What am I doing? I should have a word with His Grace. Catelyn didn't sleep that entire night. Her mind constantly raced with thoughts. Her breath was faintly ragged. She couldn't help continuously sensing that probing touch on her rear. He's Sansa's husband. He's the father of my grandchild. I… What would Ned think?
The constant battle with her own mind lasted the whole night. The sensation of Joffrey's tight embrace and his breath on her nape kept her warm in ways better left unspoken.
What's happening to me?
But the moment Joffrey began to move, she closed her eyes again and acted as if asleep. The arm hugging her waist eventually released her, and the feeling of his warm chest retreated. She wondered if he left, but then she felt his rough fingers caress her face and move the locks away.
"So far away from home, fighting a battle none want to support me in. Thank you for reminding me of home, my lady." Joffrey commented, knowing very well she wasn't asleep. Her heartbeat was enough proof. "Gods are cruel… So beautiful, so much like Sansa, and yet so much more. If only I was born years ago."
He took a step further and caressed her thin, perfect lips before cupping the side of her face with his palm. "I envy you, my lady. You still have a family left who loves you. While I have… aspirant puppet masters."
Words crafted to pull the woman's heartstrings. Joffrey played with her heart and mind simultaneously, an ability he found himself naturally good at somehow.
Finally, he let out a long sigh, kissed Catelyn's soft cheek, and got off the bed. He made a lot of noise while getting dressed, further proving she was awake.
"I'll win you Winterfell. That's a King's promise." Joffrey left the tent after those few words.
Catelyn rose from the bed immediately, finding herself out of breath for no reason. She felt her lips trembling as well and her heart pounding like a maiden on her first wedding night.
She touched the side of her face where Joffrey's lips had left a faint, wet kiss. "H-How can someone change so much? H-He's…"
There was hesitation in completing that sentence, as it compared a boy she loathed until recently with a man she loved for so many years. But without a doubt, she saw a shadow of him in Joffrey when it came to his demeanor and speech—she felt there was… honor?
####
Although the Kingsroad was a known route, it wasn't easy to move a large army, even on horseback. The journey from the ruins of the Twins to Moat Cailin was more than a hundred miles and was going to take days.
Yet again, the Unsullied found a good campsite and propped up the tent when the night approached. After a light dinner, Joffrey retreated to his tent, waiting for Catelyn. The entire day, he had acted mature, honorable, and kind. Even helping a few smallfolk on the way or dropping a penny to begging kids.
He helped Catelyn get on the horse by her waist and even helped her down. Took breaks when he noticed signs that the woman needed to relieve herself and offered her water when he noticed her moistening her lips with her tongue.
Yes, it was all to win her heart. Where Sansa was the key to the North, he saw Catelyn as the key to Riverlands, where foolish Edmure Tully hopelessly sat with his incompetent head. In addition, if the cards were played right, he could see her being instrumental in winning the Vale out of the hands of the insanity-stricken Lysa Arryn.
"You're reading, Your Grace?" Catelyn finally arrived in the same tent she had promised herself to stay away from. There was simply no other place to sleep. It was either here or outside among the Unsullied on the rough, bare, muddy ground.
Joffrey had already discarded all his clothes and laid in the bed under the furry quilt. A thick book was in his hand: "I am, my lady. Sansa gifted this to me."
A half lie, he had merely picked it up from her room.
"It's the account of how Torrhen Stark knelt to King Aegon and the subsequent relation of Company of the Rose with the North." Joffrey amusedly talked about it and watched what the woman would do.
Catelyn couldn't stop herself from noticing the faint bulge on the quilt, somewhere on Joffrey's lower body. But then she surprised the young King by going to a small, curtained area prepared for her to change clothes.
When she returned, she was wearing a thinner, white-gray grown, just one layer. It covered all of her body, from her neck to her ankles, only revealing her arms from being sleeveless. She didn't dare look at Joffrey and silently walked around the bedding to get under the shared, large quilt.
"I didn't know Your Grace is interested in such books."
Joffrey shamelessly slid closer to the woman's body until his naked shoulder touched hers. He even turned towards her to show her the book, "I wasn't. But ever since I was informed that the exiled Targaryen princess has hatched three dragons in Essos, I've been trying to read everything I can."
Catelyn breathed heavily, trying to calm herself. "You believe those rumors?"
