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Out of the two things Corlys Verlaryon cherished—the sea and his Lady wife Rhaenys—only the first of the two was lenient with him, easily forgiving a long absence and welcoming him back into its salty arms. However, the water could only give so much and left him longing for that which only his beloved possessed and bestowed, lying awake at night in his cabin aboard. The warmth of her body pressed to his, the weight of her head on his chest, the tight grip of her heat around his manhood.
He’d seen Rhaenys flying Meleys earlier today as he’d steered the Sea Snake towards Driftmark, but now that he’d set anchor, his lady wife was nowhere to be seen, depriving him of her precious smile to greet with a kiss. Not even when his heavy leather boots crossed High Tide’s threshold, his tired steps echoing through the stone halls, could he make out the shape of her.
The throne room—empty.
His bedchamber—empty, unlike all those other times when he’d found her splayed and willing on his bed, eager to reunite.
Today, Corlys found his wife in her own bed chamber, her back turned to him as she stood on the balcony and overlooked the narrow sea, the tides crashing into the rock formations. She’d answered his knock, but paid him no mind as he entered, his gift in firm hands until he laid it on the bed.
Coming up behind Rhaenys, long white hair cascading down her back, he placed his arms around her waist and joined his large hands on her stomach, pulling her close to him as he sank his nose into the crook of her neck. She tilted her head and gave a long exhale, pleasing him with the knowledge that he still knew how to ease her.
“You were gone a long time,” Rhaenys sulked, but he could hear the relief on her breath. “I was afraid you might not return for me.”
Corlys spun her softly, backing her against the stone railing of the balcony where she caught herself. He brought his knuckles to her cheek, brushed over the high-set bone, and she leaned into it, eyes fluttering shut. “Every voyage begins and ends with home , my dearest love.”
“Had you not forgotten where that was?” she asked in a silent accusation.
“‘tis in your lap. The place where a man can truly be man, the place that brought forth our children.”
Clasping her hands around his wrist, Rhaenys opened her eyes and looked straight into Corly’s soul with her intense gaze. His heart skipped a beat, his crotch twitched, and he leaned down to brush his lips against hers, tickling her with his overgrown beard. She hummed as she would, sending tingles down his spine imagining her making these noises while he was deep inside her.
“Let me bed you, wife,” he muttered against her mouth, but stopped himself as he remembered what he’d brought home from his adventure. “Actually, I come bearing gifts.”
Rhaenys, already softened by a breath of his scent, pulled away to read his expression, raising a round eyebrow. “Whatever would that be?”
“See for yourself.” He made a grand gesture inside; Rhaenys followed and spotted the wrapped gift on the bed, picking it up and untying the ocean’s blue ribbon while eyeing her husband with narrow eyes, sceptical as ever.
Corlys hid his smirk behind his fist, keen to see the expression that emerged once Rhaenys held the phallus made of dragon bone in her hands and stroked it over her palm. “Is this so I won’t be cross if you leave again tomorrow? Keep me sated?”
“Not at all.” He reached for the wrapping paper, taking the silken contraption his wife had paid no mind to and fastening it to the piece. “You see, I was told about this in Essos.”
Gently taking the contraption from her hands, he held it in front of himself to demonstrate its harness function.
Rhaenys’ frown remained firm. “I see no need for such device unless your manhood has taken the brunt of a beating on your journey?”
“My dearest wife, this is not intended for you. ‘tis for me.”
“Corlys!” Rhaenys gasped, a shudder running through her.
“I have heard many a story about the practice,” he assured, handing it back to her while holding her gaze, “and have been unable to banish the thought of you wearing this out of my mind ever since.”
Bewildered, Rhaenys brushed her fingers along the smooth, sculpted shaft as she would do with his cock. The thought of her clever fingers playing with his tip as she did now with his gift, accompanied by a subtle clinking of her rings, sent blood rushing south.
“Will you try it on, for me?” He sounded more hopeful than was appropriate for a man of his station, but now that he was so close to experiencing what he’d been dreaming of during lonely nights, he failed to stifle himself.
When Rhaenys didn’t answer, his heart sank, but then she crossed the room to the folding screen, sliding behind it with a sly smirk, and anticipation blossomed anew in his chest.
Sitting on the bed, Corlys watched his wife’s silhouette as she undressed and let her garments pool at her feet. The light filtered through the panels, soft as were her curves, golden like her tan.
She strapped herself in, tying knots on either hip; the shadow of the phallus was imposing, drying out his mouth. And when she stepped out , his breath caught.
Coming to stand in front of him, he raked his eyes over her slim figure, the long legs, the ample, freckled bosom partly covered by her endless silver hair, and lastly, the regal dragon bone phallus at her crotch.
Rhaenys stepped between Corlys’ legs and he placed his hands on her hips where she’d fastened the golden silk, admiring and drowning in lust. “Are you quite comfortable?” he asked, looking up to her.
Sliding her hands up his strong arms, she ignored the question and advised, “You should disrobe at once, husband.”
