Upon entering the room once more, Jon noticed Dany had combed the tangles from her hair and dabbed away most of her excess sweat. She was sitting upright on the edge of her bed, legs crossed beneath a thin sheet she held clutched to her chest. She's perfect, he thought.
"Take it all off, again," she commanded, the power dynamic shifting back. Part of him felt relief—first, for having done a good job, and second, to slip back into his more natural, submissive state. A state he felt comfortable in, particularly if it meant taking orders from Daenerys. And so he removed his boots and socks and slipped his tunic over his head once more. He pulled a small flask of water from his pocket, emptying it into the goblet on her desk. Grasping its neck between his fingers, he walked toward Daenerys, who had been gazing at his chest in a hungry manner.
"You should drink something," he suggested.
Grabbing the goblet from him, she took two quick gulps. The sheet fell from her grasp as she reached to place it back on her desk. Jon couldn't help but drop his eyes to her breasts.
"Yes," she agreed, moving that sultry gaze to his eyes while pulling loose the laces on his trousers, "I should."
Jon bit his lip at the mere insinuation. He felt his nerves get the better of him as she nudged the fabric down slowly, anticipation authoring her expression. He didn't know whether to examine her reaction or close his eyes. Might she be disappointed?
He closed his eyes as the cool air hit him again. No, he thought, urging himself to be brave. He pried open his eyes, one at a time, to see Dany's hands still clutched to the fabric on either side of his parted thighs. There he was, standing at attention, eye-level, before her. He fought the urge to fold his arms, leaving them to dangle at his sides.
After another agonizing moment of silence as she examined him, Dany, smirk-laden just as he had been, slipped the fabric down to his knees. The parallels had him worried, for all the teasing he had done to her. She licked her lips as she clutched his waist. Pulling him closer to her, he struggled to find footing in the sudden shift.
She placed wet lips to his abdomen, slowly tasting her way south from his navel, not straying far from the path his hair had laid out for her. Still clutching his waist with her left hand, she gradually drew her fingertips up his thighs, eliciting a series of shivers. Dany likewise nestled into his dark curls, a bit musty now, after having worked up a sweat as he tended to her. She, too, found herself salivating.
A sharp exhale escaped his lips as her she buried her nose in his tuft the same way he did to her. More than ever, he understood the consequences of teasing one's lover. Mere inches from her mouth now, the blood pulsed through his cock in a familiar way, as if his skin couldn't contain it. Her hot breath at its base had his ears ringing and whirring as his blood drained from his head again, rushing south to greet her. Sweet pain surged through him as he ached for her touch.
"Mmm," she crooned, eyelashes fluttering open to meet his twisted expression. Dany smirked further, pleased to see his face shaped by the same torment he had caused her not long ago. That's enough, she thought, reminding herself that though he had been briefly cruel, she should follow in relenting, to put him out of this misery. She moved her hand higher, cupping his testicles as gently as she could manage, still using his own tactics against him
Failing to stifle his soft whimpers, Jon's balance faltered under her touch. Likewise, she tried to steady his waist with her left hand. And with her right, she continued tracing her fingertips back up towards the base of his cock. Jon's breathing became erratic. She took her hand away. His expression clearly stated, without words, that he had had enough of the teasing. Don't worry, my love, she thought to herself.
She waited for his gaze to meet hers again before opening her mouth, unsheathing her tongue beneath the tip. His eyes similarly looked possessed, whites barely visible, in favor of pitch-dark puddles glistening in the candlelight. For a moment, she swore they looked like a deep violet, perhaps indigo...
Before the thought could take root in her mind, she felt Jon jerk as her tongue made impact. She dragged it gently backward, from base of the head to its tip, already wet with anticipation. She swirled her tongue 'round, getting her first true taste of him. She thought it, appropriately, tasted quite similar to his kisses, still wet with her. Jon had clenched his eyes shut, his fists balled tightly at his sides. She closed her lips around him, swishing her tongue gently along the bottom as she made her way further down his length.
Jon looked down, longing to see her full lips wrapped around him. His legs started to shake against his will as she began sucking. Dany could feel him falter. She let him fall from her mouth and swiftly rose, clutching her hands to his body to steady him. Jon's daze was drunken as he leaned in to kiss her feverishly, boldly grasping her breasts, "Dany..."
