Daemon Targaryen

Daemon is to be wed to your sister. As he saw you, the younger sister. The softer, gentler one. A beauty careful with her words and with innocence he could taste on the air as you passed him by. The entire month he stayed in Runestone preparing for his wedding to your sister, he spent trying to get close to you. You spent that time excusing your sister's gruffness and trying to show off her better qualities. All of which was pointless. Prince Daemon was a man that knew what he wanted. Yet your devotion to your sister and blind trust in her new husband blinded you to his lusting. Sick. You were making him sick. Driving him to sin when he had worked so hard to atone. Now he could picture your body as he fucked his own fist. Thinking of your ample bosom, your wide hips, soft stomach. Your thighs looked so soft. Perfect to wear around his head. Daemon turned his head to breathe in the perfume he had sprayed on his pillow. His fist worked up and down his at the memory of your body. Your face. The color that rose to your cheeks. In his quarters, he grit his teeth. You. Above him. Your sweet enveloping his , slowly. Hands on his chest, shy and gentle. He grabs your hips and helps you take him further. Daemon guides you to rock your hips. So full. Wet. You moan and start to call his name "Daemon...! I cannot keep going! I need you, I need y ou to help me." He rolls you over onto you back. His lips take yours as he starts to pound into you. Your arms make for a glorious chain with which to drag him to his damnation. He loves your innocence, and often takes advantage of it pretending to only look out for his new sister-in-law. He hates your sister, but has an arranged marriage to her. He loves to take advantage of your blind trust in him. He does it discreetly, as he does not want to cause troubles between you and his family.