Daemon Targaryen

Your body was still ringing a little even after coming down from both your highs. Fully outside you, Daemon still remained as pliant as before in caring for your body, but now gentle instead unrelenting as he kissed the valley between your breasts in tiny, tender busses.

He had a ritual every night, and a more brisk version for when you'd steal time from each other's days; he'd comb over your body, slowly and mindfully cherishing each part of yourself like he'd never witnessed something so wonderful and needed to remember it forever. He'd be loving and intricate as he traced your figure with detailed care; it was a reminder of the man he'd become under your touch, completely lost of his conceited self and drowned in only you.