VII
Érotique
Regardless of whether Sansa felt anything for Margaery in the past, at this point in time, it was undeniable she felt that gorgeous feeling now. It was that one youthful, sentimental feeling. You know the one, the fluttering, twinkling one you get in your stomach somewhere between childhood and the teenage years, when your flourishing heart has sought something new and shiny and has completely latched itself onto its very essence, finding nothing in the world to beat for.
This series of new emotions stirring through her now was absolutely nothing like the little crush she had on the king all those moons ago.
What's wrong with me? Sansa thought as she lit the last candle in the row of flames along the windowsill. A saline breeze blew in from the sea and her eyes wandered outward.
The view from up here was perplexingly beautiful for such a hellish place. The pink and lilac glow of twilight seeped at the edge of the starry sky. Not long ago at all, the sun had sunk below the ocean, and the moon stole its spot, nestled in the billow of silver clouds, shimmering white as a freshwater pearl.
She tore her eyes from this breathtaking sight to something, somehow even more bewildering, the beautiful rose, submerged in the steaming milk water of her tub. Her skin was pinkened with heat, and her youth nourished from the cream blend.
"Bergamot and rose, my love," sang the young thing with a precious smile, motioning to the vile of oil and flower petals along the polished edge.
"That sounds heavenly," Sansa said matter-of-factly as she moved forward, over the goddess, trying to maintain her cool gaze while fighting the urge to peer down through the glass transparency of the fogged water. Her prize was so close, a bat-of-the-eye away, but she remained well behaved. Margaery followed her with her eyes in a personal way and Sansa wondered to herself with hope if this sweet feeling was mutual.
It felt that way, but then again, Margaery had a romantic personality; she had an intimate way, able to make you feel like the most special person in the world just by the sweet rise and fall of her delicate voice.
Sansa plucked the cork off the bottle and tossed the rich, fragrant contents into the ripples of milk water.
"Mm," Margery sighed pleasantly, closing her eyes and relaxing back against the tub as the crisp citrus and floral aroma seeped into the steam.
She leaned back just far enough to kiss the threshold of exposure. Sansa found herself staring with uncontrollable interest, seizing this opportunity of her closed eyes. Sansa had never before thought she was attracted to women before this very moment. The girl inched out further, slowly, seemingly taunting her as her red engorged nipples came visible above the steaming water.
Sansa's eyes followed the curve of her now exposed breasts; steaming drips of water rolled down her tender flesh, pinkened with warmth. The glowing candlelight romantically bounced off her gleaming, wet skin.
Sansa realized it had been silent for too long. Her mind raced for something, anything to say to her.
"How is the water?" she finally put into the quietness.
"Delightful," Margaery answered calmly, opening her bright sapphire eyes and slid up, leaning forward out of the water in a way so both her slick bare breasts were now completely visible to the younger girl.
"Care to join me?" she laughed.
Sansa wasn't sure what was more exhilarating; the thrilling swing in her voice or the arousing sight of her nudity, but both of these beautiful things beckoned and tempted her to strip completely bare and slip into the steam beside her. An internal voice urged her not to get too ahead of herself. Like many other times in her life, hesitation struck her willfully, and she considered the idea Margaery could be very well just playing around.
Sansa's feelings must have shown on her face because the older girl suddenly let out another merry, exciting laugh.
"Maybe another time then?"
"Y-yes, next time," she answered with an effort.
"That's quite alright," Margaery's voice was delicate as a white violet. "I'm short on time tonight, anyhow," her eyes wandered out to the dark window, flickering with the flame's dancing shadows as a dream overtook her.
"Why's that?" asked Sansa.
When she turned back, there were stars in her eyes.
What is that look? I wonder.
"Promise not to tell?" her voice was a wild tonic in the steam.
"I swear to the old gods and new," Sansa's words jumped, the anticipation biting at her. "Tell me."
Margaery bit her lip excitedly, holding onto her little secret for just a breath longer.
"He's coming to see me," she whispered with romantic aesthetic as if she had just revealed to her the very meaning of life itself. Although she was vague, Sansa knew exactly who he was. The only he in her life now and ever will be.
"King Joffrey, protector of the realms and my whole heart," she sang out innocently with a laugh, like a love-struck little school girl.
Irritation distilled in Sansa at the thought of Joffrey's rough, dirty paws feeling up her sweet little rose. His fondling touch polluting her skin with sickness.
