Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Loras Tyrell

The air in Summerhall’s solar hung thick with the scent of oiled steel and summer roses, the last light of the setting sun bleeding through the tall windows like spilled wine. Jaehaerys Targaryen stood in the center of the room, arms raised, while Ser Loras Tyrell worked the buckles of his breastplate with practiced fingers. The newest Kingsguard—barely a year in the white cloak—had been assigned as the prince’s sworn shield the moment King Aerys had decided his second grandson needed watching. Loras had accepted the honor with a bow and a smile that hid the storm beneath.

Now the storm was a dull, constant ache between his ribs.

Jae’s armor came away piece by piece. First the gorget, then the pauldrons, revealing the black tunic beneath, damp with sweat and clinging to the hard lines of his chest. Dark hair, Targaryen-straight but thick as a northerner’s, curled at the nape of his neck. His shoulders were broad, scarred from tourney and skirmish alike, and Loras loved how perfectly they filled his hands as he lifted the final plates free.

“Gods, my shoulders,” Jae muttered, rolling them with a wince. “That last tilt against the Dondarrion boy nearly wrenched the damn things off.”

Loras set the armor on its stand, the white cloak whispering against his thighs. His mouth was dry. “I can ease them, Your Highness. If you’ll allow it.”

Jae turned, violet eyes—Rhaegar’s eyes, but sharper—catching Loras’s. “You’re not my nursemaid, Ser Loras.”

“No,” Loras said, voice low. “But I am your shield. Let me shield you from pain, at least.”

A beat of silence. Then Jae exhaled, shrugging out of the tunic himself. The firelight painted gold across his skin, tracing the ridges of muscle down his stomach, the faint trail of dark hair disappearing beneath the laces of his breeches. Loras’s cock twitched traitorously against the confines of his own armor.

“Fine,” Jae said, dropping onto the edge of the wide bed. “But only because Allyria’s not here to do it herself.”

The name landed like a lance to the gut. Allyria Dayne. The paramour. The one the prince spent more time with than his wife Princess Daenerys (though the princess was hardly sulking, she was likely off somewhere in Essos getting fucked by her harem of sellswords).

He stepped behind the prince anyway, placing both hands on those broad shoulders. The skin was fever-hot, smooth over corded muscle. Loras dug his thumbs in, slow and deep, and Jae groaned—low, filthy, the sound going straight to Loras’s groin.

“Seven hells, that’s good.”

Loras worked in silence at first, kneading the knots loose, feeling the prince relax beneath him. But his hands wandered. A thumb brushed the nape of Jae’s neck. Fingers traced the line of his spine. Jae’s breathing changed.

“You’re shaking,” Jae observed quietly.

Loras swallowed. “It’s nothing, Jae.”

“Jae.” The word was soft, intimate, and forbidden. “You only call me that when you forget yourself.”

Loras’s hands stilled. “I never forget myself. I’m sworn. You’re the prince. I’m—” He drew a shaky breath, then let the words tumble out before duty could choke them. “I can ease all of your tensions, Jae. Not just the shoulders. Let me take care of you.”

Jae went very still. “Loras… no. Allyria—”

Loras circled around to face him, dropping to his knees between the prince’s spread thighs before Jae could pull away. The stone floor was cold through his breeches, but the heat rolling off Jae’s body more than made up for it. Up close, the bulge in Jae’s laces was unmistakable, already thickening despite the hesitation in his eyes.

“You don’t have to,” Jae said, voice rough with guilt. His hand hovered near Loras’s golden curls, trembling as if torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. “I’ve never… with a man. This isn’t right. I love her. I shouldn’t—”

“I know,” Loras murmured, eyes locked on Jae’s face. He could see the flicker of uncertainty there, the way the prince’s jaw tightened with shame. It only made the hunger sharper, the need to claim this moment fiercer. “But you’re aching, Jae. Let me ease it. Please.”

Jae’s breath hitched, violet eyes dark with conflict. “This is treason. You’re my sworn shield. She… she trusts me…”

Loras didn’t wait for more protests. His fingers worked the laces open with reverent care, freeing Jae’s cock—thick and heavy, the biggest Loras had ever seen, already flushed dark and curving up against his stomach. The head glistened with the first bead of wetness. Loras’s mouth watered at the sight.

He leaned in, lips brushing the underside of that girthy shaft, then opened wide and took Jae deep in one smooth, determined glide. The girth stretched his lips obscenely, but Loras didn’t stop—didn’t hesitate. He relaxed his throat and swallowed the prince down to the root, nose pressing into the dark curls at Jae’s base, the thick cock buried fully in the tight heat of his throat.

Jae’s groan was broken, shocked. “Fuck—Loras—” His hand finally fisted in Loras’s golden curls, not pushing away, but gripping hard as his hips twitched forward despite the guilt twisting his face. “Gods… I can’t—Allyria would kill me for this…”

Loras hummed around the impossible thickness, the vibration rippling along Jae’s length. He pulled back just enough to breathe, then sank down again, throat convulsing as he deepthroated every inch of that big cock with filthy, devoted strokes. Saliva spilled from the corners of his mouth, dripping down Jae’s heavy balls as Loras bobbed faster, throat working rhythmically, taking him deeper each time until his nose ground against Jae’s pelvis.

Jae’s thighs trembled, violet eyes half-lidded with guilty pleasure. “This is wrong… I love her… but your mouth—seven hells, it’s so tight—”

Loras moaned encouragement around the shaft, one hand cupping Jae’s balls while the other braced on a muscled thigh. He swallowed convulsively, milking the thick cock with his throat, determined to make Jae forget everything but the wet heat wrapped around him. Jae’s hips stuttered, fucking shallowly into Loras’s face now, guilt warring with raw need.

“I shouldn’t want this,” Jae panted, voice wrecked, fingers tightening painfully in Loras’s hair. “I shouldn’t—”

But he did. His cock throbbed harder, swelling even thicker in Loras’s throat as he neared the edge. Loras took it all, gagging softly but never pulling off, throat fluttering around the head until Jae came with a strangled groan of his name. Hot, thick pulses flooded Loras’s throat; he swallowed every drop greedily, milking him through the spasms until Jae was spent and shuddering, chest heaving with shame and release.

Only then did Loras pull off slowly, lips swollen and shiny with spit, pressing a final soft kiss to the softening cock. He rested his cheek against Jae’s thigh, breathing hard, the taste of his prince still coating his tongue.

Jae’s hand stroked through his hair, gentler now but trembling. “What have I done?” he murmured, voice hoarse with guilt. “Allyria… gods forgive me.”

Loras smiled against the sweat-damp skin, heart pounding with dark satisfaction. “Let me, Jae,” he whispered. “Every night she’s gone. I’ll keep your secrets.”

Outside, the torches of Summerhall flickered on, but inside the solar the only light was the dying fire and the slow, steady beat of two hearts learning how to sin in perfect, secret rhythm.

Dinner with Guests

The great hall of Summerhall glowed under torchlight and the soft flicker of beeswax candles, the long table laid with silver plates, roasted quail glistening in herb sauce, and flagons of Arbor gold that caught the fire like liquid amber. Ser Loras Tyrell stood at rigid attention two paces behind Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen’s high-backed chair, white cloak draped over his shoulders, hand resting on the pommel of his longsword. The newest Kingsguard. The sworn shield. The man who had swallowed every drop of his prince’s spend only hours earlier, throat still faintly raw from the thick, veined length of Jae’s cock stretching him open.

Now he watched as Jae laughed low and easy, violet eyes soft with open affection as he leaned sideways to murmur something against Allyria Dayne’s ear. Her pale fingers rested possessively on his wrist; he covered them with his own, thumb stroking slow circles over her knuckles. If a stranger had walked in, they would have sworn the pair were wed—husband and wife in every lingering glance, every shared sip from the same goblet, every brush of Jae’s dark hair against her cheek when he bent to kiss the corner of her mouth. Allyria smiled up at him, radiant in her Dornish silks, and Jae’s hand slid lower, resting openly on her thigh beneath the tablecloth.

Loras’s jaw tightened until it ached.

