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Bear Island was cold. It wasn't a good cold, it was excessive, intensely, violently and awfully cold. According to Jorah it wasn't always that cold, the reason why it was so icy it was the winter. He smiled when she complained, at the beginning, now he just laughed along with his cousins when they talked about how southern people should not be allowed to go further than the North's neck. Although she should be offended by this, she took the opportunity to make Jorah pay for his jokes every night.
Tonight the cold Daenerys felt was different, it was a welcomed cold. And it was only reaching her back, biting into her skin as the hard rock of the chamber marked her. But even with the excruciating cold pushing its way into her bones, she was completely on fire. He took his time, and pounded slowly into her. Jorah's body was keeping her in place, trapping her in, between his chest and the wall. The curls of his chest hair rubbed against her nipples lightly, making her squirm and try to get away. Not that it was a possibility.
Dany thought about how before she considered his hair amusing, calling him her bear, it didn't bother him, it actually made him feel proud. And now that everything changed in their relationship, it didn't seem strange at all to let him kiss her, touch her, hold her, not even hear when he said he loved her. There was another time when he looked at her with sadness in a fighting pit, begging for forgiveness and she still said no...
Suddenly, Jorah stoped moving, teasing her. Dani tried to move, but she was completely trapped, so she decided to glare and huff. Jorah had the nerve to look amused. Slowly, taking all the time in the world, almost languidly, he pushed inside her, barely touching her core and retreating back. Jorah pushed back inside her and lowered his mouth to suck on the left side of her neck, causing her to moan out loud and rack her fingernails in retaliation on his back. He howled in delight instead of distaste as she was hopping.
Daenerys was above begging, at least that was what she wanted to believe, she didn't want to be like her brother Viserys, but an image, a memory that refused to go away from her mind came back, always came back when they were together. A fighting pit, the look on his face, the way he said "Khaleesi, please", the way she coldly denied with a head shake.
She was refusing to give in and ask for him to move faster. So Jorah, always clever, put his hands on each of her breasts and rolled her nipples at the same time. Her gasp only earned a chuckle from him. She kept telling herself that she could succeed, that she was the mother of dragons, the Queen of Westeros. Until a particular hip movement from Jorah (the bastard) made her pant.
Jorah was a patient man, he had been for a long time. Knowing Daenerys pressure point, he put his left hand under her thigh, lifting her up enough to be able to bite on her nipple as he pressed her harder against the wall while still moving slow.
That was the stage when she couldn't take it anymore. Imploring him to move faster, harder, please... He lowered her to her previous position and pounded like he was supposed to do in the beginning. It was a moment later when Daenerys cried her release and a few seconds for him to shout her name in a chant. She thanked the gods Jorah's family went hunting.