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nanaminsmoon · 10 months

Note

hey hru :) can i request connie x reader being both hyper sexual but reader chose celibacy so the sexual tension is always high and the make out a lot and connie can’t take it anymore

now how did you know that i was thinking about this like an hour before you suggested it?🤨 anyways i'm good and i hope you like it fren🤭

cw: horny!connie x celibateblackfem!reader, pnv, phone sex, masturbation (f+m), connie calls reader; 'ma', 'hermosa', 'my good girl', ('gorgeous), 'cuero' ('whore'), 'mételo, ma' ('put it in, ma'), 'despacio' ('slowly'),

wc: 3162 + lazily proofread bc i'm tired lol

your celibacy had started long before you met him. after wasting your time with too many useless men, you decided to focus on yourself which led you to the decision to try and avoid sex until you were dating someone for, at least, two years. as good of an idea as it seemed at first, you couldn’t help but grow to hate the hastening of your heart each time you had to tell a guy you were feeling about your somewhat ‘extreme’ decision. luckily you only had to do it once, before you met the man who could only be described as your worst match; connie springer.

connie had a reputation that proceeded him, and a long line of women who would do anything for him because the dick was just that good. the first time you had met connie, one of his friends had brought up his nickname, ’cuero’. and once you found out what it meant, you hid your shaky voice with a small laugh. but, contrary to what you had thought of him, connie didn’t really care about you being celibate because he just wanted to be with you. though it took a while to get used to, he made sure he respected your decision and adhered to all your boundaries surrounding physical affection.

but sweet gestures would be layered to hide the bitter truth. that being, connie had never been through anything as difficult as this in his life. his friends called him dramatic, but he told them that they would never understand how infuriating it was to be laid next to the prettiest girl he had ever seen, his borrowed shirt moving up her body, and her thong doing nothing to cover her skin. all of that meaning that the warmth of her ass would just be pressed up against him, as he squirmed and cursed under his breath. for the first time in years, connie’s cheeks and ears rouged at the heat radiating off a woman’s skin, growing at the place you two connected to engulf him whole. he felt like a teenager again in the worst way possible; once natural mannerisms became awkward, words stumbling over each other in a way that made him cringe. there were too many times he felt like you could read his lewd thoughts as he watched you perform mundane tasks like getting dressed. but you had never noticed the way he observed you, wondering what you’d look like clothed in lip marks, accessorised with hand shaped stamps on your ass cheeks.

unbeknownst to your boyfriend, he wasn’t the only one having a hard time. celibacy had been a fairly simple journey until the day you stumbled across a fine dominican speed bump. now you worried about catching him as he came out of the shower, towel loosely hanging from his hip bones as steaming droplets of water slid down the valleys on his toned abdomen. or the dreaded times where he’d wear those stupid fucking compression shirts, with those stupid grey sweats and nothing underneath. when ovulation week rolled around, everything your boyfriend did felt like a taunt to you; sleeping in just his boxers, smacking your ass, kissing you, even the way his tongue and fingers moved as he rolled his blunts had you crossing your legs and shifting in your seat.

it had gotten to the point where making out wasn’t cutting it anymore. and that’s how you and connie’s sex life began to escalate. one night, your hormones got the better of you so you called your man in need of relief. excitement was audible in his voice when he picked up the phone, but it would soon be substituted with a panic that would seep out of his pores, when all he could hear was you breathing heavily. but, something in his brain told him not to say anything so he remained quiet as he listened intently. that’s when he’d realise that those heavy breaths were laboured, and probably caused by whatever was buzzing in the background.

”i need you to put a baby in me, pa”, you had suddenly broken the silence, and a deep breath left connie’s mouth. he’d have to shift in his seat to calm himself down, but it’d do absolutely nothing.

