Chapter 52
Her body thrashed wildly, though it barely moved. A strong, masculine arm was around her back, holding her firmly. Her legs were open enough for him to thrust away unfettered. Another orgasm hit her, and her thighs snapped shut but were blocked by his strong hips. She squeezed them tightly, hoping he would stop, but it was of no use. The pleasure was too intense, and she was afraid that she might actually pass out. How embarrassing would that be, she vaguely thought just as Harold flipped her over so that she was now straddling his waist.
Margaery flung her head back, causing her long, chestnut hair to whip out behind her. Falling forward, she was just able to keep herself in an upright position by catching herself against his chest. She could feel the powerful muscles rippling under her soft palms. His hands slid down her arms, and his fingertips brushed against the incredibly sensitive skin of her underarms. Margaery shuddered, and her body clutched him tighter. His fingers brushed down her body further and tickled the skin on the sides of her perky breasts. Again, her pussy squeezed him in response. His hands never stopped roaming, and Margaery kept her eyes closed, relishing in the sensation. Gathering her strength, she rolled her hips and began working his cock just the way she knew he liked. Margaery didn't just get lost in the passion whenever the two were in bed. She used her training and studied the situation. She made mental notes of the things he liked and what got him the most excited. From many, many hours of research, she knew that he liked it when she rode him confidently with her hair over her shoulders and her breasts proudly displayed. So that was what she did.
Her hips flowed smoothly over his skin as they jerked back and forth. Margaery could feel his massive girth inside of her, rubbing against her silken walls and hitting her most pleasurable spots. Her hair was bouncing against her nude back and brushing against her ass, and it was so long that she wondered if it was tickling his thighs. Her arms were at her sides, and her back was slightly arched. Her breasts were one of her favorite features about herself. They weren't large by any means, but they weren't exactly small either. They were very perky and shaped beautifully. There was no sag to them whatsoever. They weren't too far apart like some girls'. No, they were damn near perfect, she thought, especially with her light pink areolas and nipples that jutted out, crinkled and hard. Many of her past lovers complimented her on her lovely breasts. It was no surprise that Harold would love them all the same. Margaery was proud of them, as she was the rest of her willowy body. She was happy to display them to her lover. She didn't mind that his hands cupped them, or that his thumbs gently flicked against the hard tips of her nipples. The jolt of pleasure that raced down her spine only made the sex better, in her opinion.
His hand glided down her slim belly and over her smooth mound. Margaery waited with bated breath as his fingers closed in on their connection. When he touched her swollen clit, she squealed, came again, and collapsed onto him. Her body shook, and her naked breasts pressed against his chest. Margaery lightly bit down on his shoulder as his muscled arms encircled her tiny waist. She knew what was coming. She often collapsed into his arms, unable to keep herself going. Harold, however, gave her no respite then, and he wouldn't do so now either. The thought barely entered her mind when his hips pushed up, driving his perfect cock deep inside of her. The new angle was even better than before, she thought as she cried out and came harder. Again and again, his hips bucked, and he thrust directly into her g-spot. With every thrust of his hips, her orgasm exploded with mind-numbing pleasure. Her entire body tingled with blissful satisfaction that she had never experienced with any other lover.
Overcome with affection, she began kissing up his shoulder and neck until she reached his lips. Once there, she kissed him with more passion than she had ever kissed anyone else. She could feel him pulsing inside of her, and all she wanted was for him to seed her, but instead, he rolled her over again so that she was on her back. Without thinking, her legs opened wide, and Harold took the opportunity to thrust even harder.
Margaery broke the kiss and cried out, "Finish inside of me … please!" she begged as her body continuously welcomed him into her depths. She could feel him smile against her cheek.
"My, my, my darling, Margaery … Aren't you afraid that you might find yourself with child?" she heard him tease. Margaery, however, flushed in embarrassment. Truthfully, she wouldn't mind at all if she did. It would all but ensure that Harold was hers. Just the thought made her pussy clamp down so hard that she was practically choking him. He moaned deeply and kissed her soft lips. Margaery eagerly kissed him back. When she felt the sudden warmth spread throughout her lower half, she was ecstatic. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she locked her ankles together. She wasn't going to let him up until she had drained him of every last drop.
The Dread Lord of Essos
The following morning, Margaery couldn't keep the smile from her lips as she strolled through the garden. She didn't even notice her grandmother until she grabbed her by the upper arm and said, "Come, child. Let us talk."
"What about, Grandmother?" Margaery asked as she was pulled deeper into the garden where they wouldn't be overheard.
"I couldn't help but notice that you've shared your bed three nights in a row," Olenna spoke bluntly. Margaery wasn't shocked in the slightest that her grandmother was keeping track of her actions. The old woman did her best to know every little thing that went on in Highgarden.
"Oh?" Margaery asked with a small smile still playing on her lovely lips. This smile, however, was a bit more like a smirk than the one before.
"Indeed," Olenna responded. "And with Harold Hill nonetheless."
"Grandmother!" Margaery quickly chastised the old woman. "It wouldn't be wise to insult him." If Harold heard her grandmother saying such things, he may very well take offense and decide to leave. And where would that leave them? In a very bad place, that's where.
This time it was Olenna who smirked slightly. "Is it an insult to call out a bastard for what he is? Perhaps he does not remember that he is a bastard. He is so busy playing the role of a king."
"And why shouldn't he?" Margaery asked as Olenna threaded her arm through hers. "He has more power and gold than any other who can make a similar claim."
"That is true," Olenna nodded. "Some call him a king, and others call him a bastard. Titles are meaningless. What matters is power."
"So what is your point, Grandmother?" she asked. The roses were beginning to wilt, and soon, the gardens would be bare.
"I've received a raven. Several days ago, Robb Stark and a small group of his men infiltrated the Red Keep in the dark of night." Margaery gasped with wide eyes. Olenna nodded, trying desperately to hold back her grin.
"He was able to kill the boy-king Tommen before he was caught and killed himself. Currently, the North and the Crown are without their heads," the old woman informed her granddaughter.
"Everything is happening so fast," Margaery whispered, her hand covering her mouth. So many had died in such a short time.
"That is what happens in war," Olenna agreed. "From what I could gather, the old lion, Tywin Lannister has crowned himself King," she snorted with amusement. "I doubt he has endeared himself to whatever allies he has left."
"Can he do that? Crown himself, I mean," Margaery asked, and Olenna shrugged.
"He can do whatever he pleases, but he will only be a legitimate King if everyone else recognizes him as such. Can you imagine the rest of the Seven Kingdoms doing so?" she asked. Margaery shook her head.
