Standing in the courtyard outside the Red Keep, surrounded by their queen's most loyal men, Rhaena heard Baela let out a shuddering breath as they watched the display before them together and looked over at her sympathetically. Though her face was blank, she was quivering with the rage that shone in her violet eyes. The city was theirs, the war all but over, and the usurper was in chains, just about to meet his fate. It should have been a moment of triumph, a moment of victory, but then, Jace should have been with them.
"Syrax will end him too quickly," Baela hissed, hot tears threatening to fill her eyes. "It should be Moondancer that does it. She'd take her time."
"Baela, you're going to get to watch him die," Jon murmured, running his fingers through her long silver-gold hair, comfortingly. "Try to take comfort in that."
"It won't bring Jacaerys back," Baela spat.
"I'm sorry," Jon croaked, his throat growing tight.
"Don't," Baela sighed, looking up at him. "You of all people have no reason to apologize. You avenged him and poor little Joff."
"It wasn't enough," Jon hissed, only to go silent when he caught their father's eye and saw the warning look he was giving them.
He looked old for the first time that Jon could recall, though in truth he just looked tired and thin. They all did after the past few weeks. The decision to hold off on taking the capital after he killed Aemond, fearing what an uncontrolled, undoubtedly angry Vhagar could do to the densely populated city if the battle got her blood up, had seemed good. There was every possibility that the Greens would see sense and sue for peace once it was clear that they were doomed, as they unquestionably were without the use of the largest living dragon. Unfortunately for them, they had vastly overestimated the intelligence and sanity of their enemies, and it had cost them dearly.
"Aegon Targaryen, you are guilty of treason and murder," Rhaenyra practically growled, glaring down at her half-brother, "and you are hereby sentenced to death for your crimes. If you have any last words, speak them now."
"Rhaenyra, I…" Aegon quavered, his eyes wide with fear as Syrax growled at him. "P...please; Father wouldn't want…"
"You dare invoke our father!?" Rhaenyra exclaimed, "The man you allowed to rot for days after he died and still have denied him a proper Valyrian funeral?!"
"He wouldn't have wanted this!" Aegon exclaimed, struggling against the chains that bound him on his knees.
"No, he wouldn't have," Rhaenyra agreed. "He wouldn't have wanted to see his grandsons, who he loved so dearly, murdered by his traitorous sons. He wouldn't have wanted to see our family tear itself apart, and yet, his will was denied entirely."
"Viserys told everyone who asked, again and again, for more than twenty years, who he wanted to succeed him," Daemon added. "It wasn't me, it wasn't you, or any of Alicent's other whelps; it was Rhaenyra. She was his choice, as our father was Jaehaerys' and had you listened to him, this would not be the last day of your life."
"You've said your piece, and now I'll say mine," Rhaenyra snarled, turning to Syrax. "Dracarys!"
"No!" Aegon screamed as Syrax' yellow flames consumed him.
Baela was right; for, owing to how large and powerful Syrax was, it was over quickly. Jon let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as the final green prince died. With Helaena and her children in their custody, the war was effectively over, and he expected the rebel lords to surrender swiftly, lest they suffer the same fate as the Hightower army he'd laid waste to the day before. Taking Rhaena's hand, he wrapped an arm around Baela's waist and led his sisters towards their father and the queen.
"It's done," Rhaenyra muttered, her face stony but her eyes showing pain.
"Not yet it isn't," Daemon disagreed quietly. "Helaena yet lives, as do her bitch mother and that cunt Otto."
"Otto will die tomorrow," Rhaenyra declared, "as will the rest of the traitors on the small council, save for Tyland Lannister. We need to know what they did with the treasury. I am not killing Helaena, though. Unlike the others, she did not take up arms against me or fly her dragon into battle against our forces. Jon, I take it Daeron is dead, yes?"
"Vermithor made short work of the entire Hightower army," Jon replied. "I must have slain Daeron on my first pass through as Tessarion fled at the sight of us, and I cannot imagine a dragon doing so if their rider was still alive and in danger."
"A rogue dragon," Rhaenyra mused. "Considering which kingdom she's in, I cannot bring myself to care all that much."
"Whether you like it or not, little dragon, your sister and her spawn remain threats to you and our children," Daemon chided her.
"I am not him!" Rhaenyra hissed, pointing at the charred remains of her half-brother. "I will not stoop that low. The twins and Maelor will be raised under close watch, and I will decide what is to become of them in time, but I will not…"
Her lips quivered then, and Daemon pulled her into a tight hug to comfort her as well as to limit how much the men saw her distress. Jon gazed at the still-beautiful older woman with nothing but sympathy. She had lost four children in the past few moons, as well as her father, and had been forced to put her half-brothers down like rabid dogs. He knew she cared naught for them, but she loved the late king well and would have been highly reluctant to go this far if they hadn't come after her family first.
"I agree with Father," Baela muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Jon and Rhaena to hear her. "Helaena and the others remain threats."
"The children can be funneled into the faith, made to take vows, and kept safe that way," Jon whispered, "and as for Helaena, she's harmless, and she's suffered enough."
"Yeah, can you imagine being wed to Aegon?" Rhaena asked, shuddering. "He must have been tiny."
When that failed to make Baela so much as smile, Rhaena sighed and looked away. Her sister had vacillated between murderous rage and despair ever since Jacaerys died, and she had no idea how to even begin helping her. She could sympathize well, having gone through the same thing when Lucerys died, but while she found a way to move on by reaching out to their brother, they didn't exactly have another one for Baela.
"If only Jon had a twin," she thought to herself, feeling her core clench at the thought of there being two of him.
"Come," Daemon said. "Our men have finished clearing out the Red Keep, and they'll have cleaned up enough for us to get settled. We should hold off a little before bringing Aegon and Viserys here."
"Yes," Rhaenyra agreed. "As desperately as I want my darling boys with me, I won't have them brought here until we've cleaned up this city."
"I've done it before," Daemon murmured, a faint smile forming on his face.
"What in the seven hells?" one of the guards asked Ser Erryk as Jon happened to pass by the Queensguard.
"I beg your pardon?" Ser Erryk asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"How did you get here?" the guard asked. "I just passed you in the hallway."
"What?" Jon asked, tensing immediately as his mind went to the worst possible scenario.
"Did you see me specifically or just someone wearing this cloak?" Ser Erryk asked, seeming to come to the same conclusion.
"It was you, plain as day," the guard replied. "You were leading that stumbling drunkard down the way and asked where her grace had gone. I figured you had had a few too and reminded you that she and the prince consort had flown out to crush the rebel forces in the Riverlands."
"Arryk!" Jon hissed, drawing his sword and looking to the guard. "Call the others!"
