GOT: The Golden Lion

"What choice do we have?" Joffrey sneered, eyes flicking to each face at the table—Tywin, Ser Arthur, Val, Arya. "She came with a dragon. Big enough to fly on, big enough to burn the city to ash. If I flee for King's Landing, I'll be branded her enemy before a word leaves my mouth."

"Take me with you, Your Grace," Ser Arthur requested.

"She'll kill you, and I can't have that. If it comes to this, then I'll go myself and speak with her. If I can't bring her to our side, then ruling the Seven Kingdoms is nothing more than a dream. When she arrives with her dragons, there won't be an army left that can stand in her way."

Joffrey looked at his grandfather's face. The old lion didn't seem affected in the slightest. His grandson, the famous Golden Lion, was going to face a dragon.

He probably thinks I have a plan. Joffrey thought and sighed inside. I had one… But not this early.

"Ser Arthur, have a ship readied, and a small boat at hand," Joffrey commanded, rising with a sharp look. "I'll set sail for the Orange Shore at once. This is simply another obstacle, but one that will be faced. Daenerys is the last threat to my throne, and I intend to see her defeated."

How that was going to happen remained a mystery. But, nobody asked him any questions. Nobody stopped him as he stormed out of the meeting and returned to his private, spacious, luxurious bedchamber.

"W-What are you… doing here?" Joffrey halted in his steps as soon as he entered his room. The High Priestess, Kinvara, was standing inside, facing him as if she knew exactly when he'd enter. Her all-knowing gray, large eyes peered at him as if looking into his soul. Her red, soft lips maintained a constant kind smile.

"The dragons roar, and so must the lion," Kinvara intoned, her voice a silken whisper that seemed to weave through the air like smoke. As she approached Joffrey, her deep-cut neckline revealed the smooth ivory of her skin, a striking contrast to the red gown. "Fear not, Your Grace, for you are the chosen of the Lord of Light. His magic tames the dragons, while your very being defies the fabric of reality. It is inevitable—the union of roars."

Joffrey frowned, seeing her words as nothing but fanatic rambling. "Your words do little to inspire confidence, High Priestess. The Lord of Light may be powerful, but he dwells in a realm far removed from ours. His fire is just a tool, while the flames I face will consume me."

Kinvara finally stopped a mere distance of a foot between their bodies. She looked up at his face, her gaze sparkling with fanatic confidence. Her beauty was otherworldly, enchanting even, for she received the King's undivided attention. "Then allow me…"

Her hands rose and landed on Joffrey's muscled, tunic-covered chest. She caressed him as if feeling his body.

Danger… I only see danger in her. Joffrey, although entranced by her beauty, saw through her wise gaze that held vast magical knowledge. A riddle I'm not interested in uncovering.

"Allow what?" He asked.

Kinvara slid her hands up to his neck, fingers grazing his cheekbones. "Let me help you, grant you the shield you so need for what lies ahead. She was born with the gift, but your blood... lacks such fortune. Permit me to pray for you, Your Grace."

Pray? Joffrey sighed and nodded. He did need a lot of luck for his risky plan ahead. I can use the Lord of Light's blessing.

"Then pray."

Kinvara smiled and took one step back. While keeping her eyes locked with Joffrey, she slid her fingers under the neckline of her gown where the shoulders started. Then, she pulled her gown apart, enough for it to slide down from the silken skin of her arms.

"I shall pray for you," she said, her voice as if a tantric chant.

Her hands moved continuously, sliding her gown down from her naked, voluptuous, and firm bust, slipping both her arms out before pushing down from her tight waist, followed by the wider but slender hips.

The red gown soon pooled around her spotless, pale ankles. Her entire nakedness lay bare in all its glory; with the milky smooth thighs and the gap between the junction where her hairless, smooth, rosey love hole was—tight and hidden between the plump pussy lips.

Joffrey maintained control over his mind and body, aware of the dangers. "Is this how you pray?"