"I too have my doubts. This is why I wish to speak with you. Harold … With his wealth and power, he could back his grandfather, and there will be little that the rest of us can do about it. The boy seems to hold you in high regard. He would have to if he is spending his nights in bed with you."
Margaery's face began to heat up at her grandmother's words. "You must continue with what you are doing. Do your best to keep him here and on our side. I will speak with your worthless mother. If nothing else, she'll be another smooth body for him to fuck," Olenna said with a sour look on her face. She had little respect for Alerie Hightower. "The woman already acts like a bitch in heat whenever he is around."
Margaery sniffed, finding the thought uncouth and unappealing. She knew that Harold spent time in her mother's bed. Why though, she didn't know. She was prettier than her mother and younger as well. She would bet her collection of dresses that she was better in bed than her mother as well. Perhaps her grandmother was correct, and men will simply fuck anyone they find appealing without a second thought.
"If we play this right, Margaery, Harold may well end up on the throne with you as his Queen," Olenna told her. Margaery's eyes lit up. Her as Harold's Queen? She found the thought appealing.
"Do you truly think so?" Margaery asked, her eyes filled with wonder.
"Who can say? It is certainly a possibility. A man with power will always crave a little more, but even if it doesn't, you must still keep up with your current plans. Our family is teetering on the brink of disaster, and you are our only hope. He can protect you, and as long as you are alive, we control Highgarden."
"Do you think any of the other Noble Houses from the Reach will try something?" Margaery asked nervously. It was her life on the line after all.
"I would not be shocked," Olenna simply said. "I have increased security as much as possible, but I would ask you to remain inside the castle for the time being. Greed is a powerful motivator."
The Dread Lord of Essos
Harry smiled to himself as he stood close by, invisibly listening to the old woman. 'Olenna never stops with the schemes,' he told himself, amused by her antics. Little did they know that he did have his eye on the throne. Who, if anyone, would be his Queen was still up in the air. Margaery was a good candidate, Harry thought. She was practically trained to be a Queen from birth. She had the presence and beauty of a Queen, and though she was a schemer like her grandmother, Harry could tell that she had a good heart. He also genuinely enjoyed being with her. No matter what happened, he planned on having the girl by his side, one way or another. He wasn't going to tell her that though. No, he thought happily. He would let Margaery and her mother tempt him into staying by using their beauty and sexuality. It would be fun to see how far they were willing to go.
For the time being, he would be forced to leave a copy of himself behind. They wouldn't know the difference as it was identical, and he would be controlling it personally. Unfortunately, he couldn't spend all his time in bed with Margaery. There were plans that needed to be implemented, and there were people he needed to go and see. Thankfully, he was quite adept at multitasking.
The Dread Lord of Essos
The House of Seven Lamps was a place that many wished to visit, but many could not afford. Located Northeast of the Happy Port, it was a mixture of inn, tavern, and mummer's house where a patron could come and listen to some of the best music or drown their sorrows in an assortment of wines, ales, and liquors from all over the world. Most nights, the patrons were loud and rowdy with merriment. That night was no different.
Arya walked confidently between the many tables filled with drunken louts eager to empty their money bags. Her brown hair flowed down to her shoulder blades in soft waves, and her skin was sweet-smelling from the honey dust she powdered herself with. A light gray dress of expensive silk cascaded down over one shoulder, leaving the other bare. Her face was lightly painted with eyeshadow and lipstick. She almost didn't recognize herself when she looked in the mirror. She had come quite far from the skinny girl of nine namedays who looked like a boy. Though she knew that she would never be among the most beautiful girls in the city, she was pleased that she would no longer be called Arya Horseface.
Catcalls and indecent propositions were tossed her way as she walked among the clods who disguised themselves as wealthy merchants. More than one hand reached out and touched her. She slapped one hand away that had so eloquently grabbed her ass. She pulled her arm away from another who attempted to pull her onto his lap. The old Arya would have been shocked at such behavior, but she now knew that this was nothing but normal in places like this. She had been in Braavos long enough to have learned that lesson well. Ignoring them, no matter how much she wanted to stick them with her blade, she carried on toward the back corner of the room where the most wealthy were seated. As she did, she saw her man.
Handsome and young, she almost felt sorry for him, and she wondered what he had done to earn such retribution. It was possible that he had done nothing. Perhaps a wealthy competitor put the price on his head to knock him out of the competition. It had been done before, many times in fact. The House of Black and White was practically built on it. However, it wasn't for her to judge. Trying to calm her thumping heart, she let a sweet, innocent smile play on her face. Who would ever suspect that a teenage girl would be capable of murder?
When asked why she would not be wearing a face, they told her that the man in question had specific tastes. Those tastes just happened to fall in line with what she really looked like. Arya was strangely flattered but in the end, it made no difference. She had a job to do, and she would do it regardless. She focused on placing one foot in front of the other and walking as though she had been trained in the arts of pleasure, which of course, she hadn't. That mattered little though. In Braavos, no one was who they seemed. She stopped in front of his table and waited. His head tilted up, and he smiled.
He was certainly handsome, she thought … very handsome indeed. His hair was long and black, and he reminded her of the men from the North. The only difference was that his hair was shiny and clean instead of the matted and oily hair that she was used to. His clothes were fine and very well-made. They were obviously expensive. As she suspected, he was wealthy. His clothes weren't of a Braavosi style, which meant that he was likely foreign. "Are you the girl he sent?" he asked in a pleasant-sounding voice. Yes, definitely foreign, she thought.
"I am," Arya responded in her fake Braavosi accent.
"Then come, sit down," he said with a smile. He pulled out the chair that was next to him, indicating that that was where he wanted her to sit. She would be near the aisle and visible to those around her. 'Damn,' she thought. That would make it much harder. Not showing her annoyance, she smiled and sat down daintily.
"Meisko certainly knows what I like," he saucily stated, checking her body out as she sat. Arya's cheeks heated up, but she played it cool. As soon as her bottom touched the padded seat of her wooden chair, it was pulled closer to him, causing the wooden feet to grind along the floor.
From what Arya was told by the Kindly Man, once a price had been accepted, the man was watched until a weakness was found. Women … It was always women, Arya thought. He always went through the same man who knew his way around the whores of the city. If you had a type, he could find a match … for a nominal fee, of course. So Arya had her orders. She tracked down the whore, who like her, was petite, had brown hair, and was young. Arya caught her just as she was leaving her room. One chokehold later and the girl was out like a light. She dragged her back into the room and slipped a few drops of sleeping solution into her mouth. Knowing that she would be out for at least a day, Arya dragged the girl to bed and stripped her of her dress. She spent the next few minutes in the girl's room putting on her dress and using her makeup. Once done, she left to find her target.
