"You man are a whore, you shall never touch my body."
"We shall see."
House Velaryon survived the genocide of Targaryen blood lines during Roberts Rebellion. The Velaryon name had long lost its luster with little to no wealth left to it. Monford Vel...
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Oberyn's hands had found their way to her neck. His thumbs softly rubbed the column as his lips ravished hers. His smell enveloped her, his very essence consuming her wholly. She felt as if she were sailing amongst the stars.
With a nip of her bottom lip, he forced his tongue inside. The muscle greedily searched in the innards of her mouth, desperate to know the intimacy of her flesh. Vaelerys whined as she felt him press his arousal into her clothed core.
His hands slithered down the sides of her body, dipping at her waist and rounding at her hips. His touched was antagonizing slow.
Vaelerys' fingers ravished his exposed skin and hair. His chest was smooth, gooseflesh rose as her nails grazed the indentation of his bronzed pectoral muscles. His eyes rolled as her hands ventured towards his neck into the brown of his chopped hair.
To know his touched made the seed of sin in her bloom with life.
But as quickly as their consummation had begun, it had ended.
Samira entered the room, failing to knock upon the chambers door. Vaelerys used what small force she could muster and pushed Oberyn from his lustful assault. He opposed her, pushing himself back down upon her with a whine.
With a forceful kick to his shin he retreated, throwing himself lazily upon the other side of his wife's bed. A frustrated growl erupted from the feather pillows he nestled his face between.
"My Lady... I have come to give you your medication."
Vaelerys bit her swollen lip as she adjusted the ruffled blankets. Oberyn remained still for a moment, before quickly rising to his feet. Vaelerys noticed the large bulge present in his britches... as did Samira.
The handmaiden glared as the sultry prince unabashedly let his hand fall to the angered area. His distain for the handmaiden had grown to the height at which the dragons once soared.
As quickly as the hatred appeared upon his handsome face of tanned summer, it had washed away in the tide of his charm and sex.
Oberyn turned to his wife abed. Her lips once pink had turned rose. Her locks of elegant Valyrian silver sprawled upon her pillow like a halo of moonlight. He wished to burn the sight into the darkest parts of his mind.
A wicked grin taunted her.
"I do not mind the wandering eyes of on lookers. When I fuck, all are welcome to observe my preferred sport." Oberyn swiftly escaped the chamber. A smell of citrus and cinnamon haunting the room.
Samira quietly rounded the bedside, pouring the tonic into a small chalice. She dared not mutter a word as Vaelerys eyes narrowed at the closed door.
She had not enjoyed the slyness of his comment. She knew very well of Oberyn's nature, his overwhelming desire for all which walked upon two legs. But it still burned a hole in her stomach that he had invited Samira to observe their marriage bed. If that's what it was?