Across the table sat Lord Orton Merryweather, a bulbous, unfortunate man whose large, lumpy nose dominated his face like a misshapen beet. His messy orange-red hair stuck out in untidy tufts no comb could tame, and he kept dabbing at his sweating brow with a handkerchief, laughing too loudly at his own feeble jokes. Beside him—radiating heat like a brazier—was Lady Taena Merryweather.

She was a vision carved for sin. As tall as Allyria, but far more lushly built, her olive-skinned breasts swelled generously against the low, Myrish-cut bodice of her gown, the dark fabric clinging to every curve of her shapely hips and long, long legs. Thick black hair cascaded in glossy waves down her back, framing a face of sharp, sultry beauty: large, dark eyes that glittered with mischief, full lips stained deep red, and white teeth that flashed when she laughed—that rich, throaty laugh that seemed to vibrate straight into a man’s groin. She drank deeply from her wine cup, tongue darting out to catch a stray drop, and her Myrish accent curled around every word like smoke.

“My prince,” Taena purred, leaning forward so the candlelight gilded the deep valley between her breasts, “you honor us with your presence tonight. Such a strong, handsome man should never dine alone… though I see the Lady Allyria keeps you most excellently entertained.” Her dark eyes flicked over Jae with open hunger, ignoring her husband entirely. “Tell me, have you ever tasted Myrish figs dipped in honey? They are almost indecently sweet. I would be delighted to have some sent to your chambers… or perhaps feed them to you myself.”

Orton gave a nervous chuckle, his bulbous nose twitching. “My lady wife is too generous, Your Highness. The figs, I mean.”

Taena’s throaty laugh rolled out again as she waved a dismissive hand, her gaze never leaving Jae. “Hush, Orton. The prince does not need your dull observations. He needs… stimulation.” She took another slow sip of wine, lips wrapping around the rim of the goblet with deliberate sensuality. “You look tense tonight, my prince, despite the lovely company at your side. Those broad shoulders of yours carry the weight of the realm, no doubt. If ever you require a woman’s hands—or anything else—to ease them…”

Jae smiled politely, but his hand remained on Allyria’s thigh, squeezing gently as if to anchor himself. He lifted Allyria’s fingers to his lips, kissing each one with open devotion, and she leaned into him, her head resting briefly on his shoulder like any devoted wife. “I am well cared for, my lady,” he said, voice warm, but Loras caught the faint flush at the base of his throat—the same flush that had colored his skin when he spilled down Loras’s throat earlier, groaning in guilty pleasure.

Loras stood motionless, every muscle locked, but inside he burned. The memory of Jae’s thick cock—hot, heavy, stretching his lips obscenely wide as he forced it down his throat—flooded back unbidden. The salty taste, the way it had pulsed and throbbed against his tongue, the broken sounds Jae had made even while murmuring Allyria’s name in shame. And now here the prince sat, playing the perfect paramour to the woman he loved, while Lady Taena’s dark eyes devoured him and her full lips promised pleasures Loras could only dream of giving again.

Jealousy clawed at Loras’s chest, sharp and vicious. Allyria, with her easy touches and Jae’s open affection. Taena, with her sultry glances and the way her breasts rose and fell with every breath, clearly imagining those same broad shoulders between her long legs. Both of them touching what belonged—secretly, filthily—to him. Loras’s cock twitched traitorously beneath his breeches, half-hard at the mere recollection of gagging on Jae’s length, swallowing every thick spurt while the prince gasped about treason and guilt.

He remained the perfect Kingsguard, silent and still, white cloak immaculate.

Allyria Dayne watched the exchange with the serene poise of a woman who knew her place at the prince’s side was unassailable. She was an objectively beautiful creature—long, silken dark hair spilling over one shoulder like a raven’s wing, bright purple eyes gleaming with quiet amusement, and smooth olive skin that caught the candlelight like polished Dornish marble. Where Taena was lush and overtly sultry, Allyria was elegant fire: slender yet unmistakably womanly, her low-cut gown revealing just enough of her sun-kissed cleavage to remind everyone exactly whose bed the prince warmed most nights.

She did not stiffen at Lady Taena’s blatant flirtation. If anything, the corner of her mouth curved in indulgent approval as she sipped her wine.

Taena’s dark eyes lingered on Jae’s mouth. “I only mean to be of service, my prince. A man of your… appetites deserves every indulgence.”

Before Jae could reply, Allyria set her goblet down, turned to him with a soft laugh, and cupped his jaw. Right there in front of the Merryweathers, she drew him into a slow, open-mouthed kiss. Their lips met with easy familiarity, tongues brushing just enough to make the gesture indecent. Jae’s hand tightened on her thigh beneath the table; Allyria’s fingers slid into his dark hair, holding him there a heartbeat longer than propriety allowed. When she pulled back, a thin string of saliva connected their lips for a scandalous second before it broke.

“I take great care of the prince, Lady Taena,” Allyria said, voice low and warm, bright purple eyes flicking to the Myrish woman with open camaraderie rather than jealousy. “But I would very much like a taste of those Myrish figs you speak of. Perhaps later… in more private quarters. We could share.”

Taena’s throaty laugh rolled out like velvet thunder, her full lips parting to show those perfect white teeth. “Oh, my lady, you are a delight. I knew we would understand one another.”

The sexual tension thickened until it was almost visible in the air—Taena’s heavy breasts rising and falling, Allyria’s fingers still tracing Jae’s wrist, the prince himself flushed and half-hard beneath the tablecloth if Loras’s trained eye was any judge.

Lord Orton Merryweather gave a loud, wet cough, his bulbous nose twitching violently as he dabbed at his forehead again. “Ahem. Yes. Quite. The figs. Excellent crop this year, I’m told.”

Jae cleared his throat, the guilt from hours earlier still flickering behind his violet eyes—the same eyes that had rolled back in shameful ecstasy while Loras gagged and swallowed every thick inch of his cock. He gently disentangled his hand from Allyria’s but kept his voice steady, steering the conversation like a man desperate for safer ground.

“Speaking of excellent crops, my lord,” Jae said smoothly, “tell me of Longtable. I hear the harvests have been bountiful this season. How do your fields fare under the new irrigation channels from the Mander? Any trouble with the river pirates your father once complained of?”

Orton blinked, relieved to be on solid, boring ground, and launched into a rambling account of yields and levy repairs. Taena’s dark gaze never left Jae’s face, her smile promising she had not forgotten the offer of figs—or anything else. Allyria leaned back, perfectly at ease, one hand resting high on Jae’s thigh as though marking territory she had no intention of surrendering.

Loras remained two paces behind the prince’s chair, white cloak motionless, cock once again straining against his breeches at the memory of Jae’s heavy length stretching his throat raw. The taste of him still lingered faintly on Loras’s tongue from earlier, a filthy secret while the man he loved laughed and kissed another woman in public.

The great hall of Summerhall thrummed with the low murmur of servants refilling goblets, the rich scent of spiced wine mingling with roasted meats and honeyed figs that had indeed arrived steaming on silver platters. Flagons emptied and were replaced again and again; the Arbor gold flowed freely, loosening tongues and flushing cheeks. Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen’s laughter came easier now, violet eyes bright as he traded stories with his guests, but his hand never strayed far from Allyria Dayne’s thigh beneath the tablecloth.

Lady Taena Merryweather had grown bolder with every cup. Her dark eyes never left the prince, and when Orton’s rambling account of Longtable’s irrigation faltered into a drunken mumble, she rose in one fluid motion. The Myrish silk of her gown clung to her full breasts and the generous curve of her hips as she circled the table, ignoring her husband entirely.

“My lord,” she purred to Jae, voice thick with that smoky Myrish accent, “you must allow me a closer view of the man who commands such devotion.” Without waiting for permission, she slid into the empty seat directly beside him—displacing a startled servant who had been clearing plates. Her long, olive-skinned leg brushed deliberately against Jae’s beneath the table; her heavy breast pressed softly against his arm as she leaned in, thick black hair spilling over one shoulder like an invitation.

Allyria watched with serene amusement, bright purple eyes sparkling. She took another slow sip of wine, her own elegant fingers tracing idle patterns along Jae’s wrist. “Careful, Lady Taena,” she said lightly, though her tone held no bite—only shared heat. “The prince is generous, but he is also mine to spoil.” She leaned across Jae’s lap, deliberately letting her long dark hair brush his chest, and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth right there in front of everyone. Jae’s free hand slid up to cup her cheek, returning the kiss with open affection that made the air feel thicker.

