Daenerys Targaryen shoved the tent flap aside and stepped inside, her silver hair wild from the wind. Jon Snow was already there, stripping off his furs. He didn't waste time with words. "On your knees, Your Grace."
She dropped without hesitation, fingers working open his breeches. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the head already glistening. Daenerys wrapped her hand around the shaft and licked a slow stripe from base to tip, tasting salt and heat. "Fuck my mouth," she said, voice low and rough.
Jon grabbed her hair and pushed in. She took him deep, gagging once before relaxing her throat. Spit ran down her chin as he thrust, fucking her face in steady strokes. Her eyes watered but she didn't pull back. When he pulled out, strings of saliva connected her lips to his cock.
"Strip," he ordered.
She stood and peeled off her layers. Her breasts were full, nipples stiff from the cold air. Jon turned her around and bent her over the table, kicking her legs apart. He spat on his fingers and shoved two inside her cunt without warning. She was already soaked. He pumped them hard, curling to hit the spot that made her moan.
"Greedy little queen," he muttered. "Dripping for a bastard's cock."
Daenerys pushed back against his hand. "Then give it to me."
Jon replaced his fingers with his cock in one thrust. She cried out as he filled her, stretching her walls. He didn't ease in. He fucked her fast and deep, hips slapping against her ass, the table creaking under them. Each stroke dragged over her clit when he angled just right. Her wetness coated his shaft and dripped down her thighs.
He reached around and rubbed her clit in tight circles while pounding into her. Daenerys came hard, cunt clenching around him, legs shaking. Jon didn't stop. He kept driving into her through the spasms, chasing his own release.
When he pulled out, he flipped her onto her back on the table. Her legs fell open. He slammed back inside and leaned down to bite her nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Daenerys clawed at his back, urging him deeper. "Harder. Ruin me."
Jon obliged. He fucked her like he meant to break the table, sweat slicking their skin. The wet sounds of his cock pounding her cunt filled the tent. She came again, thighs locked around his waist, and he followed right after, burying himself to the hilt and flooding her with thick pulses of cum.
They stayed locked together for a moment, breathing ragged. Jon pulled out slowly, watching his seed leak from her swollen pussy. Daenerys ran two fingers through the mess and brought them to her mouth, sucking them clean while holding his gaze.
"Again," she said. "Before the others return."
Jon was already hardening. He dragged her to the furs on the ground this time, spreading her wide and sliding back into the mess he'd made. He fucked her slower but no less filthy, grinding deep on every stroke, making her feel every inch. Daenerys met him thrust for thrust, filthy encouragements spilling from her lips.
When they finished the second time, both spent and marked with bites and bruises, Jon pulled her against his chest. "The North remembers," he said with a smirk.
Daenerys laughed, low and satisfied. "So does the queen."
