Work Text:
I cheated myself
Like I knew I would
I told you I was trouble
You know that I'm no good
You Know I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse
Through the haze of cigarette smoke, Jon’s eyes followed her closely, so much so that he didn’t even pay attention to the hand the dealer just dealt. He had folded the last three rounds without even sparing a glance at his cards.
She looked exactly as he remembered. No, that wasn’t true, he decided. She looked even better, for surely if she had looked then as she did now, there was no way in all seven hells any man in his right mind would have been strong enough to leave her bed. As it was, it had taken nearly everything in him to do so. A decision that he’d spent five years trying to convince himself was the right one.
Her hair was shorter, no longer the long wavy moonlit locks that reached the middle of her back. Now, they dusted a little past her shoulders and he found her even more alluring; the seductive yet sophisticated look suiting her perfectly. This Dany wasn’t the wide-eyed, naive, twenty-three year old that he had spent one glorious summer exploring.
It was obvious in the way she was poured into her black dress, the slinky material hugging her form like a second skin. It had a deep v neckline that allowed for a peek of cleavage, the thin straps held the material to cradle those perfect breasts, with a slit on her left side up to her hip bone.
Every movement she made gave him a peek of a sliver of her exposed flesh and his hands tingled in remembrance, bringing him back to a time when he used to stroke over those supple thighs every night, petting them to part open for him.
Through their years apart, he’d never forgotten her touch. It was both a blessing and a curse.
He knew she was going to be there that night and had been waiting for her for the better part of an hour. What he hadn’t expected was that she would show up on the arm of the man who was part owner of the casino.
It shouldn’t have been surprising considering her company did the PR for the grand opening, but it was the kind of information he should have been informed of and the fact that he wasn’t, would not bode well for his inside man. Edd was going to get his ass handed to him for this one; Jon could guarantee it.
Before the next hand was dealt, he tilted his head back and downed the rest of his drink in one go, then got up from the table.
Skirting the bustling tables and machines, Jon kept to the shadows of the room as he continued to stalk her from the distance. She was at the blackjack table, watching as her companion placed his bets. One of the cocktail waitresses brought them another round and he noticed the man place his hand on the small of Dany’s back as he handed her a drink.
The flare of possessiveness was quick and insistent, unwarranted as it was. There was no need for the surge of resentment at seeing another man’s hand where his used to be. They’d made no promises of commitment to one another. Yet, his eyes burned into the back of the man’s head. Though he was sure Naharis was packing heat, Jon had no doubt he could easily disable him before he even finished taking a swallow from his drink.
He was Special Ops in the Night's Watch, an elite branch of the Westerosi Army. Disarming an opponent swiftly and completely was a skill mastered before he even finished with basic training. Right now, it would bring him the utmost pleasure to stalk over and crush every single one of the bones in the man’s hand for having ever touched her.
How many times had his own hand wandered there, to that same spot? How often had his lips trailed over the curve of her spine, licking his way down her back until he reached it?
Not bothering to try and abate the jealousy that twisted inside, he allowed it to rear its head like a beast and devour him. The small of her back belonged to him and damn the years between them, but he’d not allow anyone to claim what was his.
Dany looked up at her date and whispered something to him before stepping away from his embrace. Making her way to the bar, she discarded the drink he had given her to a passing waitress. She took a seat on one of the stools and he didn’t need to hear her before knowing she ordered a glass of Dornish red. It was always her favorite.
“Can I get you something to drink, handsome?”
The voice of the scantily clad waitress came from his left and he spared her the briefest of looks. Instantly, she arched her back and pushed her breasts forward as she shot a dazzling smile his way.
His eyes shifted away and back to Dany as they were always prone to do. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll get it myself.”
Jon walked off in her direction, not having any clue of what he would say; had no idea what he could say after five years. He’d never been accused of being rational, his instincts more than once driving him to charge fearlessly into raids under enemy territory. It was that same tenacity that propelled him now, every fiber of his body screaming out for her.
It was instinctual and he couldn’t control it any more than he could the adrenaline that coursed through his body as every step drew him closer. When he reached her, he circled her waist from behind and pressed himself into her back.
She stiffened and he heard her gasp. He tightened his arm around her and then she stilled, taking a deep inhale of breath and holding it. He found himself doing the same, pushing his nose through her silver strands until it touched the back of her neck. He caught her intoxicating scent and both waited with bated breath for the other.
