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Rhaenerya’s eyes slowly came to a close as she exhaled deeply, her hand coming to a rest on the remarkable swell that was her belly. The shock that she was large as she was didn’t ever truly wear off, and knowing she would only continue to grow baffled and intrigued her. She simply did not know how big the babe could possibly get without tearing her asunder. Each of her babes was bigger than the last, and this being her first with Daemon and their combined Targaryen genes would prove the most vital of them yet.
It had been seven months with this babe and he was as fierce as his father, constantly turning and nudging and thumping her from the inside with his small hands, elbows, knees, and feet. He slept mainly during the day, when she was up and about doing her daily tasks; the maesters said the swaying of her body was as to a cradling of arms, gently rocking her to sleep. The nights, however, were endless— filled with trips to empty her never quelled bladder in the privy, the aches and pains in her legs and back to which there were no sating, and her son, constantly thrashing and making his presence known to her and her prince, who enjoyed every single second of their active child’s mobility.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t lived through this before— he was her fourth, after all. But each child was as different in the womb as they were once born. She knew this one would be strong, imperious, and ever demanding. She simply could not wait.
“You should be asleep,” came the gentle murmur from her husband as he entered their bedchamber. She didn’t open her eyes but let a soft smirk grace her lips as she listened to the telltale pull of his tunic and small clothes from his body.
“Tell that to your son,” came her quip and Daemon quietly chuckled as he climbed into the giant four poster next to her, his hand stealing its way across her taught stomach, coming to a stop as a soft kick marred her skin.
“Little dragon, are you pestering your mother again?” He cooed, his voice like silk as he ever so softly rubbed the offended area. She felt the babe turn over inside her, as if offended by the question and she chuckled.
“He could not pester me any more than you or our other children do. He is flesh of our flesh, my prince.”
Daemon made a small hum, giving her a smile that turned her heart into a fiery thumping mess, setting her cheeks aflame. She wondered idly if she would ever stop feeling like a maid of fifteen with him, aware of every movement or expression that would cross his face. His touch alone did more than any other lover ever had, even when innocently caressing her as he did now. She felt the familiar ache between her legs begin to reach a high point and she swiftly turned to him, pressing her lips to his throat.
His small gasp of breath only spurned her forward, her hands moving firmly across the muscles of his chest and sides, finding their way to the already hardening cock between his legs. Silky to the touch and prettier than it had right to be, his manhood had only grew more compelling to her since it had placed a babe inside her belly.
“Ao issi nykeā wanton mirre,” |You are a wanton thing|”he purred, his eyes fluttering as her hand began to stroke his cock in earnest, the wetness between her thighs already becoming slick just from touching him. His hand delved between her legs and began to circle at her clit, causing her to mewl in response; Rhaenrya was already so sensitive and swollen she could hardly stand it. “Sīr lustful se ready syt issa, issa dāria.” |So lustful and ready for me, my queen.|
The endearment of her title and his movements were causing her to burn, hotter than the dragon fire that already ran through her veins. He was a menace— he knew exactly what speaking in high Valyrian did to her, and to do it while touching her!
She rolled herself into his lap, straddling him justly with his cock now pressed tightly against her cunt. His hands immediately seeking her enlarged breasts, thumbs and forefingers tweaking at her ever tender nipples, causing her to throw her head back and moan.
“Ao gīmigon nyke ry aōhon. Līs nyke beg syt aōha pleasure?” |You know I am all yours. Must I beg for your pleasure? |
“Bona iksos skorkydoso ao jiōraton naejot sagon isse bisa condition, iksos ziry daor?” |That is how you got to be in this condition, is it not? | Daemon smirked roguishly, now squeezing at her backside tightly and giving a quick slap. She hissed and rutted herself against him, grabbing at his wrists and pinning him down. Cutting her eyes at him, he merely simpered at her, unafraid of her volatile temper.
“Lo ao gaomagon daor—“ |If you do not—|
Rhaenrya was cut off as he swiftly thrust his cock inside her, immediately eliciting sounds of pure ecstasy from the pair. He had bottomed out inside her cunt and was staying there, letting her adjust before he began to roll his hips against hers.
“And what was that? Hmm? Threatening your uncle? What ever were you planning to do? Take me without my consent? So filthy, my niece.”
Each word in his last sentence was punctuated by a mighty thrust of his cock, his hands gripping her hips tightly as to not allow her any respite. He’d abandoned high Valyrian, but she did not care, caught up in the bliss that he was drawing out of her body.
Her hands were pressed flat against his chest, keeping her upright astride his cock as he moved inside her. Rhaenrya bit her lip and let out a pitiful whimper, no longer in charge of her lover. He was driving into her without abandon, his face contorted fiercely with a mixture of lust and awe. His hair was scattered across the pillows and his eyes gleamed amethyst, causing her to shudder intensely at his gaze.
“I am, uncle, oh, I ammm-“ she could not speak any longer, as he’d snaked his hand to her clit and was rubbing double time with his thrusts. She knew what bringing up their familiar relation in bed did to him: the same as it did to her.
“You will cum for me, Rhaenrya. Cum for me with that babe in your belly, cum for me like the night I put him inside you!”
It was a blinding crash, her cunt clamping down on his cock with a resolute motion, ready to milk the seed of of him. She was pushed beyond her limit, her body shaking with the overwhelming orgasm.
“Daemon, I cannot take much more!” She cried, his cock unceasing as he rammed relentlessly into her tight cunt.
“You will, I am not finished with you yet, niece,” he growled lowly, rolling her gently onto a pillow to cushion her belly, he began to stroke into her from behind. His hands palmed at her backside and gripped harshly, a moan slipping from her throat in response. “You love it when I take you like this, don’t you? Like you’re my insipid, beautiful whore.”
He was hitting a spot inside her that was causing her to see stars, her knees barely supporting her on the bed as she splayed into the pillow he’d used to support her stomach. Rhaenrya’s mind was becoming blank, the vicious white hot pleasure melting her bones and making her nerve endings only.
She pushed herself back against him unthinkingly, willing to take as much as he was willing to give.
“Darling, I’m so close!” came her drawn out wail, her overly sensitive body making it’s inevitable path towards her second climax.
Daemon’s hips began to stutter into an impossible rhythm, his breath coming out ragged. “Yes, beautiful, yes, my love, cum for me and I will be right with you!”
“Daemon!”
His hips slammed into her a final pass and they moaned in sync, her cunt pulling every last drop of his seed from his still hard cock. He rested his forehead against her back for a moment, his breath coming in quick succession against her skin. Daemon began dropping sweet kisses up to her neck, drawing her sweaty hair away to continue his meanderings.
“Ao issi drējī nykeā pendagon, issa dāria,” |You are truly a wonder, my Queen | he murmured, turning them on their sides, his cock gently slipping out of her. She hummed in response, reaching back to touch his face as he buried his head into her neck, spooning her.
“Hae issi ao, issa dōn,” |As are you, my sweet | came the tired reply, the young woman’s eyes drifting shut in complete and total comfort. The prince smirked, knowing this was one of the only ways to put both babe and wife to bed. He didn’t mind in the slightest, never tiring of his wife’s ripe and lush body.
He pressed a kiss to her temple, murmuring, “ēdrugon sir, issa gevie ābrazȳrys,” |Sleep now, my beautiful wife | tucking her even closer to his body, his hands coming to cradle her belly. No kick came but he rubbed softly all the same, his own eyes closing in visions of what his and Rhaenrya’s babe would look like at long last coming.