Rhaenys Targaryen [PIC]
The heavy oak door of Rhaenys's bedchamber clicked shut, instantly muffling the distant, echoing roar of the Great Hall. Cregan leaned his broad shoulders against the wood, letting out a long, slow exhale.
Across the room, Rhaenys walked toward the blazing hearth. The firelight danced across the dark, curling waves of her hair and the rich olive tone of her skin, turning her into a living flame. She poured two goblets of dark Dornish wine, her movements fluid and precise, but her hands trembled just slightly—betraying the hunger she tried to hide.
She turned, handing him a goblet. Cregan took it, his thick fingers deliberately brushing against hers. He did not drink. His storm-grey eyes locked entirely on her, drinking in every inch.
"I missed your warmth," Rhaenys said softly, setting her own goblet aside. Her voice was low, laced with need.
She closed the distance, stepping fully into his personal space. She had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze, her dark, calculating eyes softening with raw desire. "Winterfell was far too cold while you were away."
Cregan set his goblet down on a nearby chest without taking a sip. His jaw tightened, the iron control he maintained in the training yards and the Great Hall beginning to fracture at the edges.
"And I missed yours," he murmured, his voice dropping to a deep, husky whisper that vibrated through her. "The ice and the bogs had nothing on this."
Before she could respond, Rhaenys rose onto her toes and crashed her lips against his. The kiss was immediate, desperate—a collision of fire and frost, survival and aching need. She tasted of dark wine and smoldering embers. Cregan groaned low in his throat, one large hand sliding to the small of her back, pulling her flush against his solid frame.
Their mouths moved together hungrily, tongues dancing, teeth grazing. Rhaenys's hands roamed over his broad chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath the leather tunic. She broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against his lips, "Let me undress you."
Cregan's eyes darkened with approval. He stood still, towering over her, giving her permission with a single nod. "As you wish… for now."
Her fingers worked quickly but reverently, tugging at the heavy leather laces of his tunic. She peeled the garment away, revealing the expanse of his pale chest—thick cords of muscle, faded white lines from years of brutal northern training. She leaned in to press open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone.
Cregan's breath hitched, but he let her explore, his hands resting lightly on her hips.
When she reached for his breeches, he caught her wrists gently but firmly. "Enough," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Turn around."
Rhaenys's pulse spiked. She obeyed, turning slowly so her back faced him. The firelight cast long shadows across the room, making the moment feel intimate and charged.
Cregan stepped close, his chest brushing her shoulders. His large hands found the intricate laces and knots of her dark wool and leather riding dress. He took his time, fingers deliberate and teasing as he loosened each tie. "You wear too many layers, my dragon," he murmured against her ear, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. "I want nothing between us tonight."
One by one, the knots came undone. The heavy fabric loosened, then slid down her body like molten silk, pooling silently at her feet.
Rhaenys stood bare before him, her lithe, strong form glowing in the firelight—smooth olive skin, the elegant curve of her spine, the flare of her hips, and the perfect swell of her breasts.
Cregan's gaze raked over her hungrily. He drank in every detail, then without warning, he scooped her up in his arms in a princess carry, one arm beneath her knees, the other supporting her back.
Rhaenys gasped, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.
He carried her the few steps to the massive, fur-draped bed and laid her down gently on the thick wolf pelts. The soft furs caressed her naked skin, a stark contrast to the cool air and the heat building inside her.
Cregan straightened, his eyes never leaving hers. He crossed to a nearby cupboard, the muscles in his back flexing as he moved. He returned with several long strips of soft, dark cloth—clean linen, strong yet gentle against the skin—and a few additional items he had prepared beforehand: a length of finer silk for blindfolding, a supple leather belt from his own gear, and a small vial of scented oil that smelled of winter pine and spice.
Rhaenys's breath quickened as he approached the bed. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss that left her dizzy. "Trust me?" he whispered against her lips, his voice a low rumble that resonated through the Force like distant thunder.
"Always," she breathed, the word laced with both surrender and challenge.
