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Rhaenyra walks back to her rooms after Harwin escorts her to the Red Keep, her body still a tight coil of anger. Daemon left her alone. Alone, in a brothel in the middle of the city, where anything might’ve happened to her. Alone, with her pants halfway down and her lips swollen from his kiss. Alone, with her smallclothes soaked and fire pooling deep in her belly.
Rhaenyra should climb onto her dragon, find her uncle and have him ripped to shreds by Syrax’s teeth.
She reaches her chambers in such a daze she barely notices Ser Criston standing stiffly by the door.
“My Princess,” he says, a note of worry in his voice, “are you alright?”
Rhaenyra looks at him, then. Really looks at him. He is rather handsome. There’s no denying that. His broad shoulders, clean-cut face, muscular arms. Rhaenyra doesn’t want the first man to ever touch her to be some stranger, some Lord who only cares for her title, and the power they might take from her. She wants more than that. She wants it to be a man she chooses, a man she wants. Somebody that wants her .
She wants somebody who’d kiss her as her uncle did, who would make her feel as if fire is running in her veins. She wants somebody who would make her come undone under him, who might make her forget her duties. The realm, the crown, the damned Iron Throne that her mother died trying to put a son on.
“My Princess?” Cole repeats.
Rhaenyra almost pulls him into her rooms, but he would be a sad replacement for what she truly wants. She might be a maiden, but she has no need for a gallant knight. Criston would surely accept, if she asked. He’d touch her tenderly, gently cover her in feather soft kisses as he buries himself in her. But Rhaenyra is a dragon, and she has little need for tenderness. She wants for fire and blood.
*
Rhaenyra easily makes her way to her uncle’s chambers and waits. She doesn’t change out of the boy’s clothes he gifted her, rather liking the smell of grime, alcohol and Daemon that clings to her.
It’s two candle marks before he walks in, smelling of sweat and cheap wine. Rhaenyra idly wonders if he buried himself in some whore’s cunt, thinking of her. The thought doesn’t bother her as much as it probably would. What is a whore to her, the blood of the dragon? Her uncle might fuck a hundred whores, but he is meant to burn with her.
“Rhaenyra,” he says, noticing her for the first time, “what are you doing here?”
Rhaenyra stands up from the bed, walks to him until she’s close enough to smell the wine on his breath and looks up at him. “You know what I’m doing here, uncle.”
He chuckles. “You should be abed, little girl,” he says, “this is no place for you.”
She grabs his shirt, pulling him towards her. “I am no little girl, uncle,” she says, “and I would have you finish what you started.”
She can see Daemon’s pupils dilate in the dim light of the candles. “Little dragon, you do not know what you’re talking about.”
Rhaenyra smiles, puts one hand on his hard chest and pushes him backwards, until the back of his knees touch the bed. “Then teach me, uncle.”
She pushes him backwards one more time, and he sits down, looking at her with hungry, dark eyes and offering no resistance as she straddles him.
He smirks up at her. “You think you can come here and command me, niece?” He says, “I am not one of your knights or a green squire that would fall to your feet with one flick of your silver hair.”
Rhaenyra grinds her hips against him. “No, uncle,” he says, “I think you are a dragon and dragons take what belongs to them.”
His eyes harden, and his hands find their way to her hips. “And what belongs to me, Rhaenyra?”
Rhaenyra threads her fingers in his hair. She leans in, her lips against his ear. “I do.”
He lets out a ragged breath, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her hips to the point of pain.
She grinds against him anew, feeling the bulge in his pants grow against her. Gods, it feels so hard. She’s dripping .
“Will you have me give my maidenhead to some other man, uncle?” She asks. “To a man who cares not for it, that only lusts after my crown?”
Daemon’s hands on her hips push her down onto his crotch. “What If I lust after your crown, niece?” he asks, “Isn’t that what they all think?”
Rhaenyra pulls back to look at his face, traces his bottom lip with her thumb. “Is that it, then, uncle?” she asks, “You wish for me to call you King?”
Rhaenyra moves her hand from his mouth to the space between them, to cup his hardness over his pants. Fuck, it feels so big. “You wish for me to bend my knee and submit to your will?”
He groans, thrusting against her palm. “Then do as Aegon did,” she whispers, “and conquer me.”
She squeezes the hard bulge in her hand. “Bring fire and blood onto my body, and make me yours.”
