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Bonus: The Son of Ice and Fire, Her Dragon Prince pt.2
🕑 Added 2024-11-17 08:12:54 +0000 UTCCersei watched from the balcony overlooking the courtyard as Prince Maekar sparred with Ser Oswell Whent of the Kingsguard. Surrounding the courtyard, the lords of the Westerlands and her lesser Lannister cousins observed in awe as the Prince moved with the grace of a seasoned warrior. Every strike, every parry, seemed effortless as he danced around Ser Oswell.
She found herself enthralled, her gaze never leaving him as he fought. She watched as Ser Oswell swung his sword in a broad arc, only for Maekar to step aside with ease, delivering a swift strike that sent Oswell stumbling. The fight did not last much longer; within moments, the prince had Ser Oswell disarmed, his sword clattering to the ground. A roar of approval erupted from the gathered lords, impressed by the young prince's skill.
Maekar stepped back, offering Ser Oswell a hand. The Kingsguard knight took it with a rueful smile, accepting his defeat with grace.
“Who else will challenge me?” Maekar called out, his voice carrying over the courtyard. He turned to the gathered lords, a grin on his face, his eyes shining with excitement.
A murmur spread among the lords; some glanced at one another, others looked hesitant. Finally, one of her cousins, Ser Damon Lannister, stepped forward—broad-shouldered and confident, his face flushed with pride.
“I will take up the challenge, my prince,” Ser Damon declared, stepping into the sparring ring.
Maekar nodded, his grin widening. “Very well, Ser Damon.”
They clashed, steel meeting steel, but it quickly became apparent that Ser Damon was outmatched. Before long, Damon too was bested, sent to the ground by a well-placed strike. The crowd erupted once again in a mixture of cheers and laughter. Damon picked himself up, shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile.
“Well fought, my prince,” Damon said, bowing.
“Who else?” Maekar called, still full of energy, his eyes alight. “Who else will try their hand against me?”
Another lord stepped forward, then another, and each was defeated in turn. It was a dazzling display of Maekar's prowess; his skill with the sword was undeniable. Cersei could not help but feel the allure of it all. She noticed her daughter Myrcella standing nearby, clapping her hands, her face flushed with excitement as she watched the prince. The sight made Cersei press her lips into a thin line.
Myrcella and the prince were getting along well—too well, Cersei thought. In the week he had been here, Myrcella had charmed the prince with her grace, innocence, and beauty. The girl had fallen for him, and Cersei could see it in the way her daughter's eyes followed him, the way she hung on his every word. Yet, in that same week, Maekar had also sought out Cersei herself. They had spoken often, shared wine, and she had noticed the way he looked at her—the way his eyes lingered just a moment longer than they should. He was captivated by her beauty, as she was by his.
‘Of course he would be,’ she thought. She was Cersei Lannister, the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms. It was natural for the prince to be attracted to her, and for her to be drawn to him—she tried to justify it in her mind.
If only she were in Myrcella's place. If only Maekar had been Rhaegar's brother, she imagined. She could see herself by his side—Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, ruling with her king. The thought was intoxicating, and as much as she tried to push it away, it returned stronger each time.
“Rhaegar was a fool,” a voice said behind her, and Cersei started slightly, startled. She turned to see her father standing there, his face as unreadable as ever. She quickly composed herself, smoothing her expression.
“And why is that, Father?” she asked, her voice calm.
Tywin’s eyes remained on the sparring grounds, watching as yet another lord stepped forward to face Maekar. “He was a fool to marry his eldest to each other and leave the spare to do as he pleased,” Tywin said, his voice filled with disdain. “It was a mistake—one that we can take advantage of.”
Cersei looked at her father, her eyes narrowing. “Do you believe the king would allow such a marriage?” she asked cautiously.
Tywin's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. “There will be those at court who will try to prevent it. Lord Arryn has already made it clear he wishes to marry his daughter to the prince. And the prince's uncle, Lord Stark, wants his daughter to be considered as well.”
