#Hamptons limousine

[limoservicehampton]

Finding the Perfect Limousine Assistance

The Hamptons, an attractive paradise on Long Island South Fork, is synonymous with luxury, elegance, and style. Whether you’re planning a winery tour, attending a wedding, or simply need reliable airport transportation, hiring the right limousine or car service can elevate your experience. Here’s why choosing the perfect Hamptons Limo Service is essential and what to look for in a provider.

Why Hire a Limousine Assistant in the Hamptons?

Benefit and Comfort

Traveling the Hamptons’ busy summer streets or making your way from one event to another can be stressful. A professional limousine service allows you to relax, travel in style, and arrive at your destination refreshed.

Punctuality

Time is a luxury, and top-achieving car services understand the importance of prompt arrivals. Professional chauffeurs ensure you’re never late, whether it’s for flights or a special event.

Luxury

From large care to executive transportation, Hamptons limo services offer a range of vehicles that blend sophistication with comfort. These vehicles often come with premium characteristics like leather interiors, a complete package, and Wi-Fi.

Safety and Competence

When you book a limousine service, you gain the assurance of skilled drivers familiar with local routes. This ensures both safety and efficiency, allowing you to enjoy your trip without trouble.

Top Services to Think About

If you're looking for dependable transporting in the Hamptons, here are some services that stand out:

Hamptons Car:

A thorough-service provider specializing in wine tours and luxury airport transportation.

East Hampton Car Assistance:

Known for their executive black cars and sedans, perfect for corporate meetings or airport transportation.

Southampton Limo Firm:

Contributing customized packages for weddings, prom nights, and special events.

Hamptons Important Ride:

A versatile service catering to group travel, with vehicles spanning from sprinter vans to luxury stretch limousines.

Popular Occasions for Limo Assistance

Wine Tours

Explore the North Fork or Hamptons’ grapevines in a chauffeured limousine, enjoying tastings without the worry of driving.

Weddings and More

Make a grand entrance on your special day with a luxury limousine. Many companies also offer tailored packages to meet your wedding necessities.

Airport Transportation

Whether flying into JFK, LaGuardia, or Islip, limo services ensure smooth transfers to and from the Hamptons with luggage assistance and timely pick-ups.

Corporate Meeting

Impress your clients or colleagues with luxury transportation that reflects professionalism and trustworthiness.

Choosing the Right Limousine Assistance

When selecting a car service, consider the following factors:

Fleet of Vehicles:

Ensure the business offers the type of vehicle you need, from class sedans to stretch limousines.

Reputation:

Read reviews and testimonials to measure the quality of service.

Pricing:

Transparent pricing and no hidden fees are signs of a truthful provider.

Available Within 15 Minutes:

Make sure the company can accommodate your schedule and destination necessity.

Contact With the Best of the Hamptons

Whether it’s for a winery tour, a wedding, or simply exploring the scenery of East End, a limousine service adds a touch of elegance and ease to your journey. Companies in Southampton ensure you travel in luxury, offering unforgettable experiences tailored to your necessities.

Explore the Hamptons in style and make every moment memorable with professional limousine services. After all, nothing complements the charm of the Hamptons better than the luxuriousness of a premium ride.

[hamptonsviprid]

Book now for an Unforgettable Luxurious Ride

Celebrate luxury with Hamptons Limo Service and Hamptons Limousine, your premier choice for impeccable transportation in the Hamptons. Indulge in sophistication and comfort as our professional chauffeurs ensure a seamless experience tailored to your needs. From stylish corporate events to extravagant celebrations, trust us for punctuality, elegance, and unparalleled service. Elevate your journey with our fleet of premium vehicles. Experience the epitome of Hamptons luxury – choose Hamptons Limo Service and Hamptons Limousine for a distinctive travel experience. Book now for an unforgettable ride in sophistication.

[hamptonsvipride]

Indulge in Island luxury with our Shelter Island car service. We offer exclusive, chauffeur-driven rides for a seamless and elegant travel experience. Book your ride today!

[hamptonschauffeur]

Hamptons Chauffeur Services offers first-rate transportation that is easy to customize to your needs. Our range of opulent cars and SUVs ensures comfortable, dependable, and reasonably priced transportation. North Fork (Jamesport, Mattituck, Cutchogue, Greenport), Westhampton, Hampton Bays, Southampton, Water Mill, Bridgehampton, Sag Harbor, East Hampton, Quogue, Sagaponack, and Shelter Island are just a few of the places we serve. Whether you're going to a large airport or New York City, we guarantee a seamless and first-rate service from beginning to end.

[famousdrive]

Luxury Car Service in Los Angeles: Elevate Your Travel Experience

Los Angeles, the city of dreams and glamour, demands transportation that mirrors its sophistication. For those seeking a travel experience that transcends the ordinary, luxury car services in Los Angeles offer an unparalleled solution. In this article, we explore the key features, benefits, available models, safety measures, affordability, and the unique charm of opting for a luxury car service in the city of angels.

Introduction

Los Angeles, with its sprawling landscapes and iconic destinations, sets the stage for a lifestyle that embraces luxury. Whether you're a resident navigating the city or a visitor exploring its wonders, the need for refined transportation is evident. Luxury car services in Los Angeles go beyond mere conveyance; they embody a statement of style and exclusivity.

Key Features of Luxury Car Service in Los Angeles

Exquisite Fleet of Vehicles

At the heart of luxury car services in Los Angeles lies a fleet of exquisite vehicles. From sleek sedans to glamorous SUVs, these services boast an impressive lineup that caters to the diverse preferences of clients.

Professional Chauffeurs with Local Expertise

Navigating the bustling streets of Los Angeles requires more than just driving skills—it demands local expertise. Professional chauffeurs, well-versed with the city's nuances, ensure a seamless and stress-free journey for passengers.

Punctuality and Reliability

In a city where time is a precious commodity, luxury car services pride themselves on punctuality and reliability. Arrive at your destination not just in style but also right on schedule.

Benefits of Luxury Car Service in Los Angeles

Unmatched Comfort and Style

Luxury car services redefine comfort and style. From plush interiors to cutting-edge technology, each ride becomes an experience in opulence, making your journey as memorable as the destination.

Stress-Free Travel in LA Traffic

The notorious Los Angeles traffic can be a source of stress, but not when you opt for a luxury car service. Sit back, relax, and let the chauffeur handle the intricacies of navigating the city's thoroughfares.

Time Efficiency

Time is of the essence in Los Angeles, and luxury car services understand this perfectly. Swift and efficient, these services allow you to make the most of your valuable time.

Popular Luxury Car Models Available

Diverse Range of Options

Luxury car services in Los Angeles understand the need for variety. Whether you prefer the sophistication of a classic sedan or the spaciousness of an SUV, there's a model to suit every taste.

Customization for Every Occasion

Each journey is unique, and luxury car services acknowledge this by offering customization options. Tailor your ride for special occasions, ensuring every moment is celebrated in style.

Safety Measures Implemented

Advanced Safety Features

Safety is a top priority for luxury car services. State-of-the-art safety features in their vehicles provide passengers with a secure and comfortable travel experience.

Professional Chauffeurs' Commitment to Safety

Chauffeurs undergo rigorous training, not just in driving skills but also in adhering to strict safety protocols. Your well-being is the chauffeur's foremost concern.

[legendslimonyc]

At Legends #Limousine Worldwide our #chauffeurs are always dressed to impress. Let us cater your next #wedding, #prom, or corporate event & experience the first-class service that you deserve.

Reserve your ride at www.legendslimousine.com or call 1-888-LEGENDS now.

