Daenerys watches, Littefinger uses his fingers (MF, voyeur)

She kept her eyes closed and tried to ignore the sound of the woman moaning, the sound of their flesh slapping against each other. Ignore the way Petry’s fingers trailed up her thigh, between her legs.

She let out a gentle gasp as his fingers slipped across over her underclothes, over her slit.

“Open your eyes. Watch them.”

She obeyed, watching as the woman fucked the man, his cock now hard, thick and heavy standing tall she impaled herself onto him over and over. The way her body clung to him, as if it was trying to make itself a part of her. That was to be her, the Prince's fuck toy.

Petyr’s finger circled her clit earning another gasp from her. The woman moaned loudly, her body tensing and Daenerys followed suit.

“I can teach you many things,” Petyr whispered in her ear, his own voice somewhat ragged. The pad of his finger put more pressure on the bundle of nerves between her legs, drawing teasing circles around her clit.

“A beautiful young woman has a power few else do,” His fingers lifted slightly then pressed under her garments, skin making contact with skin. “You can make a man yours if you know how to use that power. You can be more than just the wife of a King, the mother of his children.’’

Daenerys closed her eyes, arching her hips to give him better access. Petyr Bealish was a fool, and it was apparent to her now how little he truly knew, but the man did know how to use his fingers.

“I will teach you,” his teeth scraped over her ear, “to use your hands, your mouth, every inch of you, especially your cunt.”

Petyr's fingers pushed harder, sliding under her garments pushing inside her body, Daenerys moaned, biting her lip, lifting her hips. Soft whimpers escaped her lips.

“Very good,” Petyr said with a chuckle. ‘Less is often so much more,” he whispered, his lips nearly touching her neck and ear. “And your moans are music to a man’s ears.”

His fingers curled inside her and he thrust more forcefully.

Daenerys gasped, her hips lurched up. She reached out with both hands clamping over his. Holding him there as her body seized. Shaking violently. She grunted, trembling, “Gods,” she whispered, pulling up tight and awkward on her seat before she fell limp.

Petyr’s hands slipped from her. She breathed heavily and then she turned to look at him, face flush, violet eyes half hooded, silver blond hair a mess.