Chereads / GOT: The Golden Lion / Chapter 56 - Chapter 53 - The Poison, The Plan, The Promise III

Chapter 56 - Chapter 53 - The Poison, The Plan, The Promise III

Those crass words were shameful for Sansa, but teasing and exciting for Joffrey. He saw not an ounce of refusal from the redhead as she dropped to her knees instantly. Completely devoted to her King, she kept herself high and finally pressed her cleavage forward on his exposed, throbbing length.

Heaven. The cloud-like silky softness was just something else. Joffrey even widened his legs to bring himself to a more comfortable level for her.

"Like this, Your Grace?" Sansa asked, staring up at his face with her innocent eyes.

That made Joffrey doubt if she was really naive or just acting that way. Or perhaps she had learned how to please him by now. "Go on… Be fast."

"Umm…" Sansa threw her face down and started taking Joffrey's cockhead in her mouth whenever it peeked out of the valley. Her breasts, albeit not big, did enough to send waves of shuddering pleasure down the King's spine.

"Mmmm~"

"Keep it up!" Joffrey began thrusting to match the pace and help her. It was a mess down there around his cock, sticky and wet from Sansa's spit and her leaking nurturing milk mixing well into a thick cream. "M-Mouth… take it in your mouth!"

Knowing anyone might come and ruin this moment, he tried to do it fast. With both hands, he grabbed her neatly done hair tight, made into a nest of braids on the top, while two thick braids fell on each side of her shoulder.

Uncaring, he thrust into her mouth, invading her throat with her own sticky milk and spit coating his cock. It aroused him to no end. Each gagging squeeze of her throat made it feel hotter. Looking down at the mess of Sansa's face made it exciting. I own this… Face—fuck! Ugh!

Tingles of pleasure tickled his scalp. Joffrey struggled to shove all of his cock into her mouth but still pushed through. He may not have Robert's blood, but he knew he was bigger than most would expect from a man of his size. "More…!"

At his order, Sansa tried to push her face on his length. Even at the cost of choking herself, she complied and took all but an inch of his need.

"Close! Mh!" Joffrey groaned. A side of himself he only showed to a few women. Breathing like a racehorse, he fucked her face harder, each thrust earning a gurgling echo from her mouth. "Tighter!"

Just one word. One order. Sansa squeezed her lips tighter around him. The pleasure heightened, and the sensation of her warm lips on his veiny girth with each thrust tickled his balls into action.

"Ugh! There….!" Joffrey groaned and thrust forward one last time and planted himself deep in her throat. But there he continued small thrusts, bursting out a thick creamy load right there. Shot after shot, he filled her to the brim, and as he pulled back slowly, she snorted out, making a mess out of her nose that leaked more of his cream. "Swallow! Don't make a mess!"

I wish… hah, I could paint this memory. Joffrey kept on thrusting and fucking her face while admiring the ruined makeup on her face. The leaking and dribbling white residue around her lips was just too hot to look at. Like a mark of his territory.

Seeing her like this also stroked his hunger at times. He often wondered, How would it feel to bed all three Stark women together?

Food for thought, no doubt. A dream that he knew was achievable as long as he took slow and steady steps.

What a sight. Watching her gulp while he continued to slide in and out of her 'o'-shaped lips was too much. He could feel a second erection was not far away, and this time it'd need more than a mouth. Sadly, there was no time for it.

"Oh, Sansa." He finally pulled out of her lips and leaned down. He left a short, loving peck on her clean forehead. "I was never angry at you. How can I ever be angry at my first love?"

A dose of fear followed by a dose of love. That was how Joffrey planned to keep Sansa all for himself.

"Joffrey." Sansa took his name, a sign of her love. But her brows furrowed next. "W-Why don't we get married?"

Ugh, asking this now? Great way to ruin my mood. Joffrey internally sneered but kept a smile outside. He caressed her hair and made a sorrowful face. "Sansa, if it were up to me I'd marry you right now and put another babe in your womb. We wouldn't leave our bedchambers for days."

"Then why?" She insisted, asking.

Keeping himself under control, Joffrey finally knelt down to her level and tore a small, dry piece of fabric from her small clothes above the breasts. Then, he wiped her breasts, slowly going up to her face. "The realm is unstable, Sansa. The last Targaryen king left the realm broken, and my father left the realm bankrupt. The crown is weak and surrounded by enemies."

"But… You have the support of the North, the Vale, and…"

Joffrey shut her up by cleaning her lips and the rest of her face. "Dorne and the Iron Islands are still not under control… Until they are, I… Forgive me, Sana. I love you, but I must love my people too. Plenty have died in rebellions and wars, I can't let them suffer more."

What was Sansa's ideal man? A knight in shining armor. A man of honor and virtue. One who upholds his duty. In that case, Joffrey was a king willing to serve the realm rather than embrace the vice of sexual pleasures. A man more focused on serving the realm than drowning himself in her royal cunt.

Wasn't such a man worth respecting?

Joffrey knew her too well, and sure enough, saw pride in her flickering eyes. You're too easy, Sansa.

"Then…" Sansa stood up and fixed her clothes. "Will you be visiting tonight?"

So you can send Arya away?

"I'm afraid I can't, Sansa. A possibility of war looms, and I must do all I can to avoid it." Joffrey helped her tie the hooks on the front of her dress and then kissed her face, avoiding the lips. "But I will visit soon."

Knock! Knock!

"Your Grace, Lord Tywin seeks an audience."

Brilliant timing, Grandfather. Joffrey nodded at Sansa.

As Joffrey walked back to his seat, Sansa opened the door to leave. Shyly, she greeted Tywin and walked away as quickly as she could. Those with half a brain already knew what had happened in the room.

"Grandfather." He greeted the old lion.

As dignified as ever, Tywin walked in and took a seat without saying a word. He looked at the table where the map of Westeros was carved. Noticing a distinct lion emblem beside the sigils of liege lords filled him with pride. All of those signified the houses that Joffrey had subdued.

"Have you met with my and Sansa's daughter?" Joffrey asked.

Tywin shook his head. "Not yet. But I have heard the name."

"Forgive me for not asking you beforehand. But seeing her… I couldn't help but imagine grandmother." Joffrey did what he knew best. Play with emotions.

"Are you planning on marrying Sansa?" Tywin asked.

Joffrey just smirked and looked at the North on the map on the table. Then, he picked a small, wooden lion emblem and placed it on the sigil of House Stark itself. "I see no such need when I have already harvested the field."

Then, Joffrey put the lion emblem on House Arryn of Vale's sigil. "Robert Arryn, to this day, lives in the Red Keep and learns how to 'rule'."

Next, Joffrey removed and placed the lion on the fish sigil of House Tully. "The Riverlands… Tricky, but the likes of Edmure are bound to make way for a more… suitable choice."

Crownlands was already marked with a lion, and so was the Westerlands.

"Not a Stag?" Tywin asked, noticing the peculiarity.

Joffrey chuckled and relaxed back in his seat like a King. "Outside this chamber, I'm a Stag. But in here, I consider myself a lion, Grandfather."

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