyly. “Not even your... wife? She doesn’t show you how much she loves you, respects you, by calling you what you are? A King. The most powerful man in all of the Seven Kingdoms?” As she spoke Jon felt his heart stutter and then speed up. He felt his breath catch and his chest swell. “No,” he responded finally, matter-of-factly. “My wife doesn’t say those things to me.”
Jon felt with every word he spoke, he was destroying the carefully crafted trust he had spent the past 10 years building within his marriage. But as he stood before the incredible beauty, he found himself forgetting exactly why this was such a terrible thing. “I so want to please you today, My King.” As she spoke, she reached up and hooked a single finger under each brassiere strap, allowing them to slip off her shoulders and hang down her arms. Her breasts, freed in-part from their confines, spilled out over the tops of the lace and Jon found himself blessed with a hint of her dark nipples, peaking from behind the deep red lace. Stepping right up to him, so they were toe to toe, the woman before him turned on the spot and bowed her head forward, quietly muttering, “perhaps you’d help me by untying my ribbons?” He did not need asking twice but Jon managed to suppress his haste. Instead of quickly tugging at the loose ends, he slowly ran his finger under the dainty bow in the ribbon, marvelling at feel of her heated silken skin against his own. Carefully pulling at the ribbon strands, Jon didn’t stop until the lace fabric parted and fell to the floor. Before he even had the chance to reach out and enjoy her newly exposed flesh, perhaps reach around and cup her ample bosom, she stepped away. Without pause, she then hooked her fingers into the lacey fabric at each hip. Slowly and carefully she dragged the scrap of lace down her thighs, bending forwards as she did so, the crease in her behind parting ever so slightly, giving him a tiny peak at the treasure between her legs. Stepping out of them gracefully, she took her time righting herself, turning to face him only when she was fully stood. The red lace she pressed into his palm as she leant forward and pressed her lips to his ear. “For you, My King. A gift to remember me by.”
Absently, under his breath, Jon found his thoughts slipping from between his lips, a deep secret, never spoken. “My wife...,” he started, swallowing as she ran her hand across his cook, rubbing and cupping it through the fabric of his breeches. “She‘s never worn anything like that, undressed for me in that way”. As if hearing those words pleased the woman before him, a sly smile tugged once more at the corner of her mouth. “What else wouldn’t your wife do for you? I want to make sure you get all you wish for, before you must return to her.” He knew what she was doing, he wasn’t so dumb as to not notice, but he found it difficult to care. Throwing his head back to try and focus his thoughts, Jon thought about all the things he dreamed about these months, damn, these years past. Things that palaces, children, serving staff and comfort had prevented them... prevent him for experiencing. Sucking in a deep breath, Jon brought his gaze level with the woman in front of him, her eyes strangely familiar beneath her dark lashes and smoky lids. “I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you any which way I please. And I want to hear you while I fuck you. Hear you moan, hear you groan and scream and curse. I don’t want to worry about children walking in or what the guards on duty might hear. When I’m with my wife, when I come, I bite my tongue and often keep how it feels trapped inside. But... not here. Here, I want to be loud, I want everyone to hear me, here us. I want every person in every corner of this building to know what is happening in this room.” Now he’d spoken his mind, Jon paused as he continued to look into the eyes of this stranger. “I want you to make so much noise they bang on that door and demand we stop.” And with that, he reached out for her and got to work.
Jon hadn’t seen his wife’s naked body for well over a month now, and it had been almost two months since they had shared a bed, longer again since they had lain together. He gulped. The beauty before him was perfect in every sense of the word. Any man would give his right hand to have her show interest in him, their first born to spend the night with her. And here he was, creeping through dusty back streets and silently slipping into her bed. Deciding that he’d come too far to back out, to feel any remorse for what he was about to do, Jon stripped off his shirt and settled himself on the bed. Between her legs he found her completely bare, which was a new sight. Daenerys had preferred to leave a little scrap of silver adorning her sweet pussy during their first years of marriage but in recent years she’d stopped clearing the area, preferring the clippers to the blade. The dripping cunt before him was as bare as a skinned rabbit, the skin here just as golden and smooth as every other inch of her. Wasting no time, he plunged two fingers deep into her hot channel and instantly spread her arousal up and down her folds, making sure to cover the sensitive nub at her apex. The room began to fill with the scent of her and Jon found himself liking it more than he’d anticipated. Sweet as summer fruits. I could drink from her all night.
