Daenerys Targaryen (
motheroftitles) wrote in
randomosity2016-07-23 11:24 pm
[For Jorah] Secrets Beneath the Stars
Daenerys Targaryen had been married to Khal Drogo for some months now. She'd adjusted to the life of a khaleesi very well, but Daenerys was not drawn to her wedded husband. He was hard, unyielding and unfeeling. Khal Drogo knew nothing of softness and compassion - the Dothraki had no use for such things. While Daenerys valued a man of strength and a commanding presence, she also needed that soft touch every once in a while.
She found solace in Jorah the Andal.
He was kind, and they spoke often of the Seven Kingdoms and the world she had been forced to leave behind. The world she would retake when she returned to Westeros. Daenerys was happy to be able to have that kind of intellectual stimulation in Jorah Mormont.
But more and more lately, she found her eyes lingering upon his form longer than they should. She found herself wondering what it would be like to peel back the dusty layers of his clothing and leathers to let them fall to the sand beneath their feet. It was those times that she separated herself from him, fearful of what she might do or say. There was many a night that, as Drogo fucked her and even afterward, she thought of Jorah and what it would feel like to lie beneath him or sit atop him. But of course she was married and could not entertain such a thought - Drogo would likely kill Jorah for Daenerys even thinking of it.
So she said nothing, and focused on minor day-to-day tasks. This particular evening, Khal Drogo and the majority of his men had ridden out for an evening hunt. Daenerys sat outside her tent, and couldn't help watching with interest as Jorah sparred with one of the few men who had been left behind. She could see how his shirt was drenched in sweat and clung to his muscular form. Daenerys excused herself and retired to her tent after watching the exchange for a long while. She felt her control slipping.
She found solace in Jorah the Andal.
He was kind, and they spoke often of the Seven Kingdoms and the world she had been forced to leave behind. The world she would retake when she returned to Westeros. Daenerys was happy to be able to have that kind of intellectual stimulation in Jorah Mormont.
But more and more lately, she found her eyes lingering upon his form longer than they should. She found herself wondering what it would be like to peel back the dusty layers of his clothing and leathers to let them fall to the sand beneath their feet. It was those times that she separated herself from him, fearful of what she might do or say. There was many a night that, as Drogo fucked her and even afterward, she thought of Jorah and what it would feel like to lie beneath him or sit atop him. But of course she was married and could not entertain such a thought - Drogo would likely kill Jorah for Daenerys even thinking of it.
So she said nothing, and focused on minor day-to-day tasks. This particular evening, Khal Drogo and the majority of his men had ridden out for an evening hunt. Daenerys sat outside her tent, and couldn't help watching with interest as Jorah sparred with one of the few men who had been left behind. She could see how his shirt was drenched in sweat and clung to his muscular form. Daenerys excused herself and retired to her tent after watching the exchange for a long while. She felt her control slipping.

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She had never tasted Khal Drogo's cum, and didn't intend to.
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"You've satisfied me...but not fully," she wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted to feel his cock stretch her walls and fill her up. "But, to fully satisfy me...we can't. We just can't."
She shouldn't have even done this, as it was.
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"He would kill you..." she whispered, vocalizing her true fear.
She consisted his offer and shook her head. "No, I will clean up. If you stay much longer, the Blood Riders will wonder where you are."
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He gently brushed his thumb over her cheek as he leaned down to whisper into her ear. "If you never desire me again, I will be content if you give me permission to dream of you at night." He whispered lowly into her ear.
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"I can't...I can't take that risk, not with you," she showed her true concern then - that she would lose him. She wouldn't be able to handle it.
But...nor could she give her true answer on seeing him again. "...I want to see you...." she betrayed herself. "But it cannot be...it can't. Drogo will kill you."
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He then kissed her forehead tenderly. "I promise to not be so bold as to get myself killed. I could not live with myself if I ever caused you harm or emotional distress by being too bold." He said with a slight smirk.
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"......come to me when it is safe..." she whispered, shocking herself with the order. "Do not get yourself killed, Jorah Mormont...I...I command it!"
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Return Drogo did, and there was no suspicion as he took her to their bed once again after he returned. He was rougher, far rougher than Jorah had been. It was then that Daenerys realized how much she preferred Jorah - and how deeply she cared for him. It was hard not to call out his name as Drogo made love to her that night.
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Tonight was different. Tonight Drogo had taken her to their tent, had touched her and squeezed over her breasts, gotten her wet and wanting, only to pass out drunk from too much strong wine onto the pelts that covered their bed. Daenerys was disappointed. She was wet. She was horny.
Daenerys donned a hooded cloak - something simple to keep her hidden. She moved silently through the camp. Most of the Blood Riders were drunk, and she went unnoticed. Daenerys slipped behind the tents, behind the tent with slightly darker pelt - Jorah's tent. She knew the Dothraki celebrations didn't interest him if she wasn't there, that he would likely be sleeping.
She slid into the tent silently from the back. Sure enough, she found Jorah asleep. Daenerys stepped up to the cot that served as his bed, letting the cloak fall from her shoulders. She wore a sheer gown that could be seen through - her slender figure and perky breasts.
"Jorah the Andal..." she whispered, crawling into the bed beside him, letting her leg slip between his and she pressed into him slightly. Her hand slid down his chest, over his loose sleeping trousers to press over his cock. "My Jorah. Will you wake for me?"
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He kissed her deeply before pulling back and noting her flushed face of arousal. "How shall I service you tonight Khaleesi?" He asked soft and low.
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"I want you," she whispered. Her fingers gave his cock a squeeze. "All of you."
Daenerys rolled her wrist and pushed his trousers down a bit. She kissed along his earlobe and whispered into his ear. "I need you. I need you inside me. Take me, Ser Jorah Mormont. That is what your Khaleesi wants."
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She felt his tip at her entrance, and with how wet she was, he slid in easily. Daenerys gasped at the feeling of his cock stretching her walls, and for a while she just enjoyed that sensation. Her hands found his shoulders and gripped softly as she began to rock her hips forward and back.
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She could never have dreamed that he would feel this good.
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His cock was twitching deep within her. He could feel himself approaching a release soon. "I'm....close...." He rumbled lowly. He did not want to release within her of that was not what she desired.
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Her core tensed and squeezed. Daenerys began to circle her hips, letting him hit each and every angle inside her. She had to bite her lower lip to keep from moaning too loud. But she was close, she was right there, feeling all the tension and heat pool in her core. Rising, tightening, all the way up from the base of her spine. She was close. Why had she denied herself for so long?
"Close...close...." she moaned back.
Wait...he was close...that meant. "You mustn't-!" she gasped, but couldn't finish her sentence. She was coming, hard. Daenerys dragged her nails along his skin and cried out, barely able to stifle her voice as her orgasm crashed over her. Her fluids burst from within her, dripping down his shaft and against her thighs. She couldn't let him come inside her though...she couldn't risk getting pregnant and giving birth to a non-Dothraki child. They would know in an instant the child wasn't Drogo's.
Even if Jorah was a far greater and more skilled warrior. No, he would have to pull out and spill outside her walls.
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Jorah used his strength to lift her enough for his cock to slip out of her tight heat. He set her back down to pin his cock between their bodies outside of her center. He moaned her name softly as the realization that she had released hard on him sent him over. His cock twitched as his large release spurred all over both of their bodies. He was breathing heavily as his release ebbed and his cock very slowly began to soften.
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All the same, she moaned at the feeling of his release covering her skin. "Gods, Jorah..." she moaned as she leaned down to kiss him.
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