When she let it out, the tension melted away and she relaxed against his chest.
“Hello, Jon.”
His lips pulled into a smile against her smooth skin.
“Hello, Dany.”
For one brief moment, she had a mind to swivel on her stool, incensed that her date for the evening would dare take such liberties with her when she had not permitted him to do so.
Until his hand had tightened around her. In that split second, she just knew. It had been five years, but she’d never forgotten. The touch could only belong to one man and one man alone.
Damn him.
Damn him to all seven hells and back.
One deep breath a split second later had confirmed it; the unmistakable scent of smoke and snow and whiskey and Jon. The same one that had tortured her for more restless nights through the years than she would ever admit.
The chest she had her back pressed against was solid muscle, his heat radiating through their layers. The arm snaked around her, strong and sure, and her eyes flicked down. His free hand had moved to rest on her exposed thigh.
Those same large hands, fingers long and elegant, beautifully so, had spent a sizzling summer roaming over every inch of her. They were the hands of an artist and she was sure in some alternate universe he would have been a sculptor. He had the patience of one, at least when it came to exploring her. Always taking time to knead and stroke, running his fingers over her flesh to memorize every curve before getting to work.
His hand was hot and she felt the callouses on them against her skin, reminding her that those same hands didn’t create marvelous works of art, but sought to defend and protect the citizens of Westeros. They were beautiful, but deadly. A perfect analogy for Jon and one she would do well to remember. Their parting all those years ago and the pain that accompanied it had almost destroyed her.
She didn’t turn around when she spoke. “I told you I was trouble.”
He pressed his lips to her ear and her body betrayed her when it shivered at his hot breath against the side of her face. “I told you I’m no good.”
She closed her eyes a moment. Neither one of them was wrong. And yet, here they were.
She swiveled around on her stool, only a smidge until she was turned halfway toward Jon and took him in. Beginning from the bottom of his suit and scanning up, she was impressed. The man could wear a suit like no one’s business.
It was black, of course, and fitted to his athletic body. She didn’t need to peel his shirt away to know that under the material, he was nothing but taut, sinewy muscles and rough skin. He still had his gorgeous hair, those raven black curls she used to love running her fingers through while he slept beside her.
Tugging on them had been her favorite way to past time and she had spent way too many nights with her fingers sunk into those curls as he burrowed between her thighs. Or between her breasts. Or in the crook of her neck.
But it was his beautiful face that haunted her most. It was always in those grey eyes that she found him, dark as they tended to be whenever he looked at her. They saw through everything and she wondered if her true feelings lay more exposed than her body when they had been together.
Dany looked into those dark depths now, trying to gauge what he was thinking. “Then what are you doing here?”
He had dropped his hands from her body when she turned toward him, but now, his fingertips grazed her knee slightly. “Testing my luck at the tables.”
She merely raised an amused brow. That wasn’t what she meant and they both knew it. She didn’t believe in coincidences and without a doubt, this was no chance meeting. He knew she’d be there.
“And how did you fare?”
“I won.”
Of course he did. Was there nothing he didn’t excel at?
“But I usually do.” He smoothly glided his hand from her knee to mid-thigh as if he had every right to do so. “It’s not gambling when you know you’ll win.”
His fingers were slowly driving her insane and her legs were beginning to quiver. In an effort to stop them from trembling further, she squeezed them tightly together. He didn’t need to know the effect he still had on her.
“You must believe yourself lucky tonight.”
She did her best to look indifferent and raised a hand up to touch the thin gold necklace at her throat. Dany lightly played with it and ran a single finger against her clavicle bone. His eyes darted down and followed her movement, the invisible string pulling him along without any resistance.
Not to be outdone, Jon trailed his hand a little higher and she could already feel the wetness pooling between her legs, soaking through her useless thong panty as he continued his lazy strokes.
“I believe the odds are in my favor.”
His eyes moved up to her lips as she took a deliberate sip of her wine. She parted them and used the tip of her tongue to lick the corner of her mouth to catch a lingering drop she knew wasn’t there.
“Then you’re a fool.” He tilted his head slightly and Dany held his gaze, refusing to look away. When she spoke, her voice held none of the heat that was burning her up on the inside. “Your luck ran out five years ago.”