”you can’t say shit like that, hermosa.”, he replied through clenched teeth. luckily he had just sold to his last client of the day, so he’d stay on the phone as he drove into an empty car park. within seconds, his dick would be in his hand and his own breaths would harmonise with yours over the phone as he fucked into his hand, and talked you through your nut.

prior to that day, the furthest you had gone was kissing. whether it be in his car, in bed, on the couch when you’re meant to be watching a movie, or even when connie would join you in the shower to kiss on the wet skin on your neck, you had never crossed that line. it was definitely difficult when he’d be stood right behind you, his bare dick touching your cheeks and all, but you’d always keep it together. that was until the day you were sat on his couch, getting ready to watch a tv show together. everything was fine, until connie went to wrap a blanket around you. it was something he had done many times before, but this time was different; due to your proximity, his breath was going straight into your ear, and it’d grow uneasy as you maintained eye contact. the sound of his breath picking up was reminiscent of the times you’d fucked over the phone, and the salacious memories were making your eyes gloss over. connie could read you like a book; he wouldn’t even reach the second page before his hand would be on your thigh. it’d linger on the warm skin before it’d move up your shorts, while he connected his lips with the skin on your neck.

when he finally did pull back, connie would place his lips on yours in a kiss that was sweet…until it wasn’t. its romantic feel would fade out as soon as he heard you moan when he put his tongue in your mouth. and, once he felt your hand so high up on his thigh that it was practically touching his dick, he would throw away all regard for where his hands were—they’d start grabbing anything they could. discernment told connie to pull away, because your lips were shooing the blood in his head to the place between his legs. yet, it’d all go ignored. instead he’d pull you onto his lap and smile against your mouth when you just let him. the wetness between your legs would rub against the hard length about to break through his boxers as your hips moved on top of it. all that could be heard in that room was heavy breathing, quiet moans, and the sound of connie’s hands occasionally landing on your skin to smack your cheeks when he got bored of massaging them.

the feeling of your hands on his nape, and running through his short buzzcut, travelled throughout connie’s body to will his hands to pull you down onto his bulge as he began chasing any form of relief from you. still lost in how bad you wanted him, your hips would subconsciously help connie by moving faster. and it wouldn’t be until he pulled away from your lips to lean his head back on the couch that you’d be alerted of your actions. they’d immediately cease, and connie wouldn’t get what was happening so he’d be kissing on your neck,

”it feels so good, ma, just keep movin’ on me”. that request would be met with you moving yourself from him completely. judging by the pensive look on your face, connie knew exactly what had happened and remorse began to wash over the arousal he had once felt. soon his hands would wipe his face, before he placed one on your knee.

”i’m sorry, y/n.”, he quietly apologised, ”i…i don’t know what the fuck happened. i guess i just lost myself”, he picked your hand up, and kissed your knuckles repeatedly. of course it wasn’t just him, you should’ve known better too, so you shook your head and pulled him in for a hug.

”it’s fine. i fucked up too”, you chortled before pulling him back and awkwardly going back to watching whatever show you had picked.

and that should’ve been the end of it. but the feeling he had formed in your clit had yet to subside. so when you moved to his bed, later that evening, you decided it was about time you gave him what you both wanted. connie leant against the head board, with you cuddled up by his side and, with your each and every movement, it was clear to see that he was still sensitive after what happened earlier. using that to your advantage, you’d lay your hand on his thigh and, as soon as that contact was made, connie’s eyes would dart to you. just as he was about to open his mouth and question your actions, you got up and climbed onto him. curiosity told him to move his parted lips, but intrigue kept them still as he watched you move closer to his neck. small pecks on his skin would increase in length, as well as intensity, and a few marks would decorate his neck, before you moved on to kiss and suck at his earlobe. that, mixed with the way your hips started moving again, brought back the memories of what had unfolded on his couch a few hours ago.

”y/n”, connie voiced, head still tilted to give you better access to his neck and ear, ”what about…?”, the end of that sentence was unfinished for two reasons; connie didn’t like bringing it up, and he was just too horny to think of the word.

”fuck it.”, you answered curtly, “i just need you so bad, pa”, connie scoffed at you, yet he still wouldn’t move from his position, he’d just place his hands on your hips.

”you sure?”, his eyes opened to look at you, and they’d see you nod softly before you stopped what you were doing.

”i mean, if you don’t want to then we can just—”, you began to taunt your boyfriend, but he’d cut you off.