As she was pulled close, his muscled arm slid around her shoulder. Quickly glancing around, Arya saw that most of the women in the tavern were in the same position and that they were enjoying themselves, or at least they were pretending to. Wealthy men loved whores, and the whores loved their gold. Doing as they do, Arya leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. Looking up, she batted her eyelashes and smiled sweetly. Only a few seconds later, a young woman came up carrying two drinks. She sat them down at their table with a seductive smile aimed at her target.
"Our drinks …?"
"Belayova," Arya quickly answered, nuzzling up to him. She noticed that he smelled good. In fact, he smelled much better than any man she had ever been physically close to.
"Belayova … Such a pretty name. You can call me Harry," he smiled at her. "Now drink up and let us enjoy ourselves."
With little else that she could do, Arya did just that. She sipped on her drink while a musician sang his ballad on stage. When he was done, the crowd whooped and cheered. Arya, meanwhile, continued to look for an opportunity. Sadly, poison was out for the time being. He kept his glass on the opposite side. 'He must be left-handed like me,' she thought. She couldn't just drive a dagger into his heart right here in front of everyone. That would be ridiculous. No, for now, she needed to keep playing along. An opportunity will always make itself known.
The Dread Lord of Essos
'Will that singer ever shut up?' Arya asked herself as she was brought her fourth drink of the night. Her brain was already feeling a bit fuzzy since she couldn't just toss the drinks and pretend that she drank them. Having to drink them all down, she was feeling just a tad tipsy. She suddenly jumped when he placed his hand on her thigh. Embarrassed from being caught off-guard, she looked at him and smiled, hoping that he hadn't noticed. Whores didn't flinch like that. She placed her head back on his shoulder when he turned his head and placed his lips on hers. Arya's eyes widened as she received the kiss. It was soft at first, but then it deepened. His hand crept ever higher, and he squeezed her thigh.
Arya was losing her mind. She wasn't actually a whore! She had never even been kissed before, and yet, here she was. Not knowing how to properly kiss and afraid that she would be discovered, she simply did the best that she could. She copied his technique and pretty much just let him do as he wanted. She couldn't lie to herself and say that she didn't like it because she did. A lot, in fact. It was making certain feelings stir within her, and her body began to tingle and throb in all the right places. He suddenly broke the kiss and placed his lips against her cheek. He then laid kisses down her jaw and onto her neck. Arya squirmed, though she desperately tried not to. "Let's go to my room," he said, kissing her lips again. Dazed, Arya nodded.
They left the table, and he escorted her through the crowds of drunken patrons. The annoying singer was still warbling his tune on stage, and Arya very much hoped that someone would place a price on his head. They slipped through a backdoor and walked up the stairs to the second floor. From there, it was a short walk to his room. Once the door had been locked behind them, she found herself in his grasp once again. This time he practically devoured her mouth. Arya's knees nearly buckled when he sucked on her tongue for the first time. She could feel herself growing wet. She needed to finish this before things got out of hand. As his hands gripped her ass, she reached underneath a fold in her dress. Her fingers found the handle of her trusty dagger, and she slipped it into her palm. His hands moved up her back while his lips danced across the skin of her slender throat. Arya moaned as he softly nipped at her skin. His hand pulled on the strap over her shoulder, and he tugged the top of her dress down. His lips moved back up to hers while his hand touched her bare chest. Her nipple grew hard as his fingers gently caressed it. As he sucked on the sensitive skin of her neck, Arya cried out as she came. With what little common sense that she had left, she steeled herself and thrust her hand forward.
Instead of plunging her venom-coated blade into his ribs, she found her hand blocked just before she was tumbling through the air. Arya thankfully hit something soft … a bed, she thought just before her body bounced and her momentum carried her forward. She hit the hard, wooden floor with a loud thump. Arya blinked the spots from her eyes in a moment of confusion. A second later, she jumped to her feet ready to fight, only to find her target standing there with her dagger in his hand. He was examining it with a smile still on his face.
"Finely crafted," he complimented it. Arya stepped back against the wall to give herself as much room to dodge as possible. She watched him sniff the blade. "Scorpion venom?" he asked, sounding amused. Arya watched for any sudden movement, breathing heavily.
"Who are you?" she asked in a slight panic.
"King Harold of the Dreadlands …" he began. Arya's stomach dropped. She was in some big, big trouble.
" … and we need to have a talk, Arya Stark."
Chapter 53
"How do you know my name?" Arya asked in shock. Her back was still pressed against the wall of the rented room in the House of Seven Lamps. She could barely hear the warbling voice of that annoying singer down below through the thin walls. She looked at the Dread Lord in fear. She had, of course, heard of King Harold. Who hadn't, she thought as he twirled her dagger between his fingers. Everyone knew of him and his exploits. The fact that he supposedly flew on the back of a dragon was a tale that spread like wildfire. Arya had heard many of the homeless children of Braavos talking about him and claiming that they too would one day ride on the back of a dragon. It was a nice thought, but it would never happen, Arya knew. Most of the homeless children would be dead before they even came close to adulthood. It was the sad reality of the world they lived in. Only the strong would survive … like her, she suddenly thought.
"Because I've been looking for you. You were a bit tough to track down," he told her as he stepped closer. Arya studied his face closer. He certainly was handsome, she thought to herself. Perfectly symmetric features, chiseled jaw, brilliant green eyes, plump, pink lips … he had it all. For a second, her body yearned to be back in his arms … to taste his sweet lips once again. Her body was aching for his hands to be on her … For his fingers to be caressing her hard …
Arya looked down and squeaked in embarrassment. Her top was still down, and her small, perky breasts were out for him to see. Her little, pink nipples were still stiff and crinkled from arousal. His eyes were staring at them … almost studying them. Suddenly, her nipples became very sensitive, and her pussy longed to be fucked. Arya could feel herself growing even more moist than she already was. She quickly pulled the top of her dress up to cover herself. She looked and found him with an amused expression stenciled across his beautiful face. Her face began to grow hot, and her cheeks turned bright red as he stepped right up to her. His hands touched her bare arms as he slid her dress straps back over her shoulders. Arya couldn't help but rub her thighs together. She needed some way to help relieve the sexual tension after all. 'Pull yourself together, Arya!' she silently chastised herself. There were more important things to worry about right now.
"You were looking for me?" she asked in confusion. He nodded. "For me?" she asked again. Again, he nodded.
"Yes. It was quite a shock to find that you had joined up with the Faceless Men," he told her. He was so close that she could feel his body heat. Hearing him speak of the Faceless Men reminded her of something. 'Oh, yeah, I was hired to murder him,' Arya remembered then flushed beet-red. What would he do in response? Feed her to his dragon perhaps?
