Prince Daemon pulled his head to the side and smiled slightly at the satisfying crack. When Egg had told him that one of his first acts as king would be to relieve Jon Connington of his post as Hand of the King, Daemon was pleased. Neither brother cared for their late father's sycophant, who had, for as long as either of them could remember, been an unpleasant, judgmental cunt, and Daemon had been happy to see him go. As preparations for the upcoming coronation ramped up, however, the new Hand found himself almost missing his predecessor.
He brushed his fingers over the pin on his chest as he climbed the stairs of the Tower of the Hand and sighed. He had been raised with the expectation that he would someday be his brother's Hand, but he never expected it to happen so soon. Neither brother expected to be in their current roles so young.
"Daemon," his lovely wife, Rhaenys, said as soon as he'd entered their chambers. "What's wrong?"
"The Small Council's doing their best to make me wonder which will come first, the coronation or my descent into madness," Daemon groaned as he sat on their bed.
Rhaenys crawled behind him and started massaging his shoulders, making him groan.
"Thank you," he said.
"You're so tense," she said. "Is it really that bad?"
"The logistics are irritating to begin with, and it seems like some new problem pops up at least once or twice a week," Daemon replied, "but I'm getting through it. At least Father left the coffers full, so I won't have to worry about how to pay for the fucking thing."
Rhaenys stilled at his words: "I still can't believe he's gone."
"Neither can I," Daemon said. "He always seemed so strong."
"He was good at hiding it," Rhaenys said quietly.
"I need to visit the nursery later," Daemon said, changing the subject.
"I was there earlier," Rhaenys said. "Our little Baela's getting bigger every day."
"Did she say anything?" he asked.
"No," she replied, "I think I was just hearing things the other day. What I thought was Kepa might have been babbling. She'll speak soon enough; she's perfect."
"Well, she is half you," he said, turning around to kiss her. She crawled into his lap and started grinding on his hardening cock through their clothes.
"I...ah...I took my mother with me," she said as he started kissing her neck.
"How's she holding up?" he asked.
"Not well," she replied. "Kepa hid how sick he was from her as well. It came as a shock to all of us."
"Did seeing her granddaughter help?" Daemon asked.
"A little," Rhaenys replied, "and with Margaery due in a couple moons, the gods be good, she'll soon have another grandchild to dote on, but I think she's lonely."
"That would be understandable," Daemon said. "Despite the issues they had at one point, through my whole life, they were so close."
He always felt awkward even bringing that up, being that he was a living reminder of those issues.
"It's been six moons now," Rhaenys said. "I don't think it would be inappropriate for her to start looking for companionship."
"Do you think she would remarry?" he asked. The last time a dowager queen remarried, dragons still flew through the skies.
"I doubt it," Rhaenys said, adding with a grin, "but one doesn't truly need to marry to enjoy companionship."
Daemon chuckled. "I suppose not. There are a couple older widowers I can think of who she might enjoy."
"I wouldn't trust some old lord with her," Rhaenys said. "I was actually thinking about someone closer to home."
"Viserys?" he asked.
"You," Rhaenys replied.
Daemon's jaw dropped.
"Don't look like that," she said; "she wouldn't be the first woman we took to bed."
"Took to…" he trailed off for a moment, still shocked by her words, "Rhaenys, she's your mother."
"And I want what's best for her," his wife replied with a shrug. "You, Valonqar, are the best."
"That would be wrong on so many levels," he protested.
"Since when have Targaryens or Martells cared about such things?" Rhaenys asked.
"She's my stepmother and my goodmother," Daemon pointed out.
"But not your actual mother," Rhaenys argued. "Besides, she might be three and forty, but she's still quite beautiful."
"That's not the point," Daemon said.
"I think it is," Rhaenys said, grinding on him more forcefully. "For all your moralizing and protests, you haven't wilted in the least, my love. If anything, you've gotten harder."
"Fucking hells," he groaned.
"Admit it, Daemon," Rhaenys whispered in his ear, "you want to fuck her. You want to bury yourself deep inside the hole your loving wife came out of. You want to play with the tits I suckled as a babe."
