Once alone, Joffrey resumed smearing Chataya's entire back with both his hands. From her nape to her shoulder blades, trailing along her spine, and eventually reaching her heavy hips. They felt like feathers under his palms, unable to resist the temptation to knead them. But he kept going down and squeezed the flesh of her thighs and calves. Oh, how much I'll love sliding between these.
"I didn't come here for pleasure today, Chataya. Not today, at least," he replied and went upward again, dangerously sliding his fingers close to her clean, hairless cunt. Oh, how much he loved the sight of that dark pink teasing view. Her entire body roared 'exotic' to his mind. "I need something done. Something about a whore."
As if she wanted the King to go further with her body, she took her sweet time to reply. Opting to remain silent and breathing heavily for a while. Only when she felt both his palms reaching for the overflowing breasts on the sides did she respond.
"Which one, Your Grace?"
"Her name is Shae," Joffrey replied.
He was hard as a rock in his breeches and it was really not easy to control the urges. He wanted to throw away all his clothes and slide right into her tight cunt. But he knew he needed energy for the rest of the day.
So he chose to simply make his favorite whore in the King's Landing drool around his fingers. One hand traced her spine, and then alongside the crack of her ass, curved down between her soaking hot thighs. The wet sensations of her dark Calla Lily petals aroused him even more, so he spared no time and slid two fingers in.
"Mmm~" Chataya vocally hummed. Enjoying the heated touch from the King. "Shae? I remember her. Lord Tyrion fancies her, doesn't he?"
"He does." Joffrey kept his words short as the view was magnificent. Her body, her height, her form, he wondered what it'd feel like to spend a night with her. She was bigger, heavier, and hotter than any other whore or woman he had seen.
"And her crime?"
Joffrey scoffed and shoved two fingers all the way in before beginning the quick finger fucking. "What happens to a whore who forgets her place?"
Yet again Chataya took her time, wanting to have her climax it seemed. "Most get killed, if not worse… torments. Do you want her dead, Your Grace?"
The wet squelching noises started to form and grow. Joffrey's hand never stopped sliding in her cunt. Hot, tight, and deep, he realized. But he was also a master of his craft and his thumb easily reached her clit despite her lying on her belly. The muscles of her plump bottom clenched as a sign of her approaching climax.
"No. But I want to course correct her life," Joffrey declared with a twisted smile. "It's my wedding, and there are plenty of wealthy men in the city. Find someone who can offer Shae a fortune for a night of pleasure. Give them this room, so my dear uncle can be reminded that, in the end, she is still just a whore."
"Ooh~" Chataya cooed and reached the brink of climax. "You sound confident that she'll accept the offer, Your Grace."
"Yesterday, she wouldn't have. Today? She will," Joffrey replied and stopped talking for a moment, putting all his focus on this fine specimen of a woman. His fingers fucking her damp slit, the teases to her clit also rhythmic. He enjoyed the feeling of his digits sliding into jelly-like, soft wet walls. The twitches inside, each time the tips of his fingers reached further in, excited him.
He knew she wouldn't mind at all if he were to jump on top and shove his hardness in. She may even welcome him with open arms and a greedy cunt, evident by the way her hips wiggled, her ass beckoning towards his hand, craving more and more.
But soon enough the music of her glorious moans echoed in that room. Her cunt, arse, entire back throbbed with the jolts of her body. The splendor of that oozing climax took over her mind and body. The orchestra of squelches reached its peak and found more dampness, soon enough as she came again and again with wild spasms.
"Aaaah…" She moaned and breathed out before finally settling in the bed like a lifeless doll. Unmoving, quite satisfied. "Heh… It's your wedding, Your Grace. Shouldn't I be the one presenting gifts?"
Pa!
Joffrey softly slapped her ebony asscheek and removed his wet hand. "Don't fret, I'll claim what is mine when the moment is ripe... with interest."
She chuckled and turned her face towards him to look. "I'll make sure the business with Shae is done as per your need, Your Grace."
