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A Reward for Service

They made love. On Damon's featherbed, lady and knight took their pleasure upon each other, slaking their wanton desires with blissful, wild abandon. It was not low-minded rutting, like what a man would seek in a Flea Bottom whorehouse. But indeed their coupling was frantic and desperate.

Hands roamed across flanks, down backs and over bellies, eager to touch, to grope, to feel. Their bodies collided, skin sliding against skin, firm muscle hammering upon soft flesh. They were joined, him piercing her, her engulfing him. She was so maddeningly tight around his cock. And her cunt, so wet and so gods damned hot. She was a molten depth that he craved to drown his cock in. He bathed his length in her slick honey.

When their end came, she screamed, howling like a madwoman while her nails raked red lines down his back. He spilled his scalding seed into her and found his hunger sated… but only for a brief moment. Soon, his cock stirred back to life. And his lustful spirit burned for more.

Then they made love again. All that Ser Damon was eager to take, Lady Taena was eager to give. The queen had bid her so, Damon knew. But it was not only duty that drove the Myrishwoman to surrender her body to the knight's lusts. She was as desperate for his cock as he was for her tight cunt. The fact that she was soaking wet between her legs was all the proof he needed.

The first time, she had been on her back. Now, the lady was on top. She rode him as if he were her prized mount, sitting upon his waist with his prodigious manhood nestled deep in her slick folds. All the way to the root she took him, sighing softly as she rocked her wide hips atop his groin. Her hands were planted firmly on his broad chest, her long locks of black hair tumbling down her shoulders… And her large, proud breasts swaying pendulously above Ser Damon's face.

Their first bout had been fast and ferocious. A desperate coupling that burned bright and brief. But by now, Lady Taena had been riding Damon for some time. Slowly, but firmly, she rocked her hips upon her unwavering steed. She was determined to draw another helping of seed from his churning balls. Damon could see it on her flushed face. He would give her what she craved… But only after she worked for it.

"Gods…" Lady Taena huffed, letting her soft rump slap down onto Damon's firm thighs. "What does it take to tire you, bastard?"

Her cunt, so wet and warm, tightened around his prick, drawing a grunt from the knight's throat. The woman's face was twisted in near-delirious pleasure… But Damon's eyes were drawn lower, captivated by the way her large teats quaked and quivered with every small shift of her body. They hung low over his face and he couldn't resist the urge to lean up to kiss the dark, hard nipples. He lashed his tongue against those wondrous peaks, kissing one breast then the other. When he was content, he let his head fall back against the bed, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"The Warrior has blessed me with a vigor that few others possess, my lady." Damon told his lover. His hands held firm to her hips, his fingers sinking into the soft, pliant flesh.

Moaning, she fell upon him then, trapping her round teats between their bodies. Her dark hair came down around his head like a curtain, soft locks brushing across his skin. Her forehead pressed against his and he could feel her hot breath on his face. Lady Taena stole a quick kiss, giving a pleased hum.

Damon gave a low grunt and used his grip on her waist to rock her body atop his. Her cunt, so tight and slick, stroked the length of his prick.

"Oh!" The Myrish beauty cried, exhaling sharply into Damon's neck. Her cunt clenched around manhood, milking him. A moment passed and then Taena lifted her body some, staring down at Damon with hazy eyes. Her next words came slow and strained. "It's because… you're a bastard. That's where your fire comes from."

"How so?" Damon huffed. Beads of sweat trickled across his brow.

"Bastards… Are born of lust." Lady Taena answered, rolling her hips. She sighed, shuddering atop of her strong, vigorous mount. She sank back down onto his cock, her buttocks clapping lewdly against his muscled thighs. She moaned as Damon struck deep within her sex. Beneath her, the bastard knight hissed through his teeth. The dusky woman gave a breathless laugh. "They are born of lust… Thus they are lustful. It is your nature to bed ladies and whores, sweet knight. The gods made you to fight all day and fuck all night."

"The gods have my thanks." Damon grunted.

