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The Trial of Seven would take place in a matter of moments, thanks to your idiot brother with his tiny cock and massive ego. "Targaryen dishonour", he said. He is Targaryen dishonour-
We must digress. Far more important things currently take place in the prince and princess' rooms.
This fight was in moments, yet your husband had vowed that he would make you finish one last time before his death unlikely as the possibility was.
Desperate sounds filled your bedchamber, as they oft did.
The air was thick and heavy with rush, the pleasure already hot and insistent.
Daeron was kneeling before the wooden desk, the one that you sat upon, spread open like a dessert.
His lips were firmly attached to yours, smacking greedily, his tongue flicking at your entrance while his nose nudged and ground at your nub. The way you seeped into his mouth was obscene.
He was kneeling before the wooden desk, the one that you sat upon, spread open.
Little mewls left you, rolling your hips leisurely as he put his whole self into pleasing you.
"Mhm…" The gold-silver of his locks glistened in the dawn mist as they were tugged by your ringed fingers.
This only encouraged your husband. He plunged a finger into your core, curling it and latching his lips onto your clit as if it were your nipple. The familiar feeling of closeness began to gather inside of you.
"Oh- Fuck, Daeron."
The door rattled open, neither of you cared to look, too busied with your activites.
There Valarr stood, in full armour, ready to face Aerion to make a stance with his true, knightly honour.
His deep voice rang through the room, firm as his large hand shut the door. "Cousin, we must-"
The sight of you, gasping in delight as you held your brother's head between your legs stopped him dead in his tracks.
His eyes widened, and then he quickly averted his gaze, favouring the stalwart, undecorated wall. He cleared his throat.
Why weren't you stopping?
A lazy moan left you, pulling your husband's hair firmly, keeping your skirts up so that your thighs might be exposed. "He is busied." You said dryly, voice breathy all the same.
"Oh, my love…" You whined, feeling his long finger, joined by another, piston in and out of your clenching cunt. The tips prodded at your special spot, urging you to cum.
The sight stirred thoughts in Valarr that had only ever existed in his bed, late at night, when sleep was eluding him. His cousin was so enchanting… His cock was straining against his armour.
Yes, it was time to leave.
"I shall go!" He said loudly and hurriedly, reaching for the handle of the door.
Men, always making their decisions at the most inconvenient of times.
You sacrificed a climax, and roughly dragged your hungry husband away from his most treasured, saccharine, place by the hair. He sniffled but obeyed, and stood.
A subsequent yet brief sigh left you, mourning the rapture but knowing it was worth the pains.
You looked up to eye Valarr. "Come here." You said plainly. Not an offer, but a demand.
The Young Prince's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in shock, his mouth dumbly opened.
"What?" He squeaked, glancing over his shoulder at you, your soft thighs, and your cunt. Oh, gods.
"I want to suck your cock."
The brown-haired prince turned white.
His gaze left yours to join Daeron's, who had manoeuvred himself behind the table to undo the top laces of his wife's red, difficult dress, opening it just enough to free her tits.
Valarr had never seen a woman naked. He had been saving himself for his wife, as he believed his duty was as the future king. But gods be damned…
No!
He looked away, and shook his head avidly.
"Do not waver for worry of me," Daeron smirked as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, urging you to lean your weight back against him. He met looked over his cousin's red face with a chuckle, and caressed your breasts, gently pinching at your nipples. "I assure you, we get equal enjoyment."
"Mm." Your eyes shut, feeling the small, steady tingles of building euphoria, and the cold morning air on your dripping core.
"Come, cousin." Daeron murmured, kissing your neck before leaving you, walking to the other man and dropping to his knees before him.
Valarr looked down at him with wide, befuddled eyes, stumbling backwards against the wall, his armour clashing with the stone.
Your husband wasn't discouraged, though.
A deft hand reached out, beginning to unbuckle Valarr's codpiece while he looked up at the brown-haired prince, whose silver streak you were currently delighting yourself with, fingers circling your clit slowly.
"If you truly wish it not," Daeron began, pushing the panel of armour on his cousin's thigh to the side, and kissing his leg as of it were his sister's pearl. "you need only move."
