He heard the sharp little gulp. A smirk curled his lips against Unella's inner thigh. He could almost taste Daenerys' hesitation. She had watched him 'bless' before, but never like this. Never getting intimately involved.
Bronn offered no further words. He simply buried his face between Unella's thighs and devoured her like a starving man. His tongue plunged deep, sloppy and shameless, curling inside her fluttering petals while he sucked noisily at her swollen clit, taking the joy of being the only man to have ever touched this depth of her. His lips sealed over her dripping folds, his tongue fucking in and out with a frenzy.
Slurp! Squelch!
He made sure every sound carried, every wet smack and greedy swallow loud enough to burn into Daenerys' ears while he waited, cock throbbing untouched.
Soon, a soft rustle of fabric, a hesitant shuffle of bare feet. Then warmth, delicate heat, brushing the backs of his thighs. He could picture it; Daenerys on her knees behind him, face inches from his ass, violet eyes wide and uncertain.
He chuckled low against Unella's slick petals, the vibration making her hips jerk.
"M-Master… I'll begin."
Bronn answered only with a deep, approving hum that rumbled straight into Unella's core, tongue never slowing.
Oh! Seven whores and their sons! Fuck!
The first touch nearly made his knees buckle. Those soft, delicate fingers slid from between his parted thighs and cradled his heavy balls. She handled them one at a time, gentle squeezes that sent electric jolts racing up his spine.
Each careful roll of his sac in her palm felt otherworldly; the anticipation clawed at his mind until he was half-mad with it. He wanted to spin around, throw her down, rip that gown away, and plunge into her untouched heat right then. Instead, he forced himself to breathe through his nose, inhaling Unella's thick musk while Daenerys' innocent hands worshipped his family jewels.
He dragged his focus back to the cunt grinding against his mouth. Tongue spearing deeper, lips sucking harder, he drank Unella's flooding arousal like unholy wine.
"Ghhh…" He groaned the instant Daenerys' fingers finally closed around his shaft.
Her petite hand could barely encircle his girth; she had to use both now, spreading the red oil from base to swollen tip in long strokes. She was hesitant at first, then grew bolder. Her fingers glided over every pulsing vein as if he were her stallion.
From base to the tip. Every few strokes, her cheek or the silk of her hair brushed the cleft of his ass as she leaned in closer to reach his full length. The accidental contact sent fresh fire through his veins.
This was perfection, his beautiful Targaryen trophy kneeling behind him to ready his cock for another woman. The sheer taboo of it, the power, the blasphemy, had him teetering on the edge already.
Squelch! Squelch!
Daenerys stared, transfixed, at the thick flesh throbbing in her oiled hands. Pearly beads of precum welled from the slit with every upward stroke, smearing across her palms. Her hands were a mess, slick and sliding with each stroke, glistening with oil. The scent hit her harder now.
Heat bloomed low in her own belly, sudden and unreasonable. Between her pale thighs a shameful dampness gathered, soaking the thin silk of her gown. She pressed her legs together, but that only made the ache sharper, the slick slide of her own arousal more noticeable. Her breath came quicker, shallower.
She told herself this was only curiosity, only obedience to her master's lesson. But she wanted… something.
She stroked faster, almost frantically, chasing the violent throb that seemed to echo in her own core, no more caring if her cheek flattened on his back.
"That's enough."
The command snapped through her haze. Daenerys froze, fingers still wrapped around him, then released him at once and scrambled back a step, cheeks burning.
"Come up here. Stand beside me and watch me bless Unella," Lord Septon ordered.
Still trembling, Daenerys rose on unsteady legs. She stepped to his side until their bare arms brushed and lifted her gaze.
Up close, the scene was obscene; Septa Unella sprawled across the desk, thighs hooked wide over the Lord Septon's elbows, her swollen, dripping cunt spread open. Her master's oiled cock nudged against her entrance, the blunt crown parting her lower lips just enough to show the glistening pink.
Daenerys couldn't tear her eyes from Unella's face. The older woman's cheeks blazed crimson, sweat beading along her brow. Her expression was one of pure, rapturous joy. Her lips parted in a wide, trembling smile, eyes half-lidded in ecstasy.
She wondered, with a strange, twisting ache in her chest, how anything could feel so good as to paint such bliss.
"S-Septa Unella…" she whispered, barely audible over the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh. "How does it feel?"
Plap!
