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Lyonel Baratheon was drunk.
When was he not? He was not known for going to bed sober.
Unlike the perfect King.
The Lord of Storm's End had never been much of a fan of the dragons. He may be related to them, but that did not automatically mean that he liked his kin.
His main issues were with the Head of House Targaryen.
The man resembled his Dornish mother, had married a Marcher Lady for politics, and was reportedly a good warrior. He was simply too perfect.
'No man can be that perfect.' the Stormlander thought bitterly as he continued wandering through the hallways.
Suddenly, he heard moans of pleasure emerging from the Royal chambers.
The door had been left slightly ajar.
The dark-haired man's curiosity was piqued, and he licked his lips. He himself was always in for a good fuck. It kept his Alpha instincts sharp.
As silent as he could, he stepped towards the open door and looked inside.
When his brain registered what he saw, he was momentarily nailed to the ground.
A male Omega in all his naked glory, broad as a tree trunk and heavily muscled, was riding His Grace King Baelor II Targaryen who was mostly still clothed. He was the origin of those moans that could be heard in the hallway.
'I knew it!' Baratheon told himself. 'No Alpha can resist a ripe Omega.'
His blue eyes focused on the Omega.
The Omega looked young in the face despite his massive body. He was definitely a decade younger than the King, of prime breeding age. His shoulders and hips were broad, carried by strong legs. His ass was nicely plump, perfect to grope while mating. They had sleek honey brown hair, but his eyes were obscured by their hair and closed eyelids.
Lyonel was grinning.
Finally, he had found the imperfection.
"You're doing so well, love." the breathy voice of His Grace said. "You're taking me perfectly into your ripe body."
"M'lord." the young man moaned. "I need you deeper inside of me. Please."
'That whore must be good, to be begging for more from the Breakspear.'
The reigning King pulled the man further down onto his cock with a growl. "Like that, love?"
"Yes, m'lord." the common-born man answered. "I want all of you, Your Grace."
"And you will have it, love." the Targaryen dynast stated. "Get onto the bed, so I may undress and take you as an Alpha should take an Omega."
The brunet whined at the loss as he rose from Prince Baelor's lap. His juices coated the Alpha's long and thick cock which he'd been riding for some time.
The half-Dornish Valyrian undressed himself fully, revealing his own muscular legs and toned chest.
The Omega was a giant, a head taller than the Prince who was definitely not a small man himself. He laid down on the silk sheets of the bed, spreading his legs wide to reveal a lovely pink cunt. He looked well-used, with bruises on his waist and bites on his upper-chest.
The Stormlander could now see that the whore's eyes were blue, as bright as the cloudless skies.
The black-haired Targaryen mounted the whore in his bed, sliding back inside that exposed cunt with practised ease.
"Your Grace." the giant moaned.
The next sounds coming from him were a stream of 'ah-ah-ah' sounds which corresponded with the Royal's quick and deep thrusts into of him.
'The man does not look like he's out of practise, even if he lost his wife some years ago.' Baratheon thought as he licked his lips. Watching the scene before him was causing his own cock to harden. He grabbed himself through his pants.
"I will breed you again." the Breakspear growled. "I will fuck you fat with my pups, and you will grow even bigger then you did last time."
'So the whore has the heir's bastard.' the Lord of Storm's End thought. 'Makes you wonder if the man has more bastards out there, fathered on whores. They probably look Dornish, so no one would think they're of the King's seed.'
Dornishmen were known to be more promiscuous. Their Rhoynari culture differed vastly from Andal culture, hence the tensions.
The King bit down on the Omega's shoulder, making them cry out, and tightened his grip on their wrists.
'The His Grace likes it rough. No wonder he would ask for the services of such a strongly built Omega.'
"Your Grace." the brunet moaned once more. "Please. Give me your Royal seed. Pup me again."
Lyonel imagined having his own bastards with this massive whore, should he get the chance to pup them.
Baratheons, both bastard-born and trueborn, were big dark-haired and blue-eyed. And his pups with this giant whore would probably be bigger than other Baratheons babes.
"Then come." King Baelor ordered. "Come on my cock."
A few thrusts later, the Omega reached his peak and loudly cried out. He arched his back, pressing his chest into the King's chest.
The Targaryen dynast soon spilled his seed, remaining deep inside the whore in his bed. He grunted as he came down from his high, his hands tracing the Omega's sides as he put his mouth on their neck as they were still tied by the Alpha's knot.