"After the shock subsided, I began to wonder how good you were. That's why I hired you," he added.
"I'm sorry, I …" she began but then halted. "... Wait … You hired me?"
"Yes," he smiled.
"You hired the Faceless Men to assassinate yourself?" she asked again in confusion. He chuckled.
"Not exactly. The Faceless Men and I have an unspoken arrangement. They don't accept contracts on me, and I don't burn the House of Black and White to the ground."
"If they don't accept contracts on you, then how did you…" Arya began but was cut off.
"I asked them to send you after me as a test. It wasn't really a contract to begin with since you were never going to complete your mission."
Arya's temper flared. "Yes, I would have! I would just need to rethink my strategy and …" she started up but stopped when he cleared his throat. Arya saw that he was still spinning her dagger in his hand. She was being reminded that she was unarmed and defenseless. There was no way that she could defeat him in a physical fight either. She blushed again and decided to keep her mouth shut.
"Regardless, I didn't come here to hire an assassin. I prefer to do my own dirty work," he said.
"Then why were you looking for me?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched as he sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. Feeling like there was no other choice, she walked over and sat down next to him.
"Things have changed in Westeros," he told her. "The war is still raging, but many are dying and many more will soon follow." She looked at him with confusion. "Your brother, Robb, he was recently killed."
Arya's breath hitched. She knew there was a good chance that he wouldn't survive the war, but the news of his death was still like a punch in the gut. "Bran … Rickon … Sansa," she asked quietly, staring at the wall in shock.
"Bran and Rickon, I'm not sure yet. I suppose they are back at Winterfell. Sansa and your mother are staying with me in my castle. I will be leaving shortly to bring them word of your brother's death. They must act fast. With your brother gone, the wolves will begin circling Winterfell, hoping to claim the North as their own."
Her heart began beating fast. She knew that his words were true. She only had a taste of what it was like to live in King's Landing. The whole retched city was crawling with sycophants who would be only too happy to stick a knife in your back. Everyone was in it for themselves. Someone would try and betray their family and take Winterfell away from them. Of that, there was no doubt in her mind.
"My mother and Sansa … Why are they with you?" she suddenly asked. Why the hell was her mother not at Winterfell where she belonged? How did Sansa escape King's Landing?
"They came to my city to negotiate for the North."
"Negotiate what?" Was Sansa trying to marry him or something?
"As you know, winter is upon us, and it has never been kind to your people. They came hoping that I would supply the North with food and supplies throughout the winter," he told her.
"Oh," she said quietly, still thinking.
"So what is your plan, Arya? Will you remain here, or will you come with me? I leave early in the morning," he told her. Arya looked at him. She obviously wanted to see her mother and sister again, and she desperately missed Winterfell.
"I'll come with you," she said, sounding especially young to him at that moment. Arya cleared her throat and spoke again, this time sounding a bit more self-assured. "I should go back to the House of Black and White and tell them of my plans."
"I already mentioned that I would be taking you if you chose to allow it. If you have anything that needs collecting, however …"
"I gave up all my possessions when I joined the Faceless Men. All except one thing. I need to go get it," she told him, standing up. Harry nodded.
"Very well. Meet me here when you're done. Don't be long. We leave at daybreak," he said to her. Arya nodded in understanding and quickly left the room.
The Dread Lord of Essos
It was only an hour until sunrise when there was a soft knock at Harry's door. Already knowing who it was, he opened the door and stepped aside. Arya walked in wearing an outfit that seemed to be a mixture of male and female attire. She was wearing a dark gray vest over a white, long-sleeved blouse. She was wearing a matching gray skirt, but her legs were covered by black trousers. Leather boots covered her feet and went almost all the way up to her knees. On her slim waist was a sword with a long, thin blade. It was the same type of sword that Braavosi Water Dancers used to fight with. She was also holding a cloth sack firmly in her hand.
"That's a nice sword," Harry complimented her blade.
"Thank you. My brother Jon gave it to me," she responded.
"Do you know how to use it?" Harry then asked.
"Not as well as I would like."
Harry chuckled at her.
"Perhaps I can show you a thing or two."
Arya gave him a slight smile before looking him over. Harry had also changed before her arrival. He was now wearing his normal clothing. "We may as well get going. By the time we get to Ragman's Harbor, the sun will nearly be up." Arya agreed and followed him out the door.
The Dread Lord of Essos
"Step in to parry. Don't be afraid to be aggressive," Harold called out to her. They were on his massive ship that was probably more luxurious than any room in the Red Keep, Arya thought as she nodded. She was holding her sword, Needle, while Harold was holding a wooden practice sword. He had asked her to call him Harold. Arya couldn't stop her face from heating up when he did. Again, Harold swung his sword, and this time, Arya stepped in and parried.
"Good," he called out. "Now that you've stepped into my space, I have nowhere to go. From here you can take many different actions. A headbutt to the nose, you can stomp my foot or knee me in the groin, but my personal favorite is an elbow to the jaw. That will make them see stars," he said, leaning in and bumping her hard with his shoulder. Arya stumbled backward several steps. She didn't realize how strong he was. He barely even touched her, and she nearly fell over. "Attack again!"
Arya did as her former teacher, Syrio Forel had taught her. She used her size and speed to her advantage … or at least she tried to. They didn't call him the Dread Lord because he liked to play with kittens, she realized when all of her fastest strikes were countered by him. He brought his wooden sword up and blocked one of her swipes. As Needle struck the practice sword, the vibrations in her sword caused her hand to start hurting. That momentary lapse was all he needed. He started his attack, and Arya was forced into a defensive position. She moved as fast as humanly possible to block all of his jabs and swipes. Just as he told her to do, she stepped in during a parry and stomped her foot down. Instead of connecting with the top of his armored boot, the sole of her boot banged hard onto the wooden flooring of the cabin. She then found herself soaring through the air from a hip toss. Arya squealed in fright before hitting her bed. Needle went flying across the room and landed noisily on the floor. Arya looked at him with wide eyes, breathing heavily.
"Never assume that your opponent won't counter your dirty tactics," he explained. "And always be aware of their dirty tactics." Arya nodded in compliance.