Cersei’s expression tightened. “I see.”
Tywin continued, his gaze still fixed on the sparring. “Even the Tyrells have made their play. The roses, ever eager for power,” he said, the disdain evident in his voice.
He turned to her then, his gaze sharp. “You must ensure that Myrcella seduces the prince. Once she has him, there will be little anyone can do. We will use it to secure the marriage.”
Cersei looked back at the prince, her eyes lingering on his broad shoulders, the confident way he moved. “The prince is still just the spare,” she said.
Tywin's smile widened slightly, his eyes glinting. “The crown prince is sickly, Cersei, and has yet to produce an heir. Accidents happen.”
Cersei’s eyes widened, a chill running through her as she understood her father's meaning. Before she could respond, Tywin turned and walked away, leaving her there, her mind spinning.
====
She walked through the dimly lit corridors, the flickering torchlight casting shadows on the stone walls. Her thoughts were a storm, swirling with jealousy and bitterness. If her father's plans worked out, her daughter would be queen—a queen beside Maekar. The very thought made her chest tighten with a mix of emotions she couldn't even begin to sort out.
Her jealousy had become an uninvited companion, gnawing at her, growing stronger with each passing day. Myrcella, her daughter—beautiful, innocent—would have everything that Cersei herself had once longed for. She wanted to be happy for her daughter, but the idea of Maekar's with Myrcella made her blood boil, her jealousy twisting her insides.
As she moved further along the hallway, she paused, hearing the sounds of hushed laughter and whispers coming from an alcove just ahead. Her eyes narrowed in irritation as she saw a small group of servants, young women huddled together, talking and giggling, their voices barely above a whisper. Cersei approached them, her lips set in a thin line, ready to scold them for their lack of decorum.
But she stopped when she caught a snippet of their conversation, her ears pricking up at the mention of the prince's name. She moved closer, her steps silent, listening.
“I swear by the Seven , he’s incredible,” one of the servants—a young, dark-haired girl with rosy cheeks—said, her eyes widening with excitement. “Since he arrived, every chance he gets, he’s had me in his chambers . You wouldn’t believe the things he does. He’s so... strong, and gentle...”
The others gasped, and one of them—a blonde girl, her face flushed—clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. “Truly? You’ve been wi’ the prince?” she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement.
"He's insatiable," the servant said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The first time, he had me up against the wall. Didn’t even bother wi’ me gown, just hiked up me skirts and had his way ."
The servants sighed, their eyes filled with longing and envy. "And what about the other times?" another servant asked, her voice breathless with anticipation.
"Oh, he's taken me in every way you could think off," the young servant said, her voice filled with pride. "He's had me on his bed, on the floor, even bent over the balcony railing, under the stars...."
Another girl, a redhead, sighed dreamily. Oh, I’d give me left hand for a turn. Just once ,” she murmured.
“He’s so handsome. You’re so lucky, Lara.”
The now named Lara, the dark-haired servant, tilted her head, her smile widening as she looked at her friends. Well now, who’s to say? Mayhaps he’ll fancy a bit of variety,” she teased. “But for now, it’s me he calls for.”
The blonde servant leaned in closer, her eyes eager. “Think he’ll call for ye again soon?”
Lara laughed softly.“I’m to bring him oils tonight,” she said. “He twisted his ankle sparrin’ earlier, and he’s asked for somethin’ to ease the pain.” Her smile turned sly, , her eyes glinting with mischief. “Who’s to say what might happen after that?”
Cersei listened, her heart pounding in her chest, her body aching with desire.
The prince—her prince—had been with one of the servants? This... this common girl had been with him, had touched him, had seen him in ways that Cersei had only imagined. Rage, jealousy, and a bitter, poisonous envy twisted within her, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.
She walked away, a plan forming in her mind.
====
Cersei moved silently through the halls, her loose-fitting gown flowing around her, adorned with red and gold jewels that glimmered faintly in the dim torchlight. Her heart pounded in her chest, anticipation growing stronger with each step.