At her word, Lord Septon buried his entire phallus inside Unella's greedy cunt in one merciless plunge.
"Gaaaaah!"
Daenerys saw Unella's back arched off the table, breasts heaving, throat working around a shattered gasp. Yet that wide, delirious smile never faltered. It was as if the stretch, the sudden fullness, the raw invasion were the greatest gift the Seven could give.
Daenerys stared at the cock so thick it forced Unella's swollen petals to stretch thin around him, the delicate pink flesh clinging desperately, glistening with oil and juices.
Yet…
"Umh." A delicate hum slipped from Daenerys' throat. Her thighs squeezed together, liquid ache blooming between them.
"Blessing! Oh, the most heavenly sensations!" Septa Unella roared. "Yes, yes, pour it all in me! Oh, Angel of the Seven… bless me!"
Daenerys felt a pang of jealousy. She wanted that joy for herself, wanted to feel so utterly blessed that her body sang with it.
Then, Unella started to writhe, hips bucking wildly. A sudden, forceful gush erupted from her cunt. A clear, watery spray that arced across Lord Septon's abdomen and spattered the table in glistening droplets.
"Oooooooooh! The Maiden has heard my plea. Yes, she has… Lord Septon… yes, yes… bless me harder!" Unella moaned, lost in bliss.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
Daenerys' eyes just froze where Lord Septon's cock pistoned in and out, coated in creamy froth, dragging sticky strands of arousal with every pull. The wet squelch filled her ears, the heavy scent of musk and oil coating her tongue.
She bit her lower lip until it stung, then licked it slowly, unconsciously. Her right hand drifted down, palm pressing over the damp silk between her thighs, rubbing in tiny, helpless circles through the gown. She barely noticed she was doing it.
Creak!
The table groaned louder under the pounding.
Daenerys flicked her eyes upward again. Unella's fingers tangled in her own blonde hair, tugging as though to anchor herself. Her tits jolted with every thrust, nipples stiff. She glanced down at her own small breasts and felt another twist of envy. Was that why Lord Septon didn't bless her?
"Gaaaaah! Daenerys!"
"Yes, Master?!" she chirped, startled out of her own thoughts.
"Kneel, quick!"
Thud!
She dropped to her knees without hesitation, right there beside Lord Septon. Yet her eyes were stuck. She stared as Lord Septon slammed home one final time, hips grinding flush, balls drawn tight. She saw motion, the waves on his cock. She knew what he did.
But then, halfway, Lord Septon pulled out and turned to her. Creamy ropes still spurted from the tip as he turned, presenting his drenched, glistening cock directly to her face.
"Open your lips and accept the Maiden's first blessing, Daenerys. Today marks a new beginning."
Daenerys gulped, throat clicking, excited. She parted her pink lips wide, tongue peeking out instinctively. Eyes wide, she saw the Lord Septon step closer, resting the swollen head between them. Just the tip, never pushing deeper. He wrapped his fist around the base and stroked, fast.
Hot, thick jets splashed across her tongue, salty and musky, coating the roof of her mouth in heavy cream. Somewhere deep inside, she ached for him to fill her mouth completely, to bless her entirely.
Bronn wanted the same, but he held back, letting the last spurts drip onto her waiting tongue until his shaft started to soften.
"Swallow it and thank the Maiden."
Daenerys closed her eyes, then swallowed hard, the thick warmth sliding down her throat. She clasped her hands together purely, eyes drifting shut in sudden piety. "Oh Maiden above, I thank you for letting me feel your blessing."
Bronn stared down at her sweet, innocent face, and cursed himself inwardly for not painting those delicate features white instead. Soon, he promised himself. Very soon.
When her eyes fluttered open again, he felt it like a physical blow. Those violet orbs stared up at him, needy, pleading, begging without words for him to do the same things to her, to make her scream like Unella had.
"Master, when will you… bless me?"
Ah! Fuck, hard to control.
"Soon, Daenerys. Very soon. A holy rite it shall be. Only the two of us, locked away for seven days and seven nights, as the Seven intend. The Mother will watch over our need, and the Maiden will blush at what must be done."
He could have demanded a month, but he chose restraint. Daenerys was his anyway, after all.
Daenerys' face instantly lit up with a wide, radiant smile, excitement sparkling in her eyes. She got up and hugged him, jumping to wrap her arms around his neck, his cum-drenched cock damping her gown. She was lithe, so delicate that he couldn't help but put her in his arms.