His eyes lit up, even more when he spotted the twinkle of enjoyment in hers, revelling in the power he granted her. Mayhaps, he thought, it was her past that made her pursue it in every aspect but the political one—commanding the bedroom, riding him to ruins, draining his manhood for her own pleasure, not that he minded.
Rhaenys took what she wanted, and now he wanted her to take him.
“As you wish, milady.”
She fisted his linen shirt in a possessive gesture, lips pressed together until the fine wrinkles became prominent, and undid the few buttons it had before tearing it over his head. After, he got rid of his trousers and boots and threw himself back into the pillows while she rounded the corner and stood at the end of the bed, looming.
Like a big cat, those he’d only ever heard of in tales, she crawled over the mattress—purposeful, gracious movements of her strong body—and came to settle and lie between his legs, wasting no time to wrap her hand around his already hardening cock, locking her lust-dazed eyes with him.
“I cannot deny my intrigue to discover how loud I can make you scream.” He puffed out a heavily aroused breath and a low rumble escaped his throat when Rhaenys gave his tip a lick, only to tease and delight in his strong reaction. “Already too much, poor husband?”
“Not at all,” he denied, but the strain in his voice gave him away.
“There is no doubt in my mind you would falter if I gave you the same treatment as you do me on the nights of your return,” she taunted, sliding a lazy hand up and down his length and using the other to discreetly slip a finger lower to play at his dam and trace his entrance. “But I intend to prove my theory.”
Corlys’ eyes widened as he felt it through the gentle stimulation of his shaft and he swallowed hard, re-evaltuating his decision since he did tend to rough up his wife, pound her into the floor, shove her up the walls, claim her every orifice—with love of course, if not utter devotion. “May I remind you that I have always been patient with you in new domains?”
“You may, and I shall consider,” Rhaenys hummed and spat onto her finger before nudging it into him. He forgot to exhale as his muscles fought the intrusion, but she never let off. “Do keep breathing, dearest. I wouldn’t want our tryst to be cut short.”
It was provocative, the way she propped her head up in her hand as if bored by a task as menial as fucking her finger in and out of her husband while his cock assumed its fully erect state. He pushed himself up onto his forearms and angled his hips to get more comfortable, watching his goddess of a wife naked between his thighs, hair splayed over her back like the foam topping the rolling waves of the sea.
“Rhaenys?”
“Yes, husband?”
“Did you know,” he sank his rough fingers into white strands, brushing softly, “that I am the luckiest man in all of Westeros for the simple reason that I get to walk this realm with you by my side?”
“Does having my fingers,” she pushed in a second, pulling gasps from him in swift succession, “inside your arse make you sentimental, husband?”
“I mean it,” he gasped and Rhaenys offered a comforting smile as she removed herself from him.
As she moved up to lure him into a kiss, the dragon bone brushed against his length and made it throb with excitement.
“Then it pleases me,” she said, and offered Corlys a glimpse of her delightful breasts.
He palmed one as she climbed higher and took a nipple between his teeth, eliciting a breathy moan from her. Sucking it into a hardened state, he resolved to take care of her later. Fuck and lick her until the sheets were soaked through and she’d be as contented and spent as could be.
Giving herself to Corlys’ affections, Rhaenys played with his braids as his tongue flicked over her nipples and she began to move her centre over his thigh without intention, rubbing the shafts together in the process and only riling him up further. Their tongues entwined, hot and wet like her slick on his skin, but when he put his hand in the small of her back, she pulled away and sat back, shimmying her hair over her shoulders. “On your hands and knees.”
Her tone left no room for disobedience, so Corlys followed suit and faced the ornate headboard, his cock stiff between his thighs and his arsehole pulsing in anticipation as his breaths grew deeper. The mattress dipped behind him when Rhaenys positioned herself and ran a hand down his spine before settling on his buttocks, spreading his cheeks to slide the dragon bone through his crack.
Goosebumps formed all over his body and a moan was already building in his chest when the coolness of the dragon bone contrasted the warmth of his wife’s hands grabbing his flesh. Thankful Rhaenys had taken note of the olive oil he’d added to the gift, he steadied his stance as she poured it over both the toy and him before easing her fingers back inside, loosening him up.
He was wild for her, muttering profanities into his beard when she set the tip of the dragon bone against his oiled entrance with little pressure to give an idea of the size—tremendous doubt about his capabilities flooded his mind and left his palms sweaty against the sheets, but there was no going back now.
Rhaenys, noticing his distress, cooed to him, “ Good husband, so loose for me.”
It was a blatant lie, he was well aware of his own tightness, but it made him relax regardless, so that Rhaenys could inch the bone cock further into him, going slow and pausing once the head slipped in. “ Rhaenys ,” he groaned.
… and received more praise in response. “ Mh… taking me so well.