#RideLegendary

[mingyusprettyprincess]

00 | The Condè Family - Against The World [ KIM MINGYU ]

Genre: Erotic Romance/ Dark Romance/ CEO AU/ Thriller/ Suspense/ Mystery/ Curvy Latina Reader x CEO Mingyu/ Introverted Reader/

WARNINGS: Explicit language/ Troubled Past/ Trauma/ Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse/ Dark themes (EX: Strip Clubs, Underground pleasure houses/Moulin Rouge, Gaslighting, manipulation & Sexual abuse)/ Cheating & affairs/ Toxicity/ Heavy&dark Sex Scenes/ Daddy Issues/ Kinky Sex Scenes/ Mentions of BDSM/!Reader is a Moulin Rouge dancer!/ CITY IS SOMEWHAT INSPIRED BY GOTHAM CITY & INSPIRED BY MARVEL’S NEW YORK CITY!! THE CITY MENTIONED IN FIC IS NOT A REAL CITY! IT’S A CITY CREATED BY WRITER (ME)!

Not proofread! 😭 trying to post this part before going into work.

Word Count: 1618K

🎧Now playing -> (Intro OST) Feel It - Ayesha Erotica + Sway - Dean Martin + Let’s Fall In Love - Amy Hampton Callaway + Baby I’m A Fool - Melody Gardot + Put Your Head On My Shoulder - Michael Bublé + Dirty Little Secret - Nessa Barrett

Camera flashes were blinding the eyes of every guest arriving at the Colucci Villa, reporters throwing questions left and right. My footsteps falter as I make my way to the back doors, “Mr. Kim! Over here!” Reporters push and shove one another as one of the guests of honor steps foot out of the black limousine. I exhale and open the door quickly before any reporters on the side catch a glimpse of me.

I fan myself before walking towards the grand staircase, “Must you always use the back doors?” Noah asks as he waits patiently on top. I roll my eyes and walk up the stairs, “Yes I must. Bethany, Darcy, Nic, and you are on the front cover of magazines with Mother and Father whereas I remain hidden.” I said with a soft smile. Noah sighs in annoyance, “Why must you hide your identity? Aren't you tired of hiding?” He asks.

I shake my head as we walk further into the villa, “Not at all, I would still like to be able to live a normal life and not be known as a Conde.” I said. Noah hums softly as we enter the main hall, “Well it won't be long before someone catches a single glimpse of you.” He implies. I fix the sleeves of the black blazer, letting my gaze wander around the room.

Endless people dressed in brands and high-class jewels, not quite fond of the world of high class or status. I bite my bottom lip as I take one of the champagne glasses from the tray, events like these are just a buzz kill for me. I caught my mother’s eye, I could already see her distaste for my option of clothing in them. I flash her a sweet smile before taking a small sip of the bubbling drink, today’s event is a Fund Raising Charity.

I did come dressed for the occasion, a dark red mid-thigh velvet dress hugging my body with a little bit of cleavage on display. But the black Chanel blazer made it look more elegant and business casual, with a pair of red-bottomed Louboutin.

I walk around the venue as I try to kill time, “The Colucci Family is indeed the most high-class people, I mean they own half of the businesses in Bezauri.” Gossip here. I drink more of the champagne, “I heard Mr. Kim is a guest of honor for this event.” Gossip there. Gossip is around everywhere, I shake my head lightly and look at one of the paintings on display.

I could hear everyone go quiet and whisper as the doors of the villa hall opened, I bit my bottom lip as I kept my gaze on the painting. A painting that has become my favorite out of the twenty-five hundred paintings, a painting created by a little to no-fame artist. I bring the rim to my lips only to realize the glass is empty, I exhale softly and turn around.

Fixing my posture I look around for the champagne tray, “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I appreciate you all for taking the time off to join me in this good deed event.” Mr. Colucci announces. Everyone falls silent as they give their full attention to the man, the host of the event. “Champagne ma’am?” A waiter comes by with a tray, I smile faintly and replace the empty glass with a full one. “Thank you,” I said as he walked off.

Mr. Colucci goes off about the paintings being the main event, an auction will be held tonight. I eye the painting I’ve stared at, maybe I could get Noah to buy it from Mr. Colucci. “Please enjoy the finest champagne and appetizers, the auction will start shortly.” Mr. Colucci says with a smile as he holds his glass towards the crowd, I let a small scoff escape my lips.

I bring the glass to my lips as jazz music fills the venue, drinking the champagne I spot a slight movement in the corner of my eyes. Annoyance fills me noticing it’s my mother, “Two glasses of champagne shall be fine for tonight,” She says taking the empty glass from my gasp. I sigh softly and cross my arms, “Didn’t I say to wear the dress I left on the bed?” Mother whispers. “Oh please ma that dress was too much.” I said I turned my gaze to the group of women gossiping.

“This is serious Y/N, you're a Conde now and that means meeting with the status.” Mother reminds me, and I roll my eyes. “I like to keep myself behind your shadows ma, remember I’m only saving the family from embarrassment,” I said softly as people walked past us. Mother sighs and nods, “Alright then since you seem to know what you're doing, I pray that I don't see your name on any magazine with vulgar scandals.” She warned me before rejoining my father.

I glance at the gossiping group of women surrounding a tall man dressed in a burgundy red suit, I bite my bottom lip and walk off to the paintings.

I walk around the venue eyeing the paintings and taking a moment to appreciate the art, a soft chuckle escapes my lips as Michael Bublé plays faintly. I sigh softly and walk over to the next painting, few people seemed to be here for the art and not for status. I look at the time on my phone, seven-thirty pm. I let out a small huff of breath, “Enjoying yourself?” I turn to look at the owner of the soft voice. I smile faintly, the same tall man that the group of women had trapped. “Somewhat,” I said, he chuckles lightly.

I turn my gaze back to the painting, “You must be one of the Condés,” He says softly. I look at him perplexed, “I-I-how did you know?” I asked curious. The man smiles, what a sweet smile. “It’s somewhat part of my job to know everyone on the guest list.” He says I nod in acknowledgment. “I didn't quite catch your name Mr?” I ask, the tall man smiles once more. “Kim Mingyu,” He holds his hand, oh boy.

Kim Mingyu, funder of FLORE is one of the honored guests. “Y/N Condé,” I said shaking his hand, “I take it you're not a fan of these sorts of events?” He asks letting go of my hand. I chuckle, “You are correct, but I was brought here against my will.” I said. Mingyu laughs softly, I smile sheepishly. My eyes wander at his sun-kissed skin, it's natural. I mean, of course, it's natural there’s no way a man will tan himself like most women do.

“Admiring the art before the auction?” His voice invades my thoughts, “Huh? Oh yes, I like art so at least this is keeping me from being bored to death.” I said. Mingyu smiles faintly and nods, “Which one is your favorite so far?” He asks turning to look at the paintings. I smile and look at the painting by Marissa Levy, the little no-fame artist. “A Father’s Love…” I said looking at the sad yet lovely painting. “Ah, Marissa Levy, did you know most of her paintings are from her personal life events?” Mingyu asks as he eyes the painting, I bite my bottom lip. How does he know the artist? I mean her name is on the painting but the facts?

I turn my gaze away from him, “I did…Levy is one of my favorite artists.” I said crossing my arms. Mingyu looks at his watch, this man means business if his wrist is wrapped with gold. “The auction is starting, will you like to join me?” He asks, holding out his arm. Flustered I give him a shy smile, “If you don't mind being bothered by my presence then yes I’ll join you.” I said letting my hand wrap around his arm. What doesn't this man have?! I bite my bottom lip as I feel how built he is under my palm.

Mingyu smiles, “Your presence is more welcomed than you think,” He says with a playful wink. I blush, we walk into the dining hall of the villa where the auction is being held. I can already feel my mother’s gaze on me, but I ignore it. Mingyu pulls out the chair for me, I give him a faint smile. “Gentlemen are very rare in this society,” I teased, he chuckled. I accept his invitation and sit, I look around catching Noah’s gaze. The look of pure shock made me want to laugh but I kept my composure, Mr. Colucci cleared his throat making it known that the auction would be starting.