Ser Erryk didn't say a word, simply drawing his own weapon even more quickly and barreling past him. As Jon ran after the knight, he heard Jacaerys scream, "NO!"
The two of them ran through the narrow, winding hallways of Dragonstone, trying to reach the sound of the scream and the battle that seemed to follow it. Servants rushed past them, screaming for help, and as they turned to enter the kitchens, they saw why. Ser Arryk and Ser Criston had snuck into the castle, using the traitor twin's face to do it, and had already drawn blood. The body of a young boy lay broken by the stove, his face a mangled, unrecognizable mess, though from his clothes alone, Jon could tell that it was Joffrey and felt his stomach lurch.
"I'll kill you!" Jacaerys screamed, his blade in hand, swinging wildly in a rage at the two murderers.
Jon knew that the prince was no match for either of the men casually dodging his attacks, much less both of them, and quickly picked up a long knife that one of the servants had left on a nearby table. Ser Arryk was in his armor, having posed as his brother to gain access to the keep, but Cole had opted for something less conspicuous. Carefully grabbing the knife by its blade, Jon hurled it at the man who had dared to crown the usurper and felt satisfaction as it pierced his gambeson and lodged itself in his right arm.
That satisfaction turned to horror a moment later as, taking advantage of his foe's distraction, Ser Arryk stabbed at his unarmored chest, piercing him between his ribs. Ser Erryk roared and closed the distance between him and his brother as Jon engaged the man's commander, who glared at him as he pulled the knife out and tossed it aside. He swung the spiked ball of his morningstar around slowly, and Jon tightened his grip on his bastard sword as he saw the viscera staining it.
"Once proud knights of the Kingsguard reduced to assassins of children," he spat. "How low you've brought your order, Cole."
"Twas the Whore of Dragonstone we sought," Cole replied coldly, "or failing that, Prince Aemond's murderer. Had we found you first, they would have lived."
"You're going to die screaming for this, Cole," Jon swore, "as will that treasonous pig you placed the conqueror's crown on."
"The treason was that whore's," Cole spat, "and the only assassin here is you."
He swung the morningstar upward, and Jon dodged to the side just as Ser Erryk managed to cut off his brother's sword arm with a powerful upward swing. He felt hope soar within him at the thought of being able to take on the most dangerous member of the usurper's kingsguard with a sudden advantage, but that was swiftly dashed as Ser Arryk, with his remaining arm, drove a dagger into his brother's belly, dragging him down with him.
Jon feinted towards Ser Criston's middle and swung high, nearly slicing off his ear as he forced the man back. He had no shield, and though the kitchen was large, it was not uncrowded, and he knew that maneuvering around would be difficult. The treasonous dog's reputation as a warrior was not unearned, and even with him wounded, Jon quickly found himself on the defensive, forced to dodge a flurry of blows as he was driven further and further back. The treasonous knight's skill with his morningstar was unparalleled, and a single strike would probably be the end of the fight.
"It's not so easy when you have to actually fight someone instead of stabbing them in the back, is it?" Cole spat, visibly enraged.
"I didn't stab the one-eyed cunt in the back, Cole," Jon chuckled, spotting a potential advantage out of the corner of his eye. "I stabbed him in the throat."
Cole swung high, and Jon ducked under the blow before driving his shoulder into his chest. The older knight stumbled backward under the force of the blow, nearly tripping over Joffrey's body, but he managed to right himself in time to block Jon's follow-up swing with his shield. Jon stepped back, turning around so his back was to the row of hooks from which hung a number of heavy pots.
Cole pressed the attack, swinging his morningstar around a few times before launching the heavy ball at Jon's head. He dodged to the side and stepped back, feinting towards Cole's groin and taking a further step back. The traitor's next swing was towards Jon's chest and would have caved in his ribs had it struck true. Dodging to the side, Jon smirked as the heavy metal ball crashed into the hanging pots. As he'd hoped it would, it snagged on one of the hooks, and just as more guards arrived on the scene, he sliced Cole's hand clean off. The man screamed in pain, and Jon smashed his fist into his face, knocking him back.
Jon awoke with a gasp and sat up, his heart hammering in his chest. His surroundings were unfamiliar, and, as rattled as he was by the dream, it took him a moment to realize that he wasn't in danger.
"Fuck," he grumbled to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Hardly a night had gone by since that terrible day when he failed to dream of it. Jacaerys and Joffrey lost in one blow from their bitter enemy. Cole's death had lasted days, but none of his agonized screams as he was broken and dismembered piece by piece could undo what he'd done. Jacaerys, as the Prince of Dragonstone, had been left in charge in his mother's absence, but Jon was the eldest and most capable of them, and he blamed himself for not preventing what had happened. When the queen charged him with wiping out the Reach's forces atop Vermithor, whom he'd recently bonded with, he didn't hesitate, eager to redeem himself in his own eyes, and horrors unseen since the field of fire were all he left in his wake.
"Jon?" Rhaena whispered, pushing the hidden door to his right open. "Are you awake?"
"Why am I not surprised you already found that?" Jon chuckled, her beautiful face helping to cheer him up a little.
"You know how resourceful I can be when I want something," Rhaena grinned, walking inside and closing the door behind her.
"Won't Morning miss you?" Jon asked, referring to her newly hatched dragon.
"She's sleeping," Rhaena murmured, "and I wouldn't want her seeing this anyway."
She walked up to him and pulled the blanket down, unveiling his nude form inch by inch to her feasting eyes. Seeing the sheer desire in those purple orbs through the pale moonlight made Jon's cock spring to life rapidly, and it rose high into the air the moment it was freed.
"Fucking hells," Jon groaned as she wrapped her soft, small hand around his girth.
"Gods, I still can't believe I can take this thing," Rhaena shuddered, wrapping her other hand around it and stroking him slowly as she started peppering the bulbous head with wet, warm kisses.
Jon's fingers snaked into her long, silver-gold hair, and he moaned her name when she took him between her pouty lips and started bobbing her head up and down on him. It would be a while yet until they were wed, and he knew that he should have held off from continuing to bed her after the first time, but she'd proven herself to be such a sensual, ravenous creature that he couldn't help himself. As they began what would end up being yet another long night, he eagerly lost himself in the pleasure, letting it drive his troubles away, at least for a while.
"Between the cunts I still have to kill, the metaphorical fires I have to put out, the very real fires I have to put out, and the cunts I still have to kill, I truly can't tell you how little time or inclination I have to care about the succession of Driftmark," Daemon drawled, earning a scowl from Corlys.
"I'm not getting any younger, Daemon," Corlys coughed, "and though I'm still clinging to life, I doubt I will for many more years. My heir…"
"Is Baela," Daemon muttered. "With...the losses we've suffered, she, as Laena's eldest child, is next in line. You don't need to worry about any of that fool Vaemond's kin ending up inheriting what is hers, I assure you."
