Work Text:
The midday summer sun is shining down on King's landing, warming up the crowded streets and thatch roof houses to a near sizzling heat. Whilst the conditions inside of the Red Keep is much more bearable, the ocean breeze rolling in from Blackwater Bay is cooling down the room where the meeting of the small council is taking place.
A broad dark walnut table is positioned at the centre and surrounded with chairs made from the same type of wood, topped with red velvet cushions. Members of the small council are situated along both sides of the great table, with the king seated at the far end. Back facing an open window with a full view of the Blackwater rush, his hand is seated to his right while his son and heir is seated to his left.
Aegon is leaning back against his chair, picking at the dirt underneath his fingernails while he struggles to pay attention to the current affairs of the small council. The crown prince is wearing a black leather jerkin and dark woollen breeches, a rich red cloak is fastened around is shoulders with a dragon pin made out of silver.
The Targaryen prince resembles his father to the point where he looks like the king’s younger self. Looking at each other is like peering into a looking glass, the shape of their faces are near identical, the Valyrian facial features are strongly presented through a pointed nose and high cheek bones. They also have the exact shade of purple eyes, the same silvery long hair styled into an intricate braid which hangs down their backs. The similarities ends with the age lines around Rhaegar’s eyes and with the crown resting on his head.
King Rhaegar wears the same crown that his father, Aerys the second, wore during his reign. A crown which might very well pass down to Aegon when he ascends the iron throne. Which is his right as the heir to the great Targaryen dynasty. A fact which no one would dare to dispute, even if there was actual room to challenge the succession. Now, if only his father was willing to acknowledge one of the most vital customs of their house...
The eighteenth King of the Targaryen dynasty is not a believer of the Doctrine of Exceptionalism and is therefore against incestuous marriages between brothers and sisters. Which has been a prominent and acceptable practice within the House of the Dragon for countless of generations ever since Jaehaerys the first changed the foundation of the faith so that his marriage with his sister would be legitimised. Rhaegar’s firm determination to not continue this custom has resulted in his son beginning to harbour a covert resentment towards his father and the king, unbeknownst to Lord of the seven Kingdoms.
Resentment caused by Rhaegar’s refusal to accept that his children are meant for each other. Aegon cannot focus on the current discussion on today’s agenda as he instead unconsciously begins to recall his childhood. The Prince had been nothing short of obsessed with his older sister ever since he had the means to process the world around him. He clung to Rhaenys’ heels aggressively, constantly following her around like a shadow.
The Princess had adored her little brother and would encourage the young prince’ behaviour. Appearing just as smitten of her sibling as he was of her. They were practically inseparable during the greater part of their childhood, doing everything together and often shunning the company of the court’s other children. Then everything changed drastically when they both started to come of age, the King ordered them to be separated out of fear that their relationship would grow to become inappropriate.
Rhaegar’s direct order had been equally as cruel as it had been ineffective since Aegon had already begun to lust after Rhaenys. The heir to the throne had spent many of his nights caught up in his taboo fantasies, stroking himself while sinful scenes of him and the princess played inside his head. His mind begins to wander to somewhere far away from the small council chambers.
Aegon remembers the night of his thirteenth name day as clear as if it was yesterday, despite it feeling more like a dream than reality. Rhaenys had sneaked into his bedchamber through a hidden passage way whilst wearing nothing but a bed slip. The sight of her bare body underneath the sheer material had excited him beyond imagination. He recalls his struggle to keep his hands to himself as she climbed into bed with him. Grinning like a shadow cat who has its prey backed into a corner, caught between her outstretched claws.
“I forgot to give my little brother his gift.” Rhaenys had purred with eyes full of want. Crawling towards him on all fours, her slip falling open to reveal a pair of budding breasts.
“What are you going to give me?” He asked, voice trembling as his cock begin to stiffen until it hurts.
“Your birth right.” She replied before shrugging off the bed slip, exposing her naked body to his bewitched eyes.