Taena’s throaty laugh rolled out, low and wicked. “Oh, I have no intention of stealing him, my lady. Only… borrowing him for a moment.” Her full, dark lips curved as she trailed one fingertip along the edge of Jae’s sleeve, tracing the line of muscle beneath. “Such strong shoulders. Such a handsome face. Tell me, Your Highness—does the Lady Allyria ever let you rest? Or does she keep you as busy as these Myrish figs keep a woman’s mouth occupied?” She plucked a honey-dripping fig from the platter and held it to Jae’s lips, her large dark eyes locked on his as the sticky sweetness glistened on her fingers.

Jae accepted the fig with a low chuckle, but Loras could see the faint flicker of guilt in those violet eyes—the same guilt that had twisted his face hours earlier while his thick cock had pulsed down Loras’s throat. Allyria merely smiled, untroubled, and fed Jae a second fig from her own hand, her smooth olive skin glowing in the candlelight as she licked a stray drop of honey from her thumb with deliberate slowness.

Loras stood two paces behind the prince’s chair, white cloak draped like a shroud, every muscle rigid. Jealousy clawed through him like a living thing. He watched Taena’s lush body press closer, her generous breasts nearly spilling from her bodice as she laughed again and let her hand rest boldly on Jae’s knee. He watched Allyria fawn just as openly—her bright purple eyes soft with love, her long dark hair falling forward to curtain her kiss as she nipped at Jae’s ear and whispered something that made the prince’s breath hitch. Both women, beautiful and bold, openly adoring the man Loras had secretly worshipped on his knees only that afternoon.

And now here Jae sat, flushed with wine and affection, letting them both touch him as if Loras’s mouth had never existed.

Lord Orton Merryweather, by contrast, had dissolved into a red-faced, sweating ruin. His bulbous nose shone with perspiration, messy orange-red hair sticking to his forehead in damp clumps. He clutched his goblet with unsteady hands, wine sloshing over the rim as he tried—and failed—to form a protest. “My lady wife… perhaps you should… return to your seat…” The words came out slurred, barely audible, before he hiccupped and slumped back, eyes glassy and unfocused. He had lost the ability to care, let alone object to the obvious disrespect unfolding inches from him.

Taena paid him no mind at all. She leaned in until her full lips nearly brushed Jae’s ear, voice a sultry murmur. “The night is still young, my prince. Longtable’s business can wait until morning… but a man’s pleasures should never wait.” Her hand slid higher on his thigh, bold as brass, while Allyria’s fingers laced through Jae’s on the other side, the two women flanking him like rival queens claiming their prize.

Jae’s laugh was warm, but Loras caught the way his shoulders tensed—just slightly—beneath the weight of wine and want and lingering guilt. The prince glanced back once, almost instinctively, violet eyes meeting Loras’s for a heartbeat.

The great hall had grown quieter, the servants moving like shadows to clear the last of the platters while the torches burned low and guttering. Flagons of Arbor gold stood half-empty, the sweet, heavy scent of wine thick in the air. Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen sat flanked by the two women, their bodies warm and close against him—Taena’s full breast still pressed to his arm, Allyria’s fingers laced possessively through his. Lord Orton Merryweather had finally slumped forward in his chair, snoring wetly into his own sleeve, his bulbous nose squashed against the tablecloth and his messy orange-red hair matted with sweat.

Jae sat up straighter, gently disentangling himself from the women’s touches. His violet eyes were bright with wine but steady as he cleared his throat. “The hour is late, my lady,” he said to Taena, voice warm yet firm. “We should retire. Tomorrow’s council will demand clear heads, and I would have us all fresh for it.”

Lady Taena pouted instantly, her full dark lips curving into a sultry moue that made her large eyes gleam with mock reproach. She leaned closer, thick black hair brushing his shoulder, one hand sliding boldly higher up his thigh beneath the table. “Oh, come now, my prince,” she purred, Myrish accent curling like smoke. “I know the fire of your youth has not failed you yet. A man like you—strong, virile—cannot possibly call the night so early. The wine is still sweet, and I have only begun to enjoy your company.”

Allyria Dayne laughed softly, bright purple eyes sparkling with easy delight rather than jealousy. Her long dark hair spilled forward as she leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to Jae’s jaw. “Nor have I,” she murmured against his skin, smooth olive fingers tracing the line of his throat where Loras’s mouth had been hours earlier. Then she turned her gaze to Taena, voice warm and inviting. “Stay with us, Lady Taena. Join us in our chamber for more wine and a game of cyvasse. The board is already set, and the night is far from over. I think we would all enjoy… extending the pleasure.”

Taena’s throaty laugh rolled out again, low and victorious, her olive skin flushing with triumph as she squeezed Jae’s thigh once more. “You are too generous, my lady. I would be delighted.”

Jae’s cheeks colored faintly, the same guilty flush Loras had seen when the prince had spilled down his throat earlier, but he said nothing—only offered a polite nod, violet eyes flicking briefly toward the white-cloaked figure behind his chair.

Allyria’s bright purple gaze lifted then, landing on Ser Loras Tyrell with cool authority. “Ser Loras,” she said, tone sweet but unmistakably commanding, “Lord Orton has clearly had his fill. Escort him safely to his chambers, if you would. The poor man is quite drunk and sleeping like a babe.”

Loras’s jaw clenched so hard it ached. He stood two paces behind the prince, white cloak immaculate, hand white-knuckled on his sword hilt. Jealousy roared through him like dragonfire. Allyria—beautiful, elegant, long dark hair framing that flawless olive face—inviting Taena into their bedchamber for wine and cyvasse, as if the night’s entertainments would involve far more than wooden pieces on a board. Taena, lush and bold, already half-draped over Jae, her heavy breasts and long legs promising everything Loras burned to give. And Jae, his prince, letting it happen, the same thick cock Loras had deepthroated now stirring beneath the table at the thought of two women in his bed.

“My lady,” Loras said, voice tight with barely leashed protest, “my sworn duty is to guard the prince. I cannot leave his side.”

Allyria’s smile never wavered. She stroked Jae’s wrist with one elegant finger, bright purple eyes flicking dismissively back to Loras. “You may guard him perfectly well once Lord Orton is safe in his room, Ser Loras. It is a short walk down the corridor. See to it. That is an order from the prince’s own paramour.”

Jae hesitated for half a heartbeat, violet eyes meeting Loras’s again—something like guilt flickering there, the memory of Loras’s throat stretched obscenely around his girth no doubt flashing behind them—but he did not contradict her. “Do as she says, Ser Loras,” he murmured, the words quiet but final.

Loras bowed stiffly, every muscle screaming. “As you command, Your Highness.” He stepped forward, hauling the snoring, dead-weight Orton from his chair with more force than necessary. The lord’s bulbous nose bobbed as his head lolled, drool slicking his chin. Loras slung one arm around the man’s shoulders and half-dragged him toward the doors, the Merryweather’s feet scuffing uselessly across the flagstones.

Behind him, he heard Taena’s throaty laugh rise again, Allyria’s soft murmur of invitation, and the low rumble of Jae’s voice as the three of them stood to leave the hall together—bound for the prince’s private chamber, wine, cyvasse, and whatever else the night would bring.

Loras hauled the dead weight of Lord Orton Merryweather down the dimly lit corridor, the lord’s bulbous nose bumping against his shoulder with every stumbling step. Orton snored wetly, drool slicking his messy orange-red hair and staining the front of his doublet. Two servants met them at the guest chamber door and helped Loras dump the man unceremoniously onto the wide bed. Orton rolled onto his back with a grunt, one arm flopping over the side, and immediately began snoring louder than a wounded boar.

Loras did not wait for thanks. He turned on his heel, white cloak snapping behind him, and strode back through the shadowed halls of Summerhall with long, urgent strides. His boots rang against the stone, heart hammering. Every second away from the prince felt like treason of its own kind.

He reached the heavy oak door of Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen’s private chambers and took up his post two paces away, back straight, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The corridor was silent now, torches flickering low. From behind the thick wood came the faint, muffled sound of laughter—Allyria’s soft, musical voice and Taena’s throaty purr blending together. The bolt had not been shot; the door remained slightly ajar, as if the occupants inside had forgotten—or simply did not care—that the world existed beyond it.

