The Stormlander - Ch. 12 (Patreon)

Ser Damon stirred awake with a smile and a happy groan. Echoes of pleasure still pulses through his body, accompanying a most delightful ache. So too did he feel a weight and warmth upon him, a slender figure draped across his naked thighs and chest.

Company from last evening, he knew.

He cracked an eye open, greeted with rays of sunlight pouring across the ceiling. Both eyes open now, Ser Damon was met with an even more pleasing sight, the lovely and naked Alanaya pressing up against him. Her dark skin clashed quite brilliantly against his pale body, slender ebony fingers threading through the curls of his chest hair. The woman was still asleep - though Ser Damon noted with some pride that she looked thoroughly pleased.

The Stormlander sat up, careful not to wake his beautiful bedmate… only to be greeted with yet another delight for his waking eyes. 

Lady Taena was standing at the foot of the bed, wearing nothing but a silk robe - an open silk robe. She was watching him, smiling, but Ser Damon was more interested in the artwork of her dusky body. Her belly and her breasts were on display, full, ample teats swelling outward from her chest, as if offering themselves for his viewing pleasure. Her belly was just as alluring, the sensual lines of taut muscle showing a healthy fitness for a noblewoman.

“Lovely morning, yes?” Her sweet, accented voice poured forth, stirring life back into his spent, drained manhood.

Ser Damon sat up further, carefully easing himself out of Alanaya’s arms. He propped himself up against the headboard, taking in a deep breath. Vitality slowly, slowly seeped back into his bones.

“As lovely as mornings can be.” He said, grinning. The bastard knight drew his eyes across the woman’s naked body once more, just in case he missed some alluring details. A memory flashed through his head, vivid sensations of those magnificent breasts swinging in his face. “I’m pleased to see that I didn’t just dream up last night’s fun.”

Lady Taena hummed softly, turning to pace slowly across the foot of the bed. She offered her profile, letting Damon see the true prominence of her feminine figure. The curve of her breasts, of her hips and legs. The fluid motion of her body with each sensual step. Damon’s cock stirred again, rejuvenated.

“And the queen was pleased to see your heroics extended well into the bedroom.” Lady Taena answered, faint delight in her dark eyes.

It was a heroic effort, wasn’t it? Ser Damon began to remember more clearly. A lone knight facing an attack from two wicked adversaries - for Queen Cersei’s viewing pleasure, of course. He’d faced Lady Taena and the whore Alanaya at the same time, per the queen’s command. And he’d won.

Ser Damon rolled his shoulders, enjoying the ache. He tried not to seem too proud of himself. 

“I pledged my sword to her service, did I not?” He said with a wry grin.

The Myrishwoman looked like she wanted to laugh, but she remained composed, only offering the slightest twitch at the corner of her mouth. She kept her gaze level with his own, never wavering for that moment of silence. Then she gave an amused snort, tugging her robe so dreadfully closed.

“You should wash and get dressed.” She told him - though not before taking the time to admire his nudity. “The hour is early. The queen wishes to speak to you. Before holding court.”

Ser Damon didn’t argue. He untangled himself further from the slumbering Alanaya’s arms, kissing the Summer Island beauty upon her temple before pulling himself out of bed. The cool morning air caressed his naked body, dancing down his back. He shook the lingering fatigue from his limbs, blinking until his vision became focused and sharp. 

A short way from the bed he spotted a wash basin set upon a table. And standing beside it, Lady Taena. Ever calm, ever patient.

Damon approached, his arms snaking around the noblewoman’s slim waist to draw her in for a kiss. She pressed against him, humming into the embrace. Her body was alive with heat, yearning for more of his touch. He could feel it, just under the silk. But in the end, she pushed him away. Setting upon the bastard knight a look.

It would not be wise to be late, was the silent message.

And Ser Damon agreed.

But the Stormlander felt little disappointment. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Fortune yet remained on his side… and he had a good feeling about this day.

-  -  -

Ser Damon reached the queen’s private solar in little time, thanks in part to a young lady-in-waiting. Pretty for her age certainly, but not quite mature enough for Damon’s taste. 

She dismissed herself once they reached the door beyond which Cersei waited, leaving Ser Damon to face the two queensguard standing at attention. He recognized their faces but hadn’t bothered to learn their names. With their dull eyes staring back, Damon could only imagine they felt much the same towards himself.

Damon gave the two knights in white and gold a nod. They did nothing in turn, barely acknowledging him as he pushed the solar door open.

Through that threshold was a far more enjoyable sight. The Queen of Lannister stood at the open window, bathing in the morning sunlight. Her golden hair caught those rays, shimmering with a brilliant shine. Even her lovely, fair skin seemed to glow with the sun’s warmth.

She was dressed in deep red, her dress a passionate crimson with dark gold lining the skirts that flowed all the way down to the floor. Fine fabric it had to have been, no doubt the finest - likely purchased from a trade ship from Lys. Spun and woven into the radiant garb that adorned that clung so sensually to Cersei’s body. It covered much, with sleeves reaching down to her wrists, but it left her shoulders and collarbone bare. And with her hair done up into an ornate bun, pinned with gold and rubies, Ser Damon imagined the ease with which he could trail kisses across the sweet length of her neck.

She turned from the window, facing him. The light glittered in her eyes and Ser Damon could see constrained delight. The blonde maintained her grace and poise, upholding that practiced calm that all noblewoman learned, but Damon could tell… Cersei was very, very pleased.

Ser Damon gave a bow.

“My queen.”

