Chapter Text
December 1890,
The night was freezing this December in Winterfell, the small town on the north where the rich of the southern cities owned their vacation homes.
They had started to arrive only a few days ago, the celebration of the father that was a breath away was always connected to their arrival which was why he preferred Winterfell in summer. In summer the cold was welcoming and the people counted in one hand.
But he was one of the rich people himself, therefore he had obligations, or at least that was what his father told him when he shared that he planned to host a ball to honor his friends’ arrival.
That is how he found himself standing in the big ballroom of their mansion, dressed in his traditional furs and that warm leather from Pentos, among people he didn’t even want to look at.
His siblings had wandered off, mingling in the crowd, leaving him by his father’s side to greet the guests. He focused on the strong drink in his hand, hardly granting the friends of his father more than a smile, he had a long day, this was definitely not what he needed and it was about to get worse. He knew it would, all those “feasts”, as his father called them, were the same.
It was Mrs Karstark that walked to them next, with a plastered smile on her lips and a glass of whiskey already in her hand. Of all the rich people he despised, at least Mr Karstark was a fun drunk.
“Ned, so nice seeing you again dear. And you as well Jon.” Her high pitched voice filled the room and Jon simply offered a tight smile while nodding, hoping it would be enough. “I hear you’re trying to invent something, is that right?”
“My boy leaves the house before the sun rises and returns when the sun sets.”
“Admirable, such dedication.” Jon bit the inside of his cheek trying not to laugh, he was terrified that the lie he told would blow up in his face at some point. But he was always a curious boy growing up and when he told his father he wanted to invent a new device that would help with the sharp cold of the north it made sense. His father didn't think of it twice and proceeded to brag about it to all of his friends. One year later and everything was going well, no one had a clue, no one knew.
He thanked her and took a sip from his whiskey trying to hide his smirk behind the glass.
“Ned I hope you do not mind, I took the liberty to invite someone here tonight. This young, poor, little girl, my heart ached for that girl, she moved to Winterfell just two weeks ago, she’s from the Dargonstone. Poor little lady, she's an orphan. She was married but then her husband died in a big fire. She chose to stay in that waterfall house to be far away from everyone so they wouldn’t judge her for being a young girl and living alone.”
“Ah but that is absurd, she is a widow, who is she supposed to live with?”
“I do agree, but you know how people talk.” His father nodded and Jon sighed discreetly, bored already from the conversation. “Anyhow, I took pity on the girl and I invited her here, but she told me that she’s terrified to walk through the woods alone in the dark and who can blame her? I told her I would send someone to take her but my sons are not here yet, maybe Jon or Robb could help?” Ned nodded again as his eyes traveled to his son.
“Jon can do it.” He choked on his drink as he looked at his father with doubt written all over his face, Ned met his eyes, raising his eyebrow as if
challenging him to defy him and he sighed in defeat as he walked out of the ballroom. Usually he loved his father, but at that moment he hated him.
He walked around the forest, thankful for the perks of death as he couldn't feel the cold he was certain came with the freezing air. He missed his whiskey and he wished to be done with it quickly so he could return to the alcohol and the good music. Yes he did want to escape that ball but he definitely didn’t want to run errands.
He remembered none of that when he walked into the glade of the forest, close to the waterfall and the house, where he found a girl, not a day older than 25, her hair were long and silver, braided in patterns that belong to museums, he saw half of her face as she was leaning over some flowers, the moonlight showering her made him feel in ways he didn't dare to describe, she was beautiful, even by seeing half of her face under such dim light, he knew she was beautiful.
“My Lady?” She turned to look at him, her lilac eyes resembling rare stones from old Valyria, looking into his brown ones, her lips tugging in a soft, genuine smile and if he wasn’t dead already, he would die in this moment he thought.
“May I help you?” He took a moment, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide before clearing his throat, making her chuckle, a sweet sound like the first Sunday of spring that lingered in the air.
“You’re the new girl, correct?” she simply nodded, the hint of a smirk on her lips that he didn't know what to make of. “I’m here to take you to the ball.” She chuckled once more and he found himself drunk in the sound, eager to hear it again, to get lost on that spring Sunday and never come back.
“Miss Karstark is quite the persuasive one huh?” he laughed and she laughed along with him, he swore that he felt his heart beating. He met her gaze with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes sparkling in a way that made her knees weak and her stomach unsettled.
“My name is Jon” he said and she smiles back almost fondly, almost as if she knew him forever.