Loras stared at the dark grain of the wood, jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached. His mind supplied the images in ruthless, vivid detail.

Inside, the chamber would be warm with candlelight and the dying fire. Jae would be lounging on the edge of the great canopied bed, dark hair tousled from wine and wandering hands, violet eyes heavy-lidded with drink and desire. Allyria—elegant and beautiful, long dark hair loose down her smooth olive back—would be kneeling between his spread thighs, her bright purple eyes looking up at him with open love as she slowly unlaced his breeches. Taena would be pressed against Jae’s side, her lush, busty body molded to him, full breasts spilling from her Myrish gown as she fed him another sip of wine from her own mouth. Her long olive legs would be draped over one of his, thick black hair tickling his chest while she kissed along the strong line of his jaw.

Loras could almost see it: Allyria freeing Jae’s thick, heavy cock—the same massive length that had stretched Loras’s throat raw only hours earlier—and wrapping her elegant fingers around the base. Taena would laugh that low, wicked laugh and lean down to join her, the two women’s tongues sliding together over the flushed head, licking and sucking in turns while Jae groaned, one hand fisted in Allyria’s dark hair and the other tangled in Taena’s thick black waves. The Myrish beauty’s full, dark lips would stretch wide around that girth, taking him deep while Allyria licked and kissed the heavy balls beneath, both of them worshipping the prince’s cock with wet, obscene sounds.

Jae would be hard as iron, hips twitching up into their mouths, guilt and pleasure warring on his handsome face the way it had when he spilled down Loras’s throat. Maybe he would pull Taena up to straddle him, sinking into her tight, dripping cunt while Allyria straddled his face, grinding her slick folds against his tongue. Or perhaps he would bend Allyria over the cyvasse table and fuck her from behind while Taena knelt beneath them, licking where they joined, her throaty moans vibrating against Jae’s swinging balls.

Loras’s cock throbbed painfully against the front of his breeches, fully hard and leaking, the memory of Jae’s thick shaft pulsing on his tongue making his mouth water even now. He shifted his stance, trying to ease the aching pressure, but it only made it worse. His balls felt heavy, drawn tight with frustration. He had been the one on his knees earlier, swallowing every last drop while Jae gasped about treason and Allyria. And now those two women—his Dornish paramour and the seductive Myrish whore—were in there taking what should have been Loras’s alone.

He was painfully, shamefully hard, cock straining visibly beneath the white cloak, heart burning with jealous fire. His sworn shield, reduced to standing outside the door like a common sentry while the prince he loved let two beautiful women fawn and suck and fuck him senseless.

The heavy oak door to Prince Jaehaerys’s chambers remained ajar, every soft moan and throaty laugh from within driving the knife of jealousy deeper into his gut. He could hear them—Allyria’s elegant murmurs, Taena’s sultry purrs, the low rumble of Jae’s voice as wine and desire took hold. His mind, already fevered, slipped fully into the fantasy he could no longer hold back.

In his imagination, the door swung open at his touch. He stepped inside without knocking, the room bathed in golden candlelight and the scent of sex and Arbor gold. Jae lounged on the edge of the great bed, breeches open, his thick, heavy cock standing proud and glistening—already wet from the attentions of the two women kneeling before him. Allyria’s long dark hair spilled over one shoulder, her bright purple eyes wide with surprise; Taena’s lush, busty body was pressed close, full lips parted around the head of Jae’s shaft, her olive-skinned breasts heaving.

Loras did not hesitate. He unclasped his white cloak and let it fall. Piece by piece, he shed the gleaming white armor—pauldrons, breastplate, greaves—until he stood bare-chested and hard, cock leaking against his stomach. He crossed the room and dropped to his knees between the women, shouldering them aside with deliberate force.

“Watch,” he growled, voice low and possessive. “I’ll show you how a man truly pleasures his prince.”

Allyria and Taena stared, frozen, as Loras wrapped both hands around the base of Jae’s massive cock—the same thick length that had stretched his throat raw hours earlier—and took it to the root in one smooth, greedy glide. His lips sealed tight, throat relaxing instantly as he swallowed every inch, nose pressing into the dark curls at Jae’s base. He hummed deep in his chest, the vibration rippling along the shaft, and began to bob with filthy devotion—long, wet pulls that milked the prince’s cock with perfect suction, tongue swirling and pressing against the underside, saliva already dripping down his chin and over Jae’s heavy balls.

“Fuck—Loras,” Jae groaned, violet eyes fluttering, one hand fisting in Loras’s golden curls. The prince’s hips bucked despite himself, guilt flashing across his handsome face even in the fantasy, but he did not pull away.

Loras pulled off just long enough to gasp, “Better than either of them, Jae,” before diving back down, throat convulsing rhythmically around the girth, taking him impossibly deep again and again. He sucked harder, faster, cheeks hollowed, gagging softly but never stopping—showing the women exactly how a Kingsguard worshipped. Allyria’s elegant fingers hovered uselessly; Taena’s full lips parted in stunned silence as Loras outdid them both, swallowing the prince’s cock with shameless expertise until Jae was panting, thighs trembling.

But the fantasy shifted, heat spiraling higher. Jae suddenly pulled Loras up by the hair, spun him around, and bent him roughly over the cyvasse table. The wooden board clattered to the floor, pieces scattering. Loras braced his hands on the edge, ass presented, and Jae kicked his legs wider.

“Stay there and watch,” Jae ordered the two women, voice rough with wine and need. Allyria and Taena were forced to kneel beside the table, eyes wide, unable to look away as Jae freed the last of his laces and lined up the thick, spit-slick head of his cock against Loras’s tight hole.

Then he drove in—bare, burning, relentless—burying every inch in one brutal thrust. Loras cried out in the fantasy, the stretch perfect and overwhelming, Jae’s heavy balls slapping against him as the prince fucked him hard and deep. Each snap of Jae’s hips drove that massive cock against his prostate, making Loras’s own untouched cock leak onto the table. Jae’s hand fisted in his golden curls, yanking his head back so the women had a clear view of Loras’s flushed, pleasure-drunk face.

“Mine,” Jae growled against his ear, pounding into him without mercy while Allyria and Taena were forced to watch every slick slide, every wet slap of skin, every broken moan torn from Loras’s throat. “Not theirs. Never theirs.”

Loras’s fantasy-self came untouched, spilling across the table with a strangled shout of “Jae—”, clenching hard around the prince’s cock until Jae followed with a guttural groan, flooding him deep and hot.

Outside the real door, Ser Loras Tyrell remained motionless, breathing ragged, cock throbbing painfully in his breeches with no release in sight. The muffled laughter from within the chamber continued, twisting the knife. He shifted his stance again, jaw locked, the vivid images burning behind his eyes.

Loras remained at his post outside the heavy oak door, white cloak draped over his armored frame, the corridor torches burning lower with every passing minute. An hour crawled by in agonizing slowness. The wine-softened laughter from within had long since dissolved into something far more intimate—muffled moans, the wet slap of skin, Allyria’s breathy sighs and Taena’s throaty gasps threading together like a filthy tapestry. His cock had never softened; it throbbed relentlessly against his breeches, aching from the vivid fantasies that refused to leave his mind.

Then, barely audible through the crack in the door, he heard it: his name whispered in a low, feminine voice. “Loras…”

Too soft, too sultry to be the prince’s.

The door eased open a handspan. Lady Taena Merryweather leaned out, completely naked, olive skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat and exertion. Her thick black hair was tousled and damp, falling over one shoulder; her large, dark eyes glittered with wicked amusement. Full breasts hung heavy and flushed, dark nipples stiff. Between them and across the generous curves of her tits, thick white streaks of Jae’s seed glistened obscenely in the torchlight—recent, still warm-looking, some of it slowly dripping down toward her navel.

“Ser Loras,” she purred, voice husky from recent use, Myrish accent thicker than ever. “Be a good knight and fetch the oil from the chest in my room, would you? The one by the window. My husband will still be sleeping like the drunk fool he is. It won’t take you long.”

Loras’s jaw tightened, eyes flicking from her cum-streaked breasts to the dark slit of the doorway. His cock jerked hard at the sight of her, but duty clamped down like iron. “My lady, my sworn duty is to guard the prince. I cannot leave this post.”