The crown prince had accepted the princess’ gift without any hesitation. Although, he was a maiden just like she was, so their first time was a little clumsy but sweet nonetheless. Rhaenys had taught Aegon how to please her with his mouth before she permitted him inside of her. The blood of her broken maidenhead had coated his cock and soiled the bedsheets. Both siblings had been pleased to see aftermath of him claiming his sister.
It had been both the first and last time where he was permitted to spill his seed inside of her, she had deemed it to be a necessary step for his claim over her to be indisputable. After the act was done, they cuddled briefly before the princess had to retreat back to her bedchamber in order to avoid discovery. Leaving Aegon with a sense of longing and a final word of wisdom that he will never forget.
“Valyrian sisters and brothers were meant for each other, a decision which was already made in the womb. We are destined to be together, just like our namesakes the conqueror and his younger sister-wife. Do not let any one tell you otherwise.” She had told him before slipping away. Taking those words to heart to where they became a part of his bloodstream, a part of who he was.
“Your Grace. Before we conclude today’s meeting, I would like to raise the question regarding the princess’ marital status.” The hand of the king speaks up, drawing everyone’s attention which includes the previously inattentive young prince of six and ten.
Aegon resists the urge to stare daggers at the younger brother of the lord of Winterfell, annoyance flaring up within him. His right hand retreating out of sight underneath the table so that no one can see it clench tightly in anger, edged nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm. The dreaded topic of betrothing his sister to some highborn lord is certain to damper his mood significantly. And from the looks of it, the king happens to also detest this particular line of discussion, judging from the barely audible sigh and vacant expression on his father’s face.
“Ah, yes. How can I forget, the matter must have slipped from my mind entirely.” King Rhaegar says evenly, feigning ignorance as he gazes over his advisors. “Does anyone have a proposal that they would like to bring forth?”
To the left of Aegon, the master of whispers, a peculiar man names Varys, shifts in his seat but stays silent. The old Grand Maester Pycelle follows suit and chooses to keep his mouth shut, no doubt being incapable of naming a suitor worthy of the princess. No voices are being raised on the other side of the table either. The three separate masters of coin, laws, and ships are all fidgeting wordlessly. All of them discouraged from having previous offers shut down by their king.
Finding a suitable husband to the wild spirited princess of eight and ten has proven to be a very challenging task. Rhaenys has refused every proposal thus far and the king has been reluctant to press the issue since he wishes for his only daughter to be happy. Still, Rhaegar might need to force a match sooner or later. The mere thought of having to watch his beloved be given away to another man while he can only weep fills the young prince with a merciless sort of rage.
A couple of minutes pass with nothing but uncomfortable silence to occupy the empty, cool air in between the men seated at the great table. A small smile is tugging against the corners of Aegon’s lips, delighted by seemingly another failed attempt at betrothing his sister. Although, right when the crown prince thinks that they are in the clear and out of the woods, Lord Eddard Stark clears his throat. Stopping the smile from reaching its full potential. Who could this bastard be hiding up his sleeve? He thinks.
“If I may, Your Grace.” Lord Stark begins, treading cautiously. Prince Aegon starts bouncing his right leg anxiously. King Rhaegar nods as gesture of approval. “Jon Baratheon, a boy of four and ten, soon to come of age. Already an excellent swordsman and possesses a gentle nature. An excellent match I’d say.”
Eddard Stark finishes his proposal and the King looks intrigued rather than indifferent, much to Aegon’s dismay. The other lords share approving looks amongst each other, causing the prince’s mouth to go dry. He should have foreseen the possibility that Lord Stark might put his nephew forth as a marriage candidate.
Since he has already introduced the prince to the oldest daughter of Brandon Stark at a recent visit to Winterfell. Sansa Stark was all smiles and courtesies, but the low neckline of the dress she had been fitted in told him the truth behind her coy demeanour. The man has no children of his own, so it is only logical that he would offer some one of his own blood.