He growled and flipped them over, staring down at her with wild, lustful eyes. He had his breeches down enough to let his cock out in seconds, and he hiked the skirts of her dress up enough to reveal that she was wearing no small clothes.
"Yes!" she screamed as he buried his large cock inside her to the hilt.
"What a wanton creature I married!" he grunted as he pounded her. She was sopping wet just from her lurid fantasy.
"You knew that...ugh...long before we wed," she moaned.
"I did," he laughed. "How many men can say their older sister took them to their first whorehouse?"
"Knew I was...oh fuck, right there...gonna marry you that day," she whimpered. "Those three looked like they'd...oh gods...had a dozen men by the time you were done with them. I had to force them to take the coin."
"You'd asked if I'd ever had a whore," he replied, grinning smugly. "Not if I'd ever had a woman."
He placed his thumb on her lips, and she took it with a grin, sucking on the digit. Once it was good and wet, he brought it between her legs and started stroking her throbbing clit.
"Daemon!" she shrieked, coming undone around him. He let himself go, grunting into her neck as he spilled himself inside her.
"I swear having a babe made you feel even better," he panted.
"Hmm," she sighed as she caught her breath. "We'll have to have another then."
"Maybe we just made one," he said, feeling her stomach through her dress.
She kissed him and said, "I love you."
"And I love you," he replied. "I'll do it if she wants me, but you are broaching the subject. I'm not propositioning my father's widow."
"She'll want you," Rhaenys said confidently. "She might take a while to admit it, but she's been listening to me brag about what a god you are in bed for years."
"Of course she has," Daemon sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Women talk, Valonqar; you know that," his wife giggled.
"Well," he said as he put his breeches back on, "I'm going to go visit our daughter. Are you coming?"
"I just did," she replied, biting her lip, "quite hard too. I'll be along when my legs stop shaking."
He just chuckled and kissed her before making his way down to the nursery.
"And so I officially proclaim you King Aegon, the sixth of your name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. Long may you reign!" the High Septon said.
"Long live the King, long live the King," the chant went through the vast crowd gathered in and around the Sept of Baelor.
"Thank the fucking gods," Daemon muttered under his breath. It had been a trying few moons, but the coronation had gone off without any difficulties. There was still the tourney that would be held in the following days, but all in all, he felt that he could finally breathe again.
Making his way over to his brother, he bowed his head. "Congratulations, your Grace,"
"Make that the last time you call me that," Aegon said. "Consider that an order from your King."
"Yes, well, long may you reign," Daemon said, and lowering his voice, added, "so that I don't have organize another fucking coronation."
Aegon laughed, drawing a couple glances from the assembled nobles.
"I'll do my best," he said wryly, "though if the worst happened, it would still be several years before you had to do so."
He signaled to his very, very pregnant queen.
"You have a point," Daemon chuckled.
"Seriously, though, thank you," Aegon said warmly. "I know I dumped on lot on you these last few moons."
"You had much to do yourself," Daemon said, "not to mention a pregnant wife. I remember what Rhaenys was like in that last stretch."
"I want to meet my son for more reasons than one," Aegon said quietly.
"You really are convinced it's a boy?" Daemon asked.
"According to Mother, a babe that shows in the belly without causing the face to swell is more likely to be a boy, at least in her experience," Aegon replied.
"I must say some good did come of all this," Daemon said. "The coronation gave me an excuse to force those copper-pinching cunts to fund the Gold-Cloak reforms. Can't bring every noble in the land into a crime-infested shithole. Now it's a nearly crime-free shithole."
Aegon snorted.
"Well, there are a few people here I need to talk to," he said. "I'll see you at the feast."
"Congratulations again, brother," Daemon said.
The feast was a suitably splendid affair, and Daemon couldn't help but notice throughout it how comfortable both Aegon and Margaery looked in their roles. The gods had dealt them an unfortunate hand, but he hoped that his brother would be up to the challenge of beginning his reign so young and believed that he was.
"What are you thinking?" Rhaenys asked.
He turned and saw her staring at him in concern.
"You've been staring at Egg for a couple minutes now," she added.
"Just the future," he sighed.