What in the seven bloody hells does she see in that demented fiend?
"He's coming to see you?" There was a rising urgency in Sansa's voice."For what? It would be indecent at this hour."
"Indecent?" Margaery echoed and ironically stood from the water, shimmering and dripping wet, the steam radiating off her clean, bare skin. As Sansa took in the divine, completely nude figure of Margaery, she lost her train of thought, then lost all concept of just about everything, except for the peculiar sensation of throbbing, aching desire.
All in a few heartbeats worth of time, Sansa debated grabbing her right then and kissing her. She imagined what it would feel like to touch her slippery, hot skin, running her hands up and down her slender, feminine curves. Her body was impossible.
"Y-yes," was all Sansa could manage to muster out.
She retrieved the towel for her future queen, and before Margaery wrapped it over herself, Sansa's eyes wandered to her womanhood. It was the most sacred part of her, save her soul; it was smooth and shaved bare and water droplets still dripped from her tender and pink lips, glossy with the warm rose and milk-water.
Sansa's own slit throbbed intensely with need. The sexual tension was growing almost as unbearable as the wet, pounding ache between her legs. Then, the sudden infuriating thought crossed her mind, that in a short amount of time her delicate little rose would be roughly taken and pounded by Joffrey. She knew he would be anything but gentle with her; he would squeeze and slap and throw her around.
I'll kill him.
She scrambled to think of a way to prevent this tragedy from happening but she came up with nothing. It was inevitable. There was absolutely nothing she can do but watch as he fucks and abuses her throughout their remaining years together; unfortunately and eventually impregnate her, cursing this slowly decaying world with more unnecessary malevolence of Lannister spawn.
"You must be a virgin when you wed him," Sansa pointed out desperately.
"And I will be," Margaery scoffed and this time there was a metallic coldness to her voice. With her clean fingers, she scooped a glob of cocoa butter from a silver jar and rubbed massaged it into her hands.
Her distance was foreign as ever.
"Not after tonight," Sansa challenged, as delicately as she could muster, watching the girl rub the butter down her legs, allowing her towel to droop.
"Well, it's a good thing nobody will ever know."
When their gaze met between the twilight, Margaery's eyes were eccentric; so quickly, she seemed to have slipped right between Sansa's fingers, further into the darkness. The shadows of firelight tangled and danced over them as a breeze swept in from the sea.
Suddenly the idea of Margaery and Joffrey having sex didn't seem so bad, in opposition to now, as she stressed over Margaery's overall detachment from her. She wanted Margaery to like her, and she knew there was no way she could come between them.
There was another series of unsettling, thumping heartbeats before it registered with Sansa it was her turn to react. She wanted Margaery's happiness above anything, so she just let go.
"Who would want to spoil the fun anyway?" she laughed with a nervous jump in her voice. She hoped compliance would be enough to settle the edge.
However, Margaery didn't pay any mind to her words at all; her towel had slipped down and she had begun massaging the butter over her breasts.
Is she trying to tease me? Sansa wondered if this was a game. Everything she said and did just felt so personal. Sansa considered the possibility she could just be overthinking things. As her personal court lady, it was her duty to attend Margaery. She knew these cool older girls would bathe together without thinking twice—so why was it so sexual for her?
Sansa must have been looking at her funny because Margaery started to laugh softly at her expression.
"It keeps them perky," she clarified.
"Does it really?" Sansa glanced down to her own chest.
"I think so."
There was another pause of silence, this time much shorter. Sansa didn't want to overstay her welcome.
"It's getting late," she sighed, casting her gaze out to the sea one last time.
"Sansa," Margaery's eyes sought hers through the fading steam, as she took a few paces towards her. She found both her hands and held them in her own.
The psychical contact melted Sansa into a puddle and she struggled to conceal it.
"It will all be okay," her voice was a song and Sansa had to follow the sound of it for a moment. "Have beautiful dreams, my darling."
"Y-You as well."
"Goodnight, dear."
It was late. It had to have been quite sometime after midnight when Margaery began to doze off. She had been propped up in her goose feather and silk duvet, reading by the candlelight with a bottle of rosée when the rain had picked up again.
Her suitor arrived in the dead of the night, silent as the fall of snow, slipping into her chambers like a shadow amid the wavering candle flames.
