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In this position, isn't it what you desire? [He grinned, even as a groaned built in his throat. Her touch was warm and reassuring. It never took long for him to become hard with her. She knew now how he liked to be touched, what would drive him near mad. Her drawing all of this out, her juices already on him, it left him shivering, gripping her hips. He was trying to hold back, restraining himself from lifting her and impaling her on his cock.

He rather enjoyed her power over him, mirroring the sway she had over his head and emotions.]

Shouldn't I submit to my queen?

I can still give from this position. [Just as much as she can take anyway. Still she wants to hear it from him, hips rocking against his shaft. If he does not answer her, she will just continue to tease him against her sex.]

You have not yet bent the knee, so how can I be your queen? [Which is a debate for another time, but if he wishes to call her that, she will only take it if he means it. It is not simply a moniker or something she takes lightly.]

You can and you do. [He isn't helping, but there is no real request he can make. He's inside her, beneath her supple body, all milk and ivory. He could touch, he could kiss and he could caress. She was asking him if he had a request, what he wanted or needed from him. Was there anything beyond this?

It was a turn of phrase for him, quite honestly. He had never sworn to a particular ruler, though had preferences, despite his vows. Dany was the woman he wanted, craved and desired. She was a queen as well, his queen in a possessive sense. Not that he'd admit that to her.

It's a bit difficult to express any of that while she's teasing him. She's offering friction for his cock, but not the full attention he's craving.]

Should I call you a spearwife instead?

[She moves to take him then, slowly sinking onto his cock after having slicked his shaft with her wetness. For a moment her eyes flick back, breath becoming heavy at the feeling of him filling her completely. He just naturally felt like this is where he was meant to be, and it is hard to focus on anything as her hips instinctively rise against him, moving over him.

But it is a conversation that they have circled around before. The title of Queen simply means too much to her for him to use it so simply. It is who she is in her blood and veins, and she can understand his choice, knowing that he remains neutral and outside the politics of Westeros at the Wall, but if he wants her to be his Queen, then he knows what he must do.]

A spearwife? [It is not a term she is familiar enough with. She does not know what they are to one another, except what feels to be fated, intrinsically revolving around one another.]

[He gave a low groan, his head falling back as he took in the feel of her around him. A cove, that's what she felt like, a safe place he had been searching for all of his life. This place had him question his honor, who he was and who he'd become, but with her and inside her, all of those thoughts disappeared. He wanted her, always wanted her.

What use would he be to her? The subject he avoided, that left him roiling with fury and animalistic fury, it impeded what she wanted from him. He was- no, he wasn't going to think about what he was now. He was where he wanted to be. He wouldn't ruin that as he had done so many times before.]

A wildling woman, one that is a warrior, as strong as any man. [His breath was sharp as he thrust up into her.] These woman must be stolen to be taken to wife.

[Fingers land on his chest, just a light touch to steady herself on him as she started to ride him, lifting her hips and rolling down on him. Dany's breathing gets heavier, trying to maintain thoughts on a conversation as she takes him inside of her. Her eyes slowly blink, and she licks at her lips before considering his words.]

You have not stolen me if I give myself freely to you. And I am no wildling. [She arches her brow. Dany smiles lightly. She could tell he's searching for some meaning, and even she knows what they share is not just something impersonal. It is not something just barred by this place, though she does not know what is in their future.]

I could be yours. Here. [She knows he's already made his vows, and anything traditional is not feasible in this prison, but then what they are doing and what they have is not traditional.]

[That lick to her lips has his full attention. Tentatively, he lifts his hand, dragging his thumb over her full lower lip. Soft against the skin, her mouth was almost like silk. Against his lips, he struggled between fire, which she seemed to exude, and comfort. Gestures like this, simply admiring her features and the memories that followed them, it was enough to soothe him.]

You are a different sort of Wildling. [He doesn't know too much about the Dothraki, but they seemed to live similar lives to the Freefolk.] No, I can't steal you, but I caught you off guard.

[He holds his breath, taking a moment to understand what she might be offering and what could be. It was torment, a punishment all its own, to see her with others or know she was with someone else. Yet they seemed to manage. A strange sort of fidelity between them, though existing in a different way.]

Mine? [He wants that. As fiercely and darkly as he coveted Winterfell and Ice, but this was tangible, this was something that could be in some form. It wouldn't be a simple dream shifting into a nightmare. It...could be his.] I want you to be.

[His finger moves over her lips, and she parts them for him, grinning a little more seductively as he continues to explore her mouth. She rocks her hips down slowly, taking him all in, and inhaling slowly. His words rain on her, covering her for that moment, and she smiles down at him. He certainly caught her.

She's still not sure how all of this would work, and maybe when he's not deep inside of her, they can talk more about it, but just laying it all out like this right now just feels good, simple. It might entirely be the case, but it feels like it right now in this moment. Even more so when he confirms it. Daenerys dips down to kiss him slowly, taking him all inside of her again. It's deeper than before, trying to keep him closer.

[It always seemed to be the moment that they would talk about such things, overcome with emotion while he was buried inside her. The timing isn't perfect. Eventually this would be addressed at a better moment, but it's what comes to him now.

It doesn't take long for him to become distracted, tracing her mouth with the tip of his thumb, dragging the skin over her thick lower lip. He wanted to suck at it as he sucked at the lips between her legs. When she finally kisses him, he feels his chest tighten and his hips rock up a bit more eagerly, following the pace she set.

All of this is a sweet sensation, softer but also just as possessive.]

[She likes the feel of his thumb over her mouth and lips. It's suggestive, wanting of more, wanting of other things. It feels dirty, but in a way that she wants to be with him. Daenerys does not take every man that looks at her, nor would she feel like she's lowering herself, but with him she likes being able to explore more with him. He doesn't judge her. Instead he seems to enjoy whatever it is she gives to him. That in itself draws her more to him.

She hums into the kiss, claiming him again. She enjoys this position, being able to set the pace, having him be the one that settles with what she is able to do. Not that he couldn't do other things, but she enjoys this as it is. She takes him all in each time her hips drop down before grinding her wet pussy in his lap. Her own clit rubbing against him each time she does, making her emit a needy sort of sound as she starts to build in momentum.]

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