A shy flush darkened Bellegere's cheeks. The unrivaled courtesan, shy. She hooked her thumbs under the bunched fabric at her waist and eased it lower, over the gentle curve of her smooth belly. For a man of Westeros, that chocolate-kissed skin was the rarest spice. Warm, velvety, begging for bruises shaped like fingerprints.
"Turn around, my lady. Let the Gods see your child-bearing hips," Bronn commanded, already shrugging his septon's robe over his head and kicking his trousers free. His cock was already standing at full mast.
Bellegere turned, slow and obedient, presenting the elegant line of her back and the mouth-watering swell of her ass.
"Come closer."
She took one step back.
"More."
Another, until her calves brushed the edge of the low settee and she stood framed between his spread knees.
Bronn's hands flexed in the air, fingers clawing at nothing, desperate to grab, to spread that moldable flesh.
She bent forward, graceful as a dancer, letting her heavy breasts sway under her. Her fingers pushed the gown the rest of the way down, over the flare of her hips, until the silk pooled at her feet.
Every inch of her light-brown skin was flawless. Smooth as polished amber, not a single blemish. And that ass, gods, a perfect peach split by a cleft, round and firm. Her pussy came into view between them. Bare, plump lips guarding a slick, rosy seam already glistening.
The sweet-sharp scent of her filled Bronn's lungs. His cock flexed against his belly, his mind aching to bury his face in that scorching heat.
Bronn swallowed hard. He loved nothing more than burying his face between a woman's thighs, but only when the cunt in question belonged to some highborn who'd never had a man before. Malora's, Unella's, Lynesse's; those were the flavors he loved.
Bellegere was a courtesan, and that alone kept him from dropping to his knees. He'd feast on her later, after he'd cleansed every trace of other men from that velvet cunt with his own cock first. Besides, all he wanted to do in that moment was ram his cock in that noticeably tight slit.
Finally, she stepped free of the golden puddle at her feet and turned. Bronn had his fist wrapped around his shaft by then, stroking slow and shameless, letting her see exactly what the Seven had blessed him with. Her dark eyes dropped to it and widened, lips parting on a silent puff.
"My lady…" He reached into the pocket of his discarded robe and drew out a single perfect rose. "Eat a few petals from this."
With a lazy flick of his fingers, the rose levitated from his palm, drifting through the air like a living thing. It hovered before Bellegere's breasts, then settled gently into her hands.
The last flicker of doubt in those big, curious eyes died right there. Trembling, reverent, she brought the bloom to her mouth and devoured every petal, lips stained crimson, throat working as she swallowed it down.
Bronn chuckled and held out both hands. "Take a seat, Maiden's chosen. Take the blessing you seek so eagerly."
"Mmmh… I am so grateful."
Bellegere climbed onto him. Being a head shorter, she rose onto her knees, thighs spreading wide over his, the heat of her bare cunt brushing his cockhead. One small, elegant hand wrapped around his shaft and guided him to that slick, waiting entrance.
He stifled a filthy groan in his chest. Her puffy lips parted around his crown, then swallowed him inch by agonizing inch as she sank down, hips rolling with sinful grace. Wet silk gripped him, dragged at him, milked him with every slow descent until her plush ass finally rested on his thighs and he was buried to the base.
Bronn's hands shot to her hips, fingers digging into warm skin. Already, he could picture her in Septa's robes, standing behind his chair while he preached, every lord in the hall knowing exactly who she belonged to and unable to touch. All his.
His thumb slid lower, tracing the tight, forbidden ring between her cheeks. Soon, but not tonight. Tonight, he wanted to drown in that perfect cunt. He had three months, and tonight was just the beginning.
Bellegere started to move. She rode him in slow, grinding circles that churned his cock deep, then long strokes that dragged her slick walls up his shaft and finally slammed herself back down. Each rise lifted her soft breasts, each fall sent them bouncing, nipples grazing his chest. Her cunt fluttered and squeezed in rippling waves, hot and greedy, sucking at him like it wanted to suck his soul out.
Bronn sank back against the cushions and let his gaze feast on the heavy brown swells swaying inches from his face. Without a word, Bellegere leaned forward, offering them like ripe fruit.
