Chapter 52 - The Poison, The Plan, The Promise II

Joffrey blew a long breath and glanced at Lord Redwyne, whom he was yet to address. "I trust it won't come to that. Yet, if it must, I won't shy away from it. All of you may leave and start preparing."

The chairs dragged on the floor and all stood up.

"Not you, Lord Redwyne. I have something to discuss with you."

The thin, but tall, freckled, and orange-haired Lord stopped and sat down in his seat again. The discomfort on his face was as apparent as the sun in the sky that day.

But Joffrey proceeded calmly and poured the man a goblet of wine. However, as expected, nobody wanted to touch wine that day.

"Lord Paxter Redwyne," Joffrey started. "The Hightowers are still in decline. Tyrells have led themselves to ruin. That leaves only one major power in Reach, unmatched wealth—two hundred warships, five times merchant carracks—the largest fleet in Westeros. Tell me, Lord Redwyne, are you close with Mace? After all, you wedded his sister. I should imagine today's events struck a rather personal chord, wouldn't you say?"

Paxter Redwyne spoke with a measured tone, each word carefully chosen. "N-No, Your Grace. I am married to his sister, yet we aren't closely acquainted. My house resides upon an island, and thus opportunities for intimacy have always been scarce."

"That's unfortunate," Joffrey mumbled as if reminiscing. "The Tyrells grew too bold for their own good. From the very moment my betrothal to Margaery was declared, we became… intimate. I had insisted she forgo Moon Tea, hoping she would bear me a son. But while I was away, waging war in the North, she had the audacity to pursue Tommen. I suppose I can understand her choice; Tommen is much more… malleable."

Paxter grew more impatient the more Joffrey spoke. He felt as if a sword hung over his neck constantly. Who knew the King might implicate him in the conspiracy?

"That's treasonous, Your Grace."

"It is," Joffrey replied and stood up abruptly. He gave the Lord of Arbor a smile. "You're a good, loyal man, Lord Paxter. Don't you have two sons?"

"Twins," Paxter answered.

Joffrey nodded and started walking away lazily. "Ah, if only you were the Lord Paramount of the Mander, the Warden of the South," he said with a mocking tone. "Then perhaps you might have deigned to aid your second son in establishing a new house. But alas, you are nothing more than a minor lord, and thus, irrelevant."

Paxter gulped and stared at Joffrey's fleeting back. There wasn't much time to make a decision.

"W-What will be needed from me, Your Grace?"

"Hm?" Joffrey turned back right then, smiling. "Nothing much. Just…"

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Joffrey walked into his solar right after the Small Council meeting. He shut the door behind him and soon relaxed down in his chair, slumping a little and closing his eyes. He felt like shouting and cheering for the job well done. But he sadly had no such luxury.

That leaves us the Dorne and the Iron Islands. Joffrey looked at his table, a map of Westeros was etched on it with various sigils of houses added to it. He stared at it from North to South and nodded in great satisfaction.

"Your Grace." A Kingsguard voiced from outside. "Lady Sansa has come to see you."

Ah, my beautiful northern bride. Here to reward me? Joffrey straightened his back, willing to see her beautiful face. "Let her in."

Timidly, Sansa walked into the solar.

"Lock the door," Joffrey ordered.

Sansa did as asked and turned back to the closed door to put the latch in place. "Ah!"

Joffrey chuckled at her yelp as he captured her from behind like a lion on the hunt. His arms slid around her soft belly and pulled her in, while his lips landed on her pale, inviting neck. "I kept my promise, Sansa."

"Your Grace." Sansa tried to turn around while in his embrace.

Joffrey allowed her and noticed her worried expression. But in all honesty, he admired her beauty as well. Ever since she birthed Joanna, the glow on Sansa's face hadn't vanished. Previously thin and very lithe, she now had more refined curves while still slim, and her bust was fuller. It's good to be a king.

"Not happy with it?"

She shook her head frantically, her eyes wide and earnest. "No, no, Your Grace. I-I am so relieved that you're safe and that her wicked plans didn't succeed. I just… I just wanted to tell you that I never knew the necklace had poison in it."