"Well, you do that more than often enough," she said. "I want you to focus on tonight, just for once."
"Any reason in particular?" Daemon asked.
"When you look all serious like that, you remind me of Father," she said. "He spent all his life stressed, and it was a short one."
"I suppose I can relax for a night," Daemon relented, emptying his cup of wine.
"Good," she said, smiling. "I have a surprise for you."
"Oh?" he asked. The last time Rhaenys said she had a surprise, she had silk scarves from Myr that she wanted him to tie her to the bed with.
"I think you'll like it," she whispered in his ear. "Join me in our chambers when you can get away."
The feast hadn't been thrown in his honor and while, as Hand, he was the second-most important man in the room, it still wasn't that difficult to leave. If Aegon's knowing look when he said that Daemon was free to go was any indication, he had noticed Rhaenys leave. Daemon practically ran up the stairs to the chambers he shared with his wife and threw open the door, only to find a sight he did not expect. Elia Martell, the dowager queen and mother of both his wife and his king, was standing by the bed he shared with Rhaenys, wearing nothing but her small clothes.
"I doubt Aegon knew about this," was all he could think as he took in the vision that was his goodmother. He had always thought that she was beautiful, and at three and forty, she still looked lovely. The slight wrinkles by her eyes and on her forehead were the only obvious signs of age he had noticed so far, and as he took in her gorgeous form more fully, he could see that time had been inordinately kind to the rest of her.
"Surprise," Rhaenys said from the bed, alerting Daemon to the fact that she was in the room.
"Surprise?" Elia asked, whipping around to look at her daughter and giving him a view of her nearly-uncovered arse. "You told me he knew!"
"We had discussed this a while ago," Rhaenys said with a shrug, "but he didn't know that it would be tonight specifically."
Neither of them had spoken of his wife's mad idea since the first time, and Daemon had come to believe that she had either decided against broaching the subject with her mother or she had and Elia hadn't been interested.
"I honestly thought that if Rhaenys even brought this up, that you had turned her down," Daemon said, finally able to speak.
"A night of fun with a handsome, capable man?" Rhaenys asked teasingly. "No Dornish woman could turn that down."
"I'll admit I was shocked when Rhaenys first brought it up," Elia said, "and I've been hesitant, but you know as well as I do that she can be very persuasive. What about you, though? Do you really want an old woman in your bed?"
Her tone was light and joking, but Daemon suspected that she was giving voice to a real concern that had weighed on her.
He scoffed, "you stand there, looking like that, and call yourself old?"
"I'd say I'm old enough to be your mother, but she was born nine years after me," she commented.
He cupped her cheek and tilted her head up to look at her. He could see the insecurities in her warm brown eyes, which he had always thought were lovely, and didn't understand them.
"You're beautiful, Elia," he murmured. "I've always thought so."
Before she could reply, he brought her lips to his, and it was like a dam burst. She snaked her fingers into his brown locks and pushed her tongue into his eager mouth. The kiss grew more passionate than he expected, and he was taken aback by her for a moment. He got over his shock quickly enough and kissed her more forcefully, dominating her tongue with his own. His hands went to her arse, and he picked her up, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist. Her arse was plump and lovely, and he could wait to see it ripple as he fucked her from behind.
As he set her down on the bed, Daemon broke the kiss and started trailing hot kisses down her neck.
"Oh gods," Elia whimpered, "it's been so long."
"I've been terribly neglectful if you've become this needy," Daemon murmured.
"I don't think my needs are necessarily your concern, as much as I appreciate the sentiment," Elia said dryly.
"Nonsense," Daemon said as seriously as he could manage, "you're my wife's mother. What kind of husband would I be if I let your needs go untended?"
"You have an odd understanding of marriage," Elia chuckled.
"We're Targaryens mother," Rhaenys said, crawling over and resting her head on his shoulder, "we've always had a different understanding of marriage. Now, help me undress my husband."
Daemon's lips quirked, but he said nothing. Elia and Rhaenys worked together to undress him, first removing the rich black and red tunic.
"Oh my," Elia whispered as she saw his bare chest.
"The body of a Valyrian god," Rhaenys said quietly, running her hands over the well-defined muscles of his middle.