Taena’s full lips curved into a knowing smile. She did not bother covering herself. “It is the prince’s own order, sweet knight. He is simply… too occupied with Allyria at the moment to step out and give it himself.” When Loras’s expression remained skeptical, one golden brow arched in disbelief, Taena’s smile widened. She pushed the door open wider, stepping half into the corridor so he had an unobstructed view inside.

The sight hit Loras like a lance to the gut.

The chamber was bathed in low firelight and scattered candles. Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen was in all his glory—naked, sweat-slicked, dark hair plastered to his forehead and the strong column of his neck. His broad chest heaved with every powerful thrust, droplets of sweat tracing down the ridges of muscle and the faint trail of hair leading to his groin. He had Allyria on her hands and knees on the great bed, her long dark hair spilling across the sheets, bright purple eyes half-lidded in ecstasy, smooth olive ass raised high. Jae’s long, thick cock—still glistening from Taena and from Allyria both—pistoned in and out of her with deep, relentless strokes, heavy balls slapping wetly against her with every drive. The wet, obscene sounds of him fucking his paramour filled the room. Allyria moaned loudly, pushing back onto that massive length, while Jae’s hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks.

Jae was too focused, violet eyes locked on the place where his cock disappeared into Allyria’s cunt, jaw clenched in raw pleasure. He did not even glance toward the door.

Taena stood there naked and shameless, Jae’s spend still painted across her big breasts and dark nipples like a claim, and smiled at Loras with open, knowing triumph. “Go get the oil, Ser Loras,” she murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction. “That is an order from your prince… even if he cannot say it right now.”

Loras swallowed hard, throat dry, cock throbbing painfully at the devastating sight of his prince in full rut—sweat-glistened, powerful, claiming what was his. Jealousy and desperate arousal warred inside him, but the command had been given. He bowed stiffly, white cloak swirling as he turned on his heel.

“As you command, my lady,” he said, voice tight, and strode down the corridor to fetch the oil, leaving the moans and the slick rhythm of Jae’s cock behind him.

Loras moved swiftly through the shadowed corridors of Summerhall, the small crystal vial of scented oil clutched tightly in his gloved hand. He had taken the liberty—after fetching it from the chest beside the window in Lady Taena’s opulent guest chamber—of stepping to Lord Orton’s bedside. The drunken lord still snored like a dying ox, but Loras had rolled the man onto his side with a rough shove, propping a pillow behind his back so he would not choke on his own vomit in the night. A small mercy, though the bulbous-nosed fool deserved none of it.

His cock had not softened the entire time. It strained against his breeches, a constant, throbbing reminder of what he had witnessed before leaving.

Now he stood once more before the heavy oak door to Prince Jaehaerys’s chambers. The sounds from within had grown louder, more urgent—Allyria’s breathy cries, Taena’s throaty moans, the unmistakable wet rhythm of flesh meeting flesh. Loras knocked softly, twice, the sound barely audible even to his own ears.

No answer.

He waited another heartbeat, jaw clenched, then sighed heavily through his nose. Duty and desire warred inside him, but the prince had commanded—through Taena’s lips, at least—and Loras was nothing if not obedient to his sworn shield’s true master.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The chamber was a haze of candlelight and sex. The air hung thick with the mingled scents of wine, sweat, and arousal. On the great canopied bed, Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen was lost in raw, animal rut. He was on his knees behind Allyria Dayne, her long dark hair fisted in one of his hands as he fucked her hard from behind. Her smooth olive ass jiggled with every powerful thrust, bright purple eyes half-lidded in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent moan. Jae’s thick, long cock—glistening with her slick and the remnants of earlier release—pistoned in and out of her cunt with deep, punishing strokes, heavy balls slapping loudly against her with every drive. Sweat poured down the prince’s sculpted chest and down the hard ridges of his abdomen, dripping onto Allyria’s back.

Lady Taena knelt beside them on the bed, completely naked, her lush, busty body flushed and shining. She had one hand between her own thighs, fingers buried deep in her cunt as she watched, the other lazily smearing the drying streaks of Jae’s earlier spend across her heavy breasts and dark, stiff nipples. Her thick black hair was wild, lips parted in a wicked, satisfied smile.

Jae’s violet eyes were locked on the place where his massive cock disappeared into Allyria’s dripping folds, jaw tight with concentration, dark hair plastered to his forehead. He looked every inch the dragon-blooded prince—powerful, beautiful, utterly consumed by pleasure—fucking his paramour like he meant to ruin her for anyone else.

Loras stood frozen just inside the door, the vial of oil heavy in his palm, white cloak suddenly too warm against his skin. His own cock ached so fiercely it hurt, leaking steadily into his breeches at the sight of Jae in all his glory: sweat-slicked muscles flexing, that long, thick shaft stretching Allyria open again and again, the wet, filthy sounds of it echoing in the chamber.

Jealousy clawed at him, sharp and vicious. Those women—Allyria with her elegant beauty and Taena with her sultry curves—got to have this. Got to take the prince’s cock, his seed, his moans. While Loras stood guard, hard and untouched, throat still remembering the stretch from earlier.

He cleared his throat softly, voice rough. “The oil, my lady… as commanded.”

Taena turned her head first, dark eyes gleaming with amusement as she took in the sight of the armored Kingsguard standing there, visibly hard beneath his white cloak. Allyria moaned louder, pushing back onto Jae’s cock, but the prince himself remained too focused, hips snapping forward with a low growl, oblivious for the moment to the new arrival.

Loras swallowed hard, eyes never leaving the hypnotic sight of Jae’s glistening cock driving deep into Allyria’s cunt.

Loras stood just inside the door, vial of oil still warm in his palm, when Allyria’s bright purple eyes finally flicked toward him. Her long dark hair clung to her sweat-slicked back, lips parted on a moan that faltered for half a heartbeat as she registered the armored Kingsguard watching them. A slow, knowing smile curved her mouth.

Jae’s head lifted next. Violet eyes—dark with lust and wine—locked onto Loras across the candlelit chamber. His thrusts into Allyria’s cunt slowed but did not stop, deep and deliberate now, the wet slide of his thick cock still audible with every lazy roll of his hips. Sweat glistened on his chest and down the hard lines of his abdomen; his dark hair stuck to his forehead. He did not pull out. Did not look away.

Taena skipped across the room with a throaty little laugh, completely naked, her big, heavy breasts bouncing heavily with every step. The drying streaks of Jae’s earlier spend still painted her olive skin and dark nipples like obscene war-paint. She plucked the vial from Loras’s hand, fingers brushing his deliberately.

Before he could bow and retreat, a devious spark lit her large, dark eyes. She captured his wrist in a surprisingly strong grip and turned back toward the bed, tugging him a single step farther into the room.

“Tell me, my prince,” she purred, Myrish accent thick and velvet-rough, “these vows of chastity your Kingsguard swear… do they forbid a sworn shield from even watching his prince fuck? Or is it only the touching and the tasting that is forbidden?”

Jae’s thrusts continued—slow, wet, relentless—his cock disappearing inch by inch into Allyria’s dripping cunt as he considered the question. Allyria moaned softly and pushed back against him, clearly enjoying the new audience.

Taena glanced between them. “Have either of you ever had an audience while you fucked?”

Both Jae and Allyria shook their heads. “No,” Jae answered, voice low and rough. “Never.”

Allyria’s bright purple eyes sparkled with sudden interest as she rocked back onto Jae’s cock again, slower this time, savoring the stretch. “Never,” she echoed, breathless.

Taena’s smile widened, wicked. “My poor husband wanted to watch tonight, you know. Wanted to see the prince fuck me right beside Lady Allyria, wanted to sit and stroke his sad little cock while he watched. But his nerves got the better of him and he drank himself into a stupor. Pity.”

Jae’s brow furrowed, thrusts slowing even further. A flicker of conflict crossed his handsome face—the same guilt Loras had seen earlier when the prince had spilled down his throat. “This would not be fair to Ser Loras,” he said, voice strained. “He is my sworn shield. He has vows. We should not put him in this position.”

Taena’s dark eyes dropped pointedly to the very obvious, very hard bulge straining the front of Loras’s breeches. “Fair?” She laughed, low and throaty. “Look at him, my prince. He is not suffering.”