It was the gentle, soft squeak of her door that had awoken her. That sound, the exact one she had been waiting so impatiently for all night, had finally drifted into her sleeping subconscious, tugging her out of her rest.
The sleep was eating her brain and with an effort, her eyes open for a blurry second of dim flickering light to shadows on the wall, they closed heavily, then opened again, this time catching the active silhouette among the shadows in her peripheral.
Briefly confused from sleep, she strained her eyes to in the gloom to see who or what this shadow was, to figure whether it was even real or not, but just as her vision was beginning to adjust, there was a swift rustling movement over her before the candle snapped out, the soft light fleeing all too fast, as the new curtain of absolute blackness took over.
All in a heartbeat's worth of time, suddenly fear had her in its grip. Her mind was hazy from sleep, but the gears started to turn, and as the events of earlier today and tonight slowly but all came back to her at once.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, it seemed to sink into the rest of the world. There was a sudden shifting of weight on her bed, then things slowly started to make sense. She was a different kind of frightened at this point on, now that she comprehended exactly what was going on.
Margaery wanted to say something and at the very moment this thought occurred to her before his name could even leave her tongue to stray out in the dark, cool air, he had beat her to it.
"Yes, it's me."
God had answered her in a whisper.
He had read her mind. His excited voice stringing like a harp in the dark, under the pattering fall of rain, was impossible but it was precisely right in front of her. It all felt like a dream, and she sat up in her bed, only to come face to face with her shadow prince.
She could hardly make out the shape of him, but he was close enough to kiss, in the cool blackness, his breath was a warm ghost over her face, promising he was very real and this was very happening.
There were millions of things to think about.
She knew what was about to happen. in the next few moments, they would deflower each other and as anyone could imagine, her mind was racing frantically; it was a surging storm of emotions, a nervous excitement of flustering lustrous lust.
There was a light sadness in her heart for the loss of her innocence, but soon remembered it was for a good cause, under the gentle graze of his warm, tickling breath.
"It's you," her echo was a whisper too. It's always you.
Her eyes had adjusted to the nightfall, the moonlight seeped through the window catching the drifting, floating dust and made his wispy blonde hair appear white as an angel's. His eyes were crystal balls in the luminance of starlight and he breathed with life, his soul inevitably mystifying her, no matter how close they trained together.
Then he kissed her in the blue dark.
She blossomed beneath his touch of soft youth and diamonds rings.
He was making her crazy.
He had appeared to her in the night like a phantom, and Margaery, drunk off his dreamlike presence, could faintly taste the irony on his lips; the subtle tonic of gin.
The only sound was the roaring fall of rain on the palace. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
For a secret moment, they were nothing more than two kids, kissing in the dark. The thrill of misbehaving was enough to hook her, let alone the tender feeling of his lips, warm and oddly gentle against hers.
There was a feeling that sang in her heart, it was beautiful and indescribable and she thought it might be love.
In one motion, he moved between her legs and while leaning his whole weight into her he pushed his tongue into her mouth as he went. The feeling in her heart spread like a bolt of lightning straight to her core, with newfound arousal. His diamond hands, glimmering in the starlight, weighed down on her shoulders to pin her against the mattress.
He had never been over her like this. He smelled so good. The feeling of his weight pressing against the aching throb between her thighs was so good.
There was power in his grip and she could sense the thrashing, howling dominance he was struggling to keep under control.
It'll spill over soon.
His thirsty tongue sank deeper into her mouth as if he wanted to devour her. He was growing more restless by the second, the aggression in his movements and touch was only a glimpse of what was boiling beneath his surface. Amid the exciting passion of breath and touch, a physical intimacy had established itself between them.
The sound of rain was heavy on the roof, as she pulled him closer to her, her arms coiling around his neck, as she let her fingers play and curl through his soft golden locks. She traced the outline of his ear, making the boy shudder under her sweet touch.
It seemed as though, whenever she could get a reaction out of him, it provoked him.
Through the confusion of kissing and touching one another, he gathered her wrists and pinned them over her head in the pillows, squeezing them tightly in his grip.
He had leaned his body so far into her, she could feel the hardened, throbbing excitement stirring beneath his layers of black.
His kiss was growing rather sloppy with that magic, first time excitement; the wet hotness of his mouth tangling with her own hungrily.
And although this would be her first time too, his sloppiness made her think of his age and for some reason, it was suddenly so hot how much younger he was than her. Margaery was so turned on by the way he was holding her down like that, pushing his tongue deep into her mouth.