That does it. Daemon grabs a fist full of her hair and clashes their mouths together. The kiss is anything but tender, and Rhaenyra feels heat pool in her smallclothes at the roughness. His lips on her, the sharp stab of pain as he tightens the grip on her hair and the firmness of the grip on her hip, keeping her in place. It’s all roughness and sharp edges and danger. It’s Daemon.
Before she knows it, Daemon moves both his hands to her ass and stands up, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. He turns them around and unceremoniously drops her onto the mattress.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he commands.
Rhaenyra’s cunt clenches pitifully around nothing. Finally, there is the dragon who is meant to claim her. She obeys.
He settles behind her, and she turns back to look at him. He doesn’t say a word as he pushes his breeches down low enough for his cock to spring free.
Rhaenyra can’t help it. Her eyes widen. It’s big . It’s long, veiny and rock-hard. It looks thick even in Daemon’s broad, warrior hands. He’s going to wreck her.
He notices his expression and smirks, licking his lips. Without warning or preamble, he yanks her pants down, along with her smallclothes. “No clever quips, little dragon?” he asks.
She’s about to retort out of spite when he runs a finger through her soaked folds and a desperate whine escapes her lips instead. Gods, she doesn’t care if he wrecks her. She needs him inside.
He puts his hands on her ass, squeezing her cheeks roughly. “I will not be gentle with you, Rhaenyra,” he says. “You are a wild thing, and wild things must be tamed.”
He says it as if it is a threat, but she hears it for what it is: a question. She knows her answer.
She pushes her ass backwards into him wantonly, spreading her legs as much as the pants still only halfway down her legs will allow. “Do it then,” she says, “fill me with your cock and break me in as you would a wild mare.
He puts a hand on the back of her head, pushing her against the pillows, hard. She has to turn her face to the side so she might breathe.
“This will hurt,” he says, and she feels the head of his cock against her entrance. God, it feels so thick and hot. “You asked for fire and blood and so I shall give that to you, niece. Bite the pillow if you must, for I mean to take my pleasure from your cunt until I am spent.”
Rhaenyra feels the head start to push, stretching her virgin entrance painfully and has to bite her lip hard enough to nearly draw blood to keep from moaning.
She pushes her weight on her forearms, looking back at her uncle defiantly. “I am no pillow biter, Daemon,” she says, “do as you will and if the entire castle is to hear my screams, then so be it.”
He chuckles. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he says and with one sharp thrust, pushes half of his cock inside her cunt in one stroke.
She screams.
Gods. It hurts . He tore through her maidenhead in one movement. It feels so big inside of her, her cunt struggling to accept the hard, thick cock penetrating it.
“Do you like that, little dragon?” he asks, pushing another inch into her, roughly, stealing the breath from her lungs once more.
She closes her eyes tightly, moaning in pain and trying to adjust to the feeling of his member mercilessly stretching her virgin hole.
He spreads her cheeks and slaps her ass, hard. “Answer me, niece,” he says, “you wanted me to claim you,” he pushes another inch in, “to fill you. Do you enjoy the feeling of my cock claiming your maidenhead? Making you mine?”
Rhaenyra moans, but cannot bring her mouth to form words. He grabs her hair again, pulling harshly and with one last, rough thrust, he’s completely buried inside her. She lets out a wretched whimper. She can feel the head of his cock against her womb, his pelvis against her ass. It feels as if he might just split her in two.
He pulls back until only half his cock is in her cunt and thrusts back inside, hard. “Answer me, little dragon,”
“Fuck,” she gasps, “Yes, uncle. Gods, please .”
What she’s asking for, she doesn’t know. Slow down? Keep going? She can’t think through the haze of need, the fullness, the pleasure and the pain of her cunt straining to accommodate his cock.
“Good,” he says, tightening the grip on her hair, “because now I’m gonna fuck you, niece. I’m going to fuck you as I would any whore.”
He releases her hair, both his hands settling on a firm grip on her waist. “I’m going to stretch your tight little cunt until it fits my cock. I’m going to use it as I please, and I’m going to make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
She whimpers. She has no defiance left, no clever retort. Only need. “Please, uncle. Please .”