~ Mingyu ~

“Carlos Condé is a man of business, I hope you do understand that Mingyu. This isn't some ordinary family, they’re part of the high society of Bezuari. The Colucci family being at the top, the Condé being at second…I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.” Seungcheol says as he looks at the photography, “Stop your worrying Choi, don't forget that I hired you to do this.” I remind him.

Seungcheol sighs and sulks, “No need to remind me,” He says. I look at the Condé family photo, “There’s one missing…” Seungcheol says. “No one’s ever seen or heard of her, she’s the daughter of Eva Condé…” He continues, and I sigh sharply. “The born out-of-wedlock daughter as most have said, as I stated no one’s heard of her so there’s no name,” Seungcheol says. The Condé family does not cease to amaze me…secrets, dirty little secrets.

[sapphire-writes]

Holiday In The Hamptons

Part 3 of The Campaign

pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: You join the Targaryen-Hightower family in the Hamptons, determined to get back what Aemond took from you.

word count: 7.2k

rating: 18+/explicit (see details below the cut)

warnings: p in v (explicit sex), oral (fem-recieving), edging, overstimulation, blindfold, restraints, fingering, rough s*x, degradation, begging, kissing, pussy slapping, choking, hand kink, finger sucking, alluding to some Daemon/Rhaenyra targcest, language

note: it's been a while! I have no words-- i was inspired and here is the monster I created, I hope you enjoy!

You’d secretly hoped Rhaenyra would throw out the idea of a family outing after the debate with Aegon went sideways. She’d been graceful, smooth, and calculated as always. And Aegon?

Well, Aegon was Aegon. 

You suppose Otto Hightower had attempted to prep him. But it didn’t stop him from being a pompous asshole through the entirety of the debate. Interrupting, laughing, and dismissing all of Rhaenyra’s arguments with baseline claims of his own. It was hard to watch. 

And yet the public was eating it up. 

Funny, they called him. An arrogant, egotistical, narcissist. But funny. The media was far more forgiving of Aegon than Rhaenyra. You suppose that’s why Aegon made a better frontman than Aemond. He was awfully charismatic. 

Though you just know it was killing Aemond inside to not be the one behind that podium going head to head with Rhaenyra. A battle of wits is Aemond Targaryen’s idea of a great time. He wouldn’t have needed Aegon’s cheap tricks to win the debate. He probably could have bested her (though that killed you to admit). 

“Shrieks Through the Keep,” she read the headline on her phone as you sat in the back of the limousine on the way to the Hamptons, “Rhaenyra Targaryen snaps at Aegon Targaryen during last night’s debate, her reaction reminiscent of her predecessor Maegor Targaryen. Fucking ridiculous.”

Luke sits beside her, Joffrey beside him lost in his Nintendo Switch, furiously pressing buttons and cursing under his breath. Jace and you sit across from them, knees pressed together. You’ve been stiffer around him lately, ever since----

“You did wonderfully,” Daemon had insisted, squeezing Rhaenyra’s knee, “Bunch of stupid cunts.”

Rhaenyra clicks her phone and the screen dims before leaning her head back and closing her eyes. Luke reaches forward, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s only the first debate,” Daemon insists, “The others will be better.”

Rhaenyra lets out a pitiful laugh dropping her head into her hands, pressing her thumbs right under her brow bones. You’ve seen Aemond do the same thing when he’s stressed. Seven save you, can you stop thinking about that asshole?

“Can we talk about something else?” Rhaenyra asks, “Anything else.”

Joffrey pays no attention, his dark curls falling into his eyes, the faint sounds of his game echoing in the small space. Luke’s leg bounces nervously, his eyes darting to you, begging for some help. 

“What’s your favorite memory of Summerhall House?” you ask her, eager to change the subject to something else as well. 

The side of Rhaenyra’s mouth ticks upwards in a small, sad smile. She straightens up, leaning back against the leather seat. Her eyes look past you, searching for a memory. 

“My father brought me here when I was a child,” she tells you, “Every summer we’d come. Just the three of us.”

Daemon watches Rhaenyra carefully as she speaks; his violet eyes never leave her face. You wonder where Daemon had fit in on their family holidays. 

“My father hated the beach, hated it,” Rhaenyra continues through a chuckle, “But my mother loved the ocean. We’d spend hours at a time going back and forth. Swimming, drying out on the sand, going back to the water. Father would watch from the deck, always holed up with his models.”

Daemon takes her hand. You watch a pink blush begin to form on the apples of her cheeks, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. Your throat tightens. Aegon had his fair share of gossip present in the tabloids, but so did Rhaenyra. 

Not a rumor you hope has truth behind it.

But it’s hard to deny when it's happening right in front of you. Still, you remove your gaze from their intertwined hands and rest your head against Jace’s shoulder. 

“You miss him terribly,” Daemon says, thumb stroking the back of Rhaenyra’s hand, “I do as well. He’d be happy that you’re doing this. He always wanted the family together.”

Rhaenyra nods at his words, violet eyes glancing up at her Uncle’s face. He smiles at her softly before turning his head toward you and Jace. You meet his eyes for a brief moment before averting your gaze, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

When you look up, he’s still watching you. You force a tight smile which Daemon Targaryen does not return. He knows you know, your mind teases as a weight settles in your gut. You close your eyes, pressing your face against Jace’s neck inhaling the scent of his cologne. You feel his arm tighten around you. 

“Not long now,” he murmurs, and you hum in response. 

Though you pretend to be asleep for the remainder of the drive, you can feel the fiery gaze of Daemon Targaryen burning through you. 

When you arrive at Summerhall House you’re greeted with laminated itineraries and Alicent Hightower-Targaryen waiting at the front door. She holds one out to you, her brown eyes warm and inviting, auburn curls hanging freely down her back, dressed in an emerald green silk dress that falls just below her knee. 

Though it's been half a year since the death of her husband she doesn’t look the part of a grieving widow. In fact, she appears more radiant than ever. The death of Viserys Targaryen suits her. Her eyebrows crease together as Daemon brushes by her, ignoring the handout. Her eyes move behind you, eyes searching for someone else.

“Where’s Baela and Rhanea?” 

Daemon stops at the decorative table, eyeing the bowl of fruit in the center. Ruby red apples lay piled atop a bed of pears, and fresh mandarins. He reaches for an apple, taking off his sunglasses while inspecting the shiny outer flesh.

“Baela is galavanting around Europe. Last I spoke to her she was in Greece,” he says, biting into the apple, “Rhaena is much too busy preparing for her LSAT to be bothered with this farce.”

Alicent prickles at that, her jaw clenching, and her shoulders straightening. 

“I’m tired,” Daemon announces.

“We’re supposed to have dinner,” Alicent calls as he begins his ascent up the staircase. Her words fall on deaf ears as Daemon continues down the hall until he is out of sight. She sighs, trying to hide her frustration as she turns back to you, “Can I get you anything? Something to drink? The espresso martinis are fabulous.”

Rhaenyra smiles politely, reaching out and squeezing Alicent’s forearm.

“None for me, I’m afraid I’m rather tired as well,” she admits, smiling bashfully, “I think I’ll tuck in for the evening.”

“Luke and Joffrey will share the beach room,” Alicent tells her, “Jace and…” she looks at you, as though remembering you’re present, “Y/N….you’re in the room at the farthest end of the second floor.”

You smile tightly.

“Thank you, Alicent,” you tell her, heading upstairs. As much as you want a drink, you’d rather not be stuck with forced polite conversation with Alicent. 