”fuck that”, is all he said, before he’d flip your positions so you were laying beneath him, and he was stripping your body of anything covering it.

connie had seen you naked many times during the 7 months you had been together, but you would’ve never guessed with the way his eyes were darting all over the place, not sure what to do with themselves. because they were seeing you in a way they had only ever dreamed of—dreams that would end in embarrassment as connie trudged to change out of the moist fabric covering his lower half. but now that you were in front of him, wanting what he did, he would have to take a second to think. then, once he knew what he wanted, connie would move from the bed to rummage through one of your bags. confusion would scrunch your eyebrows for a second until connie returned to your line of vision with your vibrator in his hand. cockiness would stretch his lips into a smirk at the discovery that you were unaware of him seeing it when you were looking for your socks earlier. thinking of all the possible things he wanted to do with it pulled you out of the present moment until the droning sound of the toy brought you back. in the time you had been daydreaming, connie had walked to the side of the bed and when he handed it to you, you’d look up at him to say ”really?”. he’d chuckle as he nodded,

”i need to see what i’ve been hearing for so long”, he explained, and your eyes rolled before they eyed the device as if you’d never seen it before. though you wanted connie, you couldn’t refute the fact that the prolonged buzzing noise exacerbated the wetness between your legs. so you’d spread them, and the way you acted without instruction widened connie’s eyes. they’d stay that way as you used the wand to tease your clit, moaning his name as if he were the cause for the way your thighs were already starting to tremble. and connie’d just watch you; eyes fluttering shut, as you leaned on the pillows and keened his name. he wouldn’t even realise that he was holding his breath until he let out a heavy sigh.

”mételo, ma“, he ordered gently, as he moved a chair and put it in front of the bed. his dick would be in his hand as he watched you do as he said. the calls that he had began to yearn for at the end of every day seemed meaningless in comparison to the display before his eyes; his beautiful girlfriend sprawled out in front of him, legs shaking at a toy she wished was him instead, and a growing patch of wetness on the bed covers underneath her.

”despacio”, connie’s strained voice managed to reach your ears, and you nodded, sliding the toy in you slower to give connie a better view of the slight stretch.

so lost in it all, your eyes hadn’t opened since the toy had touched you—your head had been on the pillows below you, as your back arched off the now wet bed. you’d only pry your drowsy lids open when you felt connie’s hands on yours, pulling the toy out of you, licking a strip of the wetness on it, before throwing it on the bed. he wouldn’t even bother to kiss you as he knelt on the bed, his thumb moving over his raging tip as he positioned himself between your legs. pink, and needing to touch the spot inside you that he knew would drive you crazy, connie’s tip would be rubbed in between your folds to collect as much of your arousal as it could. and, for the first time in too long, connie’s ego would awaken at the sound of the gorgeous woman whining underneath him, toes wiggling aggressively as he teased you. after a while, it started to look like connie was teasing himself; though he had literally dreamt of this moment, he wasn’t rushed. instead, he wanted to take his time and make you feel so good that you would beg him to fuck you every single second of every single day to make up for lost time.

when his tip finally did enter you, it’d still there for a second. it was during that second that you started wondering if you could actually take connie. you knew that he was big, but the thought of actually having to deal with that stretch had always been pushed to the back of your mind. luckily for you, he’d push the rest of his dick into you very slowly. and, about quarter of the way inside you, his forehead would be on yours—already sweaty, and starting to wrinkle in the middle. romance would reintegrate itself during that one second, because connie would connect your lips again, allowing his tongue to dance with yours in a messy kiss that would spur his hips to move again. and, as soon as the sound of his balls smacking against your ass registered in your mind, you’d intertwine your hands at his nape, keeping your lips attached to hide the sound of your moans. connie’d quickly catch onto what you were doing, and pull back from you to shake his head,

”nah, ma, i’ve been waitin’ on this f’r too damn long. let me hear ya.”

connie wouldn’t need to ask you twice because, after that, you gave him exactly what he wanted. and, other than fawning over the way you were cussing using the spanish you had learnt from him, connie was losing his damn mind. this was your first time fucking, and he honestly felt like it was his first time ever having sex because of how hypersensitive his dick was. he could feel every single micro spasm of your walls, and when they intensified to the point where it was difficult to ignore the twitching of his balls as you continuously clenched around him, he knew you were close.