He took her wrists, guiding them above her head to the carved wooden headboard. With practiced, careful movements, he tied her hands securely but not painfully, the cloth soft against her skin. The restraint sent a thrill through her—the vulnerability, the surrender to his control. Then he produced the silk strip, folding it carefully before tying it over her eyes. The world went dark, heightening every other sense: the crackle of the fire, the scent of pine oil, the heat of his body.
"Perfect," he murmured, kissing her again, slower this time, savoring the way her lips parted under his.
His mouth began its descent, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the elegant column of her neck. He nipped at the sensitive skin, sucking lightly to leave faint marks that would bloom by morning. Lower still, he reached her breasts. He cupped one in his large hand, thumb brushing the already hardened nipple in slow circles. His mouth closed over the other, sucking gently at first, then harder, drawing a deep moan from her throat as his tongue swirled around the peak.
"Cregan…" she gasped, arching into the touch, wrists pulling against the ties.
He switched sides, lavishing the same attention on the other nipple before grazing it with his teeth—biting just hard enough to send a sharp spike of pleasure-pain through her.
Rhaenys cried out, her back arching sharply off the furs. The blindfold made every sensation sharper, the darkness turning the pleasure into something almost overwhelming.
He continued downward, kissing a slow path over her ribs, her stomach, the sensitive dip of her hips. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he pressed a soft kiss directly to her pussy, his breath hot against her already slick folds.
Rhaenys whimpered, hips twitching helplessly.
Cregan pulled back just enough to grasp her ankles. He spread her legs wide and tied each one securely to the posts at the foot of the bed, leaving her completely open and exposed to him. The position left her helpless, every inch of her on display, the cool air kissing her heated core.
He moved back up her body, kissing her deeply once more, letting her taste the faint salt of her own arousal on his lips. "Look at you," he murmured, even though she could not see. "Spread open for me. So wet already. So beautiful. So mine."
His hands returned to her breasts, kneading them firmly, thumbs circling the sensitive peaks. He pinched and rolled her nipples until she was writhing, moaning his name like a prayer.
Then he slid lower again. This time, his mouth found her pussy with devastating precision. He licked her slowly, teasingly—long, flat strokes of his tongue over her clit, then dipping inside her. He sucked gently, then harder, alternating rhythms that built her pleasure higher and higher… only to pull back at the last second, denying her release.
Rhaenys's hips bucked desperately against the restraints. "Cregan… please…"
He smirked against her, the expression dark and predatory even if she could not see it. "Not yet, my dragon. I want you aching for me."
He added two thick fingers, curling them just right to stroke that sensitive spot inside her while his tongue flicked relentlessly over her clit.
The blindfold amplified everything—the wet sounds of his mouth, the stretch of his fingers. Every time she neared the edge, he slowed or pulled away entirely, kissing the inside of her thigh instead, leaving her trembling and whimpering.
"Please… I need to come… Cregan,"
He rose slightly, freeing his cock from his remaining clothes. It was thick, heavy, and already leaking with need.
He positioned himself between her spread thighs and rubbed the swollen head slowly up and down her slick folds, coating himself in her wetness, teasing her entrance without pushing inside.
The blindfold made the anticipation unbearable; she could only feel the heat of him, the promise of fullness.
Rhaenys moaned loudly, straining against the ties. "Come on, Cregan… put it in. Stop teasing me."
Cregan's smirk deepened, his grey eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. He continued the slow, maddening rub, pressing just the tip against her before pulling back. "Put in what, my lady? Tell me exactly what you want."
She glared beneath the silk, breathing ragged. "Your cock. I want your cock inside me. Don't make me beg."
"Oh, but I do," he said, voice low and commanding, dripping with that Fifty Shades edge of control. "I want to hear you beg for every inch of it. Tell me how badly you need your wolf to fuck you."
He teased her more—rubbing faster now, circling her clit with the head, dipping just inside before withdrawing. The pleasure built unbearably, coiling tighter in her core. She fought it for long, torturous minutes, pride warring with need.
Finally, Rhaenys broke, the words spilling out in a desperate sob. "Please, Cregan… I'm begging you. Put your thick cock inside me. Fuck me hard. Fill me up. I need it—please, my lord, I'm yours!"