"Inform me timely so I can bring Uncle to see his precious whore get shagged." Joffrey sneered as he wiped his damp fingers across her soft ass, striding back towards the cupboard. "Move the bed so the cupboard has a clear view of the action."
Chataya agreed right away, responding with a choppy hum of her voice.
Joffrey bid farewell then and returned the way he entered. Through the tunnel and once again back at the guarded stable. But he rushed now as the time to take the vows of marriage at the Sept of Baelor was soon approaching.
Before that, he just had one last thing to do. One lone woman who he needed to assure that everything was going to be alright.
He had learned his lessons from his past life. Especially regarding Sansa. If the girl could happily get her father killed, then there was no doubt she'd happily do something stupider after seeing him getting married to another woman. Killing herself? The baby? Or escaping the Red Keep? He didn't want any of that.
So, with quick strides, he arrived outside the closed door of Sansa's bedchamber. Oh, the fond memories he had of the place.
"Sansa? Are you in there?" Joffrey knocked a few times and tried to open the door. But it was locked from the inside. "Sansa? It's Joffrey. Open the door, I have something to talk to you about."
Click!
At that sound, Joffrey pushed the door open. At first glance, he saw Sansa in her regal gown ready to attend the wedding. Yet, her eyes looked swollen, watery, and red. She was most likely crying in there, it wasn't hard to guess.
"Stand guard here," Joffrey ordered the Kingsguards and walked inside. He closed the door behind first and then turned to Sansa. He said nothing and simply pulled her into a warm embrace against his chest.
Squeezing her body tight, he cared not for the wondrous, nectar-filled breasts pressing against him. He just maintained that embrace, her thin waist truly erotic in every way. He heard her crying again over his shoulder, so he caressed the back of her head, combing through her silky red hair.
"Shh… Don't cry, Sansa. Are you crying because I'm getting married?" He asked.
Sansa nodded strongly. "Y-You said… Everything will be a-alright but—"
"But it's already my wedding day and nothing has changed?" Joffrey completed her words and moved her away from the hug but kept her close. He gazed into her striking blue eyes and forced his lust and appetite to calm down. "You have such little faith in me? Sansa, you're my love, the mother of my daughter. As for that smirking bitch, she'll be taking vows with me at the Sept."
"Vows?" Sansa panicked even more.
"Night—Wait until night. If you're still unsatisfied with me, I'll do anything you want," Joffrey wagered. At best, he expected her to ask him to marry her. In your dreams, he'd say to that. But it was alright to let her dream.
Like a puppy, Sansa looked at his face in uncertainty. "You promise?"
Joffrey chuckled and squeezed her face gently with both his palms and pulled her closer. His head moved too and soon their lips locked in a passionate, heated kiss that left no part of Sansa's body untouched by Joffrey's moving hands. In the end, he settled one on her waist and the other on her rear.
"There, I sealed my promise with a kiss." He smiled warmly.
Ugh, I hate acting like this; Her so-called prince charming. Joffrey felt his stomach churn for some reason. Keeping Sansa firmly on his side was taking a toll, it seemed.
Sansa finally felt some peace in her heart and wiped her eyes clean. Then she firmly grasped his arm, "Will you walk with me to the Sept of Baelor?"
"There's always a risk of me dragging you to some dark alley and having my way, simply because you look too stunning. But I wouldn't mind," Joffrey jokingly said and walked out of the room with her. "Where is Joanna?"
"Arya is holding her for now. I was… too unstable." Sansa embarrassingly looked down.
Joffrey stopped her from feeling that way. "Forgive me, Sansa, but I must admit, it pleases me greatly to hear that. It means your love for me is genuine."
Her cheeks flushed a little and her heart started beating fast. Her grip on Joffrey's arm tightened, making sure he felt the softness of her breast that he loved so much. Yes, she knew what her royal lover liked the most. "It's more than that, Your Grace… I'd die without you."
So will your mother, foolish girl. Joffrey answered, somewhat fondly remembering the ripe body of Catelyn. He wondered what she'd birth. As for Arya.
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