She kept to the shadows until she spotted her quarry—the servant girl, Lara, confidently striding toward Prince Maekar's chambers, a small bowl of oil cradled in her hands.
Cersei's eyes narrowed as she stepped forward to intercept the unsuspecting servant.
Lara's eyes widened in surprise, her face draining of color. "Lady Cersei..." she began.
"And where are you going at this hour?" Cersei asked, her tone deceptively soft, though her eyes were as hard as steel.
The servant swallowed, her fingers trembling slightly around the bowl. "I—I am bringing oils to the prince, my lady. He... he asked for them," Lara stammered, her voice faltering.
Cersei stepped closer, her gaze unwavering as she looked down at the girl, her lips curving into a cold, disdainful smile. "The prince does not need to be served by someone as lowly as you," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "I will bring it to him myself."
Before Lara could respond, Cersei snatched the bowl of oil from her hands. Lara's eyes widened further, fear flashing across her face as she nodded quickly, her gaze dropping to the floor.
"Now leave," Cersei hissed.
The servant didn't hesitate; she turned and hurried away, her footsteps echoing faintly as she disappeared down the corridor. Cersei watched her go, her smile widening in satisfaction.
Her heart pounding, Cersei turned her gaze to the wooden door of the prince's chambers. Her green eyes glinted in the torchlight as she took a deep breath, composing herself. She brushed her fingers through her hair, adjusting her dress. She wanted to look perfect—beautiful, alluring.
With her head held high, Cersei approached the door to the prince's chambers. She lifted her hand, knocking lightly before pushing the door open, her lips curving into a soft, inviting smile as she stepped inside.
Her eyes were immediately drawn to the Prince as he emerged from the bath. Steam rose from his damp skin, which glistened in the soft light of the room. A towel was loosely wrapped around his waist. His black hair was damp, locks falling over his forehead as he rubbed his neck, relaxed from the heat of the bath.
Cersei paused, her eyes roaming over his body, drinking in every detail—the taut muscles of his arms, his broad chest, the firm lines of his abdomen. She bit her lip, heat rushing through her at the sight.
"You're early," he said, his back still to her as he reached for a robe. "I was expecting you to bring your friend."
When he finally turned and looked over his shoulder, his violet eyes widened. "Lady Cersei?" he said, the surprise clear in his voice.
Cersei offered him her most charming smile—the one she knew no man could resist. She stepped forward, holding out the small bowl in her hand. "The oils you requested, my prince."
Maekar blinked, momentarily taken aback. "My lady, you did not need to do this. It's a servant's task," he said, his voice polite but uncertain.
Her smile deepened, her eyes locking onto his. "You are a prince. No lowly servant should serve you," she purred, emphasizing the word "serve."
Maekar moved forward, extending his hand to take the oil from her, but she stepped back, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "You should lie down, my prince," she said softly, her gaze never leaving his. "I heard that you sprained your ankle during your spar. Allow me to help you."
"My lady," Maekar protested, his expression uncertain, "you do not need to—"
But Cersei was already stepping closer, placing her hand against his chest. His skin was warm beneath her palm, and she felt him stiffen at her touch. She guided him gently toward the bed, her fingers trailing over his skin. He allowed her to lead him, sitting down as she instructed, his hand instinctively moving to hold the towel around his waist.
"Lie down, my prince," she whispered.
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers, but then he complied, slowly leaning back until he was lying on the bed, his head resting on plush pillows.
Cersei knelt beside the bed, her fingers brushing against his ankle as she poured some of the oil into her palm. She began to rub it into his skin, her touch gentle, fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. She worked with care, her eyes focused on his ankle as she massaged the sore muscle.
Maekar let out a small sigh, his head tilting back as he relaxed under her touch. "You're... good at this," he murmured, a note of surprise in his voice.
"Better than any servant," Cersei replied, her voice rich with pride as she continued to rub. Her eyes trailed slowly up his leg, taking in the powerful muscles of his calf, his thigh. Her hand moved higher, her fingers kneading into the muscles with more pressure. She watched his expression—the way his eyes fluttered shut, his lips parting slightly.
