Led By Fiery Passion (currently being revised)

Part 64

Aemond's gaze lingered on the window where the fading sun melted into fire and shadow, casting a molten glow across the chamber, light rain had begun hitting the glass. He exhaled, low and sharp, his chest rising with the weight his conflicted feelings.

"I know you're furious with me," Aenyra breathed, her voice a trembling with disappointment within herself. "If punishing me will burn it out of you... then do it."

His head snapped toward her, his eye darkening  with something dangerous, feral. "Do you want me to punish you?" His voice was gravel—low, dark, nearly a growl.

Her breath hitched, but she lifted her chin in defiance. "I want you to do whatever you desire, Aemond. I'm yours. Completely yours."

The robe slid from her shoulders, pooling soundlessly at her feet. The flicker in his eye hardened into fire as he stalked forward, each step measured, predatory.

"You think you can endure me?" he rasped, his words grazing her like the edge of a blade. "You think you can handle  it if I stop holding back?"

"I can fucking handle it." she snapped, though her pulse hammered wildly, betraying her anticipation.

That defiance was his breaking point. With a sudden snarl, his hand closed brutally around her jaw, moving them backwards until her spine collided with the vanity. The wood creaked, bottles shattered, glass skittered to the floor—but she barely registered the chaos. Her breath caught, her skin shivered as his body pressed against her, caging her in.

Her lips parted on a shaky gasp, but deep inside, heat coiled low in her belly. She liked this—liked the fire in his eye, the violence in his grip, the way he was finally unraveling for her.

"You want punishment?" he hissed, lips hovering so close she could taste his breath, rough and scorching. "Then you'll get it. I'll tear every trace of him from you until you can't remember anyone but me. When I'm finished, you'll beg for nothing else."

The words should have terrified her. Instead, they sent a molten shiver through her veins, her thighs pressing together helplessly as she looked up at him with hunger barely concealed.

With one vicious tug, he ripped her nightshift down the center, the fabric tearing apart like paper, baring her to his searing gaze. Aenyra gasped, heat flooding her face, her chest rising in ragged anticipation.

She reached for him, hand desperate to touch, to claim. But Aemond seized her wrists in a bruising grip, slamming them hard against the cold glass mirror. The sound rattled the chamber, her cry muffled by the surge of desire that seized her.

Pinned, exposed, trembling beneath his merciless grip, Aenyra startled at herself—at the shocking thrill that coursed through her at his brutality. It wasn't right. It wasn't safe. And yet, every fiber of her ached with a dark, insatiable hunger—for the storm that raged within him, for the chaos he both embodied and commanded, pulling her deeper into a craving she didn't dare name.

And she wanted more.

"Aahh—"

His mouth latched onto her nipple, sucking it hard, tugging with his teeth just enough until a sharp cry spilled from her lips. Her head slammed back against the glass, eyes squeezed shut, body arching into his punishing mouth.

"Aemond..." she breathed, trembling, just as his  hand left her wrist and  slid between her thighs. Without warning, two long fingers shoved inside her, filling her so abruptly that a gasping moan echoed through the chamber.

He pumped them mercilessly, knuckles grinding deep, his thumb grazing her clit just enough to make her squirm. His pace was brutal, relentless, not giving her a chance to breathe, let alone think.