Moonbloom

Moonbloom

Summary: Your daughter accompanies Aemond through the various stages of your pregnancy.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Pure fluff. Dad Aemond.

A/N: Can be read as part 2 of Of Flowers & Dragons, but also as a stand-alone. Hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 1.5k

It had been decided the previous day with Aemond that you’d tell her today.

The maesters had advised against it in case something went wrong as it had only been a couple of moons, but after weeks of withholding such information, today felt like the appropriate day.

Besides, you were starting to show.

Thankfully, Aemond was around already spending time with your daughter in the Red Keep’s gardens.

Targaryens took to the skies on their dragons, but she insisted on having her hands in soil and dirt, bringing seeds to life.

You watched from the balcony as your daughter of six knelt on the floor, hands and silver hair covered in dirt as she tended to her pots of colourful flowers.

Aemond stood nearby, looking elegant as ever.

But as you paced down the stone steps towards them, it was made clear both of them were bickering in High Valyrian.

A smile formed on your lips from the exasperated look on his face.

It was to be expected, after all.

Two dragons with fiery tempers were bound to clash.

He suddenly removed the tie that held his hair back and lowered himself to eye-level with the young child, bringing her unruly strands into a high knot.

She huffed in annoyance, pushing his hands away. “Kepa!”

It filled you with nothing but joy to watch his face soften into an adoring smile.

Noticing your presence, she stuck out her tongue at him in a clear display of defiance and ran to you.

Her cheek was soon pressed to your belly, short arms enveloping you into a tight hug, a single cutting of Moonbloom tucked behind her ear.

“Muña!” she beamed, rubbing stains of dirt into your dress. “Look at my garden! Grandmother says it’s the prettiest in King’s Landing.”

You ran your hands along her head, tidying a few strands in place. “Queen Alicent is absolutely correct.”

Aemond joined you, planting a tender kiss to your forehead, his now loose hair tickling your face. “Do we tell her?”

She pouted. “Tell me what?”

He crouched at her side, bearing the faintest smile, but enough to send your stomach into a lurch. “You wanted a sibling—”

But before Aemond could carry on, your daughter broke into a deafening shriek, causing birds in nearby trees to take flight.

Her mouth was left hung open in sheer excitement as Aemond placed her tiny hand on your discreet bump.

Lilac eyes widened and locked with his. “You planted a seed in mother!”

Her high-pitched remark turned a few heads and you could immediately spot panic settling on his handsome face.

“Sīr eglie daor,” he said, lowering his own voice. “Not so loud, little one.”

But your daughter cared not for manners in that moment and brought both hands to your belly, glaring at it in confusion.

“When do I get to meet my sibling?”

“Not for a few moons,” you told her.

She planted a soft kiss atop your bump. “Do I have to water it?”

You chuckled. “It won’t be necessary.”

Aemond placed his own hand next to hers. “All you have to do is aid me in taking care of your mother so she can take care of your sibling.”

Pressing another kiss, she glared at him. “That is all?”

He nodded. “Are you up for this very important, challenging, and difficult task?” he said dramatically while narrowing his eye.

She balled one fist and raised it high, her face twisting into a defiant smile. “Yes!”

☾

Aemond came walking in, footsteps as light as feathers as he paced across the poorly lit bedchamber, carrying his daughter.

You propped yourself on an elbow to better take in the adoring sight of the young prince holding his daughter against his chest, her face resting on his shoulder as her arms dangled with each step.

“Maybe we should have waited,” you whispered as he came to sit at the edge of the bed.

He shook his head. “Dawn is breaking.”

She was still fast asleep, but you had made a promise to her and promises are to be kept.

Aemond made sure of that.

He tried lowering her to lay next to you, but she immediately clamped her arms around his neck, whining softly.

Silently, he loosened her grip and brought her down next to your prominent belly.

She whined once again from the sudden lack of warmth he had provided, but soon shifted to curl into you.

“Wake up…” you said, dragging the back of your hand across her cheek.

Aemond pushed your nightgown up to expose your skin to her touch. “Byka Zaldrīzes…”

Little dragon.

That term of endearment was reserved for special moments, so he had once told you.

This was one of those.

Slowly but surely, you daughter stirred from her sleep, rubbing both hands across her fluttering eyelids.

With a jaw-popping yawn she stretched herself into your belly and, through sleepy eyes, she glared at Aemond in confusion.