“Hmm... Sounds promising, but I am concerned that Lord Robert will be reluctant to agree to this match on behalf of his resentment towards my house and the blame he placed on me for his lady wife's disappearance.” King Rhaegar states bluntly as he moves to rest his elbows on the wooden table. Eyes sharp and calculating as he observes his most trusted advisor.
Relations between House Targaryen and Baratheon are known by the realm to be noticeably tense as of this current generation. Lord Robert is not shy in voicing his dislike for the king whilst in the private company of his friends and household. The resentment stems from the death of his parents, which he believes to be the fault of King Aerys II since he ordered them to go on a pointless voyage that ended up killing them both.
The animosity in Lord Robert’s heart only grew after his beloved wife, Lyanna Stark, ran away from Storm’s End. Leaving both her husband and their four year old son behind. Baratheon places the blame on Rhaegar due to their visit to King’s Landing prior to Lyanna’s disappearance. The king and Lady Stark were seen engaging in a lot of conversation and Robert was quick to latch onto their closeness and name the king as a suspect.
Most highborn lords and ladies saw his accusation for what it truly was – a way for Robert to place the blame on someone else other than himself. And the lord of Storm’s End had to return home empty handed after being unable to provide strong evidence of the King’s guilty. Lady Lyanna’s current whereabouts remains a mystery to this day.
“The Lord of Storm's End is a stubborn man who is known to hold grudges, eve where there are none to be found.” Lord Duncan Beesbury and the master of coin says with a shake of his head, a thinning mop of grey hair moving in tandem. The stoat man turns to look at the hand of the king. “Any luck with finding your sister or has the trail gone cold after all these years?” But Lord Stark is cut off before he has a chance to give an answer.
“Perhaps Lady Lyanna went to where Lord Robert is housing all of his bastards.” Prince Aegon points out, tapping the armrest of his chair with a single digit. His expression is blank whilst every one else’s are various stages of bewilderment.
“But my prince, Robert is known to have fathered many bastards.” Grand Maester Pycelle claims, his face twisted into a frowns as he is unsure of what exact argument the prince is trying to make.
“Precisely, it is no wonder why his wife left him. Callousness is the nature of a Baratheon.” Aegon states bluntly, giving Lord Stark a pointed look. Making his view of Robert known whilst also purposely omitting to voice his whole opinion. Choosing instead to let the hidden meaning float silently in the air.
Like father, like son.
His statement is both uncourteous and unseemly as the heir to the iron throne. A future king should be mindful of how he speaks of his bannermen so he does not cause unnecessary offence. Something the current king makes very clear with the sharp look he throws his son’s way. Aegon pretends not to have noticed his father’s scolding glare whilst Lord Stark appears entirely unfazed by the crown Prince’s crude remark.
“Which is why it is of most importance to bridge this rift with a marriage.” The hand of the king suggests with an even tone of voice. Unconsciously revealing how desperate he really is to have this match approved.
Rhaegar stares into the eyes of his most senior advisor before adverting his gaze and standing up, the other members of the small council following suit. “I will need a few days to consider your proposal, my Lord. Until then, the meeting is concluded.” The King says as he is taking his leave, with the commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Barristan Selmy, trailing behind him.
The Prince does not linger in the small council chamber for more than a second of what he deems necessary, preforming the usual courtesies for the other Lords before heading towards his own private quarters. Traversing the vast corridors and lengthy stairs of the Red Keep at a moderate pace in order to not appear suspicious. Making sure to give back a greeting to every Lady or Lord who chooses to address him first.
A sense of relief washes over him when he finally reaches his intended destination after what must have felt like an eternity. Aegon commands the guards standing at his door to permit no one to disturb him as he passes through the door to his bedchamber. Unclasping his cloak and tossing it over a chair after the door has closed, giving himself a moment for his rapid breathing to stabilise. Waiting until the right amount of time has passed before strolling over to the wall beside his bed and pushing on the familiar hollow point of the brick wall.