Daemon starts moving. He doesn’t ease her into it, does not take his time to let her adjust. He sets a harsh, punishing rhythm. His hands on her hips, keeping her in place as he fucks her fast and hard, pulling out until only the tip of his cock is inside her and plunging back in, over and over again, making her scream every time the tip of his cock hits her womb. He keeps his promise, fucks her like a whore from the street of silk, making her whine and moan like one as he rams into her as if he wants her to come undone around his cock.
“Such a tight little cunt,” he says. “you feel so good around me, Rhaenyra.”
Rhaenyra cannot get enough. He is fucking her selfishly, not caring if it hurts, not caring if his cock is tearing her apart, using her body for his pleasure, and she only wants more. She only wants it hard, to be consumed, to be burned. He wants for him to use her, claim her and own her.
With every thrust, she can feel her belly tightening, the pain overshadowed by the pleasure slowly building, her cunt tightening. She’s close to her release, and she wants him to feel her come around his cock.
“Uncle,” she moans, “I’m close.”
She moves one of her hands down to furiously rub the tight bundle of nerves in her cunt. It’s so sensitive and swollen the first touch is enough to make her entire body tense, her cunt tightening around Daemon’s cock.
He grabs her wrist and removes her hand from her cunt. “You will come from my hands and my cock or not at all, Princess,” he says, “and not until I command you to do so.”
Rhaenyra groans, arching her back. She’s so fucking close. Just a little more, just a little touch. “Daemon, please .”
Daemon presses his body against her back. “I don’t care if my whores peak,” he says. “You’ll take what I give you, and you’ll beg for more.”
He grabs a fistful of her hair again, pulling her face back until his mouth is at her ear. ”I’m going to spill my seed inside of you, Rhaenyra,” he says, his breath hot on her skin. “You’re mine. Your maiden’s blood is on my sheets, your cunt is stretched around my cock, and now I’m going to fill your womb with my seed and claim it for myself.”
Rhaenyra moans, grinds her ass against her uncle’s pelvis. She wants it. She wants his seed deep inside her. She despises the idea with anybody else, but not from Daemon. Rhaenyra wants him to come deep inside her and make her belly swell with his heir.
“Do it,” she says, breathless. “Fill me, uncle. Breed me, make me carry your child.”
He grunts, pushes his weight against her, pushing her against the mattress as he increases his pace, fucking her like a wild animal. She screams, whimpers, struggles to breathe.
When she thinks she can’t take it anymore, he finally takes mercy on her, releases her hair and moves his hand to rub her clit.
“Come for me, Rhaenyra,” he commands. “I want your cunt to clench around me and milk my cock like the good little whore you are.”
He thrusts hard and deep once, then twice, and then her climax hits her like a tidal wave, her whole body convulsing with the force of it, her cunt following her uncle’s command and clenching desperately around his cock.
“Fuck,” he grunts, “good girl.”
He moves both his hands back to her waist and rams into her with all his strength, making her see stars and her body tremble with aftershocks. She fears he might actually ruin her, but after a few harsh thrusts she feels him tense behind her and he comes, filling her cunt with warm, thick spurts of seed.
*
She feels Daemon’s eyes on her as she stands up, legs trembling, and pulls up her breeches.
He leans back on the headboard of his bed. “What do you imagine will happen now, little dragon?”
She gives her uncle a haughty look, runs her fingers through her hair, pulling it into a loose half ponytail. “Now, I will go,” she says, “You may go back to your whores. I will drink moon tea and marry Laenor Velaryon or some Lannister whelp. You will watch me call another husband and know it should’ve been you.”
She walks towards the door and turns around, her hand on the doorframe. “Or,” she says, “You will meet me in the Dragonpit in two hours, fly with me to Dragonstone and make me your wife.”
*
She hardly even gets time to wonder whether he will show up. She’s been in the Dragonpit for less than ten minutes when she hears his voice behind her.
“Rhaenyra.”
She turns, rewards him with a bright smile. “No pet names, now, Daemon?” she asks, “It’s Rhaenyra? No longer a little dragon?”
He laughs. He walks up to her, into her personal space. “It’s Rhaenyra. It will be wife soon enough,” he says, “One day, I will call you Your Grace and bend the knee to you, and cut through anyone who would defy you.”
Rhaenyra gives him a lopsided smile. “Good,” she says, “That’s good Prince Consort.”
He laughs, grabs her jaw harshly and kisses her. “One could think you insolent, Princess.”
She bites his lower lip, making him hiss. “I’ll see you at Dragonstone, uncle. Let us see how you make your wife behave.”