"I know," Corlys sighed, "but I would still feel better if I knew she were wedding someone I could trust."
"Her children will be called Velaryons no matter who fathers them," Daemon said, "just as Jacaerys would have reigned as a Targaryen."
Corlys looked down at the mention of the late boy he'd called his grandson and drank deeply from his goblet, allowing the wine to warm him and dull the pain.
"I have...an idea for her potential husband," he murmured.
"Oh?" Daemon asked.
"Laenor...before he died, fathered a pair of boys on a shipwright's daughter," Corlys began, and Daemon burst out laughing.
"I wouldn't try selling that to my cousin unless you dearly want to find out what the inside of Meleys' stomach looks like," the prince consort chuckled.
"Rhaenys knows and has met them," Corlys replied gruffly, "and I would thank you to keep your implications quiet."
"She actually...wow," Daemon marveled. "I don't know if I'm more impressed by you or disappointed in her. Regardless, I'm not wedding my daughter to one of 'Laenor's' bastards unless I have no other choice."
"If they were legitimized, then whichever one she picked would guarantee that control of the island and what remains of my fortune remained in the family," Corlys argued.
"Rhaenys just met them, and I can't imagine that you've spent much time with them," Daemon pointed out. "I will wed my daughter only to a man I can feel reasonably certain won't try to rule through her. Moondancer ought to help with that, but still."
"Grandfather," Rhaena beamed, letting herself in as a couple of guards approached, and she nearly got caught listening in on their conversation. "I didn't know you'd arrived."
"Your grandmother and I came by this morning, Rhaena," Corlys smiled. "Anyway, Daemon, I trust we can continue this conversation later."
"I am rather busy these days, but if I can find a moment, I'll have word sent to you," Daemon replied.
"Would you like to go into the city with me?" Corlys asked, looking at Rhaena.
"Not just now," Rhaena replied. "I wanted to speak with my father."
"Very well," Corlys nodded. "Do you know where your sister is?"
"In her chambers," Rhaena replied, her eyes dimming.
"Right," Corlys sighed. "I'll speak with you later."
Rhaena nodded and closed the door behind her grandfather as soon as he was out.
"How much did you hear?" Daemon asked.
"Enough," Rhaena replied. "Sorry, but I grew curious when I overheard his voice. You're not really going to try to get the poor queen to legitimize those bastards, are you?"
"Are you seriously taking a stand against bastardy?" Daemon asked incredulously.
"No," Rhaena replied, flushing as she realized that he was referring to Jon, "but she's been through so much of late. To learn, on top of all of that, that her husband dishonored her...I could not be so cruel."
For some reason her father looked deeply amused by that for a moment before forcing his face to go blank.
"Nyra's stronger than you think, but I have no desire to have these Velaryon bastards legitimized," Daemon muttered. "I hate that I even have to think just yet about wedding Baela off to anyone. I would have waited a few years yet to consider that for either of you if you hadn't practically begged me to 'give you Jon.'"
"I didn't beg," Rhaena huffed, blushing further at the memory, and her father grinned.
"It was a tone of voice I hadn't heard from you since you were a girl and just had to have what little trinket or bobble caught your eye in the market," Daemon teased. "Had it been your sister who took such a liking to him, this would be easier."
"You'd wed her to Jon?" Rhaena asked.
"You needn't worry, Rhaena," Daemon chuckled before growing more serious. "Entrusting one's daughter to another is a...difficult thing for all fathers. Things are easier in our family since a man generally knows the one they're giving their daughter to very well, often having raised them. Jon's a good man, one I can actually trust, and there are all too few men out there I can say that about."
"If only we had two of him," Rhaena blurted out, blushing again as she realized she'd spoken aloud.
"That would make things easier," Daemon mused, taking a sip of his wine as Rhaena was hit by a sudden idea that she couldn't help but give voice to.
"We don't actually need two of him, though," she said. "He wouldn't be the first Targaryen to take more than one woman to wife."
Daemon spit the wine out in shock, thankfully looking away from her as he did so. "What?"
"I know no one has since Maegor, but…" Rhaena went to justify.
"Are you seriously proposing this?" Daemon asked.
"It's not like we haven't shared things all our lives," Rhaena shrugged. "Hell, when we were girls, she let me spend far more time with Moondancer than any other Targaryen would let another person near their dragon…"
"Dragons and men differ ever so slightly, daughter," Daemon drawled. "Even if Baela were willing to go along with this, you might end up regretting it down the line."
"I doubt it," Rhaena shrugged, "and as for Baela...she'd be willing, trust me there."
Daemon tapped his fingers on his desk, taking another sip of wine, which she made sure to stay silent during.
"I want you to think things through carefully, Rhaena," he murmured after a moment. "If the both of you want this and think that you could accept all that it would entail, then I'll allow it. It would actually spare me a couple of headaches, now that I think about it, but I wouldn't want you two to end up at each other's throats down the line over petty jealousy."
"I notice you didn't bring up whether or not Jon would want this," Rhaena grinned.
"Your father might not be a young man anymore, Rhaena, but I am still a man," Daemon replied. "I don't need to wonder what Jon would think of this."
Rhaena nodded and left, making her way towards Baela's chambers. Normally, as a member of the royal family, she would have been followed by a member of the Queensguard, but they were all busy just then, and the keep was full of guards as they worked to reestablish order, so she was still quite safe. She reached Baela's chambers quickly enough and knocked on the door loudly.
"Go away," Baela hissed.
"Baela, it's me," Rhaena replied. "I need to speak with you about something."
Baela was silent for a moment, pondering whether or not to tell Rhaena to bugger off; she was sure, but she clearly decided against it and opened her door. She looked tired, and Rhaena didn't hesitate to pull her in to a tight hug. She bristled for a moment before sighing and returning it.
"Come in," Baela sighed.
"How are you?" Rhaena asked as she followed her in, closing the door behind her.
Baela was wearing her black and red riding leathers, and her hair, cut a good foot shorter than Rhaena's own, looked windswept. Riding Moondancer might have explained her being tired, but the withdrawn look in her eyes spoke of something else.
"The same as when you last asked," Baela grumbled. "I had my entire future figured out a moon ago, and now everything is uncertain. You can understand that well."
"I can," Rhaena murmured.
Baela turned around only to wince and grab her chest, saying, "Damn it. Could you help me out of my riding leathers? I'm going to have to have new ones made."
"Too tight?" Rhaena asked, moving to help her.
"Of bloody course," Baela hissed. "These damn things keep growing."
"That isn't without its upsides, I assure you," Rhaena chuckled.
