Daenerys was hanging on his every word. She kissed steadily harder and more insistent against his neck. As he came to the end of his speech she nipped hard at his neck, drawing a little blood which she licked up eagerly.

"Gods, yes..." she moaned softly. "Rome will be on its knees singing our praises. We'll re-shape the empire to suit our tastes and desires." There was warmth in her core, and her fingers brushed over her own belly. Already she felt herself anxious to carry his child. A son, strong as them both.