Work Text:
Lyonel Baratheon both loved and hated his job as a broker. He loved the prestige of it. The large paycheck, the traveling, the high profile events; the boons were obvious. The banes, however, plagued him and him alone. The long nights at the home office, the weekends away, the parties full of empty faces and emptier words. Most dire of all consequences: being away from his darling wife.
You were a minx in every sense of the word. You were a tangle that he loved to tease. You were the retort to the proposition. You were the take and he relished in giving.
Well, when you were good that is…
You were on your best behavior. Minding the home you two kept in your well worn sweater of a marriage. You expected much the same from your husband when he texted you that his flight had just landed. At this point in the relationship, you knew exactly how long it would take for the car to being him home.
You decided to change up your good girl attitude capriciously. The two of you hadn't had a full weekend to yourselves in months and you were beginning to yearn the loss of date night. Besides…
He likes you bad as much as he does good…
You find one of his nice work shirts in your shared closet; fine linen dyed a deep mustard. Securing the first two buttons up at the top, you leave the rest open to hint at what little clothing you left on as you waited for him. You had on a pair of lacy underwear on in your favorite color along with a bralette in a similar hue.
Your bare feet pad on cool hardwood floors as you make your way out of your shared bedroom. The halls of your home were swathed in warm yellows and burnt umbers, stag and antler motifs everywhere. Pushing the door to his home office open, slightly underutilized thanks to his more recent travel schedule.
You sigh in contentment as you feel the plush carpet underfoot and walk over towards a wine rack on the side wall. Your dominant index finger scans labels upon labels to find just the right bottle to pilfer. The painted nail stops and you smirk at the perfect victim; a Cabernet sauvignon from a brand called Stag's Leap Wine Cellars from five years ago.
Your bad idea continues to develop as you grab two wine glasses only to hide one of them in a pull out drawer in the desk. A hiss leaves your lips as you feel the cool black leather of his comically ostentatious desk chair against the back of bare thighs. The broken seal cracks through the empty room and the pop of the cork escaping the containment of a green glass bottleneck follows.
An indulgent glass of red was poured into a stemless glass and you made yourself comfortable as you watched the hands on the clock tick down. It was only a matter of time that your husband would be home and see you in all this glory.
Lyonel Baratheon retained a sigh as his lux ride-share pulled up to his home. Instead of the vulnerability, he rewards the driver with a fat cash tip.
"Thanks for the ride. Buy yourself a drink on me. The good stuff preferably…"
The charming smile hid the fatigue and exhaustion of a long flight. What made it worse was that sleep was far from his mind as he exited the car and walked up the driveway. His gold ringed left hand finds the knot of his silk vermilion tie and with a tug the public facing charisma falls off.
He enters his home with something much more real on his face as his eyes scan the landing for any sign of your presence.
"Love? Are we hiding again..?" A genuine grin works it's way onto his face at the idea of this game again. Lyonel loved being challenged and tested; his best work was done under pressure.
Mr. Baratheon abandons any evidence of his work at the door. The black blazer, briefcase, and polished loafers were left behind as he began to search the house for you with barely hidden glee.
The first-most place he goes to look is the master bedroom and the attached bath. More than once you had surprised him with yourself in a bubble bath, hair coiffed just so with one of his favorite wines at your side in his place.
Lyonel hated being bored above all else and you loved playing with him as much as he did you. A huff escapes him at the wrong answer being placed before him until he notices the closet door ajar. Investigating further, he notices an empty hanger and he smiles so wide he hurts his face.
You had swiped one of his shirts. He wondered what more or less you had on with it…
A resonant laugh leaves his throat as a hand rises to stroke his salt and pepper beard in appreciation. On that same floor, you hear your husband's jolly chuckle reverberate through the walls. As long as you've known the man, his laugh was distinct and oh so beautiful…
That laugh sealed the tightest of business deals and secured his spot among the top brass of his financial company. A well placed one with the right amount of a smile did most of the work for him; the natural wit did the rest.
You weren't permitted to think too much longer on your husband's work strategies as the door to the office was confidently pushed open. You see his mixed media curls, coils of umber were spun with silver that made up most of his body hair at this age. He began to gray young but that never bothered him; he always joked that it was his "seasoning".
His bronze skin was complimented by what was left of his more comfortable business casual. Lyonel hated tight tailoring; much preferring items like full cut ebony wool slacks and easily undone soft ties. Said goldenrod silk was loose about his collar with a couple buttons of the bone button up undone in his zeal to be home.