"Right," Baela scoffed, throwing the tunic on the ground and glaring at it. "With my luck, I'll end up with tits like the queen's. I can't imagine her back doesn't ache constantly."
"Mother was slenderer than that," Rhaena assured her, brushing her hair with her fingers, "as is Grandmother. We'll be a little larger than we are now in time, but probably not much."
"Will you stop trying to make me feel better!" Baela exclaimed. "You've been treating me like I'm made of glass ever since Jace died and it is driving me mad!"
"I can't just tell you to stop being a moody bitch like I normally would," Rhaena muttered. "Like you said, I understand what you're going through."
"I hate this," Baela whispered. "I hate feeling angry all the time, but I also feel like if I let it go, I'd completely fall apart."
"I'm here for you, Baela," Rhaena whispered, hugging her again.
"That's less than pleasant without clothes," Baela winced, pulling back.
"Oh, right," Rhaena grimaced, looking down.
Her purple gown had little amethysts sewn into the bodice.
"Help me into a gown?" Baela asked. "I don't feel like calling for the servants."
"How about instead we sit down and I can draw shapes on your back like I used to when we were younger?" Rhaena suggested.
"That...actually sounds nice," Baela admitted, sitting down on her bed.
Rhaena brushed her hair over one shoulder and started gently snaking a finger around the smooth, pale expanse of her sister's skin. Baela's breath hitched, and she shivered, feeling tingles run down her spine.
"Gods, why did we ever stop doing this?" she asked.
"I think we agreed it was too childish," Rhaena replied.
"Well, I could use some childishness right now," Baela murmured. "I wish I could go back."
"Things were simpler," Rhaena whispered, switching to drawing basic shapes on Baela's back instead. "Uncle Viserys seemed sick for so long, but at the same time, it seemed like he'd just hold on forever."
"I wonder if he regretted it in the end," Baela muttered. "He sowed the seeds of so much destruction when he chose to wed and breed that Hightower cunt."
"Even Father seemed taken aback by how brazenly they rebelled," Rhaena commented, frowning as she felt Baela tense under her touch, "and he hated them more than anyone."
"He should have been as awful as that wretch, Otto thought he was," Baela growled. "He should have deposed our uncle, taken both mother and Rhaenyra to wife and burned anyone who opposed him. At least then we'd have been safe."
"Hey," Rhaena said gently, running her nails over her scalp. "I know it hurts, and we're all grieving, but you'll only hurt yourself if you let this consume you."
"I don't care!" Baela cried, whipping around and glaring at her with misty eyes. "Jace was so good and kind, and I...I was to be his wife, his queen someday, and I wanted him. In time, I know I would have loved him, and now what do I have? I'm to be Lady of Driftmark, a role that would have been yours if not for the Hightower princes, and I…"
"I miss them too," Rhaena whispered, brushing the backs of her fingers over Baela's cheek. "Jace, Luke, and poor little Joff. Part of me still can't believe that they're gone."
"They were part of our lives for as long as I can remember," Baela whimpered.
"We won't forget them," Rhaena promised, "and we won't stop loving them, but neither Jace nor Luke would have wanted us to be destroyed by their losses."
"Fucking our brother's made you surprisingly wise," Baela snarked, and Rhaena blushed.
"I love him," Rhaena whispered. "I mean, I've always loved him, but…"
"At least one of us gets to be happy," Baela sighed. "The gods know what manner of creature I'll end up shackled to."
"You know that Father wouldn't give you away to just anyone," Rhaena murmured.
"Driftmark will be mine when Grandfather passes, and as much as I don't want to even think about it, he's looking really old," Baela sighed. "I'll need to wed and have children. Though, I suppose if I didn't, you and Jon will probably have a whole brood, so it could go to your eldest after me."
"Baela...if you could, would you wed Jon?" Rhaena asked, bracing herself for her sister's reaction.
"Why...why would you ask me that?" Baela stuttered, her eyes narrowing. "You know I've always thought he was gorgeous. I'd honestly be angry with you if I didn't really understand the impulse to turn to him as you did after Luke died."
"If Luke and Jace had lived, I would have been the Lady of Driftmark, as you said," Rhaena replied. "The queen promised Jon a keep of his own, and a few will very likely be emptied soon as she and Father finish off the rebels. Hells, the Hightower might end up free soon enough, but I would prefer to stay closer to home if possible."
"Could you get to the point?" Baela asked testily.
"What if we could...share Jon?" Rhaena murmured, looking away.
"What?" Baela asked, her eyes going wide.
"What if we both wed him?" Rhaena asked. "We could live in High Tide together, help you rule the island, and your eldest son or daughter can wed my eldest son or daughter down the line and succeed you."
"What?" Baela asked again.
"We've shared plenty in the past," Rhaena shrugged.
"Sharing clothes or letting you play with Moondancer doesn't really compare to sharing a husband," Baela said.
"Oh, there's more than enough of him to share," Rhaena grinned. "Trust me there."
"You...you actually..." Baela spluttered. "Father would never…"
"Father said it was fine if we both agreed," Rhaena cut her off. When Baela's eyes widened again, she added, "I wouldn't suggest something like this if I didn't think we'd be allowed to."
"You're serious?" Baela asked.
"He asked me the same thing," Rhaena chuckled.
"Why?" Baela asked. "He's your betrothed; he will be your husband likely within the year. Why share him at all?"
"If this were anyone else, I'd not be willing at all," Rhaena replied, "but you're not just anyone. We've been together all our lives; we shared a womb. You're my sister, my twin, and my dearest friend. I love you, Baela, and I love Jon, and I think the three of us could be very happy together."
"I don't know what to say," Baela laughed humorlessly. "You mentioned speaking to Father about this. Have you mentioned it to Jon?"
"Do you think for a moment that he'd say no?" Rhaena asked incredulously. "I wouldn't want to put the idea in his head only for you to turn it down. What do you think?"
"I think you're mad," Baela chuckled, making her face fall, "and sweet, and...you're really willing to let me have him too?"
"I am," Rhaena smiled. "I know he could love us both without ever making the other feel neglected, and I know he's more than enough of a man to keep us both very, very happy."
"He's...I mean you've described a few things, but…" Baela stammered.
"He's incredible," Rhaena gushed, rubbing her thighs together as she recalled the other night. "He's attentive, adventurous, and giving. He absolutely loves licking me down there, which feels better than I could possibly describe, and when he's inside me...you can't understand the kind of fullness until you've felt it for yourself, but I feel terribly empty without him now. If he didn't leave me so sore at times, I'd have him thrice nightly and never tire of it."
"I can't believe Father agreed to this," Baela breathed.
"He likes knowing that he can trust Jon with us," Rhaena shrugged.
"I can't believe I'm considering this," Baela muttered, shaking her head.