She returned his kiss for only a moment before guiding him to lie down. "Lift your head on my pillows," she commanded, "so you can see everything."
Jon furrowed his brow, shaking his head in disbelief. He once again considered the probability this was all a dream. How was a bastard not only invited into Daenerys Targaryen's willing mouth but instructed by the highborn goddess, herself, to adjust her bedding for a better view of it? Daenerys, who had fetched a clip from her desk to hold her hair back, noticed Jon's furrowed brow and concerned expression. "Don't look so flustered," she assured him, clipping her hair up into a more constrained cascade of silver-gold, "Could you have stopped after just one taste?"
Dany clawed her way up to him as he clawed at her furs, bracing himself the same way she had done. Dany slithered seductively toward him, using only her tongue to scoop him back into her mouth. She tilted her head to either side as she slowly moved up and down his length once more. Her eyes, blooming lilacs beneath thick, dark eyelashes, monitored Jon's reactions. As soon as he eased into her slow, melodic sucking, she decided it was time to see if she could make him shake.
His gaze followed her as she sat upright, licking her hand, palm to tip. Securing it around him, she thrust upward in a pulling motion, curving her palm against his tip, flipping her hand as she dragged it back down him. Up again, she pushed, dragging the palm of her balled fist across him once more. Jon tried not to give too much away with either his expressions or his voice, but his poorly stifled whimpers kept escaping through a jutted jaw and half-bitten lip. His dark eyes glazed as he pried them open to watch her working at him. Dany could tell he was trying to last as long as he could. She just wanted him to feel every bit as transcendent as he had done to her.
She lowered her head again, incorporating her mouth together with her hand, twisting her palm from side to side as she massaged him up and down, her mouth following each stroke with haste, saliva dripping down his shaft. She began twisting her head opposite to her palm, hoping to overwhelm him with sensations, as he had done to her. With the tugging of her hand, Dany managed to draw his foreskin down, making it all the more sensitive as her tongue went swirling. Jon bit into his lip so hard she thought he'd draw blood.
After discerning that he must be close, Dany took one last look at him before closing her eyes, dedicating all of her remaining faculties this late hour to keep her rhythm strong. With her eyes shut, Jon felt a little more at ease to watch her, finding the eye contact to be a bit daunting, at least while experiencing all the new sensations. He watched her breasts swaying in unison with each stroke, her arched back elevating her ass just enough to stoke the fantasy that he might one day take her from behind. That brief thought, paired with the memory of how his fingers felt almost trapped in the tightness of her sweltry cunt was enough to break his concentration.
Finally, he succumbed to her skillful efforts, toes curled, muscles clenched. He let out a gruff, exhausted groan, writhing beneath her now-slacken caress. Her swollen lips remained tightly wrapped around him, devouring him the same as he did, her. With a sigh of relief, Jon's muscles visibly relaxed beneath his pale skin, and only then did Dany take her mouth away from him, swallowing, and slowly sucking him clean in her retreat.
She wiped her numb mouth with a tired hand and collapsed onto her lover. Dany weaved her fingers through Jon's damp mop of hair. She planted a tender kiss on his mouth, before dropping her head to his chest as they both recovered. Jon adjusted his breathing to match hers.
Dany was the first to break the silence after a moment. "Jon..." her voice lingered, inquisitive in tone.
"Yes?" he murmured, his voice still drunk with lust.
"What was... um," she trailed off, taking a moment to find the right combination of words, "Where... did you learn to do that?"
"From you," he replied, without a lick of hesitation.
"What?" she countered, confused.
"Like I said, I do a lot of dreamin' about you, too, you know. That's the one I liked best, so I tried it. I followed your cues so I'd know how to do it," he explained. Dany's face flushed further, if at all possible. She had no recollection of giving any cues. It was all a blur of ecstasy in her memory.
"Oh. Well, it was..." she trailed off once more, raising a hand weakly to emphasize a word she searched her mind for, but couldn't provide. She was unable to find a single word that could appropriately describe the experience he had given her.
Jon laughed, pleased with himself that she had been at such a loss for words. "And what about you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Where'd you learn all that?" Jon asked, his accent lazily rounded his consonants just in the way Dany loved.
She considered for a moment. "Huh," she concluded, "I guess you did the same for me, in a way. I followed your lead, feeling a bit spiteful, and then competitive," she remembered. "That, or fantasizing about your cock in my mouth all year must've paid off."