"Trustable sources have reported it, my lady. As the King, I have to accept that it's probable and, accordingly, plan a defense. If she has the dragons, the Targaryen princess will come with a heart of vengeance. For killing her father, she will burn Winterfell, King's Landing, Storm's End, and Casterly Rock to ashes."
"But her father deserved it!"
Joffrey chuckled, "And Littlefinger believed he deserved to have you. Does that mean the seeds of chaos he sowed were justified?"
Catelyn fell silent at the mention of Littlefinger. Now, she had started to believe in everything Joffrey had said, the ravens had told her, and what other lords spoke about. Besides, she had seen Lysa with her own eyes. There was no doubt she had lost her mind.
However, Joffrey broke her chain of thoughts. "My eyes are tired. Will you read me this page, my lady?"
"Of course, Your Grace." She agreed.
But she didn't expect Joffrey to hug her waist and place his face close to her ears above her shoulder as she rested against the pillows. Being sleeveless, she felt his skin, sending electric shivers down her body.
His arm rested on her thin nightgown, almost caressing her belly as it didn't remain idle for a good few long moments. But when he stopped, he was almost touching the underside of her globes.
Catelyn looked at the page, but she couldn't focus on the words. She felt her lips going dry when Joffrey placed his leg on hers, his groin pressing on her.
"Your Grace." She put the book down, frustrated with herself and him. "You're my son's age. This isn't appropriate."
Joffrey felt bolstered by her addressing it directly and moved his arm upwards. His hand pressed on her soft mounds and rose to her face, caressing her chin. "I know, my lady. I assure you, I have no ulterior motives. I-I just wish to feel some warmth."
A plethora of emotions hit her simultaneously. After hearing him that morning, she felt sad for him. For helping her regain the North, she felt gratitude. And for all the showering compliments, she felt flustered. For being her son-in-law, she felt he was family.
Joffrey didn't give her a chance to speak as he closed his eyes and fell asleep. Yet again, Catelyn found herself tensed with his hand now resting on her breast, and his manhood throbbing against the side of her thighs.
In the end, she slid down further into the bed and tried to sleep.
"Mmm… Ma lady-eh…" Joffrey 'mumbled in sleep' close to her ears, "Soh… warm."
Catelyn stared at the darkness of the tent's roofing, unaware a faint smile had graced her lips. "I'm too old for this."
She told him, or perhaps herself.
####
Boom!
Five exploding arrows from the massive Scorpions were launched at the hill Great Barrow, on which the castle of House Dustin sat. With Barrowtown already surrounded and overtaken, the castle was the only defense for the noble lord. But the walls of the castle were mostly made of wood.
Explosions echoed in the distance. The castle walls caught fire, and chaos ensued. But the arrows didn't have as much exploding material, as the goal was only to sew fear.
"Send the messengers," Joffrey commanded while sitting atop a wooden chair, surrounded by Unsullied soldiers. Standing beside him was also Catelyn Stark, marveling at Joffrey's weapons and the efficiency of his army.
A few moments later, three horses came riding down from the hilltop castle, rushing as if their lives depended on it, which they did.
Surprisingly, the head of House Dustin was a lady who was once a Ryswell. A tall, older woman with decent features, a remnant of her beauty in youth. But now she looked ugly with the frown on her face in those all-black robes she donned.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Barbrey Dustin jumped down from her horse but was blocked by Unsullied soldiers from approaching Joffrey.
Joffrey didn't stand from his seat, "One bends the knee when addressing their King."
"North's King i—"
Joffrey sneered and glanced at Ser Arthur beside him, "Continue the bombardment."
Boom!
At a moment's notice, five more exploding arrows struck the castle's wall, seeping dread into the proud woman's heart. The army, as well, was too big to fight against.
Joffrey continued afterward, "I am not here to defeat you or subjugate you. I merely came to remind you of your oath. Go ahead, swear fealty to me, and I shall stop. Or else, I shall hold you in collusion with the Freys and Boltons in a plot to assassinate the King of the Seven Kingdoms."
"What?!"
Joffrey glanced at Catelyn as they felt Barbrey seemed genuinely shocked.
So Catelyn stepped forward. "It was at the wedding at the Twins, my Lady. The Boltons and Freys killed Robb, his wife, and the unborn child. I lived because His Grace saved me—"
"Smalljon Umber, Dacey Mormont, Donnel Locke, Owen Norrey, Robin Flint, Lucan Blackwood—plenty more Crewyns, Dustins, Flints, Swells, and more. All died in the plot of Walder Frey and Roose Bolton. Of course, I have ended the bloodline of the Freys, and the Boltons are the next." Joffrey explained the situation to her, "Your next words will plot the future of your house, my lady. Will you be my enemy? Or a vassal house of Starks, sworn to me, as your King?"