“I’m Daenerys. Well if you’re taking me to the ball just give me a moment to change into something more…”she sighed and he crooked an eyebrow, teasing her, yes almost as if they knew each other forever . “Elegant.” He simply nodded as he followed her outside of her waterfall house and waited there. His eyes never left her, mesmerized, charmed, like she casted a spell on him.
She took one last look at him as she walked inside and internally cursed herself. She should have used another excuse, not the widow one, she never regretted something like that in her life, but he was perfect. With his brown hair and warm brown eyes, his broad shoulders and his muscles that she could make out even under his traditional furs. She had lived many long years and yet she failed to remember a man more beautiful than him. She shook her head and walked inside, she was too old to be drooling over a man like she was a maiden.
While he waited for her he really tried to convince himself that it was immoral to think of her in such ways, that she was a widow and he was obviously going to make her uncomfortable but every conscious thought flew in the sky above him the moment she stepped out of the house in a beautiful purple dress, it looked Meereenese and it hugged her body in ways more perfect that he had words to describe.
She granted him a grin and did a little swirl before meeting his eyes like she was challenging him. “Well Mr Jon, how do I look? Will I fit in your ball?” he smiled as his eyes roamed with a mind of their own, looking at her from head to toe and he took a deep breath.
“Like you could ever fit in anywhere.” She raised her eyebrows and he smirked. “You would turn every head in every room you would ever walk in.” she felt herself blushing, she hadn't blushed in longer than she could remember, maybe even centuries and it somewhat terrified her, the power that a stranger had over her so she simply smiled as they took the road back to the Stark manor.
Honestly, he could not remember a time when he had more fun in one of those balls, he spent most of the evening with her, she appeared to have all the answers to all of his questions. She was different, she was experienced. She had traveled to places that he always wanted to go. When he asked her how she managed to do that she brushed it off saying that her husband was rich and they traveled the world. He didn't question her, she could tell him that it was day outside and he would believe her.
The power she had over him frightened him, she was like the sun, so tempting to let it touch his skin and yet so deadly. He shook his head as he looked at her and smiled when he found her looking at the dancers with a longing look in her eyes.
“It’s somewhat ridiculous isn’t it?” she met his brown eyes and tilted her head with a smile. “Men waltzing while wearing furs.” She threw her head back, laughing loud and clear like the summer sky, attracting some looks from the nobles close to them. “What?” he asked with a chuckle of his own, his usual brooding self gone by her side. “They haven’t decided if they’re northernmen or southerners yet, all rich people are both.”
“What’s your excuse for being both?”
“Well I was raised by rich people” she chuckled and his lips with a mind of their own tugged in a smile as they always did when he heard her laugh that night. “What’s your excuse for being both?” She hummed, lifting her glass of whiskey closer to her lips as she thought about it for a moment.
“I’ve traveled all over Westeros, and Essos for the matter”
“That’s a very good excuse.” He clicked their glasses together and took a sip as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Although I do love waltz so much, I wouldn’t care what my partner is wearing as long as it was the right partner, I don’t waltz with everyone” he took a breath, doubting, considering. The notes of a new waltz filled the room as he took a step closer to her and stretched his hand.
“Then dance with me.” She raised her eyebrows and used her glass to try and hide her smirk, he already had his answer when she failed and he saw it.
“So confident that you’re the right partner?”
“You’re worth trying” her breath caught in her throat, she didn't even notice where she rested her glass, her eyes never leaving his, eager to dance with him, to touch him for the first time, not caring if it would blow up her cover, if people would talk.
Only their fingertips met at first, tenderly, almost hesitant but it was enough for her eyes to fall close as she sensed it, as she knew, she knew what he was. She took a deep breath, disappointment, fear and anger a mix in the pits of her stomach and he raised his eyebrows, his eyes filled with worry.
“Daenerys are you alright?” she opened her eyes, for a moment she almost lost control, she thought about attacking him, but that would definitely out her as well, so she gave him her most warm smile.
“I’m fine, got a little dizzy for a moment, must be the whiskey, or you” his grin was almost convincing and it made her weak on the knees. But she knew better, she was smarter than this.
He led her to the centre of the ball room, his one hand slowly wrapped around hers as his other fell to her waist, bringing her closer, her chest pressed against his, his eyes never leaving hers. They started moving to the rhythm.
She didn't recognize herself, because she knew now and she should hate him, but her skin burnt wherever he was touching her, her heart beat faster, her legs trembled, there was a warmth in her heart that shouldn’t be there, she felt dizzy, he made her dizzy, not the spinning.