"So many scars," Elia murmured, running her finger over a particularly bad one he had courtesy of an arrow wound.
"I've been in my share of fights," he said with a shrug.
"You've yet to see the best part," Rhaenys giggled. "Come, help me get his breeches off."
Rhaenys sank to her knees beside him and beckoned her mother to do the same across from her. The hunger in Elia's eyes as she joined her daughter was unmistakable, and Daemon found himself wondering just how long it had been for the Dornish beauty.
Four hands moved frantically to free his cock, and when it finally sprang free, Elia's gasp was almost comical. Daemon looked down at her and grinned at the shocked look she had as she just stared at his cock.
"That fits inside you?" she asked her daughter, and Daemon couldn't help the pride that swelled in him.
"Barely," Rhaenys said, her voice low and seductive. "He feels so good inside me, mother. I've told you before."
"I thought you were exaggerating," Elia said, taking his cock in her hand and lifting it to his navel. "By the gods, it's actually heavy.
"As nice as that feels, tonight is about you, Elia," he said.
Daemon held out his hand and lifted her to her feet when she took it. He hugged her to him and kissed her deeply, his cock pressed against the soft, warm skin of her belly. She whimpered into his mouth and let herself be led back to the bed. As soon as she was on her back, he broke the kiss and trailed his lips down to her chest. Her small breasts were still surprisingly pert; age and two children having done little to them. He took one of her hard nipples in his mouth and felt his cock throb when that alone was enough to make her moan. She grabbed his head and held him to her breast as he teased the sensitive nub with his tongue.
As he switched to her other breast, Daemon recalled something that Rhaenys had said when she first suggested this. Unlike most noblewomen, Elia had actually fed her children herself after they were born, and Daemon realized his wife was right; kissing, licking, and nibbling on the nipples she had suckled from as a babe was making his cock painfully hard. He kissed his way down along her soft belly until he reached her smallclothes. He breathed in the heady aroma of her arousal and grinned. The sodden fabric clung to her skin as he peeled it off, revealing her dripping womanhood.
"Daemon," she whimpered as he stared at her fleshy flower. It looked somewhat similar to Rhaenys', he noted, and as he gave the slit one long lick, he noticed they tasted alike as well.
"Oh gods," he heard his wife say. "He's so good at this, mother."
"Rhaenys!" Elia exclaimed, sounding scandalized.
"What?" Rhaenys asked. "I'm lending you my husband; I'm going to enjoy the show."
He looked over and saw that his wife had stripped down while Elia and him were focused on each other and had her fingers lazily stroking her cunt while she watched.
"It's a little late to worry about propriety now, Elia," he chuckled as he buried his face between her thighs again.
"It's just...oh gods, yes!" she cried as he started eating her cunt. Her nails pricked his scalp as he kissed, licked, and sucked on her lower lips. Daemon knew that it had been a while since she had felt the touch of another, and she was absolutely soaked, but he wanted to draw it out. He teased her with his tongue, paying close attention to her reactions as he licked and kissed all over her cunt, avoiding her clit for the time being.
Elia's breathing grew louder as he worked. She wasn't quite as vocal as Rhaenys, but he loved her breathy little gasps all the same. A teasing little flick of his tongue over the throbbing little nub at the apex of her sex was the first thing that got a greater sound out of her.
"Oh yes!" she cried. "Gods, yes, right there!"
He decided that he had teased her enough and started flicking his tongue over her clit.
"Yes, oh fuck, just like that, oh gods, don't stop," she babbled as he continued.
"I said he was good at this," Rhaenys said, sounding smug.
"I didn't doubt yo…" Elia went to reply, only to trail off with a cry when he inserted two fingers into her sopping cunt. He felt the warm, wet tunnel with the pads of his fingers, searching for a spot he knew would drive her mad. When he finally found that little patch of rougher flesh, he curled his fingers up into it and started swirling his tongue around her clit.
"Fuck!" Elia screamed, her nails digging into his scalp as she came. Her thighs shook and squeezed his head, and her whole body writhed as the pleasure coursed through her. A gush of fluid soaked his beard and filled his mouth, which he drank down happily.
