From Storms to Thrones (Part 1)

When we finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, I kept my forehead pressed to hers, my heart racing in my chest. Rhaenyra's eyes were half-lidded, her breath coming in soft, ragged gasps as she looked at me with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

My entire body was acutely aware of her—of the heat radiating from her skin, of the soft, shallow breaths that brushed against my lips, of the way her fingers trembled ever so slightly as they held onto me.

Rhaenyra's gaze held steady, never wavering, never drifting from mine. The intensity in her eyes was enough to make me feel both exposed and cherished, a raw, electric connection sparking between us. The emotions in her expression were a potent mix of vulnerability and strength, making my heart tighten with something far deeper than mere attraction.

She leaned in once more, her lips barely brushing against mine in a feather-light kiss that sent a shiver racing down my spine. There was a hesitance to her touch, a momentary pause, as if she was holding back, afraid to cross a line that neither of us could ever return from. But I didn't want hesitation, didn't want restraint. I wanted her—without limits, without boundaries.

I deepened the kiss, my hands sliding up her arms to cradle her face, pulling her closer. And that was all the encouragement she needed.

Rhaenyra surged forward, her lips capturing mine with a fierce hunger, her tongue delving into my mouth with a passion that left me breathless. The kiss was all-consuming, devouring me from the inside out. Her hands grew more assertive, one arm wrapping firmly around my waist as she pulled me from my seated position and into her body, our skin sliding together under the water.

The sudden movement sent waves crashing around us, the sound mingling with the squeak of surprise that was quickly swallowed by Rhaenyra's demanding mouth. I groaned into the kiss as I felt her naked body press against mine, her curves fitting against me perfectly. Her hold was unyielding, one arm securing me to her, while her other hand tangled in my hair at the nape of my neck, pulling hard enough to send a tremor of need shooting through me.

She was like the water—intense, pushing me to the edge without ever truly hurting me—and just like with the heat of the pool, I wanted to prove I could handle it, to rise to the challenge she presented. My hands roamed her back, feeling the taut muscles beneath her skin, the strength that had always been there but was now fully unleashed, focused solely on me.

I broke the kiss just long enough to catch my breath, our foreheads resting against each other as the world around us seemed to fade away. There was nothing but the warmth of her body, the fire in her eyes, and the overwhelming connection that pulsed between us, urging us closer, deeper.

Rhaenyra didn't wait for me to recover fully; she captured my lips again, her kiss even more intense, more demanding, as if she couldn't get enough. I melted into her, every touch, every movement, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. The water lapped at us, a gentle contrast to the fierce heat building between us, and I knew, in this moment, there was no going back.

She was my queen, my fire, and I was more than ready to burn for her.

Rhaenyra's grip tightened on my hair, and with a fluid, dominant motion, she tilted my head to the side, exposing the length of my neck to her. The air around us seemed to thicken, charged with anticipation, as her lips ghosted over the sensitive skin, hovering just above the spot where the hickey she had left three nights ago was beginning to heal.

I barely had a moment to brace myself before she descended, her mouth latching onto the bruised flesh with a possessive hunger that made my knees go weak. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pure heat that shot through my body, setting my nerves on fire. Her teeth grazed the tender spot, sending a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't suppress the gasp that escaped my lips, the sound echoing in the steamy chamber.