Barbrey showed not a hint of fear in her gaze. "Roose is dead?"
"As he should be."
Thud!
Barbrey knelt down immediately, her sword's blade planted before her knees. "I, Barbrey Dustin of House Dustin, do hereby swear my solemn oath of fealty—"
Joffrey smiled and watched the woman swear an oath in House Stark's name. But in reality, it was he who presided over it. It was a great start to their tour to gather support and oaths already.
What followed was a minor feast in the very castle Joffrey had attacked. But they didn't rest there and instead resumed their journey towards Torrhen's Square where a real battle was to be fought against the Greyjoys—Only later he would realize how 'battle' was an overestimation.
The sun began setting only a few hours after they began their journey. In the vast, open, and flat Barrowlands, they set up a temporary camp. Food was prepared on fire, and Joffrey's resting tent was erected.
Joffrey had decided to make a move that night, so he went to bed before Catelyn to reenact what had happened previously. Once again, he picked up a book and laid down almost in the middle of the bed.
Larger candles were placed around in the tent that evening, not wanting to lose the chance to witness the body of the woman for whom Littlefinger was ready to set the realm on fire.
"House Dustin will not betray us." Catelyn eventually entered the tent and sat beside the bed on a wooden chair. To a degree, she felt scared of going to bed that night. "Lady Barbrey holds no liking to the Bolton bastard."
"She would have betrayed us if Roose Bolton was alive." Joffrey sneered at her naive, trusting attitude. "Not out of respect, but fear."
Catelyn measured his words and agreed to a degree. "Your Grace, in the North, fear will win you fielty. But honor and respect will win you loyalty."
"I know, my lady." He smiled at her face, "But I do wonder if I have won something from you yet."
Catelyn shifted her gaze, her hands nervously rubbing together on her lap. "I-I owe my life to you, Your Grace. For showing love to Sansa, saving Arya, and now my son… I don't think I can ever repay you."
You will do that alright.
Joffrey sighed and slid down on the bed after placing the book aside. "Just… have some faith in me as the King. That's all I ask for in return. We all must stand strong together, in case the dragons come roaring."
Ned? Catelyn whispered to herself in thoughts when she heard his tired voice with a dose of a sigh. Ned used to do it so many times. Did Sansa change him?
Ultimately, she couldn't stall it for too long and changed into a thin nightgown before slipping under the quilt. Noting Joffrey's closed eyes, she turned her back towards him and tried to sleep.
"Catelyn."
Her body froze abruptly. The feeling of Joffrey's breath on her nape was so noticeable, but he hadn't touched her yet.
"Y-Yes, Your Grace?"
Joffrey eased into her rear right then and gently warped one arm around her curvaceous waist, stopping only when his palm rested spread on her flat belly. "Can you tell me more about the North? About Winterfell?"
Oh, dear Maiden, I don't think I can control myself anymore. Joffrey prayed to the goddess of love, fertility, and chastity. The scent of her hair is so intoxicating.
Wanting to touch her better, he softly eased his lower arm under Catelyn's neck, making her lay her head on his bicep. That allowed him to hug her body better from behind, letting his naked self feel all of her back. Her knees, although folded forward, allowed Joffrey to probe his manhood right under the crack of her rear.
Her heart's going to explode at this rate.
"Catelyn?"
She breathed out heavily and woke up from the stupor. She wanted to tell him to stop, and yet she found herself unable to muster enough strength. The way he took her name felt overbearing, but not in a wrong way.
"Y-Yes, of course. The North has its own charms, Your Gra—"
"Joffrey, just call me that." He interrupted, nestling his face deeper on her nape and allowing his lips to brush against her skin.
Catelyn felt the soft, wet lips behind her head, and goosebumps arose all over her skin. What am I doing? She screamed in her head. I can't allow this to continue!
Yet she didn't say that out loud. "The North… T-The people here are more honest, Your—I mean Joffrey. It's cold here, but…Umm…"
Joffrey finally planted a real kiss on her nape. A deep, wet kiss involving his tongue and squeezing lips. It was long and moving, up and down, left and right on her neck.
