DANCING WITH DRAGONS ;; a collection of imagines.

jacaerys targaryen ; bruising kisses

⁀➷ summary ; drabble requested by anon for my 1k follower celebration on tumblr.

"#15 types of kisses + jace. Congrats on 1k you deserve it, I love your writing style."
"15. A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick."

⁀➷ pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x reader

⁀➷ notes ; i'm so touch deprived :/

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stifled, hearty giggles fill that air as jacaerys nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. his hair tickles your ear, just barely touching the sweet spot that's settled below your earlobe.

it's barely been a fortnight since the wedding between you, and by all the gods, the old, the new, the ones from old valyria – jacaerys could not get enough of you.

whether it was the sweet perfumed oils you wore, the sounds of laughter that always accompanied wherever you went, or the way his name rolled of your tongue, jacaerys was sickeningly in love.

"jacaerys," your hands find their way to his shoulders, trying your best to muster the strength. your core is burning with a fire you've never felt before – your arms weak against his stronger brawn. "jacaerys, we're having lunch with lord rosby and his wife."

"forget lord rosby," jace speaks into your skin, the warmth from the tip of his tongue spreading to your the soft slope of your jaw. he moves apart, just enough so he can see the whole of your face. his lashes kiss the dappled skin underneath as he looks at you, a puff of hair fanning over your face. "i want you."

lips curling into a mischievous smile, jacaerys moves forward before there's any mumbles of protest. his lips connect with yours – the force harsh enough to bruise and stimulate pleasure with the pain. the action alone elicits a hum that mixes with a moan.

he turns his head, head so that the kiss is deepened between you. he opens his mouth enough to suck your bottom lip into his, his teeth enclosing around the flesh to place a well-landed bite. before you can gasp, his tongue swiping over the wound to soothe the pain that began to radiate. there's a taste of copper on his tastebuds, one that begins to stir excitement.

"lord rosby will take it as an insult," you warn, your tongue slithering out to wet your lips. your hands gently massage his scalp, his browns locks soft and bending to your touch.

"lord rosby can wait," jace retorts, pulling back to scrunch up his face – a fake displeasure. he was to roll his eyes and shut the rest of the world out, with only you and him. with desire slowly building up within his belly, jace was adamant on keeping lord rosby on standby.

"he can't," you drawl out, wiggling free of his tight grasp. you wanted nothing more than to give in, kiss jacaerys all day until the break of dusk, abandoning your duties as prince and princess of dragonstone. "you've put this summons off for far too long, my prince."

jace hates that you're right. he buries his head into the abandoned spot of where your head lain. he inhales deeply, allowing a low, guttural groan to uproot the oxygen that was invested in his lungs.

he gets up and slides off the bed with ease, moving to find his tunic that was strewn on the floor during the mornings escapades.

if only he could think of a more compelling argument to stay in bed.