[ There is no denying that her hold on him is of equal value, at least in some measure; his adoration for her had been present since she was much younger, almost on the brink of obsession. Perhaps it was, in part, due to her claim to the throne, but there was more to it too - her strength, the fire in her, the pride of her blood and the way she had the heart of the dragon beating inside of her. There is no denying that he has loved her in his own way for many years, and would continue to do so - especially now his visions have proven something, proven enough.
His place is at her side, and Daemon will not sully himself with betraying what he had seen. They are Targaryens, blood of the dragon and pride of the world, and he will see her conquer.
There is no hesitation when her demand comes; Daemon does not subscribe to the notions of shame or embarrassment, not with fucking, not with his history in whorehouses and his enjoyment of pleasure above almost anything else. Rhaenyra tugs him aside, and he follows, as he always ought to have done, at her mercy as much as she is at his. The love and depth of feeling he has for her has not changed, despite his rage and his anger, the frustration, the hurt. ]
Yes. [ A voice hushed against her mouth, leaning into her, brushing their mouths together again as he lifts her up, to have her legs around his waist, to grind himself closer to the warmth of her body. He longs to have her, to fuck and claim her, and it burns inside of her - the need to remind the two of them of the bliss of being together.
Mouth trailing lower, he nips at her neck, hand moving to push her clothing away, to get between her legs and find her pleasure. ]
no subject
His place is at her side, and Daemon will not sully himself with betraying what he had seen. They are Targaryens, blood of the dragon and pride of the world, and he will see her conquer.
There is no hesitation when her demand comes; Daemon does not subscribe to the notions of shame or embarrassment, not with fucking, not with his history in whorehouses and his enjoyment of pleasure above almost anything else. Rhaenyra tugs him aside, and he follows, as he always ought to have done, at her mercy as much as she is at his. The love and depth of feeling he has for her has not changed, despite his rage and his anger, the frustration, the hurt. ]
Yes. [ A voice hushed against her mouth, leaning into her, brushing their mouths together again as he lifts her up, to have her legs around his waist, to grind himself closer to the warmth of her body. He longs to have her, to fuck and claim her, and it burns inside of her - the need to remind the two of them of the bliss of being together.
Mouth trailing lower, he nips at her neck, hand moving to push her clothing away, to get between her legs and find her pleasure. ]