Robb. (F)

“May I go next, Your Grace?” Robb asks Daenerys. She nods approvingly. Robb looks to you and smiles devilishly. You can only grasp at the sadistic, perverted thoughts that must be running through his demented head.

He climbs onto the silk-strewn bed, crawling towards you at an agonizingly slow pace. His movements mimicked those of a ravenous wolf stalking its cornered prey. Robb stops inches from your position only to rise on his knees to display his body to you, a show of dominance. You’re left staring at the King in the North in all his naked glory.

Pale blue eyes glitter with amusement as he watches you practically eye-worshipping him, lips curved into a wicked grin. "Yes, my little lioness. That's it. Take it all in," he teases, emphasizing by running his hands along his tantalizing torso. His body was trim: solid and graceful, with some visible muscle, but not swollen and hulking - a runner, more than a weightlifter. Jutting between his legs rested eight inches of cock practically throbbing before your eyes, eager to be buried inside of you. Mother's mercy! He's huge!