The following morning is lights, camera, and action. Playing the role of a happy family is non-negotiable today. You meet everyone at breakfast by the pool, under the shade of the veranda. Mimosas, fresh fruit, omelets, and croissants greet you. You sit across from Daemon and Rhaenyra, as Jace pulls your chair out for you, reaching for a chocolate croissant. 

Otto Hightower sits at the head of the table, his gaze icy. You can tell he’s watching Daemon out of the corner of his eye, his tension palpable. 

“Aemond arrived rather late last night,” Daemon says, taking a bite of his omelet, “Though I’ve yet to see Helaena. Where is my niece?” 

You can’t help the rush of stupid warmth that rolls through you. He’s here. Absent at the family breakfast though. Dickhead. 

“Helaena should be joining us this evening,” Alicent says, sipping her mimosa, “I must’ve dozed off, was Floris with Aemond when he arrived?”

Alicent’s eyes are bright, lit up with curiosity. 

You wonder if they get along. It appears Alicent likes her, by the look in her eyes. Through the grapevine, you’d heard that mummy didn’t approve of Aemond’s previous fling. That ended rather quickly. Jealousy creeps through your veins; icy tendrils weaving up your spine. Jace meets your eyes smiling.

“D’you like your croissant?” he asks, his grin lopsided.

“Love it,” you tell him, returning his smile with a much colder one. 

Jacaerys Velaryon is nice. That’s about all there is to him. An easy man to have on your arm. Easily influenced. Easily manipulated. He has potential, for sure. You’d gotten the same look of approval from Rhaenyra that Floris undoubtedly got from Alicent when Jace had brought you home. 

“Believe he said something about her taking the next flight out?” Daemon says, eyebrows cinching together as he tries to remember, “Weather wasn’t cooperating. Something like that. We didn’t engage in further conversation.”

You bite your tongue so you don’t ask where he is. Luke is the one to broach the subject. 

“He coming out today?” he asks, referring to the yacht party planned later that afternoon.

“He’s resting now,” Otto informs Luke, “But everyone is expected to be there. On their best behavior.” He says the words pointedly, through gritted teeth.

You reach for your drink taking a long sip of the tart beverage. Rhaenyra cocks an eyebrow at Otto’s pointed tone, reaching for the water glass beside her plate and taking a sip. 

“Can I have one?” Joffrey asks, eyeing your mimosa.

“In your dreams,” Luke scoffs, causing the younger boy to pout. 

The majority of the morning is spent lying by the pool. You’d put on your swimsuit as soon as breakfast ended, heading back down to get some sun. No sign of Aemond. He must be holed up in his room doing gods knows what. You can’t help the feeling of anticipation that curls in your belly. 

The yacht party is meant to happen that afternoon, and as time creeps closer you decide to take action. The intimate family gathering is not one you need to participate in any way, not like the upcoming party later in the week. There’s unfortunately no way out of that event. 

“I don’t know,” you tell Jace, “You know I get seasick, baby.” You don’t. 

“I don’t want you to get lonely,” he insists, “I’ll stay behind-”

“You go ahead,” you insist, “I’ll be alright. I have a couple of calls to make anyway and I can lounge by the pool.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” you tell him, placing a kiss on his cheek, “Seriously, have fun! Bond with everyone.”

Jace is reluctant but doesn’t argue. You wonder if he cares at all, deep down. 

Helaena greets you when she arrives, clad in dark green slacks and a white tank top, a cigarette hanging from her red mouth. You’d only been introduced once before, though you remember her vaguely, a year ahead of you back in school. She’d changed her hair recently, it was cut in a retro shag style, bangs in front of her eyes.

“Jace brought a friend,” she comments, walking towards you, hands in her pockets. 

You turn your head, still spread out in your chaise lounge one foot propped on the seat, an arm thrown under your head. 

“Surprised I’m still around?” you ask, noting the unashamed way Helaena’s eyes drag across your body.

“Nah,” she says, pulling her cigarette from her lips, “More surprised you’re still putting up with him.”

“Hmm,” you hum in response, “You bring anyone?”

“Why, you interested?” she teases, with a grin, “I’m not getting anyone involved with this shit show. You’ve the right idea, staying behind.”

“I don’t like boats,” you tell her.

Helaena drops her cigarette, stamping it out under her foot.

“Mhmm,” she says, eyes unconvinced, “Enjoy your alone time.”

You don’t answer as she retreats back into the house. You hear the muffled voices as everyone begins to leave for the party. Aemond doesn’t come outside, and doesn’t ask why you’re staying behind. You try not to let that vex you, but can’t help it. Sighing, you close your eyes as the sounds of distant voices fade, along with the car engines in the driveway.

Suddenly, an idea strikes as the sun begins to dip below the horizon no longer offering the heat from earlier in the day. Getting up from your spot, you throw on your cover-up and tread into the house. It’s silent, beside the gentle sound of the central air system. 

You need to find your necklace. The one Jace had given you. The one you’d so carelessly left behind during your last rendezvous with Aemond. Jace hadn’t stopped asking about it, and you just knew it gave Aemond some sick sense of power, holding that over you. 

You hurry up the stairs, padding down the hallway until you reach Aemond’s room. You’d heard Alicent mention last night which room he and Floris would be staying in. Taking a deep breath, you open the door. 

Aemond’s room is neat; just as you’d expected. His two suitcases were closed standing side by side at the foot of his bed. White pillows are fluffed to perfection; you doubt Aemond was the one to tend to it. His bedside table is bare save a lamp and a dog-eared book without a dust cover. The title remains a mystery. There’s a matching table on the opposite side with an empty silver dish and a small lap. 

Moving further into his room you stop in front of a large floor-length mirror, trimmed with gold, and spare a moment to shamelessly admire yourself. The Hamptons look good on you. From the afternoon spent in the warm summer sun, your skin already has a luminescent sun-kissed glow. You tilt your head, parting your lips slightly. 

Should’ve brought your phone with you; a selfie in this mirror would be worth a thousand words. You don’t suppose anyone will be back for hours. You can come back later for a little photo shoot. Your mouth quirks into a small smile at the thought of Aemond scrolling through Instagram and seeing you in his room. 

You know exactly how you’ll do it. On your knees, a hand toying with the strings of your bikini bottoms, plush thighs on full display. Your sheer cover-up dangling off of one of your shoulders revealing a delicious amount of skin your bikini top barely covers. Lips curved into a perfect pout.

You just need to find that necklace. 

That would be the icing on the cake. 

Peering into the attached bathroom you note all his hair and skincare products lined up in a neat row across the marble sink. You raise a brow at his perfectionism. 

Anal prick. 

You rummage through the drawers under the sink, most of them practically empty. A hair straightener, a hairbrush, a thin-toothed comb. 

No necklace. 

You growl in frustration slamming the drawer shut. Sitting back on your haunches you place a hand against your forehead. Maybe he didn’t even bring it, I mean, why would he?

You remember the look on his face, the stolen glances. That stupid fucking smirk. Your cheeks flush, warmth creeping down your neck.

He brought it. It’s here somewhere.

You tap your fingers against your knee, hand bouncing nervously. You need to keep looking. Rising from your spot on the floor you make your way back into the room, glancing around. Flinging open the closet doors you paw through suit jackets and trousers letting your hands dip into the pockets of each one. C’mon, it has to be here somewhere---

“What are you doing?” a cool, calm voice asks, sending a shiver down your spine like you’d been dosed in ice water.

Slowly, you turn, meeting the blue and purple eyes of Aemond Targaryen as he leans casually against the doorframe. 

He’s not supposed to be here. 

Yet, here he is. Dressed in gray slacks, and a black button-down pressed to perfection with not a wrinkle in sight. Green tie around his neck as though he’d just come from a meeting. He’s holding a legal pad in his left hand, a pen pinched between his thumb and forefinger. His silver hair pushed back out of his face, rounded glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. You roll your shoulders back and keep your chin up.