“The babe is kicking,” he said.

The effect of those words was immediate and she promptly placed both hands on your belly.

She had made you promise you would let her know when you felt the first kicks, but nothing could have prepared you for how endearing it was to witness your daughter glaring expectantly, dragging her tiny palms across the stretched skin.

The babe kicked harshly inside you and you saw her eyes widen. “I felt it!”

Aemond’s eye was on yours and the glare he offered you made your heart swell with adoration.

If someone had told you that a few years ago Aemond would have traded early morning sword practice for time with his family, you’d ask them not to be absurd.

He placed a large hand on her back, rubbing her gently as she dove into a monologue with her sibling.

“You are very impatient,” she whispered as if she hand suddenly entered a world that was only theirs. “Must be dark in there… but you’ll come out soon and I’ll even let you tend to my flowers.”

Aemond chuckled. “Even your precious moonbloom pots?”

She paused in contemplation.

“… yes,” she ended up saying. “But only after making sure they’d be left intact,” she concluded with a determined smile.

“No harm would come to your flowers, sweetling,” he said, placing his other hand on your hip, his thumb rubbing your skin absentmindedly. “Besides, Uncle Daeron would have more shipped from Oldtown if something were to happen.”

The babe rammed into you once again, startling your daughter. “Was I also like this?”

“Very much so,” he said. “You were bent on not letting your mother rest properly… and, by extension, me.”

Her face lightened up. “I will ask grandmother if you were the same way, kepa.”

A smile curled his lips and lit a fire in you.

☾

Your second labour went by much faster than your first one and, by the time you felt the babe’s pushing down, no guards or handmaids were able to contain your daughter from sneaking inside the busy chamber.

Aemond was at your side every step of the way and made no further effort at keeping the young Targaryen at bay.

Wide-eyed and in complete silence, she strode forward to stand by your side, gripping two flower crowns in her hand.

“Push, my lady,” the maester urged. “Push, push!”

You were fortunate to have your husband sitting behind you, holding you in place and silently being the source of strength you required to push through the final moments.

Through gritted teeth, you mustered the last remnants of vigour within you and tried your best to heed the maester’s words.

Sweat rolled down your face and with a final scream, you felt the pain down below ease and the pressure vanish.

“A boy!” the old man said as he wrapped the babe with cloths

You slumped into Aemond’s chest, breathing heavily as tears rushed from your eyes.

An angry cry tore through the room as the young dragon announced himself to the world around him.

“Do you wish for me to take her outside for a while, my prince?” one servant asked, gazing at your daughter.

“Leave her be,” you heard Aemond snarl as she looped one arm around yours, holding on tightly.

She bared her teeth dramatically, frowning deeply at the failed attempt to have her taken away from your side.

As soon as they managed to cut the cord, another handmaid brought the babe to your arms, turf of silver hair sticking to his tiny head.

Relief washed over you as you embraced your son near your flustered chest.

Thorough your hazy state of mind, you didn’t even notice your daughter was holding out one moonbloom flower crown to you.

She seemed hesitant… even tense.

“Thank you, my love…” you breathed out, allowing her to place it on your head. “Thank you…”

“Can I…”

Your eyes shot to her lilac ones as she pouted, holding yet another flower crown, but a much smaller one this time.

“Made it with kepa…”

Aemond planted a long kiss to the top of your head before taking the crying babe into his arms and lowering him just enough for her to peak through with a gasp.

“Ooooh…”

Surprisingly, the babe’s cries came to a sudden halt when she placed the crown on top of the cloth wrapped around him.

One handmaiden placed a damp rag to your forehead and you sighed as your daughter carefully ran teo fingers along his face.

“Do you think he’ll like me?”

Aemond pulled her close to him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “He already does.”

<3

2x13 || 3x10 || 3x13

you, bitch. he's expecting YOU.

2x01 || 2x03 || 2x07

Inexperience

Summary: You have often wondered how it feels to pleasure a man, so you take it up with Aemond.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Inexperienced reader. Friends to lovers (if you squint). Handjob. Masturbation.

Word count: 2k

“You’re doing it again.”

Aemond’s velvety voice snapped you from your intrusive thoughts state at once.

Inwardly scolding yourself, you shifted your attention back to the embroidery in your hands.

You weren’t being exceptionally subtle when it came to staring at him.