Part of the wall gives in to reveal a secret passage, Aegon enters and closes it shut behind him. All of the light from his bedchamber that were illuminating the entrance dies out and leaves the Prince to navigate the tunnel in complete darkness. Fortunately, he has no troubles with finding his way despite having no visibility since he has used this passageway countless of times before. Arriving at the end of his journey faster than expected.
He leans against the secret doorway and listens closely, expecting the sounds of voices conversing but is instead greeted by the faint sounds of moaning. Aegon can feel his cock stir at the sweet noises which could only originate from his sister. The entrance to the passageway gives way beneath the force of his palms, opening up a small gap that the prince passes through before kicking it close.
“Perhaps my eyes are deceiving me, but it looks to me like my big sister got impatient and started without me.” Aegon states with a playful tone as he stalks towards his sister. Wearing a smirk on his lips and kicking off his shoes along the way.
Rhaenys is laying on the four post bed, with the covers thrown to the side there is nothing to conceal her nakedness. Her hands are buried in between spread thighs, fingers toying with her slick cunt. Aegon finds himself mesmerized at the sight of his sister pleasuring herself and moves ever closer. Taking the opportunity to observe the immense beauty of the princess’ body as he climbs into bed with her.
The eldest child and only daughter of King Rhaegar has been gifted the golden complexion of his wife and Queen, Elia of House Martell. The Princess has also inherited her full lips, button nose and curvy shape from their mother. However, she is also infused with the blood of the dragon. Which gives her rich dark brown curls and lilac coloured eyes. Rhaenys is beautiful, intelligent, captivating and most importantly – she is his sister. They share a bond forged with blood that can never be broken.
“I could not help myself. My body was desperately yearning for my little brother and you decided to keep me waiting. So it is only natural that my resolve ended up crumbling.” Rhaenys speaks to him in Valyrian, the tongue of their ancestors and the language that they prefer to speak with each other.
“You forget yourself, sweet sister. You may be the elder but I am the heir and ruler between the two of us.” Aegon says with an aura of dominance and avarice. Purple eyes clouded with lust, displaying his intention to remind his sister of her place.
The prince seizes her wrists and pins them over her head effortlessly, leaning down next to her ear while his free hand covers his sister’s cunt. Index finger sampling her wetness before bringing it back up to his lips for a taste. Both siblings let out a sound of gratification as the prince savours flavour for a moment before bringing back his hand to her pussy. Briefly toying with Rhaenys’ slit until he has had enough of teasing her and sinks a finger into her wet hole.
Rhaenys gasps and lets out a string of unintelligible praises as her little brother drags his lithe digit against her sweet spot. Creating jolts of pleasure with each stroke, which is sent flying up her spine. Aegon decides to be generous and pushes a second finger inside of her, stretching out her tight cunt even further. Wanton moans fall freely from the princess’ lips as the prince play her pussy like a singer’s harp.
Aegon can tell that she is close, threading along cliff side with half of her body ready to fall into the abyss. All that she needs is one final push, which he gives her by pressing his thumb down onto her bud. Rubbing circles against it at a pace that matches the speed of his strokes to her insides. Rhaenys throws her head back onto the pillow as the pleasure begins to flow through out her body.
The princess clenches her captured fists tightly whilst she involuntarily start to trash against her brother’s hold. The sensation that is taking over her body is too much, she can barely keep herself together as her cunt clamp down on his fingers, slick gushing down his wrist. Rhaenys is falling apart, piece by piece, and her brother is the only one stopping her from breaking apart completely.
“I am a fool for touching myself when I should have learned by now that only you can bring me such divine pleasure.” Rhaenys admits eventually after fully coming down from her high. Chest heaving and beads of sweat cling to her forehead as the exertion is finally showing its toll.