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?” he asks, entering the room. He tosses the legal pad carelessly on the side table before reaching into his back pocket and removing his phone as well. Your eyes narrow as he rolls his sleeves up.

“You know what,” you tell him, tapping your foot against the floor.

Aemond releases a hum, still not answering. He lifts his glasses off of the bridge of his nose, letting them rest on top of his head. 

“Where is it?” you repeat, becoming more impatient with each passing second. 

Aemond doesn’t meet your gaze, instead, he takes a step forward. The bed is the only thing that separates you. He looks up at you then, violet and blue eyes staring into yours intently. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tells you, nonchalantly, “If you’ve misplaced something how is that my problem?���

“It is your problem,” you say through your teeth. Aemond brings his hands in front of his chest, the veins on the back of them prominent. You watch as he slowly removes a ring on his left hand, taking time to twist the silver band from his middle finger. 

Your mouth goes dry as he repeats the movement, twisting the metal that rests on his ring finger. That ring he wears nearly every day, stamped with the Targaryen family crest. He resumes his movements, focusing on the ring that remains on his right hand. A small silver band around his thumb. When it's free, he holds his hand out across the bed. 

An offering. 

You’re not sure what compels you to reach forward, holding your palm open-faced under his. He uncurls his fingers, rings falling into your awaiting palm. He hasn’t touched you and yet your whole body feels flushed. 

You close your fingers around the cold rings, pulling your hand away. Aemond jerks his chin, motioning toward the nightstand beside you. You turn, placing the rings haphazardly in the small empty silver dish. They clang loudly against it and Aemond stares at you disapprovingly.

“Are you going to give it back, or not?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest once more. 

“Why are you here?” he asks, ignoring your question and walking to the edge of the bed.

“I get seasick,” you lie to him as you did to Jace.

Aemond merely chuckles, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He reaches to the top of his head, removing his glasses, and placing them on his dresser. A lock of silver hair falls in front of his eyes as he turns back to you, mirroring your pose.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe what you want,” you snap, “What are you doing here?”

“I had work to finish,” he says with a shrug. Aemond’s hands drop to his belt, and he begins to undo it. “So I decided to stay behind.” 

The hairs on your arms stand up and heat rushes to your face, and the top of your chest. You suddenly become very aware of how trapped you are on this side of the room. You’d have to climb over the bed if you wanted to leave. 

You glance at the door as Aemond pulls his belt free of the loops of his slacks. A sharp whine echoes in the room as the leather rubs against the fabric. 

Your attention turns back on Aemond, you watch as he tosses the belt onto the bed. You swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. 

Aemond takes a slow step, rounding the corner of the bed. You don’t say anything as he walks closer, nor when he brings a large hand to rest against your outer thigh. He’s barely applying any pressure, you can just feel the heat of his large palm against you. Your lips part slightly at the sensation. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks again, letting his fingers trail up your thigh, “Hmm?” His fingers curl under the strap of your bathing suit bottom, snapping it against your hip. You flinch slightly at the light sting. 

You inhale a deep breath, looking up at the chiseled features of his face. 

“I want my necklace back.”

The perfect pout of his lips curl at the edges, a satisfied smirk appearing. 

“Well then you’re going to have to work for it,” he tells you, his voice rough and commanding. 

To your despair, heat rushes to your core at the authoritative tone of his voice and the feeling of his hand still on your upper thigh. You hate admitting it, but you’d been thinking about that afternoon in the hotel ever since it had happened. Getting off to the memory of it, nearly every night. 

“We’re not doing this again,” you tell him as his opposite hand finds your waist. He swipes his thumbs against your hip bones, squeezing into the soft flesh. He’s so close, your crossed forearms graze against the fabric of his button-down. You shake your head, “I hate you.”

Aemond tilts his head back, not releasing his grip on you. Your arms uncross on their own accord, and you bring your hands to his tie. Your fingers work the knot, loosening it and removing it from his neck. You toss the green fabric onto the bed, moving to the buttons of his shirt. 

“Say it again,” he murmurs, fingers digging into you hard enough to leave bruises. He pulls you closer, his nose bumping against your cheek. 

“I hate you,” you breathe, working through all the buttons. Aemond chuckles darkly as you tear open his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest. 

You drag your fingers down between his pectorals, tracing in between the muscles of his abdomen. They flex under your soft touch. Aemond releases your hips to shrug off his shirt, abandoning the material on the floor. 

You watch it pool at his feet, before his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you flush against him, capturing your lips in a punishing kiss. It’s brutal; all clashing teeth and tongues as he keeps one hand securely on the back of your neck, the other tearing at the thin material of your coverup until it falls to the floor. 

His free hand drags down your side before settling on your ass; it’s so large he encompasses the cheek nearly entirely, squeezing the soft flesh harshly and dragging a gasp from your throat. He backs you up toward the bed, kissing you all the while. You can’t think when he kisses you, all you can focus on is the feeling of him. It’s nothing but hot, burning need pulsating through your veins. 

Aemond pushes you, none too gently, onto the bed before climbing on top of you. His hands roam down your body, your back arching at his touch. 

He leans back on his haunches, reaching for the belt. You can see evidence of his arousal straining against his slacks, his eyes hungrily raking over your scantily clad form as you gaze up at him through your lashes. 

“Wrist up.” 

You breathe heavily, before doing what he asks, placing both your arms above your head. Aemond loops the belt around your wrists, binding them to the metal rod of his headboard. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, and the ache between your thighs grows. Aemond’s eyes flicker to your face as he tugs the bindings. The smirk that appears on his face says one thing.

You’re not going anywhere.

“You need me to stop,” he says, as he moves away from you, “You need to be untied. You want this to be over; you say keligon.” 

“What’s that mean?” you ask, your voice sounding breathier and more desperate than you’d have liked it to.

“It’s High Valyrian,” he tells you, “You say that, I’ll untie you. I’ll stop.” Aemond returns to you, grasping your chin in his hand, “What do you say if you want me to stop?”

You stare into his eyes, surprised by his seriousness. “Keligon.”

“Good girl,” he says, lightly tapping your cheek with his fingers as he releases his hold. 

Aemond reaches for his discarded necktie. He smoothes the material in his hands before bringing it to your face. Your eyes widen as you realize his intentions, but you make no move to stop him. You allow it. 

You want it. 

The tie sits perfectly against your eyes, blocking any semblance of light. All your other senses feel heightened, your skin feels electric. You can’t see him, can only feel the bed shifting from his weight as he moves above you, making sure it’s tied snuggly around your head. Suddenly, you feel his slender fingers, dragging down the strap of your bikini top, taking his sweet time before he reaches the knot that sits in the valley between your breasts. 

“Cute suit,” he murmurs, fingers fiddling with the knot, “You bring this one just for me?”

You can feel the material give, your breasts releasing back to their natural state as the knot comes completely undone. Aemond drags his fingers over the material lazily exposing your tits to him. He hums appreciatively as the cool air makes your nipples pebble. 

“I have a boyfriend,” you tell him, earning a chuckle. 

“You do?” he murmurs, dragging his fingers down your sternum, over the sensitive skin of your stomach. You take your lower lip between your teeth, skin erupting in goosebumps. You already want to pull against the restraints, wriggle, and thrash away from his teasing hands. 

“My poor nephew,” he muses, tugging at the straps of your bottoms, “He fuck you like I do?”

You haven’t slept with Jace. It’s not really part of your arrangement. Not that Aemond needs to know.

“You fuck Floris like you fuck me?” you challenge. Aemond’s hands pause their movements.

Just like earlier, a wave of jealousy rolls through you. Envy churns in your stomach, and you clench your jaw. 