Your husband was as devastatingly handsome as the day you first saw him…
"A thief. Such a pretty one too…" A pleased smirk crosses his face as he watches you sat in his chair; sipping his wine and wearing his shirt like they were yours.
"We have to stop meeting like this. Especially since you have such nice things to sample…" You toyed with him back as a finger glides along the rim of a wine glass. You had your legs crossed and upper half was leaning on one of your arms perched on an arm rest.
"I'll put a lock next time." Lyonel approaches the desk before patting the chair sat on the other side. This one was nowhere near as ornate as the one you sat in.
"May I?"
"I'll allow it…" You couldn't help but show your pleasure with the little game. He had much worse impulse control than you. The question wasn't who would break, it was how short his patience ran today…
As a small reward for him asking permission to sit, you produce the other wine glass from within the drawers and fill it for him.
"Pretty and gracious? If I had less sense, I would marry such a thief like you."
Lyonel beams as you slide the wine glass over to him. The burgundy liquid ran like blood towards his lips and he took a heavy mouthful before swallowing. He didn't even taste it; must have been a long day…
"Marry me?" You return to him to keep the illusion alive, a shadow of a giggle in your voice.
"A little late for that, I think…"
You raise your own glass as you show off the impressive wedding set he only added to as the years went on.
"Then I really do have less sense. All these years we play at this and I never bothered to ask…"
Lyonel tuts at himself in mock disappointment as he takes a much more intentional sip. He finally tastes the sweet blackberries and cherries in the Cabernet, relieving a well earned sigh of contentment. He always thought you had good taste in wine.
He leans forward with a lazy grin like he was the hunter and you the doe. Long legs of his spread despite one over the other, an intentional shift of his hips wavers your attention.
"You think we can at least pretend at mommy and daddy for awhile? You already act plenty like my wife. Sat in my chair, drinking my wine, toying with my cock…"
Your lips part obscenely and your blood bumps up a few degrees in temperature. A twinkle in his eye confirmed that he had you, that boyish swagger that got him in as much trouble as it got him out. Goosebumps broke out across your skin and suddenly the leather beneath you got a little clammier. The twinkle quickly evolved into a lightning strike amidst his stormy eyes; the audacity growing by the moment.
"Or," Lyonel starts before downing his glass of wine and standing up to walk around the desk.
"Let's stop pretending," he finishes that statement with your name on wine stained lips. As he drew nearer you could smell the intoxicating aroma of burnt ozone, strong bourbon with citrus, and rich sandalwood oil.
Your thighs quiver as you watch his hands and hear his words. Strong experienced hands trailed along the edge of the desk in a merciless mimicry and a tilt in his smirk suggested he had already won. Your poor lusty brain was focused on how good you knew those hands made you feel. Lacy panties were soaked just at the thought of riding his fingers like a horny teenager.
"Y- You stink of bourbon," you attempt to deflect as you watch your husband toy with you like a cat messing with a mouse.
"True. I did have a double on the plane and a shot in the car." Your husband gets on his knees before you and warm hands move up your legs starting from the calf.
"I needed to loosen up a bit and I think you need to too." His hands pries your legs open once he reaches your knees and you allow him to do so. A hiss escapes your lips as your hot core feels the sudden rush of cold air through your panties.
"Fuck, maybe you already did a little…"
"You kept me waiting," you bite out. Another swallow of wine attempts to cool your nerves, but your husband knew you too well. He pushes another button, this time a lazy open mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh starring his goatee.
"And I apologize. I had a layover and I would have flown here myself if my arms had let me…" His joke relieved a more wholehearted laugh which allowed him the perfect opportunity to sneak his right hand in-between your legs to tease at your lower lips.
"H- Hah!" You exclaim as you arch your back into his long fingers. Skin was already growing hot and your resolve was slipping the longer this went on. The now damp lace pressed into your core tortuously and you whined as you felt him move further south, away from your clit.
"F- Fuck me! God, Lyonel…"
"Oh? Giving orders now, are we?" Your husband stares up at you with a shit-eating grin as he continues to feel how soaked your entrance was.
"Oh, you are randy, my love… All this, just for me?"
Lyonel finally allows himself to fully appraise you now that he was so close. Mustard linen against your skin was a feast for the eyes, suggestions of your own favorite color poking out were all the more enticing. The part in your lips, the flush in your face that was beginning to spread elsewhere, the heave in your chest. His wool pants were growing increasingly tight and brimming with heat.
