At last, Wylis got up from the chair and walked over to the door. But before leaving, he spoke without looking, feeling Jon's gaze on his back.
"I'll take the burden. Just don't despise me for it."
"I would never."
Thud!
With that, Wylis left.
Jon, now alone, dragged himself to the chair, poured himself a cup of wine, and drowned away all the shame and humiliation. But it was impossible not to hate.
Not Wylis, but himself. For ruining a young woman's life by marrying her.
####
What the hell am I? Breeding stallion?
The next night, Wylis left his bedchamber. It was the hour of the ghosts, midnight. He'd purposefully chosen his personal chambers outside Maegor's Holdfast since the damn place didn't have that many secret passages.
No words were exchanged, just hints. That night, he was to meet with Lysa alone and do the deed. Initially, the Tower of the Hand was chosen, but Wylis refused. By fucking Lysa in Jon's own bedchamber, the man would imagine it every day while resting there.
So, a different room was picked by Wylis. It was a bedchamber with one single hidden passage leading inside. Thankfully, Varys was still being held in the Black Cells, awaiting his trial. The man would be forgiven later, but for now, there weren't that many spies in the Red Keep.
Wylis was still careful and used Earthbending to enter the hidden passage directly through his personal bedchamber. From there, holding a torch, he walked all the way to the other bedchamber.
At last, he moved the secret entrance, which was a wooden cabinet. He pushed it aside, making some sound. He saw light coming from inside the bedchamber already. A woman's yelp was audible.
"My Lady." Wylis poked his head inside first and pushed the rest of the cabinet. "Apologies for being late."
"No need… Ser… I mean, my Lord."
Wylis smiled, bombarding the usefulness of his handsome face and perfect smile. "Just Wylis will do, my Lady. I prefer that."
"Then… Call me Lysa."
Creak!
He pushed the cabinet back into place before finally turning to look at the woman. It was an old dusty room, but the bed was clean for the occasion. There were a few candles here and there, but that was it.
Not bad.
He eyed the woman, noble in appearance, not the fat and ugly look she'd one day be. Right now, she had the charm of a young lady, nineteen, eyes blue, face nervous but blushing red. She was sitting on the bed's side, feet dangling. Her gown was noble, wide-necked, full-sleeved, but he could make out her figure, a tame hourglass, breasts high and taut.
He could see the resemblance to Catelyn, and perhaps that was why Lysa had a fantastic bosom as well. Yet, Wylis didn't just pounce on her like a madman. He had no reason to hurt her or hate her at this moment. It was a give-and-take situation; she'd get a child and he'd get a year of life.
Shorter than Catelyn, though.
"Lysa." Wylis took her name as hoarsely as he could, filling it with passion. "Before we begin…"
He walked to her and knelt on one knee like a knight. Then, he placed his right hand on her lap, getting a feel of her soft thighs. But his hand rested there on the back, calling for her hand.
Lysa gulped, her blush noticeable. A sin in itself for a married woman. Yet, she gave him both her hands, like surrendering it all to him.
Wylis caressed her hand while looking into her eyes. Even kneeling, his face was right in front of her. "I know this night is not right in the eyes of others. What we're about to do is forbidden, and when it ends, we must carry silence with us. Yet before we take that step, I must know from your own lips. Are you willing to do this?"
"I… I am, Wylis." Lysa muttered.
"I am? I will be putting my seed in you, Lysa. Do you know that?" He asked her, though he felt like he was toying with her. One look at her face and he already knew she was looking forward to it.
"I know… I… I want you to do that."
"Do what?"
"Put your seed in me."
Wylis smiled breathily and stood up again, a towering figure from up close, his shadow cast on her frame. He started taking his tunic off first, baring all his steel-like muscles. He eyed her and saw her gawking at his frame.
"Here." Wylis took her hand and made her feel his hard abs, each as if carved. "Lysa… for this night, let the world fall away. Nothing matters beyond these walls. Only you and me. Can you?"
Lysa nodded furiously.
"Now…" he loosened the ties at his waist. "It shames me to ask, but better I know. For a man built as I am, it is easy to give too much. Tell me, would you have me passionate… or rough?"
"Mmmh…" Lysa was already lost, her face leaned closer, her nose already touching his abs. "R-Rough… Wylis."
Oh? He was surprised. But realising that she likely only ever knew gentle, passionate sex all her life, he understood that desire. Tonight was a chance she'd never get again.