It surprised her how good he was at using his mouth at his age, with such a lack of experience.
And his hands, she thought, as one held her wrists tightly against the bed and the other one found her thigh to grip and squeeze it roughly. The forcefulness of his touch was making her so wet, she began grinding herself against his addicting hard on. She had to have more. She imagined the sweet ecstasy of him driving it into her.
"Joff," a thrill passed over her as she moaned out his name, right now in the dark, when his tongue left her mouth to tease the sensitive, delicate flesh of her throat. The arousing, stiff feeling of his boner pushing against her throbbing core was becoming too much to stand.
She wanted Joffrey to fuck her so badly. She moaned, leaning her neck into his warm, wet mouth. He licked her skin slowly, and it was such a gorgeous, sexy feeling she noticeably shuddered beneath him. He licked her, running his tongue gently over her tender throat then sucked on her for a couple of moments allowing a pinkened spot to form before his pointed fangs nipped at her fairness, sending chills down her spine.
"Touch me," she suddenly whined, forcing herself further against him.
"Touch you?" he echoed in an innocent voice, smirking hotly against her throat, as his boyish fingers rubbed and squeezed the soft, sensitive flesh of her slender thigh then trailed back up the curve of her hip.
The throbbing, burning feeling of need between her legs was growing unbearable between the share of his mouth, fingers, and cock.
"Joffrey, touch me. Pleaasse," she couldn't get this whining tone to leave her voice and it seemed to entertain him.
When he laughed softly in the dark, she could see his teeth, white and sharp, catching in the glow of moonlight.
"I want to feel you inside me," said Margaery.
This, however, grabbed his attention, as his eyes flashed with dark, desirous excitement.
All too quickly, he seized the hem of her nightgown and slipped it up, past her hips, exposing her throbbing, wet cunt to the cool open air and his excited virgin eyes.
A shock of lightning, shrieked through the sky, causing them both to jump, followed by some low, rumbling thunder.
"Wow," he breathed, staring at her most private part with fascination and although it tickled her stomach and core, turning her on further, she felt oddly shy beneath his gaze.
He had never been up against a naked woman like this before and he took in the erotic, pleasing sight of her pink, swollen cherry. She fought the urge to cover herself with her hands and took a breath to just collect herself, but he was already pulling the rest of her gown past her stomach and up over her chest, so it was in bunches around her neck, revealing her nice perky set of tits to him. She was completely naked, her whole body on display just for the king.
"My goddess," his low, growling voice was hardly a whisper as his hungry eyes swept over her pale, bare breasts and shaved cunt, wet and slick with throbbing, aching lust.
She felt so shy and exposed under his appraising eyes, and wanted to hide under the blankets but Joffrey was still pinning her wrists against the bed.
She could only wriggle beneath his grip. Her skin glazed over with gooseflesh and her nipples had hardened in the cool exposure.
Joffrey was mesmerized by her female body parts as his free hand met the soft curve of her breast, making her sigh at the tender contact, and began to caress her at first his fingers explored her, gently moving over her soft flesh. Then, when the excitement bugged him, he squeezed her whole breast in a tight handful, getting rougher with each passing breath.
Margaery gasped sharply when he pinched her hard nipple, rolling the sensitive, red bud between his thumb and forefinger. He lowered his head so his lips could meet the soft flesh of her breast. He brought his mouth to kiss her skin once, then twice, then he squeezed her nipple tightly between his fingers, making her gasp again and cry out in the dark.
"I'm going to have fun with you," his edge voice was a warm, tickling breath, fanning over her nipple, then she felt him close his soft lips around it to suck on the hardened rosebud.
Margaery craned her neck to look down so she could watch him. It made it that much hotter to see it happening; his tongue and lips working around the sensitive bud.
She was throbbing with need as she tried to relax into the hypnotizing feeling of his mouth when suddenly he bit down hard on her, and she cried out sharply in the darkened room as his teeth sank into her, with a sharp flare of pain.
She knew he was into the way he hurt her; she could feel his layered erection pulsing against her bare cunt as she cried out in painful pleasure.
"Do it again," she whispered when she could see the look of thrill on his face. "I know you can bite harder than that."
His eyes found hers in the leaking starlight for a moment of silence, as it registered in his head he had just found his soulmate. He watched her with amazement as if he had never seen a living, breathing girl before.