"Now, help Septa Unella clean. Then we'll all sleep together."
"All of us?" Daenerys asked in delighted surprise.
Bronn chuckled, satisfied. Until tonight, he had forbidden her from his bed while he took other septas openly, letting her hear the moans through the walls. The jealousy in her tone now was delicious.
"Indeed. By the Seven's will. All of us."
####
The next morning, Bronn woke up hard. Daenerys hugging him the entire night didn't help. But it was the kind of warmth he liked. Unlike other septas, Daenerys was supposed to be a far greater part of his life going forward. He knew he was going to savor her deliciously during that planned week.
After cleaning up, getting dressed, and breaking the fast, he prepared to head out and see the city. The goal was to perform a few magical miracles that were easy to notice. Also, set up a free food kitchen.
Knock! Knock!
Just when he was getting ready, the door to his residence opened, and Ser Hasty stepped inside, stiff and noble like the holy knight he was.
"Lord Septon, the Captain General of the Golden Company, is here to meet you."
"..."
Bronn froze. Words of that shadowbinder, Quaithe, echoed in his mind. She had told him that this would happen. She had either seen the future or this was an elaborate scheme.
"Let him in."
Careful, Bronn went to the sitting area and took the seat of honor, waiting. Moments later, Ser Hasty brought in the commander of the Golden Company. The man wasn't that old, but he was portly with a big, round head. He didn't seem as mighty as the company he commanded.
"Your Holiness!"
The man took to one knee like a noble knight.
"I feel blessed that I was allowed this boon of seeing you. I am Harry Strickland, Captain-General of the Golden Company."
Kneeling? He follows the Faith?
Bronn gave a nod and, just to test the faith, raised a hand as a blessing and cast a bright light for a quick moment. "Rise, good man. Take a seat. What brings you to me?"
Harry Strickland was frozen for a long time, eyes wide, jaw hanging. That was the usual reaction to magic for most people. When he finally gathered himself, he almost dragged himself to the settee.
"By the Seven, you are every bit as saintly as the bards claim. Lord Septon, I wanted to welcome you properly, and to speak of a certain matter. Are you familiar with Hugor of the Hill?"
Bronn gave a quick nod. "Aye, who does not know him? First king of the Andals in Andalos, right here on this side of the Narrow Sea. The holy books name him oft enough. The Seven blessed the man themselves, the Father set the crown upon his brow."
Strickland nodded strongly. "That is true. Crowned by the Father, the Maiden brought forth a girl supple as a willow whom he took his first wife. The Mother made her fertile, and she bore him forty-four mighty sons, foretold by the Crone. The Warrior gave each strength, the Smith brought armor. Lord Septon, are you aware of the origins of the Golden Company?"
"I am. Ser Aegor Rivers, legitimized bastard of King Aegon, founded it. The company's core members are those who fought for House Blackfyre," Bronn said, trying to remember things correctly. "I'm sure you're not here for a history lesson from me, Ser Strickland."
"No, no, not at all." Strickland gave a small, hurried bow, clutching the cloth bag at his shoulder. "My men and I have followed your journey, every whisper of it, from the very hour you first stepped onto Essos soil. The company holds that your holy blessings are a clear sign from the Gods."
Maiden's cunt! What does he want?
"A sign for what, good Ser?"
"We… Years ago, many Captain Generals before my time, the Golden Company came upon something in the old lands they once called Andalos. And now, after my captains gave it their overwhelming vote of confidence, we have the honour to hand this over to its rightful owner."
Bronn watched in silence. Ser Hasty, behind him, was ready to defend with his sword. He watched Strickland fumble with the bag, as if nervous, his face sweating for some reason.
"Lord Septon… most holy Seven's Angel…" Strickland at last drew the item from his bag and submissively sank to both knees on the floor. He cradled it gently in both hands and lifted it high before him like an offering. "The Golden Company kneels to you, though my brothers are not present in this place. We beseech your blessing and your grace. Pray guide us poor men homeward… back to the promised land we long for, across the Narrow Sea."
Bronn was up on his feet by then, staring at the thing. It was dirty golden, clearly ancient. It had seven spikes, and each one had a star carved on it.
Is that the fucking…
"Once worn by Hugor of the Hill. Lord Septon, I humbly beseech you to take your rightful crown."
"..."
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