A lesser man would have slunk away, ego bruised at her harsh words, but not him. She'd found out really quickly there was nothing about Jon Snow that was lesser than. It was what she both loved and loathed. It was the reason why she still craved him.
No one in the years since had ever been able to compare. She'd long since accepted that he was her burden to bear.
Without taking his eyes off of her, he reached for her glass of wine and brought it to his lips for a taste. Now it was she who couldn’t look away from those full lips.
“I have a gambling tip for you, Dany.” His voice was smooth and deep, that northern brogue curling around the syllables of her name, as comforting as his embrace once was.
He leaned into her, invading her personal space and causing her heart to pound erratically at his nearness. She wet her lips and swallowed to clear the sudden tightness in her throat.
“What tip is that...Jon?” She purred out the last part on purpose, just to torment him the way he was doing her.
He’d once revealed to her that it thrilled him when she said his full name, not just Jon, but Jon Snow. When he asked why she said it that way, she’d foolishly admitted the truth; she savored the sound of it so much on her tongue that she wanted to prolong it for as long as possible. At the intentional use of only his first name, the simmering embers in his eyes sparked a flare. She'd provoked him and he had never been one to resist a challenge.
She was playing with fire and Dany knew she should stop, but it had been so long since she felt his heat. Perhaps a part of her wanted to be burned.
He closed the distance between their faces, his mouth hovering over her own. His hand followed suit, creeping up the last couple of inches, but his gaze never faltered and neither did hers.
“Stay away from the poker table.” His mouth lifted in a lazy half smile. “You’re shit at bluffing.”
Jon slipped his hand beneath the slit in her dress. He traced along the crease at the top of her thigh, then brushed his thumb softly against her hip bone before sweeping under to cup the curve of her bare cheek.
He was caressing her in open view of everyone, his stance beside her blocking some of his actions, but not all. He didn’t give a damn that anyone, including her date, could walk by at any moment and see what he was doing.
She lifted her chin defiantly. “That’s why I no longer gamble. The last time I did, I foolishly went all in. And I lost.”
His hand stilled and the fiery look in his eyes snuffed out. A small sigh escaped his lips, followed by a soft, “Dany.”
It was unfair of her to act like the only wounded party when she knew he had been as hurt by their parting. But then, she wasn’t the one who showed up after five years wanting to pick up where they left off. Unlike him, she learned her lesson the first time and had no intentions of making the same mistake twice.
“Daenerys?”
Daario's voice caused her to break eye contact with Jon as he strode up to them. His smile faltered when he zoomed in on Jon’s hand, still very much cupping her intimately.
The two men eyed each other, the instant contempt for one another apparent.
“What the hell is going on here?” Daario directed his question to her, but his eyes never left Jon’s.
For his part, Jon didn’t seem fazed in the least. Considering Daario was her date, he should have instantly taken his hand off of her. Instead, he slowly trailed it back down her thigh until it came to rest at his side.
The movement was purposeful, a direct message to Daario that this was his territory and he was staking his claim. Half of Dany was outraged he had the audacity to think he still had a right to her after all these years. But the other half was aroused to the point where she wanted to see just what he planned on doing to mark her as his.
Causing contradictions within her was what he did best, making her head war with her heart. Jon made her pull him close when she should have pushed him away; kiss him when he had told her not to; fuck him when she knew it was a mistake.
He made her love him, even when she knew he would leave.
Not wanting either man to cause a scene, she uncrossed her leg and stood, placing her body between the two of them.
“Nothing is going on.” She placed a hand on Daario’s arm before he did something stupid. She didn’t need him to defend her honor and truthfully, she worried what Jon would do to him in a fight.
Her movement caused a scowl to appear on Jon’s face, but she wasn’t responsible for his assumptions and would not attempt to pacify him. “Mr. Snow was just giving me some gambling tips.”
Daario tore his gaze away and glanced down at her. Her touch must have given him the invitation he’d been waiting for all evening because he wrapped his hand around her back and started stroking. “If that’s what you wanted, you could have asked me. I’d be happy to show you my skills.”
I’m sure you would, she thought. She had no interest in seeing any of his skills and had only accepted this date as a goodwill gesture on behalf of their two companies successfully working together.
He turned back to face Jon, a look of derision on his face. “Your assistance won’t be needed any further this evening. Anything Daenerys wants, she can come to me for.”