This time, his mouth found her other breast and he teased her hard nipple with his tongue, making her sensitive bud slick and wet before biting down on it with a sharp, stinging pinch. His mouth was made for sex. As he squeezed and massaged her other breast roughly, he continued to suck on this one, and occasionally bite it, just to softly laugh to himself when she gasped and cried, his breath tickling and warm against her flesh. They were still grinding together, the feeling of his hard-on rubbing and rolling between her smooth, shaved lips, and against her engorged, tingling clitoris was so intensely good she could probably orgasm if they just continued to do only that.
She suddenly wondered why he wasn't naked too.
"Take off all your clothes," she whispered.
She was dying to undress him herself, but her wrists were still bounded in his grip.
Joffrey's warm, inviting mouth left her wet nipple in the cool air to look up into her eyes.
"A little bossy, tonight, are we?" his edgy tone and hot breath ghosting over her chest made her flush pink and wriggle shyly as she struggled to maintain her cool composure.
"And really wet too," she added smartly in a low voice, as she rolled her hips against him.
He smirked.
I love that face.
"Stretch me out, my king," she pleaded in this sweet, tempting tone. She fanned her legs out further so every bit of her wet, glossy folds could grind against the expensive fabric of his black garment. His boner pulsed against the sweetness.
The king bit her again, really hard this time, making her yelp in pain, and to stroke the flames, he pinched her nipple tightly, squeezing the sensitive bud until her eyes glazed with tears.
"Well," he ran a hand, tenderly down her front, "if you insist," his fingertips teased over her lips, stroking up and down over the tenderness a few times, before he began to gently rub her swollen clit, teasingly slow, in circles, causing her to gasp and moan with pleasure.
"Joffreyyy," she whined sexually, bucking her hips against his hand while the other still held her in place. She could feel the ridges of his diamond rings rubbing against her sleek, wet folds, and without any warning, his middle finger sank into her tight, wet entrance.
She gasped as a small part of him entered her, two thick, diamond rings on this finger made it a tighter fit.
The look on his face was priceless as he explored this new unfamiliar feeling of the inside of a woman, the wet feeling of her walls squeezing his finger.
"You're so wet," he said matter-of-factly, extracting his finger and examining the slick arousal coating it. There was blood too.
He must have broken through completely or at least part of her maidenhead.
Margaery found his gaze, mortified, but he merely smiled at her giving her an enormous sense of relief.
He didn't seem bothered at all and he brought his face back up to hers to french her. Before their lips touched, their tongues did out in the air, and it was so hot she thought she might explode with arousal.
Their tongues tangled together in a wet, steamy collision, while his fingertips continued to teasingly trace the outline of her tender lips and then faintly over the sensitive clit, stroking her only a few times, making her whimper with each time, then he took his fingers away to tease her and watch her squirm with need.
"Please fuck me, Joffrey," she whined, thrusting her throbbing, wet pussy against his stiffness. "Please."
He smiled at the sound of her begging, his expensive fingers left her wet cunt throbbing and untouched, as he squeezed her juicy asscheek.
"I need to feel you, my big, sexy king, please, Joff," she begged, praying her sweet talk would appeal to him.
He smiled at her with his gleaming pointed teeth, loving every bit of the pleading want in her voice.
"Let me make you feel so good, Daddy," she continued to coax him, and his eyes flashed wildly with excitement.
"Daddy?" he echoed, she could see his bright eyes and fangs only, then he leaned into her mouth, pushing his tongue to the back of her throat. His fingers had generously returned to her aching, pounding cherry.
Margaery spread her legs wide for him, so his adolescent fingers could explore every crevice of her sweet spot, she for a few hypnotizing moments of ecstasy, she melted into the feeling of his fingertips rubbing her tingling clitoris.
How is he so good at this?
Some more thunder rumbled in the distance.
Joffrey suddenly bit down on her bottom lip, and she gasped and winced at the sharp, piercing feeling. He bit hard enough until she whimpered and yelped in pain, hard enough until she could taste the coppery tang of blood.
This time, two of his fingers dipped into her wet warmness and she moaned in pleasure as he began to pump them in and out. His fingers felt so so good as he fucked her with them, his jewelry was adding thickness.
His hand finally let go of her wrists, to seize her throat in a tight grip.
"I know you like it when I'm rough with you," he hissed violently in her ear, his fingers squeezing tighter around her fragile throat.