"You'd be happy with us; I know you would," Rhaena smiled, cupping her cheek. "As your sister, I want the best for you, and Jon is the best."
"He's the only man you've ever had," Baela pointed out with a smirk.
"And the only one I want," Rhaena said primly. "If you'd had him, you'd know what I mean. In fact, I think you could use a taste."
"What?" Baela asked.
"He's so big!" Viserys cried, not for the first time. "He's even bigger than Caraxes!"
"That he is," Aegon murmured. "Second only to Vhagar, right?"
"That's right," Jon nodded, ruffling his little brothers' hair as he flew them across Blackwater Bay.
His father was still busy but had determined that the last of the usurper's loyalists had been dealt with and so tasked him with retrieving them. He hadn't been flying for long but had gotten more than practice in the short time that he had, and taking a short trip to Dragonstone and back was simple. The sun was setting fast, and he'd heard Viserys yawn more than once. He might have waited until the next morning if it were up to him, but he could understand the queen being desperate to get her only surviving children back close.
The familiar light of the dragonpit came into view before anything else in the city, and he urged Vermithor onward. The bronze fury landed inside the massive dome with practiced ease, and the dragon handlers moved at once to help secure him. Sunfyre snarled, but a quick roar from Silverwing cowed him.
The golden dragon had been bound in the pit when they took his rider by surprise and had been unable to help him. He was furious, but the presence of the larger, more terrifying dragons, like Vermithor, Silverwing, Caraxes, and Dreamfyre, had helped to keep him in line. Dreamfyre in particular had likely been helpful, as the younger dragon would know her better than the others, and her calm demeanor seemed to be much like that of her rider, who had apparently accepted her new conditions without complaint. He liked to credit himself with that, as he imagined that either she, her children, or the lot of them would have fared poorly had he not taken the job of killing Aemond upon himself. He doubted that she'd ever thank him, though.
"Prince Jon," Harrold Darke nodded.
"Ser Harrold," Jon murmured. "Help the princes down."
He helped first Aegon and then Viserys slide down along Vermithor's bronze scales, being caught by the Queensguard. Horses awaited them outside the pit, and in short order they were in the Red Keep, where they were greeted by both the queen and their father. She looked a little less tired than she had when they first arrived in the city, and he imagined that knowing that nearly all of the rebels had surrendered had helped her relax a little. There remained a certain haunted edge to her purple eyes, though, and he hoped that having her remaining sons close by would help.
"Thank you," Rhaenyra nodded at him as she hugged them both to her skirt.
"I'm happy to help," Jon smiled. "Is there anything you need, your Grace?"
"No," Rhaenyra replied. "That will be all."
Daemon nodded in agreement, and Jon left, grabbing what they could give him from the kitchen before settling in for the night. He didn't bother going to sleep, as Rhaena had mentioned that she would be coming by later, and simply stripped naked before lying down on the bed. He hoped that they'd be wed soon, as she cared little for the taste of moon tea and had made it clear that she'd happily do without it entirely as soon as they could. The very thought of seeing his beautiful little sister swell with his child made his blood rush towards his cock, which soon grew hard. When he heard the hidden door Rhaena had found open, he grinned and stood up.
"Word of my arrival spread that qui…" he went to say, only to go still as he realized that his sister wasn't alone.
"By the gods!" Baela exclaimed, her eyes going wide as saucers. "That fits inside you?!"
"Rhaena!" Jon hissed, looking at his lover in shock and annoyance as he tried and failed to cover his cock.
"Oh, don't cover it up, Jon," Rhaena smirked. "She wants to see it."
Without warning, she shoved Baela forward, and the elder of the two twins stumbled towards him. He caught her instinctively, and she trembled in his arms, her eyes finding his as his cock pressed against her belly through the thin white gown she was wearing.
"Baela, I…" Jon went to say, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him.
He returned the kiss without thinking, deepening it and pushing his tongue into her mouth before he could realize what he was doing. He was too used to kissing a girl who looked just like her to respond in any other way, and it wasn't until he cradled her head with one of his large hands and felt her much shorter hair that he thought to pull back.
"Wow, that was just as amazing to watch as I thought," Rhaena breathed, her face flushed and her lips parted as she took in the sight of them.
"Amazing to...did you decide to bring me in just because you wanted to watch me fuck him?" Baela asked, whipping around to glare at her sister.
"Fuck me?" Jon asked, half convinced that he was dreaming.
"Not just for that reason," Rhaena replied. "Everything else I said before was true as well."
"Will one of you explain what the hell this is?" Jon asked.
"You know how I told you Baela wanted you?" Rhaena asked.
"You told him that?" Baela asked, flushing as she realized how stupid that question was in that moment.
"Rhaena, I can't do this," Jon sighed. "The gods know I want to, but father would skin me a…"
"Father said you can wed us both if we both want you," Rhaena interrupted him, and he became certain that he was dreaming.
"It's true," Baela added, turning around to look at him. "I spoke to him as well. If we wed, our eldest child will rule Driftmark as the future Lord Velaryon, while the rest of your children with us will be Targaryen princes and princesses."
"I…" Jon stammered.
"You did say that you liked High Tide," Rhaena pointed out, sounding deeply amused by his confusion.
"Baela, why would you even agree to this?" Jon asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" Rhaena asked, pointing down at his still rock-hard cock.
Jon ignored her, adding, "Wouldn't you rather have a husband of your own?"
"The husband I wanted is dead, and I've always hated the lordling cunts that we had to interact with when we visited King's Landing," Baela replied. "I love you; I always have, and I know you love me. Rhaena's been...very descriptive of what being with you is like, and after hearing all that, I'm more than happy to share with her."
"You have been a very bad girl," Jon rumbled, looking at Rhaena, who shivered and grinned.
"I'm sure we can show Baela what you do to bad girls later, Lekia," Rhaena purred. "First, though, I can think of a few other things we could show her."
She moved close to Baela, clothed in a gown just like hers, thin and white, and pulled her twin's gown over her shoulder, letting it pool by her feet and making her squeak. She was gorgeous, and though, as Rhaena's true twin, she was virtually identical, there were subtle differences that he noticed more than he ever had with her completely nude. Her belly was flatter than Rhaena's, and her legs more toned, a result of how much more active she was. Her skin was slightly more tanned too, as she spent so much time riding, whereas her twin had only just bonded with her new hatchling. There were certain similarities, that drew his eye as well; her breasts were identical to her sister's: perfect, firm, and perky handfuls, and her cunt was shielded by a sparse thatch of silver-gold curls.
"Perfect," he breathed, and though she'd looked ready to whip around and scream at her sister, she went still, and her breath hitched.
"Really?" Baela squeaked, and he grinned.
"Absolutely perfect," Jon replied, placing a hand on the small of her back and pulling her in for a searing, hot kiss.
