With that little prayer, he reminded her of what they were about to do. He was going to not only slide between her legs, but he was going to spill. That night, the next, and many more until her belly showed the proof of swelling.
Finally, he walked past her to the large three-person settee in his bedchamber, made of green cushions and a large wooden frame. He had planned on taking her on it. The bed was too common and boring.
He put the censer on it at one end and started to remove his clothes. When he saw Alerie moving to do the same, he quickly stopped her.
"Not yet, my Lady. Let not your hands be troubled. This night belongs to the Seven's will. Let my hands guide you through this."
No word, no hesitation. The gorgeous, proud, stoic noble lady stopped moving and just watched him throw off his robes first, and then remove the trousers. In moments, he was naked entirely, his cock hard, threateningly bulging, veins throbbing. The room was bright in candlelight, and she saw everything in great detail.
Bronn strode back to her with confident steps, his naked skin prickling her as he pressed flush against her. Her sizable breasts mashed against his bare chest. Being taller, he looked down at her with a hidden smirk. His cock throbbed viciously at the thought of sullying Alerie Tyrell, Lady of the Reach's mightiest house, daughter of the cunning Hightowers, now reduced to his personal cocksleeve. And soon, if he played his prayers right, a devoted worshipper at the altar of his fat, veined shaft.
"Alerie Hightower, kiss the Gods."
With that, he leaned down, one arm snaking around her waist to grope her plush ass, his rough fingers sinking deep into her flesh despite the layers of her gown, kneading it like dough. His other hand claimed her equally soft bosom, squeezing the heavy mounds through the silk until he felt her nipples harden under his palm. Then, his lips locked with hers in a bruising claim, his tongue already prying her.
He shamelessly kept his eyes open, staring right into her green depths, drinking in the flicker of shame in them. The thrill of it shot straight to his cock, making it twitch against her.
Lady of Highgarden, proud and untouchable, now flushed and trapped in his gaze. She closed her eyes and surrendered, her lashes fluttering shut, the last bit of her noble resistance melting away.
She tasted sweet and wine-like. It made Bronn's mouth water as his tongue plundered her depths, ravishing every corner of her warm, soft mouth. Everything about her was perfect, too perfect for the likes of that oaf Mace Tyrell. It annoyed him, fueling his roughness as he kissed her greedier, harder, like he was stealing back what the fool had squandered.
He sucked the air right out of her lungs, his kiss so consuming it devoured her like she was the rarest delicacy in the Seven Kingdoms. His teeth nipped at her plump lower lip until he tasted the faint tang of her submission.
Finally, he broke the kiss for breath, his hands already moving to loosen the knots behind her back that cinched her gown tight, his fingers impatient as he tugged them free. Once it slackened, he pushed the luxurious fabric off her shoulders, watching as it pooled in a silken heap at her ankles, leaving her utterly exposed.
Seven fucking mothers and their tits! Fuck!
He was shocked, aroused, and fucking starving. His eyes were feasting on her like a man possessed. She had the body of a mother, the most beautiful, fuckable mother imaginable, curvy in ways that made his balls ache. Her breasts flared out big and round, showing just the faintest sag that only made them look cushiony and inviting, and there, at the red, bitable nipples, a bead of white nectar glistened.
Below her lush breasts was her belly, not like some untouched virgin's, but soft with the arousing flesh of a woman who had borne children, squishy but shapely, drawing his gaze downward to her barely concealed loins. Her thighs were thick and soft, the same ones he'd buried his face between before. Now, seeing the faintest stretch marks on her skin, it only heightened her as a trophy, a prize that screamed ripe, breedable maturity.
He felt pure joy when Alerie's hands trembled, moving to shield her dripping nipples from his stare. It was her last flicker of modesty that made Bronn's grin widen.
Bronn quickly grabbed her wrists, pushing her arms apart, urging her to bare those magnificent tits to his hungry eyes. He nodded, smiling with false piety. "The Seven are delighted. Mother above the most, for she is about to bless the body of a mother prepared."