”fuck, ma, how you been keeping this from me?”, he asked at you and you’d mumble out a nonsensical response. all you could focus on was the fact that your release was at the tip of your curling fingers, so everything else was just fading into the background,

”’mm so closee, p-pa, p-pleasee”, you pleaded, and connie pressed your legs against your chest as he fucked into you with more haste.

”need you to promise to never keep my pussy from me ever again”, he demanded through gritted teeth, and you nodded desperately at him, ”’f you wanna cum then you gon’ have to speak t’me, ma”, he kissed his teeth, and you would try your best to gather yourself to start speaking.

”i p-promise i prom-mise pppromise”, you stuttered out, and connie’s smile warmed you from above.

”that’s my good girl”, between the praise, and connie’s dick abusing your cervix, it wouldn’t be long before pleasured tears left your closing eyes as you came around him. and, being a retired man-whore, connie thought he could take it, but he really couldn’t; as soon as you started tightening around him, his eyes would shut firmly as he struggled to move in and out of you.

”shit.”, he whispered, head bowed.

his intentions to make you yearn for his dick wouldn’t be neglected. they’d quickly come into fruition because, even as he filled you with load after load and fucked you in every position his filthy mind could think of, you would still beg for more of him. in the time space of a few hours, you two had gone from trying not to give into each other, to refusing to not be connected in a way that made you both sweat. most of connie felt satisfied with himself, yet a small part feared the monster he had created.

#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #connie springer x black reader #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #dominican connie #aot connie #connie smut #connie x you

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arcielee · 1 year

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Ask Me Anything

Summary: Aemond asks his professor some questions. Paring: Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 3162 Warnings: The smutty smut you all wanted, fingering, p in v. Author’s Note: Here is part 2, you can read part 1 Hazy Shades of Spring ♥ This was the poll winner and I had to make it into 2 parts. Also, I am also celebrating that I have over 400 followers now! Thank you all so much for reading, it fills me with joy. A shoutout to my muse and editor @f4ll-for-you thank you for your unique perspective and helping me become a better writer! ♥ Also, I got this finished on Ewan’s birthday? Coincidence? Yes, absolutely. My planning and scheduling is terrible. Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @nina2697 @skikikikiikhhjuuh @itsabby15 @greenowlfactif @padfooteyes @danika1994 (If there is a strikethrough, it would not allow me to tag you.)

Mrs. Lannister had been kind enough to share that even though you ended your office hours early on Fridays, you would often remain to finish the lesson plan for the next week. “She’s the only one who does this,” she continued her overshare, batting her lashes. “The rest of the faculty is already gone for the day…even I’m about to leave!”

Aemond returned a warm smile that was close lipped and allowed his cheeks to dimple, noting the faintest hint of rose to her complexion when he thanked her. His gait was languid with his fluid stride to follow the hallway that snaked through the building and back to where he already knew your office would be.

He saw the glint of your name on the door plaque and it seemed closed; he stopped and rapped his knuckles on the wood, the action pushing it slightly ajar and allowing him to step in.

“How may I help you?” You had asked without bothering to look up. Your laptop was open and a stack of papers were tidy on the side, but your focus remained on the one in front of you.

Aemond thought to when his brother first enrolled in your business law course, his arrogance more obnoxious than usual when he came home to say, “My professor is hot and I am definitely fucking my way to an A.”

Aemond did not even acknowledge the cocksure idiocracy he spewed and remained silent when Aegon would return with weekly updates before he inevitably begged their grandfather for a suitable donation to help him pass your class. He remembered being intrigued by the professor who, despite the board’s pressure, then only gave Aegon a barely passing grade.

Aegon was furious and Aemond only said: “You could always attempt studying,” with his eyebrow cocked.

His brother moaned. “Wait until you have to deal with her.”

When Aemond entered the classroom, he remembered you were bold with your gaze and without the hint of fear he often met with other professors. Aegon had once described you as a librarian in need of a good railing, but Aemond liked your tasteful, almost bookworm look, how your hair would be twisted back and the glasses you wore during lectures.