His eyes bore into hers as if he was looking at her soul, she thought they were sincere, he seemed mesmerized. For a moment she thought she was charmed until she remembered that her kind couldn't be charmed. She couldn't do anything about it in that moment either way and she was far too gone into the moment to care, so she let herself give in, just for that moment, just for that dance, she let her heart and her body rule and when it would be over her mind could regain control, but for that moment she didn't care.
And as she let herself free and relaxed in his arms, for him to spin her around the room, slowly every other person in the room disappeared. She couldn't hear them, she could only hear the music and her heart that rang to her ears, she couldn't see them, she could only see him, she couldn't sense them, she could only feel his touch. They were alone in the large ballroom, spinning, turning, feeling, she felt like she was flying.
He felt alive, more than he had ever felt, even before he died, his fingers traced her palm and she took a deep breath. He spinned her then, her back pressed against his chest and she gasped as his hand rested on her stomach while the other traced her arm tenderly like a feather before it cupped her hand and they started moving again.
His head hung to the crook of her neck, his nose close to her pulsing point and yet unafraid she simply closed her eyes, her head falling back, letting go, feeling free. He never hurt her, he simply spinned her around again as they continued to waltz alone in the room on their minds.
Eventually the music came to an end and they stopped, facing each other, frozen in their spots. They were close, too close to be considered decent. She was breathless, her chest rising and falling in a crazy rhythm as she tried to catch her breath and he seemed lost, his eyes never leaving hers and his mouth slightly open. Maybe we're both charmed somehow , she thought. Soon enough reality caught up with them, they weren't alone and everyone’s eyes were on them.
“Walk me home” she whispered and he nodded as he offered his arm.
They were silent on their way back and yet it was so comfortable, so easy, as if they’ve been doing it all their lives. She caught him glancing quite a few times, with a small smile on his lips and she couldn't stop herself from returning it. Her body was begging her to give in, to stretch her fingers only an inch and intertwine them with his, but her mind was begging her to stick to the plan.
Eventually her mind won, because when they arrived at the waterfall house and as he turned to her to bid her goodnight she began chanting a spell, like the plan said, like her brain screamed.
He felt the most horrible pain spreading on his whole body, as if demons were claiming him in that very moment while she kept chanting, moving to a nearby tree and cutting a brunch. The pain on his head stopped and he coughed as she focused on the branch, her eyes sparkling like purple stars for a moment and he watched the branch becoming sharper. His eyes opened widely, it couldn't be but before he had the chance to react the pain returned as she walked closer to him. She pushed him against a tree, her body pressed against his and the branch close, pointing to his heart. She knew, there was no other explanation.
“How the fuck do you know?” she chuckled, bringing the pain back for a quick moment, as a reminder.
“You should be smarter than to pick a fight with a witch.”
“You’re the one ready to stake me and I’m picking the fight?” she pressed the branch closer to his chest, enough to cause him pain but not to really harm him. “You’re a witch?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t know that, just tell me what you want.” He met her eyes. He should have been angry, he knew that, he should have killed her since she was trying to kill him, he should have hated her in that moment and yet he couldn't stop thinking about how close she was and how her body against him felt, how if leant in only a little he could kiss her. His eyes fell to her lips and she laughed.
“Don’t try to charm me, with magic or flirt, won’t work on me. Tell me what you want.”
“I didn’t know you’re a witch, I didn’t know, I swear.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked
“I was born and raised here, I’ve only traveled once in my life, never left Winterfell for more than a few days. I didn’t know who you were. When I came to pick you up my father made me do it, I even complained at first, certainly not complaining after that, debatable now.” He chuckled but it didn’t break her, even though every cell in her body begged her to.
“Are you hurting people?” her eyes spat fire and as much as he hated to admit it he had never wanted anyone more, than he wanted her that very same moment she threatened to kill him.
“I try to hurt people the least I can. I feed from them because I have to feed somehow but I never kill them, I heal them and then charm them to forget everything.” For some reason she believed him but she had lived long enough to know not to rely on feelings but on facts, so she wandered into the depth of his mind, into his thoughts, to figure out the truth herself. The first image she saw was him kissing her and as much as she hated to admit it, it mirrored her own first thought, she wandered until she realized he was telling the truth.
