A Life in Westeros
Chapter 7 - Part 2
The news of the quiet engagement spread through the Red Keep like a fever, a whisper that began in the servant's passages and ended in the solar of the royal family. Lords and ladies, bored with the slow pace of peace, took delight in the scandal of it—a Frey, a cadet branch, marrying a proud dust of the North. The congratulations were polite, the smiles practiced, but the eyes were hungry, watching Adian and Barbrey like hawks circling a fresh kill.
Cersei sat at the high table, her face a mask of porcelain perfection, but her mind was a blank, static-filled void. *Engaged,* she thought, the word echoing in her skull like a hammer striking stone. *Engaged to that widow. To that Northern cow.*
She watched Adian and Barbrey slip away from the feast, moving with the practiced ease of conspirators into the shadows of the corridor. The moment their figures disappeared behind a tapestry, Cersei stood. She smoothed her gown, forced a smile onto her lips, and followed. Her heart hammered against her ribs, not from fear, but from a dark, coiling heat that had nothing to do with the wine she'd drunk.
They found a secluded alcove near the lower gardens, a place hidden from the main thoroughfares but open to the moonlight. Adian turned to her, his expression a mixture of triumph and predatory hunger.
"Let's celebrate this final day," he said, his voice a low growl that seemed to vibrate in the damp air.
He didn't wait. He didn't kiss her. He simply shoved her shoulders, forcing her down to her knees on the cold stone. "Open your mouth."
Barbrey didn't hesitate. She obeyed instantly, her face upturned, her lips parted, waiting for his cock.
Adian undid his breeches with a rough jerk, his cock springing free, a thick, veined column of flesh that throbbed with a life of its own. He didn't tease. He gripped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her dark hair, and thrust forward.
{R-18 Scene Adian x Barbrey Dustin 2256 Full Word Count aFireFist on p.a.t.r.e.o.n}
Adian stood over the unconscious form of Barbrey Dustin, her body a tangled mess of sweat and spent passion, her face pressed into the cool grass. His eyes narrowing as he scanned the shadows of the garden. He knew she was there. He could smell the musk of her arousal, a thick, sweet scent that clung to the air even over the smell of sex and night-blooming flowers.
"Cersei," he called out, his voice cutting through the silence, low and dangerous. "The Queen of Love and Beauty. I see you've been a very good little voyeur."
From the darkness, a figure emerged. Queen Cersei Lannister. Her gown was slightly disheveled, her hair a wild tangle around her face, and her eyes were wide, dark pools of unfocused lust. She stood there for a moment, trembling, her hand pressed hard against her crotch, her body betraying her regal composure. She looked at Adian, then down at the unconscious woman at his feet, and then back at him, her lips parted in a breathless gasp.
"Look at you," Adian said, stepping closer, his boots crunching on the gravel. "Voluptuous. Sinful. Your body is heavy with the promise of life, ripe for breeding, ripe for being taken." He
gestured to the damp spot on her silk skirts. "And look at this. Dripping. You've been watching us and you've been touching yourself, haven't you? You're hungry, Cersei. Hungry for a cock that can actually satisfy you."
He didn't wait for an answer. He didn't give her a chance to compose herself. He pointed a finger at the dirt at his feet.
"Crawl," he commanded.
Cersei's eyes widened, but she didn't hesitate. The Future Queen of Westeros, the woman who would soon be married to a king, dropped to her hands and knees and crawled across the grass toward him. The sight was degrading, a stark contrast to the haughty queen she pretended to be, but she did it willingly, driven by a desperate, primal need.
She reached him and looked up, her face flushed, her eyes pleading. "Yes, Adian," she whispered. "Use me."
Adian grabbed his cock, still glistening with the evidence of his time with Barbrey. He held it out to her, the head heavy and purple. "Clean it," he ordered, his voice rough. "Lick the taste of that Northern slut off my cock. Taste her ass. Taste her filth."
Cersei leaned forward, her tongue darting out to touch the tip. The taste was shocking—salty, musky, and distinctly anal. But she didn't pull away. She opened her mouth and took him in, her lips wrapping around the shaft, her tongue working to clean every drop. She sucked him greedily, her head bobbing, her throat working to swallow the remnants of Barbrey's essence mixed with his own seed.
"Good," he groaned, his hand tangling in her golden hair, forcing her head back. "That's it. You're a good little bitch, aren't you? Licking another woman's filth off my cock."
As she cleaned him, Adian began to degrade her, his words cutting through the fog of her lust. "Look at you, Cersei. You're about to marry Robert. A pig. A drunk. He's already whoring around, isn't he? I hear he makes the women roleplay as Lyanna Stark. He wants to fuck the ghost of a dead girl while he's inside a living one. How does that make you feel? Enraged? Jealous?"
Cersei pulled back, gasping for air, her eyes filled with tears of humiliation and rage. "He's a fool," she spat, her voice trembling. "He doesn't deserve me. He doesn't deserve a queen."
"And your brother?" Adian continued, his thumb rubbing against her cheek. "Jaime. The Kingslayer. He's a pretty boy. He's a knight. But he can't give you what I can. He can't break you. I'm the only one who can truly satisfy you. The only one who can make you feel full."
"I've seen you with my aunt Genna countless times," she whispered, her hand reaching out to stroke his thigh. "I've seen you with other women. Do they even matter? I don't care. I want to be bred by you, Adian. I want you to fill me with your seed until I'm round with your bastard."
"I want that," she whispered, her hand reaching out to stroke his thigh. "I want your children. I want to be yours. Please, Adian. Breed me."
She looked up at him with desperate, hungry eyes. "I don't care about Robert. I don't care about Jaime. I care about you. You're the only one who truly sees me. The only one who can handle me."
She opened her mouth wider, her tongue darting out to worship the monstrous cock that had just ruined another woman. "I worship this," she whispered, her voice thick with adoration. "This dirty, magnificent thing. It's the only thing I want inside me."
After she cleaned him thoroughly, she pulled back, her lips swollen and red. She looked at him, her body trembling with anticipation. She turned around, presenting her ass to him, her back arched, her cheeks spread. "Please," she begged. "Take me. Take this. My ass. My body. It's yours. Ripe for breeding. Ripe for being taken."
Adian didn't even look at her. He didn't move toward her. Instead, he turned his attention back to the unconscious Barbrey. He reached down and scooped her up into his arms, lifting her effortlessly. He looked down at Cersei, his expression cold and indifferent.
"Maybe another time," he said, his voice flat. "She's the prize tonight. She's the one I chose."
Cersei's heart sank. She felt a wave of frustration and heartbreak. She was standing there, offering herself, and he was ignoring her. She wanted to scream, to demand his attention, but she held back, the humiliation burning through her.
Then, Adian spoke again. "But tomorrow, Cersei. Tomorrow morning."
He turned and walked away, carrying Barbrey toward the townhouse, leaving Cersei alone in the garden.
"Tomorrow morning," he called back over his shoulder, his voice carrying on the wind. "Wear your wedding dress. Come to my chambers. Offer yourself up to me."
Cersei stood frozen for a moment, her heart shattering, then piecing itself back together. She felt a strange, electric thrill course through her veins. He had chosen her. He had set aside tonight, but he had marked her for tomorrow.
She looked down at her dripping pussy, the heat between her legs intensifying. She was heartbroken that her worship wasn't enough to get fucked right now, but she beamed at the idea. She was determined to be bred by him. She was going to be the mother of Adian's children, regardless of who she married or who she was queen to. She watched him walk away, her eyes locked on his retreating figure, and she knew, with absolute certainty, that she would be there tomorrow, waiting for him to take her.
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