He grabbed the long silvery locks in his hairy fists and pulled back, bending her lithe body backwards so he could watch her small tits quiver from his powerful thrusts.
Many things lent him this strength - rage, lust, hurt, his own burly physique, and not to mention generous amounts of cheap mead. All of this allowed him to plow into the Daenerys with reckless abandon.
"Jorah, Jorah, Jorah", she whispered, her breath torn ragged by the large cock hammering into her. The sound was music to the knight's ears. Oh, how he had wanted to hear her call out his name with such withering passion. She may not love him, but she wanted him. And he was going to give it to her.
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