His hand drifted lower as he wrapped the other one around the back of her neck, and he groaned in her mouth as he felt her firm, round arse. She moaned into his mouth, reaching down between them to brush her hand against his cock and pulling back as though burned when she felt it twitch. He took her hand in his and gently returned it to his throbbing length, breaking the kiss and grinning down at her when she started stroking him lightly.
"My fingers don't even touch," Baela gasped, looking down at his cock in wonder. "This can actually fit inside me?"
"We're the same, Baela," Rhaena purred as she pushed her own gown off and let it fall to her feet. Pressing her bare breasts against her sister's back, she reached around and grabbed Jon's cock with her, saying, "If I can take every thick inch of him, I know you can too."
"Tell me, did you two ever practice kissing together?" Jon asked, unable to help voicing the question as he saw them together so intimately.
"I swear you just got bigger," Baela muttered.
"I felt him swell too," Rhaena grinned. "Does that image make you hard, Jon? Do you want to see your innocent little maiden sisters kiss each other before you?"
"You're hardly a maiden anymore," Baela scoffed.
"No, I'm not," Rhaena sighed, "and before the night's done, you won't be either. Now how about we give our loving Lekia what he wants?"
"I mean, it's not like we didn't try it out without each other just to see what it was like," Baela smirked, wrapping her arms around Rhaena's neck.
"Gods," Jon groaned, the two twins pressed their lips together.
Ever since Rhaena first told him that Baela wanted him too, he'd fantasized about taking the pair of them together. How could he not, when they were so utterly beautiful? His fantasies had been fueled by experiences he'd had with whores, who were always more than willing to take a man together if he had the coin. The image of taking Rhaena from behind while she slurped his seed out of Baela's cunt had popped into his head more than once in the weeks since he'd first had her, though he'd never imagined for a moment that he might actually get to live out such a fantasy. As Rhaena deepened the kiss, though, pushing her tongue between her twin's lips and making her moan, he wondered if he just might.
He pressed his lips against Baela's throat, peppering the slender column with hot kisses, and reached around to cup and knead her perky breasts. She broke the kiss to cry out at the unfamiliar pleasure, and Rhaena started nibbling on her earlobe.
"Rhae?" Baela asked, her breath hitching as Jon massaged her aching hard nipples.
"Can you really say you've never thought about it?" Rhaena asked. "We're identical, after all, and going to share our future husband. We could have even more fun than we will otherwise if we enjoyed each other too."
"I suppose it would be sort of like pleasuring myself," Baela murmured.
"Is that something you do often, Haedar?" Jon asked, his voice low and rumbling.
"As I lay in bed at night," Baela admitted.
"Your fingers can't compare to Jon's cock, or his tongue," Rhaena purred. "I've told her all about how good you are at licking me, Jon. She's probably touched herself at night picturing your handsome face between her thighs."
Baela squeaked, her face growing red as the heat building in her core intensified. "Is it true, Jon? Do you actually like doing...that?"
She cried out as he brushed a finger between her damp folds, bracing herself on his shoulders for support, and her eyes went wide when she brought that finger to his lips, licking it clean.
"You taste good," Jon grinned, "just like our sister."
"Lie on the bed, Baela," Rhaena said. "His cock is very, very big, and he's going to need to get you as wet as possible first to fit it inside you."
Baela nodded and scrambled over to his bed. She was shaking both from nervousness and from need by the time she settled down, and she let out a shuddering breath when she felt Jon take one of her small feet in his hands. He pressed his lips to her ankle and kissed a trail up along her leg. Every kiss felt like fire, the heat between her legs growing greater than she'd ever felt it. She knew that her little pearl had to be hard and engorged just then and had to actively resist the urge to rub it like she normally would have. Everything Rhaena had told her suggested that what he was about to do would feel so much better, and she was more than willing to take her sister at her word.
By the time he reached her inner thigh, she could feel her cunt quivering, clenching around nothing as if it instinctively sought to be filled. She'd be filled to the brim soon enough, she knew, and that thought was as exhilarating as it was intimidating. When he reached her mound, he nuzzled his nose against her soft curls, drawing a loud moan from her lips that made her face redden, and then parted them with his hands. She'd have felt embarrassed seeing him stare down at her fleshy nether lips like that if she could feel anything other than desperate need just then.
"Normally you start over on the other leg with me," Rhaena huffed.
"You just sound so delightfully desperate when I tease you," Jon chuckled. "This is Baela's first time, though, and I don't want to overwhelm her too much."
"Thank...gods!" Baela screamed as she felt him brush the flat of his tongue across her entire cunt.
It was so much better than her own fingers ever had been, and she immediately grabbed his head, snaking her fingers into his brown locks and holding him against her sensitive flesh. He chuckled, his purple eyes alight with amusement as he looked up at her but said nothing as he started lapping at her. He bathed her pink folds with his long, dexterous tongue, exploring every little bit of her heated sex, save for her clit. It all felt so good that she didn't even think to complain about that.
"Oh gods, that feels so fucking good," Baela warbled.
"Better than flying?" Rhaena asked with a knowing grin.
"Better than...ahhh...anything!" Baela cried as Jon stuck his tongue inside her.
She was wetter than she could ever remember being and was sure that her fluids were running down his chin, soaking his beard, but he didn't seem to mind in the slightest. In truth, like Rhaena had said, he seemed to relish devouring her as he was. She felt climax approaching and was about to reach down and try to stroke her clit when Jon swirled his tongue around the taut nub.
"Yes!" Baela moaned. "Oh gods, right there, right there!"
"Finger her, Jon," Rhaena breathed, watching the show with rapt attention as she rubbed her clit with light little circles. "I want to see if she can gush like I do."
Jon snorted at his sister giving him sexual advice, but he was just about to do as she said anyway and pushed a couple of his thick fingers inside Baela, groaning as he felt how incredibly tight she was too. There were subtle differences between the twins, but it seemed their cunts were equally heavenly.
"Fuck!" Baela cried, reaching behind her and clawing at the bedding as she felt herself stretched wider than she ever had been in her life.
His fingers were so much bigger than hers, but she was dripping wet, and they slid inside with almost embarrassing ease. He curled them upward, and as much as she was too enthralled by pleasure to question what he was doing, she did wonder for a moment. Then she felt him brush against something inside her that made her see colors, and all possible questions fled her mind.
"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop!" Baela babbled, feeling like she was going to lose her mind as the pleasure grew more intense than she ever imagined possible. When Jon stopped teasing her clit his tongue, she nearly pulled him back towards it, but a second later, he wrapped his lips around her little pearl and sucked gently on it. "JON!"
