Playing the Game (Game of Thrones)

He has every intention of simply taking the lead, at first. Rising from the bath sees Bellegere rising from her kneeling position beside the tub of hot water along with him. His hand comes up, snaking behind her head as his fingers slide through her hair, and then he’s gripping tightly as he brings her in for a kiss. However, it’s as their kissing that something… awakens within Jon.
 
Truth be told, he really has no right taking the lead in a situation like this. By all appearances, he is little more than a wet-behind the ears boy, thrust into the world early and forced to grow up and become a man. Meanwhile, the Black Pearl is… well, she’s the Black Pearl. Her experience is undeniable, or else she wouldn’t be a top-class courtesan with her own barge and all of the trappings that came with that, spending her days enticing men to join her as she wanders the canals of Braavos.
 
And yet, all of that is merely surface level. Beneath the surface, for all that Jon has a distinct lack of direct experience at this point, he’s more than just his identity, more than just his young age would imply. As Bellegere presses up against him, submitting to his domineering kiss and running her hands along his body, leaving his cock, straining and hard behind… something awakens in Jon. Something fierce and primal, something aggressive… and possessive.
 
With a low, guttural growl, he grabs Bellegere by the throat quite suddenly, not quite choking her, but holding her there most firmly. Then, he steps carefully out of the tub, with purpose, forcing her to back away as he moves forward, forcing her feet to match his steps. Her chocolate-brown eyes are fixed on his, slightly wide but without fear, even as he takes her to the nearby bed, an incredibly extravagant, ceaselessly opulent area of the cabin that takes up an entire wall with its size.
 
Once he has her standing right in front of the bed, Jon lets go of her hair, but not her throat, using his now freed hand to reach down and grab her dress. With a strength he did not know he possessed, he rips the already loose garment clean off of Bellegere’s body, positively tearing it to shreds. The half-exposed courtesan lets out a light gasp at this, which subsequently turns into a moan. That moan only grows louder and more wanton when Jon absolutely attacks her neck a moment later, kissing and biting and suckling at her tender flesh.
 
His hands come down to her breasts, full and perfectly round in their existence, and he grabs at her chest, squeezing it harshly, kneading it as if his digits were claws, and he was laying claim to her. Bellegere moans again, though there’s also a slight whimper of pain in her voice. She masks it well, but Jon hears it all the same… and part of his exults in that pain. Part of him wants to hurt her more, even as he claims her.
 
Releasing her breasts, Jon spins the Black Pearl about, and thrusts her down onto the bed behind her, still having enough presence of mind not to force her to the slightly wet floor of the barge cabin, rather than using the actual bed itself. He forces her face down though, rather than on her back. He bends her over, pushing her face into the blankets and pillows, and lifting her hips up into the air so that her ass is nice and high. He spreads her legs apart, giving himself a nice view of her pussy lips, which even now are exceedingly wet.
 
But then, Jon already knew that much. He couldn’t say exactly how he knew, but he could smell it. Her arousal, it was as evident as anything to his nose, his nostrils flaring as he takes in the desire that she’s giving off, as he inhales her scent and finds her to be a wanting, needing bitch in need of a good, hard fucking.
 
Another growl emits from Jon’s throat that’s more bestial than man, even as he grabs hold of Bellegere by her impressive hips, bringing his cock up under her to slap against her dripping wet quim. The courtesan cries out, moaning beneath him, back arched in a truly delicious manner, submission evident in every fiber of her being.
 
But just because she submits doesn’t mean Jon goes any easier on her. He wants more of her whimpers, he wants to hear her mewl in pain. Bringing one hand up, he slaps his palm down on one of Bellegere’s ass cheeks, spanking her on the spot and causing her to cry out softly from the sudden stinging pain. His cock throbs where it’s currently hot dogging her pussy lips, and with a slightly wicked grin on his face, staring down at her reddened butt cheek, almost mesmerized by it, Jon repeats the action on the opposite buttocks, with similar results.
 

Bellegere is not so pale as most of the women Jon has known in his life, having grown up in the cold, sunless North. She is tanned, and while not dark of skin, she still has more brown to her than say, Sansa or Arya, or even Jeyne Poole could boast. Even still, her full, curvaceous ass pinks up quite beautifully under his strikes, so Jon keeps spanking her, enjoying leaving his mark on her, and Bellegere keeps crying out, moaning and squealing in equal measure as she shifts her body back and forth, sliding her dripping wet cunt lips across the top of his pulsating member in an effort to entice him.
 
Entice him she does, and eventually Jon is distracted from smacking her bottom red. Grabbing hold of her pinked ass cheeks instead, causing her to whimper slightly at the contact, He holds her steady and lines himself up. As he pushes into her from behind, finally entering the courtesan, another growl emits from Jon’s throat, but this one is more… satisfied than the ones before, less aggressive and more pleased.
 
Bellegere moans out as she’s finally penetrated, and her inner walls clench and flex around his cock in a most satisfying way. Jon… Jon can’t help himself. That feeling is rising up inside of him again, that desire to conquer and take and make this woman his own. He wants her, he wants to make her his… and she clearly wants the same. Pulling back, Jon thrusts forward much more viciously, exulting in the cry that leaves Bellegere’s lips. Then he does it again, and again, and again.
 
As he begins to fuck the courtesan with all his might, slamming home into her cunt with a purpose that not even he himself can properly explain, Jon starts to lose himself in the pleasure. She is so much more than young Jeyne Poole. She is more than the noble girl who decided to suck him off, at White Harbor. And she is all his, even if she might not know it yet.
 