Her hand drifted higher still, moving to his thigh, her fingers working into the firm flesh there, slow and steady. She heard his breath hitch, and her lips curved into a knowing smile.
"Your muscles are so sore," she said softly, her voice almost a purr. "Perhaps I should move higher still?"
She paused, her eyes meeting his. She saw the smirk that curved his lips, the glint of amusement—and perhaps something else—in his eyes as he looked at her.
"Yes," he said, his voice almost a growl.
Cersei's heart skipped a beat. She moved her hand higher, her fingers brushing against the edge of the towel. Slowly, deliberately, she untied it, letting it fall away. She smiled, her eyes never leaving his as she spoke.
"We won't be needing that," she whispered, her voice dripping with desire.
Cersei's eyes widened slightly as she laid her gaze upon the prince’s cock, her breath hitching in her throat. The servant hadn't been exaggerating; he was indeed impressive. Her hands wrapped around his cock, her fingers barely able to encircle his thickness. Maekar groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes closing briefly as the sensation of her touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through him.
"You are stressed, my prince," Cersei murmured, her voice a low, sultry purr.
"Very much so," Maekar replied, his hands reaching out to caress her sides, his fingers tracing the curves of her body through the fabric of her gown.
"Then let me help you relieve some of your burdens, my prince," Cersei said as she bent over, kneeling on the bed. She took his cock into her mouth, her lips wrapping around him. Maekar groaned loudly, his hips lifting off the bed, his body trembling with pleasure.
Cersei began to move her head up and down, her lips sliding along his shaft, her tongue swirling around the sensitive skin. She could feel him throbbing in her mouth, could taste the salty precum that leaked from his tip. Taking his cock out, she licked his shaft, her tongue tracing the veins, her hands caressing his balls, her fingers gently rolling them, sending shivers of pleasure through him. She then took him deep into her mouth again, her tongue massaging his cockhead.
Maekar's groans filled the room, his hands gripping the sheets, his body tense with pleasure. She could feel him growing closer to the edge, his cock throbbing, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Oh, gods, Cersei," he moaned, his voice a low growl.
Cersei smiled around his cock, her eyes looking up at him, her lips stretched wide. She wanted to make him cum, wanted to taste him, wanted to feel him lose control because of her. She sucked him deeper, her head bobbing up and down, her tongue working the underside of his cock, her hands continuing to caress his balls.
Maekar looked down at Cersei as she pulled her mouth away from his cock, her hands still stroking him, slick with her spit. His cock glistened in the soft light of the room, throbbing with need.
"How do you like my royal cock, my lady?" Maekar asked, his voice a low growl, his eyes dark with lust.
Cersei smiled, her eyes gleaming with desire as she looked up at him. "Like it was made for me," she murmured. She leaned down, raining kisses along the length of his cock, her lips soft and warm, her tongue flicking out to tease him. She tapped his cock playfully against her cheeks, her tongue darting out to lick him, making him squirm with pleasure.
Maekar groaned. "Enough," he growled, his voice filled with urgency. "I want to fuck you, my lioness."
Cersei smiled, almost a snarl. She stood up, her knees on either side of him, her body poised above his. With a deliberate, tantalizing slowness, she began to remove her loose dress, the fabric sliding off her shoulders, revealing her smooth, creamy skin inch by inch.
Maekar watched, his eyes wide with desire as Cersei revealed herself to him. Her body was a vision of perfection, her firm, large breasts high and proud, her nipples a soft pink, hardening under his gaze. Her stomach was still taut and firm, her form still sleek and elegant, despite having borne three children. Her hips were rounded, her thighs strong and shapely, her skin smooth and unblemished.
"Turn around," Maekar commanded, his voice a low growl.
Cersei complied, turning slowly, her body on full display for him. Maekar's hands reached out, grabbing her firm, thick ass, his fingers squeezing, his touch rough and possessive. He groaned, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every curve, every line, every inch of her perfection.