While the crown prince looks to be entirely unbothered, still fully clothed, barely a single hair out of place. He huffs out a laugh and then smiles fondly at his sister, releasing his hold on her wrists in favour of tilting her head up to capture her lips in a kiss. Lithe fingers rake through her thick chestnut locks while slender arms wrap themselves around his torso to pull his body down on top of hers.
Their kiss is full of hunger and passion, wet and messy as their lips move together in a specific rhythm that has been shaped into perfection over the years. Aegon tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, dragging the tip of his tongue against hers. Savouring the taste of his sister’s mouth before reluctantly parting from her lips, a thin string of saliva hangs from each of their lips as the prince lowers his head.
Pink lips come into contact with golden skin as Aegon creates a trail of kisses down along Rhaenys’ throat and ribcage. Stopping abruptly her chest to worship both of her breasts with his mouth. Using his tongue to caress one nipple at a time while groping the other lonely teet with one hand. The Princess moans prettily and arches her back, pushing her teets further up into her brother’s mouth.
The prince releases the nipple that he was sucking on with a ‘pop’, abandoning the princess’ breasts to venture even lower down her body. Lightly dragging his lips along the centre of her abdomen, his mouth splitting into a grin when he sees the taut muscles of her stomach twitch with excitement. He halts his advancement just before he reaches the juncture of her thighs, sitting back up so that he can properly appreciate the lustful sight in front of his eyes.
Rhaenys is the prettiest lady in all of the seven kingdoms in her brother’s eyes. Perhaps she is even prettier than the Maiden as she lays sprawled out on the bed – lilac eyes clouded by lust, a small smile tugging at the corners of her full lips, hair draped around her head like a crown, and absolutely glowing in the bask of the summer sun. He flashes her a dragon’s smile – all teeth and sinful intentions.
“I thank the Gods everyday for gifting me such a slutty sister.” Aegon grins as he rubs circles on the insides of her thighs. Playing with his food before he devour it whole.
“And I praise the Gods for giving me a little brother with a big cock.” Rhaenys quips with an upward tilt of her hips, making it very clear as to what she wants exactly.
The prince of Dragonstone can feel his cock grow to be even stiffer than what he thought possible. Aching with the carnal need to bury his length inside of his sister’s snug cunt. Accept, he will not relent and fuck her just yet, since he still craves the taste of her and the sight of her coming undone on his tongue. The grin on Aegon’s lips grows until it splits his face in two, granting him the equal mixed appearances of both a gallant knight and a madman.
“Have some patience sweet sister. I still have to get back at you for disobeying me and touching yourself while I was stuck in a dull small council meeting.” Aegon teases his sister, causing her to pout in disappointment.
However, the childish gesture is short lived since the prince is quick to manoeuvre the princess’ body so that she is nearly folded in half. Successfully turning Rhaenys’ look of chagrin into an expression of elation as Aegon leans over her elevated cunt, fanning his hot breath over the most sensitive region of her body. She clings to her ankles which are splayed out on each side of her head, almost forgetting to breathe while his mouth looms ever closer to where she needs him the most.
A prolonged whine slides past Rhaenys’ lips right as Aegon puts his mouth on her sex. The needy sound eventually morphing into a wanton moan when he swipes his tongue from the bottom of her slit, all the way up to her pearl. He grips her thighs with a frenzied strength, the possessive hold on his sister serves to both keep her still and to show the princess that her pleasure his to give and take away. It belongs solely to him, just like everything else about her.
An immense sense of pride and satisfaction fills the young prince’s chest when he witnesses Rhaenys’ reaction to his tongue worshiping her sex. She is moaning uncontrollably whilst her eyes are tightly shut and her toes are curling from the pleasure that is being emitted from core of her very being. Aegon keeps on mouthing at his sister’s clit, alternating between sucking and licking – following the exact pattern that he knows she loves.
The princess’ moans begins to change pitch until they are uneven and unpredictable, signalling that she is very close. Aegon continues with the same pace, enduring the increasing ache in his jaw in order to bring Rhaenys to the threshold of euphoria. A flow of incomplete Valyrian words and phrases spill out past her lips, occasionally getting cut off by sultry moans.