Working his fingers in and out, alternating his speed, depth and how many digits he crammed into her at one time, Jon thought aloud. “I’ve only laid with two women. The second, my wife, is the only women I’ve had in my bed these ten years past. Ten years and only one woman. I have men I know who’ve claimed to have bedded over a hundred in the same amount of time. Liars or not, my number stands at two.” The brown-haired beauty listened intently, her breath catching every now and then as he explored within her. “Comfortable. That’s how I’d describe sex with her.” Daenerys, he said to himself. I mustn’t say her name aloud, but I cannot and will not lie to myself. Daenerys. My wife, Daenerys. “There’s nought wrong with familiarity, but I feel I know every inch of her, every part of her better than she, better than I know myself even.” Sighing, he looked up at the tanned beauty before him. “I miss the thrill of the unknown. I miss not knowing what will make her shiver and squeal. I miss discovering what it is that pleases her most or doesn’t for that matter. We have grown so used to each other and so we have forgotten what it is to be excited by each other.” Licking his lips, he looked away from her intense glare and down to where his fingers were nestled. “I’m excited at the idea of you.” From further up the bed, she spoke, clearly and calmly. “It seems you are happy with me then, My King. So, before you really begin, there’s the matter of... payment.” Jon froze. He’d almost forgotten that this was a service, not an act of mutual selflessness. She needs to get what she wants before I get what I want. Reaching one hand down and digging it deep into the pocket of his breeches, Jon pulled out the entire handful of coins stuffed in there. Opening his fist and depositing them in the centre of her stomach, Jon held her gaze. “Will that... suffice?” He felt like a tool for treating her so, but as she took in the pile of golden coins, ten times the price he’d been told, she nodded enthusiastically. “Good,” he responded, before spreading her legs wider and running his tongue along her slit.
Almost an hour later, Jon trailed his lips upwards, away from her now-quivering folds and smiled against her soft stomach. Well that was definitely... different. As if she sensed his next stop, the beauty beneath him lifted her hands and cupped her breasts, covering them from view as she mumbled a quiet ‘no’ at him. No? Jon paused and couldn’t stop himself from asking in a confused and slightly indignant tone, “why?” He may only have been with two women in his life, but he had fooled around with young lasses as a lad, and he had lived alongside men who talked of nought but bedding women. Not touch her breasts? Not grab a handful as they fucked? Not lick and suckle at her darkened teats as his cock or fingers worked her insides? Daenerys had always loved it. It was one thing he knew always worked to bring her to her peak and make her scream. He’d been admiring the dark, hazel-coloured nipples of this foreign goddess since the minute they’d been uncovered. Jon searched for the eyes of the woman before him, hoping he could do something, say something that might change her mind. “I don’t... I don’t like it,” she started, but the way she said it, the way she couldn’t meet his gaze, made Jon pause. I don’t... believe her, he thought to himself queerly.
Sensing he wasn’t convinced, she pressed on. “You may do anything you please with me. Only.... “ she stopped and bit her lip, a faint flush creeping up her neck and across her cheeks. “You cannot have these and... and you cannot take my arse. Mistress doesn’t allow that. Not for anyone.” At her second revelation, Jon nodded dumbly, understanding the latter request more than the former. “Your...” he trailed off, his eyes fixing on her hands and what they currently covered. “I can have anything I like but not those?” He sounded petulant, and truthfully, he felt it too. He’d made it no secret to his wife how much he enjoyed fondling her pale mounds and wrapping his lips around her rosy buds, and she seemed to find great pleasure from the act too. To be denied what brought him pleasure, when he’d come here for just that irritated him. Swallowing, the dark-haired beauty spoke up again. “I can see your disappointment, My King. But that’s the way of it. Maybe it’ll do you good to try and please me in a different way to that wife of yours. You spoke of being comfortable, well here you have it. I am a different beast entirely, so do something different with me.”
For some reason, her words resonated with him. Their meaning clear on the surface, but they also echoed in the depths of his soul. I wanted something different, someone different, and here she is. I know what makes Daenerys wither and writhe, for sure. But this woman is not Daenerys, so why treat them the same. “Alright,” Jon said gruffly, sitting back on his heals, his gentle trail of kisses now halted indefinitely. “You are quite correct. A very different beast entirely, that’s for damn sure.” Looking about the room, Jon let his eyes and thoughts linger on what he saw, planning his next steps carefully. She wants me to please her and not think of my wife, fine. Let me see what tricks I am able to muster.