“Floris and I are colleagues,” Aemond says slowly. He sounds as though he’s choosing his words very carefully. 

“You don’t have to baby me,” you lie, “I’m a big girl, I understand this world.”

Aemond is silent for a moment, and you wonder if he’ll push the subject more. He’s still for so long you nearly tap out, keligon on the tip of your tongue when suddenly he finishes removing your bathing suit bottoms. Completely naked before him, tied up like a summer holiday present, your body trembles with anticipation. 

Stop being jealous, you tell yourself, feeling him move on top of you once more. It’s just sex. Fucking good sex. That’s all it has to be. 

Aemond trails wet, hot kisses down your neck, his greedy hands digging into your thighs keeping you spread open so he can rest between them. He’s still wearing pants, you can feel the fabric against your thighs, and pressing against your bare pussy, the sensation driving you insane. 

His mouth trails lower, settling on your right breast, his tongue circling your pebbled nipple. Your back arches off of the bed, hands pulling against your restraints. The leather tightens against your wrists, digging into them painfully. 

Your lips part and a breathy moan escapes your lips as he sucks on your breast. Your legs wrap around his slender waist, desperately trying to get some friction to relieve the ache between your thighs. Your clit drags against the front of his slacks, grinding against his bulge sending sparks of pleasure dancing through your body. You’re nearly pulsating with need as he releases your tit with a wet pop, humming in satisfaction. 

Aemond drags his lips through the valley of your breasts, before repeating his attentions. He moans-fucking moans---as he bites at your tender nipple, ripping a cry from deep in your chest. 

“Look at you grinding against me,” he comments, as your hips buck upwards attempting to meet him, “That wet little pussy is making such a mess on me right now.” 

Your face burns at his comment, but you can’t see what he means. You can only feel how desperately wet you are, the slickness coating your inner thighs. You thrash against your restraints and hear him click his tongue.

“Poor baby,” he says, with mock sympathy, sucking harshly against the side of your breast. He brings his free hand to play with your unattended nipple, tweaking it harshly. 

You’re not sure if it’s the extra attention he’s giving your tits or the blindfold, but you can feel the tension in your gut growing tighter, heat building in your core. You bite your lip, whining desperately, back arching. Aemond lets out a breathless laugh, never stopping his ministrations with your nipple, capturing the other with his lips once more. 

“Are you gonna cum?” he murmurs against your breast and you curse at the vibration it causes, “You better not….you hear me?” Aemond drags his lips over your breast, trailing them up your neck and just below your ear.

His hand leaves your opposite breast, finding its way under your head and tangling in your hair. He tugs the roots harshly, pinpricks of pain and pleasure trickling down your neck as you whimper. Aemond’s breath is hot against your ear as he speaks. 

“You better not fucking cum, you hear me?” he growls, “Not until I tell you to. You can do that, can’t you?” His hand tightens in your hair.

“Yes,” you gasp, “Yes-fuck!”

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, rewarding you with a kiss, “Fuck, you have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”

Your cheeks flush, heat rushing to your face at his words. You twist against your restraints as he kisses down your torso once more. 

“I should’ve been more specific,” he muses, kissing right below your belly button, “You’re not cumming unless I’m feeling generous enough to let you.” He kisses the top of your hip bone, squeezing the other side. 

“Is that clear?”

Nothing feels clear, your whole body is on fire. The embers of your previous denied orgasm burn brightly in your throbbing center. Aemond moves lower, pressing your thighs back against the bed. You can feel his breath fanning on your soaked center. 

A sharp slap stings against your dripping pussy and you cry out.

“You’re not nonverbal yet, are you?” he asks with mock concern, “I’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“No,” you tell him, “I mean, yes. Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss on top of your mound before dipping his tongue lower, spreading through your silky, wet folds. 

Aemond moans at the taste, dipping lower and letting his tongue tease at the opening of your clenching pussy. His tongue just breaches the tight muscle of your entrance, nose brushing against your aching clit. 

“Fuck,” you mewl as he presses his tongue further inside of you groaning as you clench around the warm, wet muscle. 

He murmurs something, even though his face is buried in your pussy and you can’t even attempt to understand him. All you can do is tug against the restraints and moan pitifully as he has his way with you. Your legs tremble, thighs aching as he presses them back further into the mattress. He decides to release them, bringing his hands under your ass and lifting you slightly off the bed to press even further against your core. 

Aemond removes his tongue to your displeasure, placing an open-mouthed, wet kiss on your pussy, dragging his lips and tongue to circle your clit with slow, calculated strokes. 

“Seven--fuck!” you cry, legs shaking around him as he gently caresses your sensitive button, another chuckle leaving him at your desperation. 

“Oh baby,” he says softly, pressing two long fingers inside of you, “You look so pathetic when you try not to cum.”

“Fu-uck,” you cry as he curls his fingers, beginning to fuck you with them. The wetness between your thighs, paired with the words he’s speaking to you make you flush with humiliation. 

You’ve never been this wet before, not for anyone. You can hear it, hear him fucking you with his fingers. The gentle squishing sounds of your soaked pussy fill the room. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” he comments, rubbing against your g-spot. Your spine arches, mouth dropping open, a wanton cry leaving your lips. “Oh, that’s such a good girl.” 

“I think you can take one more, what do you think?” he asks, “C’mon, beg me. Use that big brain of yours, find the words.”

“Yes, yes please,” you beg, “Please give me another, I need another--” you’re cut off as Aemond slips a third digit into your pussy, fucking you with his fingers relentlessly.

“Please let me cum,” you beg, feeling him sit up as he continues to finger you. 

“No,” he says sternly, placing a kiss on your stomach. 

“Please, plea-”

“I said no.”

A frustrated, guttural moan leaves you and Aemond keeps going. You’re terrified for a moment, legs shaking uncontrollably, knowing you won’t be able to stop the wave of pleasure cresting inside of you. Luckily, by some saving grace, Aemond slows his movements, before carefully removing his soaked fingers from your fluttering cunt. 

Disappointment courses through you at another ruined orgasm, followed by the relief of not going against Aemond’s wishes. You can feel tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, dampening the fabric of the makeshift blindfold. 

You feel his soaked fingers press at your lips, parting them as they dip inside your hot mouth. You moan at the taste of your arousal, sucking the lengthy digits much like you did that first night inside the coat closet. 

“Gods you’re so perfect like this,” Aemond croons, his opposite hand moving some sweat-coated hair from your damp forehead, “So eager to please.”

Defiance prickles under your skin and you fight the urge to bite down on his fingers; not hard, but enough. You feel Aemond stiffen as though he can read your thoughts, and feel his hand yank the blindfold from your eyes. You blink, adjusting to the light as he pulls his fingers from your mouth. 

He reaches up, fiddling with the belt, releasing your wrists. Arms sore, you bring them to your chest, hugging them against your breasts. You can’t help but pout, and Aemond watches you carefully, eyes narrowing. 

“Tell you what,” he muses, taking your wrists in his hands and massaging them gently, “I’m feeling rather generous today. Even though you broke into my room, and went snooping through my belongings.”

You watch him carefully, chest heaving. Aemond continues to massage your wrists, eyes glued to your breasts, watching them rise and fall with each breath you take. You swallow, eyes dropping to his erection that strains against his slacks. Your cheeks burn as you notice the wet patch on the front, no doubt caused by you grinding against him. 

“I’ll give you the necklace,” he says, letting go of your wrists and curling his hands around the meat of your upper thighs, “Or I’ll let you cum. Your choice.”

You clench at his words, clit throbbing desperately between your legs. You want to cum so badly that it's nearly painful. You whine pitifully as he squeezes your thighs. 

“I’ll let you think about it,” he assures you, that stupid smirk reappearing on his face, “On your hands and knees, get that pretty pussy in the air.”

