Nothing Burns Like The Cold (Game of Thrones fanfiction)

Jon III

The search for Dragonglass leaves Jon full of discovery.

Chapter Five - Jon III

The grotto was almost pitch-dark, The only light was a faint glow of the passage back up to the larger cavern. He could barely make out the hazy shapes around him, but none of it mattered. Jon's eyes were shut tight against the wave of excruciating pleasure like nothing he'd ever felt. The cool cave stones pressed hard against his flushed bare skin, tempering the heat radiating from his body. He was lost in her, all the way inside her. The warmth of her weight straddling him, strong legs holding him in place. He gripped them, holding her down, pushing himself up as deep as he could, feeling her stretch around him, tight and warm, soft like velvet. Why did the gods make it feel so good? The world fell away, only the heat of her existed.

He looked up at her as her head fell back with a moan, her hips circling, slowing rocking on him. He could see the exposed throat he'd longed to bite, to rub his beard against until it was rosy red and bruised from his kisses. Her loose hair tumbling down her back, grazing his thighs, sending shivers everywhere. He tensed hard, pulling her down to him, burying his face in her neck, her hair, inhaling deep, the sweet smells that made him harder - of campfire and wildflowers - savoring every inch and detail. He'd stay like this forever, never letting her go. Deeper, deeper. She squeezed and willed him to the point of breaking, and he was almost there...

Jon woke from sleep with a gasp, panting hard, flushed with heat. The bed sheets soaked with sweat. Opening his eyes, still heavy with sleep, he scanned the shadowed room, forgetting for a moment where he was, the new morning light peeking through the nearby window. Not home, he lamented. He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, trying to steady his pounding heart coupled with an intense throbbing between his legs. It all felt so real. back in the cave - her scent, the way she rolled her hips back and forth...oh, gods...

The tension was more than he could bear, his hardness pulled tight on his pants, begging for attention. Jon inhaled deep, sliding his hand down his body and underneath his small clothes. He reached in, taking hold of himself, closing his eyes ...the feel of her surrounding him, pulling him as deep as he could go, squeezing and tensing, wet and delicious, she was breathless...

And with that, Jon released the built-up tension, thick waves of pleasure and relief settled over him, bringing him back down. For a long moment, he relished the quiet calm of the morning, the beating of his heart slowing as he steadied his breath and exhaled in admonishment. He found himself shaking his head to no one, his thoughts were so erratic, still swimming from too much wine last night, again. Drinking had become his crutch of late. As he found himself more unbalanced, wine became the only way to stop thinking so hard about everything all at once. Soon I'll be having full conversations out loud to myself. If he was indeed was going mad, I might as well be a little drunk while it happens.

But nothing took away the doubt more than looking up to the sky and catching an unexpected glimpse of Daenerys flying with her dragons. He would feel his chest expand, admiration filling him, wanting to be a part of this, of her, in some way. He admits it: I want her, all of her. Thoughts of her consumed him, he would find himself walking the cliffs, needing to feel the awe that magic was real in the world again.

His thoughts wandered back to that day on the path. Daenerys was bathed in the sunset, the smell of her so inviting, he moved as close as he dared. She was warm and cold, open yet rigid, and just when it seemed they were at an another impasse, she had yielded the high ground and gave him permission to mine the dragonglass. He was taken aback, not knowing how to respond; "Thank you" seemed best. Tyrion had worked his magic. Relief had rushed through him. Jon faced her, wanting to talk more about the army of the dead, but the queen turned away in disinterest. He looked at her still, imploring her to respond, but again, she dismissed him. She needn't do it a third time, he bristled. Their alliance already stood on shaky ground, he wouldn't push his luck. With a last questionable look, Jon walked away from her, determined to find Sam's fabled mountain of dragonglass and heed Sansa's sound advice.