[It's a deal that she dislikes and her ragged nails bury into his shoulder, a small grip to keep from growling. There were times they did this, said things that might make the other's temper flare. It was an exciting game, started in Storm's End. With so much obstinance in her, so much chaos in him, it lead to enough heat that their words became fire. She was no dragon, but she had her own flame in her, the Hightower flame.
She pushed down her nightdress to her waist, pausing to see his shirt followed. It was enough bare skin to satisfy them both for now. It was never an easy night when Daemon was with her. Viserys had her only once in a night and then drifted to sleep. She could expect barely any when Daemon was in her room. He seemed intent on not letting her sleep, taking her once and then again and then again, then waking her from her slumber to have her once more. He was voracious and relentless, which suited her temperament fine. She had her own measure of that, shown each time in this cycle of denial, anger and then acceptance.
It was easier now when he marked her. She knew best how to cover any scrapes or bites. Her bruises could be kept beneath long sleeves and her neck and shoulders hidden beneath high neck gowns. She was old enough that it would not draw comment. Five times a mother, none expected her to be wonton or desirous for attention. This, Daemon likely knew and thrived on.
He's buried as deep as he can be, the thrusts slow and small so this may be drawn out. Still, even at her attempts to keep this languid and soft, he managed to get a little under her skin. Queen and Dragon battling in some measure again.]
It may well be another boy. I will not commit to such a thought yet. [Or really ever. It would be an offense to her younger sons to marry a daughter of uncertain parentage. Never mind that her own were born from such things as well, but Alicent never shied away from her moments of hypocrisy.]
no subject
She pushed down her nightdress to her waist, pausing to see his shirt followed. It was enough bare skin to satisfy them both for now. It was never an easy night when Daemon was with her. Viserys had her only once in a night and then drifted to sleep. She could expect barely any when Daemon was in her room. He seemed intent on not letting her sleep, taking her once and then again and then again, then waking her from her slumber to have her once more. He was voracious and relentless, which suited her temperament fine. She had her own measure of that, shown each time in this cycle of denial, anger and then acceptance.
It was easier now when he marked her. She knew best how to cover any scrapes or bites. Her bruises could be kept beneath long sleeves and her neck and shoulders hidden beneath high neck gowns. She was old enough that it would not draw comment. Five times a mother, none expected her to be wonton or desirous for attention. This, Daemon likely knew and thrived on.
He's buried as deep as he can be, the thrusts slow and small so this may be drawn out. Still, even at her attempts to keep this languid and soft, he managed to get a little under her skin. Queen and Dragon battling in some measure again.]
It may well be another boy. I will not commit to such a thought yet. [Or really ever. It would be an offense to her younger sons to marry a daughter of uncertain parentage. Never mind that her own were born from such things as well, but Alicent never shied away from her moments of hypocrisy.]