Aemond releases you sliding off the bed and undoing his trousers. Shaking, you turn over, propping yourself on your hands and knees. You feel Aemond’s hands once more as he maneuvers you on the bed, fisting your hair and yanking your head up. 

Your eyes meet your reflection in the grand mirror, Aemond naked behind you, his well-endowed cock fully hard and weeping. He brings his lips to your ear. 

“I want you to watch,” he whispers, releasing his grip on your hair. 

He moves instead to spread your ass cheek, opening you wide for him. You feel his cock press against you, the fat head sliding through your soaked folds, dragging it teasingly from your center to your clit. 

“Aemond,” you whimper, “Please--”

Slowly he sinks into your wet heat; the girth of him stretching you out deliciously. Your whole body trembles, your head falling forward as he bottoms out; your walls pulsating around him. Aemond runs his hands over the swell of your ass, down your sides before taking both wrists in his large hands and pulling you backward. The force drags your head up, meeting his eyes in the mirror once more.

“I told….you….to….watch,” he says, punctuating each word with a hard slap of his hips against your ass; cock sliding easily in and out of your soaked pussy. 

Small mewls leave your lips as he continues to hold you, never losing the rhythm of the brutal pace he’s set. 

“Why’d you want that horrid thing back anyway?” Aemond asks, sounding displeased, “I gave you a necklace the last time we saw each other.”

Your eyes are wide, tears threatening to spill over from the pleasurable current roaring in your belly. Aemond smirks at your lack of response, releasing your arms. They fall limply to the bed, and you force your shaky forearms to keep yourself propped up. 

“Don’t you remember?” he asks, fingers digging into your thighs, “You ungrateful little slut.” 

You do remember, how could you possibly forget? You’d had to take another shower to remove his warm, sticky spend from your neck and chest. 

“Perhaps you’d like a new one,” Aemond muses, leaning on top of you, and wrapping his hands around your neck.

Not one, but both of them rest comfortably around your throat, flexing along the sides. His cock continues to slide effortlessly in and out of your tight, wet heat; cockhead rubbing incessantly against your sensitive walls and bullying your sweet spot. 

You try to say his name, try to find any words, but they come out a garbled, breathless moan.

“Do you like it?” Aemond asks, flexing his hands against your throat, “Don’t you look so pretty?”

His hands---gods his hands---look fucking perfect around your neck, as tears spill freely down your cheeks. His veins are prominent on the back of his hands, even more so when he flexes them, slightly cutting off your air supply. You’re too light-headed and cock drunk to answer him with anything other than a wanton, breathy moan. 

“Thank me,” he murmurs, rutting against you. The coil in your gut winds tighter and tighter.

“Wha--” you manage, mind clouded by lust.

“Thank me for your gift,” he says, flexing his fingers for emphasis. He tightens his grip momentarily, before releasing some pressure, allowing you the opportunity to answer him. 

Aemond lifts a brow expectantly, slowly rolling his hips against you. 

“Thank you,” you gasp, “Thank you, Aemond.”

Aemond hums appreciatively, fucking you with renewed enthusiasm. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut, trying to stop the roaring of blood rushing in your ears, your orgasm speeding toward you at full force.

“You’re close aren’t you?” he grunts, “What’ll it be, baby?”

“Please, please I wanna cum,” you whine, “Please let me cum, fu-uck!” 

Aemond pulls you up flush against his chest as soon as you say the words, fucking up into you. He keeps one hand on your throat, the other dipping between your legs to rub circles around your clit. 

“That’s it, fucking cum all over my cock,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “That’s a good little slut, there you go.”

Your body tense, legs shuddering as you’re thrown into your release, the coil in your gut snapping as you clench around his thick cock. You’re crying from the intensity, a desperate sob escaping you at the prolonged release. As your high subsides, Aemond releases you, turning you on your back.

Your whole body tingles as he climbs on top of you, sliding back into your fluttering pussy in one smooth motion. You gasp as his cock rubs against your g-spot, as he lazily begins thrusting into you once more.

“Aem-mond,” you moan, as he slings one leg over his shoulder, spreading you wider.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he scolds, smirking as he slings your other leg over his shoulder, making himself a necklace of his own, “You wanted to cum so bad, you can do it again, can’t you?”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, watery eyes looking up at him, drinking in the satisfied smirk he wears. Your whole body tenses, the beginning of another orgasm building in your abdomen. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he taunts, “C’mon don’t stop now. You’ve been such a good little slut for me, you deserve it.”

“Please, please-”

“Yes you do,” he croons, “There you go. I feel this little pussy tightening around me. Squeezing me so good.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, a strangled cry leaving your lips as his thumb brushes against your swollen clit, sending you over the edge once more. Aemond doesn’t slow his hips, he keeps fucking you into the mattress as you’re pretzled over him.

“That’s a good girl,” he sing-songs, balls slapping against your ass as he increases the pace of his thrusts, “Don’t stop now, it feels so good doesn’t it?”

A sharp cry leaves your lips and you force yourself to nod, unable to formulate words in your blissed-out state. Euphoria pulses through your veins and floods your body with warmth. It’s like you’re burning with pleasure, your entire being aflame. 

“I can’t,” you moan, though your body betrays you. You can feel the tightening sensation in your gut, the tingling feeling of another orgasm building. 

“Yes you can,” Aemond insists, “C’mon you wanted it so bad, you greedy little thing. Take it, c’mon fucking take it.”

Your thighs shake around his neck, and Aemond’s jaw slacks as you clench around him. 

“Yes, oh fu-uck, yes!,” you whimper, and Aemond’s cock twitches inside you as you’re thrown over the edge once more making your vision go white. 

Aemond thrusts a few more times before you feel his cock pulsate, and warmth blooms deep in your abdomen. He lets out a grunt as he finishes, followed by an elongated moan that sends a shiver down your spine right down to your core. His head falls against your shoulder, peppering the damp flesh with soft kisses. 

He stays like that for a moment, before moving off of you. 

“Don’t move,” he says, walking toward the bathroom. 

You couldn’t if you wanted to. You hear the water run and watch as Aemond returns with a damp washcloth. His cock sways as he walks toward you, glistening with your release. Gently, he cleans you up, taking care to avoid your abused clit. 

After several moments, you find your bearings. Reality hits you, and you grab your swimsuit, throwing it back on hastily. 

“This can’t happen again,” you insist, though your trembling legs betray you, “Not with everyone here-”

“You’re not really in a position to make demands,” Aemond says, matter-of-factly.

“Excuse me?”

“I like this arrangement,” he tells you, “Both you and I are in relationships that benefit the family. That’s fine, dutiful even.” Aemond brushes a lock of hair from your face, letting his hand rest on your cheek, “That doesn’t mean we need to deny ourselves.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You can barely think with his hands on you. You bring your hand up quickly, slapping him away. Aemond gives nothing away; no flash of hurt or rejection is evident on his chiseled face. 

“I’m not denying anything,” you tell him, the lie bitter-tasting.

Aemond only stares those blue and violet eyes of his boring into yours. His gaze reignites the fire in your belly, the primal want aching deep in your bones. 

Motherfucker. 

You hate him. 

You hate him.

Yet you want him all the same. 

“I don’t believe you,” he says softly.

“Believe what you want,” you tell him, “Jace is good for me. He’s a good person.”

“Ah yes, Jacaerys Velaryon. Your conversations must be thrilling,” he says, stepping closer to you, “I know you. Whether you like it or not, whether you admit it or not. I know what makes your brain tick inside that pretty little head of yours. You may fool the press, hells you may fool the rest of the family; but you can’t fool me.”

You don’t answer him. Ignoring the tight feeling in your chest you simply grab your cover-up and throw it around your shoulders leaving his room.

note: as always, likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated, but never expected! if you'd like to be notified when I post please follow and turn on notifications for @sapphire-writes-updates in lieu of a taglist!