Shamelessly, he leaned down and suckled her swells, his mouth latching onto one swollen nipple with a wet smack.
He felt her hands waver for a moment, as if looking for something to hold on to, to ground herself, to hide. But standing there, right in the middle of the chamber, she was helpless. And he fucking loved it.
He sucked hard, drawing out that sweet milk in greedy pulls. His tongue swirling around the hardened peak as if to mock her nobility, proving his dominance. All the while, his free hand kneaded the other breast, pinching and twisting until more nectar leaked and trickled down her skin.
"Oh!" A sound escaped her lips, her voice breaking the silence like a crack in marble.
Such a lovely fucking moan… Again, sing for me. Earn your bloody blessing. Heh…
Bronn reveled in the power of it. A bastard with some tricks, turning the Lady of Highgarden into his personal, dripping plaything. He switched to the other nipple, biting down just enough to make her gasp, lapping at the warm nectar that flooded his tongue as he ground his hardness against her body. His hands kept her in place, ensuring she felt every degrading pull of his mouth on her flesh.
Bronn's hands claimed her breasts with rough greed. He squeezed and massaged both heavy mounds, his fingers digging into the cloud-like flesh until more milk spurted free, making a slick, messy chaos of it all. His mouth switched between flushed buttons in slurping pulls that drew out rivulets of her nectar. Half his face soon glistened and smeared with white, while both her swells glistened, especially the deep valley between them where the milk pooled and dripped, turning her noble skin into a filthy canvas of maternal sin.
After he'd drunk his fill, Bronn stood straight again, his hands shifting to her shoulders as he pushed down with firm insistence, guiding her to her knees.
"The Seven desire your maternal nectar to coat the holy phallus," Bronn intoned with a smirk hidden behind pious words.
Confused yet willing, Alerie sank to her knees, her body now nude save for her lower smallcloth, her knees landing on the crumpled heap of her discarded gown. She rose up slightly on them, positioning herself higher so her lush, milk-slick mounds perfectly aligned with his throbbing cock.
"Coat them between your lush mounds, my Lady. Squeeze them with your hands," Bronn ordered, stepping forward to lay his veined, iron-hard shaft into the deep, wet valley of her breasts.
She complied without a word, her expression still a nervous hesitation. Her delicate hands pressed her heavy tits together around his cock, enveloping him in a soft, slippery embrace that sent a shiver through his core.
Bronn loved it. His knees shuddered from pure bliss as her warm, soft mounds squeezed around his throbbing length. It was a gorgeous sight. Alerie's fingers dimpled her own flesh, her tits bulging around him in obscene perfection, every vein on his shaft pulsing against the creamy slickness that made the slide so sinfully smooth.
"Ummh! Now move," Bronn grunted.
Alerie's mind was swirling with questions. Why were the Gods demanding this from her? She could imagine kneeling to take him in her mouth, or even spreading her legs for a proper bedding, but why this, with her milk spilling and coating everything in such a messy, dirty way?
She didn't doubt the Seven's Angel, however. That entire day, she had lingered in her beloved son's bedchamber, watching with tearful awe as he woke up, as Septon Bronn commanded Willas to move his leg and demonstrate the miraculous change, beaming with joy as her son declared the renewed strength he felt.
Slosh! Slosh!
She squeezed her magnificent breasts together with growing resolve, the dirty sound echoing in wet, rhythmic slicks as her milk-lubricated mounds slid up and down his shaft. Her eyes lifted to meet his as the Lord Septon thrust his hips forward, driving his cock through the tight, slippery channel of her breasts. Then, she glanced down, mesmerized and flushed, watching his swollen cockhead peek out between her heaving mounds over and over. The swollen tip beading with pre-cum that mingled with her nectar in a filthy, glistening trail.
And right there, on her knees, she made up her mind. If the Seven wanted to be pleasured this way, she would please them without reservation. It was their divine right after healing her son. Now, it was time to show them a mother's unwavering devotion, her body an offering to the gods.
"Uggggh… Seven! Holiness!"
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