Rhaenys progressed, stretching him beyond what he thought possible for this part of his body, until she was all the way inside him, filling him up to the hilt. Corlys clenched his teeth and fists, allowing the intrusion with a degree of pride that he’d taken it all, yet apprehension nagged at him at the prospect of what was to follow.
His wife’s fingers found their way into his hair and tugged, making him arch into the dragon bone shifting inside his guts, and he grunted out a pleasurably pained, “ Ahh! ”
Kneading his cheeks, Rhaenys soothed him and snaked a hand between his legs to give his cock some attention, stroking its length as she drew out bit by bit only to slither back in. The intensity, the stretch, the burn—it was almost too much if it weren’t for this tingly, ecstatic sensation that sparked each time his wife brushed just right against his walls.
“Tell me, what do I get out of this?” she asked then, leaning her weight onto his back until she was fully laid on top of him, deepening the penetration to an extent that had him drawing in a sharp breath.
“A great deal of joy, I hope,” he pressed through gritted teeth.
Rhaenys picked up a steady rhythm. “That won’t do, I’m afraid.”
“Pearls? Gold rings?” Corlys panted his offer, at the mercy of her quickening thrusts.
“I want the most pristine sapphires in all of Westeros,” she snarled, grabbing the back of his neck and pressing his cheek into the pillow as she rode him. “Blue as the sea you favoured over me.”
“That is not tr—!” he protested, but was silenced with a hard stroke.
“No, no, it is.” Rhaenys chastised, brushing the back of his thigh like a tickle and squeezing his balls just to make him go mad. “But I will make sure you won’t dare be so foolish again.”
Proving her point, she plunged the full length into his tight arsehole until the defined muscles on his back contracted harshly. “Understood?”
Corlys had been reduced to a whimper, struggling to recover from the powerful thrust as Rhaenys resumed with a lighter rhythm. His cock throbbed with need—he could even feel it in his balls—leaking pre-cum onto the sheets.
When he didn’t answer, Rhaenys gave him another rough shove, and his scream had an even higher pitch, like that of a maiden, bouncing off the walls of High Tide. “Answer me,” she demanded.
“You will have anything! Anything!” She didn’t slow down, slapped against him with deep and languid strokes, nails digging into his butt cheeks. He tried to appease her once more. “All the riches of the Seven Kingdoms shall be yours, my Queen!”
But it was for nought; she was relentless and he… loved every second of it.
The depth of the pleasure like he hadn’t known it before thrumming in his core battled with the burn of the soreness, made him cry out, “Mercy! Please, Rhaenys!”
“Beg some more and I might take pity,” she murmured close to his ear, pressing her breasts into his shoulder blades. “You did scorn me after all.”
“Please, my sea breeze, my beacon tower, I can’t take no more!” he pleaded, choosing the most maudlin of words he could find, hoping it would soften her heart.
“Is that you proving me right?” She kept pounding into him, giving him sweet agony while losing her breath herself. “Too weak to take a proper fucking from your wife?”
“I am.” He gave her what she wanted, degraded himself. “I am weak, Rhaenys.” Just when he felt like he was going to rip, Rhaenys finally eased her pace, yet he continued his lines of worship in a mindless, incoherent stammer. “You are the goddess of the bedroom. No one can measure up to your finesse, your grace, your allure.”
“Go on.”
“It is a privilege to sheathe myself into your sweet cunt,” he went on, lost in the haze of his approaching climax, cock pulsing. “And it will be my sacred duty to ensure my lady wife starts and ends each day in ecstasy.”
Satisfied, Rhaenys stilled her movements and yanked his head back, forcing him back onto his knees for her and even further so that her final thrust would be angled upwards.
“Come around my cock, Corlys,” she told him and drew all the way out only to bury the dragon bone in his arse with a powerful thrust, directly hitting the sensitive spot that sent lightning from his tailbone to his head. Practically vibrating, he spurted his seed onto the bedsheets, unleashing loud grunts and moans. “That’s it,” she hummed, exhaustion on her breath.
When Rhaenys released Corlys’ hair from her grip, patting his buttocks as she pulled out, he collapsed into the bed stomach-first, catching his breath from the force of his orgasm.
The ringing in his ears was so loud that he could barely hear as Rhaenys untied the harness and laid it aside. It was only when she reclined next to him, on her side, that the cloud of emotion that had formed above his head released its rain on him.
Rhaenys traced patterns on his sweat-covered back, head propped up, while he questioned every fact about life he’d ever held to be true. It seemed to amuse her, his expression as if he’d seen the Seven himself, and he took offence from it.
“Do not mock me, wife.”
She moved close to his ear, her breath tickling the shell of it, and said, “You, Corlys, better watch your mouth speaking to the woman who defiled your arse and will not hesitate to do it again.”
He huffed out a laugh and then they both couldn’t stop the low chuckles as he rolled onto his back. As soon as he’d pulled his wife close, she rested her head on his chest, where he carded his fingers through her hair in a gentle massage.
She hummed, he smiled—his princess, after all.
Restoring order, Corlys thought in irony; as he considered himself a changed man.