“If I found out you talked about this to anyone…”
“I won’t, I won’t, I have a secret of my own, remember? Now I very much enjoy you pressing against me but the stick could go don’t you think?” She nodded and threw the stick to the side, but even though her mentor’s voice in her head screamed in her mind to step away, she never moved. She stayed there, pressed against him, looking up at him.
“I am sorry, witches and vampires are…”his arm tangled around her waist keeping her in place, not that she had any intention of moving.
“Moral enemies I know, although...” His other hand cupped her cheek and without even thinking about it her body responded instantly by leaning into his touch. “I do believe that the relationship between the two species…” his eyes fell to her lips and she wetted them. “could use some…” he leaned closer, and she lost control as her body slowly gave in, her lips parting, her breath becoming erratic, her heartbeat fast, goosebumps on her skin, a fire ignited in the pit of her stomach and burning her insides, she longed for his kiss that she knew was coming. “diplomacy.” He whispered the word against her lips and the last shred of control left her body as her hands grabbed his arms. It seemed to be the only confirmation he needed because he crashed his lips against hers in that same moment.
Their kiss held passion, fire and hunger but at the same time tenderness, softness and even fondness, they were eager for more but they were also savoring the moment. There was a balance between so many emotions and it was beautiful and it made her warm and it made him alive.
He speeded them to the next tree, pushing her against it with more strength than he was planning to use. She broke the kiss to groan in pain and he pulled back his eyes filled with worry. She laughed as her hand traveled to the back of her head where she was hurting.
“I’m sorry, I…”
“It’s okay, just remember, not a vampire, no supernatural resistance to pain.” He chuckled and nodded.
“Noted” he said before he met her lips again, his hands grabbing her waist. His lips moved down to her neck, she tensed for a moment but he realized. “Hey” he whispered against her neck, his hands roamed her sides, traveling upwards and eventually ending up cupping her cheeks as he pulled back and met her eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His lips met her temple, so tenderly that she almost melted in his arms and he started kissing his way to her neck again slowly and whispering between his kisses that he was not going to hurt her. This time she was relaxed, calm and her hands traveled to tangle in his hair.
His mouth was skilled in her neck, creating a beautiful pattern of licks, sucks and tender kisses, no bites, she figured that was for the sake of her comfort. She couldn't help but let her mind wander on how his mouth would feel in the rest of her body as well, the thought alone lighting her up like a match, wetness pooling between her legs.
“Jon” he hummed against her neck, as if he couldn't form words. She could feel how much he wanted her as well where he was pressed against her. “Let’s go inside, I don’t want to blow up my widow cover.” He kissed her as they stumbled to the door and pushed it open.
She walked inside and she pulled him by the collar of his shirt to follow her but he didn't. She pulled back, meeting his eyes and raising her eyebrows. “What’s going on?” she asked breathlessly and he chuckled, the sound dark and promising.
“I can’t just walk in, Daenerys.” Her mind was blurry from the kiss so it took her a moment before her eyes shined as she figured it out and he laughed once more.
“Oh right, of course, come in Jon.” He rashed inside, his hand instantly around her waist and his lips back on hers as he kicked the door closed behind him.
“Bedroom?”
“Upstairs. But the door works amazingly for me as well.” he chuckled, the sound vibrating in his chest against hers and she let out a small moan.
“Greedy.” He whispered mostly to himself, his fingers tracing the shape of her swollen lips. “But I want to feast on you like you deserve it and I need a bed for that.” Her deep moan turned to a squeak as he picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist for support, even though she knew he could easily carry her on one hand. He took her upstairs, his lips never leaving her skin, she stripped him off his heavy fur on the way.
Her back hit the mattress the moment they entered the bedroom, Jon hovering over her until he was so close that the only thing she could smell was him and the only thing she could feel was him and the only thing she could see was him. He was intoxicating, his talented mouth claiming hers for one long moment before he started kissing lower, finding a sweet spot behind her ear and taking his sweet time there. Her fingers tangled in his hair, hips bucking up desperately, needy little sounds that felt like music to him leaving her lips.
“Are you planning to stay there for the entire night or something?”
“I like the meowls, but I promised you a feast didn't I?” His fingers started undoing the laces of her dress, his lips moved to the valley of her breasts that was already exposed by the low cut cleavage and she let out a shaky breath.
“Poor choice of words considering who you are.” He lifted his gaze but never his face.
“I'm not going to hurt you.”
“You can do it if it's just a bit and not with your fangs.” He growled like an animal then, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, under the material of her dress, so hard that he could leave marks, she moaned at the soft pain they brought her.