His breath was so warm and ragged that Catelyn attempted to shift in her place, a useless action to take her mind off her reacting body. The movement only served to her loss as her hips stirred and hardened Joffrey's length further. She could feel his length when she straightened her leg—probing between her veiled thighs.
Joffrey started to feel her curves with the hand on her belly. But instead of going up, he massaged the sides of her thighs first. His touch was butterfly-soft, delicately caressing the tender flesh. He enjoyed the little jerks of her body whenever he went further down on her leg and then up—raising the hem of her thin nightgown.
"Things are calm and gentle, while life is harsh." She mustered some courage and continued to speak despite the increasing kisses on her neck, now reaching her shoulder as well. "Managing food takes much of the um-time."
Joffrey's hand on the side of her leg began to slide towards her inner thighs, squeezing her flesh softly while lifting her gown more unashamedly. It was already above her knees, and it only took a few more tugs before it was bunched up around her waist.
"Continue, Catelyn," Joffrey whispered in her ears and kissed her earlobe, licking it afterward. Just when her attention was where his mouth was acting, she noticed a thick, throbbing, warm mass squeeze between her exposed thighs.
Catelyn's chest heaved underneath the blanket. They were in the cold, harsh north, yet she felt burning heat that night. "Everything was… p-perfect until y-oh!"
She reacted when Joffrey thrusted forward a bit and planted his hard shaft all the way between her creamy, warm flesh—resting just beneath the delicate womanhood, twitching profusely. Her small clothes did little as the skin of her legs felt his bareness.
"Until?" Joffrey asked her, now raising his hand back up to her belly and caressing up her arm. He touched her skin with delight and stopped after reaching the nightgown's wide shoulder straps. He tried to pull it, giving his lips more skin to claim with his watery lips.
Catelyn gulped a few times, "U-Until the moment Bran fell from the tower."
Joffrey's jaw tightened. He knew very well how he fell and why he fell. Another gift from the damned incestuous brother and sister. "Bran is alive."
"What?!"
Using the moment of her shock, he pulled the shoulder strap so hard that it tore apart, leaving a long tear in her dress from her neck to her midriff. He began moving his hips at the same time, sliding between her tight legs. As for his arm, it found its place back on her belly, with his palm now spreading the torn neckline and capturing her voluptuous breasts.
Joffrey resumed kissing her neck deeply, with more room to cover now. In between, he replied to her question. "He was last seen going north with Hodor. He's likely heading to the Wall for reasons un… unknown."
"Hmm…" Catelyn unknowingly reacted to the overwhelming touch. His straining cock was long, thick, and hot; heating up her own temperature down there. His hand cupped one of her sizable mounds, slowly squeezing the globes out of the small clothes.
Joffrey slowly increased his actions, taking his lips dangerously close to the side of her face on the cheek. His hips, instead of just thrusting back and forth, now added a gyrating upward motion to tease her hidden loins.
"Yoh-Your Grace… Joffrey… How do you know that?"
"Lord Varys has eyes everywhere. Bran survived the betrayal of Theon Greyjoy," Joffrey answered and abruptly took a bold step. He gripped the bottom of the small clothes on her breasts and shoved them upwards. Being a mere piece of cloth, it was easily shoved to her neck.
Fuck, I want to see them!
But for now, he found solace in the touch. Oh, how soft and ripe they were. He could feel his fingers clawing the mounds and yet much of it spilling out between the fingers, and more. Her nipples also stood erect, the size of small pebbles.
It woke the hungry lion in him as he kneaded her with passion. Gentle moans escaped her lips nonetheless, her breath now uncontrollable, and her legs tightened around his cock.
Catelyn couldn't think anymore. From the day Ned had left Winterfell, she had remained untouched. Her desires were locked, her needs suppressed by the looming war. But now, as if a dam broke apart, all her longings flooded out.
Joffrey could feel something wet and slimy coating his shaft as he kept moving—a great sign for him. "If we're quick enough, we may be able to stop him. The Wall has many enemies of the Starks. Bran would be an easy target without his legs."
"Oh… Bran!" Catelyn moaned. Although the name on her lips was that of her son, the reason for the moan was the King's fingers, pinching on the tight buds of her mounds.
Joffrey loved everything about it. The sounds she was making, the little restraint she was trying to show. It was like a battle he was slowly winning, and every inch of victory was sweeter than anything else.
I want to taste them. He longed to take her feminine peaks between his lips. Seven Hells, I want to pound her cunt.