"Good girl," he growled, the praise sending a fresh rush of heat through her. With one smooth, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her. Rhaenys cried out in pure pleasure, her walls stretching around his thick length, the fullness overwhelming and perfect in the darkness.
He held still for a moment, letting her adjust, savoring the tight, pulsing heat of her. Then he began to move—slow, deliberate, teasing strokes. In and out at a maddeningly languid pace, never giving her enough friction to reach climax.
Every thrust was deep, but controlled. He watched her face, drinking in every moan, every desperate twist of her bound body. "Feel that? Every inch of me claiming you. You're mine to tease, mine to please."
Rhaenys whimpered, lost in the sensation.
After long, torturous minutes, Cregan's control frayed. He began to move faster—normal, powerful thrusts that rocked the heavy bed. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mingling with her broken moans and his low groans. He drove into her harder, deeper, one hand gripping her hip while the other braced beside her head.
Rhaenys shattered first—her orgasm crashing over her like wildfire. She screamed his name, her body convulsing around him, inner walls clamping down in rhythmic pulses that milked him relentlessly.
The intensity pulled Cregan over the edge with her. With a guttural groan, he thrust deep one final time and spilled inside her, his heavy frame shuddering as wave after wave of release tore through him.
They stayed locked together, breathing hard, sweat-slicked skin pressed close. Cregan gently removed the blindfold, kissing her eyelids as the firelight returned. He freed her legs but left her hands tied, then flipped her onto her stomach with effortless strength, pulling her hips up so she was on her knees—ass raised, face pressed into the furs.
"Beautiful," he murmured, running a hand over the curve of her spine. He reached for the leather belt, doubling it over in his fist. The first firm swat landed on her right cheek with a sharp crack. The sting bloomed into heat, and Rhaenys gasped, pushing back against him instinctively.
He alternated sides, each measured smack building the fire in her skin while his free hand soothed the marks. "Count them for me," he commanded softly.
"One… two… three…" she breathed, voice trembling with arousal.
By ten, her ass glowed pink, and she was dripping down her thighs. Cregan positioned himself behind her and thrust back inside in one smooth motion.
This time the pace was relentless—deep, punishing strokes that had her moaning into the furs. He spanked her in rhythm with his thrusts, the sharp cracks echoing through the chamber, each one sending fresh sparks straight to her clit.
"Take it," he growled, voice rough with renewed lust. "Take everything I give you, dragon. Let me feel how much you love being mine."
Rhaenys could only moan in response, lost in the overwhelming sensations—the stretch of him inside her, the sting of leather and palm, the helplessness that made her clench harder around him.
He fucked her through another orgasm, then another, never slowing. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks as he chased his own pleasure again, spilling deep inside her with a roar.
Cregan untied her hands completely then, massaging the faint red lines with gentle thumbs and oil from the vial. He pulled her into his lap, cradling her against his chest, murmuring praise into her hair. "You were perfect. So strong. So beautiful when you let go." He offered her wine from the goblet, holding it to her lips, then kissed away the drops that spilled down her chin. They rested like that for long minutes fire warming frost, frost tempering fire.
But the night was young, and the bond between them demanded more.
"Again," Rhaenys whispered, voice husky, her dark eyes meeting his with fresh hunger. "I want to feel you everywhere."
Cregan's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. He laid her back on the furs and retrieved more cloth. This time he bound her wrists together in front of her, then looped the long end around the headboard again—keeping her arms stretched taut. He added the silk blindfold once more, plunging her into darkness. "Then you'll take what I give you, on my terms. No rushing. No mercy until I say."
He started with the oil, warming it between his palms before massaging it into her skin—shoulders, breasts, stomach, thighs. The scent of pine filled the air as his hands worked the tension from her muscles, turning every touch into foreplay. He lingered on her breasts, rolling her nipples between oiled fingers until they were tight peaks, then leaned down to suck one into his mouth while pinching the other.
Rhaenys arched, moaning, the slick glide of his hands making her skin hypersensitive.