Her back arched, her ass rising off the bed entirely as her orgasm hit her hard, making her vision go white. Wave after wave of ecstasy coursed through her entire body, and she felt wetness gush from her cunt. She writhed and convulsed as it continued to thunder through her, and she vaguely heard the sound of female laughter in the distance that she thought might have come from Rhaena. It went on and on, seemingly without end, and then tapered off, leaving her twitching and panting for air as she lay down on her back.
"I'd say that answers that," Rhaena grinned as Jon stood up, his beard dripping wet.
She licked some of her sister's fluids from his face, finding that she didn't mind the taste at all, and kissed him deeply. Jon returned the kiss eagerly, and she wrapped her hand around his cock, shuddering as she felt how hard he was. She broke the kiss and sank to her knees, giving his thick length a long, slow lick from base to tip.
"Holy...fuck," Baela panted, sitting up. She could still feel her body twitching at random from the aftermath of what was easily the greatest orgasm of her life, and she was about to ask Rhaena if it was always like that when she saw what her sister was doing.
"Gods, you're getting so fucking good at that," Jon groaned, holding onto their sister's head as she bobbed her head up and down on his length.
Baela watched the display with wide eyes, unable to believe that her sister was even doing that. They had overheard men talking of sex when they thought no one else was around before and knew that there were some things that they said only whores did. Sucking cock certainly seemed to be one of them, and she never would have imagined doing so herself, but she had to admit that seeing Jon's face scrunch up in pleasure and hearing his deep, masculine groans held undeniable appeal. It certainly seemed to be a messy thing, though, as Rhaena seemed to be trying her best to get his length as coated in saliva as possible, something that she realized a second later she was likely doing purposefully.
"There," Rhaena gasped, wiping her mouth. "With you both that slick, it shouldn't be too difficult."
"How do I…" Baela went to ask.
"Just lie on your back," Rhaena replied. "It's how I was the first time."
"Are you sure of this, Baela?" Jon asked, walking towards her. His heavy, spit-covered cock bobbed with his every move, and she watched it intently, as though hypnotized. "Baela?"
"Huh?" Baela asked.
"Are you sure you want this?" Jon repeated.
"Yes," Baela breathed, nodding. "Gods, yes."
"There are plenty of differences between us, but we have more than a few things in common too," Rhaena grinned, climbing onto the bed and placing her hands on her twin's shoulders. "I suspect adoring your cock is going to be one of them."
She pulled Baela back and kissed her gently as she spread her legs. Baela reached for her hand, and Rhaena took it happily, feeling like her heart might burst, she was so happy. She doubted that Rhaenys and Visenya were ever like this with the conqueror, and strongly doubted that any of Maegor's poor wives had ever found joy with each other and their shared husband, but all she knew was that in that moment, she wanted to witness this more than anything.
"Do it, Lekia," Baela whispered, looking up at Jon. "Make me yours."
Jon placed his hands on her thighs, feeling the soft skin as he spread her legs wider. Baela gasped when she saw him move closer, and her eyes went wide when he placed his heavy length against her flat belly, showing just how deeply he was going to penetrate her.
"Do you need a demonstration first?" Rhaena asked teasingly.
"No," Baela replied immediately. "If you can do it, then I certainly can."
"That's the spirit," Rhaena chuckled. "Fuck her, Jon. Ruin her for all others and make her ours forever."
"Gods," Jon groaned, wondering not for the first time just how he'd gotten so lucky.
He fisted his cock and brushed her folds with his bulbous head, noting mentally just how much larger he was than her. He'd noted the same with Rhaena, and he knew that she'd taken him well, but it was still incredible to him. Lining himself up, he knew that he would need a little extra pressure to break through her maidenhead and pushed forwards sharply, only to find himself sinking four inches deep unobstructed.
"Holy fuck!" Baela screamed, her mind going blank for a moment as she was stretched wider than she thought possible.
"Fucking hells, did you not have a…" Jon went to ask, going still and marveling at how incredibly tight she felt around him.
"It broke when I was a girl," Baela replied through gritted teeth. "I was riding a horse, and a particular bounce hurt terribly. I was frantic until Grandmother explained it away. Did you not wonder why you didn't feel it earlier?"
He was embarrassed by the fact that he hadn't and looked at her sheepishly as Rhaena giggled.
"Fuck, you're big," Baela shuddered. "It burns."
"That's just you feeling the stretch," Rhaena assured her, running her fingers through her hair. "The burning will pass soon. It feels good too, right?"
"Yes," Baela breathed.
"Take all the time you need," Jon murmured, caressing her cheek. "I'll hold still while you relax."
"Relaxing would be easier if I wasn't trying to fuck a horse," Baela muttered, making Rhaena snort.
Hoping to distract her, Jon leaned down and captured one of her pebbled pink nipples with his lips, making her gasp. He grazed the hard nub with his teeth, drawing a throaty moan from his sister, and soothed it with his tongue. Rhaena realized what he was trying to do and moved down to suck on the other one.
"Oh gods!" Baela cried, grasping both of their heads and holding them to her chest. "That feels so good."
Jon waited a couple more minutes, more than happy to simply enjoy the tight, wet heat of her sweltering tunnel, and when he felt her relax a little around him, he kissed her, brushing her hair behind her ears.
"You can move," Baela nodded, her voice thick with emotion. "Just...go slowly."
"Of course," Jon smiled, pushing forward gently.
"Shit!" Baela gasped.
"He feels so good, doesn't he?" Rhaena asked.
"Ye...yes," Baela stammered. "I feel so damn full already, and there's so much more of him."
"You've taken more than half of me now," Jon murmured. "You're doing so well, Haedar."
"You've ruined me, Lekia," Baela whimpered. "You'd better take good care of me now because I'm yours."
"Our father would geld me if I didn't," Jon chuckled.
"And that would be a terrible tragedy," Rhaena added, giggling.
With slow, shallow thrusts, he eased the rest of his cock into Baela inch by inch. The Valyrian beauty let out little breathy moans and whimpers as he went. By the time his balls came to rest against her ass, the last of his cock enveloped by her tight heat, her entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat that made her practically glow in the pale moonlight streaming into the room.
"That...that's all of it?" Baela asked, her voice shaky.
"Mmhmm," Jon replied, kissing her softly. "You feel amazing, Baela."
"Better than Rhaena?" Baela asked, making him laugh and her twin squawk indignantly.
"We're practically the same person," Rhaena huffed. "Physically at least."
"You're both perfect," Jon chuckled, snaking a hand around Rhaena's head and pulling her in for a kiss.
"Fuck me, Jon," Baela commanded. "Fuck me like you fuck her."
"As you wish," Jon grinned, pulling most of his cock out of her vice-tight depths before plunging back inside.