Loras cursed himself silently. He had not worn the full set of white armor tonight—the codpiece that would have hidden everything. Now his cock was blatantly outlined, thick and aching, the fabric visibly tented. Heat flooded his face.

Allyria, still on her hands and knees with Jae’s thick length buried inside her, seemed anything but scandalized. She began to bounce back onto the prince’s cock with renewed enthusiasm, smooth olive ass rippling, long dark hair swaying. “Let him stay if he wishes,” she murmured, voice husky. “I do not mind an audience… especially one so devoted.”

Jae’s violet eyes stayed locked on Loras, conflicted, chest still heaving. His hips gave one slow, deep thrust that made Allyria whimper. “It is your decision, Ser Loras,” he said at last, voice rough with lust and restraint. “Stay and watch… or go. The choice is yours.”

Taena’s dark eyes found Loras’s again. She was beautiful—devastatingly so—with her flushed olive skin, thick black hair tousled from sex, full lips still swollen, and those large, dark eyes that seemed to pull him in like gravity. Even though he had never wanted a woman in his life, something about her sultry confidence, the way she stood naked and unashamed with another man’s seed drying on her breasts, locked him in place. His pulse hammered in his throat.

He did not move to leave.

Taena’s dark eyes stayed locked on Loras, that sultry, knowing smile never wavering. “Take a seat in the corner, Ser Loras,” she purred, voice thick with Myrish smoke and triumph. “The chair by the window. You will have the perfect view from there. Stay and watch your prince… as is your duty.”

Loras’s throat worked, pulse hammering. He obeyed without a word, boots heavy on the flagstones as he crossed to the high-backed chair in the shadowed corner. He sank into it, white cloak pooling around him, legs spread slightly to ease the aching press of his cock against his breeches. The bulge was still shamelessly obvious. He did not look away.

Taena turned back to the bed with a satisfied hum, the crystal vial of oil cradled in her palm like a promise. She climbed onto the mattress with feline grace, her heavy breasts swaying, the drying streaks of Jae’s spend still gleaming across her dark nipples. She pressed boldly against the prince’s side, one arm sliding around his sweat-slicked waist, and captured his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. Jae groaned into it, his slow thrusts into Allyria never fully stopping, hips rolling in a lazy, wet rhythm that made obscene sounds echo through the chamber.

When Taena pulled back, lips shiny, she uncorked the vial and tipped it. A thin, golden stream of oil poured directly onto Allyria’s upturned ass, pooling in the cleft between her smooth olive cheeks. Allyria gasped, then moaned long and low as the warm liquid slid over her skin. Taena set the vial aside and used both hands—palms slick, fingers spreading wide—to rub the oil in. She massaged it thoroughly over the firm globes of Allyria’s ass, thumbs pressing into the muscle, then deliberately dragged her fingers down the slick valley between her cheeks. The oil made everything glisten and shine under the candlelight, Allyria’s skin turning wet and luminous, the tight pucker of her hole winking as Taena’s fingertips circled it teasingly.

Allyria arched her back further with a broken whimper, pushing her glistening ass higher into the air, long dark hair spilling over one shoulder. “Gods… yes,” she breathed, bright purple eyes fluttering half-shut in pleasure as Taena kept spreading the oil, making her cheeks slide slickly against each other with every slow thrust of Jae’s thick cock still buried deep in her cunt.

Jae’s violet gaze flicked once more to Loras in the corner—conflict and heat warring in his eyes—but his hips kept moving, driving that long, glistening shaft in and out of his paramour with deliberate strokes, the wet sounds now even filthier thanks to the fresh oil coating everything.

Taena laughed softly against Jae’s shoulder, one hand still spreading oil between Allyria’s cheeks while the other trailed down to cup one of the prince’s heavy, swinging balls. “Look at her, my prince,” she whispered hotly. “All shiny and ready for whatever you desire next.”

Loras sat motionless in the shadows, breathing ragged, cock throbbing painfully as he watched the three of them—his prince lost in pleasure, the two beautiful women worshipping him, and the oil making every slide and glide obscenely visible. Jealousy burned white-hot in his chest, but he did not leave. He could not.

Taena’s throaty laugh curled against Jae’s ear as she gave his heavy balls one last teasing squeeze. “Pull out of her, my prince,” she murmured, voice dripping with wicked command. “Just for a moment. Let her feel how empty she is without you.”

Jae hesitated half a heartbeat, violet eyes dark with lust and the faintest shadow of guilt, but he obeyed. He drew his thick, glistening cock from Allyria’s dripping cunt with a wet, obscene pop. Allyria groaned in sharp disappointment, her smooth olive back arching deeper, long dark hair spilling across the sheets as she pushed her hips back desperately.

“No—come back,” she whimpered, bright purple eyes glassy with need. “Jae, please—”

Taena was already moving, sliding off the bed and dropping gracefully to her knees behind Allyria’s upturned arse. She patted the mattress beside her. “Join me, my prince. On your knees. Right here.”

Jae followed, his sweat-slicked chest heaving, that long, heavy cock—still rock-hard and shining with Allyria’s slick—bobbing between his thighs as he knelt beside Taena. Both of them now knelt shoulder to shoulder behind the Dornish beauty’s glistening, oil-slicked ass, Allyria’s knees spread wide on the bed, her cunt visibly clenching around nothing.

Jae leaned in first, violet eyes locked on the puffy, dripping folds of Allyria’s cunt. He pressed his mouth to her from behind in a slow, open-mouthed kiss, tongue dragging through her wetness, lapping at her clit and the entrance he had just vacated. Allyria moaned loudly, pushing back against his face, her oiled cheeks sliding slickly together.

Taena’s hands were everywhere on Allyria’s bottom—kneading the firm, glistening globes, spreading them wide so Jae could feast more deeply. Her thick black hair fell forward as she watched the prince devour his paramour’s cunt, dark eyes gleaming with delight.

“More oil, my prince,” Taena instructed, voice low and sultry, Myrish accent thick with arousal. She picked up the vial again and pressed it into Jae’s hand without pulling his mouth away from Allyria’s cunt. “Pour it right here—generously. Don’t be shy. She needs to be dripping for what comes next.”

Jae lifted his head just enough to pour a thick stream of golden oil directly onto Allyria’s tight, winking arsehole. The liquid pooled and ran down over her already-shining cheeks, mixing with her own slick. Taena’s fingers immediately joined in, spreading the fresh oil thoroughly, circling the tight ring with slick fingertips while Jae went back to kissing and licking Allyria’s cunt with renewed hunger.

“Like that,” Taena purred approvingly, one finger pressing just inside Allyria’s arsehole, stretching the rim ever so slightly. “A little more—yes, flood her. Make her arse as wet and shiny as her pretty cunt. She loves it when you open her up slow and deep.”

Allyria’s moan turned into a broken sob of pleasure as Jae poured another generous measure of oil straight onto her hole, the excess running in rivulets down her thighs. Taena’s fingers worked it in deeper now, two of them pressing inside, scissoring gently while the prince’s tongue flicked rapidly over her clit.

From his chair in the corner, Loras watched every filthy second—his cock throbbing painfully against his breeches, breath ragged, jealousy and desperate arousal twisting like a knife in his gut. The sight of his prince on his knees, mouth buried in Allyria’s cunt while Taena stretched her glistening arse with slick fingers, was almost too much to bear.

Taena glanced over her shoulder at him once, dark eyes sparkling with wicked amusement, before turning back to guide the prince’s hand.

“Keep pouring, my prince,” she whispered hotly. “We’re only just getting started.”

Taena’s fingers slid out of Allyria’s tight, oil-slicked arsehole with a wet pop, leaving the ring glistening and slightly open. She pressed the vial back into Jae’s hand, her own slick digits trailing up over Allyria’s shining cheeks.

“Two fingers now, my prince,” Taena instructed, voice low and throaty, Myrish accent thick with lust. “Slow at first. Pour more oil straight onto her hole—yes, like that. Flood it until it drips. Then push in together, scissor them gently. She can take it. Stretch her open for you… feel how she clenches? That’s it. Twist a little. Good. Deeper. She loves being opened like a proper whore for her prince.”