As he had stated, his ship was very fast, so it wasn't long before they found themselves on his city's doorstep. Arya didn't exactly believe him when he said that they would arrive by the end of the day. A journey from Braavos down to the Disputed Lands would normally take a week or so, and that was assuming that there would be good weather and a strong breeze. 'Disputed Lands,' she thought with a snort. No one disputed them any longer, she told herself as the glittering, white city came into view. Arya stood at the ship's bow, taking in the breathtaking sight. By then, it was late afternoon and the setting sun was covering the city in an orange glow, making it seem that it was on fire. Her heart started beating faster when she realized that she was only minutes away from seeing her mother again.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Leaving a copy of himself with Arya while they docked, the real Harry appeared outside of a familiar door. He gave the door a knock and waited. As the door opened, he saw the surprised face of his aunt, Cersei.
"Nephew!" she sputtered before clearing her throat softly. Composing herself, she continued. "It's wonderful to see you again," she said evenly, stepping aside to let him in. The door closed behind him as he looked around her room. It was emptier than the last time he had been in there.
"And you, Cersei. Tommen has arrived, I hope?" he asked. Cersei nodded.
"Yes. Thank you for getting him out. He's out playing with one of his old friends," she told him.
"Many in Westeros believe he's dead, so make sure that he keeps a low profile until everything blows over," Harry said as he turned back to her. "I was surprised to hear of your return."
Cersei flushed red in embarrassment and stood there slightly squirming under his gaze. "King's Landing wasn't what I hoped it would be. The war has devastated the entire area."
"Indeed it has, and it will only get worse from here on. Many will suffer," he told her, checking her out. She was still as sexy as ever, and Harry could feel himself hardening. A light smirk played across his lips. "But not you, of course. You look quite healthy, my dear aunt."
Harry grabbed her hips and spun her around. Cersei gasped as he pulled her hips. She stumbled slightly as her back pressed against his chest. Cersei swallowed loudly while his hands explored her curves. Her body shuddered, and she closed her eyes. Her breathing became shallow and labored as he slowly lowered the top of her dress. Her breasts suddenly became cold as her dress was pulled down, and they were exposed to the cool air of the room. Instantly, her nipples crinkled and hardened. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?" he whispered in her ear.
Cersei gasped lightly as his voice tickled her eardrum. "L-Long time?" she asked, not really paying attention to anything other than his fingers which were gently playing with the soft skin on the bottoms of her perky tits. His hands then moved a bit higher, and he cupped her breasts in his palms.
"Since I last fucked you in this bed," he said in a teasing manner. He pinched her hard nipple, and Cersei squealed and arched her back, thrusting her tits harder into his hands. Then her body jerked as Harry harshly tugged her dress the rest of the way down. Cersei now found herself standing naked in a pool of fabric. "On the bed … now," he ordered her.
She didn't know why his tone of voice made her pussy quiver with need, but that was beside the point. She was in desperate need of a good, hard fucking. Scampering over to her bed, she quickly removed her boots as she watched her nephew strip down. She licked her lips when his fat cock sprang out of his tight trousers. Without a stitch of clothing, Cersei positioned herself on the bed and spread her legs wide. Her eyes feasted on his young, powerful frame. His handsome face, his rippling biceps … Cersei didn't realize that her hand had found its way between her legs while her eyes moved down over his muscled chest. When they landed on his toned abs, her fingers began stroking her slit. Within seconds, her fingers were slick with her juices. He then began making his way over to her.
Cersei blushed pink and used two fingers to spread her lips apart. His hand found its way to his cock, and he started stroking himself while she showed off her wet, pink insides. "Did you miss having my body, nephew?" she asked him as he crawled onto her bed. She inhaled deeply when he grabbed her ankles and pulled her body to him.
"Indeed I did," he told her, placing one of her legs over his powerful shoulder while he pushed her other thigh flat against the bed. Her pussy was spread open, wet, and ready for him. Cersei cried out when he teased her engorged clit with his thumb. "Then wait no longer. Take me!" she begged as he leaned forward. Her leg was pushed back toward her body as his lips came closer to her. Cersei shuddered when his lips brushed against her soft, pink ones. She opened her mouth slightly, breathing heavily. When his lips finally touched hers, she nearly came on the spot. She actually did orgasm only a second later when his cock easily slipped between her hot, wet folds.
This was better than her dreams, Cersei thought as inch after inch of his perfect manhood stretched her tight tunnel. There wasn't even the slightest amount of resistance as he pushed all of the way in. She was wetter than she had ever been. When she first returned to Westeros, she didn't realize how much she would miss The White Pearl of Essos, as the rich merchants she socialized with called the city. Most of her longing, however, wasn't directed at the city itself, but rather, it was directed at the man currently thrusting his hips and hitting her favorite spot deep within her. On her very first night in the Red Keep, she found herself tossing and turning. Her dreams and desires wouldn't give her a moment of peace. All she could think about was Harold slamming her onto the bed and taking her body like some ravenous barbarian. Oh, how thankful she was that she was back home … and now, his cock was back home where it belonged, she thought to herself as he hit her g-spot. Cersei clawed at the bed as she came again. Her velvety walls rippled and fluttered around his magnificent girth.
Her nipples ached when they pressed against his hard chest, and as her body moved, they were dragged back and forth across his skin. Sparks of pleasure raced up and down her spine. He then broke the kiss and flipped her over onto her belly. She felt his hands pull at her hips until her ass was up in the air. The cool air blowing against her smoldering pussy sent shivers down her body. Her knees were forced apart, fully exposing her wet cunt. Cersei's eyes fluttered when his hands gently slid over her soft, smooth skin. His fingertips glided up the backs of her thighs, and he gripped her cheeks tightly. Cersei pressed her face against the bed when he spread her open. She knew what he was going for.
Sure enough, she felt his finger circling the rim of her asshole. His fingertip then dipped down and collected some of her wetness from her sopping-wet pussy. Bringing it back up, he began massaging her hole which made her mewl in pleasure.
Harry chortled at Cersei's reactions. It was clear that she missed his body. Knowing that she wouldn't see, Harry used his magic to help lube up her asshole. Harry inserted the tip of his finger into her hole and pushed all the way in. Once knuckle deep, he spurted lube from the tip of his finger directly inside of her. Cersei squealed, and her hole clamped down on his finger. Harry began thrusting his finger until her tight hole was a bit looser. With her hole ready, Harry settled behind her and placed the tip of his cock against her hole. Adding a bit of pressure, he pushed on it until the head popped into the hole.
Biting down on the blanket, Cersei cried out as her asshole stretched. She grunted as he pushed farther in and squealed as he pulled back out. "I missed your lovely ass," Harry said, pushing his shaft deeper.