"You truly are the most beautiful woman in the world," Maekar murmured, his voice filled with awe and desire.
Cersei preened under the compliment, her body arching slightly, her breasts thrusting forward, her ass pressing back against his hands.
"And I am all yours, my prince," she purred.
She positioned herself over Maekar's cock, her legs spread wide, her body poised above him. She looked down at him, her eyes filled with desire and anticipation. Slowly, she began to lower herself onto him, her body trembling as she felt the tip of his cock press against her entrance.
She gasped as she impaled herself on him, her eyes widening, her mouth opening in a silent scream of pleasure and pain. He was so big, so thick, and she could feel every inch of him as he stretched her out, filling her completely.
"Oh gods," Cersei moaned, her voice a breathy whisper, her body trembling as she took him in, her cunt gripping him tightly, her walls clenching around him.
Maekar groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes closing briefly as the sensation of her tightness enveloped him. He could feel her, every inch of her, her heat, her wetness, her body gripping him, holding him, taking him in.
Cersei began to move, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm, her body rising and falling on his cock. She could feel him, so deep inside her, so big, so hard, and it sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. She moaned, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, her hands gripping his chest for support.
"Oh gods, yes," she cried out, her voice filled with ecstasy, her body trembling with each movement. "Oh, my prince, you feel so good…. So big, so hard….so deep…."
Maekar watched her, his eyes dark with lust. He could feel her, her body moving on him, her cunt gripping him, her breasts bouncing with each movement, her hair falling in wild, golden waves around her face.
Cersei leaned in, her mouth finding his, her lips pressing against his in a passionate, hungry kiss. Maekar's hands reached up, grabbing her hips, holding her down as he took control, his body moving beneath her, his cock thrusting up into her, his hips meeting hers with each movement.
Cersei moaned wildly, her body convulsing with pleasure, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh. She could feel him, so deep inside her, and it was driving her wild, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
"Oh gods, yes," she screamed, her voice echoing through the room. "Oh, my prince, I'm so close. Don't stop, please don't stop."
Maekar could feel her growing closer to the edge, her body tensing, her moans growing louder, more urgent. He fucked her harder, his thrusts powerful and deep, his body moving with a wild, primal rhythm.
Suddenly, Cersei's body convulsed, her back arching, her head thrown back, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. She came hard, her body shaking, her breath coming in desperate gasps, her moans filling the room.
"Yes, my prince, oh gods," she gasped, her body trembling.
She shuddered on top of him, her body convulsing with waves of pleasure, her moans wild and uncontrolled. Maekar held her, his hands gripping her hips, his body tense with pleasure, his cock throbbing inside her.
Finally, Cersei collapsed on top of him, her body spent. She lay there, her mind spinning with the intensity of her orgasm.
Maekar held her, his arms wrapped around her, his body tense with his own need, his cock still throbbing inside her. He knew he was close, but he wanted to savor this moment, wanted to hold her, to feel her, to be inside her for as long as he could.
"We are not done yet, my lady," Maekar growled, his voice a low rumble in his chest. Gently, he moved Cersei off him, sliding out from under her and standing up beside the bed. His cock was still hard, still throbbing with need, glistening with their combined juices. Cersei looked up at him, her green eyes wide with desire, her body already aching for more.
She crawled across the bed towards him, her movements slow and sensual, her eyes locked onto his. As she reached the edge of the bed, she took his cock into her mouth once again, her lips wrapping around him, her tongue swirling around the sensitive skin. Cersei moved slowly, her head bobbing up and down, her lips sliding along his shaft, her tongue licking and tasting the remnants of her own orgasm. She could taste herself on him, and it sent a shiver of lust coursing through her. She moaned softly, her eyes looking up at him.
Maekar reached down, his hands tangling in her hair, his grip tightening as he began to guide her movements, his hips thrusting gently against her mouth. Suddenly, he pulled away, his cock slipping out of her mouth with a wet pop.