Draped face down over the chaise longue by the window, Jon had crossed her ankles before he’d plunged into her from behind, the tight press of her channel both a fine sensation for him and by the sounds of it, her too. He brought her to the edge a number of times before he caught her sneaking a hand between her own legs to try and finish herself off. Pausing, balls deep inside her, pressing himself to the hilt, he grabbed both her wrists and manoeuvred her arms behind her back, holding them tight as he resumed his movements. “You will wait,” he growled out. Daenerys hated being restrained and denied but this one screamed long and low and loud when he finally let her finish.
Moving her to the bed, he placed her so that her head had nothing beneath it and each time she became too exhausted to keep it upright and it fell backwards, all the blood would collect there. With her legs at his disposal, Jon found himself doing something he’d never tried with his wife before. As he continued to thrust his cock deep inside her, he ran the tip of his tongue, slowly and carefully up the centre of one foot, enjoying the way she flinched and desperately tried to pull it away. Oh no, not this time, he thought mercilessly. I can’t have your arse, nor your tits. But I will have this. Holding one foot steady with both of his hands so she couldn’t pull it away, Jon twirled his tongue round and round her big toe before he sucked it hungrily into his mouth. Each time she’d dragged her head up, she watched him work, her forehead crumpled and contoured in an almost painful looking grimace. If she hadn’t come so violently within the first few caresses, he’d have worried she wasn’t enjoying his newfound fetish. Gods, she has a potty mouth, Jon thought delightedly as she came again, his mouth hungrily working at her other foot.
Letting her rest a while, knowing he probably only had a little left in himself, Jon’s final idea had come when he’d walked to the privy and passed a shelf of knickknacks. On it he’d noticed a number of interesting things, including a worn leather belt, a couple of lengths of silk and a wide variety of different sized but very familiar oblong objects. Not this time, Jon mused, feeling less annoyed now than he had earlier. He’d grabbed the belt and silks on his way back to her and while she was still groggy from napping, he began to tie her wrists together, binding them well before fastening them to the slats of the wooden headboard. She looked up at him, her heavy-lidded eyes now mildly surprised and full of mischief. She’s enjoying this, he realised happily. The other silken length he tied gently around her head, completely covering her eyes. Lastly, he took the belt and wrapped it around her thighs, clamping them tight together, the buckle holding them firmly in place. Mine to do what I wish with.
There was no kissing, no sweet words of adoration and love. It was pleasurable, certainly, and fun to explore new things with a new woman. But Jon felt nothing for her and that made him feel quite unexpectedly... happy. He actually was more than a little excited to admit he found himself loving his wife more with each passing moment. Watching a foreign pair of lips wrap around his most cherished appendage and seeing the same foreign beauty scream and moan as he fucked her senseless felt brilliant, yes. But still, inside he knew he could feel more. He knew of a feeling that could consume his very soul, a sensation that he would not be whole until he was joined with her. The thought alone made him spill his seed one last time, sooner than he’d expected. As he finished twitching and slipped from her slick channel, Jon let out a long sigh and smiled broadly. Collapsing heavily onto the bed beside where she lay, he settled on his back. Reaching one hand up, he tugged at the ribbon that held her captive and used his fingers to work them lose. “You undo the belt,” he said, sounding out of breath even to himself. He didn’t look at her as she finished freeing herself of silk and leather but when she was done, he pulled her sweaty body close to him, closing his eyes. Jon’s smile grew bigger as he felt her snuggle into his side.
“You look very... happy, My King.” His eyes closed, Jon heard her familiar voice seep through the sultry tones she had tried masking it with. “Very happy, My Love ,” Jon answered, loving the feel of those words as they tumbled from between his lips. My Love. Those words, her silence, meant the game was over. The spell had been broken. Opening his eyes a crack he looked towards her and found her beaming up at him. He couldn’t help but beam back, until he felt the joy inside bubble over and a hearty laugh broke free from within him. “That was...” he began before trailing off. Turing his gaze up to the ceiling, he tried again. “That was... indescribable. Truly, My Love. You played your part to perfection!” Looking over at her once more, he lifted a hand and for the first time he ran his hands through her tight, dark curls. “How did you do all this?” He asked genuinely amazed. “Your skin, well! You must have spent the past month sat naked beneath the sun to turn this colour, and... don’t scold me for saying it but, you look like you’ve... well, you’ve eaten well too. You’ve more for me to grab at your hips, and your arse is... Gods Dany it looked fantastic when I took you from behind." Continuing like an excited child, Jon could stop himself. ” Your fucking tits! Why in God’s name didn’t you let me touch them? Sure, it didn’t stop me from enjoying them, spilling out of that brassier and bouncing up and down, but no touching?! And your hair, fuck that got me! I’ve never seen a person make such a... dramatic change to their hair. And be so convincing too?