He kept his eyes downturned, but heard the graceful shuffling of feet as Cersei drew closer. When the young knight looked back up, Cersei’s smile had grown. Ser Damon almost returned it, comfortable with the knowledge that his good fortune had yet to end.

“The Iron Fleet has been destroyed.” The Queen said. She let those words hang in the air, seemingly about to break into laughter. Instead, the blonde came even closer, closing the distance between Queen and loyal knight into an almost scandalously abbreviated gap. She looked up into Ser Damon’s eyes, close enough now that the man could see her joy was heated with a blistering ruthlessness. “Lord Redwyne did as commanded, striking without mercy in the dead of night. The traitor Euron Greyjoy is dead, burned and sunk to the bottom of Ironman’s Bay along with hundreds of his ship and fellow traitors.”

Ser Damon stared, inwardly reeling. A heartbeat later it managed to sink in. The Queen had actually taken his advice. And it had resulted in a triumph beyond what he could have ever predicted. He wanted to laugh, silent and calm against the brilliant exhilaration that swirled from his heart.

“Truly?” He managed to ask, allowing only the faintest grin.

The Queen nodded, producing a slip of parchment from her sleeve. He noted the wax seal, indeed marked with the sigil of House Redwyne.

“A raven came in the night. More reports will no doubt come, confirming this wonderful news. Another enemy of the crown dealt with… thanks to your wise counsel.”

The bastard knight wanted to holler this triumph from the balcony. He wanted to sweep Queen Cersei into a deep kiss. He wanted to tear that dress from her body and take her right there on the cold floor. And from the ravenous glee written on the Lannister queen’s face, she might have very well felt the same.

“I but humbly offer whatever support I can give you, your grace.” Ser Damon said, tipping his head forward in a small bow.

Queen Cersei was silent for a moment, her smile waning into a more even expression… save of course, for her eyes. With brilliant green orbs she studied him, playing with the parchment in her hands. This was the woman who had already watched him fuck… and still Damon felt his heart race from being the target of her gaze. She looked upon him with more than mere interest. In her eyes, Ser Damon could see that she craved, she hungered.

“Indeed.” She finally spoke. A faint smile broke through. “Your support has been invaluable to the crown thus far, I must admit. Perhaps the gods shine their favor upon you, ser.”

With the good luck I’ve been having, I would certainly believe it…

“Perhaps.” Ser Damon answered, stifling a grin.

Cersei continued to regard him with her sharp, cunning gaze… though that notorious hunger never quite faded. She had the eyes of a lioness, her focus unwavering. The Queen perhaps felt a flare of daring then, stepping even further into Ser Damon’s space. So close now that he could feel the heat radiating from her body. She looked up into his eyes and he drank in the beauty of her face. 

Then… she laid her hand upon his chest. Her touch was gentle and intimate and warm. She let it rest there for a moment, as if giving Ser Damon the chance to realize what she had done. The bastard knight’s heart raced even faster. Blood raced through his veins, pumping down to stir the length of his cock.

“True friends are a rare thing in this world.” Cersei spoke in a low, sweet voice. She was so close that Ser Damon could feel her warm breath upon his lips. His heart burned with the desire to steal a kiss… but even a lecher like him was not so mindlessly stupid. “You’ve done everything I’ve asked of you, no matter how dangerous or debased. Everything you’ve done, every piece of advice you’ve given… has only made my position stronger. I would be a cruel woman not to reward you.”

“You’ve already honored me with a place in your service.”

Cersei let out a laugh. A giggle. Ser Damon almost didn’t believe it.

“Ha. ‘Honor you’. I don’t wish to honor you, sweet knight. I will give you what you have so bravely earned.”

Ser Damon loved the sound of that. But he loved what she would do next even more.

Her hands slid up from his chest, soft, slender fingers running across the stubble of his jaw. She took his face with both hands and stole a kiss. Chaste at first, but even the simple touching of their lips was enough to shock the lustful Bastard of Blackhaven. He went still, even as the Queen’s lips moved gracefully, skillfully against his own. It was only when she demanded more from him, swiping against his teeth with her tongue, did he return her affections. 

When they broke apart, both queen and knight were breathless and flushed in the face. Cersei was panting softly, still holding him by the neck and the back of his head. The sight of her cheeks colored a rosy pink and her sharp eyes clouded with a sweet haze… it was a look he so loved to see upon a woman’s face. His cock wasn’t just stirring now, but fully hard and throbbing in his trousers. But Ser Damon still clung to a sliver of rationality - immediately, he was mindful of where his hands were. Quickly, he drew them away from the curve of the queen’s hips, drawing them back to his sides.

Cersei kissed him again, a smaller peck to the corner of his mouth. Her words came as a whisper, low and desperate.

“With a single command I can raise you up to be a lord. With some scribbled ink and a stamp of wax, you’ll no longer be a bastard knight but a noble man with a house to call his own. I know how to reward true loyalty.”

Damon was still stunned, still reeling from the kiss. The taste of Cersei’s tongue still lingered upon his own. He almost couldn’t speak. Somehow, he found the nerve to answer.

“That is… beyond generous, my queen.” Despite the shock, his heart was soaring. He managed what was quite likely a stupid grin, but the queen seemed more than pleased with his reaction. “I will need time to think of a house name.”

“Of course.” Her emerald eyes shone then with ravenous intent. The sort of look that made a man’s cock ache. “But before I bestow upon you this title, you must endure one more task for me.”

“I am at your command, your grace.”

The Queen’s smile grew. Devious. Hungry.

“Come to me tonight, Ser Damon. After dark. And together we will celebrate our great victory.”