Chapter 48 - Withering Flowers & Roaring Lions II

Joffrey smirked and gave her just that. He left her breasts and slid his hands to her curvy slender waist, then to the side of her hips. With dancing fingers, he pulled her wedding gown up, bunching it up around her waist. It was tight around her hips and loose around her feet, making it easier the further he went.

But he never left her cold as he showered kisses on her bare neck. His erotic, possessive actions heated Margery up as well, her less-than-innocent whimpers proof enough. Her legs danced as well the more naked they became. There was no backing down now, so she simply accepted this love.

Does she think I'm her husband now? Joffrey was confused internally. Margaery was being too accommodating and accepting. If she knew about the poison, it made more sense for her to try to stay away from him. She doesn't know?

Soon enough, he succeeded in lifting her entire gown above her supple arse. It was annoying as there was just too much cloth between them, but nothing stopped him from relishing her hot flesh.

"Oh, another eye lost!" Joffrey exclaimed as he glanced out of the window. Right at the same time both his hands pushed down her small clothes, making way for the royal consummation he was planning on having.

"Um-hmm…" Margaery, so lost in the moment, kept her lips pressed. Her hands held onto the window frame, slightly leaning forward as she willingly spread her feet apart to aid her husband.

Joffrey smirked at her readiness. Wasting no time, he lowered his breeches to the knees and unleashed his virile cock, hard as steel and ready to slide in. But he chose to wait and merely slid between her firm thighs, brushing past her sodden slit, teasing moans out of her.

"Someone seems thirsty," Joffrey whispered to her ears while hugging her waist tightly against his chest. He began dry humping between her thighs, and she aided him by squeezing her legs together.

Surprisingly, Margaery started panting already. Her back arched, she turned her face towards him and looked at his lips hungrily. "I-I am… For my royal… hu-husband…"

She's not faking it. Joffrey noted her expressions. Why such lust then?

"Then may this royal husband taste his bride?" Joffrey leaned towards her lips as she kept her face sideways. They met in warmth and hot drool, making a mess in an instant. More than Joffrey, it was Margaery's tongue at play. She tasted sweet and fruity somehow, her breath enchanting too.

What does she want?

Joffrey felt he had enough and lowered himself a little to aim his shaft upwards. Margaery seemed to understand and immediately stopped kissing. She leaned forward on the window frame and spread her legs.

Just to make it more humiliating for her, he spat on his palm and coated his cock before thrusting in. Gently, the bulging cockhead spread her tight pussy lips apart. Joffrey kept looking at her shivering back as he filled her more and more.

"Tight… I-ugh…" Joffrey tried to keep talking, but the way Margaery clenched her walls made it hard for him. Her scorching hotness, the grooves of walls against his veiny length. It all combined to make one magnificent wrap of pleasure. "I'm afraid… I'll be addicted to this… cunt!"

"Aaaah!" Margaery howled a moan of delight. The humiliating words from her husband only made it more magical. "Yess~ It's all ah! Yours…"

"No moon tea from now on!" Joffrey slammed himself in at last, to the hilt. He could feel the incredible warmth of her slimy, wet walls. Oh, how much he loved the milking clenches of her cunt.

"Day and night… I'll be needing your service."

"Oouhhh!" Margaery jolted on her toes, unable to control herself with his cock refusing to escape. She felt stretched to the limit, so full, so deep inside. Her head almost slammed onto the window frame as she leaned further down, eyes clenched in pleasure. "Aaaas~ You-oh wish… Your Grace!"

Before following up with the main course, Joffrey began moving his hips. He slid out fast and to the tip, but as he thrusted back in he went painfully slow. Every single inch of her cunt, every little bump, the throb of his cock, the pulsation of her insides, a treat of sensory overload drowned their mind.

But Margaery tried to push herself back and take him in with a quick shove.

This smirking whore. Joffrey stopped her with his hands and kept up with the slow motion. His pulls were always fast but the pushes forced her to crave being fucked like a whore.

"Wife, I have something to ask," Joffrey began, his voice dripping with arrogance, slowly leading her to confront something. He paid no heed to the savage beating Oberyn was enduring outside—it was a job well executed. "I heard Lady Olenna is suggesting a union between Loras and my widowed mother."

"Ummm… Yes… It's an idea, my love~" Margaery confessed.

Too bad for you, that whore's only interested in incest. Joffrey internally chuckled.

As a reward, he drove into her cunt a little faster this time. But still, it made Margaery's knees go weak, her insides boiled in heat and throbs as her climax neared. Her fists clenched harder, as did her teeth.

Meanwhile, Oberyn seemed to have folded as well, leaving the Mountain the victor and preparing for the next and the last battle of his life.

"Aaaah! Please, Your Grace!" Margaery cried all of a sudden.

"Please what?" He asked.

Margaery felt ashamed, never having used vile words with men. "P-Please… Just fuck me! H-harder-aaaah!"

Like a beast, Joffrey slammed his cock in at full speed this time, resounding a sharp clap in the room. But then he slowed down again. "Like that?"

"Yes yes yessss… Just like tha-Oooh I'm so close!"

But Joffrey had no intention of granting her that pleasure. He didn't plan on prolonging their encounter, knowing he'd spill in her quickly once he made up his mind. For now, it was more of an interrogation. "What's Olenna scheming? From what I recall, Loras has always been more interested in cocks than cunts. Wasn't that why Renly never put his seed in you?"

Pa!

Joffrey thrust hard this time, claiming her cunt to the cervix. But he refused to pull out this time, knowing well she was having erotic convulsions of climax. He refused her the pleasure. "What's Olenna planning by getting him married to my Mother then?"

Margaery, eyes watery, face red from the arousal, just hummed in reply.

"Speak, my love." He persisted.

"N-Nothing, Your Grace. Our two houses will be closer th–is way."

So the whore can lie. Joffrey was no fool. The Tyrells' plan was easy to guess. Once they killed him, controlling Tommen with Margaery's cunt was the easiest part. But until they took away Cersei, Tommen would always remain compromised. So, taking Cersei to Highgarden as Loras' bride was the simplest option.

"I hope you're right, my lovely wife." Joffrey picked up the pace at last. Thrusting with wilder thirst, only aiming to get it done as quickly as possible. "You know I hate it, don't you?"

Plap! Plap!

The wet squelches echoed in the room by then. Margaery had already climaxed on his pumping shaft, coating it with her slippery nectar until the sticky residue dribbled out with his movements.

"W-What, Your Grace?"

Joffrey scoffed and hugged her body around her shoulders. He pulled her leaning body back against his chest and fondled her breasts all the while fucking her to his pleasure. "I hate those who ruin… ugh my plans!"

"Oh, ooooh!" Margaery lost herself at that point. Powerless, her cunt stretched and filled, while her breasts molded under her husband's palms. The scent of their sex finally reached their noses, intoxicating further in pleasure.

Fast, deep, hard—Joffrey kept on the same rhythm all the way until he felt an itch in his balls. Noticing his climax was nearing, he pulled out of her sore petals and roughly turned her around. "Let me-eh see your face!"

For the last time as I fuck you, my whore.

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