green queen, black ace | daemon, rhaenyra and vaegon

xxii. a treason so sweet

WARNING: pure smut

PRINCE VAEGON TARGARYEN kissed her like he wanted to consume her, pulling her body closer until it was melded to his, bending her back so that she was covered entirely in him - his kisses, his body, his touches.

When that was not enough, he pulled Ceryse off of her feet. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and pushed herself up higher. Then, the Queen used her new height advantage to positively devour the Prince before her - after all, he was not the only one with desires, he was not the only one who was starved for this.

She smiled against his lips as they battled for dominance, the Prince more playful than domineering as he determinedly explored her mouth.

But it wasn't enough. Never enough.

He walked forwards, aiming for the four-poster bed. Unable to see beneath him, Ceryse could not help but snort when he tripped on what was doubtlessly one of the girls' toys, and he removed his lips from her own to offer the Queen a mock glare.

"It seems I am not servicing my Queen well enough," he mumbled, lowering his mouth to suck at the delicate skin on her bare shoulders, "if she is still laughing."

Before she could retort, Ceryse found herself dropped onto the silk covers of her bed. The unfairly tall Targaryen Prince detached his armour before he followed her onto the sheets on his hands and knees, crawling his way up her body and trailing kisses all the way.

It felt so foreign, so beautiful. Was this what intimacy was supposed to feel like?

Lost in her thoughts, Ceryse had not realised Vaegon was staring down at her, adoration and want painted in his Valyrian eyes for the world to see. No, not the world. Only her.

"I want to try something that you probably haven't experienced before," the Prince said, one side of his lips curling up into a smirk. "Do you trust me?"

Did she? "Yes."

The Prince retreated back down her body, his eyes never leaving her own. Curious, Ceryse propped herself up on her elbows so she could see what he was doing.

Smirk still in place, the satisfied Prince began to bunch up her nightgown, pulling it up to her waist and exposing pale underclothes to the room.

He wasted no time at all in pulling them down.

Ceryse's brows furrowed. "What are you going-,"

Her words were cut off when the Prince lowered his plush lips to her own lower ones. He used his long fingers to spread her folds and then - he feasted.

The Queen cried out as her head fell back against the silk duvet, fingers clenching in the sheets when his tongue began to circle right there. When he flattened his tongue, adding pressure, her mouth omitted something of a broken sob, hands moving to clench in his fine, silver curls to keep him there.

But the Prince resisted, trailing his tongue lower and lower, before it began to breach where Ceryse knew a man would usually put his cock.

It felt strange at first, his small, slick tongue thrusting into her, but when he increased the pace Ceryse found herself squirming with want, and feeling hotter and hotter.

She was almost disappointed when he returned to her clit, before she felt a longer, colder appendage pushing into her hole.

His finger entered her slowly but surely, aided by how wet she was from his tongue's games. It was more of a stretch when he added a second, but Ceryse did not complain. No, instead she was fighting the urge to rut against his face, forcing his fingers in harder, for his tongue to add more pressure.