After it finally passed, Elia collapsed on the bed, a spent, panting, very happy-looking mess. If Daemon were a gambling man, he would bet that she hadn't experienced anything like that in some time.
"By the gods," she sighed when she had finally caught her breath.
"They took great care with this one," Rhaenys said, wrapping her arms around Daemon from behind, "especially his tongue and cock."
"I'm sure it was a top priority for them," Daemon said sarcastically, earning a giggle from his wife.
He took his cock in hand and rubbed the head on Elia's wet cunt, making her breath hitch, before moving up a bit and placing it on her bed of black curls, smirking at how her eyes widened. It nearly reached her navel, so he couldn't blame her for her shock.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Has any woman ever been ready for that monstrosity?" she asked.
"I wasn't," Rhaenys piped up from behind him. "He split me in half; it was so fucking intense, but as large as he is, he isn't as big as Egg or I were. You'll be fine."
"I remember you saying that you were more prepared for birth than any woman had ever been because of him," Elia laughed.
"Really?" Daemon asked.
"So, I was wrong," his wife huffed.
Daemon chuckled and kissed her before turning back to Elia. Fisting his cock, he placed it by her cunt and pressed forward. She gasped and threw her head back into the pillows as her walls parted for him. She felt wonderful, warm, and so fucking wet. He would have been tempted to ask just how long it had been if he didn't know who the last to have her was. He sank into her in one long, slow push, inch after inch of his cock being enveloped by her wonderful walls until he was buried to the hilt.
"Oh gods," Elia whimpered as he pushed the last inch inside her. "So full."
Her eyes were shut tight, and she was grabbing the bedding so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. She didn't open her eyes until he pressed his lips to hers, and she stared wide-eyed into his own. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. When he pulled half of his cock out of her, she whimpered into his mouth, and when he slammed back inside, she broke off the kiss to cry out. He buried his face in her neck, kissing and nibbling along the slender column as he started fucking her gently.
Daemon knew that he couldn't be as rough with Elia as he was with Rhaenys or as he had been with most of the other women had fucked. She had been born frail and hadn't exactly gotten stronger as she grew older. That didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy her, though; her cunt was divine, and as he picked up his pace just a bit, she started matching his rhythm. Her breasts started bouncing across her chest, and he bent down to wrap his lips around one of her hard nipples.
"Yes, Daemon!" Elia cried, "just like that. So fucking deep!"
He felt her molten depths start to flutter around him and knew that she was close. He reached down to play with her little pearl and grinned at the immediate reaction it got him. Elia's nails raked down his back, and her moans grew louder.
"Gods, fuck!" she screamed as she came undone, her cunt gushing like a fountain around him. Daemon's eyes nearly crossed at the feeling of her hot tunnel undulating around him and squeezing as she came hard. He fucked her through it, holding on with practiced ease, and only stopped when she finally went limp.
"Well done, Valonqar," Rhaenys purred as he pulled out of her mother. Elia just stared blankly at the canopy of their bed as she panted for breath, her whole body covered in a sheen of sweat. "Lie back; I want to ride you."
Daemon rolled over next to Elia and grinned as his wife crawled over to him. He hissed when she licked his cock, still wet with the older woman's juices from root to tip.
"You're such a very bad girl," he groaned.
"You'll have to spank me for it later," Rhaenys giggled, "but right now, I'm going to reward you for being such a wonderful husband."
She picked up his cock, hovered over it, and sank down in one fluid motion. Every time Rhaenys took him inside her, she let out a little gasp, and it never failed to fill him with pride. She quickly showed that she had no interest in starting out slowly, as she almost immediately rode him hard and fast. Her large, full breasts bounced as she rolled her hips. When he tried to sit up, Rhaenys pushed him back down with a grin.
"No, you're going to stay there," she moaned, not slowing down in the slightest. "This is about you, Daemon. Let me do all the work, and tell me when you're close. I want you to finish in my mouth."
"Remind me to do you favors more often," Daemon quipped.
"I was a favor, was I?" Elia asked, having finally recovered.