Jon smiled and to anyone else, it would have appeared non-threatening, but she knew better. She recognized the raging wolf beneath the surface, his lips that turned up in a smile able to transform into an instant snarl right before he would strike.
Jon took one step closer, not backing down and she panicked. “Daario, I think you should have security escort Mr. Snow out.”
“There’s no need to involve them,” Daario said. “I can personally show him out myself.”
Jon’s grin widened and he lifted his chin up, the movement subtle, but the challenge was there.
Daario made a move to come closer and she put a hand up on his chest to stop him. She could feel the waves of tension emanating from Jon beside her and knew he’d love nothing more than for her date to escort him outside.
“I don’t think that’s the best recourse to take.” She knew Daario's pride was on the line so she sucked in a breath and knew she had to appeal to his massive ego. “It wouldn’t look good for the shareholders if you were to disappear on opening night.”
He still looked unconvinced, dead set on thinking he could handle Jon and so she smiled at him. “Besides, who will protect me if you leave?”
That did the trick and she felt him relax. His eyes scanned the room until he found what he was looking for, then lifted a hand up and gestured. A few seconds later, two security guards appeared by their sides.
“Gentlemen, would you care to escort Mr. Snow here off the premises?” Daario threw a cocky grin his way. “I would do it myself, but the lovely Daenerys needs me by her side.”
She and Jon stared at each other a moment before he took her hand in his. “It’s been a pleasure, but I suppose my luck was bound to run out.” He lifted her hand up to his lips and gave it a kiss. “Goodbye, Dany.”
He dropped her hand and backed up, his eyes locking with hers before he quickly swiveled around and sauntered away, the two guards trailing a few paces behind.
She watched him go, her heart aching with heaviness.
The Penthouse suite was luxurious, one of five the hotel boasted and no expenses were spared when it came to furnishings or comfort. Walking inside, she didn’t bother with the lights as the large floor-to-ceiling windows opened over the water and had the best views the city skyline had to offer.
Dany walked into the bedroom and slid the door to the balcony open. Stepping out, she breathed in the cool night air. The full moon was out and she stood a moment, trying to still her beating heart.
On another full moon night, five years ago, she had stood under its glow as well, watching Jon get dressed in the dark.
She gathered the bedsheets around her naked body and knew the smell of them and what they had done the whole night through, would linger on the sheets long after he was gone.
He was beautiful, looking disheveled and thoroughly sated in the dim lighting. She tried to memorize him to give herself something to occupy her mind with. Anything to distract from the pain of him leaving.
It was foolish. They both knew this day was coming, had known it from the beginning before they embarked down this path. At the time, Jon was on hiatus from the Night's Watch and was due to report back in three months' time.
They both knew that. They accepted it and agreed to keep it light and fun.
“I don’t know about this, Jon,” she had teased after she kissed him the first time three months prior. “I think I might be trouble for you.”
“Aye, you’re trouble indeed,” he had said before he kissed her back just as fervently. “I’m no good for you, Dany. I’ll break your heart when I leave and if you were smart, you shouldn’t kiss me anymore.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Jon Snow,” she replied, right before she crashed her lips to his.
And now, she knew he was right. She shouldn’t have kissed him anymore after that first time because he was leaving and her heart was breaking.
She wiped her eyes and sniffled quietly. He glanced over at her and came back to the bed, crawling in to sit beside her.
Gently, he kissed her closed lids and wiped her cheek with his thumbs. “I’m sorry.”
Shaking her head against him, she let out a little sigh. “Don’t, Jon. It’s not your fault.”
They held each other, not wanting to let go, but knowing it would do no good to linger either. The best thing to do was treat it like they were supposed to all along so she pulled back from him and forced a smile.
“You better get that glorious ass out of here or you’re going to miss your plane,” she said. “I’m going to miss all the great sex we had.”
He looked at her a moment before his lips curved up too, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s a damn shame it had to end,” he agreed. “I’m going to miss it as well.”
She nodded, glad he was just as willing to keep it lighthearted. “Remember what we said. No contact after today. It’s easier this way.”
But it hadn’t been. When it came to him, it was never easy. It wasn’t then and it wasn’t now. Perhaps she was making a mistake, but then of all the mistakes she’d ever made in her life, Jon was her favorite.