A shaky breath left you as you found your feet, strolling over slowly, watching Valarr stare down at your husband, still as a statue, face frozen with a mixture of shame and growing want.
"He likes it." You said lowly.
Your cousin's eyes nervously flicked to you, his hands twitching at his sides.
"He's hard." Your husband replied, palming him suddenly, making him let out a squeal that died into a whimper.
There was a wide grin on your face. You were going to ruin him.
Daeron made quick work of Valarr's breeches, he untied them and pushed them down to his knees, Then — after a long, self-indulgent moment admiring his cock — pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.
The Young Prince sat like a bride on her wedding night, cheeks on fire, cock strained as he looked at you, his beautiful cousin, and her imposing breasts.
You latched your lips onto his enthusiastically but slowly, feeling him messily try to match your movements, his hands raising to hold everywhere at once, gliding across your back before settling for your cheek and — with your strict guidance — your breast.
His mouth was wet and open, his sloppy technique a clear show of his inexperience. The counter you gave was leisure and softness, urging him to give little pecks instead.
"She likes gentle kisses." Your husband murmured in encouragement, placing a hand on Valarr's shoulder while his other sneaked between your bodies, and took a loose grip around his cousin's cock, feeling it jerk at the touch. He stroked it slowly.
The brown-haired prince gasped into your mouth, feeling excitement build in himself far too quickly. This was all so overwhelming.
Daeron loved nothing more than seeing you wrapped in another man, just as he loved seeing the man himself. So, he caught his cousin's stagger immediately, and let go. He placed his hands on the backs of both of your heads, keeping them firmly together as a puppet master would his toys.
"I'm going to fuck her now." He said as he pressed a wet kiss to his cousin's cheek, then slipped behind you.
A relieved breath left you, and you pulled back from Valarr's kiss, taking hold of his length. "Yes?"
His eyes flicked across your face anxiously, but he nodded.
You husband was pulling up your skirts impatiently, exposing your arse to the room and his hungry gaze, but you still occupied yourself with your cousin's.
"I need you to say it."
He swallowed and murmured quietly. "Yes." There was shame in his words, but it they were undeniably edged with corruption.
Daeron caressed the globes of your arse with one hand, freeing his cock with the other. It was angry and wanting, as it had been since last eve.
You had tortured him to the edge for hours, just as he loved. He would have saved the explosion of satisfaction as a prize for after the trial, but your cousin had spoiled that plan; much to both of your happiness.
At the same time your head dipped down, your husband thrust inside you to the hilt. Daeron watched as he disappeared inside you with a deep groan, then swiftly began to fuck himself in and out of you. "So tight…"
A quiet moan left you, composing yourself and gripping Valarr's thighs for purchase while being eye to eye with his cock. Lengthy and thick, what a prude he was, keeping this from you.
Your lips stretched around it as you took him into your mouth. Your head bobbed dutifully, loosening your intricate hairstyle, your cousin's hand doing the same as it found your nape. His other gripped the white sheets — what a lie the purity they held was.
He let out unholy sounds that seemed almost painful. The skill which you sucked had him beset with stimulation. The flat of your tongue pressed against his most sensitive, pulsing vein, your husband's thrusts into your cunt making your mouth jolt around him.
Valarr could never shut his brain off, and began to worry that a maid would come to alert them. What would she do, seeing two princes, and a princess of House Targaryen, wrapped up in one another in a way as lewd and lascivious as this?
Alas, his mind was not present enough to be fully anxious. Even though his words lacked like a simple mute's would, his whines were loud enough to be heard through the stone.
Daeron shared this, and let out unabashed moans for his wife as he heard hers be muffled by the weight of their cousin on her tongue. The spongy spot inside of you was being assualted by your brother's length.
"That's it, my darling." He groaned, smacking his hips against yours with such force that the cheap, weak Ashford bed creaked. The action made your arse ripple, and he gave it a sharp swat, making you whine. Your sweet voice was robbed by a cock, the only thing he would ever tolerate to take your words.
Valarr breathed unevenly at the image, on the edge so quickly, a green boy needing release.
Your brother watched all of this, his length bullying your insides, pure hunger in his eyes. He gave an arse cheek a squeeze, then left it, reaching forward to push your head down, making you gag uncontrollably.