Although lost in that heated moment, Catelyn showed concern for her son. "T-Then we must hurry, Your Graaaah-ce!"
"You're so warm, Catelyn." Joffrey sighed and stopped kissing her neck, "Sansa and I used to do it at least three times a day, every single day… I truly yearn for her."
Catelyn's brows furrowed, and she found herself taking a step she knew her husband would never forgive her for. Before saying anything, she moved one of her free hands down, raised her upper leg, and held onto Joffrey's girth with her feminine, thin digits.
"Oh!" Joffrey moaned almost at her voluntary action. She had only captured his cock with a clenched grip, allowing him to keep thrusting and fuck her fist. His hands went wilder with that, sinking his palm deep and squeezing her breasts.
"Ungh!" Catelyn felt a tantalizing discomfort on her chest, "J-Joffrey… Sansa would be elated if you could save Bran."
Joffrey pulled his arm from underneath her head and raised himself on his elbow behind her to get a view of her lush breasts. Aye, I'd like to taste them for as long as I can.
"But." Joffrey acted as if he was on the verge of a release in her gripping fist. "That'd mean staying in the North for many more months… I need Sansa—"
"Joffrey." Catelyn took his name with a different tone this time, almost lovingly. But shocking him, she turned on the bed right then, giving him a clear view of her entire front.
I can't wait.
Joffrey kept playing with her flesh, his cock now being fully stroked by her gentle hand on the side. He stared into her needy eyes, and she looked into his hungry gaze.
"Catelyn." He murmured and nestled his face under her chin to kiss her neck. But he continued to speak between breaths. "You look so much like my Sansa."
Catelyn raised her head on the pillow, giving him more of her ivory flesh to drench in saliva. Her other free hand stroked his blonde hair. She had understood the young King's message. To keep him in the North, she needed to become his Sansa.
"Aye, many have said so-oh!" She replied and let go of all the shame and restraint. Yes, this was everything against her beliefs. Yes, this was akin to whoring herself. Yes, Ned would never forgive her for this. But for the sake of her sons, her daughters, the North, and Ned's legacy, it was a price she chose to pay.
Not enough. Joffrey noted there was still no acceptance from the woman, just surrender. Only one way to earn that.
Joffrey stopped doing everything and sat up on the bed. In a swift move, he threw the quilt away and tore apart the rest of Catelyn's thin nightgown—from the neck to the skirt's edge. He pulled away the small clothes from around her neck and then focused down.
The candlelight was faint, but it was enough to notice a faint, dark, and damp portion of her lower small clothes right above her womanhood. Now experienced, he untied it and pulled it down from her legs before throwing it away.
Catelyn closed her eyes in shame and raised her knees to spread her legs apart in an invitation to shove himself in and be done with. However, Joffrey just silently admired her while crawling between her legs.
Her beautiful, mature face of fair skin. The long auburn hair that spread on the pillow under her. High cheekbones, thin, perfect lips; she was in all sense one of the most beautiful women in Westeros even at that age.
That sentiment only grew stronger the further down he looked. Her long neck, proud feminine shoulders, and the pristine ivory skin that covered her luscious peaks of pure maternal breasts. The panting toned belly and thin waist, followed by spreading curves that made her hips.
Her legs were long and spotless, and right there in the middle was the slit of love, the focus of the night. Clearly, she hadn't expected this moment, explaining the subtle amount of tawny hair adorning her folds—pink, not as tight as her daughter's, and yet so beautiful to look at with its symmetrical lips, salivating.
Despite the harsh days she had gone through recently, he felt baffled by the neatness and elegance of her figure. Looking like a mature sex goddess who was inviting him to earn his reward.
Good fucking Seven Hells—Now I know why Ned put five Starks in her.
"Lies," Joffrey commented abruptly while both his hands traced the skin of her legs, going up and closer to her inviting folds. "The men of this realm are fools. They were and still are. No, Cersei, that wretched woman was never the beauty of Westeros—the real beauty was hidden in the North all along."
"Ah!" Catelyn moaned, her back arched at the slightest touch by Joffrey's finger near her sensitive flower.
Joffrey had a different plan, however. He spread his knees back and lowered his face between her legs. His hands clenched on her thighs many times, his tongue teasing the boundaries of her core. "Catelyn Tully—the most beautiful in thoughts, in heart, and of course—body."
What is this? Why am I feeling so warm? Catelyn felt confused and clenched her eyes further.