And Aemond’s observational skills were far too perfected for your own good.

“I apologise,” you said quietly.

Even from the corner of your eye you could see an intriguing smile on his lips as he lifted his eye from the book. “As you wish, my lady.”

You felt a rush of heat pool in your face. Even after years of growing up with Prince Aemond and tearing down any walls that were built from the unavoidable hierarchical imbalance, he would always know how to get under your skin.

The two of you would spend long hours in the fireplace room after supper, enjoying the calmness and silence. You’d be entertained with your embroideries while Aemond took his time diving into history and philosophy books.

A very intriguing young man he was.

In fact, he was just as intriguing as he was perceptive, which was why it didn’t surprise you that he had caught on to you occasionally glaring at him.

Not just him.

His body.

Quite frankly, the burning curiosity inside you begged you to just ask. It could be considered improper, but your mind kept wondering how.

How did he do it?

How did it feel like?

What was the worst that could happen should you ask these questions?

The matter of intimacy was all but known to both of you. He’d often invade your dreams with kisses and moans, but you didn’t dare reveal any of that to him. Sometimes, when about to doze off, you’d wonder whether it was reciprocal.

Not that it mattered. Your father would one day marry you off to some lord in some decaying castle never to cross paths with Aemond Targaryen ever again.

So you might as well ask and it was apparent that your body language betrayed your forced calm demeanour as it was enough to get his attention.

“Why are you so tense?”

You jolted in your seat, nearly jabbing the needle in your finger. “I am not tense at all,” you offered a smile.

“Lying is very unbecoming of you,” he said, flipping through a couple of pages. “Whatever is on your mind, you can share with me.”

You straightened in your seat, lowering your faze to the flowers you were carefully threading with your needle. Given the current circumstances, embroidery seemed far more inviting in comparison with having to deal with a suspicious Aemond.

“Take your time,” he said, not tearing his eye from the book and drumming his fingers on the padded armrest.

“I… it is nothing, Aemond.”

If you thought that was enough to shake him off, you were dead wrong. Instead, Aemond heaved a deep sigh and closed the book on his lap, staring intensely at you.

You tried your best to ignore his penetrating glare, but all to no avail.

“Do you take me for a fool?” he asked, but there no hint of annoyance in his voice.

If anything, he seemed deeply amused.

“What do you—”

Aemond interrupted you at once. “I’ve noticed the way you’ve been staring at me as of late.”

You looked at him wide-eyed. “Staring?”

“Subtlety isn’t your strongest suit.”

His eye was studying your every move and you had to be the inside of your cheek in frustration. More at yourself than at him, if you were being honest. You knew he wasn’t who was easily fooled, but you had also not expected that all the glaring had become that noticeable.

“It is nothing,” you said, feeling droplets of sweat coating the pads of your fingers, staining the coloured thread.

“You keep staring at my hands. Why?”

He had beautiful hands, indeed.

“For no reason.”

“Lie to me one more time and I will not have you riding Vhagar with me again.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He clicked his tongue. “Do not try me.”

Your heart clenched as your felt trapped. “It’s nothing much,” you lowered your voice and glanced around to make sure no unwanted visitors were present. I was just wondering how it feels when you... uh... when you... do it.”

Aemond’s eyebrow arched. “Do... what?”

You weren’t sure if he was genuinely unaware of the implication, or if he was just pretending in order to get you riled up. However, were willing to bet on the latter.

“Hmm... you know...” you said, feeling your face burn hot from embarrassment. “How does it feel when you… hmm… pleasure yourself,” you finally managed to get the words out but quickly added, “Just curious… because… hmmm… just curious and—”

You cut yourself off, realising you were now rambling.

Tense moments ticked by and you noticed Aemond Targaryen was visibly amused. “Is this your subtle way of asking me to touch myself in front of you?”

Panic immediately hit you hard. “Of course not! Why would I want to see that? How — how is that—what? — I was merely wondering.”

He placed the heavy book on the table by his side, as his lips curled into a smile. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

You shot him a death glare. “If you don’t want to tell me just say that.”

“I do not indulge in such depravities.”

“Lies,” you threw at him in disbelief. “I do not believe you.”

“Lies? Well, it does take one to know one, I reckon.”

You bit the inside of your cheek once at the remark regarding your earlier failed attempt at deception.