One of your hands held your cousin's igh desperately to cope with the force of your husbands thrusts the stun which you took them and the task of recovery from that wonderful push of your head, which your Daeron knew you truly loved,th.
A hand of yours was freed with purpose, and its fingers creeped to your cousin's balls, rolling them in your palm.
The Young Prince's embarrassment exploded into your mouth, spend trickling down your throat, as you swallowed around him. He whimpered in overstimulation, eyes as wet as you were with it.
Your head lifted just enough to free his member, then your cheek slumped onto his strong thigh.
The job was done, and the coil in your belly was tight, just as it was in your husband's. But he always ensured that you would have your gratification before he would have his.
"He tastes nice, doesn't he?" Daeron murmured with a strained yet affectionate lilt to his voice. He gripped your bruised hip with one hand, fucked you brutally, and reached to flick your at clit. "All of that cum down your thirsty throat."
The whip of anticipation cracked.
A deafening cry left you, lurching forward so your forehead pressed against your house crest on Valarr's armour. The spasm of your warm, wet core had your husband spilling all the same.
He filled you with so much seed, the amount sextupled from all the times you denied him the eve previous. Sweet stretch marks would surely find your belly after this, swelling with his child once again.
The three of you let out heaving breaths as ecstasy faded and reality made itself known.
Your husband pulled out gently, caressing your ass for a moment before reaching for the corner of the rumpled sheets, cleaning the mixture of your peaks from your slick folds.
Daeron then tucked himself back into his breeches, and lowered your skirts. His arms encircled your waist to aid your straightening up, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.
Valarr watched you tuck your breasts back into your neckline, gasping for air still, with a pout on his face — why would you put something so pleasing away? — making the gasps sound like faint whistles.
You eyed his face with an indolent, pleased expression. "Have I emboldened you enough to kill our brother?"
A disbelieving chuckle left him. He blushed still, the pretty prince he was. "I do not wish to kill."
"I do." Daeron smiled to himself, tying off the bow that held your dress together. He let his chin lay on your shoulder, rubbing your waist slowly as he eyed his cousin. "What sweet things happen when one is full of adrenaline."
The Young Prince looked away briefly, the corners of his mouth twitching. He realised he was still exposed, and tucked himself back into his breeches, lacing them swiftly.
The marital embrace broke, and you walked to where your husband had first corrupted the green participant, picked up his discarded piece of armour and walked the few steps to return it to him. He took it with a shy smile, "Thank you." and buckled it back on.
A soft huff left you. You kissed the shell of his ear and reached a hand back to remove the do in your hair, allowing it to fall down, flowing freely.
Two crimson ribbons were held in your hand. One which you tied around your husband's wrist, the other which you tucked into your cousin's collar discretely.
"I wish you both luck." You murmured with quiet delight, briefly wrapping your arms around Valarr, and then standing on your tiptoes to peck your husband's waiting lips.
When you pulled back began to scurry off with clicking heels as if nothing had happened, your brother called after you. "Wife!"
You did not turn around, only pulled the door open. "I am fetching our little princess! She will wish to see her uncle die!"
Daeron chuckled as you slipped out, placed his hands on his hips, and looked back at his cousin, who was still sitting on the bed, now looking like a guilty child who had seen things beyond his comprehension.
"A wondrous mouth, is she not?" He asked casually, still grinning. "And marvelous breasts. Each night is a feast, truly."
Valarr just blinked and stood up. He supposed his cousins had always been the open type; relaxed and amorous, unbothered in their desires. But he had never imagined anything like what had just happened. He questioned if it was even real.
"…Yes."
The golden-haired laughed again and threw an arm over his shoulder, leading him out of the chamber.
Valyrians were known for their taboo coupling. Ancient texts with scrolls of ten people together, men getting fucked by dragons, women riding their spikes with wanton bounces.
All of it was disgusting, unrighteous, and blasphemous to The Faith. They rejected it all, set out rules and regulations.
No one could marry a relative closer than a first cousin. No man could stray from his bed, nor enter another's.
What wordly rules for worldly men.
Targaryens transcended such laws. They would fuck, suck, intertwine, and fill their brothers and sisters and cousins as they liked. For they were dragons, and all know better than to pull a beast's favourite meal from them.