He was dutiful with his classes, but with yours he found himself pressing for more; he would push for answers, often getting a rise from his classmates with his constant disputation, but you were unfazed by it, taking the time to pick apart any argument in your eloquent way and even admitting when he was correct with his verdict. Aemond would wait after the room emptied to approach your desk, pleasantries always exchanged and he liked your smile when you once said, “Are you sure you’re only twenty-two?”

“Age is only a number,” he replied and relished in the blush that dusted your cheeks.

Aemond could admit to himself he had a slight crush, but he did not understand the extent of it until the semester ended, until that Friday night.

With Aegon doing a “study-abroad” in Essos, it was put on Aemond to help with the new restaurant. His uncle had been annoying throughout the set-up, using Aemond for menial micromanaging, and he was relieved with the grand opening, just to be rid of the role of Daemon’s tedious shadow.

Everything is perfect, though, he thought during his rounds, walking the grand staircase towards the bar when he noticed your backside.

Aemond did not immediately recognize you. For one, your hair was down, your thick main smoothed into a cascade of curls instead of the usual bun or braid your locks would be in. Also, the dress you wore fit to your curves in a way that looked like you had been poured into the garment, not your usual comfort uniform of a top, cardigan, and jeans.

He was enamored by the curve of your back, how you were curled over the bartop and your attention focused on something, unaware of the few patrons that lingered with the hopes to draw your attention, before grabbing their drinks and moving on. It was the moment you paused to grab your glass of wine that he recognized your profile.

He had to talk to you.

“Professor?”

Your hesitation was understandable, but eventually you fell into the ebb and flow of the comfortable conversations he would get moments of during your office hours. His heart jumped when you offered the excuse to take you out on the balcony. He was enamored with the way you held yourself, the smile on your lips and how he never truly noticed the beauty of your eyes or how your lashes framed them.

Aemond noted the moments you would hem for words, as if it was an internal debate to say one thing before you would give your genuine thoughts and your upfront honesty was something he welcomed. He noticed the flush to your cheeks and nose, perhaps from the bit of cold in the night air mixed with your passion for science fiction, which he had not expected, and that was the moment he stepped in to kiss you.

You seemed to meld against him with a soft familiarity to his touch. He loved how your expression brightened when he took your hand and how you moved to keep with his strides towards the car he called for. Aemond waited with bated breath when you paused at the car door, watching when you leaned forward and it exaggerated the curves your dress complemented. He would have followed you to the ends of the earth, but you only asked him to come upstairs.

The next morning, Aemond woke with your curled so perfectly against his chest, his silver hair between your fingertips. He did not move because he did not want to wake you and allow this tranquil moment to end. You were cute when your eyes fluttered open to take in your surroundings and he handed you your glasses.

You seemed to not want him to leave and he stayed until Sunday. Even then you hesitated to let him go and he made sure to follow up with you, just a simple text that thanked you for the lovely weekend. He followed to ask when you would be available and was surprised when he did not get even an emoji for a response.

Aemond waited before sending another text, but when he saw he had been left on read, he let it be. Maybe you thought the weekend was a mistake? Perhaps you had not enjoyed yourself like he assumed you had?

The abrupt end confused him, until he received an alert from Amazon, suggesting a new book release from an author he made sure to follow.

Your pseudonym, an anagram of your first and last name.

He read Hazy Shades of Spring in one sitting and knew he had to see you again.

“Hello, professor,” Aemond stepped into your office. “If you have a moment, I came to seek out your expertise on a matter.”

Your expression was stunned, your lips parted for a moment and your cheeks rosy from his severe gaze, his one sapphire eye glinting in the office light. “Yes, Aemond, hello,” you struggled for the greeting. “Please, sit down. How may I help you?”

There was the probability of running into him on campus, but you had not expected for him to come directly to your office. Your eyes could not help but drink in his lithe figure, the grace of his movements as he seated himself in the chair across from your desk. His expression would have been stoic except for the slight upwards curl of his lips, amused by your flustered state.