Rhaenys comes with a scream caught up in her throat, hips bucking wildly like a mustang, and cunt gushing slick like a fresh water fountain. Aegon tries to lap up as much of her nectar as possible while also continuing to worship her clit with his tongue. The overly sweet noises that his sister is creating is actively challenging his fortitude and composure. Testing his ability to keep himself calm whilst being internally pressured to pounce on her and claim her body finally.
Aegon’s fingers flex tensely out of restlessness as he lowers Rhaenys’ lower body back down onto the bed. A thousand ideas of what he wants to do to her is racing around in his mind, preventing him from creating any logical thought whilst also making his cock painfully stiff. He silently observes the princess as she lays motionless on the bed while trying to catch her breath and recover from the mind shattering pleasure that just shook her to the core.
The mere sight of his sister basking in her afterglow results in a wicked plan of action to come to life inside of Aegon’s head. The young prince then yanks on his sister’s arm to get Rhaenys to stand up on her feet, leading her to stand by the window that faces the courtyard and overlooks the city of King’s Landing. She goes along without any protest, her scattered mind choosing to follow its main instinct by naturally obeying her brother.
The princess leans against the windowsill, open palms flat against the cool stone. Her naked body faces the direction of the bustling courtyard down below while Aegon is pressed up against her back. She can feel his hard cock that is hidden by his woollen breeches and unconsciously begins to grind her ass against the bulge. Eliciting a deep moan from the both of them. Until the crown prince stills her movements with a firm grip on her hips, causing Rhaenys to groan out of frustration.
“The topic of betrothal came up at the small council meeting again...” Aegon speaks into his sister’s ear, nipping at the earlobe with his teeth. Whilst the mere reminder of today’s earlier discussion causes his grip on her hips to grow tighter as a sense of possessiveness awakens from deep within him. “Father is considering a forced match between you and Jon Baratheon.”
“Hmm... And did you refuse this proposal on my behalf or did you stay silent and act unbothered at the notion of your only sibling being sold like cattle?” Rhaenys asks with a teasing tone, causing Aegon to click his tongue out of irritation.
“I am not the one who toys with other suitors, entertaining their futile courting attempts with a smile on your face while never actually intending to offer any of them your hand. At least I am being honest and rejecting all attention from any woman who is not you.” Aegon rebukes before nipping at her ear again. One hand leaving her hips to tug at the strings of his breeches.
“Your apparent disinterest in the opposite sex has gotten so bad that the court whisper about you preferring the company of men instead.” Rhaenys jokes, fully intending to rile up her brother. The prince can see through her jabs but decides to give her the fucking she craves anyways.
“Let them gossip to their hearts content, because we both know where my loyalties lie.” Aegon says earnestly while he aligns his cock with Rhaenys’ hole before sheathing himself inside of her with one swift stroke.
Rhaenys hisses through clenched teeth as she is being filled to the brim by the prince of Dragonstone, her own little brother. The stretch to her silken walls is pleasant and not at all painful, her cunt having grown accustomed to the size and shape of Aegon’s cock a long time ago. He exhales into the crook of her neck after bottoming out, keeping his hips pressed firmly against hers while he collects himself. Trying not to be overwhelmed by the euphoric pleasure that her sex exudes.
Nothing about this situation is sane, Aegon realises and chuckles lowly to himself. He and Rhaenys should not have to hide their affection from either the court or the realm. They should be married and show their love to anyone in possession of functioning eyes. They should be able to kiss each other in every room of the Red Keep, share the same wine cup during feasts, and have children of their own.
But alas, they are without their father’s blessing and are therefore forced to sneak around and only meet behind closed doors. Where only the Gods can see them commit the truly heinous sin of embracing their love for each other. Aegon considers himself to be somewhat of a pious man, but he does not fear divine punishment at the slightest. Because he considers eternal damnation to be a price worth paying, if it means that he can experience paradise on earth by being with his sister.