"Only by joining our mortal bodies can I pass onto you the protection you seek, Your Grace," Kinvara claimed and returned to Joffrey's chest, closer than before this time, her dark hair cascading around her head. Her plump soft breasts invited him, the large, pink nipples and the similarly painted wide areolas decorated her divine body well. "You must enter me and claim it."

She wants to be shagged? Joffrey avoided looking at her tits and focused on her face, not that it helped him much. He still felt rock solid, hard in his loins.

"You want me to fuck you?"

"It's a ritual, Your Grace. Beyond mere common intimacy," Kinvara replied, and gently pressed on Joffrey's chest, pushing him back towards the bed. "Through this, you will be brought closer to the warmth of the Lord of Light. I, his First Servant, am here to kindle that flame within you… Now rest, Your Grace. Leave yourself to me, and I shall guide you to the light."

The bedsheets rustled under Joffrey's weight as he landed on his back on the bed, his legs still dangling. He watched as Kinvara used her slender fingers to unbutton his tunic, pushing it up until his abs were revealed. Then, she removed his breeches entirely, leaving him naked and erect.

In no time, Joffrey lay there bare on the bed, slid back up fully on the bedding, head on the pillow. He watched as Kinvara crawled into the bed, as naked as him. But unlike his muscled form, she looked soft and noble, her skin pale as the moon, her shimmering eyes so beautiful in that brightly lit room.

"Let me prepare you, Your Grace."

Kinvara knelt beside his waist and leaned in, landing a wet kiss on his belly. But instead of going down, she went up towards his chest, licking his nipples. Her hand reached for his hard length at the same time, the strokes began instantly. Long, slow, with her thumb gyrating on the tip.

It felt dry as her hand rubbed across his considerable length, the thickness enough to leave her fingers unable to hold him in a fist. But she continued, raising him to the peak of his erection.

"Your Grace… Please take my breasts between your lips." Kinvara requested and slid against him, bringing her magnificent breasts near his face, while she still reached for his cock with her hand, stroking it harder.

Her tits? Joffrey looked at the fruits dangling near his face. They looked so perfect and round that he licked his lips before raising his head a little. Using both hands to cup them together, he felt their warmth with delight and then opened his mouth to take the protruding pink nipples.

He suckled like a child, kneading them, pressing his face into them. Such heavenly softness, the warmth unmatched. He could feel the beating of her heart matching the stroking of his cock.

"Aaah~" Kinvara moaned when Joffrey teethed, grinding the nipples between his teeth one at a time. She could feel his spit smothering her breasts whole, coating them with the glistening fluid. "P-Please… suckle harder—Oh, in the name of the Lord of Light, I beg yo-oh! I beg R'hllor—I am your loyal vassal, your First Servant—Bless this man through my womb, for he shall save this world from doom—I…"

Joffrey heard her rambling chants and continued to suckle her breasts to his heart's desire. But just when he changed his target to her other breast, he paused.

No, he froze right there and then.

I-I can taste something… sweet?

"K-Ke-Keep it in your mouth!" Kinvara guided, her moans suppressed. She pressed her breasts harder on his mouth to make him suckle hard.

What in the Seven's name is this? Joffrey felt the warm liquid gush into his mouth. Although sweet, he dared not swallow it, fearing it might hold poison.

"Let me… take it." Kinvara pulled her breasts back from him suddenly and replaced them with her own succulent lips. She sealed herself tight on Joffrey's mouth and suckled back, taking the nectar from her breasts into her own mouth, and holding it there.

Their messy, panting breaths mingled together. Kinvara kept going, digging into his mouth with her tongue, all the while sucking back whatever he had drawn from her teats. She kept at it for a long time, as if ensuring not a single drop remained in him.

"Ummh~" She let out a moanful breath from her nose and broke the wet kiss. Quickly, she turned towards Joffrey's cock, and lowered her face, tightly sliding his length between her clenched lips, drowning his manhood with the nectar she had kept in her mouth.

Lower, and lower, she kept gobbling his length slowly, taking his size with such ease that Joffrey watched with his head raised, amused and confused. He could see the faint white droplets, so it was certainly milk from her teats.

What bloody ritual is this?

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