For a moment, it felt like he wanted to kill her.
She gasped as the air quickly began to leave her, as he continued to fuck her with his glittering fingers. She instinctively reached for his hand, tightened around her air support, but when her fingers met his cool skin, she paused. Her brain screamed at her to pry his hand off of her, but her heart allowed her to hold it, with love.
There was a glowing excitement in his eyes; she could tell her submission was exactly what he wanted.
There was no air left in her lungs and although she was beginning to get dizzy she remained calm, the feeling of his fingers suddenly rubbing on her tingling clit was rapturous. She caressed his hand with one of her own, and with the other, she stroked his down the side of his pale, angelic face. Her fingers ran sweetly over his sharp cheekbone. The morbid glow in his eyes softened at her delicacy, and his grip around her throat gradually began to loosen.
After extracting his fingers from her, he finally, let go of her throat and she gasped for breath.
"I...love it..rough," she panted, gazing up at him among the pillows and blankets. He was beautiful looming over her like this. The way the starlight and shadows fell over the angles of his face made him look like an angel.
He suddenly sat up and then there was only the metallic sound his gold belt clasp working in the dark then the sharp, leather lick when he whipped it off himself.
The nervous, tingling excitement ate at her, as she watched the glorious removal of his clothes. She couldn't wait to see him naked, and when she licked her lips, she could still taste blood on her lip from where he bit her.
After fighting through the expensive, top layers, Joffrey finally discarded his white undershirt, and his new exposure naturally turned Margaery on even more if that's even possible. Laying sprawled and naked on the bed, she surveyed his bare, pale shoulders and chest, taking in each ridge and line of his subtle muscles.
Now she could see, he was still just a cub.
Although his physique was on the boyish side, his shoulders were already broad, and he had a bit of muscle around his abdomen, and clinging to his biceps but she could tell in just a few years he would fill out more with age.
There were a few glittering chains around his neck, and shiny, thick gold rings on his fingers. Powerful fingers of a king, his cute, boyish, little fingers. She stared at them for a second as he worked the golden buttons his pants. They were still wet from just being inside her. There was something about his fingers that made her so fucking horny and she had no idea why.
Before Joffrey could continue taking off his pants, she reached out in the dark and coiled arms around him like a trap, pulling him in her naked embrace. She couldn't stand for them to be apart for another second.
Margaery started kissing him in the erotic tangle of their warm, bare youthful flesh and he just went along with it.
For a romantic moment, her arms laced around his neck, pulling his face close to hers so she could kiss along his jaw and down his throat while he struggled to get the rest of his clothes off with her clinging to him like this.
As soon as she heard the glorious sound of his pants coming off he pulled away from her.
"Flip over," he ordered, and just for just a second, she could feel the smooth, hardness of his perfect cock brush against her leg.
Before she could even react, he grabbed her tiny waist, squeezing her as he flipped her over himself, so she was on all fours facing away.
Up on his knees, struggling to balance among the pillows, he positioned himself before her spread legs; her pussy throbbed and ached under his gaze so intensely it was almost unbearable.
"Fuck me, King Joffrey," she whined, wriggling her hips impatiently.
She then let out a cry as he abruptly grabbed a tight fistful of her hair and jerked her head back violently, forcing her to arch her back like a bow. Her figure was immaculate, and the young king took a moment to himself to just assess every impossible curve on her goddess-like body.
"You are..." his low voice trailed off so he could run his hand, slowly down the steep curve of her arching back, then back up to squeeze the smooth, plumpness of her peachy ass cheek, "...all mine."
He slapped her ass, causing her to gasp at the sudden sound, not so much the subtle sting.
He doesn't even hit that hard, she thought to herself with concealed amusement.
However, she had underestimated the boyish force of the last slap, because this time, when his powerful hand came down to slap her ass it stung so sharply, she accidentally let out a loud, pained wail as she jumped against the hot blow.
"That's more like it," he spat, yanking on her hair again, so she would whimper and arch more.
She worried if they were being too loud. What if her cries could be heard through her bedroom door echoing down the halls? Or the sharp, unmistakable sound of him slapping her ass?
She imagined the king would handle it if someone interrupted them.
Joffrey slapped her in the same spot causing her to yelp again. It was beginning to burn. Each time he spanked her, the strength of his blows increased until tender flesh of her ass cheek was red and raw.