The needy whines emerging from Rhaenys’ throat is enough to wake the crown prince from his daydreaming and bring him back to the present. Aegon sucks in a deep breath of air between clenched teeth while he pulls his hips back, the sweet glide of her cunt nearly leaving him breathless. A moment of silence passes them by while the prince lingers at the edge of her heat with his cock, it only lasts for less than a minute despite feeling like an entire life time.
And then Aegon uses the bruising grip he has on Rhaenys’ waist as leverage to slam his hips forward into hers forcefully. Collectively they let out an unified sequence of moans, releasing all of the pent up frustration and yearning for one another at the exact moment that they come together and become one.
One flesh, one heart, one soul.
Rhaenys tightly grasps the windowsill to support herself when her brother begins to move his hips, fucking her with the precise pace that causes her knees to go weak. Aegon leans his head forward to rest on his sister’s shoulder, lightly nipping at the pulse point on her neck with his teeth in between producing guttural moans. The prince holds her painfully close whilst he ruts his cock into her with shallow and rough strokes, clinging to her tightly as if he expects guards to suddenly rush in and attempt to pry them apart at any moment.
“You belong to me. No other man will ever enjoy you like this.” Aegon growls into Rhaenys’ ear, the dragon within him is now fully awake and is more than ready to take what he wants.
The young heir’s seemingly endless extent of possessiveness and infatuation towards his sister is close to a borderline obsession. Rhaenys is constantly on his mind, ravishing his thoughts from the very moment he wakes up to the very last minute before he falls asleep. She is his primary motivation – he learned to fight with a sword so he could defend her life and vanquish their enemies. He endures all of the dull lessons on politics so that he can someday become a great king for her sake. She is his only reason and everything always comes back to the princess, one way or another.
“Yes, by the old Gods and the new, I am yours. Now make it certain that my body will remember your visit for days to come.” Rhaenys says deliriously as she throws her hips back to meet his jabs halfway.
Aegon readjusts the trajectory of his hips so that he is now rocking feverishly into her warm cunt at a different angle. Hitting Rhaenys’ sweet spot with such force that it causes her to scream from the shocking pleasure rising from her sex with every sharp thrust of his cock. Neither of the two siblings could care any less if anyone might overhear the wanton sounds of their lovemaking. The pair being far to entranced from pleasure to fully recognise the potential consequences of getting caught engaging in activities unbecoming of royalty.
An overwhelming sensation is swiftly descending upon the crown prince, climbing up his loins in rapid succession. Urging Aegon to surrender to the carnal pleasure and spill his seed, the increasing tightness of Rhaenys’ cunt occur in waves as if it is trying to milk him dry. The convulsions of her heat is also signalling how she is advancing fast towards the edge, wanting to drag him down along side her. And he is so very close to falling, until he comes to an abrupt stop mid thrust, planting the head of his cock right up against her womb.
It takes a few seconds before Rhaenys fully understands what just happened, she lets out a noise of disorientation and looks back at Aegon over her shoulder with glassy eyes. Her mind is still in shambles, that much is evident when she silently asks him for the reasons as to why he suddenly stopped moving. The prince of Dragonstone calmly studies his sister’s lewd exterior, committing every minor detail to memory as a vulgar wickedness creeps up his spine. Prompting him to flash her a devilish smile.
“Tell me how much you love my cock, sweet sister.” Aegon smirks down at Rhaenys while stroking her hips with his thumbs in a gesture far too sweet for the current circumstances.
Rhaenys blinks a few times, fluttering her long eyelashes as she is trying to make sense of her brother’s demand. The princess’ slowed mind taking a moment to fully catch up with reality and Aegon cannot help but fawn over his sister’s dumbfounded expression. Priding himself with the ability to reduce the proud and wild princess to a state of debauchery. He taps his sister on the nose to prompt her into answering him.