"An incredibly fun one, I assure you," he replied through gritted teeth.
"Sit on his...oh fuck...his face, Muna," Rhaenys moaned.
"What?" Elia asked.
"Straddle my face with your thighs and...fucking hells, woman," he groaned, "and lower your cunt to my mouth."
"Really?" Elia asked.
"YES!" Rhaenys screamed as she came.
Daemon just barely held himself back from joining her. The feeling of her tight, hot walls squeezing him was incredible.
"Well, if you insist," Elia said with a grin as Rhaenys stopped riding him for a moment.
Daemon welcomed the break and felt his mouth water as Elia straddled his face. Her small breasts showed little sign of her age, and even her stomach had recovered well from her two pregnancies, but her arse had thickened with age, much to Daemon's enjoyment. He dug his fingers into the meaty cheeks and brought her wet cunt down to his mouth eagerly.
"Oh gods," she moaned as he started to devour her.
"Seven hells, I can't believe I'm seeing this," Rhaenys said as she started to ride him again.
"You...gods...you invited me," Elia whimpered. "I'm glad I said yes."
"Muna," Rhaenys whimpered.
Daemon was pretty sure that the two women hugged each other on top of him. When he and Rhaenys had taken other women to bed and ended up in this position, she had generally kissed and fondled them as they rode him. He doubted that she was doing that this time, but somehow imagined that this adventure meant more to her than most.
He started matching Rhaenys' thrusts with his own and focused his attention on Elia's clit. The two women's moans grew louder almost immediately. They rode his cock and face together as they soared towards their peaks. He brought his thumb to his beard, coating the digit with some of the fluids drenching it, and brought it to Elia's puckered arsehole.
"Holy shit!" she cried as he started rubbing her tightest hole. Circling it while he licked her clit quickly proved too much, and the older woman came undone with a strangled cry.
"Daemon!" Rhaenys shrieked as she joined her mother. Elia fell off him to the side, and he brought his hands to his wife's breasts, kneading the supple mounds as he fucked her through her orgasm.
When she finally slowed, Daemon pulled her off of him and stood up. Rhaenys quickly joined him and moved to take his cock in her mouth when he noticed Elia looking at them and beckoned her over.
"On either side now," he said. "I want to fuck you both."
Rhaenys didn't hesitate to kiss the side of his cock and wait for her mother, who shook her head and joined her.
"Oh fuck," Daemon groaned as he started thrusting between their mouths while he held their heads, and they nearly kissed around his cock. Their tongues played with the sides of his cock, and he knew he wouldn't last long. He kept going as long as he could, basking in the taboo thrill, but he was already close. He grabbed Rhaenys' head just as he was about to cum and brought his throbbing cock to her lips.
"Fuck!" he roared as his orgasm hit. Rope after rope of his seed shot into his wife's sinful mouth as she swallowed it all, not spilling a drop.
"Delicious," Rhaenys purred, her purple eyes full of mischief as she stared at him.
"By the gods," he groaned as he fell back onto the bed.
"I'm sorry, Mother," Rhaenys said as she looked away from him, "did you want some?"
Elia just snorted and shook her head. "I'm alright, Rhaenys."
"Maybe next time," Rhaenys said as she rested her head on his chest.
"Next time?" Elia asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"We're willing if you are," his wife replied, "aren't we Daemon?"
"I'd have to be mad to say no," he said. "This was incredible."
"I'll think about it," Elia said as she got up, only to stumble.
"Just join us, Muna," Rhaenys said, patting his chest.
"I don't think that would be a good idea," Elia said, limping over to the table she had placed her clothes on.
"Elia, do you really want to be seen walking bow-legged from the tower of the Hand?" Daemon asked.
"I…" she went to reply, only to stop short. "I suppose you have a point."
Elia threw her things back on the table and crawled into bed, resting her head just across from Rhaenys. He wrapped his arms around them both and pressed his lips to the top of his wife's head. He had known long before they were wed that life with Rhaenys would be fun, and while he might not have ever envisioned this particular scenario, he couldn't say that it was entirely shocking. As he lay there, cuddling with his wife and goodmother, he tried to think of something nice that he could do for her in return.