"Turn around," Maekar commanded, his voice a low growl, his eyes filled with hunger.
Cersei complied, turning around on the bed, her body trembling with anticipation. She positioned herself on her hands and knees, her ass presented to him, her back arched, her head turned to look at him over her shoulder.
Maekar groaned, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in the curve of her back, the roundness of her ass, the glistening wetness of her cunt. He reached out, his hands grabbing her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, his touch rough and possessive.
"You are mine, Cersei," he growled, his voice filled with a possessive need. "All of you. Every inch of you is mine to fuck."
Cersei shivered at his words, her body aching with desire, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
Maekar positioned himself behind Cersei, his cock hard and throbbing, ready to take her again. He teased her first, rubbing the head of his cock over her wet folds, coating himself in her juices, making her moan and writhe beneath him. He could feel her trembling with anticipation, her body aching for him.
With a sudden, powerful thrust, Maekar entered her, his cock sliding deep into her cunt, filling her completely. Cersei cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets, her knuckles white. Maekar began to fuck her hard, his hips moving with a powerful rhythm, his cock thrusting in and out of her relentlessly.
"Oh gods, yes!" Cersei screamed, her voice filled with ecstasy. She was returned to the highs she had felt moments before, intense pleasure ripping through her.
Maekar leaned over her, his body covering hers, his mouth near her ear. "If you had come to me, Cersei," he growled, his voice low and rough, his breath hot on her skin. "I wouldn't have bothered with the servants. It's you I want. Only you."
Cersei couldn't answer, her body too caught up in the pleasure, her mind spinning with the intensity of it all. She moaned, her voice a breathy whisper, her body trembling, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
"Yes," she managed to gasp, her voice filled with desire and need. "I will serve you, my prince. Always."
Maekar smiled, his hand reaching up to grab her golden halo of hair, his grip tightening as he began to fuck her even harder. Cersei could feel herself reaching her peak again, her moans growing louder, more urgent. And then, suddenly, she came, her body convulsing with waves of pleasure, her cunt gripping him tightly, her screams filling the room.
Maekar thrust into her once, twice more, and then he came, his cock pulsing, his body trembling, ropes of cum spraying onto Cersei's sweaty, pale back. He collapsed on top of her, his body spent, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his heart pounding in his chest.
They lay there for a moment, their hearts pounding in sync. Then, slowly, Maekar rolled off her, pulling her into his arms. Cersei snuggled up to him, her head resting on his chest, her arm draped over his stomach, her body still trembling with the aftermath of her orgasm. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with satisfaction, her lips curved into a soft, contented smile.
"I might extend my stay here," Maekar murmured, his voice low and rich. "We need to get to know each other more, my lady."
Cersei smiled a tired smile. "I would love that, my prince," she purred. She leaned up, her mouth finding his, her lips pressing against his in a soft, gentle kiss, a promise of more to come.
====
A moon had passed since Prince Maekar departed Casterly Rock, yet his presence lingered in Cersei’s thoughts like an unquenchable flame. She recalled every moment of their affair and regretted none of it.
She sat in her father's chambers as he read aloud a letter from the capital.
"A letter from King Rhaegar," Tywin announced, his voice smooth, each word meticulously measured. "He asks for Myrcella's hand in marriage to Prince Maekar."
Cersei glanced at her daughter. Myrcella's eyes widened, her face illuminated with pure joy. Her hands flew to her mouth as she tried to contain her excitement. It was the reaction one would expect from a young girl whose dreams were on the verge of coming true.
"The King also invites you my daughter and Myrcella to the capital," Tywin continued, "so that Prince Maekar may properly court his future wife."
Cersei's lips curled into a sly smile. She kept her expression serene, even as a thrill coursed through her. She had her dragon prince, yes—but she would have to share him with Myrcella.
She could live with that….for now..
.
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So more or just stop here...??
Chapter 89 will be posted later today
Also Lost in Time if I have time.
Comments
Arcturus
Let's go to next part😁👍 Nice, really nice, would love to see next part of this story
