The Prince That Was Promised (Old Version)

Chapter 15: Bonds

Orys Targaryen

Orys's chambers in Ironrath

Orys awoke. The morning light was just beginning to filter in through the curtains, golden and soft, casting long streaks across the bed. He rubbed his eyes and turned, finding Shireen lying beside him, naked as her nameday. Her dark hair was spread over the pillow like spilled ink, one hand curled near her cheek. For a moment, he simply looked at her, feeling that same strange warmth fill his chest. It was more than desire. It was something protective, deep, and rooted, the same he felt for his siblings.

Carefully, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, then another, higher up, trailing a path along her collarbone and toward her neck. She stirred, murmuring something soft and sleepy. Then her eyes blinked open—those sea-blue eyes—and she smiled.

"Orys," she whispered, her voice thick with sleep.

"Morning, dear," he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You look radiant as ever."

Begin Smut

He kissed her gently on the lips, lingering, and when he pulled away, her smile deepened. His hand slid along the curve of her waist, tracing her softly. Her skin was warm beneath his palm, and she sighed as he touched her, her body responding before words ever could.

"You're staring again," she murmured teasingly, her voice low.

"Can't help it," he whispered, his voice husky now. "You're mine."

His mouth found hers again, slower this time, more deliberate. She tasted like sleep and warmth, and she kissed him back without hesitation, her hands rising to tangle in his hair. Her body shifted beneath him, soft and eager. He rolled her gently onto her back, the kiss deepening as their bodies aligned. Her legs parted instinctively, wrapping around his hips as he let his mouth wander down her neck, across the swell of her breast, lingering where he knew she loved it most.

She moaned, a soft sound that hit him low in the gut. His hand caressed her hip, then her thigh, before slipping between her legs. He found her soaked and ready, a sharp thrill running through him as his fingers slid inside her. Her breath hitched, hips rolling up to meet him.

"Orys," she gasped, trembling beneath his touch.

He pushed the furs aside, exposing her to the cool air of the room. Her skin shivered, gooseflesh rising as he leaned down and took one of her nipples into his mouth, suckling gently. His fingers kept their rhythm, steady and sure, and her moans spilled out freely now.

Her hand found his cock, wrapping around him, stroking him slowly, teasingly. He groaned into her breast, voice rough. "Shireen..."

Her hips rose with growing urgency, meeting the thrust of his fingers as her other hand clutched at his shoulder. He could feel her body tightening, ready to find her release.

"Don't stop," she whispered, breathless. "Please, Jon..."

He didn't. He kept his mouth on her breast, his fingers working her with practiced care. Then she cried out, sharp and raw, her thighs trembling as she clenched around him. Her body shook, curling into his as he held her through it, her gasps soft against his neck.

He kissed her cheek, then her lips, slow and tender. She smiled, flushed and glowing. "That's something to wake up, and you always know what I need."

He looked down at her, eyes heavy with want. "I'm not done with you yet, my stag, my dragoness." He growled as he kissed her deeply.

"Then, take me. Fill me with your seed." She commanded as they broke apart. Taking command, she guided him between her legs.

Orys, felt his cock tip against, her entrance. Then he sank into her with a groan, burying himself in her wet heat. Gods, she was tight, every time she felt like coming home. Like the world stilled around them, everything else pushed aside. It wasn't so different from what it was, Yiggrte. He moved slowly at first, savoring the feel of her wrapped around him. Her hands skimmed down his back, nails dragging lightly, and he kissed her deeply. As he took with increased vigor, causing her to moan his name again.