“I had some questions in regards to one's penumbra rights,” he began, watchful of your reaction with his deliberate words. “I think I could be a victim of unwarranted appropriation and I wonder how that would hold in the court of law?”

You could feel the blood drain from your face and your tongue pressed against your bottom lip, your teeth biting as you brought it forward to try and relax your jaw. The gesture was subtle with your attempt to calm your nerves, but it was not missed from his intense gaze.

Aemond fucking smirked.

Your eyes narrowed on him. “You would need undeniable proof of tort liability,” you began, your voice hoarse with your reply and you cleared your throat before continuing. “It would need to be undeniable that your likeness had been used without consent.”

There was a pregnant pause; you refused to ask what he may or may not have and you watched the dimples line his cheeks with his knowing smile. “I believe I do have proof,” he finally said, reaching into his jean’s pockets and retrieving his phone. “It’s an ebook that was just released.”

Oh, fuck.

You force your features to relax and watch his screen light up, filled with text. “His mien is breathtaking, the sharp contours of his features-”

“That description could be used for any protagonist worth noting,” your voice interrupts, almost shrill; you find yourself standing on your side of the desk, your hands pressed on top to anchor you.

“Perhaps,” he replied, his eye flitted to you for a moment. Your breath came out slow through your parted lips, watching as he looked back at the screen and continued to read. “The severity of his gaze was offset by the sapphire stone-”

Your moves are quick and clumsy, coming around the desk and clasping your hands over his; your cheeks are flushed and you are bold with your stare. “Aemond,” you finally find your voice. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

There is a moment that his expression hardens, a flash of an emotion that is wiped away and instead his perpetual smirk returns to play at his lips. He pulled his hands away, pushing to stand while tucking his phone into his pocket.

You fall back as he takes a step towards you, his silver hair spilling forward when he leans forward to hold you attention. “I actually came for clarity,” his eye flits to your lips and he purses his own for a moment. “I had thought we had a lovely weekend together, but every reach out I attempted since had been left on read.”

“Aemond,” you say his name with your exhale, breaking away and looking at the floor.

His head tilts with a slight hum as he looks over your stance; your bottom is pressed to the edge of the desk and your arms stiff at your sides, with a hold on the profile that has your knuckles white with your grip, like you could not trust your idle hands.

“I had thought,” he softened his tone. “I thought I had done something to offend you, or perhaps… you did not enjoy yourself, until…” you looked up and saw the glimmer of hope that danced through the aloof façade of Aemond Targaryen. He didn’t finish the thought and instead said, “I also came here because I want to take you on a proper date, to go to an agreed location, where I will be punctual and we will have dinner together.”

You cannot form words; your face is burning and you make a noise of disbelief, a mixture of a gasp with an almost laugh that stops in your throat by the touch of his warm palm to cup your cheek. His hold keeps you from looking away again, his stare intense. “I am telling you what I want, why I came here.” He leaned forward until the tip of his nose touched yours, the breath of his words fans your jawline and you can feel the ripple of goosebumps all over. “But if you are not interested, tell me now and I will stop. I will leave you alone.”

You did not want him to leave you alone.

In fact, that weekend was on an endless loop in your mind. After he left, you began to write, fervently, and with every keystroke, you poured the intimate, delicious details into a transcript, hoping that when you sent it in, it would empty your mind of him.

It did not and Aemond consumed your thoughts. You remembered the ease of conversation, the comfort of his presence, and how you craved his touch, how alive you felt pinned under his steady gaze.

Now he was in your office and his steady gaze was burning; you bit your bottom lip, your fervor basked in the flame of his stare, savoring the warmth that he exuded. His scent washed over you, just his proximity made your skin feel aflame.

The moment ends when Aemond relaxes his stance, falling back a step, and only then did you react. Your hand touches the junction of his shoulder to his throat, your fingers curling around the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours. He welcomes your mouth with a lusty frenzy and you moan when you feel his tongue move to taste your mouth.

He closes in on you, his thigh pushing your legs apart and his hand on your jaw to tilt your head, moving to ghost his lips on the column of your neck until they reach your ear. “I love that you are a woman of action,” his husky tone and words tickle your skin. “But, remember, I require verbal consent.”