When she felt calm again, she finally stepped back inside.
Her suitcase was already put away, her clothing and personal items all stowed in their proper place. She shimmied out of her dress and hung it up in the closet. The black lace thong she had on was slipped off and rifling through the dresser, she pulled out a fresh set of lingerie. Black always was his favorite color.
The bra was cut very low and cradled her breasts lovingly, pushing them up and out. Putting the bottoms on gave her a pinup girl vibe, as they were loose and sheer, cut high in the back so that it would give a tantalizing peek of her cheeks from behind.
She turned on a single lamp, then walked over to the vanity table. Grabbing her bottle of perfume, she dabbed a bit in the valley between her breasts and on her pulse points. She was still leaning over the table when a movement in the mirror caught her eye.
Looking up, she and Jon locked eyes in the glass. He had slipped inside her room so quietly, as was his way. She didn’t know how he did it, but she’d never had any doubt he’d find his way to her. He must have discarded his clothes in the living room because he only wore his black boxer briefs.
Despite having him thrown out, they both knew exactly where he was going to end up this night. It was reckless of them to come together again, knowing the heartache that was in store. But just like five years ago, it was inevitable. They couldn’t stop then and they couldn’t stop tonight.
She could feel his gaze penetrating her from behind, his eyes roaming over her bent form from across the room. Even through the distance, his heat licked at her, the flames dancing over her skin in featherlike strokes.
Dany didn’t move. Just stayed still and let him get his fill of her. Jon was always patient, as all predators were. He’d spent the night stalking her and now that he had her pinned, he’d take his sweet time to devour.
He kept his movements deliberate as he slowly prowled forward, their gazes never parting from each other in the mirror. When he reached her, he stood silently, watching.
“That was a very dangerous game you were playing downstairs, Dany.”
“I don’t play games.”
His hands held onto her shoulders before sliding to the middle of her back. He stroked his way down until he reached her ass, then slipped his hands under the sheer loose material to cup her.
Her eyes closed and she sucked in a breath. How she had missed those hands of his.
Jon squeezed her cheeks and smoothed his hands over them, rubbing the fleshy mounds with his fingers. He moved his hands up and slipped an arm around her waist, the other hand gripping her upper arm before he stood up straight and jerked her back against him. Her back was now pressed flushed to his naked chest.
“If you weren’t playing at a game, then you must enjoy riling me up.”
Jon was beautiful in the low light, his muscular arms holding her tightly, his dark curls falling over his face. She could feel his hard cock poking into her back, the rigid shaft pulsing between their bodies.
His hands moved up and he slipped two thumbs beneath the straps of her bra, drawing them down and off her shoulders. He peeled the cups down so her breasts were exposed to his dark eyes, but he didn’t take it off.
His breathing had become more shallow as soon as he bared her and his hot breaths fanned the side of her face from behind. Those large hands moved up to fondle them, squeezing the mounds together.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she panted out. “I was on a date. I didn’t even know you’d be here tonight.”
At the mention of her date, Jon growled.
“Was this for him?” He reached a hand down and fisted it in the sheer fabric. “Did you buy this fancy lingerie to wear for Naharis?”
She scowled. “Were you stalking me? How did you know his name?”
At her accusatory tone, he relaxed and he let go of her panties. “I make it my mission to gather intelligence. I still know everything about you.”
That confession brought a thrill snaking through her body. Though they’d agreed to have no further contact when they parted, Jon just admitted he’d kept tabs on her. As she had on him.
“If you’re so good at your job, then answer your own damn question.”
A smirk grace his lips for a split second before it disappeared. He started pulling at her nipple and rolled it between his fingers. A whimper escaped as he pinched the sensitive tip just enough to bring a tinge of sweet pain, the feeling resonating lower as her cunt throbbed insistently.
Jon’s other hand slipped inside the front of her soaked panties and he skimmed down until his fingers found her, then began his torturous slow sweeps.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against him, one hand reaching to brush up the side of his face until she tangled in his curls.
“He better not have touched you.” He sucked on the skin of her neck a few seconds before biting it, his teeth grazing down to sink into her shoulder and she yanked on the strands fisted in her hands to urge for more. “I could kill him for trying to take what’s mine.”