Baela cried out in pleasure, wrapping her legs around him tightly as he started moving within her. He started out slow, still not sure that she had adjusted to his size entirely yet and unable to truly trust her words. The elder of the twins had always been the more adventurous of them, and they were both rather competitive with each other at times. He wouldn't have put it past her to claim she wasn't uncomfortable when she was just to try not to appear somehow worse than Rhaena, and that was the last thing he wanted. There were a number of nonverbal cues he could rely on, though, and when she started trying to rock her hips up to meet his thrusts, he figured that she actually was enjoying this as much as she seemed to be.
"Gods, Jon, that's...gah!" Baela cried, raking her nails down his back when he hit a spot inside her that felt incredible. "Could I try...fucking hells...try being on top?"
"If you want to," Jon replied, carefully rolling them over.
"You're so bloody gorgeous," Baela purred, running her hands over his muscular arms and her fingers through his chest hair. "I've wanted you for years, but I never imagined Father would let me have you."
"Thank the gods you killed Aemond," Rhaena smirked. "Speaking of him, Baela, we really should wear our tiaras to the wedding."
"That's...gods...a great idea," Baela moaned, bouncing haphazardly on his cock.
"Slow down, love," Jon cautioned her, grabbing her hips. "You want to roll your hips, like this."
"I can show her," Rhaena murmured, crawling over to them and embracing her sister from behind. "Just rest her hands on his chest and let me do the work."
"That's not nec...oh!" Baela cried as she felt Jon brush against her inner walls in a way that felt incredible.
She let Rhaena lead for a while, happy to just feel him split her in two over and over again as she got used to riding him, and took over once she got a feel for the movements. Jon groaned in pleasure as she sped up, and she smiled down at him. Seeing the pleasure clearly written on his handsome face and the adoration in his eyes, knowing that she was inspiring such feelings in him, made her heart race in her chest as much as the feeling of him inside her.
"Thank you, Rhaena," Baela whimpered, looking at her sister.
"I would have missed you if we wed different men," Rhaena shrugged.
"You really like watching us, don't you?" Jon asked, looking down at Rhaena's glistening thighs.
"Can you bla...ahh!" Rhaena cried as Baela reached out to swipe a couple fingers across her pink cunt.
"She's soaking wet," the elder twin murmured, looking down at her fingers. "Is there any way that you could fuck us both together?"
"Alas, I have but one cock, but she could sit on my face," Jon offered, looking over at Rhaena whose eyes darkened with lust.
"I love you," Rhaena beamed, scrambling over to him.
"Sit on hi...oh wow," Baela marveled as she watched her sister hook a knee over him.
Jon looked up at Rhaena's cunt and licked his lips. She was so wet she was dripping, and a drop of her fluids landed on his chin before she could lower herself down onto his eager mouth. He grabbed her hips, holding her still, and set about devouring her.
"Oh, fuck!" Rhaena cried, reaching towards Baela, who grabbed onto her as well.
The two of them looked into each other's eyes, four purple orbs that were almost black just then as desire consumed them. Riding their brother together, neither could say who moved first, but the next thing they knew, they were kissing passionately, not for the viewing pleasure of Jon, whose view was entirely blocked by Rhaena's plump, round ass, but out of mutual desire.
Baela picked up her pace, her hips becoming a blur as she rode Jon hard and fast, desperately chasing a peak she knew was going to be explosive. She felt free, hot, and wild, and laughed as she thought to herself that riding this particular dragon wasn't so different from riding a real one.
"What's...oh gods, right there...funny?" Rhaena purred.
"Just comparing Jon to Moondancer," Baela giggled. "Fuck, I love your cock, Jon."
"Isn't it amazing?" Rhaena grinned.
Jon pulled her back a little, moving her clit directly over his tongue, and started flicking it over the taut little nub, making her cry out in pleasure. He felt Baela's inner walls start to flutter around his length and began thrusting up into her in time with each roll of her hips. Their pleasured moans and whimpers turned to screams as they raced towards their peaks, and he felt a sense of pride at being able to drive them both wild at the same time.
"Oh gods, don't stop, don't stop!" Baela screamed as the pressure inside her core grew almost painfully intense.
"You don't have to...gah...worry!" Rhaena cried. "He can fuck for hours. Trust me."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, JON!" Baela squealed as she came hard, leaning on Rhaena as pleasure exploded in her core, radiating throughout her entire body.
Her toes curled, and she writhed in her sister's arms, a cacophony of screams spilling from her pouty lips. Rhaena held her tightly, knowing that she'd be joining her in bliss soon enough. Every flicker of Jon's utterly sinful tongue against her cunt was making her quiver at that point, and she felt her orgasm building rapidly. Just as she felt Baela go limp in her embrace, panting for breath and grinning from ear to ear, the dam broke, and she shrieked.
Jon drank down Rhaena's fluids eagerly, holding her tightly to keep her from thrashing about too much as she came. He'd felt Baela go still, her cunt continuing to spasm around him occasionally as she came down from her high. As Rhaena's writhing stopped, she slumped in Baela's arms, and her twin pulled her forward until she was sitting on his chest.
"That was...incredible," she laughed, looking down at him in wonder.
"That was just...the beginning," Rhaena panted. "He's made me cum...so hard...I flooded the bed...and passed out."
"It gets better?" Baela asked, her eyes going wide.
"It can," Jon replied. "Rhaena here was lying on her belly that time, and I was fucking her into the bed."
"That's my favorite position," Rhaena grinned.
"Of course it is," Baela snarked. "You don't have to do anything in it."
"Oh, piss off," Rhaena glared, earning a smirk from her twin. "Get off his cock; it's my turn."
"Why do I feel like your first pony just now?" Jon chuckled, making them both give him pointed glares.
"I could use a break," Baela muttered, rising off of his cock and stumbling next to them on her shaky legs. "Fucking hells, I've seen newborn fawns with steadier legs."
"Yeah, his cock does that," Rhaena murmured, getting onto her hands and knees. "That's why I said I fell out of bed after the first night we spent together."
"We're lucky that everyone was still so distracted celebrating Aemond's death that day," Jon chuckled, whistling as he saw Rhaena lower her head down onto the bedding, her arse stuck high into the air. "I'm the luckiest man alive."
"Don't you forget it," Rhaena smirked. "Now come fuck me, Jon."
Jon lined himself up with her dripping quim and buried his cock to the hilt with one thrust. Rhaena shrieked and dug her fingers into the bed. As he quickly built himself up to a hard, fast pace, Baela watched in awe. Watching her softer sister get fucked roughly by their lover and scream in obvious delight made it clear to her that her first experience really was just the beginning and that there were really far greater pleasures awaiting her. She hoped that she wasn't left too sore by what they had already done, because as she continued to watch Rhaena and Jon together, she knew that she wanted to experience them all.