Burn me • Aemond Targaryen

A Thousand Roses

M

Chapter Eighty-One~ A Thousand Roses

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"Have you thought anymore about my suggestion." Aemond sighed. His purple gaze studied his wife as she lay on her front flicking through the pages of a poetry book. Her white waves rested down her back, a top of her soft night shift, which had bunched by the base of her thighs.

"Mhm." Rhaella murmured, turning another page.

"And have you any thoughts on it?" Aemond said, the pads of his fingers drifting to her calf to trace tiny patterns across her skin.

Rhaella turned herself over then, feeling her silver hair spray across the sheets as she stared up at the canopy of the bed. "I have a great number of thoughts on it, yes." She replied, her own hand reaching to trace patterns on her collarbone. "You seemed so angry when I told you that I had sent away our children, yet now you seem too wish to send Vissera on the morrow."

"I wish to keep her safe whilst we take back our throne." Aemond said, his traces stopped but his hand stayed in place.

"It is not our throne." Rhaella replied, tilting her head to see him. He sat, leant against the head board, chest bare and his legs covered by leather trousers.

Aemond felt angered by her words, and his grip wrapped around her leg, snatching her toward him. Rhaella let out a groan, frustrated by her husbands temper. But his grip stayed in place as her leg bent by his side, the other bent up between his legs. She lay still as she looked up at him, her limbs twisted and tangled with his own. She reached her hand up to hold onto his knee, pulling herself so she sat with a leg on either side of his left thigh.

"If you keep saying these lies, they will surely come true and we will spend the rest of our days cooped up here with nothing to our name." He whispered, stroking a hand softly against her cheek.

But Rhaella knew the sour from the sweet, and his loving touches were nothing compared to his hateful grip that was now anchored by the bottom of her wrist. "And who are you to dictate what I deem true, and what I do not?" She smirked, eyes dangerous with an oh so familiar game.

Aemond breathed a laugh. "I am prince regent." He smirked back at her. "Your husband, which in they eyes of many places me as your superior."

"But not in your eyes, you know that." Rhaella smiled, snaking her hand up to the side of his neck, pressing the pads of her fingers into the skin. "Because I would have to cut out the good one if it began to give you a false outlook on life."

Aemond moved quick, pulling her hair into his fist at the scalp, his other hand pressing her against his chest. "Always such sadistic thoughts." He whispered close in her ear, before pulling the lobe between his teeth. His lips danced a trail of kisses now her neck, stopping below her jaw, a place that had her sighing into the air.

"I just wish to remind you what happens when you make the decisions." Rhaella breathed, pulling on his locks, while holding him closer to her.

"You long for control." Aemond said against her skin, biting slightly before soothing it with his tongue. "You want power over others, because you cannot have it over yourself."

"You are wrong." She laughed, but then letting out a gasp when her husband pressed his hand against her breast, pulling on her nipple through the thin fabric. "I have power over myself, as I have power over you."

Aemond smiled then, watching her face twist in lost pleasure as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, She had straddled his thigh when she made an attempt at freeing herself from him before, that was her first mistake. He lifted his leg, till he felt his thigh press against her bare core, and from the look on her face now, he knew she was lost to him. "Go on then." He muttered against her lips, "Take it for yourself."

Rhaella opened her eyes then, staring into the eye of her husband. She felt his hands press into her hips, and move her against his leg. The contact sent slow waves go heaven through her body, and she knew what he wished for her to do.

So she did.

She let her body take control, and in a few short minuets she was rolling her hips above him, letting the pressure from his leg pull moans off sweetness from her throat. Their eyes stayed locked as she moved above him, and Aemond smirked when her eyes grew hazy from the feeling

He let her carry on, grinding against his thigh. Perhaps just to hear those delicate sounds, perhaps to continue feeling that hot burning pit of desire in his stomach as she moved against him. It was vile. Vile how much he desired her. It was almost as if he had never felt what it was like to feel her wrapped around him. Most men stray away from their marital bed, but no Aemond. He could not. He was trapped there forever, trapped in the prison he never wanted to be free from.

He was sure she was heaven. Sure she was a god, sent to make him forget every wagering trouble that he ever though

"So much for control." Aemond muttered, hands raking over her. "Whether you like it or not, I am letting you take this Rhaella." He whispered before leaning down to pull a her pointed nipple into his mouth. "You have no control."

Rhaella laughed, but it came out more of a stifled moan. Yet her hips continued to buck against him. Butt then her hand reached down to the bludge that had strained against his breeches, and she palmed his cock through the leather.

"Seems neither of us do." Rhaella smirked, watching his mouth fall open slowly as he fell to her mercy. She slowed her own movements against him, as her hand worked, letting him catch up.

But he was alway weaker to her touch, and soon enough the sounds he made encouraged Rhaella to resume a faster pace. Aemond knew she was as close as she was, if he knew anything in his world, it was her. He had studied her for majority of his life, he movements, breathing patterns, what each one of voice meant. And now by the way her brows furrowed slightly, drawing toward each other, and the way her mouth opened slightly letting go a whisper of pleasure. He knew she was on he brink of the same mountain he was about to fall down.

Looking into her purple iris was was like throwing a stone through a glass window. The shards of broken glass caused a ripple effects through, and it shattered him, waves of pleasure traveled through his bones, making him groan and grip harder onto her hips, so that he might not slip into a state of falsehood. Aemond moved her faster against him, and like a flame from a candle she was lit in an instant. She shook on top of him, moaned his name whilst she pulled on his hair.

And when they were done they continued to stare at one another, their breathing heaving and their eyes hazy. Aemond pulled her from the bed, lifted her arms and removed her night shift. There had been a bath set for them, they had been waiting for it too cool down slightly before they used it. Aemond removed his trousers, and sunk into the hot water. He held onto Rhaella's hand and pulled her in with him, turning her back toward him so that she could lay back on his chest.

"We will take it back." He said after a few moments of silence. "And then we can bring them home."

Rhaella drew patterns in the surface of the water, her other hand running across Aemond's arm on the edge of the tub. "Do you remember, when you used to bring me a rose every day of each of my pregnancies?" She said, voice barely a whisper.

"I do." Aemond replied, combing his fingers softly through her hair.

"I kept a petal from each one of them." She told him. "I don't know why, I just did." She said, smiling to herself. "It seems so silly now, I couldn't imagine doing something like that now, far too much to worry on."

"When this is all over, I will bring to you a thousand roses, a thousand every day if you wish." Aemond replied, drawing droplets across her back.

Rhaella smiled at his words. "And where would you find a thousand roses every day?"

"I would give you a thousand anything every day if it so pleased you." He replied. "A thousand roses, a thousand jewels, a thousand heads, hearts, anything."

She lent back into him, their bodies molding with each other like clay. "I will take you up on that."

"I don't doubt it."

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