He exposed her to him, her dress pooling at her waist, he needed a moment to look at her, eyes wide and dark with lust, it made her smirk. His mouth was on her before she could whine about the sudden cease of events, his lips circling a nipple, she moaned and arched her chest closer to his mouth.
A skillful, calloused finger made its way under the skirts of her dress, finding her folds and stroking softly, teasingly, the smallest amount of pressure, it made Daenerys sigh in frustration but it made him smirk, when he found her wet.
“Would you look at that, you're dripping.” The filthy words made her clench around nothing and growl softly.
“Like you're any better.” His one finger found her clit, rubbing tender small circles, flicking it in the slowest pace.
“I'm not denying it.” He kept teasing her with his finger for a while, mouth returning to the task in hand that was her tits. She was 400 years old, yet she could not remember a time she was so turned on in her life.
“I need more, please, more.” He swallowed her pleads with his lips as that same finger entered her harshly, her sound of pleasure muffled by his mouth but he didn't need it. She clenched so hard around his finger that he knew.
“You're doing so well, I can't wait to be inside you.”
“What's stopping you?”
“I promised you something.” a second finger entered her, pumping fast and her moans increased as did her wetness around his fingers. His lips kissed their way down to her stomach, a trail of open mouth kisses with only one possible destination. “And I'm a man of my word.” he kept fucking her with his fingers and she could feel her body losing control, closing to that sweet edge that she desperately needed to fall over. But the moment she was almost there, he stopped.
“I could kill you.” He chuckled darkly as he positioned himself between her thighs, lips nipping at the soft flesh on the inside of thighs. Her legs closed around his head, trapping him there but he stayed focused on his task, which apparently was to tease the hell out of her.
“You're cumming, but you're doing it on my tongue.”
“Get to it then.” he forced her legs wider, kissing all the way to her knee.
“Witches, so impatient.” Her heel dug in his back angrily, making him chuckle. “I wanna savour you, taste every last inch of you, and make you a beautiful mess under me, so please, have patience darling.” The pet name sent a new wave of need to her core, toes curling and mind blank for one moment.
His sinful lips moved to her other leg, mirroring the same teasing game. He let himself drown in that scent of vanilla that has been teasing him all night, let himself get intoxicated until the only thing he could think about was this.
His lips were talented on her skin, no doubt of that and even though she loved the way he had taken control, she loved the way she was writhing under him, completely at his mercy, she needed more. If he was going to tease, so could she, a game for two seemed more fitting. She slowly moved her leg, more and more until she found her target, the unmistakable, large bulge on his leather pants and she started to rub. It was an awkward angle sure, but it had the effect she was hoping for, that momentary slip of control as he made a sound that barely sounded human. His hand slapped her leg away, pinning it on the mattress.
“None of that, or I'll send it all to hell and fuck you right now.”
“I'm not opposed to the idea.” He gave her a warning look, fingers hooking the material of her dress that barely covered her anymore.
“Up.” And she listened, lifting her hips to help him get the dress off her, feeling overly exposed under his hungry gaze as he took her in.
“That's just unfair. Take something off I wanna see as well.” He smirked then, losing the brown leather shirt and leaving his chest bare for her eyes to feast on. He was pale, lean and muscular and all hers, for that night at least, he was all hers.
It was when she least expected it, drunk on him when she felt it, his hands grabbing her hips, bringing her closer to him and the very first swipe of that skilled tongue against her core. She let out a loud, deep moan, fingers digging in his skull and legs closing around his head.
“Hmm, you taste so good.” A little whimper left her lips at his cold breath teasing her folds. His lips curled around her little bundle of nerves, drawing another deep moan out of her. His teasing had built her up so much that she felt like a few more seconds with his mouth on her would be enough to undo her.
“Don't you dare stop.” He didn't plan to, the sounds that came out of her made his cock twitch. He kept going with his attack, hungry mouth eating her cunt like he was a starved man, the scent of vanilla and her taste an intoxicating substance, he felt like he was already an addict.
He plunged his tongue inside her, it made her head spin. He felt her toes curling on his back, her hands pushing him closer to her cunt and heard the line of curses, ‘fucks’ and ‘gods’ falling from her lips. She was a mess under him, her neat braids were now falling, her eyes were closed and her cheeks were red as she kept writhing in the mattress, all because of him, if anything it made him eat her out with more vigor than before, determined to get her there.
She came with a cry, a scream, cunt clenching around his tongue as he licked her through it, his hands softly stroking her thighs as a reward.
