Led By Fiery Passion (currently being revised)

Part 88

The second Aenyra shoved herself off him, they were already clashing again, blades flashing, feet digging into the sand. Their movements were sharp, fluid, almost too fast to follow, yet there was a strange rhythm to it—as if they were meant to move like this, bound to one another in every strike and counter. Each clash sent a jolt through them, every parry sparking that glimmer of heat in their eyes.

It felt like more than sparring. There was an electric pull in every lunge and dodge, something that made the fight feel less like a test of skill and more like a dangerous game they couldn't stop playing. The air between them vibrated with exhilaration, with the bite of laughter threatening at the edges even as sweat traced down their skin.

Aemond caught her wrist and shoved her back, his grip firm, his eye gleaming with triumph. But Aenyra slipped free in a swift twist, flashing him a grin that dared him to try again, to push harder. They circled one another like predators, heartbeats quickening, the raw rush of the fight bleeding into something hotter, headier.

With a sudden sweep, he broke through her defenses, knocking her down into the sand. His body pinned hers, strong and unyielding, his weight holding her beneath him. Victory curved his mouth into a smirk, but in his gaze lingered something sharper, hungrier, a fire that had nothing to do with winning. His breath skimmed over her cheek, warm and maddening, and for a single charged heartbeat, neither of them moved.

He felt her pulse quicken beneath his touch, and a soft laugh escaped silently through his nose.
"Why are you holding back?" Aemond murmured, his voice rough with desire as he trailed his lips along her neck beside her ear, pressing soft kisses as he spoke.

Aenyra laughed, her eyes glinting with the same playful mischief as Aemond's. "If I don't, I'm afraid I'll embarrass you." she teased, her fingers curling around the back of his neck as she pulled him closer.

She leaned in, dragging her tongue along his earlobe before nipping it lightly. A low, exaggerated moan spilled from her lips, just enough to make him hiss—only for her to drive a swift punch into his side the next moment.

The sound of her laughter, light and carefree, mixed with the low groan that escaped him as the punch landed. It was a mix of pleasure and pain that left Aemond breathless. He gritted his teeth, momentarily stunned and losing his grip on the situation. Aenyra's swift movements and playful nature made it hard to maintain any control, but that only made her more irresistible and him more determined.

"Aenyra." he growled, but there was no anger in his voice—only the heat of the moment.

As if to answer his challenge, she swiftly slipped free of his hold, quickly moving to her feet and reaching for her sword spear. Aemond followed suit, his gaze still blazing with the intensity of their playful battle as he released a deep laugh.

The storm clouds above them grew darker, the rumble of thunder echoing across the sky. Neither of them paid any attention to it though, completely lost in their own world.

Helaena and Jacaerys, who had already sensed the rising tension from where they stood in the distance, exchanged a knowing look. With a quiet nod, they began to head inside, Aemon cradled against Helaena unaware of his parents playful fight. They left the two of them to their own private game, giving them the space to play out their unspoken desires.

Ser Erryk, who had remained at a distance, watched the exchange with a quiet intensity. He couldn't help but notice how Aenyra's eyes sparkled with life when Aemond was near her, how the playful banter between them had a depth that he or anyone else couldn't ignore. He knew that the bond between them was something that went far beyond physical attraction—it was something dangerous, something that could never be broken.  Something completely different like the Targaryen's themselves.