"Very well, Lysa."
Wylis easily let his breeches fall to the floor. He wore no smallclothes that night, and his half-erect cock surged forward with sudden freedom, heavy and dark-veined, pulsing like it had been waiting for this moment.
The sheer sight of it made Lysa gasp audibly, her lips parted, her cheeks crimson.
"You said rough… Lysa."
Before she could respond, Wylis seized a fistful of her thick auburn hair. It was long enough to tumble to her waist, but he bunched it tight in his rough grip, pulling until her neck craned back and her startled face was dragged straight into his sweltering heat.
"Ummmh—!" she moaned, muffled against his cock. Her hands clutched nervously at the skirts covering her knees, the fabric twisting in her fists as her blue eyes widened.
He gave her no chance to hesitate. His thick manhood shoved between her thin red lips, cramming past her tongue and filling her throat in one relentless push.
"Ghk!" Lysa gagged instantly, her whole body jolting as her mouth was split wide open around his girth. Her eyes watered, lashes wet. This was new. No man before had done her like that.
Wylis pulled back, his cock glistening with sticky spit, strands of slick clinging from her lips to his swollen crown. The sight of her mouth watering for him made his shaft pulse hard. He muttered with a smile, "Ah, forgive me, Lysa. My size can be… overwhelming. If it's too much, I'll be more gentle."
"No—mmmm!" Lysa shook her head furiously and leaned in again, practically gobbling his cock back down herself. She gagged hard as she tried to impale her throat on him once more, but he was swelling to full stiffness now, thicker and heavier, impossible to take whole.
Her jaw stretched painfully wide, her lips straining around the fat middle of his length, the thickest part of him. Drool spilled down her chin, her voice lost to gags and muffled whimpers.
He took both reins of her hair now, splitting the locks into two bundles in his fists. With both hands he pulled hard, steering her head like a rider on a mount. His hips bucked, ramming his cock in deep and yanking it back out, over and over. The chamber filled with obscene, wet music. Her gagging chokes, her muffled moans, the lewd slurp of spit being churned inside her mouth.
Each thrust sent shockwaves up his cock. Her lips sealed so tight around him that every pull left a hungry suction clinging to his crown, while her throat spasmed with every plunge. It felt like her mouth was milking him already, the heat of her gullet swallowing around him, eager, messy, desperate. His balls swung heavy against her chin as he drove himself deeper, claiming her face.
"Ghk! Umm—hpphh… Ohhh…! Ump—ck!" Lysa's noises turned animal, half-gag, half-moan, her whole body trembling as she drowned in his musk, her nose pressed against the scorching heat of his groin.
He felt no guilt in treating her mouth like a fuckhole to be used. Even if he hadn't fucked her face, he wouldn't have kissed her lips. Lysa was… useful, fertile, but emotionally unappealing. He wanted her to have his babe, not her utterly mad devotion.
"Let's start the… main event." Wylis finally pulled out with a wet pop, spit and slick hanging from his tip in glistening strands.
She barely had time to cough before he seized the hem of her gown and yanked it upward. The fabric rustled as he pulled it over her head, forcing her to rise to her feet in the process. The garment dropped to the floor, leaving her bare.
"Umm… You're beautiful, Lysa," he admitted, his eyes feasting on her body. Her bosom was no less enticing than Catelyn's, though perkier, the cherry-pink nipples tight against cool air. Her pale Riverlands skin glowed in the candlelight, her belly flat, her legs soft and plush, and between them, her cunt already slick and glistening with need.
"Against this wall here, Lysa."
He guided her firmly, pushing her face-first against the rough stone wall. Her breasts pressed flat against it, her bare skin shivering at the cold. She was too short for him to take from behind while standing, and he had no desire to crouch. Normally, he'd tease a woman, tongue and fingers until she screamed for his cock. But with Lysa, he didn't feel it.
He wasn't there to make her fall in love with him. He was here to breed her, to earn those years. The babe would live a life of luxury under Jon's care anyway. That was the point of bedding noble women.
"Oooooh! Gods!" Lysa yelped when her feet were suddenly lifted off the floor, her body hoisted effortlessly by Wylis' massive hands gripping her smooth, curving sides. She dangled there, helpless in his grasp, leaned forward, her breasts swaying as the stone wall scraped against her flushed cheek.
"Line it up, Lysa. My hands are busy."
______________________
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