OF BASTARDS & DRAGONS || Aenar Targaryen [Book One]

PROLOGUE

The Queen was looking forward to grace his presence at the gathering outside the Godswood. She just wanted all their guests to leave so she could jump on him.

Aenar was back with Daemon from the Stepstones, the battle was won. Though It wasn't the summer sun making her smoulder in her favourite dress or the shimmering heat from the trees. It was the culmination of so many little things, each a droplet, that eventually formed a wave of lust that washed over her.

The easy way he laughed and conversed with Viserys and Daemon, and other noble lords, his voice a rich, dark bass note made her heart thud.

The light in his eyes as he spoke with his brothers or told his favourite jokes. She'd heard them hundreds of times and could recite them all, but she never tired of that light or the wattage in his smile that came from the same overcharged battery of charisma.

The casual strength in each handshake, the easy grace in each hug, the deft skill of his hands as he held his chalice and sipped his wine with so much steeze.

And of course, there was his body, which she knew so well and which she had been aching for since the feast started. His tight ass in those black pants, his strong broad chest and arms in his white shirt. As if to get her into self consciousness.

Aenar's silver white hair fell on his shoulders perfectly, only two buttons in his shirt were open, he knew that would make her hot, the devil. And by the time she saw him cross his hands over his shoulders, revealing his biceps, she was already feeling jelly but kept a royal upfront.

It was a good disguise, she had to admit, as the feast wore on: she looked proper and modest on the outside, while inside was a completely different story lustful thoughts in her head, a damp, aching need in her core.

Truth be told, she felt naughty, dirty even. She had wondered if Aenar might feel the same way, despite her conservative sartorial choice, and when he looked at her direction with, his gaze burned her, he knew he did.

He smiled, and as always, it was electric. So were his lilac eyes, of course, but the spark she saw was reserved just for her, she knew.

The live wire of his lust crackled in his pupils as he stylishly gazed at her across the Godswood for those few seconds, there was a sensational feeling she felt, a flush through her, and was grateful for the faint breeze coming off the lake. Without it, she would have worried she'd combust. She might, anyway.

"Seven Hells, I want him," she thought.

The heat was total, complete: centred in her core and radiating out all the way to her scalp, her toes, her fingertips.

It was different now, Alicent reflected as she watched Aenar's arm muscles ripple through the shimmering sun. And of course, that tantalizing view of his bare chest. With success had come more and more networking and events like this feast Viserys held in his honor and Daemon's.

The mental montage of their sexcapades as secret lovers wasn't helping Alicent cool off at all, and she decided to sneak off to the palace and relieve herself.

It would only be a temporary measure nothing but Aenar's solid cock would really satisfy but it would be something.

She excused herself from the guests and all but ran upstairs. Every step she took just reminded her how wet she was, how she had already dampened her undergarments. Her erect nipples rubbed against the matching red linen, as she practically leaped up the stairs.