Her body jerked back and forth as her nephew took liberties with her body that she would never allow anyone else to take. She would never tell anyone, but she loved the sensation of having her ass taken by him. The pleasure was beyond words. It was a strange sensation to be sure, but she enjoyed it thoroughly. The deeper he went, the more her pussy would tingle. Fat beads of pussy juice were dripping off of her slick cunt and falling onto the bed below. She grunted with every powerful thrust and even arched her back to allow him to fuck her harder. Cersei didn't understand how he wasn't tearing her apart, but in the moment, she didn't care one bit. All she cared about was the intense pleasure she was feeling, especially when he reached down and shoved two fingers into her pussy. His fingers curled expertly and touched her g-spot. She could hear the squelching and sloshing of her pussy, and it amazed her at how wet she was.
A pathetic whine escaped her lips and was muffled by the bed. Her pussy was already actively trying to milk his cock as her low, steady orgasm carried on with every thrust of his wonderful cock. His fingers were hitting spots that only he could somehow reach. When she heard his familiar low moan, she knew that he was getting close. Tightening her ass around his thrusting shaft, she threw her ass back and took him as deep as possible. His hands squeezed her waist possessively as a wet heat filled her naughty hole. Suddenly, out of nowhere, what felt like a bolt of pure pleasure shot from his fingers and went straight into her g-spot. Cersei screamed, and her back arched. Her body trembled and spasmed wildly Over and over he fucked her while she suffered through a spectacular analgasm. He then pulled out of her ass and shoved his still-cumming cock into her wet cunt. Cersei collapsed face-first onto the bed where she lay, letting him do whatever he wanted to her body. Once both holes were sufficiently filled with his thick cum, he rolled over and sighed in happiness. He placed his hands behind his head and relaxed. Cersei pulled herself over to him and practically wrapped herself around his body. The orgasm was still ripping through her body, causing her to squeal and mewl with every pulse of pleasure. Placing her head on his chest, she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart while both holes leaked his essence. It was good to be back home, she happily thought as she began placing kisses all over his nude body.
Chapter 54
Harry groaned, arched his back slightly, and stretched his legs as he woke. By his side was Cersei whose beautiful, blonde hair was a tangled mess. Her head was on his chest, and her arm was securely holding onto his arm. Down below, her leg was draped over his thigh. It appeared that she didn't want him to leave the bed. Harry snorted lightly as he yawned. 'The poor woman just couldn't get enough last night,' Harry thought. Harry wondered about how sexually repressed she had been while staying in the Westerosi capital. Even in her sleep, she was gently grinding her crotch against his thigh. Fading from view, Harry appeared standing up right next to the bed. Cersei didn't wake up. She was too tired from the long night.
Harry didn't need a watch to tell him that it was mid-morning, and unfortunately, he couldn't spend all day in bed. Shaking his head at the sight of his lightly-snoring aunt, he went to get ready for the new day.
The copy of himself that he had left with the Stark women had to deal with the aftermath of telling them that Robb had been slain. As expected, there was a joyous reunion now that Arya was back and safe which was quickly followed by a lot of crying and sadness at the tragic news. The copy of Harry had done its best to console them, but eventually, they made their way to their rooms to talk things over as a family. A lot of serious decisions needed to be made, but first, they needed to figure out what was going on at Winterfell.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Asha Greyjoy slowly made their way through the Wolfswood toward their ultimate goal … Winterfell. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't be going anywhere near that frozen heap of bricks. Her home was the sea. When her brother sent her a letter asking if she would help hold the castle upon taking it, her first instinct was to decline his request. She didn't even want to be in the Deepwood Motte, but she had her orders, and she would follow them to the letter. Her father, Balon Greyjoy, had bided his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Once Robb Stark had taken his army far south and was solely focused on capturing King's Landing, he knew it was time to invade the North. The fact that the Tulley bitch and her daughters were gone only made it easier. There were only a couple of children left to defend the keep.
This, however, raised a problem for Asha. She figured that though the chance was small, there was a chance that Theon would be granted the Salt Throne no matter how much she deserved it. She was the one who was out there raiding and reaving, bringing glory to the Iron Islands. She was the one bringing home thralls and salt wives. She had paid the Iron Price a hundred times over. How many times had her brother paid it? Asha snorted at the thought. He knew nothing of their ways. He was an Ironborn by name only, and still, it was possible, however slim, that he could be chosen simply because he had a cock hanging between his legs. 'But he wouldn't be chosen if he wasn't there,' Asha had sneakily thought. That left her with two choices. She could either have him killed, or she could make sure that he didn't return to the Iron Islands. The latter seemed like the less risky choice. So instead of rejecting his request, she agreed and began the long march.
The journey hadn't been easy for the Ironborn. The first leg of the journey had been. They were traveling by sea after all. Asha had first stopped by the Ten Towers on the island of Harlaw to visit her mother. It was a sad sight to see her mother in such poor health, Asha had thought. Still, she carried on with her journey. Over the Sunset Sea, she and her men had sailed. They traveled north until they entered the strait just south of Bear Island and made their way southeast to Deepwood Motte. Her thirty longships landed on the tidal flats just north of the castle, and after a month-long battle and siege, her thousand men had taken Deepwood with minimal losses.
Asha had never felt so alive. After her brother Theon had been taken, she had worked hard to be seen as a legitimate possible heir to her father's throne. Now that she was winning battles, she felt as though she had truly earned the position. However, taking Deepwood wasn't the hard part. They still had the long trek through the thick, rocky, woods that cut between the Northern Mountains and the Rills. The journey ahead of them was going to be a long and cold one. Her fears had turned out to be legitimate. Of the thousand men she had brought along, over a hundred had died along the way. Most had come down with some shivering sickness that was unknown to them. A few had fallen and had cracked their skulls on the sharp rock. One of her men had fallen and broke his back. He had begged and pleaded to be carried along, but they outright refused. She tolerated only the strong amongst her ranks. His only choice was to be left there alone or the sword. In the end, they put him to the sword despite his wishes. His constant pleas had annoyed her.
Their journey, though long and tiresome, was important, and it was nearly coming to an end. Winterfell was only a week away, and after they had captured the castle, she could finally make her way back to the Iron Islands where she longed to be.
The Dread Lord of Essos
It was a few days later that Harry received news from his drones who had attempted to deliver a fresh shipment of goods to Deepwood. His trade ships didn't get out to Deepwood and Bear Island very often due to them having to sail all the way around Dorne and up through the Sunset Sea. He was planning on having them arrive every couple of months with fresh stocks of dried fruits and vegetables, grains, flour, and plenty of salted meats on top of the normal stock of fresh foods. That part of the North was sparsely populated, so it didn't need a constant stream of supplies for the people to survive healthily. Harry was surprised to find that a contingent of Ironborn was in control of the castle and held Robett Glover's family hostage. Robett, unfortunately, was out helping the Northern Army fight for independence and revenge.