“There is no need to get tense,” Aemond said, standing up to take a seat in the nearby velvet-padded settee.

“I’m really not.”

“We all have urges, I suppose,” he then shrugged, staring at his own hands. “I have never done this with someone else. It could be… interesting.”

“You could simply tell me how it feels or how you do it,” you said, mouth turning dry. “Besides, we would not be doing anything here.”

“Why tell you when I can show you?”

He could not be serious…

“The doors are closed,” he said, extending one hand to you. “No one comes here this late at nigh. Come here.”

Your feet brought you to him before you could even process what was happening. “I was having a serious conversation and you’re now talking about your… your…” you pointed at his crotch as you say by his side.

This time he arched an eyebrow at you. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. Weren’t you the one who wanted to know how it feels like?”

Point taken. “Yes, but—”

“So what do you want me to talk about?” Aemond asked, lips turning into a devious grin.

“You are being vulgar.”

“You started this conversation, my lady,” he pointed out. “You’re the one who’s being vulgar.”

There was no way around it. You were definitely making things worse for yourself. This had started off innocently enough, but he was easily bending the conversation to his will.

You decided to ignore his remark and had your eyes on the lit fireplace in front of you, determined to enjoy the way the flames danced around and burned through the wood.

But Aemond was relentless.

“I can show you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You awaited for him to quickly take that back as a joke, but that moment never came.

He was dead serious.

“No, thank you,” you breathed, still not daring to look at him.

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind taking a peak, but you couldn’t just admit to that. What if it made things awkward between you? What if you had crossed a line you weren’t sure you could go back from?

You kept your eyes firmly locked on cackling fire, but you could feel him shift beside you. It was probably a bad idea to dart your eyes to the side to watch as his legs lazily sprawled out from the settee, with and one hand resting on his belt.

You jolted when you saw him extend his hand to you. “You may touch it.”

This was definitely not what you had in mind. “Uh...”

He chuckled briefly. “It is my hand, not my cock.”

Your chin nearly dropped at his crass words and you frowned. “It’s simply genuine curiosity.”

He chuckled. “And I’m here willing to satisfy that curiosity. We have shared a friendship for many years,” he said, voiced coated in tones of warm honey. “If you are to learn about such things, I’d rather be the one enlightening you.”

It was such an unexpected and truthful statement, you felt your heart soar.

But as satisfying as it was to hear such words from him, you still had a shred of dignity left. “What if someone comes in?” you hissed in a low voice, eyes roaming across the room.

“We can be discreet,” he said. “Have you forgotten the many times we hid under beds after raiding the kitchen? No one would ever find us and those apples tasted ten times better.”

The memories of your shared youth tugged gently at your heartstrings.

“But we’re not hiding.”

Aemond brought a finger to trace the back of your hand. “We don’t have to. Not anymore.”

You swallowed hard hand watched as he offered you his hand at first. Without failt, your heartbeat sped up instantly, but you did your best to ignore it as you inspected his hand. His palm was turned upwards, giving you access to his warm skin.

“Can I...?”

Aemond had his head on the backrest, half-hooded eye still on you. “Yes.”

Holding the back of his hand in yours, you let your index finger slowly drag across it.

You could have sworn you heard the faintest sound come from him.

His skin felt really warm to the touch, nearly

“Is this alright?” you asked, halting briefly and studying his face.

“Carry on.”

But then something else in your field of vision caught your attention.

The hand he had resting on his belt drew you to look a bit further down and—

“Aemond?” your sudden gasp had him staring at you. “How are you...”

He bent his neck to stare down at the bulge in his pants. “I have no control over it.”

You wanted to be outraged, but this made you feel empowered and did wonders to your ego. You wanted to let go of his hand and be done with... whatever this was.

But you didn’t dare break contact with him.

If anything, the grip on his hand only intensified.

“Keep going… I can get harder than this.”

Gods. His hoarse voice immediately caused your thumb to resume the soft strokes along the palm of his hand.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you were no longer bothered in concealing how much your body craved more of him.

And just like Aemond had promised, you were able to see his cock growing harder and even twitching slightly each time you applied a certain amount of pressure on his skin.

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants.

You wanted more.

No.

You needed more.

Apparently, the feeling was mutual as he had his fingers on the buckle of his belt, tugging on it. The sight had your mouth watering. The not so subtle bulge was clearly making him uncomfortable in a way and in eye you detected undeniable lust.