He latched onto one dark nipple, sucking hard, tongue lathering the stiff peak until it throbbed against his teeth. He moved to the other, greedy, already picturing them leaking sweet milk while he fucked her.
"Mmmmh…" Bellegere moaned.
"Let the Gods know the taste of your tongue, my Bellegere," he muttered against her wet skin. Indeed, 'my', for she belonged to him now. Only she hadn't realized it yet.
Bellegere smiled seductively, her midnight hair cascading over both of them like a curtain. Then she leaned in, and her mouth found his, stained crimson from the rose.
Bronn groaned into the kiss. He tasted the petals still clinging to her tongue, sweet and slippery, and fucking Seven hells, it went straight to his cock. She tried to take control, her tongue curling against his, but he pressed a rough thumb against the tight star of her ass, and she jolted.
That was all he needed. He surged forward, claiming her mouth, fucking it with his tongue. Deep, relentless, claiming every corner.
"Ugh." The sound tore out of him, balls drawing up tight, ready to flood her.
But Bellegere beat him to it.
Her whole body seized, thighs clamping around his hips, cunt gripping down on his cock in violent, rolling spasms.
"Ohhhhh–!"
A sharp cry broke against his lips as she came, gushing hot and slick around him, juices flooding down his shaft and over his balls in messy pulses. Her nails raked his shoulders, hips jerking helplessly while her walls milked him in greedy waves.
"Oh, Seven! Soothe this womb for the offering!" Bronn snarled when he felt the merciless squeeze of her climax, slamming his hips up to chase that euphoria.
He hugged her down against him, arms banded around her waist, and let go. Thick ropes of seed jetted into her, squelching over and over as he pumped her full, the overflow already seeping out around his buried cock, streaking her thighs and the cushions under them.
He kept pumping. But right when Bellegere exhaled a breath of calm, he moved. In a single brutal motion, he stood. He lifted her with him, cock still lodged deep.
She gasped as he spun them, dropping her onto her back on the settee. Pillows scattered. Her legs splayed wide, and he planted his feet on the floor, never once slipping free of that drenched pussy.
"The ritual… shall continue… my Bellegere."
"Oh, yes! Gods… oh, bless me!" Her arms flew around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him down.
Bronn drove into her like a battering ram. The settee groaned below, wood creaking with every savage thrust. This wasn't a ritual; this was raw, filthy rutting, two bodies slapping together in a slick, wet frenzy.
Her tits bounced wildly, nipples grazing his chest; her cunt made greedy, sucking sounds each time he pulled back and punched forward again.
Squelch! Srkl! Plap!
Bellegere's legs locked high around his back, heels digging into his spine, urging him deeper. No man had ever taken her like this, merciless and overwhelming. She'd spent years on top, setting the pace, keeping control. Now Bronn was buried to the hilt with every thrust, battering against her womb, stretching her until she felt him in her throat.
Bronn crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing her cries, stealing her breath.
"Ungh! Ungh!" Each grunt punched out of her with the force of his hips.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, only felt the thick cock splitting her open, the heavy balls slapping her asscheeks, the brutal rhythm ruining every other cock for her. And still she clung tighter, legs trembling, cunt twitching again, already climbing toward another shattering edge.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
Bronn's hips kept pistoning like a machine that forgot how to stop.
Their mouths tore apart on a shared gasp. Bellegere's gaze dropped between the frantic bounce of her own breasts. She watched, dazed, as his glistening flesh sword slid out to the flared crown, dragging strings of cream, then slammed home again, burying itself to the root in one brutal stroke. The warmth blooming low in her belly told her everything, he was already blessing her.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" The words spilled out of her in a broken chant, mind gone, body surrendered. Her second climax struck like a storm, her cunt seized, spasmed, then gushed.
A hot, clear flood burst around his pistoning cock, squirting in messy arcs that drenched his shaft, splashed his belly, and soaked his balls. Her juices washed him clean and filthy all at once.
She throbbed wildly, thighs shaking, words reduced to a garbled, "Se-ven—Bronn–uunnnh! Bles—ssaaaah!"
Squelch! Plap! Shhhrk!
He never slowed, riding the slippery torrent, eyes locked on her ruined, blissful face. He was at a limit too, the last for the night. And more than filling her, he wanted to watch his virile seed paint her brown skin white.
"Gaaaaaah! On knees!"