“I love my little brother's cock!” Rhaenys says truthfully and wantonly, her tone of voice sounding almost desperate as she is urging him to resume fucking her into oblivion. But her lewd declaration only makes him chuckle, his hips are still unmoving and frozen solid like the great wall in the North.
“No sweet sister, scream it in the common tongue. Let everyone in the Red Keep know how much of a filthy brother fucker you truly are.” Aegon demands mercilessly, lips split in a twisted grin.
Aegon stares deep into Rhaenys’ eyes and attentively watches the internal struggle inside of her mind happen in real time. She shuts her eyes tightly and turns her head away from him in favour of facing the courtyard. As if she is intending to hide her shame from the only man who could never be revolted by her in any way, shape or form.
“I am a dirty sibling fucker who love my brother’s cock!” Rhaenys shouts with a trembling voice, sounding hesitant but he can tell that her lips are split into a sinful grin.
The princess’ confession revives the crown prince’s vigour and spurs his hips into moving once again. Picking up right where he left off, using the same swift rhythm to spear his sister’s cunt open in the exact way he knows she likes it. The ensuing gasps that Rhaenys lets out at the moment when Aegon hits the tip of her womb is all the confirmation he needs to keep fucking her like a wild direwolf.
The bedchamber is filled with the filthy sounds of a brother and sister who are locked together in a disgraceful embrace. The faith would ultimately condemn the two of them for making love to their sibling, but they know that the gods would ultimately commend them because they are above the laws of the common folk. They were made for each other and no one will convince them otherwise.
Rhaenys grips the windowsill with such force that her knuckles turn white, moaning with such intensity that her voice is beginning to sound sore. It must feel wonderful for her to get fucked with such intensity and it does not take much more before she is unravelling at the seams. Her cunt pulsate in time with the shocks of pleasure travelling through out her body. The wonderful sensation is more than enough to tip her brother over the edge.
Aegon can feel his lower abdomen become stiff by the stored-up pleasure that has been gradually expanding in his body over time. The young prince grinds his molars together as it becomes unmistakably clear that he will not last for much longer. His legs begins to tremble, his muscles contracting as his balls tighten. He lets out a low groan that originates from deep within his chest whilst the young prince struggles to pull his cock out.
Rhaenys’ cunt refuses to let Aegon go without a fight, pulling his dick deeper and clamping down like a vice. It requires a great effort before he is able to free himself, his cock slipping out of her with gushing sound. Muffled moans escaping his throat whilst he clumsily spills his seed all over his sister's inner thighs. Some of it landed on top of her pretty cunt, the simple sight of his seed sliding down her glistening sex makes him dizzy.
The room goes quiet now that all movements has seized, only the faint sounds coming from the courtyard below and the laboured breathing of the Targaryen siblings can be heard. Aegon grips his sister’s hips tightly while he attempt to steady himself before he ac attempt to regain his composure. Slowly letting go of Rhaenys to make himself look presentable, like he was not just fucking his full blood sibling raw.
Rhaenys stretches her body with the elegance of a shadow cat, drawing Aegon’s attention to the glow on her back. The afternoon sun hitting the light sweat between her shoulder blades, causing it to shimmer like dragon scales. The younger brother swallows thickly as the older sister rises to her full height, turning her head to speak over her shoulder.
“Maybe I should let you finish inside me one of these days, dear brother.” She says softly, voice barely above a whisper.
Aegon's blood heats up at the mere insinuation of the two of them coupling like a mated pair. The thought of her womb swelling with his child causes the corners of his lips to twitch, sharp canines on full display as he flashes his sister a dragon’s smile. The prince pulls his sibling into his arms, relishing in the warmth that her naked body provides. And it almost feels like he is cradling a burning flame, his twin flame.
“I will sister, believe me. We are meant for each other after all.” Aegon hums into the crook of Rhaenys’ shoulder, her scent smells like home.