She was writhing against him, but at his tone, her lids flew open. “I’m not yours,” she reminded him. “I’m free to do whatever I want, with whomever I want. Same as you.”
His fingers curled around her possessively. “I don’t want anyone else. I never have.”
He slid his hand between her silky lips and dipped into her wetness, spreading it around. “This is mine,” Jon whispered into her ear, his voice low and husky. “I don’t give a fuck how long it’s been; this belongs to me and no one else.”
Her knees buckled at his words and it was a good thing she was already leaning back against him as he held on to her. He circled her clit, massaging her gently with his slick fingers.
“Be a good girl, Dany, and say it,” he commanded. “Tell me it’s mine.”
“No.” She would not give him that satisfaction. It was enough that she knew it; no good could come from him having that information.
Jon chuckled lowly in his throat. “You will scream it for me before the night is over.”
He swiveled her around and lifted her up to sit on the vanity table. They looked at each other and the need for him roared up, engulfing her completely as she stared into those grey eyes that held so much longing.
She felt hypnotized by his gaze, unable to do anything more than bite her lip as he feasted on her without even touching her. “Say it’s mine.”
Shaking her head, she wrapped her hands around his head and drew him into her embrace. She needed to taste him, had to fill her mouth with Jon. He was the only thing that could fill the ache in her heart.
Their mouths sought each other out. He tasted exactly as she remembered and her lips quickly opened to seek out his tongue. They explored each other, their lips unable to part as they chased after the pleasure that had been denied for far too long.
Her hands moved to roam his body, trailing over his broad shoulders and down to squeeze his biceps. Her fingers brushed over his abs, silently counting each section of his impressive muscles.
He was a modern day warrior and his extraordinary body showcased it well. She ventured lower until she was palming his hard cock in her hands. When she squeezed his shaft, Jon groaned into her mouth.
His hands moved to capture hers and he twisted her arms behind her back, holding them in one hand so she was no longer able to explore him. She pouted against his mouth before quickly biting his lower lip in retaliation, knowing that he wasn’t looking to play fair. She could undo him as quickly as he could her.
“Tell me”—he whispered—“it’s mine.”
When she just pressed her lips closer together, he leaned into her so her back was against the mirror. With her hands still behind her back, his mouth waged an attack on her neck. He kissed and sucked the column of her throat, taking bites when he wanted to hear her moan louder.
She was thrashing under him, trying to wiggle free from his grasp, but he only tightened his hold on her wrists. Feeling helpless and needy, she instead arched her back, thrusting her breasts against his lips in offering. If she couldn’t beat him, then she might as well join him.
Jon closed over her nipple, sucking it into his hot, wet mouth. She whined, her legs tightening around his hips and then she felt his cock jutting into her entrance through their thin layers. She was empty and unfilled and he needed to remedy that so she rocked her hips against him, demanding he do something about it.
He understood what she wanted and his free hand reached in between their bodies. She was hoping he’d free his cock and use it on her, but instead, it was his fingers that slid inside her wet heat.
Both fingers went in at once and she cried out as she bucked against his hand. His mouth continued to bite at her nipples, having moved from one side to the other, where he was slowly swirling his tongue around the tip. When he sped up his fingers, he did the same with his tongue and now they were working in conjunction to torment her.
He was driving her mad with his movements, bringing her just close enough to the brink before backing off and she could take it no longer.
“It’s yours, Jon,” she gasped. “Only yours.”
Grinning in victory, he lifted his face from her breast and moved up to her ear. “Mine and no one else’s.” His tongue slithered out and licked the shell of her ear, his teeth tugging on her lobe. “Now, be a good girl and tell me what you need?”
Her cunt was pulsing with urgency, his fingers playing with her, but it was greedy and called out to be filled with him.
“I need you,” she demanded. “I need to feel you inside of me.”
As soon as she said those words, his hand let go of her and he slid her off. He ripped her panties down her legs and she quickly kicked them away. He found the hooks on her bra and had it off before he flung it over his shoulder.
She grabbed the waistband of his boxers, shoving them down his legs. They stared at each other a split second before she jumped into his arms, her mouth latching onto his in a frenzy.
Jon grabbed onto her and walked them over to the wall of her room. There he pressed her tightly against it, his body holding them in place. He scooped his hands beneath her knees and spread her wide open, while her hand reached between their bodies to grip his cock.