With a massive grin, Baratheon retreated to his own rooms.
He would get himself off first, then store the information away for later.
The Stormlander saw the King again in the morning.
Once more, His Grace looked perfectly put together. As if the encounter with the whore had not happened.
However, there were a couple of seats next to him that were empty.
A bit strange, considering both his sons had already taken their seats and so had the youngest of 4 brothers with his brood of six.
"Are we expecting more guests?" the Stag asked to the second born son of the late King Daeron II.
Prince Aerys, now 4th in line to the Iron Throne since the King's first grandchild had been born to Prince Valarr and Kiera of Tyrosh, nodded. "His Grace's common-born wife."
The Lord of Storm's End blinked rapidly. "Say what?"
He could not remember attending any type of royal wedding since Prince Valarr got married seven years ago. Nor had he received an invitation.
"It was a very sudden marriage." the bookish Prince told. "My brother left to attend some Reachgirl's name day tournament before our father's death, and returned a moon later with this hedge knight's squire he claimed to have married in a tiny Sept with only two Septas and a local Maester as witnesses to the union."
Baratheon leaned back in his chair, processing the information.
'The King has remarried to a commoner and no noble I have spoken to in the last five years knows anything about it.'
"Our father was very unhappy about that." Aerys continued, not noticing the other nobleman's absent look. "Threatened to remove Baelor as both Hand and heir to the throne if he did not annul the marriage and break the bond. My brother did not care. He packed up his stuff and left for Dragonstone that same day with his Omega wife. He didn't return until father had passed away from the Spring Sickness."
"How has he kept it silent?" the dark-haired man questioned.
The Prince raised an eyebrow. "He hasn't. The noble lords of this realm simply do not speak of it. They refuse to acknowledge Duncan as their Queen, but they have been forced to acknowledge the children that were born from the marriage."
Lyonel placed a hand over his face. "I have missed something."
"You have not been in King's Landing a lot, Lord Baratheon."
Just as the second son of Daeron II was done speaking, that massive male Omega entered the room.
The Stormlander felt his breath get caught in his chest.
In naked form, the Omega had been exquisite to look at. But now, draped in red silks and gold, he looked even better to any Alpha's eyes.
The red robes were fitted just right, accentuating their waist and hips while making him look even wider at the shoulders.
His scent consisted of oranges and cherry blossom. He was ripe for breeding, and he was also carrying four young children in his arms.
The oldest two had black hair with mismatched eyes (violet on the right, brown on the left), the third had silver hair and blue eyes, and the fourth had honey-brown hair and different mismatched eyes (blue on the right, violet on the left).
The Head of House Targaryen stood up. "My love. I see you've gathered our pups."
"They were eager to see their Alpha Sire, my King."
'He was not fucking a whore last night... he was fucking his young wife.'
Lord Baratheon had to admit that his very distant cousin was a very lucky man.
The common-born Queen was a beauty, and the smallfolk would undoubtedly love him just because he was one of their own.
And in turn, it made His Grace more loved.
'Well-played, cousin. Well-played.'
The 42-year-old nobleman wondered how His Grace had chosen this particular Omega.
Everyone knew that the King had many admireres among the smallfolk. He had endeared himself to them by listening to them and trying to meet their needs without stepping too much on the toes of fellow noblemen. Many said it was his Dornish blood that made him so noble.
The half-Dornish Valyrian took the two children who almost resembled him perfectly.
"Those are the twins, the oldest, conceived and born on Dragonstone. Princes Baelon and Maegar." Prince Aerys told. "The other two are Prince Lucerys and Prince Aerlan. Though I do not doubt my brother's wife will whelp again. He's not yet two-and-twenty, and seems to experience little trouble bearing children, unlike my late goodsister."
Everyone in the realm knew that Lady Jena Dondarrion had had a lot of trouble during her 2 pregnancies, hence her sons had been born several years apart. She was but a Beta, yet the King had loved her anyway. She'd died 10 years ago, only a few months after the birth of Prince Matarys.
It should not come as a surprise that the King had found someone new to warm his bed, though there had been rumours that he shared his bed and body with his widowed Alpha brother Maekar.
'Perhaps they could still be true, but now there is also an Omega in his bed so his seed will not go to waste.'
Lyonel wanted an Omega like this Duncan.
He may not be able to have this one, but he could find another.