Jon grinned at her, cheeks suddenly flushed red at her crudeness, despite having tumbled around with each other all night. "Dany..." he uttered meekly, sounding embarrassed.
"Jon," she purred, an eyebrow raised playfully.
"You're lucky it was only a year, for you."
"Oh?" she perked up to examine his eyes. "Longer?"
"As far back as I can remember," he confessed, shyly. "Even as a boy all I wanted to do was kiss you." Dany nuzzled into him, surprised it took her so long to really notice him. She felt regretful they hadn't started sooner.
"What now?" Jon asked, breaking what he felt was an awkward silence.
"Well," she started, lifting herself up from his chest, reaching for her goblet. As her breasts nearly brushed against his face, Jon boldly stretched his neck out to catch one of her nipples between his lips. He gently bit down on it, watching it wiggle as he let go.
She laughed at the unexpected nip, "Sit up, Jon, have a drink."
Jon did as commanded, taking a large swig, but leaving enough for Dany to finish off. She emptied the goblet and rather, let it fall gently to the floor this time.
"Hmm, what now," she pondered, snuggling back into his chest. "We sleep. But not for long. Soon the sun will rise, as will we, with everyone else. Then, we'll pretend none of this had ever happened."
Jon looked disappointed at the final part of her conclusion, "What?"
"For appearance's sake, not with each other," she quickly clarified, removing her clip as her hair spilled across her back, and his chest. "When the darkness returns and the castle goes quiet, I will require your services once more."
"My services?" he played dumb, hoping to coax her desires out of her, so he had something to fantasize about through the day as he struggled against the pull of sleep.
"As much as I dreamed of it before, after tonight... I must have you inside me. Every inch. I'll go mad without it. Do you want to be responsible for inciting madness in the last Targaryen, Jon Snow?" she laughed. Jon pursed his lips, the joke a bit too dark, even for him.
"I jest, but only about the second part," she teased, before leaning in closer, "Every inch," she reminded him with a torrid emphasis, flames licking both words.
"Mmm," he hummed weakly, hoping to give the impression of a tired but lustful response, though in truth he felt conflicted. There's nothing he could think of that he'd be unwilling to do to her had she asked or insisted. On the other hand, one of Jon's driving forces was his desire to never father bastards of his own. Every inch, her words replayed in his head as he considered them.
It was a huge risk. Daenerys may have feelings for him now, but the implications will only accumulate the older they get. She had a bright future ahead of her. Meanwhile, he didn't even have a last name to give her. Even if he had, there was none more fitting than Targaryen. Daenerys Targaryen, it had always been like poetry to his ears.
Dany's weight compressed as she yielded to slumber. Her steady breathing turned to sweet, soft snoring. Jon's heart swelled in his chest, having her pressed into him in such a way. He could barely enjoy this moment, remembering that some faceless lord waited for the chance to claim Daenerys as his wife, and would expect her maidenhood in tact. There mere consideration of this made him feel ill. She wasn't his, but as she lay nuzzled into his chest fast asleep, it sure felt like she was. He felt tears well in his eyes as his many victories this night seemed all for naught. Perhaps someone like Theon could be content tumbling around in bed with Daenerys and nothing more. But not Jon.
He had all but ruled out Castle Black after tonight, Night's Watch and their offensive vows be damned. But if he stayed, he knew he could only resist her advances so much before he'd have to give in, risking her future, his, and a possible pregnancy.
Jon lay awake for the scant few hours they had left before sunrise. The candle had long since burned out when the sun started to seep from the crack between the shudders. He slipped stealthily from underneath Dany, his shoulder sore from her weight. Or maybe her kick. Her room still smelled of sweat and sex. He dressed quickly and quietly as he could manage, taking one last look at the silver-haired beauty who had mercilessly claimed his heart. He smiled warmly, only to follow it up with a sigh. Jon was too familiar with the feeling of happiness immediately chased by guilt. He wasn't even sure it came in any other form.
After gathering his boots, he grabbed her key from the hook, locking her inside as he left. He slid the key under her door, hoping she would find it when she woke. He pulled his boots on a few paces away and skulked off as the last throes of twilight surrendered to dawn. Through a window, he spied the comet streaking against the sky once more, stopping a moment to consider whether it was truly a sign of luck, or a bad omen looming. He carried on, wasting his wish on the former.