Taena leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Mine as well."

Then Lady Merryweather started to rock her hips faster, rising and falling upon Ser Damon's hard, swollen cock. Soon their bodies were crashing together, the sounds of their carnal joining filling the bedchambers and carrying on out the open window. Taena's moans grew louder, turning into shrieks and screams. Her nails dug into Damon's skin and soon even the knight was growling and spitting curses. His blood boiled in his veins and his skin was flushed red hot. His balls roiled and churned with scalding seed, his prick ready to erupt.

The sweet sounds of her desperate cries… The tight wetness of her cunt… The way her heavenly teats swayed and swung right in his face… It was too much for Ser Damon Storm. This time, it was he who found his ending first. Snarling, he gripped tight to Taena's hips and drove himself up into her needy cunt as far as she could take him. Then he let loose, shooting hot seed into her silky folds.

Her cunt tightened around him. Lady Taena quickly followed him over the edge, screaming.

It was ecstasy that was poured over him, molten metal from a smith's forge. Over his skin, into his veins, deep into his bones. A fire blazing within his chest, his belly. Boiling hot seed frothing in his balls, now rushing forth like a flood from a broken dam.

The Myrishwoman whined and whimpered above him, the feminine keening so sweet and womanly that Damon thought he might spend again. When his manhood could give no more, the bastard knight sucked in a ragged breath. Lady Taena found herself drained of her strength and collapsed atop him, moaning softly as she settled her arse onto his groin, too weak to remove herself from his cock.

Lady Taena Merryweather may not have been the golden queen that Ser Damon desired, but nonetheless she proved herself to be a delectable prize unto herself. As his taxing efforts began to catch up with his body and weariness began to pour into his bones, the Stormlander felt more than pleased with the path his life had taken.

If this is the way Queen Cersei rewards loyalty, she may have my sword for a thousand lifetimes…

Shockingly, neither of them fell asleep. As exhausting as the bedding was, their blood still ran hot in their veins. Too hot for fatigue to claim them. So for a time the knight and the lady simply talked.

His lover rested her head on his chest. She had her body pressed into his side with one of her legs swept possessively over his own. She idly traced lines over his flat stomach with her fingers. It did not bother Ser Damon. He always enjoyed the softness of a woman's touch.

"You made the right choice…" Lady Taena told him. "Pledging your sword to Queen Cersei."

"Clearly." Damon answered with a faint grin. "Especially after a reward like that."

Taena gave his chest a half-hearted slap.

"You jape. But she will make a fierce queen. A strong queen. One that will crush all who oppose her."

For a moment, Damon did not answer. Lady Taena, he assumed, was the queen's confidant. It made sense that she would be privy to at least some of the crown's plans. And that made Damon want to know more. This was the crown he had chosen to serve, after all. It was in his best interest for the Iron Throne to succeed.

"She's spoken to you of her plans?" He asked.

Lady Taena hummed in affirmation. She pressed a kiss to his chest, running her hand over his body, her fingers raking through his dark chest hair.

"First, she will take back Dragonstone from the usurper Stannis Baratheon. Leave him without his seat."

She would send men to attack Dragonstone? But that would be a waste.

Ser Damon had learned years ago about the value of restraint. But for this, he could not keep silent.

"That would be a mistake." He said to the woman at his side. He did not speak harshly, but his conviction in his truth gave weight to his words. "Dragonstone poses no threat to King's Landing. Stannis took most of his men to the North. Sending a force to lay siege to that castle would be a waste."

Lady Taena lifted her head from his chest. She looked at him with curious eyes.

"What would you do instead?"

Ser Damon thought for a moment. He took a breath through his nose. Then he met his lover's gaze.

"I would focus my attention on the Ironborn." He told her. "Rapers and reavers, the whole bloody lot of them. They've attacked the North already. But they'll be wanting more riches than the Northerners can give them. Soon enough, they'll turn their ships to the Westerlands. How tragic would it be for Queen Cersei Lannister to lose her ancestral home…"