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[versigny]

The Lord's Kiss, they call it.

Margaery's heard of it in her circles of gossip, amidst the sweet giggles of her handmaidens, and she only just realizes that it's what Jon intends to do when he's already made his way down the length of her body, the hot wash of his breath over her entrance making her shudder before he dives right in.

Oh, she moans out in a feverish haze, muscles tensing instinctively as she's initially torn between shying away and pressing herself forward for more. "Jon-!" Her fingers thread through his hair, an instinctive gesture that matches the greedy thrust of her hips against his mouth.

The rough tickle of his beard against her delicate skin, even the bump of his nose and the contours of his face that occasionally press against her, even the mere sight of him between her legs - all of it is a constant reminder that he finds this equally pleasurable to give. Every smooth lick of his tongue will find her even wetter than the last, with Margaery squirming to regain some semblance of control even as it grows more and more impossible. "Oh, Jon, please-"

[mywatchhasended]

Gripping her hip with one hand, Jon brings the other between her legs as well, slipping a fingertip betwixt the folds as his tongue focuses on the sensitive pearl at their apex. The wetter she grows, the deeper his finger probes, curling against her inner walls and drawing forth more of that delicious wetness. The sound of her pleasure drives him wild, but he doesn't stop to answer her with words; simply moaning against her heated flesh as he seeks to strip away the last threads of her ladylike comportment and make her wild as well.

[versigny]

Even the simple act of his heavy hand on her hip, preventing her from moving as freely as she'd like, makes Margaery feel like a live wire; every abrupt gasp, every twitch of her muscles, every hard shudder is from Jon playing her body so much better than she could have ever imagined. Even his groan, deep as it is, sends vibrations through her core and gets her whimpering out sharply in turn, feverishly sensitive from the overwhelming sensation of it all until she's pushed enough.

When Margaery comes, it's with an unrestrained cry of Jon's name, both hands grasping and pulling at the sheets, hips canted up and muscles completely taut, head thrown back on the bed as pleasure courses through her with a savagery she's never felt.

[mywatchhasended]

He stays with her, nuzzling and stroking until her body stills; thrilling at the sound of his name on her lips. When she relaxes again, he lifts his head, licking the taste of her from his lips and moving upward to kiss her once more. He knows little of what other lords enjoy in their marriages, but he takes great satisfaction in knowing he has pleased his wife, and--he hopes--given her a reason to remember their wedding night with fondness.

"How do you feel?"

[versigny]

How does she feel?

Margaery is barely able to catch her breath before she's already reaching for Jon once more, arms weak as they wrap around him in a welcoming embrace. "I feel..." Her eyes flutter but remain glazed, a testament to how much he's completely devastated her - in the best way possible. "Wonderful." A soft laugh begins building up as she finishes speaking, bubbling up from deep inside as she nips playfully at his lips and comes away with the taste of her.

"Would you like for me to return the favor, Jon? It does not seem fair for me to simply lay back and accept your affections without lifting a finger to serve you."

[mywatchhasended]

Jon holds her close, and smiles, relishing the sound of her laugh. "If that is what you want, I would hardly refuse," he answers with a chuckle, "But neither would I refuse to serve my queen on her own wedding night."

After all, what use was a king who couldn't even please his own wife?