She's worried I'll blame her? Oh, Sansa, you never fail to serve yourself to me on a golden platter. Joffrey erased the smile off his face and pressed her body against the door behind her, squeezing her, his hands already cupping her ass.

"Hmm… But the poison was still found on you," Joffrey leaned into her, bringing his lips to her ears, feeling her nectar-filled breasts against his chest. Both his hands squeezed hard on her soft, feather-like bottom. "You were an essential pawn in the assassination plot."

"Y-Your…"

Joffrey smiled beside her ear, feeling her body shiver against his own. Oh, how much he relished in playing with her. Feeling her all over and draping her sweet, warm neck with wet kisses.

"How am I to punish you, my Sansa?" He asked, finding it convenient that she was still wearing the dress from the wedding. Its deep, wide-cut neckline gave him plenty of liberties. The best part, it was held by merely two hooks on her front.

"Umh… Your Grace…" Sansa felt his heated touch, noticing something probe right below her belly. "A-As you deem fit."

Docile and obedient. Joffrey loved this aspect about her. This is why you're one of my favorites, Sansa.

"Hmm… What if I want to do…" His hands moved fast, tracing upward to her waist, then returning to the front. He made some space between them and opened the two hooks at the front. Without waiting, his hand slid into her dress and captured her soft, swollen breasts. Albeit covered under small clothes, the tenderness felt otherworldly. "This?"

"Oooh…" Sansa gasped at his touch, his palm clasped one of her breasts and squeezed until it leaked. "I… Y-You can… Your Grace."

I know, Sansa. I know… But hearing it from you. Joffrey kissed her lips this time, loving the fact that she was tall enough that it didn't require him to lean down too much. Sweet.

Her utter surrender to him became evident as Joffrey slipped his tongue between her warm, silken lips. His delight heightened when her responses matched his and kissed him back. Faces twisted left and right, pushing and tugging. Their breaths mingled, and Joffrey lost himself in that warmth—the mouth only he could access and at times, fuck.

There was pleasure in whores, but girls like Sansa made Joffrey hungry to feast. His cock sprang to life and probed around her pelvis hard. Yet he wasn't done, not until he fully tasted her.

He moved away from her lips and reached down to her long, pale neck. Showering kisses there, he continued to fondle her breasts, with both hands by now. In doing so, he pushed up her small clothes and claimed her ripe flesh in all their glory.

Lower and lower, Joffrey's lips reached her delicate shoulders, and yet he continued. Soon, he felt the softness of her heaving breasts, and in no time claimed her perky, taut nipples between his lips. His hands cupped them both from the underside, molding the swollen flesh with his palms.

"Aaaah! Mmm…." Sansa squirmed when Joffrey suckled hard on one. Her hands moved on their own and lovingly captured Joffrey's head, fingers tangling through his golden locks. Her body arched backward to rest on the door while Joffrey continued to suckle her breasts with fervor.

Groping them, mauling them to his desired sensitivity, and squeezing them dry until he could feel his throat brimming with the creamy texture of her nectar. Of course, he owned them, and this was his to relish. Sansa was his, and all of her too—that was why Joffrey held her close to heart and cock both.

"And this?"

"Oh!" Sansa bit her lips and nodded. "A-All yours… Mmmh!"

Joffrey chuckled and continued to suckle her breasts dry. Much of the nectar spilled from his lips, but most of it went down to soak his dry lips. No, he didn't like the taste, but the act of doing it, and knowing where it came from made him hard as steel. So much that his lips squeeze the pebble-like nipples intensely, all the while kneading both breasts.

Sansa squirmed the entire time, trying her best to suppress her moans. But her wriggling body was evidence enough of her arousal. Her sensitive spots were being played by her King, and she loved it.

Joffrey eventually grew bored of suckling her breasts, however.

Feeling quite adventurous that day, he tried to reach further down to even taste Sansa's cunt. Sadly, to do that the entire dress needed to be removed.

"On your knees." Joffrey straightened up finally and began lowering his breeches to free his aching erection. "Use your tits too."

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