Your hands move to his jawline, your right hand hovering and careful to not quite touch. “Yes, Aemond, please,” you beg him, your eyes wide. “I wanted to reply but I…”

He interrupts your words with another kiss and he is hungry to taste you again. Your arm wraps around his neck and the other hand is pressed against his solid chest. His hands move to follow the curves of your hips and wrap around to cup below your ass, bringing you flush against him.

Your hands drop to unbutton your jeans and you feel his warm palms slip into the waistband of both, pulling your underwear as he peels you bare. He presses against you, lifting to set you on the desk edge before kneeling in front of you and unlacing each Converse shoe. Aemond sets them aside and returns to grab the fabric to pull it off; you burn from his stare and he leans to kiss the inside of your knee, his lips trailing your thighs and his hand pulling himself to stand again.

You watch him bring two slender fingers to his mouth and wet them with his tongue, before they dip between your thighs. A gasp spills from your kiss-swollen lips when he touches you with familiarity, following the crease of your wet folds and the slow curl of his finger inside you.

He watches your response, the arc of your back with the rub of his fingertips in your velvet walls until you mewl his name. Aemond hums, a smile to his lips, and adds a second finger, continuing the same come hither motion to that same sweet spot. His wrist shifts, allowing his thumb to press against the nub above with ample pressure and you moan loudly to his touch. Aemond continues his ministrations until he feels you clenching; there is a lewd sound of your wet heat and how his fingers continue to fuck you through your climax, until you whimper from the overstimulation.

You look at him through lidded eyes, still on the curtails of your release; he licks his fingers clean with a grin, his gaze narrowing on you. “Is it better than the book?”

Your look hardens and you push from the desk, desperate to pull his shirt over his head and the fall of his silver tresses tickle your face; your cardigan falls to the ground, your fitted shirt follows. He is still smug when you place your hands on his chest and push for him to fall back into the chair, your touch falling to unbutton his jeans.

Aemond lifts his hips to bring it down enough, his hand wrapping around the base of his member. Your mouth waters at the sight and you step to straddle the chair, lowering yourself so he can line with your entrance before you sink further.

You moan as he fills your velvet walls and he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into your neck and allowing you a moment to adjust to his size. With slow breaths, your nails bite into his shoulders and you press onto the balls of your feet to rise and lower onto his length.

There is a soft echo in the office with the lewd noises, the suction of your cunt to take him in and your wanton moans when he begins to thrust upwards, meeting your motion. He presses his lips against your ear with the hot whisper, “Stop clenching or I won’t last.”

You almost purr from the sensation, turning your head to find his lips. “You’re fine,” your voice is breathless. “I’m on the pill.”

He stills and you look to see his pupil blown, taking you in; without a word, his hands grip into the soft flesh of your ass and he moves to lift you. You squeak your surprise, your legs quick to wrap his waist as he takes a step towards the desk; the polish wood is cool to the touch when he sets you down, reaching behind you to clear away the clutter and laying you back on the desktop, positioning you until you are nearly folded in half.

This new angle has you a mewling mess of tears, the flutter of your cunt encourages his fingers to bruise into your hips with a brutal pace until you see stars.

You can feel the twitch of his cock and a low, guttural groan from the back of his throat with his peak. Aemond leans forward, his forehead damp and pressed to yours, his breath warm with his exhale until it evens again.

He looks and notices a box of kleenex, reaching for it and is careful to clean the mess. You sit up, still feeling the trough of the waves of your release tingling over, your hand moving to pull the hair tie and your fingers comb out the braid.

Aemond rightens his jeans, but does not button them; instead, he looks at you, another hum as he reaches to cup your face, bringing his lips to your forehead and then tilting your head back to find your lips. You stare at him a moment, warm from his touch and also shy at the realization you are still very much naked.

“What now?” You ask, pushing to stand.

He pulls you against his bare chest and your heart flutters from his warmth. “Depends,” he murmurs and you pull back to look up at him. “Which restaurant did you want to go to?”

#ask me anything #part 2 #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female!reader #here is the smut you all wanted #my tumblr kindred spirits #thanks for reading #♥

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