“Yes my tight little slut. That’s right. Cum for me. Let me hear you. I want people to know who’s fucking this tight pussy and making you scream...” His voice was deeper, rougher, as his hips slammed harder into me. He was closer too, I could feel it. He was swelling hard and big inside of me, his movements still smooth, eager to get me off. I shut my eyes and he hissed, and we both let go. I shouted his name, loudly, gushing wetly around him, soaking his cock. He groaned mine in return, flooding. No one in their right mind would connect Robert Arryn and the concept of strength without putting in some form of negation.A blinding light flashed before Lyonel Baratheons eyes, after which the beds occupant knew exactly what Jon Arryn meant by his last words. Not because he had an epiphany, but instead because the beds occupant was no longer Lyonel Baratheon. Not really. His meticulously sculptured body still remained, fear not, but unbeknownst to anyone of this world, the person inhabiting. More

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