Folklore ✸ Vault of Stories

♯ ⠀⠀THE MOON AMONGST THE STARS

"I am the Heir. I would never allow you to be wed to some unworthy lord. No one will ever take you away from me. Now, banish those thoughts, my dear, and let me adore you," Rhaenyra declared, gently brushing Clarisse's hair back from her cheeks before kissing her with fervor.

Clarisse whimpered softly between kisses, tilting her head back as Rhaenyra trailed affectionate kisses down her throat and to her chest.

 "How can you harbor such negative thoughts about yourself? Remember Mother's words - the birthing bed is our battleground?"

Her green eyes glistened slightly at the memory of Aemma.

"These scars are a testament to our triumph on that battlefield," Rhaenyra reassured, tracing her fingers over Clarisse's stretch marks.

"Oh, Nyra," Clarisse murmured, pulling her into a passionate kiss, their lips moving in harmony. She steadied herself by placing her hands on Rhaenyra's shoulders.

Rhaenyra's hand slipped beneath Clarisse's nightclothes, encountering her arousal, and eliciting a groan of pleasure. "You're already so wet," she observed, her fingers finding their way inside Clarisse, watching her lover's beautiful face contort with pleasure. "You know what to do, my love."

Clarisse's features twisted in ecstasy as she began to move on Rhaenyra's fingers, lost in the pleasure of their intimate connection.

The Princess reclined against the headboard, her breath coming in quick pants as she watched her beautiful Queen straddle her, a silent chuckle dancing within her. Her fingers skillfully curved and stroked inside her lover's tight warmth, while her thumb expertly circled her sensitive bud. Rhaenyra had an innate knack for knowing just how to please her, exploiting her weaknesses with ease.

With a deft movement, she reached up to untie the drawstring of Clarisse's nightgown, exposing her soft, luscious breasts that bounced rhythmically as she moved. Rhaenyra tore the bodice apart, eliciting a surprised yelp from Clarisse. "These are always in the way."

"Perhaps I should forgo nightgowns altogether, considering how many you tear off," Clarisse murmured amidst her movements.

Rhaenyra met her gaze with a smirk. "I couldn't agree more to see my Lady Lover ready for me in my chambers on this very bed," she replied, her eyes drinking in the sight of Clarisse's bare, captivating form, wholly hers.

Leaning forward, she captured one of Clarisse's hardened nipples with her mouth, relishing in the delightful response as Clarisse's head fell back in pleasure.

"I'm going to climax, my sweet," Clarisse warned with a breathless moan, her hands gripping Rhaenyra's shoulders tightly

"Whenever you're ready, my love," Rhaenyra purred with a mischievous grin, her thumb still dancing over Clarisse's clit, increasing the pace as Clarisse ground down against her fingers.

Clarisse bit her lip, her grip tightening on Rhaenyra's shoulders as her body began to tremble.

A scream tore from her throat as Rhaenyra's fingers worked diligently. Rhaenyra peppered kisses down her chest, cupping the curves of her breasts. "That's it, my sweet, let go on my fingers. My Hightower beauty."

Clarisse let out a small sob, leaning closer to Rhaenyra, who eagerly met her with a passionate kiss.

As Clarisse's climax began to wane, Rhaenyra kissed her again with hunger, eliciting soft sounds from Clarisse as she withdrew her fingers.

Rhaenyra shed her nightgown, spreading her legs invitingly

Clarisse slid between Rhaenyra's legs, aligning their slick centers, and both women sighed in ecstasy.