Wylis couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. His first time, and how Tyrant's Squire woke up. On its own, his arm snugly went around her waist.
"M'lord…" She gulped, rising on her toes to reach his lips, her fingers dancing across his aching length. "If you'll have me, I'll be yours till my last breath. Because I'll know the Gods have already blessed me with the grace of a lifetime."
Honestly, it all was too sudden.
Wylis had only met Ros a handful of times, and he'd fucked her just once. She wasn't even a friend, just an acquaintance. Though what she did for Wenda did make her much more important. Enough that he'd employ her and protect her.
"No," he said.
Ros' eyes fell, disappointment visible.
But before she could land on her heels and pull away, his right arm squeezed her harder, his left hand palmed the back of her lush, red, untied hair, his lips ready to bruise her. "Not now. Once Wenda's given birth… you'll give me a brood, Ros."
His fingers tightened like claws in her hair, dragging her face up until her lips crashed against his. That wine still lingered on her breath as thickly as it had in the cup, and he drank it from her mouth as though he were the one tipsy. He didn't usually drink, but like this… with her lips under his… he loved it.
"Ummh…" Ros melted against him with a low whimper, her hand faltering below. She let him take her mouth, part her lips, devour her. Gods, it had been years since she'd felt a man like this, bigger than her, hotter. The sort of man who kissed as though he meant to conquer.
She felt weak; he felt impossibly imposing above her. That boy from Winter Town, the one green as spring, just a stableboy, was gone. This was a man now, carved out of muscle and heat, and his kiss told her as much.
Her eyes fluttered closed as his strong tongue slipped past her lips, tasting her, declaring her his just as she had offered herself. His tongue teased hers until she gave a helpless little giggle, then she danced with him, lips wet, hot, sliding, tongues sparring, a kiss that was a mix of comfort, confidence, and filth.
Wylis, eyes shut, lost in the heat, savored her mouth. He couldn't even remember if he'd kissed her that first time. He probably hadn't; she had been a whore, and he, a guy with coin. But now… now there was no reason not to. Her career had been short-lived anyway, and this kiss tasted nothing like whoring.
He felt her tongue melt against his like tangling, warm honey. His grip shifted, no longer in her hair but sliding down to her shoulders, pushing the gown aside. The fabric was loose, barely tied, and it fell without protest.
When he broke the kiss, his lips were wet. Candlelight flickered across her chest as he looked down at her breasts. They were beautiful. Round, proud, barely any sag, and he knew they'd fill his massive hands easily. Her nipples, flushed tight and red, already pebbled under the cool air.
"They've grown."
"Hah." She laughed. "I was just eight-and-ten back then, M'lord. And the way you took me, it was no less than you taking my maidenhead."
He knew that wasn't true. She hadn't been a virgin when he'd fucked her back then. But really, considering his own size, that might as well be the case.
"Mind if I take it again then?"
Ros laughed and, without replying, fell to her knees, nude, using her own discarded robes to cushion her knees on the cold floor. "Why ask when I have already… given myself to you?"
Her hand gripped his shaft, heavy and swollen, before her lips stretched around it. She sank down with a wet, suckling kiss, her mouth swallowing half of him at once.
"Uh… Gods!" Wylis nearly moaned.
Her tongue pressed hard against the sensitive crown before swirling around the rim. She knew exactly where to touch him, exactly how to pull the sound from his chest. Slowly, hungrily, she slid lower until her lips couldn't take any more, her jaw pried wide, and then she pulled back with a long, shivering suck.
Her head bobbed in rhythm, each push forward followed by a stifled choke in her throat as the girth filled her mouth. She couldn't take him whole, no woman could. What she managed already made her lips ache. Her cheeks hollowed, her tongue worked feverishly below, rolling him against her palate until her spit clung in shiny strands.
"Mmhh… Oohh—mmnnhh…Slurp..." she moaned around him, gurgling when the tip nudged too far and splattered her saliva down his length.
Her hand pumped the slick inches she couldn't reach, her fist twisting at the base as her mouth slurped noisily over the rest. Every time she drew back, a wet pop left her lips, only for her to sink down again, moaning into the hot stretch.
Wylis's knuckles were white on the edge of the table. He didn't dare grip her hair, didn't dare use her mouth the way he so often did. Gods knew he had dragged women's faces down his cock more than he should have. Lyanna craved it, the little minx, but the rest? Why had they let him? He didn't know.
He only gritted his teeth and endured the fire as Ros pleasured him willingly, her own spit dripping down her chin to her breasts.
"Get up… Ros," he growled.
She pulled off him with a wet gasp, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, then obediently rose to her feet.
Wylis pulled a chair aside into the open, turned her, and pressed her back until her smooth ass dropped into it. In one motion, he seized her legs, pulling her down the cushion until her back was arched against it. Her head tilted on the bottom of the high backrest, her chin nearly pressed to her chest. It wasn't uncomfortable, just utterly exposing.
Her ass dangled off the edge, her knees drawn up beside her own face. The sight stopped him.
Gods…
Her body was pale as snow, but the curve of her ass glowed in candlelight, and between her thighs her cunt glistened pink, ready and wet.
"Even your ass has gotten bigger," he muttered, stroking one kneedable cheek with the edge of his thumb.
"For you to… Ohhh!" Her reply broke into a moan as his cockhead rubbed her entrance, smearing her juices across her sensitive folds. "P-pound—ooohhh!"
"Really?" he chuckled, pressing in slowly.
His cock split her lower lips apart, inch after inch, burying into her scorching heat. He leaned forward, towering above her frame, his hands braced on the armrests as though he truly was preparing to pound straight down into her.
"Gods! Y… You're bigger than I remember… How did I take you… back then." Ros writhed, her eyes wide, staring down between her breasts at the thick length sinking into her.
"Ohhhh… Y-You're breaking me-mmmmh!" Her breath stuttered into broken cries as his girth stretched her walls. Her one hand slipped between her thighs, fingers circling her clit in desperate little flicks. She was already so close just from the merciless stretch, her body quivering around his cock.
Wylis watched in awe as Ros truly came undone on his cock. He pushed in slowly, one gentle thrust at a time, mesmerized as her snug, curvaceous body stretched around him. He could see where her limits clung, where her swollen petals struggled and yielded, stretched open to make way for its lord. He carved into her, widening her. And before he had even filled her halfway, she broke.
Her whole body tensed until its limits.
"Aaaahhh!" she screamed, fingers thrashing across her clit.
The gush came hard and fast, clear nectar squirting over his cock, spraying onto his thighs, splattering his tunic. She writhed under him, toes curling, her cunt spasming around his girth as jets of her release stained the cushion under her. She squirted, her moans breaking into helpless little sobs as her body surrendered to him.
"Ghh…" Wylis groaned, pulling free of her gripping cunt just as another gush spurted.
His tunic was soaked. He only sneered, grabbed the cloth at the collar, and ripped it over his head. Naked now, he stood above her like a mountain, his cock wet with her lust, dripping heavy against his thigh.
The moment her orgasm faltered, when her gasps turned whimpers instead of shrieks, he drove back in. No pause, no mercy. His cock speared her halfway and started to pound. His hips slapped against her slick cunt relentlessly. His massive frame moved with brutal rhythm. He ground his cock in deep circles before pulling back, only to slam back down, wet flesh clapping, her juices dripping from the curve of her plump ass.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
His every thrust sounded like wet leather slapped against stone, his balls swinging low and slapping the curve of her ass.
"Ungh, ungh, ungh!" Each plunge knocked the air out of her lungs.
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