Eventful

Jon considered himself much devoted to the Old Gods than the New, but his father had insisted and the prince did not want to trouble the man anymore than he had to. The result was a ceremony that was long and drawn out and incredibly boring for him and doubtless for several others. But he endured the torturous tedium for the sake of his new bride, who looked utterly gorgeous in her wedding dress and he felt a sense of great pride once he draped his cloak over her, pronouncing to the world that this vivacious woman was his and his alone.

The feast was likewise a grand affair, with seven courses in honour of the Seven Gods. Jon only ate a little, but he enjoyed the atmosphere and the good spirit the events had put everyone into and allowed the day’s happiness to wash over him. Eventually the day turned to night, and the wedding called for a bedding. Jon laughed as the various ladies took turns undressing him on his way to his chambers and was well naked by the time they shoved him in. Not long after Margaery was brought into the room, wedding dress still somewhat intact and being escorted by Ser Garlan, who wished them well and left.

Jon felt himself grin openly then, like a wolf who had cornered his prey. “I won’t even try to deny how much I’ve been waiting for this,” He all but growled, “to make you mine.”

“You’ve enjoyed my brother plenty of times,” she replied with a smirk, casually lowering the remnants of her dress, revealing her breasts to the night air, her pink nipples standing erect. She followed his gaze and started to fondle herself. “But Loras doesn’t have these, does he?” She removed the last of her dress, standing before him naked as the day she was born, her shaven cunt glistening. “Or this...”

He was on her at once, like a beast he bit her neck and shoulders, something instinctual within demanding that he claim the woman as his mate. He kissed her roughly and then threw her onto the bed, crawling over her with intent, his cock maddeningly hard.

Looking up at him Margaery widened her legs, inviting him. “Do it,”

With one steady push, Jon's cock sank into her waiting wmanhood, making Margaery squeal in excitement. His cock pushed its way into Margaery's pussy without hesitation, sinking forward and drawing eager moans from both of them as Jon began to rock back and forth, pushing more of his cock with each careful thrust into the waiting pussy.

Margaery laughed in wonder as the breath was literally fucked out of her. “I knew it,” she said, hand around his neck and holding him close, “A strong powerful man like you...should be king...my king,”

Nothing could stop Jon now, and his hips built up a quicker, more feverish pace as Margaery moaned and twisted in delight beneath him. Like Loras, her words were intoxicating to him and brought out the beast. His hands grabbed her legs and used them for leverage as he pulled himself further and further into her hungry womb.

“I’m going to breed you,” he growled, “a whole army of Targaryens born from your **** cunt!”

Margaery threw back her head and moaned. “Do it! Fuck me harder!” She choked out another groan as her body shook with pleasure, “Gods above! Give me your seed!”

With a feral growl of triumph, Jon pushed forward with all his might and unloaded into her until she was left a leaking, incoherent mess. Jon pulled himself free, his chest heaving with exertion and his body coated in a fine layer of sweat. He collapsed down beside her, and instinctively his wife went to his side, whispering praise and giving thanks. All the while Jon lay back, allowing sleep to take him. His dreams full of a kingdom kneeling in supplication like the Tyrells.