It hurt, but she didn't mind. She would let him take his time and have his fun. He had never played with a woman's body before and so he was obviously very fascinated with every delicate curve. He was seemed intrigued equally by the sexual aspect and the pain but his foreplay was pristine. Though, she wondered when they would get to the best part. She was dying to feel his cock stretch her out.
Finally, as if reading her mind, he let go of her hair, relieving so much tension from her scalp, to grip the sides of her hips with both his hands.
He squeezed her ass as he held her in place to guide himself in, correctly. Margaery felt the smooth head of his cock tease against her lips, but he hesitated to push himself in.
"Come on, tiger," she encouraged, in a low sensual voice, shaking her hips a little. The feeling was so slight against him, but it was so sweet.
She looked back at him and met his eyes for a second. In that one second, she could see whatever innocence he had left, draining from him. It was the loss of his innocence that she should have actually been worried about, not her own.
Suddenly, Joffrey slapped her ass another time, landing a painful blow, thankfully on the other cheek this time. She cried, jumping at the sting.
She faced back to the pillows, as he took her hips, guiding himself to her entrance. The head of his cock pushed between her soft lips, teasing her warm wet folds.
Margaery let out a pleasured moan as he fully drove himself into her tight virgin hole. There was some pain as he broke through her maidenhead. She could feel herself stretching around his thickness, but even just the first thrust felt so good and as he filled her with his length, pushing himself as deep as he could go. He felt so much better than her fingers.
"H–ohh my god," his voice came out with a husky crack, as the warm, tight, wet feeling of ecstasy squeezed around his cock.
Joffrey slid himself all the way back out, slowly, enhancing the feeling. For a moment she couldn't feel him anywhere. She craved his touch; she would die without it.
"There's more blood," he said without any emotion.
Margaery turned her head back around and saw her naked king behind her, standing on his knees, holding his bloody cock in his hand while examining it.
It was from the rest of her hymen tearing. She worried Joffrey would be grossed out, but he didn't seem to care too much. He was far from squeamish. In fact, he seemed even more fascinated by the blood than anything.
"Come onnnn," she whined, spreading her legs wider for him to see. Joff stared, mesmerized. "Come fuck me, Daddy."
In her reality, he was the good boy, who let go of his dick to obediently grip her hips again and push himself back inside; the smooth feeling of his cock stretching her out was overwhelming her with pleasure.
"Mmm, Joffreyyyy," she moaned at this new, unfamiliar feeling of his dick filling her. She decided she was obsessed with this feeling as she adjusted to his perfect thickness. She loved that he was quite literally inside of her right now. She felt as if they were welded together or something. At the moment, he was weaved within the fabric of her own self.
Joff pulled himself all the way out of her, so the head of his prick could graze her smooth, pinkened lips for a half a heartbeat, then he slammed himself entirely back in.
Margaery cried out in half pleasure, half pain, at the harsh force.
Joffrey was so mesmerized by how he could make her cry and moan and whine with just his dick.
After he got used to what it felt like to be inside a woman he began to have fun with it.
He pulled back out, then grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back towards him, gaining a pained whimper and forcing her to arch her back.
With every touch, he grew more and more excited. She could feel it in every one of his movements.
More lightning snapped through the sky, illuminating the room for a split second.
He slapped her ass again; it was a wicked blow this time, causing her to cry out and tears jump to her eyes. She was sure her ass was bruised by now, but before she could think any further, he drove his dick back into her tight, wet hole.
She moaned more sexually than she realized she could, causing both of the kids to blush for a soft moment.
Joffrey was evidently excited by the arousing sound of her voice and he started thrusting his cock in and out of her, his grip tightening on her hair. Like a good girl, she didn't whine or object.
"Mmm, my king, fuck me harder" she moaned, arching her slender body for him.
He started to fuck her harder and she smiled to herself upon realizing the infamous King Joffrey was now taking orders from her.
"Good boy," she praised him in a breathless pant, as his royal cock filled her tightness.
"I'm the king," he breathlessly complained, with a deep, penetrating thrust, "Not a boy," sounding very much like a boy.
"Yes, Daddy, yess. You feel so good," Margaery moaned in her sweet exciting voice, not paying any mind to his protest.
The pleasure was starting to drive her over the edge as his pace quickened. As he pounded in and out of her, his cock seemed to reach a particularly sensitive area inside her, there was an intense, tingling flow of ecstasy. Joffrey's harsh grip on her hair extended to the back of her neck, forcing her face against the bed.