Daenerys beamed as he spoke and waited until he’d finished his rambling train of thoughts before she interjected. “It’s a wig, Jon. They practically sewed it to my scalp in case you wanted to pull at it!” As she spoke, he couldn’t help himself from reaching up and giving the tight brown ringlets a little tug, amazed when her head moved along with the hair between his fingers. “My nipples... well, they’ve been painted. Your greedy mouth would have ruined their appearance instantly, so I decided the whole area was a no-go. My how you rose to that challenge!” Jon shook his head in disbelief, sucking his index finger and thumb into his mouth before reaching down and pinching one dark bud. “Would you look at that!” He mused, her rosy nipple appearing as if by magic as the brown paint wiped away. “You have had a busy month here!” Dany then recalled all that she and their eldest two children had been up to the past month in Meereen, the royal visit providing the perfect backdrop for anticipation to build between her and Jon. they’d spend the month outdoors and eating very well indeed, she’d wanted to look as different for him as possible. “The children have missed you,” she added quietly, stroking his cheek. “And surprisingly, they missed the twins too! Are they all together now?” Jon nodded, informing her that on arrival atop Rhaegal, the three had been greeted by a group of mercenaries and the two young princesses had quickly been led off to find their brother and sister. “A friendly man by the name of Daario informed me he’d take care of them ‘as if they were his own’.” Jon raised his eyebrows at his wife, who only smiled and shrugged in response.
Recalling the conversation that started all this in motion, Jon looked at his wife for a long while before granting her a small, shy smile. So slight it barely tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I trusted it would be you, my love. By I was so fearful when I first laid eyes upon you, looking as different as you do, that you had gone and actually found me another woman!” Daenerys smiled, equally as shyly. “I thought about it.” She answered, honestly. “But I think when we spoke, I understood what you meant. I love you and I love what we have but we have become so very comfortable with each other. I try very hard not to allow our life to be boring and uneventful, but it’s difficult. This was a good way to let you, let us both, live out that desire for someone new. I might have even enjoyed it more than you. You really surprised me at times with what you were willing to do to pleasure this new woman! “
“Dany, “Jon cut across her, still sounding like a joyful child. “You even tasted different!” At that she threw her head back and let herself laugh unabashedly. “Thank the Gods you noticed, I have eaten pineapple twice a day for a month. The women here say it makes them sweet as the fruit itself. Would you agree?” Jon looked at his wife, so happy and carefree now, tucked in at his side. “I have never had the pleasure of eating pineapple, my love. But I would feast between your legs for the rest of my life, tasting as you did today!” After that last comment, silence settled all around them, allowing Jon to fully process what he had been able to experience with his wife. Darkness crept in through the uncovered windows, and the sound of night-time filled the air. When they left, they would go back to being King and Queen, father and mother, both roles bringing responsibilities which often allowed time for little else. The thought made Jon sad. “What would you say, my love, to doing this all again?” Turning her in his arms, Jon spoke with earnest. “What if next time, I play the role of the stranger and come into your life unexpectedly? Would you... enjoy such a thing?” His wife, for the time being dark haired and golden skinned, gave nothing away as she held his gaze. Reaching her hand up to cup his cheek, she guided his lips down to meet hers, smiling into the kiss as she whispered against his lips. “I already can’t wait.”
___________________________________
Notes:
It’s been a while! Was wondering what these two would be up to recently so decided to let me imagination run wild. Hope I didn’t piss any of you off too much who really thought I’d written a cheating Jon. NEVER! There were clues throughout, hopefully not enough to give the game away. Anyway, I’m still salty at how GoT ended, will never get over it. This place is my happy place! If you enjoy this then I’ll let my imagination see what stranger Jon might play.