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Moon of My Life, I have a present for you.	By : Sacire Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 20717 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones, Khal Drogo, or Daenerys. I also won't accept money for this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Present
- 1
"Moon of My Life, I have a present for you" -- a deep voice calls out -- as a strong, mountainous man -- with a large grin on his face -- enters the tent. You follow him inside -- hiding your naked body behind his large frame.
You survey the small space and immediately notice the bed in the corner and the whip on the floor. You then spot three enormous eggs resting on a table of coals. They are even more beautiful than the rumors described.
A silver eyebrow arches in curiosity. "Oh? What is it, My Sun and Stars?"
Khal Drogo steps aside and presents you to Daenerys. When you see that she is naked too, your face turns bright red, and you shiver. As she steps towards you, your heart begins to race, and you can feel the redness spreading from your cheeks to your neck and ears.
Her violet eyes shine brightly as she smiles at you -- her long, silver hair shifting with each step. She looks deeply into your eyes and says -- "You are beautiful -- what is your name? And where are you from?"
You can hardly breathe, but you somehow manage to stutter -- "I'd rather not say. But I have travelled a very long way -- to" -- you hesitate for a moment -- "to pleasure you."
"I see." -- There is a look of concern on her face. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"More than anything!" -- You reply -- perhaps a little too enthusiastically.
With that, she grins and turns away from you to face Khal Drogo -- her silver hair glistening in the moonlight -- his dark eyes reflecting her lust. "Thank you" -- she says -- as they begin to kiss each other -- with a rough passion -- his strong hands circling her bottom -- her delicate fingers exploring the depths of his hair -- your gaze fixed on their interlocking lips and undulating hips.
She breaks away from him for a moment to glance back at you and say -- "Well, what are you waiting for?" You quickly look away -- feeling awkward and embarrassed. You are sweating and -- at the same time -- frozen. You are not worthy of her gaze. "Are you nervous?" -- she asks softly.
"No." -- You say -- with your arms crossed in front of your chest. Your blush -- and the hitch in your voice -- betray your lie.
"Good" -- she says -- her eyebrows raised in disbelief -- "Then you should come join us." She smirks and turns back to Khal Drogo.
You approach her from behind -- as they kiss -- pressing your chest and belly against her back -- kissing her neck and shoulder -- feeling her pulse rise against your lips -- breathing heavy across her ear -- peering down at the space between their oscillating bodies -- rhythmically rubbing against each other -- to the beat of the bells on his braid. Your fear dissolves with each move of her body against yours.
You watch a trickle of sweat form between her breasts -- and slide along her curves -- collecting in the crevices between his abs. One of your hands tugs softly on his dark thick hair -- pulling him closer to her -- your other hand exploring that gap between them -- feeling every reachable curve -- massaging the parts of her chest not pressed against his -- wandering down -- to that damp patch of silver hair -- right above her clit -- hearing her gasp -- circling it -- pressing down -- and hearing her moan into his mouth.
"My Sun and Stars" -- she says -- looking into his eyes -- her voice noticeably deeper and needier than how it had been when she first asked your name.
"Do you like your present?" -- he asks with a knowing smile.
In response, she sighs and rocks her hips into yours. He mimics her movements -- in sync with her rhythm -- her hands digging into his back -- near his shoulders -- his hands on your lower back -- sneaking down to your bottom -- squeezing you -- pulling you closer -- the pressure building -- everywhere -- in everyone -- the smells of her and your arousal -- impossible the differentiate -- fusing together -- intoxicating -- the dampening hair on his head beneath your sweating palm -- her dampening hair -- down there -- in between the fingers of your other hand -- everyone dancing together -- as the three of you breathe -- exerting pressure in waves -- as your ribs take turns expanding into each other.
She is so wet -- so warm -- so swollen -- and so close to coming. But it is too early. You remove your hand from between her legs -- and she immediately grinds against him -- desperate for friction. Your hand is dripping. He licks his lips as he watches you lick your fingers. She tastes sweet -- with a hint of salt. You want more. No -- you need more.
You push him backwards a few steps. You spin her around -- her pupils dilating -- her cheeks reddening. The intensity of her gaze -- and the desire that it exudes -- is almost too much for your pulse to handle -- you feel her lips with your thumbs, and she closes her eyes. You slide your hands behind her neck and press your lips into hers -- so soft and juicy. You gently tug on her lower lip with your teeth, and you feel her smile against your mouth. She opens hers for your tongue, and you get lost in its fruitiness -- playing games with her tongue -- hardly noticing his body circling behind yours.
Your hands are traversing her back -- and so are his -- four hands independently exploring the same smooth curves -- creeping one finger at a time -- closer to her center ridge -- measuring the squishiness of her skin with each step of your fingers -- gliding further down her spine -- finally reaching her soft plump bottom -- pulling her against your pelvis -- feeling him grind against your own ass -- the tip of his dick nudging into your lower back -- your hips debating which body you want more.
As the two of you kiss -- her hands squeeze his triceps -- feeling the strength of his arms as he holds you both. You lift his hands from her back and lead them to your pelvis. You need him to pull you closer, and he obliges -- his large rough fingers digging into the bottom of your belly. He groans as he grinds against you. You sigh as the tips of her fingers slide down the sides of your body.
"Khaleesi -- please." -- you whisper into her ear before moving your mouth to her neck. She slides her thigh between your legs, and you moan -- biting into her neck. She yelps, and then giggles -- her body jiggling against yours -- as your hardened nipples bounce past each other.
She takes a step back, and the three of you separate. You look at the two of them -- their bodies heaving -- their heavy-lidded eyes dark and lustful. You have trouble looking away from his glistening, erect member. Your body is aching for it.
Daenerys clears her throat, and you jerk up your head -- "How long are you here for?"
Without hesitation, you respond -- "As long as you need me -- I am yours, Khaleesi." And you mean it with all of your heart -- or at least with the part of you that is currently throbbing.
"Excellent." -- she says with a grin -- as she glances first towards the bed -- and then towards the whip on the floor -- and you can tell that she is plotting something -- and your entire body yearns for it -- whatever it might be.
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Moon of My Life, I have a present for you.