You couldn’t help but shift closer to him, and the motion triggered him into undoing his belt. Once he got it out of the way, he unbuttoned his pants.

He heaved a deep sigh of relief at sudden relief of tension.

“Maybe we should stop?”

“Do you want to?” he asked, gently fiddling with the waistband of his pants.

No. “It’s just... what if someone—”

“You keep sabotaging yourself,” he groaned in exasperation.

“But... if someone comes in...”

He growled. “I will behead them.”

Your eyes widened in sudden horror.

“I am not being serious,” he finally added, offering you a grin. “Just enjoy this.”

In one switft motion, he pulled the fabric down, freeing his hard cock.

“Oh...”

You had never seen one before. It looked intimidating and you tried to do something other than just glare, but you couldn’t quite believe in what was happening just yet.

“Such a pretty mouth...” he observed as his eye dropped to your lips and wrapping his fingers around himself.

Your clit was pulsing as your walls clenched and pushed out more and more wetness to coat your folds.

Aemond started pumping his cock in a lazy rhythm, eye fully locked with yours. You saw a few beads of a clear liquid pooling around the tip.

“Keep touching me…”

“I... I...” you sounded like a fish out of water.

He tightened the grip on his cock, forcing more of the liquid to come out. That’s when it started sliding down and onto his knuckles.

“Keep going…”

It was clear he was getting impatient and the strain in his voice hit your brain, causing you to straighten before bringing the palm of his hand to your lips.

You made sure he kept his eye on you when you started pressing soft kisses to each finger.

“Good...” he praised and encouraged, bringing the palm of his other hand to rub on the tip of his cock.

He had his wetness smeared across his skin and you kept on kissing him until he dragged his hand down to pump his cock once again.

“Let me feel you,” he panted, squeezing himself tighter. “I want to feel you.”

You presse one last kiss to the palm of his hand. “What?”

It was his turn to grip your hand. “Let me fuck your hand.”

Oh… Gods…

You felt a load of wetness leak from you it’d be a miracle if you managed to somehow finish this without having your own dress completely soaked.

He guided you down to his crotch, letting go of his cock only to have your own hand wrapping around him, drawing a beautiful hiss from him.

The sudden urge to kiss him took over your senses, and just as the thought flooded your mind your body promptly acted in it, and you crashed your lips onto his.

He was definitely caught by surprised, but had no problem reciprocating the same hunger and lust you felt for him by having his tongue against yours.

You allowed him to guide your hand up and down his cock with his own, feeling his grip increase. He set up a very slow rhythm as if making the most out of this moment.

“Tighter...” he moaned in between a sloppy kiss.

Your fingers promptly squeezed around him. He had been leaking so much that it didn’t take long before your own hand was drenched in his wetness.

It was hard to focus on his cock when he was completely robbing you of air, refusing to break the kiss.

When he finally let go of your lips, you saw him staring down at his cock fucking your hand. You could feel his breath come out in pants when he started lifting his hips to set a new tempo.

“Is… is this how you do it?” you said innocently.

Aemond’s eye closed shut and that was the best reply he could have given you.

You absentmindedly brought your free hand to roam under your dress and to your undergarments. Your wetness was sipping through the fabric, your pussy clenching at the thought of one day having him take your maidenhead.

You didn’t even notice that he had undone his coat and lifted his shirt, exposing his abdomen as it flexed with each snap of his hips, a sheer coat of sweat forming as he sped up.

“Are you tighter than this?” he groaned.

How could someone be this… alluring?

He kissed you again, his hand gripping yours tighter once again.

But you needed more of him.

You pushed him away for a moment so you could swing one leg over his waist, effectively sitting on his crotch. Lifting your dress, you revealed your soaked undergarments. Aemond was shamelessly glaring at the stain that was spreading across the fabric.

“Be quiet,” you told him, squeezing his cock as a warning.

“I said nothing,” he said with a knowing smile.

You needed the friction on your clit and this new position would grant you that. With each thrust from him, your clit was being pressed gently, and you couldn’t help the deep moan that slipled through your mouth.

Aemond finally let go of his grip in you and brought both hands to frame your face, once again draining your lungs from air as he pulled you into a scorching kiss.

You never thought you’d be this close to release, but that was the least of your concerns. You wanted to watch that beautiful man unravel before your eyes.

