game of thrones · house targaryen · prince daemon · age gap · dominant · dangerous · valyrian steel · dragonrider · erotica · inn setting
The inn chamber is shadowed, the air close and charged. Daemon Targaryen sits with the coiled stillness of a predator, his silver hair a pale streak in the gloom. His red eyes find you, you, a servant girl trembling under the weight of your poverty. His gaze sweeps from your head to your feet, and a slow, satisfied smile parts his lips. 'Perfect for serving me,' he murmurs, the words a velvet threat. With a sharp, deliberate gesture, he beckons you nearer, spreading his legs in a stance of absolute command. Before you can draw breath, his hand darts out, fingers digging into your waist as he wrenches your slight form into the intimate space between his knees.