But, instead of feeling the rough, impaling shaft entering her. She found a gentle probe of something soft and wet, teetering her on the brink of arousal in a single blink.
"No! That's…" She opened her eyes wide and looked down between her legs. Joffrey's shining blonde hair was there, and his tongue was lapping up her scentful nectar. This was new. This was not something Ned had ever done to her. This wasn't how one made love. This was something else that… "Mmmh!"
Joffrey was shocked by himself. He usually hated pubic hair, but he couldn't care less this time. He silently positioned his face there and began deftly licking her labia and clit while probing the savory hole with the tip of his tongue.
Then he raised his right hand and caressed upwards, pausing to squeeze her breast a few times and finally raising two fingers on her lips, gently probing.
Catelyn reacted with confusion. But allowed Joffrey to dip his fingers in her mouth and coat them in her saliva. Before she could ask why, she noticed Joffrey bringing his hand back down to her drenched petals.
"Oh! Joffrey!" She moaned so loud that it scared her. She wasn't supposed to enjoy it, she told herself. Yet it felt like the most fantastic sensation as he inserted his two fingers while continuing to lick and profusely suck on her tight clitoris.
It became too hard to keep herself gathered. Her one hand went to rub her mounds, while the other went down to comb through Joffrey's hair. Her legs, she tried her hardest not to raise and lock around Joffrey's head.
Joffrey relished in her melodic moans and sensed she was building towards an orgasm. So he added a third finger and plunged it without further care of going gentle. Being a woman who had birthed five children, he could imagine she'd need more than two, so he stretched her, aiding to push her over the edge.
"Aa-ah!" A feeling like never before enveloped Catelyn. Her belly throbbed, and her pussy burst with an erotic release that was new to her. So much and so intense that her hips jumped on their own, and her muscles convulsed. Her tight core further squeezed his fingers as the wild juices flowed out.
Joffrey continued to fuck her with his digits, curved a little upwards and throwing her into a frenzied shaking of the head. Her sensitivity had peaked, and her pale pink petals had turned red from the erotic abuse.
Her eyes, watery with tears, confusedly stared at the boy, no, the man who made her feel this way. It reminded her of her first night with Ned, not in action, but in feelings—the warm, suffocating, yet elated sensation.
"Y-Your Grace…" she tried to speak but couldn't, out of breath as she lay on the bed spreadeagled, her hands having abused the sheets with her tight grip. "I…"
"Shhh…" Joffrey smiled and moved over her, draping her with his body.
Right away, he grabbed both of her magnificent large breasts and cupped them upwards from the base with his spread palms. Making them rise, he suckled an ample amount from both at a time, biting softly on the hard nipples.
After groping and suckling her and coating her mounds with his saliva thoroughly, he slid further up on her body while spreading her perfect, long legs to slap his cock on the tender entrance he had prepared.
Face to face, he looked deeply into her eyes. The candles were almost on the verge of dousing, but the heat within him was far from over. He caressed the woman's face under him, admiring the view.
Despite being much older than him, he couldn't bring himself to find any flaw in her. Her femininity was intact. Her charm was only increased by her curves, sizable globes, and mature features.
"I'll enter, Catelyn," he said and, while holding her face with one hand, used the other to guide his cock towards her entrance.
"Umph!" Catelyn took a vocal breath when his swollen crown teased her sensitive core. "I-I'm not Sansa."
Joffrey lowered his hips, spreading her soaking wet pussy to his size, little by little. But he never broke his gaze, nor did she, even though his cock made her jaw tighten and chin rise.
"True, you're not Sansa," Joffrey replied and lowered his lips to her side, leaning in to whisper further, "You are much more."
"Oh!" Catelyn replied with a moaning breath into his ear as Joffrey, aided by her nectar, slid all the way to the hilt. He was big, he was thick, and he filled her just the amount she needed to feel aroused and yet not pained.
Joffrey gently pulled back and began to pump in and out, carefully sliding out till the tip before shoving back in. The bulging muscle that was his shaft rubbed against all the right places she never knew she had.
So intoxicating, so arousing. It was a sensation she thought she'd ever experience again in life. A sensation she now realized how much she longed for.
Yes, there was shame in her lust-filled eyes. She hated how her legs, on their own, wrapped around the young King's waist, aiding him to hit deeper within. But in the end, she was still a woman, left alone in a cruel world, with a war looming, and losses so devastating.