Leaning forward, practically collapsing on top of her, Jon mounts Bellegere Otherys, he mounts the Black Pearl, and begins to fuck her even harder from behind, taking her with a ferociousness that he hadn’t known himself capable of, before tonight. But then, he’s not quite himself right now. Something has made something in his blood rise up and take over, something deep within him has been awakened. Perhaps it’s wrong to say he’s not himself right now… perhaps it’s righter to say that he’s more himself than he ever has been before.
 
Reaching out, Jon wraps a hand around Bellegere’s throat again, and then slides the other hand around to grab at the Black Pearl’s perfectly rounded tits as he lifts her top half slightly up off the bed, holding her in such a way that her back continues to arch as her head tilts upwards and her wanton moans fill the room, rather than being muffled by the blankets and pillows beneath them.
 
Jon’s throbbing, pulsating cock has never felt so big, so large, so hard before. He’s deeper inside of Bellegere than he would have thought possible right now, fucking the courtesan so hard that he’s pounding against the entrance to her womb itself, ramming up against the cervix. And surprisingly enough… that last barrier is starting to give away. Jon’s nostrils flare as the pleasure finally gets to Bellegere. She’s a courtesan, so one would expect her to be able to last a while. And to be fair, she had, though it was a toss up whether the spankings and everything else had contributed or helped her stave off her eventual orgasm.
 
Regardless, one finally arrives, with the beautiful tanned courtesan crying out as an explosive orgasm rocks her gorgeous, voluptuous form. She spasms in Jon’s grasp, though she doesn’t truly go anywhere thanks to the way he’s holding her. Her insides though, clench and squeeze down around his cock in a way that not even Jeyne was capable of when she’d cum for him. The Black Pearl’s pussy is the tightest, wettest hole that Jon has ever fucked, and he just can’t get enough of it.
 
Luckily, he’s far from done. Turning Bellegere’s head to face him, he kisses her deeply, passionately, practically claiming her mouth as his own as he continues to fuck into her. Her orgasm has made her inner passage even slicker than it already was, and Jon doesn’t hesitate to go as fast as this allows him to go, battering into her cervix all the harder… until finally, he goes right through.
 
Bellegere screams as he penetrates her womb directly, but the noise is mostly swallowed up by Jon’s mouth covering her own, and by his tongue doing it’s best to make its way down her throat. As he kisses her, his cock pushes past her broken cervix and into her womb, and the last few inches of his member disappear into her pussy as he finally sheathes his entire length inside of her.
 
For a moment, Bellegere freezes up at this deepest of penetrations, tensing in his arms… and then she’s shaking again as she climaxes once more around his cock, her inner walls and now her cervix as well tightening and squeezing and flexing along his member. Jon groans into her soft, full lips as he continues to kiss her and fuck her at the same exact time, never once slowing down, savagely pounding into her from behind with all his might.
 
Eventually, he disengages from her lips and pushes the courtesan’s face back into the blankets beneath them, one hand grabbing up a fistful of her hair as he does so and the other coming back to rest on her upturned ass. He pounds into her from above rapidly and roughly, slamming into her womb again and again, until finally, after multiple orgasms on her part, he finds himself milked of his seed, his white, hot ejaculate filling her womb to the brim as he groans and all but collapses on top of her.
 
By the time he’s done with her, the Black Pearl is already beginning to bruise. He was as violent as he was passionate, as brutal as he was possessive. He didn’t just take the lead, he conquered her, he claimed her… and even as they both begin to come down from their respective highs of pleasure and ecstasy, Jon finds himself leaning forward and biting into her shoulder, marking her as his own with his teeth. It’s instinct more than anything else, something primal and feral deep within him that he can’t even explain.
 
Eventually though, Jon rolls off of Bellegere, laying on his back among the blankets and pillows, the bed they’re both on incredibly soft and comfortable, to be perfectly honest. Though it feels a little strange, not having any furs like one would have in the North. Jon doesn’t think on it too long though, as Bellegere slides up alongside him, cuddling close despite the physical abuse he’s laid upon her. She looks at him with lust and love in equal measure in her chocolate-brown eyes.
 
“I knew… I knew you were special, Jon. I could feel it. I could feel it in my blood. I… I am Bellegere Otherys, descended from the first Black Pearl, also named Bellegere… and Aegon IV Targaryen. And I pledge myself to you, Dragon Lord.”
 
Jon blinks owlishly at that, but before he can actually ask what she means by that, it seems like the courtesan’s strength is finally leaving her, because her eyes droop and she suddenly slumps forward, passing out against his chest, very clearly exhausted by what they’d just done together. There’s a strange sort of pride that fills him at knowing he basically caused that much, a primal satisfaction that he’d exhausted his… ‘mate’?
 
More confused than ever, Jon isn’t sure what to do about all of this. Dragon Lord? Why would she call him that? More than that, she was descended from a Targaryen? The fourth Aegon specifically… Jon couldn’t say how far back that was, he didn’t actually know his histories all that well, it’d never been important, truth be told. But the fact was, she had Targaryen blood, as diluted as it might be.
 
And she was naming him Dragon Lord. He didn’t… he didn’t understand. Right now, though, Bellegere wasn’t in a position to give him answers, unfortunately. Still… Jon was conflicted. Part of him was screaming to run. To flee this situation, and maybe Braavos altogether. Part of him didn’t trust her pledge, didn’t trust her words.
 
Another part, which in turn fueled the former part, was pleased with it though. It was an alien satisfaction, worming its way through Jon’s chest, through his very soul if not his mind. He was happy, that she’d effectively given herself over to him. He couldn’t exactly explain why, but he was happy. Did he have any right to be though? Should he stay or should he go? Was this all a trap that he needed to escape before the walls finished closing in? Or could there be something here?
 
Jon didn’t know what to do, as he lay there with Bellegere’s naked, freshly fucked body pressed up against him. But it was time to make a choice. Pursue this… or run.

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