[iriel3000]

When Will You Let Her Go?

Whumptober Day 8: “It’s all for nothing.”

LAURA WHUMP, emotional whump, light whump

DISCLAIMER: I am legally allowed to torment the fictional character of Laura Barton (and Bruce Banner) this month.

AN: You are going to learn a lot about my writing process this month, sorry. Most of the whump fics will be 3rd or 4th round drafts. I normally spend weeks, if not months editing. Many of these pieces will be written days, if not hours, before the prompt is due. please forgive any spelling or grammar errors, or if these don't seem up to my usual standard.

thank you for indulging me tho😘

Summary: Laura calls the kids while they are in New York with Clint and Kate. part 1 of 3

“Hey, is everybody having fun?”

“Hi, mom!” Lila circled around Kate Bishop's penthouse with her phone, making Laura dizzy on the facetime call. “We’re having the best time! Look at Kate’s place!”

Clint was in New York helping Kate get ready for her first round of SWORD training and had taken Cooper, Lila, and Nate with him.

“Summer in New York is sooo much better than the winter.”

“What have you been doing? Where are your brothers?”

“They’re right here.” She turned the phone towards Cooper and Nate.

Laura blinked. She thought she was looking at an arcade. The room was huge with various ping pong, fooseball , and pool tables, along with old, upright video games. Cooper was playing online games on a theater size screen and Nate had VR goggles on, punching and kicking the air.

“Hi Mom!” Cooper shouted, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Hi, sweetie. Hello, Nathan.”

Nate continued playing.

“He can’t hear you.” Lilia swung the phone back around. “Anyway, we swam at Kate’s friend’s house. She has a pool on the roof of her apartment building!”

“Wow, that sounds fun.”

“Way more fun swimming at the Waverly community pool. We also saw Rogers the Musical again and got to meet the entire cast afterwards.” Lila went into the largest bathroom Laura had ever seen and rummaged through some drawers.

“Thought you guys said that play was silly when you saw it at Christmas?”

“Yeah, but we met some of the actors in Central Park a few days ago, it was really cool. The guy that plays dad does not look like him at all.” She laughed and began putting on makeup. “Ms. Nadia gave us box seats.”

“Miss Nadia?”

“She plays Aunt Nat. She's super nice, Mom, and really pretty. She could be Aunt Nat’s twin; they look that much alike.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, and she taught me some ballet moves to take back to my class. Ms. Nadia says I should take jazz classes if I want to be on Broadway like her.”

“But, I thought you were…”

“She’s an amazing dancer, Mom. Dad said she can do all the moves from Swan Lake, like Aunt Nat. She said she would teach me those too.”

“Is your dad there?”

“No, Kate is with us.”

“Why? Where did he go?”

“He had to help Ms. Nadia get some stuff for her Black Widow costume. Guess what?”

“What?” She asked, not thrilled with this new information.

Why would Clint need to help the Black Widow dancer with her costume? The play had been running for almost a year.

“Kate got us Taylor Swift concert tickets!! A suite by all of the celebrities. And we get to take a huge purple, Hummer limousine. I can’t wait!”

“You guys are supposed to come home tomorrow.”

“Dad said we could stay a few more days to go to the concert and to the Hamptons with Kate and her friends. It's summer vacation, Mom.”

“I know.” Laura tried not to sound too disappointed.

This weekend was her and Clint's wedding anniversary. The children were supposed to go to their cousin's house to spend the night so she and Clint could have a romantic evening.

They hadn't had much alone time. Since his retirement, Clint had been keeping busy fixing up the house and visiting New York every couple of months to help Kate.

“Come on, please.” Lila begged.

“Lila! Where are you?” Clint hollered in the background.

“Daddy’s home!”

“Home?” Laura balked, but Lila ignored her.

“Dad! Talk to Mom. Shes using that voice when she doesn’t like something.”

“Why?” Clint came in and gave Lila a hug.

“I told her about staying a few days and she has that tone, as usual.” Lila handed the phone to him.

He covered the screen with his hand.

"I'll take care of it." Laura heard Clint whisper.

“Hey, hon.” Clint removed his hand and she saw him check on the boys.

“You’re staying longer?”

“Is that a problem?”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“When I got back here. Didn’t know the kids were going to call you.” Clint walked down a long hallway to a massive kitchen.

“I called, she emphasized the 'I', “ because you were supposed to call me at noon.”

“Kate, where’d we put the putty?” Clint hollered to his protege somewhere in the penthouse.

“Clint!” Laura yelled.

“What?”

She blew out a breath loudly.

“It’s only our anniversary this weekend.”

“Oh, yeah. Happy anniversary, babe.”

“No, this weekend…”

“I’ll send you some flowers and New York candy. The kids and I went to Dylan’s and went crazy.”

Kate came into the room.

“Tell Cooper to finish his game, we gotta go.” Clint said.

"Is that Nadia? Tell her our matching shirts for the concert came in"

“No, it’s Laura.”

“Oh, hi, Laura!” Kate stuck her face into frame and waved.

“Hi, Kate.” Laura tried to muster some enthusiasm.

“Cooper, get Nate and let's go!” Kate bounded out.

“Clint.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He finally looked into the phone. “What were you saying?”

“So, when are you coming home?”

“I changed the flights to Monday.”

“That’s almost another week.’

“It’s not like the kids have school.”

“I thought we could spend our anniversary together.”

“Seventeen years, it’s not one of the milestones.”

“That’s rude.”

“I mean,” he rolled his eyes, “our daughter has a once in a lifetime opportunity to see her favorite singer at Madison Square Garden in premium seats. For free. We could not afford to do this for her. Do you really want to make her come home so we can go to Applebee’s?”

“I guess not.”

“She’ll think you’re the best mom for letting her stay.”

“Well, let me talk to her one more time.”

“She’s already out the door with Kate and the boys.”

Laura didn’t hide her annoyance.

“I promise she’ll call you tomorrow. We have to go meet Nat and the others. Have a good time with your girls.” He set the phone down.

“What did you say?”

“Have a good time." He picked it back up but all Laura could see was walls. "I’ll tell the kids you miss them. Bye, hon.”

“Wait…”

He hung up.

Laura stared at her phone for a long moment before flinging it on the bed. She gathered up the little, black nightie she’d bought for this weekend and shoved it back in the bag.

find the whole series here....laura whump

[hamptons-vip-ride]

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Customised Experience: Whether you're travelling solo, with family, or in a group, car services can tailor their offerings to meet your needs.

Popular Routes for Hamptons Car Services

Hamptons car services are ideal for various routes and occasions. Here are some of the most popular:

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When selecting a car service, look for the following features to ensure a top-notch experience:

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Professional Chauffeurs: Drivers should be experienced, courteous, and knowledgeable about the Hamptons and surrounding areas.

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How to Choose the Right Hamptons Car Service

With several options available, finding the perfect service can be overwhelming. Here are some tips:

Read Reviews: Check online reviews and testimonials to gauge customer satisfaction.

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Check Licensing and Insurance: Ensure the service provider is licensed and insured for added security.

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Top Occasions for Using a Hamptons Car Service

Whether you're celebrating a special event or need reliable transport, car services are ideal for:

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Corporate Events: Impress clients or attend meetings without worrying about logistics.

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Benefits of Booking Early

The Hamptons is a popular destination, especially during summer. Booking your car service in advance ensures:

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Potential discounts for early reservations.

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Versatile Transportation Solutions

Elite Limo LI’s private car service is ideal for a wide range of occasions and purposes:

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Easy Booking and Transparent Pricing

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For Original post Content: - https://myvipon.com/post/880892/Luxury-Start-Your-Weekend-Glamour-with-amazon-coupons