"Umm… ah, ah…!" Her mouth opened, and moans escaped. At that moment, she didn't feel alone, nor scared.
Joffrey grunted into her ear with his pumps that turned from gentle and noble to savage and hungry. No matter how graceful a lion was, in the end, it was still a savage. Perhaps even more than a wolf.
"Catelyn, this is s—"
"Shhh…!" Catelyn didn't allow him to finish his words and wrapped her arms around Joffrey's neck before pulling his face down on hers. Her legs spread to feel him deep inside, her breasts squished between their bodies, and her lips finally met with his.
At first a simple reciprocal rubbing of lips against one another. But soon, she parted her lips to breathe between his deep thrusts that threw her body up. Joffrey's tongue invaded at that moment, and she replied with the same.
Their tongues danced and gently sucked a bit on each other's lips. Exchanging fluids and one of the most intimate moments, they seemingly drowned in one another.
He relished in the sensation he felt inside her core. Not loose, not tight, she was a different kind of pleasure he found himself experiencing. Lady Stark, the Warden of the North, was now his.
A sense of pride, a sense of passion, and a whole lot of sexual arousal overcame Joffrey's being. The fact that she initiated that kiss threw him over the edge more than anything else. He noticed her insides quivering already and squeezing him tight, alongside his own throbbing cock nearing a release.
Where? He asked himself, but it didn't take too long to make a decision. I guess there's only one answer.
"Ugh!" Joffrey groaned into her mouth and picked up the pace. His public bones struck her under thighs and ass harder with force, reaching a bit deeper. He abruptly got very rough, crashing his entire body weight into her noble cunt with each plunge, his balls swinging and slapping her ass each time.
The wet sounds of their sex echoed in that tent. There was no doubt the soldiers outside were able to hear it all. But neither Joffrey nor Catelyn seemed to be bothered, as they simply drowned in each other.
"Ah, oh… Joffrey!" Catelyn's blue eyes went wide. Her mouth hung open for Joffrey to dip utterly deep in with his tongue. Her orgasm came not long after, with spasming muscles that intensely fought against his thrusting shaft.
Joffrey felt her tightness and pushed further down on her body, invading so deep that her hips were raised a little too high, her legs spread wider, and her back arched upwards with his weighing body.
Right there, as deep as possible, he went through the most exceptional climax in a while. After days of not fucking a cunt, the wait felt like it was worth it. Ropes after ropes of his seed-filled cream spilled within her, warming her insides.
"Ghh!" He rode through the release like a blissful ride in a spring breeze. Little thrusts in and out did the job of squeezing out all he had to put in her belly, only to stop when he felt no more spasms.
But he still pumped a few thrusts, coating his cock in his cream and finally sliding out. As he sat back, Catelyn's hips came falling down, and her legs straightened. Her arms spread wide, breasts tossing with heavy pants.
Soaked down there, wet with saliva all above; She couldn't make up her mind. Did she make love, or got violated? Joffrey did things to her that Ned never did—things that she absolutely loved.
"Mmm…" She tried to look at the man responsible for her state, only to find him staring at her exposed folds, leaking his nectar. "No!"
Only then did she realize he had come inside her. The horror only intensified at the realization that getting moontea now was almost impossible. They were headed to a battle.
Joffrey didn't hear her yelp. For some reason, he felt his soaked, slimy cock was unsatisfied. The sight of her red, swollen slit excited him to no end.
And that's how Joffrey Baratheon won the Riverlands and the Vale. He boasted to himself. But the battle is not over.
"Turn around on all fours, Catelyn," he ordered her out of nowhere.
Catelyn's eyes almost fell out at the shock. "W-What? No, I can—"
But Joffrey gripped the side of her waist and turned her on the belly before gripping her sweat-soaked red hair in one hand to pull her back, forcing her to get on her hands and knees. It didn't matter that his load was still dripping from her petals since he had more to put in.
"Joffrey, what are y—"
He didn't allow her to speak and eased his half-erect cock in. The liquid warmth was such that in no time, he began reaching full erection.
This view. He admired her ass below, her hair, and her spotless warm back. It'll take a little more to tame this fish.
"I'm a young man, Catelyn." he said and plunged all the way in, "I'm not stopping until I can't move anymore."
And so, Joffrey continued to claim his promised Northern bride—again.
It was no longer a plan to kill her. No, now she was to be his and only his.
A proxy to rule two Kingdoms.
A woman of King Joffrey Baratheon.
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