His mouth traveled lower, kissing down her body until he settled between her thighs again. This time he took his time exploring—long, slow licks along her folds, sucking her clit gently, then thrusting his tongue inside her. He added fingers, three this time, stretching her while his mouth worked her clit in tight circles.
The blindfold made her focus on the wet sounds, the feel of his stubble against her thighs, the way the Force let her sense his own arousal building like a storm.
He edged her mercilessly—bringing her to the brink four times, each denial longer than the last—until she was sobbing, hips grinding against his face. "Cregan… please… I can't… I need to come…"
Only then did he relent, sucking hard on her clit while his fingers curled inside her. Rhaenys came with a guttural cry, her release flooding his mouth. He drank every drop, prolonging it until she was shaking.
He removed the blindfold again, wanting to see her eyes this time. Freeing her wrists briefly, he pulled her on top of him, guiding her to straddle his hips. "Ride me," he commanded, voice thick. "But slow. I control the pace."
Rhaenys sank down onto his cock, taking him inch by inch with a moan. She began to move, rolling her hips in languid circles, but Cregan's hands on her waist dictated the rhythm—slow, grinding, never letting her bounce hard enough to come. He sat up, capturing a nipple in his mouth while one hand slipped between them to rub her clit in time with her movements.
"You feel incredible," he groaned against her skin. "So tight. So wet for your wolf."
She tried to speed up, but he held her firm, forcing her to savor every drag of his thick length. She begged again—"Please, let me come on your cock"—he finally allowed it, thrusting up hard to meet her as she shattered around him. He followed, filling her with hot pulses.
Then Cregan carried her to the stone wall beside the hearth, the cool surface a shock against her heated back. Pinning her there with his body, he hooked her legs around his waist and thrust back inside her standing. The angle was new, deeper, hitting spots that made her see stars. He fucked her slow at first, grinding deep, then faster, the slap of skin echoing off the stone. His mouth claimed hers, swallowing her cries as another orgasm built and crashed through her.
Later, he laid her on the thick rug before the fire, spreading her legs wide and sliding between them missionary-style. This time there were no ties—just his hands pinning her wrists above her head as he drove into her with deep, powerful strokes. "Eyes on me," he ordered. The firelight painted their bodies in gold and shadow, highlighting every flex of muscle, every flush of skin. He whispered filthy praises—"Such a good girl taking my cock so deep"—and tender ones—"I've never wanted anyone like this."
Rhaenys came twice more before he spilled inside her again, their shared climax amplified by the Force until it felt like the world narrowed to just them.
In the final round, he unbound her completely. They moved together on the bed in a tangle of limbs—her riding him reverse cowgirl, hands braced on his thighs as she bounced, his fingers digging into her hips; then him behind her in a deep doggy, pulling her hair just enough to arch her back while spanking her glowing ass.
They came together one last time in a slow, sensual rhythm—face to face, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling. "Mine," he growled. "Yours," she answered, voice breaking.
Only when the first grey light of dawn crept through the high windows did they finally collapse, utterly exhausted, bodies tangled in the ruined furs. Sweat cooled on their skin.
Marks—bites, handprints, faint rope burns, the pink bloom of the belt—decorated them both like badges of their shared surrender and conquest.
Cregan pulled the thick wolf pelts over them, tucking Rhaenys against his chest. Her head rested over his heart, one leg thrown over his. She traced idle patterns across his ribs. He massaged her wrists and shoulders with more oil, whispering praises and soft kisses until she sighed in perfect contentment.
He kissed the top of her head, arm wrapped securely around her waist, holding her tight against the cold of the world outside.
They did not know what their parents were planning in the deeper chambers of the keep, nor did they care about the politics of the realm. As the fire burned low in the hearth, tangling the shadows of the direwolf and the dragon against the stone walls, their bond was forged entirely on their own terms—deeper, hotter, more unbreakable than before.
Let the dead march, and let the South bleed. In the freezing dark of the long winter, they would face the end of the world together—bodies spent, hearts full, souls forever entwined in fire and frost.