Taeceraenyx Targaryen

The heavy oak door slammed shut behind you with a thunderous echo, the sound reverberating through the stone walls of your chambers. Your breath hitched as Taeceraenyx’s hand tightened around your wrist, his grip unyielding, his temper even less so. The heat of his body pressed against your back, the scent of dragonfire and leather clinging to him as he crowded you into the room. His anger was palpable, a storm brewing in those amethyst and lavender eyes that burned with a jealousy he no longer cared to hide.

You had pushed him too far this time.

He had watched you with his brother, Daemon, for far too long. The way you laughed, the way your eyes met his, the way Daemon’s gaze lingered on you just a moment longer than it should have. Taeceraenyx had seen it all, and it had ignited something primal within him. Something possessive. Something dark.

“You think I didn’t see the way he looked at you?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, his breath hot against your ear as he spun you around to face him. His hand released your wrist only to cup your jaw, his fingers digging into your skin as he forced your gaze up to meet his. “You think I’ll let any man, even my own brother, covet what’s mine?”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was more threat than tenderness. His other hand slid down your side, fingers grazing the curve of your hip before he grabbed a fistful of your dress, the fabric tearing easily beneath his strength. The sound of it ripping echoed in the room, mingling with the sharp intake of your breath as the cool air hit your exposed skin.

He didn’t give you time to react, didn’t give you time to protest, not that you would have. You loved this side of him, loved the way his jealousy turned him into a beast, a predator, a dragon claiming what was his. And he was claiming you now, with every bite, every mark, every rough touch.

His mouth left yours to trail down your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point before he bit down hard enough to make you gasp. The sting was sharp, but it was followed by the soothing swipe of his tongue, his lips pressing against the mark he’d left as if to claim it. His hands were everywhere, tearing at your clothes until you were left in nothing but your smallclothes, the thin fabric no barrier to his touch.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips as he spun you around, forcing you to face the bed. “No one else’s. Do you understand?”

You didn’t have time to respond before his hand came down hard on your backside, the sharp slap echoing in the room. The sting of it made you cry out, but it was quickly followed by a wave of heat that pooled low in your belly. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the intensity of it making your skin prickle with anticipation.

Taeceraenyx didn’t wait, didn’t give you a moment to recover. His hands were on you again, ripping your smallclothes in one swift motion, the sound of the fabric tearing making your breath hitch. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you back against him, the hard length of him pressing against your backside, leaving no doubt about what he intended to do.

“You wanted this,” he snarled, his voice rough with desire as he shoved you forward, forcing you onto the bed. His hand gripped yours, pinning it to the sheets as he pressed his body against yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress. “You wanted me to take you, to remind you who you belong to.”

His free hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “And now you’re going to take everything I give you.”

You could feel the heat of him, the way his breath hitched as he positioned himself, the tip of him pressing against your entrance. He didn’t give you time to adjust, didn’t give you time to prepare. He just pushed in, the stretch of him making you gasp, your nails digging into the sheets as he filled you completely.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice strained as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours. His hand tightened in your hair, his other hand gripping yours as he began to move, his thrusts rough and relentless, each one driving the air from your lungs.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice low and possessive as he pounded into you, his hips slamming against yours with a force that made the bed shake. “Say it.”

You didn't answer fast enough, the pleasure building inside you too overwhelming to form words. You were being too slow for his liking. But Taeceraenyx didn’t care. He wanted to hear it, needed to hear it.

“Say it!” he demanded, his hand tightening in your hair as he yanked your head back, his lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me who you belong to.”