Harry's drones made quick work of the Ironborn when they attempted to board his ships and seize his goods. Retaking the castle was quite easy since the Ironborn weren't known for their skills on dry land. The Glover family had been terrorized by the Ironborn, and as such, they weren't opposed to a bit of torture to find out exactly why they had decided to invade the North. Through some gentle persuasion, they learned that a force of a thousand more, which was headed by Asha Greyjoy, was making its way through the Wolfswood to help Theon Greyjoy sack Winterfell and take the North in the name of the Iron Island.
This left Harry in a bit of a dilemma. For his plans to continue as they were, he would need the two Stark boys gone. Harry, of course, was more than a little hesitant to let innocent children die for the sake of his fun and games. Thankfully, there happened to be another answer to his quandary that didn't involve killing. He could take the boys out of the situation while keeping them alive and healthy. Harry would just have to wait for the right opportunity.
The Dread Lord of Essos
"Oh! That's good," Harry moaned as Catelyn rolled her hips faster and faster. Harry's hands moved up her thighs, and he relished in the sensation of her smooth skin brushing against his palms. Her tits, which were surprisingly perky for her age, were bouncing around and jiggling in a way that held his attention. Her pussy, though it wasn't nearly as tight as Sansa's, was still good enough to squeeze his cock in a way that had him constantly close to cumming. He moved his hands from her thighs to her tits and squeezed them tightly. Catelyn gasped and arched her back, thrusting her breasts harder into his hands. One of the things he loved about fucking women of Catelyn, Alerie, and Cersei's age was that they loved to fuck, and they weren't shy or nervous about showing it.
Sansa, though he loved having her in bed, was still young and inexperienced. As such, at times she could be unsure and timid in bed. Of course, when that happened, Harry would take over and dominate the poor girl, giving her multiple orgasms until she passed out from the pleasure. She would learn over time, Harry knew, just as every other woman did. Still, it was nice sometimes to just lay back and let an experienced woman work your cock, Harry thought as he did just that. Even so, Catelyn was being a bit more exuberant than normal, and Harry knew the reason as to why.
Her eyes fluttered as waves of auburn hair cascaded over her pale shoulder, covering one breast. Harry felt her insides clutch him as her hips rolled in a circular pattern. Catelyn leaned down, placing her hands on his pecs as she ground herself hard against him. Her long hair fell forward, tickling his chest as she attempted to make him cum. "It will be such a shame if this is one of our last times together," she gasped as her body shook. He could feel her trembling from both the pleasure and her nervousness.
"Yes …" Harry moaned as her pussy became incredibly slick, a clear sign that she was beginning to cream. "... that would be a shame. But what are we to do? You and your daughters will be going back to Winterfell. It pains me to think of how close we have become," he said while pulling her top half down and holding it in place as he fucked her fast and hard from below. Catelyn squealed like a young woman experiencing anal for the first time. Her pussy tightened, and the sounds coming from it were growing louder and wetter. He could feel her pussy juice wetting his thighs. Harry then flipped her over so that he was fiercely thrusting between her wide-open thighs. Catelyn's eyes were wide and wild with passion. "Especially Sansa and I. It is a shame we will be parted. Who knows what our future would have been," Harry said, keeping the smile from his lips.
It was more than obvious that Catelyn and Sansa wanted him to escort them home. For Harry, it would be an easy task. A clone of himself was still with the Tyrells at Highgarden after all. It would be nothing to be with the Starks at Winterfell. Harry was already planning to do just that, but he wanted the Stark women to be desperate. Desperation was good for him and bad for them. People made poor choices when desperate enough. "Indeed!" Catelyn squealed as she came on his cock. "That is why we decided to convince you to join us at Winterfell … at least for a while. We wish to show you the same hospitality that you have shown us."
"Oh? And how do you plan on convincing me?" Harry asked with amusement as he angled his cock and hit her g-spot again, making her orgasm hit stronger. Her inner walls were rippling and massaging his thrusting shaft.
"Sansa, darling?!" Catelyn called out through her orgasm. Just then, the door quietly opened, and her daughter entered his room wearing a thin, silk robe that did little to hide her body underneath. Harry looked over and saw that her nipples were rock-hard and poking against the light, airy fabric. Her pale cheeks were pink with embarrassment. He realized that she had been outside the door listening to him fucking her mother the entire time. Sansa slowly shrugged off the delicate material, and it pooled at her feet. She stepped out of it and joined him on the bed while he continued to make her mother cum. Waddling up behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled his shoulder with her small nose and soft lips.
"It appears that we got his attention, my sweetling," Catelyn moaned as her walls gripped him, and didn't want to let go. "I can feel him twitching and pulsing inside of me," she giggled, gripping the bedsheets and arching her back so that her lovely tits were thrust into the air. Part of her words were to make him even more aroused, but Harry knew that she was also throwing the fact that he was currently fucking her, into her daughter's face. Like Margaery and Alerie, Catelyn and Sansa were a bit competitive when it came to bouncing on his cock. Each wanted to be the preferred one. Harry didn't mind one bit. It only made things spicier. On occasion, Harry would bring them both in at the same time and take turns fucking them while the other watched. He had to let them know that he was the boss around here. Now that they wanted something from him, he was going to make them earn it.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Sansa pressed her naked breasts against his bare back and wrapped her arms around his waist. She leaned over and kissed his broad shoulder, and she took a quick sniff of his skin. The smell of his body always got her wet and right then was no different. Being in the same bed as her mother wasn't anything new to her. She had been fucked in front of her mother by Harold at least a dozen times before. It was embarrassing to be sure, but she was doing her duty to her family and the North. Of course, she would prefer to be with Harold in private, which she often was, but sometimes he liked to spice things up. When the three were together, both she and her mother saw how animalistic he became. He would fold them in half and fuck them until sun-up, leaving them exhausted and sore.
When her mother came to her earlier that day, she explained that she was to join them in bed and that the pair would do their very best to convince him to join them at Winterfell. As much as Sansa did not want to go back to that cold, dreary castle, she knew that there was no choice. With her father and oldest brother dead and the North still at war, there would likely be someone trying to take things that didn't belong to them … especially the title of Lord of the North. That title now belonged to her younger brother, Bran, but there would be those who would use his young age against him. That's why they needed to get back to Winterfell as soon as possible. They were to set sail the following day and possibly leave Harold and his beautiful city forever. That thought did not sit well with her. She wanted him with her, as did her mother. They also needed him to come to Winterfell. If it was known that the Dread Lord was there and that they were under his protection, no one would have the guts to move against them. Perhaps then she could one day return with him, and he would make her his queen. Sansa shivered against his warm body at the thought. All of this, however, hinged on his decision whether or not to follow them home. They needed to convince him. It was absolutely imperative.
