Renegade// Criston Cole / Davina Targaryen

11. Never Enough

Davina didnt know how it happened but Criston was wooing her. Candles and roses and Aemond in his crib and fast asleep. 

"You know I already like you, you dont have to... I like it, what am I saying? All men should try this hard to get laid." 

"I'm taking you on a date, right here because taking you on a real date would be inappropriate because I'm kingsguard."  Criston remarked. 

"And yet you were almost willing to break rules for me!" Davina agreed. "Thats hot." she looked around. "This is a fire hazard and I would know I have burned many a men..." Davina offered sweetly. 

"And I'm not going to burn." Criston offered cautiously. 

"Are you fireproof too?"  Davina purred her hand dancing over the flames. 

"I think it would be okay if you burned me... figuratively, of course." 

"Of course." Davina agreed grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him to her. His hand held to her as he kissed along her neck. She moaned into him as she pulled at his clothes. He was to excited too ready for her, too needy. He pulled at her dress blindly unwilling to pull his lips from her and he heard the fabric rip. He pulled back looking to Davina, thinking she would be mad but her smile didnt wavier. 

"Rip it off." Davina instructed and he fisted the straps of her dress and yanked, hearing the tearing of fabric leaving Davina beautifully bare before him. 

"Gods," He whispered as she led him to the bed pushing him back he kissed and grabbed at everything. She gave him a push laying him back on the bed and he watched her climb up on him. His hand slipped between her folds finding her desire waiting for him. "Gods." He whispered again as she took his cock in hand and slid in. 

She rolled her hips, testing the feel of him sliding against her cunt and filling her with jolts of pleasure. His entire body trembles beneath her.

"Faster." he instructed. With her palms on his chest, she rotated along his shaft, lifting and rocking. The dragging, tickling strokes are unreal. The little shocks of electricity, the panting sounds of their breaths, everything centers around where they were joined. He raised his head, watching her intensely.

"Ride it."

She did, willingly and with all abandon. She missed sex, and Criston was not disappointing her. 

"Fucking grind it." She realized she liked him being bossy. His hand slipped from the headboard, but just as quickly, he adjusts his grip. "Harder, Davina. Deeper."

"Speaking my language." she agreed and she let loose, lifting her arms behind her head, closing her eyes, and circling her hips. When she bounced, her breasts sway and the bed frame creaks. When she bore down and rocked, her clit caught fire. She could come like this. A bona-fide orgasm.

"Ah, fuck." The headboard groans in his grip. "Dav..." she opened her eyes and collided with his, a smile pulling at her cheeks.

"-Dav," he groaned out.  His biceps flex above his head, his thighs hardening beneath her. "Give me your mouth." she slid up his chest and thrust her hips, delighting in the feeling of the new angle. When she reached his lips, his tongue seeks out hers, twirling and tasting. He snapped his teeth at her, his muscles bunching and twitching.

"Your cunt is dripping all over me." His filthy mouth strengthened the brewing tide inside her. She swept her hands over his biceps and cup his face, the scratch of his stubble scraping her palms. He deepened the kiss, the strong stretch of his jaw as erotic as the sinful way he glided his tongue.

She ached for his growly orders commanding her every move. But he seems incapable of talking all of a sudden. With his body so rigid and hard, she suspected it's taking a heavy dose of concentration to not move his hips or let go of the control. No more torturing they had tormented each other enough over the past years. With her hands on his face, she kissed him fiercely, passionately, while working her cunt up and down his length, searching for the spot. 

When she found it, all of her nerves, cells, and thoughts rush to her womb, gathering, pressurizing, and exploding through her body in a pounding series of percussions. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream, her gaze locked on his eyes. His lips part with hers, his pupils dilated, and his hands flew to the back of her head. Then he was kissing her mercilessly, hammering his hips, and spiraling her through another orgasm. He rolled them, hands on her face, his mouth and breaths consuming hers. Their tongues battled, licking and lashing as his weight crushed her chest and his cock filled her up. Over and over, he slammed his hips with wicked hard thrusts. She reached down, put her hands on the hard muscle of his ass.

My Gods, it's a perfect ass. He's perfect everywhere. The taste of his tongue. The dark bass of his voice. The sight of him in nothing at all. She would never get enough.