He was so hot and thick, jumping eagerly in her grip. Since he was holding her up, she took the liberty of sliding his tip through her folds, saturating him in her wetness.
She held him and teased at her entrance for a moment, settling him into position before letting go and gripping his shoulders.
“Fuck me, Jon,” she demanded between kisses. “I can’t wait anymore.”
He smiled against her lips. “Jon, what?” he teased.
The cocky bastard always knew how to get what he wanted. Normally, she’d fight him, but it had been too damn long. She was on fire and needed the relief that only he alone had ever been able to bring.
“Fuck me, Jon Snow!”
He slid in hard and fast, all the way in, so deeply that she screamed.
“Again,” he growled as he bit her lip. “I want to hear you scream my name.”
So she did, screaming his full name as he fucked her into the wall. His pace was frenetic and she surrendered to it fully, not even caring how loud she was being as they pounded against the flat surface repeatedly.
Dany was bouncing in his strong arms, his hips thrusting into her furiously when she felt the build-up coming. She was breathless and sweaty, fingers gripped tightly to his shoulders when the explosion rocked through her.
He was stroking so deeply inside and she could feel every slide in and out, her walls kissing his girth in remembrance, embracing their long lost lover. Her toes curled of their own volition and her body seized up as the orgasm peaked, bringing waves of such sweet release that a few tears found their way down her face.
“Who do you belong to?” he demanded in between thrusts.
“Jon Snow,” she moaned against his ear as she half cried, half whimpered in pleasure. “I’m yours.”
Her words spurred him faster and he grunted as he came. Jon let loose and gripped her tighter, pressing her back into the wall now as he pumped into her. She clenched around him, fluttering her wall muscles against his cock. “Fuck, Dany!”
She continued with her pulses and clutched him tightly as he rode through his peak, the two of them shouting and cursing through it all.
When they were done, she leaned her head on his shoulder, her breathing as ragged as his. He kissed the side of her head and tightened his arms around her before moving them away from the wall. He laid her gently over the covers, then slid in beside her.
Jon pulled her close to his chest, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder and she wrapped her arms around him. She could feel the thumping of his heart against her cheek.
His warmth surrounded her and she could feel the tears well up inside, but she tried to push them back down. They wouldn’t change anything and she’d already cried enough over him. She knew what she was getting when they first met and had accepted it. There was nothing to do about it now.
They lay together, holding on to each other as if it was their last night together, which it may very well be. His hand found hers and he linked their fingers together before bringing them up to his lips for a kiss.
She lifted her head up and looked at him. She knew he could see the question in her eyes and she silently pleaded with him not to make her ask it out loud.
Asking out loud would mean she cared what the answer was and she wasn’t supposed to care. It was just about the sex. That’s what they had promised each other.
But they were lousy at keeping their promises. They promised it was just sex. They promised not to have any contact after the summer ended. They promised they would move on from each other. So many promises made and so many promises broken.
“Eight hours.” Jon let go of her hand and his thumb caught the tear at the corner of her eye. She hadn’t even realized it was there.
He wouldn’t let them fall; not while they were still together. Their moment was fragile enough as it was, the weight of her tears had the strength to shatter the delicate shelter they sought refuge under and send it crumbling down around them.
Eight hours wasn’t enough and she wouldn't waste a moment of it. Rolling over him, she straddled his hips and sat up, giving him a knowing smile. “That was a very naughty thing to do.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’ve no idea what you’re inferring.”
Slowly, she started sliding against him, grinding her still drenched lips against his shaft and she could feel his cock twitching, hardening quickly at her teasing. “Like hell you don’t.”
He wrapped his hands around her hips and started sliding her back and forth before lifting her up. He reached down and held himself steady for her to drive down onto. She cried out as he pierced her again, shifting a bit on her knees to allow him to probe deeper.
“You fucked me against that wall on purpose,” she accused him as she started rolling her hips.
Jon was unable to hide his smug grin and he quickly sat up. “Was that Naharis’ room next door? I didn’t know he had also retired for the night.”
They kissed each other and she giggled against his mouth. “You’re wicked.”
“I told you I’m no good,” he agreed shamelessly. “Now, ride me hard and scream my name again.”
His heart was pounding, a cold sweat breaking out, but his hands were steady, holding tightly to the weapon in his grip. His team was surrounded on all sides by enemies, outnumbered, their backs against the wall.