Jae obeyed, violet eyes dark and intent. He poured a fresh, generous stream of oil directly onto Allyria’s winking arsehole, watching it run down in shiny rivulets. Then his thick fingers—two at once—replaced Taena’s, pressing inside the tight heat with a slow, careful thrust. Allyria moaned brokenly, pushing back onto his hand.

The moment Jae’s fingers were buried knuckle-deep, Taena leaned in and pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to each of Allyria’s glistening, oiled cheeks. Her full lips dragged wetly over the slick skin, tongue flicking out to taste the oil and the heat of her flesh while Jae began working his fingers in and out, stretching her arsehole wider with every scissoring motion.

Taena smiled against Allyria’s skin, then crawled gracefully beneath her on the bed. She settled on her back between Allyria’s spread thighs, thick black hair fanning across the sheets, heavy breasts heaving. Without hesitation she tilted her head up and sealed her mouth over Allyria’s dripping cunt, tongue diving deep into the soaked folds, sucking greedily on her clit.

Allyria shrieked in pleasure, the sound raw and high and utterly shameless. “Gods—Jae—Taena—fuck!” Her back arched violently, long dark hair whipping as she rocked between the two mouths and hands devouring her. Jae’s fingers pumped steadily in and out of her arsehole, stretching her wider, while Taena feasted noisily on her cunt—wet, obscene slurping sounds filling the chamber as the Myrish woman licked and sucked and moaned into her folds.

From the corner, Loras could not tear his eyes away. The sight of his prince on his knees, sweat-slicked chest gleaming, thick fingers buried deep in Allyria’s shining arse while Taena ate her cunt like a woman starving was too much. His own cock throbbed painfully against his breeches, leaking steadily. With a shaky breath he palmed himself through the fabric, pressing the heel of his hand hard along the rigid length, rubbing slow and desperate as he watched every filthy detail unfold.

Allyria’s shrieks melted into continuous, sobbing moans, her body trembling between Jae’s stretching fingers and Taena’s relentless tongue, the oil making everything slick and glistening under the candlelight. Jae’s violet gaze flicked once toward Loras in the shadows—conflict and raw heat warring there—but his fingers never slowed, fucking deeper into his paramour’s arse while Taena’s throaty hums of approval vibrated straight into Allyria’s cunt.

Taena pulled her mouth from Allyria’s dripping cunt with a wet, obscene sound, leaving the Dornish woman whimpering at the sudden loss. She crawled out from beneath her, thick black hair wild and lips shiny with slick, and rose to her knees beside Jae. Without a word she wrapped both hands around the prince’s thick, oil-slicked cock—still hard and glistening from Allyria’s cunt—and swallowed him to the root in one smooth, practiced glide.

Loras’s breath caught hard in his throat. Taena throated Jae with filthy skill, her full dark lips stretching wide around the massive girth, nose pressing flush to the dark curls at his base. She held him there, throat convulsing rhythmically, then pulled back only to dive down again—faster, deeper, wetter—gagging softly but never stopping. The wet, choking sounds of her throat working his cock filled the chamber. Loras palmed himself harder through his breeches, shame and jealousy twisting in his gut; her technique was devastating, perhaps even better than his own desperate efforts earlier that day. Jae groaned low and broken, hips twitching forward despite himself.

Taena pulled off with a gasp, strings of spit connecting her swollen lips to the flushed head of Jae’s cock. She stole the vial from the prince’s slack fingers with a wicked grin, uncorked it, and poured a thick stream of golden oil straight over his length. It ran down the veined shaft in shining rivulets. She slicked him thoroughly with both hands, stroking from root to tip until his cock glistened obscenely, every inch coated and dripping.

Jae rose then, chest heaving, sweat running down the hard planes of his body. He positioned himself behind Allyria’s upturned arse, the thick, oil-slick head of his cock pressing firmly against her prepared, winking hole. Allyria released a broken, shaky moan—high and trembling—as he began to push inside. Loras was certain, watching the way her body tensed and then slowly yielded, that this was her first time being taken this way.

“Fuck—Allyria—” Jae cursed in raw lust, violet eyes fixed on the sight of his massive cock slowly disappearing into her tight arse. Inch by glistening inch it sank in, the oil making the stretch obscene and effortless. Allyria’s moan turned into a long, keening cry, fingers twisting in the sheets.

Taena laid her hands on Allyria’s oiled bottom, spreading her cheeks wide to help guide the younger pair. “Easy, my prince,” she murmured, voice husky. “Slow and deep… let her feel every inch.”

Jae began to fuck her gently—long, careful strokes that sank him to the hilt before drawing back almost to the head, the wet, filthy glide of oiled cock in tight arse echoing through the room. Both of them were vocal, unashamed.

“Gods, Jae—your cock… so big—filling my arse—” Allyria sobbed, pushing back to take him deeper, her long dark hair sticking to her sweat-damp skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jae groaned, voice wrecked with pleasure, hips rolling steadily. “So hot… so perfect around me… taking me like this…”

Taena watched with dark, satisfied eyes, still spreading Allyria’s cheeks so Loras could see every slick thrust in perfect, humiliating detail.

In the corner, Loras rubbed his aching cock through his breeches, breath ragged, eyes locked on the sight of his prince claiming Allyria’s virgin arse while the Myrish beauty held her open for him. Jealousy burned hotter than the candles, but he could not look away.

Taena’s dark, sultry eyes flicked over her shoulder toward the shadowed corner, catching the desperate way Ser Loras Tyrell was palming the thick, straining bulge in his breeches. A wicked, triumphant smile curved her full lips.

“Ser Loras,” she purred, voice loud and commanding, thick Myrish accent wrapping around his name like warm honey and smoke. “Enough of this foolish modesty. Strip. Remove that pretty white cloak, every piece of armor, every stitch of clothing. I want you naked for us.” She spread Allyria’s glistening, oiled cheeks wider as Jae continued his slow, deep thrusts into the Dornish woman’s tight arse, the wet glide of his thick cock still audible with every roll of his hips. “Take that aching cock in your hand and stroke it properly while you watch your prince fuck his beautiful lover. Look at him—buried to the hilt in her perfect little hole. Don’t you dare look away.”

Jae’s rhythm hitched for half a heartbeat, violet eyes darting toward Loras with a flash of fresh guilt and heat, but he did not stop. His sweat-slicked hips kept moving, sliding that long, glistening shaft in and out of Allyria’s arse with deliberate, claiming strokes. Allyria moaned brokenly, pushing back onto him, lost in the stretch.

Loras sat frozen for a long, agonizing moment, heart hammering against his ribs. His Kingsguard vows screamed in his head—chastity, duty, honor—but his cock throbbed harder than it ever had, leaking steadily into his breeches at the obscene sight of his prince claiming Allyria so completely. Shame burned hot in his face… yet his hands moved anyway.

With shaking fingers he unclasped the white cloak and let it pool at his feet. The rest followed quickly—tunic, breeches, smallclothes—until he stood completely bare, golden skin flushed, cock springing free: hard, flushed dark, and curving up against his stomach, the head already slick with pre-cum. He wrapped a trembling hand around his length and began to stroke, slow and firm, eyes locked helplessly on the bed where Jae’s thick cock disappeared again and again into Allyria’s shining, stretched arsehole.

Taena laughed low and throaty, satisfied. “That’s it, Kingsguard. Stroke that pretty cock while you watch. We all know how badly you wish it was you he was fucking.”

Loras’s breath came ragged as he pumped his fist faster, unable to stop, unable to look away from the sight of his prince—sweat-drenched, powerful, and utterly lost in the tight heat of the woman he loved—while jealousy and desperate arousal warred inside him.

Allyria’s moans climbed higher and sharper with every deep thrust of Jae’s thick cock into her oiled arse, her body trembling as Taena kept her cheeks spread wide for the prince. Suddenly the Dornish woman seized up, back arching violently. “Jae—! I’m—oh gods, I’m cumming—!” she shrieked, voice shattering into a long, broken wail of ecstasy. Her cunt clenched and pulsed visibly, flooding fresh slick down her thighs, while her arsehole fluttered and squeezed rhythmically around the prince’s girth like a vice.