While he continued to fuck her, he slapped her ass again; it felt like as hard as he could and she whimpered into the pillows. For a second it went completely numb. Then it throbbed and tingled, with stinging fiery pain. It was hard to focus on the pain though, with such intense pleasure at the same time. He was hitting that sacred spot inside her, a feeling she obsessed over and fell in love with.
She knew two things: She loved sex and she loved Joffrey.
The feeling was building, inside her, escalating with every powerful thrust. She felt she might explode. She knew she was about to reach her climax. As Joffrey continued to fuck her, hitting that sweet spot, she finally achieved that exploding, blissful feeling. The tingling electric began to overtake her in waves of pleasure.
He was perfect. His cock was made for her.
"Joff, don't stop," she cried out, shaking with ecstasy. The wet walls of her tight pussy squeezed around him as she climaxed and convulsed with pleasure. "Mmmm, baby..."
She squeezed her eyes shut, seeing white flashes as the waves of her climax washed over her, while he continued to fuck her. After a few breaths, she began to recover.
Still trembling, she struggled to turn back and look at him; she could only catch a glimpse of his bright blue eyes, glowing in the dewy twilight, before he roughly forced her face back into the mattress and her ass higher.
"Hold still," he growled, his grip left her neck to hold her hips. With her ass up and her legs spread like this, he was able to get in there deeper than ever. His cock was hitting that perfect sweet spot inside her as he fucked her harder and faster. His next words came out shaky, "I-I'm about to cum."
The feeling of Joffrey's cock, slamming in and out of her was such an intense, unique feeling and she had never felt anything like it before in her life.
"Where do you want it?" he panted.
She hadn't even thought about this part. To speak truthfully, she wanted him to finish inside of her. She wanted to feel his priceless, royal seed fill her up until it leaked out of her freshly fucked hole, and hopefully impregnate her with an heir. She thought it might be better to wait until they're married. She didn't want to bloat in her wedding dress.
"In my mouth," Margaery breathed, "I want to taste you again," she moaned, the feeling of him penetrating her was pure ecstasy.
After a few more deep, tingling thrusts, Joffrey pulled his slick cock from her dripping cunt and pumped himself while she swiftly turned around to kneel before him and take him in her mouth.
She could taste the sex on his dick, as she took him between her soft red lips, pushing him far back in her throat while her tongue moved around his shaft. The feeling must have been amazing because he moaned with pleasure when he entered the wetness of her mouth.
Grabbing handfuls of her hair, the king began to fuck her wet mouth violently but not for so long. Tears filled her eyes as she choked on his cock, but she was determined to make him finish off with a bang. He was ready to blow his load any second. She reached up, to tenderly squeeze and massage his tight ball sack as she took him as far back in her throat as she could handle.
Joffrey groaned, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut as he finally reached that sweet release. His warm cum was drizzling down her throat and she even continued to suck on him, making him wriggle and moan more as she swallowed it all, sucking every last drop from the tip.
"You are something else," he sighed, breathlessly taking himself from her mouth.
Margaery collapsed into the blankets, exhausted from all the excitement. She was all sticky and hot, and she felt stretched out, but she continued to gaze up at him under the moonlight, admiring the love of her life.
"That was lovely," she watched the subtle muscles on his chest flex as he pawed through the blankets looking for his clothes.
"Yes, I had fun, sweetness," he said starting to get dressed but she really didn't want him to.
"No, keep them off," she objected, grabbing his hand, pulling him back down to the bed. "Lay with me."
Joffrey sighed and dropped his underwear, "I guess I will this time."
"Yay," she beamed up at him, as he moved towards her.
"But only because you're my little queen," he settled in the blankets beside her. "I don't usually listen to anyone else."
Margaery let out a cute, excited laugh and Joffrey was blank for a second before a smirk teased the corner of his mouth.
They snuggled together, under the continuous hail of rain. It didn't take long for the kids to fall asleep.
Joffrey continued to lay with her, even when the sky grew blue with the light of dawn. Margaery dozed in and out of sleep, her face resting against his rising and falling chest, listening to the soft thump of his heart and his faint even breathing.
Margaery may have been head over heels for him before, but now she truly felt this emotional connection with Joffrey. She knew she was beginning to fall in love with him. This was the real thing.