Too late, he realized their plan had failed. It was an ambush and they’d most likely die here, tonight. Briefly he closed his eyes, but instead of the cold blues of death coming for him, he saw her violet ones.
Dany.
If he could go back in time to two months ago, he’d not leave her side ever again. Nothing had been the same since he’d been back, the rush of adrenaline he used to get from these raids now felt foolish and reckless.
If he were to lose his life tonight, which it looked like he was, it was hardly worth it. When it was his time to meet the gods, he wanted to do it after a lifetime of loving her, of waking up every day to see her smiling face. He didn’t want to die cold and alone, surrounded by enemies on some mission beyond the wall.
He opened his eyes, took a deep breath and felt the explosion from behind. Jon flinched, ducking down automatically as the sound of gunfire being exchanged and men running away grew louder all around him.
He reared up and gripped his gun, ready to fight his way back to her.
Dany made her way through her bedroom to the bedside table to turn on the lamp. Halfway there, she stopped, a silhouette frozen in the darkness.
“Jon.”
The bedside lamp flicked on and he was sitting on her bed, propped up against the pillows. “Hello, Dany.”
They eyed each other for a few seconds. She looked radiant, like she always did, even when she wasn’t smiling, but scowling as she was now.
“Why are you here?”
She looked at him warily, like she couldn’t quite believe he was sitting in front of her after being parted for these last few months. He couldn't say he blamed her as he was finding all of it quite impossible to believe himself.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to see you.”
Breaking out of her surprise, she finally started to move. She walked over to her large walk-in closet first and turned on the light, then slipped out of her heels. He watched her silently, waiting for her to gather her thoughts.
“I can see that.” She reached up and started unbuttoning her blouse, her fingers working slowly to torment him. “But why are you here?”
Finished, she slipped it off her shoulders and stood in a red lace bra.
He got up off her bed and made his way around it to sit on the foot of it instead, keeping his distance. “Did you know that I almost died?”
She was in the middle of unzipping her skirt and stopped halfway to look over her shoulder at him. “Hmm….I thought that came with the job. Doesn’t every mission you go on entail you risking your life to save the world?”
He chuckled because she wasn’t wrong. His life was at stake every time he stepped foot out there. “Aye, but this was the first time I thought I might actually die.”
Her skirt now off, she stood in her underwear and jewelry before him, her long necklace falling in the valley between her breasts. He was starting to find it hard to concentrate being in her presence.
“I thought that’s what you loved.” She turned around and walked into her closet. A moment later, she emerged, clad in a short, satin white nightgown trimmed in lace. “Isn’t that what you told me? You love the adrenaline rush, the thrill of never knowing where your next mission will take you, the excitement of looking death in the face and laughing.”
She moved to her dresser and began taking off her jewelry to put into a little box on the top. “You said you couldn’t see yourself doing anything else with your life. It’s your passion.”
Their eyes met in the mirror and he walked slowly up behind her until he stood at her back.
“It was.”
She quirked one brow up at him. “Was?”
“Aye, it was.”
They looked at each other through the glass and he could see a confused expression on her face. He placed his hands on her shoulder and bent down to kiss the smooth skin before straightening up.
“When I thought I might die, I knew in that moment what I really loved.”
Pausing for a second, she held her discarded earrings in her hand as she studied his face, searching for clarity. “What do you love, Jon?”
“I love the adrenaline rush I get when you press your lips to mine.”
He gently stroked a finger down her arm. “I love the thrill of never knowing what will come out of that smart mouth of yours, your witty remarks that keep me guessing and on my toes.”
He reached an arm around and circled her waist. “I love the excitement of looking into your beautiful face, the way your infectious laugh can bring me out of my most dour mood.”
He nuzzled his face into her hair and took a deep breath. “Most of all, I realized that I love you, Dany, and I can’t see myself living the rest of my life without you.”
She turned in his arms and they locked eyes. He could see the hope shining brightly in hers as she bit her lip. “You love me.”
He let out a nervous laugh. It felt freeing to finally tell her, after all these years. “I love you, Dany.” His fingers moved up to tap over her heart. “Tell me this is mine.”
A smile broke out over her face and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s yours, Jon Snow.” She pressed her lips to his in a happy kiss. “Always yours.”