OF BASTARDS & DRAGONS || Aenar Targaryen [1]

41 • WHORE OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS

Trouble.

Francesca's heart sinks whenever she looks at Maekar. The boy was different from his sister. Elissa had pure targaryen features, silver white hair with deep purple eyes, but Maekar did not bear any targaryen features, not even the slightest.

The wonderful thing is that everyone whispers in the realms is that Maekar took after the features of House Tully.

Yet her heart felt troubled, she pondered which of the men she's being entangled with could be her son's father, either it's Harwin Strong, Lyonel Strong or the other men.

Moreover, King Viserys and Daemon had arrived from the Free Cities, on DragonStone, and Aenar and gone to join them there, so presently Ser Harwin's low moans fill the room as he kiss down the side of her neck, his grip on her hips tightening, digging deep into her soft skin.

Francesca had no other choice, but tell him him the truth of Maekar's parentage. The blood of House Strong flows through the young infant's veins, for his hair was dark brown in ringlets, his eyes were teal blue like hers, his skin like that of man who sired him, yet she couldn't identify who's father he was, so pinning it on Harwin wouldn't be a bad idea, nor was it a big deal. After all they've slept with each other countless times, so if manipulating him into believing he's Maekar's father, that would definitely sate him in a trap to believe her decit. She'd venture.

At first, when she told him the news, thinking Harwin will fret or be disappointed, he just smiled and turned her around, raised her skirts and fucked her mercilessly and rough that day without foreplay as punishment for not taking the usual moon tea she use to drink whenever they had intercourse.

Nonetheless, her secret was safe, King Viserys had already affirmed Maekar as next inline to inherit the iron throne after Aenar, but Alicent outrightly disagrees by heart.

From the way she stares at Maekar, Francesa could denote Alicent knows her secret, but the Queen won't spill a word, for she also has her own secrets. Yet fear grips the Tully, if she's to secure her son's claim, Alicent must die, and death shall be her portion sooner than later.

For now, her mind whisked back to Harwin's touch, she pull on his thick curls while grinding against him, silently hoping the wooden chair he was sitting on doesn’t give way.

She untie his breeches, then dip her hand underneath the fabric to feel his cock hardening in her hand.

“Gods,” he pants. “You’ll be the death of me.”

She press her face further into his neck, breathing in his scent. “Has it been so long, my love? I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already calling to the gods.”

Harwin chuckles but quickly starts to moan when she start stroking him. It had been a long time since she'd found time intimate for many moons since the birth of their son. His son. Aenar's bastard.

As each passing day seemed to be more chaotic than the last; thankfully, the dust of chaos had begun to settle. His hands move from her waist to the top of the dress to start unlacing it.

When her breasts spill out of the bodice, Harwin hisses as Francesa tease the weeping tip of his cock with your thumb. Her breasts were still too sensitive to touch, but he could still look

“Gods.....” he grunts.

Just as Francesa start to speed up her actions by sucking him, there’s a knock at the door.

Both of them groan in annoyance. Quickly, the Lady Tully climb off Harwin’s lap and fix her clothing as he puts his cock back into his pants and dresses up as her sworn protector.