He kept on thrusting into your hand, and when he pulled away you knew he was close. You took some time to admire how his beautiful face twisted in pleasure, mouth parted into laboured gasps.

“Faster...” he urged you and you were more to glad to oblige.

You were now familiar with what made him groan deeper, gasp louder, and roll his hips higher. It took him only a few more moments before his thrusts started faltering, and he had to bite the back of his hand to keep himself from groaning out loud as hot spurts of cum started shooting against your undergarments. You shuddered as the head of his cock pressed into your clit and his warm released sipped into the fabric.

You tumbled forward to rest your head against his shoulder, not even concerned about the mess.

“That was…” he let out, chest heaving rapidly.

“Can we do this again?”

You felt his chest rumble into yours. “Give me some time to recover… you just emptied me…”

Despair

Summary: Aemond craved you to the point of despair.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Masturbation. Aemond’s POV. Breeding kink.

Word count: 800

Keep readingAemond should have more resilience.

He wished his body and mind would agree on this much.

He wished he had the will to rein in his lust for you.

He wished he could have all of you.

Instead, he was left to handle this nuisance on his own.

Aemond heaved a deep sigh as he wrapped his fingers around his throbbing cock.

Fucking his hand would never come close to how he envisioned fucking you.

Even as he tightened the grip around him as a reminder of how tight you were, it wasn’t enough.

You were too tight.

He had relished his fingers inside your several times to know you’d fit his cock perfectly.

The mere memory of having your walls clenching around his fingers — as he uttered profanities in your ear in some dark corridor of the Red Keep — was enough for a deep moan to leave his parted lips.

The need to be fully inside him consumed him day and night.

As the first droplets of precum pooled at the tip, Aemond knew his body was starting to respond to that need.

He could be patient and wait for you to be ready to take him.

It would require skill and no less amount of time to have your pussy dripping for him.

Droplets of precum rolled down his cock, coating his fingers and knuckles as he pumped himself slower, yearning to know how it’d feel to slide inside you for the first time.

“Fuck…”

His hips rose from the bed so he could gently push his cock deeper into his grip, the image of you on top of him nearly overtaking his senses.

There was no denying nothing else had such a hold on him. He couldn’t wait to be be buried inside you, filling you with his seed. He’d give it all to you. Every last drop.

He’d have you full to the brim with him so Gods helped him.

The strokes quickened and wet sounds soon echoed through the room, gradually bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

It didn’t take much to get his release these days.

Not when the pent up despair and lust for you had reached dangerously high levels.

Aemond slumped into his bed, focused on having his hand glide along his cock in blinding delight.

“Prince Aemond?”

He snapped his eye open at once, freezing in place.

Another light knock on the door.

His torment was suddenly on the other side.

You.

“Prince Aemond,” your sweet voice tried once again. “We are about to break fast.”

He would have melted from the innocence that coated your voice had it not been for his cock demanding his attention.

“Prince Aemond?”

Aemond contemplated letting you inside to witness his thirst for you, but he was too close to hold back.

He simply would burst at the mere sight of you.

As such, his hand resumed a steady pace, further bringing him closer to the edge.

He just needed your voice for now.

Trying to control his ragged breaths and moans, he finally spoke, “What is it?”

“We are about to break fast,” you said, your voice was as honey to his ears, unknowingly urging him to go faster. “Are you coming?”

The unfortunate choice of words drove him to bring the back of his hand to his lips, sinking his teeth into the skin.

He was so close.

Too close.

“Is everything alright, my prince?”

Gods.

You were so fucking sweet.

Not able to hold back any longer, Aemond set a final rhythm with his slender fingers gripping his cock tighter than ever.

“Yes…” Aemond moaned through gritted teeth.

“So you’re coming?”

“Yes!” he grunted lowly.

Aemond felt the familiar licks of bliss wash over his entire body in a sudden heat wave as your voice guided him through it. His hips stilled violently and he felt the first streaks of warm cum coat his exposed lower abdomen, some even reaching his hardened nipples.

His breath came out in shallow pants and he dropped his hand to the side as the other milked the last drops of his release.

All of it going to waste, unfortunately. You would have looked glorious with his cum dripping from your face, breasts, belly…

Or better yet…

Having it neatly stuffed inside you in the hopes he’d get to see you swell with his child.

hannigram — S1  HANNIBAL (2013-2015) / S2, S3