Jae groaned deep in his chest, violet eyes squeezing shut, hips stuttering as her orgasm milked him hard. “Fuck… Allyria… I’m so close—”

“Not yet, my prince,” Taena commanded, her throaty voice sharp with wicked authority. She reached back and pressed a firm hand to his hip. “Hold it. Do not spend yet.”

With a frustrated grunt, Jae obeyed, slowly pulling his glistening, throbbing cock free of Allyria’s twitching arse with a wet pop. Allyria whimpered in disappointment, collapsing forward onto her stomach, chest heaving.

Taena smiled, dark eyes gleaming with hunger. She coaxed the prince onto his back in the center of the wide bed, hands gentle but insistent on his sweat-slicked shoulders. “On your back for me, handsome. Let me take what I want now.”

Once Jae was lying down, chest still rising and falling heavily, Taena snatched up the vial again and poured a fresh, generous stream of oil over his cock. She slicked him thoroughly with both hands, stroking the thick, veined length from root to tip until every inch shone and dripped.

She turned around, presenting her lush, round arse to him, and straddled the prince in reverse. Reaching back between her thighs, she grasped his massive, oiled cock and pressed the swollen head firmly against her own arsehole. With a deep, guttural grunt, Taena sank down onto him, impaling herself slowly. “Mmmph—fuck… so big,” she groaned as his thick length stretched her open, inch after glistening inch disappearing inside her until her big, olive-skinned arse was flush against his hips, every last bit of him buried deep in her tight heat.

Her empty cunt glistened obscenely in the candlelight—puffy, dripping wet, and visibly throbbing with need, lips spread and shining.

Taena leaned forward, bracing her hands on Jae’s strong thighs, and began to ride him ruthlessly. She slammed her big, heavy arse up and down on his cock with powerful, greedy strokes, the loud, wet slapping of flesh on flesh filling the chamber—clap-clap-clap-clap—as her round cheeks bounced and jiggled violently with every brutal drop. Her throaty moans mixed with the obscene sounds, breasts swinging beneath her as she fucked herself on the prince without mercy.

In the corner, Loras stroked his own aching cock faster, eyes glued to the sight, jealousy and raw lust burning through him while Taena claimed every inch of his prince with her greedy arse.

Allyria lay panting on her stomach for a long moment, her oiled arse still glistening and slightly gaping from the stretch of Jae’s thick cock, her smooth olive skin flushed and trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. But the sight of Taena ruthlessly riding her lover—big, round arse slamming down again and again with loud, wet slaps—was too intoxicating to resist.

With a slow, predatory smile, the beautiful Dornish woman pushed herself up onto all fours and crawled across the wide bed toward the entangled pair. Her long dark hair trailed over one shoulder, bright purple eyes locked on Taena’s bouncing form as the Myrish woman continued to fuck herself senseless on the prince’s massive length.

Allyria reached them just as Taena drove her heavy arse down hard onto Jae’s cock once more, the obscene clap of flesh on flesh ringing through the chamber. Rising onto her knees beside the rutting pair, Allyria cupped Taena’s flushed face with both hands and pulled her into a deep, filthy kiss.

Their mouths crashed together with open hunger—lips parting wide, tongues sliding hot and slick against each other in messy, eager strokes. Taena moaned loudly into Allyria’s mouth without missing a single brutal bounce, her big, olive-skinned arse continuing to rise and fall ruthlessly on Jae’s thick, oil-slicked cock. The wet slapping sounds grew louder and filthier as she rode him even harder, heavy breasts jiggling wildly, her empty cunt dripping visibly onto the prince’s pelvis.

Jae groaned beneath them, violet eyes wide and dark with lust as he watched the two beautiful women devour each other’s mouths right above him, their tongues tangling shamelessly while Taena’s arse swallowed every inch of his throbbing length over and over.

Allyria’s fingers tangled in Taena’s thick black hair, deepening the kiss, sharing hot, wet breaths and broken moans as the Myrish woman kept slamming herself down onto the prince’s cock without mercy.

In the corner, Loras stroked his aching cock faster, fist flying along his leaking shaft, eyes burning with raw jealousy at the lewd, intimate sight of the two women lost in each other while Jae’s thick cock disappeared again and again into Taena’s greedy arse.

Taena broke the deep, messy kiss with Allyria, their lips still connected by a thin string of saliva. She never slowed her ruthless rhythm, slamming her big, round arse down onto Jae’s thick, oil-slicked cock with brutal force, the loud wet clap-clap-clap of flesh on flesh echoing obscenely through the candlelit chamber. Her heavy breasts bounced wildly with every drop, dark nipples stiff and gleaming.

“Allyria…” Taena gasped, voice husky and wrecked with her Myrish accent, large dark eyes half-lidded in pleasure as she ground down hard. “Can you help me make your prince spill his seed deep in my bottom? I want to feel him flood my arse—every last drop.”

She leaned forward slightly, her empty cunt glistening and dripping visibly above Jae’s pelvis, the puffy lips spread and shining. “Thank you… for sharing your lover with me tonight. He feels so fucking good stretching my tight little hole.”

Allyria’s bright purple eyes darkened with fresh lust. A slow, sensual smile curved her full lips. Without a word she reached down between Taena’s spread thighs, elegant fingers finding the Myrish woman’s soaked cunt. She played with it shamelessly—two fingers sliding easily through the dripping folds before plunging deep inside the clenching heat. Allyria curled them expertly, stroking Taena’s inner walls while her thumb circled the swollen clit in tight, fast motions.

Taena let out a loud, throaty moan, her big arse bouncing even harder and faster on Jae’s throbbing cock. “Yes—fuck, just like that—don’t stop!”

Jae groaned beneath them, hands gripping Taena’s wide hips hard enough to bruise, violet eyes locked on the filthy sight of Allyria’s fingers buried knuckle-deep in the other woman’s cunt while her greedy arse swallowed every glistening inch of his length over and over.

Taena’s ruthless rhythm faltered into something frantic and desperate, her big, round arse slamming down onto Jae’s thick, oil-slicked cock with savage force. The wet, obscene clap-clap-clap of flesh grew louder, faster, filthier. Allyria’s elegant fingers pumped relentlessly into the Myrish woman’s dripping cunt, two digits curling hard against her inner walls while her thumb rubbed tight, merciless circles over the swollen clit.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m going to cum—” Taena gasped, her throaty voice cracking. Her body suddenly seized, back arching sharply as her orgasm tore through her like wildfire. Her arse clamped down like a velvet vice around Jae’s buried cock, pulsing and fluttering wildly, milking him with rhythmic squeezes. At the same time her cunt gushed hot and wet around Allyria’s fingers, soaking them to the knuckles and drenching the prince’s pelvis beneath her in a slick flood.

“Jae—! Gods, yes—!” Taena screamed, heavy breasts bouncing wildly as violent tremors ripped through her lush body.

The intense, rhythmic squeezing of Taena’s arse around him finally shattered Jae’s control. His hands clamped down hard on her wide, olive hips, fingers digging deep into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. With a guttural, animalistic roar he thrust up into her one final time, burying himself to the hilt.

“Fuuuuck—!” Jae roared, head thrown back against the pillows, dark hair plastered to his sweat-drenched face, violet eyes squeezed shut in raw ecstasy. His heavy balls drew up tight and clenched visibly beneath Taena’s bouncing arse as he erupted deep inside her bowels. Thick, hot ropes of seed pulsed out of him in powerful, endless spurts, flooding her arse completely and filling her to overflowing.

The sight was devastating.

From the shadowed corner, Loras watched every filthy detail—his prince’s heavy balls tightening and pulsing as he pumped load after thick load of cum deep into the Myrish woman’s greedy arse, the raw roar of pleasure tearing from Jae’s throat, the way Taena’s body shuddered and clenched around him. It was too much. Loras’s own cock jerked hard in his fist, and with a strangled, broken groan he came violently. Thick white streaks of his own seed shot across his bare belly and chest in heavy, messy spurts, splattering his skin as his body jerked helplessly in the chair. He stroked himself through every pulsing wave, eyes never leaving the bed, shame and pleasure twisting together until he was spent and panting.

Taena moaned long and low, still impaled on the prince’s throbbing cock, while Allyria kept her fingers buried deep, gently stroking her through the aftershocks. Jae’s chest heaved beneath them both, spent and glistening with sweat.