"I missed you. We haven't had a weekend together in so long…"
The confession tumbles from your lips which fans the famous Baratheon zeal. He rewards you with his fingers passing through dyed lace and skin on skin contact. A moan rides out from deep in your throat as you feel him where you needed him most. His fingertips rub your clit just the way you liked and your head fell back against the back of the leather chair in appreciation.
"Consider my next two weekends free. Tonight, however, you're not leaving our bed."
For emphasis, his free hand dives into his pants pocket and switches his phone onto silent before flinging it across the room. The clatter was cut off by a sharp rip of fabric, his warm hands removing fine lace inelegantly in his haste. Patience he might have had a little more of any other day was far from his mind now. With one quick movement, he hoisted one leg over his shoulder and pulls your hips forward.
"Before that, I need a palate cleanse." A wink before the next moment you feel the hot flat of a tongue on your core.
"Ahh! Fuck! Lyonel!" You buckle under his ministrations and your legs open to allow him that much deeper within. A rumble like thunder vibrates against you, a line of wine tinted drool leaves the corner of you mouth at the sensation. He was laughing that damn laugh as he ate you out. You could feel everything from the resonance in his chest from your heel against his back to the facial hair against your own pubic.
You could never stay too mad at him, especially when he was as good at making it up to you. His next devious move was suckling his lips around your clit which made you squeal in delight. A hot knot was forming in the pit of your belly at his attention and with one final swell of pleasure, you feel yourself come on his tongue.
With thighs twitching and heavy panting, he grants you a small bit of mercy with relieving his lips from your weeping cunt. The wide grin returns, black and white facial hair now covered in you, and he revels in the vision of his wife so thoroughly undone by him.
"Fucking beautiful, you are. As beautiful as the day I first saw you."
You couldn't indulge in the smile for too long before you yelp in surprise as your husband scoops you up in his arms over his shoulder. It was only then were you reminded just how tall your husband was in the moment. He stood well over six feet tall (six five, as he loved to boast) and seeing everything from his shoulder only enforced why he was so audacious about the world around him.
Lyonel then slapped your bare ass hard enough to sting and to earn a yelp.
"Quiet now, hm? Looks like I fucked the trouble out of you quickly today." You could hear the victorious grin in his tone and you wiggled a bit in his grasp in protest.
"The wine and smelling your shirt gave you a head start…" Your face was hot with embarrassment and fluster as he carried you through your home to the master bedroom.
"If you made me come that fast, I'd say something like that too."
You let out a sound of indignation before his hand finds your cunt and he teases you on the walk through the doorway to the master bedroom. Not even bothering to close the door in his enthusiasm, he drops you on the marital bed with minimal grace before closing the distance between you instantly.
The taste of yourself on his tongue mixed with the wine brought a thrill that made your head spin. Your clit began to throb in need once again. A whine joined the moans from your throat as you felt your core tighten around nothing.
In another show of grace, his hand returns between your legs and his middle and ring finger enters you from above. Your body accepts him in an eager reunion, a loud moan is swallowed by him as he curls fiendishly into a bundle of nerves within. Before you know it, he's worked you into another fever pitch and another orgasm was just around the corner.
As quickly as he started to work you up, he stopped and removed his fingers from you. Such was the nature of your beloved husband, a man who loved to indulge where he could and move on just as quick. As he tore off his own clothes, he gazed upon you awestruck with only one idea on his mind. His fingers found the two buttons you buttoned and quickly opened his shirt then discarded your bra.
Now that he was undressed you finally had the opportunity to drink in your husband's form. A thick forest of silver and black chest hair covered his chest and trailed down thickly down his stomach into the bush of pubic hair. He was not as active as he would like to be thanks to his schedule, he still made a pointed interest to work out whenever he got the chance. He was still fit, but the comforts of the life he built for you shown in his rounded stomach and thick thighs. The glimmers of the gold he wore attempted to distract you; a multiple hoops in each ear, thick rings studded with topaz, and a chain that poked out when he undid his tie and buttons.
"So you'll tear apart my underwear, but save your shirt?" You giving him shit was interrupted by his mouth on one nipple, his teeth suggesting for just a moment before removing his lips.
"You know me better than that, love. I always buy what I break."
Another knowing wink sends a surge of blood to your face as you remembered your honeymoon. You know: where you and your giant rambunctious husband rocked the bridal suite of your resort so hard for two weeks that the check hit five digits.
"Wait!" You stop him before he gets too into it.
"I wanna be on top," you say the magic words that slack his jaw.
