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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"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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"I love you," she whispered back, hardly believing her own words, but it was true. She did love him. He was for her, and she didn't know what she would do without him.
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But she was married to Khal Drogo. She would have to carry his child.
"Stay alive, that is what I require of you. That is what I command you to do," she replied. "And...if the time comes and the Gods deem it necessary...you must watch me carry Drogo's child..." it hurt her to say it. But they had to accept the fact. She didn't want to think of how it would hurt him to see her pregnant with another man's child.
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He would not hope for tragedies to befall her that would give him the opportunity his heart and body desired with her. He could not allow himself to be that selfish.
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"If I asked, could you..." she bit her lower lip. "Are you strong enough, could you kill Khal Drogo,if I asked it of you?"
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He looked deep into those violet eyes of hers and gave a slow nod. He leaned in to speak lowly into her ear. "What would draw the least suspicion would be very painful and slow for him." He said. He had a blade and a bit of poison. It would not be unheard of for the great Khal to have gotten a small cut or two in his raid. A mild poison would make the cut fester and kill him. Being a khal he would be too stubborn to heal a small scratch. Not a single Dothraki would be suspicious, but he would suffer. Jorah would not act in this way unless Danearys ordered it of him.
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****
Some months passed. On the nights Drogo passed out drunk, or went on extended hunts, Daenerys went to Jorah's bed, or took him to hers. They were careful, and avoided being discovered.
Which was why when Drogo surged into the tent, enraged, Daenerys was totally unprepared. Drogo seized her by the hair and threw her from the tent, out where everyone could see. Daenerys tried to plead with Drogo, but he backhanded her, splitting her lip.
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Drogo glared at Jorah. "Move aside," He growled in Dothraki. "The silver woman has been unfaithful. She has taken a lover to my bed. Step aside, Jorah the Andal."
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A part of Jorah hoped the man would be enraged enough to press for more. It would give him an opportunity to challenge the Khal and seem forced to do so to uphold Westerosi honor.
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He glared down at the other man. "You are quick to defend her. Could you be the perpetrator? Are you the one fucking my wife?" Drogo demanded, bringing his curved blade up to Jorah's throat.
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