“So good for me.” He whispered, his voice dripping sin as he kissed his way up her body. “You taste so good, you drive me mad.” She smiled lazily, still in the afterglow of her orgasm, disconnected from reality.
“Show me.” He claimed her lips then, like a starved man, like he wanted nothing to part them, it made Daenerys feel warm, wanted and maybe even loved. She mentally shook her head, what had gotten into her thinking like that? About a man she just met, on a place she would stay for mostly a couple of months, a man who was a vampire for gods’ sake. And yet the way he kissed her made her…
She felt his leather clothed bulge pressing against her still sensitive cunt, a hiss of pain and pleasure leaving her mouth, he loved the noises she made, wished he could hear them for the rest of eternity.
“I want to see you.” She whispered and who was he to deny her anything, getting on his knees, ready to unbutton his pants when he saw her following him.
Her lips found his neck, biting softly and then smoothing with her tongue, it made him growl and the noise ignited a new fire inside her travelling straight to her core. Her lips kissed his chest, that scar close to his heart that certainly had to be the reason for his death and down to his toned abs, tracing their lines with her tongue. Her hands traveled to his pants, unbuttoning them slowly as her lips gave tender kisses to the bare skin above them.
When she finally had him naked, her mouth watered at the sight and the size, again Daenerys had her fair share of experiences over her long life, yet Jon kept amazing her on this one night. He was big and for a moment, she questioned how he would fit. Her mouth traveled a bit lower before he stopped her, his hand cupping her cheek, thumb stroking, too tender, too intimately.
“Not this time darling.” She raised an eyebrow, ignoring how her cunt clenched around nothing, or how her heart clenched as well at the pet name, slowly rising to look into his eyes.
“Not this time? Will there be more?” He smiled softly, his hand pushing a strand of hair off her face.
“Preferably many but for now, I need to be inside you and fuck you senseless.” It was the way he was so tender as he spoke such filthy words that undid her, claiming his mouth fiercely as she lay on the bed and took him with her.
Feeling his naked body against hers for the first time felt like torture, an endless torture that would only end in one way, with getting more of him. He was hard where he was pressing against her, proof of how much he wanted her, just as much as she wanted him. She didn't need it to know though, the way he kissed her was enough for her.
“Jon.” Her voice was weak, his name a plea on her lips, soft voice, like prayer and sin at once. It made him snap and push inside her strongly, getting a yelp from her that turned into a moan. “Yes, you feel so good.” She whispered in his ear, hands desperate to bring him as close as possible.
“You too darling.” Daenerys knew she was too far gone in this man when he started to move inside her, hitting that right spot almost since the first thirst and making her see stars. He was good at this, too good . “You're doing so good for me Daenerys.” The praise sent a new wave of pleasure to her core, her hills digging in his ass pushing him closer to her.
“You can go harder on me, I won't break.” A moan vibrated on his chest as he started to fuck her harder into the mattress, his pace wild, his hands bruising her hips.
His fangs that he tried to keep hidden during their time together appeared as he started to lose control, getting closer and closer to his own climax. He turned his face away from her, afraid she would see them, afraid he would scare her. She didn't miss it, soft hands cupping his cheeks and turning it to her.
“It's alright, look at me.” He saw sincerity in her lilac eyes, as her fingers tangled in his hair. “I want to watch your face when you cum, those don't scare me.” If it was possible he picked up his pace even more, practically slamming into her, hitting that spot every time.
It didn't take long until she fell over the edge, his name a scream on her lips, her eyes locked with his and her nails digging on his back. He followed her shortly after, repeating her name as if he was casting a spell.
He prepped her face with kisses as he was softening inside her and she was coming down from her high, a soft giggle escaping her after a while. He lay beside her on the bed, taking her in his arms, her head resting on his chest and her fingers dancing like feathers on his stomach as he covered them with the furs.
“Do you want me to…” A hesitant finger was playing with her moonlight locks and she smiled tenderly as she looked up at him, the hand that was resting on his stomach found his and intertwined their fingers.
“Stay. I want you to stay.” He leaned in, leaving a sweet kiss on her forehead.
“I want that too.” She closed her eyes with a content sigh as she relaxed in his arms, spent, calm and happy.
She knew they would have one hell of a mess to deal with the next day, nobles from the ball and even worse witches from every coven in Westeros, when they found out she slept with a vampire. But those were problems for tomorrow and for that night she chose to stay in that moment with him, and she would stay forever if she could.