Sansa let out an aroused gasp when the tips of her hard nipples rubbed against his skin. The smell of sex hung heavy in the air, and her mother's moans of pleasure were loud to her ears. Her hands moved from his pecs down to his muscled stomach. Sansa loved feeling the hard muscles of his abs rippling. However, at the moment they were rippling because he was thrusting between her mother's spread legs. At that moment though, he pulled out, and Sansa saw inch after inch of his perfect cock slip from inside her mother. When his cock bounced free, it was shiny with her mother's wetness. "Go ahead, Sansa," she heard Harold's manly voice.
Flushing red, she moved around to his side and leaned down. The tip of his wet cock touched her lips before she opened her mouth and took his head in. Immediately, she could taste her mother's arousal on him. Harold moaned, and that was enough to get her going. She pushed her head forward and took him in further. His hand was then placed on the back of her head, and his hips began moving. Sansa closed her eyes and did the best job that she possibly could as the head of his cock slipped into her throat. She gagged, and her eyes watered profusely as he fucked her mouth. She couldn't see that beside her, her mother was masturbating at the sight of his glorious body. Sansa was just about to run out of air when his cock was pulled from her lips. She gasped loudly, sucking in deep breaths as she wiped the saliva from her lips and the moisture from her eyes. His cock was sticking out long and proud, and once again, she marveled at the length and thickness. Her eyes traveled the veins of his cock like rivers on a map. His cock was still shiny with wetness, but instead of her mother's fluids, it was wet with her saliva. This filled her with a sense of satisfaction, and she quickly reached out and grabbed his length. Her hand immediately began stroking him while he was stroking her mother's damp slit with his thumb. His other hand snaked between her legs, and his fingers began to toy with her slit. "Your daughter is nice and wet," she heard him say to her mother. Sansa's cheeks heated up, but she really couldn't deny it. She was wet … very wet, in fact, and his fingers rubbing along her sensitive slit was only making her wetter.
Suddenly, she found herself lifted up, and her body was placed facedown on top of her mother's body. They were face to face, and their tits were mashed together. She could feel her mother's hard nipples pressing firmly against her delicate skin, and she could feel her mother's body trembling. Sansa opened her legs a bit so that they rested on each side of her mother's outer thighs. Her heart was beating fast as Harold positioned her body to his liking. The bed was jostling, and Sansa looked back just as she felt the head of his cock rubbing against her opening. She gasped loudly as he pushed into her with a single thrust. Her taut lips were forced apart, and her tunnel walls were stretched to accommodate his impressive girth. Every time with him felt like her first time, Sansa thought as there was an initial flash of pain from being stretched. Harold pulled back and pushed forward again, drawing a shuddered moan from her lovely lips. Below her, she could feel her mother squirming. Within seconds, Harold was full-blown fucking her just as he had done a hundred times before, and for some reason, each time always felt better than the previous.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Harry smirked as he began power-fucking Sansa who was draped across her mother's length. He found that he didn't even need to lift her hips up. They were moving up on their own. It wasn't a surprise to him. While she was very much the romantic type in all other circumstances, Sansa loved to be fucked like a whore in bed. She loved having her ass up in the air while he mercilessly pounded her from behind. Almost as soon as the tip of his cock touched her g-spot, Sansa began mewling and moaning harder and with more passion than she normally did. 'She's putting on a show for her mother,' Harry amusedly thought as her cheeks clapped together. Harry then pulled out, much to Sansa's disappointment. He easily slipped his cock between Catelyn's folds and fucked her while using her daughter's juices as a lubricant. It only took a few thrusts before she was also moaning like a whore. After a minute inside of Catelyn, he pulled out and switched back to Sansa. 'The only thing that would have made this better was if Arya had joined in,' Harry thought as Sansa squeezed his cock with her silky walls. 'Soon,' Harry promised himself while using his thumb to massage Sansa's asshole.
"Please, Harold … I need more!" Catelyn moaned out her needy plea. Harry smiled naughtily and lifted Sansa off of her. The young redhead squealed as she was placed down between her mother's spread legs. He heard Sansa gasp as she came face to face with Catelyn's dripping-wet pussy. Harry's hand immediately found Sansa's upturned pussy, and he eagerly rubbed the length of her slit. He made sure to give her swollen clit plenty of attention. Sansa was wiggling her ass against his hand, letting him know that she was desperate for more. Placing his head against her folds, Harry pushed in and moaned from her wet tightness. Being inside of Sansa was heavenly, Harry thought as he fucked her harder and harder. There was never a point in which her walls weren't clutching him. She too was moaning as Catelyn continued to squirm underneath her. "Harold!" Catelyn cried out with a desperate look in her eyes. Harry gently fisted a handful of Sansa's lovely hair at the back of her head and pushed her face down into Catelyn's sloppy pussy. Catelyn gasped in shock when Sansa's lips touched her flowering folds. From the way that her eyes fluttered, Harry guessed that Sansa had gotten the message and began licking her. The sounds of slurping only a few seconds later confirmed it for him. Holding her head and pressing her face between Catelyn's legs, Harry angled his thrusts so that he was hitting her g-spot with every clap of her cheeks. With his free hand, he reached underneath her and flicked his fingers against her hard clit. Sansa let out a loud moan which in turn caused vibrations to stimulate Catelyn's clit. Catelyn moaned loudly and grabbed the back of Sansa's head. Harry moved his hand and placed it underneath Sansa.
He loved the soft smoothness of her young, supple body. Her hips were wide and her belly was toned. Like her mother, Sansa was made for bearing children. His hand climbed up her belly and onto one of her perky tits. He gave her breast a squeeze, feeling her hard nipple slip between his fingers. He closed his fingers and pinched her nipple between them. Her pussy sounded so wet as he stuffed her over and over.
With his other hand, Harry rubbed his fingers back and forth over her clit until she squealed loudly into her mother's wet cunt. Immediately, Sansa clamped down on him and set off his own orgasm. He grunted and thrust his cock as deep as it could go. Just as he began to spill his cum into Sansa, Catelyn cried out and squeezed her legs shut, trapping Sansa's face against her pussy. Harry watched as her body bucked and spasmed. When she finally opened her legs, Sansa lifted her face up and it was covered with pussy juice. Sansa fell forward, breathing heavily even as Harry continued to cum. When his cock slipped out of her cumming pussy, Harry shot his last load of seed onto her naked ass. Both women were tangled up, breathing like they had just run a marathon. Harry, however, was stroking his cock back to hardness. If they wanted him at Winterfell, they were going to offer a lot more than just that.