"God, I love you."
Lyonel smirks before rolling the both of you over so you were on top of him. Your core was perfectly positioned over his large cock and you returned his expression. Slowly, you lower your hips and sink onto your husband's dick one inch at a time. You hear him groan with you as you settle atop him and hips grow flush.
You wear your own expression of victory as you began to ride him. Soft sighs and bubbling moans pour out of you enthusiastically. Reveling in watching his unburdened pleasure added to your own, only amplified as his large hands leave tingly brands on your ass after every spank. Your core ate him up and drowned him in a thick heat he had gotten lost in hours before.
Once you completed a rock of your hips, he makes you gasp with a devilish thrust upwards. Lyonel more than bottoms out within and he chuckles deeply at your reaction. You wanted everything in you to maintain some semblance of control atop him, but that look in his eye spelled trouble. With another twitch of his smirk, his hands clamp down onto your hips and he rocks upwards again.
You tremble and the flat of your palms finds his warm torso covered in thick salt and pepper hair. A rush of your spend leaks around him after that thrust into your g-spot. The prior acts had you more than warmed up for multiple orgasms. Sometimes it felt like he was competing with himself for how many times he could make you come.
Seeing a moment of opportunity, your husband rolled you two over and perched the leg he chose earlier over his shoulder again. You were far too drunk on lust and wine to care about the position change, especially since you knew he loved to be in charge once you were loosened up a little.
"You don't mind, love?" Lyonel asks impishly before he finds your clit to swirl with his thumb. You answer him with an arch of your back and your eyes rolling back. That makes him laugh from his chest, the sound ringing through the room like a church bell.
"Didn't think so." Your husband thrusts into you with one hand supporting your leg and the other now gripping your hip. This was your favorite part about your rolls in the hay as much as it was his; the way pleasure melded with reality and the whole world fell away.
Lidded eyes find his and there is a gentleness within his maelstrom that only you really got to see. The man who felt so much and felt no need to hide it with you. The man who would happily throw it all away to do whatever you wanted, especially if it was different day by day. Even if it wasn't he would want it all with you…
"Lyonel…" You sigh as he meets your hips again; a lightning strike jolting your spine and sending aftershocks throughout like a ripple. Your body moved automatically against him and tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes from the aching kiss of the head of his cock deep within.
Lyonel chuckles again before turning his head to your leg on his shoulder. Orchestrating the return of the assault of open mouthed kisses that devolve into a hickey being made on the inside of your thigh towards the knee. That thumb of his returns at the task at hand combined with the increase of pace in his thrusts made it harder to think straight due to overstimulation. You knew he was close too; he just liked working you up this far to see just how high you could get. As if such a rush flowed into him by being able to invoke such rapture.
You feel your end come with an apex of his thumb and an arch of your back that rubbed his dick against you in ways that would make a devotee to Dionysus flush. He floods you as you tighten around him, his end breaking against him akin to a sheer cliff bearing the beat of the tides. He cries out your name like it was last call and no one wanted the party to end.
The exhaustion of his activities combined with jet lag catch up to him in an instant. Lyonel pulls out and flops next to you as elegantly as he could of a man his size. He was nearly purring and his warm muscled body beckons you against it like a siren song.
You turn to face and cuddle him, only to be met with comically loud snoring and his face buried into an olive yellow pillowcase. With a roll of your eyes, you grab your own pillow and smack him with it which breaks the facade immediately. Lyonel busting out into a hearty throat laugh that was more than heard through them.
"I joke, but I'm nearly there already. You wore me out, wifey…" His statement is punctuated by a loud bray of a yawn before he wraps a thick arm around your waist and slides you over to him. Your pillow returned to you, but with his other arm beneath them it was nearly two pillows worth of support.
"If pussy puts you to sleep, that means I did my job." This time the laughter was contained to a chuckle meant only for you as he brings your head under his own. The rumble in his chest combined with his heartbeat the most intimate of white noise to put you to sleep.
"A worthwhile skill. Quite an effective one."
You could tell that his consciousness was not much longer for the plane of wakefulness considering how heavy his arm felt. Lyonel's body heat making the bed toasty warm and the gentle glow of post-orgasm bliss made the perfect cocktail for tandem deep sleep.
"I'm glad your home," You tell him as your eyes fight to stay open and take him in that much longer.
"I love you, Lyonel…"
"Mmh, love you too…" Lyonel mumbles his final waking words into your hair as he is finally lulled to sleep by the comforts of home.