Finally, after what seemed both like no time at all and an eternity, Daenerys felt release washing over her once more. Her cries this time weren't even so articulate as his name, just sounds, sounds that seemed to her like they came from somewhere outside of her body entirely, desperate sounds for Jon to swallow up.
Her hand slid to rest on the slight curve of his arse, holding and stilling his movements almost as if to assure him that it was all right, she was good, she was perfect. She could hardly move at all, but she managed that.
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Her hand slid to rest on the slight curve of his arse, holding and stilling his movements almost as if to assure him that it was all right, she was good, she was perfect. She could hardly move at all, but she managed that.