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Aerion sat submerged in the copper tub, his pale skin flushed a bruised sort of pink from the heat. The steam in the bedchamber was thick enough to swallow the flickering candlelight, smelling of crushed mint and expensive oils.
His belly, heavy and distended with the weight of a single, massive alpha-sired babe, breached the surface of the water.
“Duncan,” Aerion called out. His voice was thin, raspy with the strain of his third trimester. “Get in here.”
Dunk’s massive frame seemed to shrink the room as he moved further into the clouds of mint-scented steam. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on a flickering wall sconce, his expression carefully neutral despite the thick, oppressive heat of the bedchamber.
“The prince called?” Dunk asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate in the very water of the tub.
“The prince is freezing,” Aerion snapped, though the water was hot enough to scald a lesser man.
He splashed a hand, sending a spray of water onto Dunk’s scuffed leather boots. “The fire is dying, the air is thin, and my body feels as though it’s being pulled apart by wild horses. Do you intend to stand there like a statue all night?”
Dunk stepped further into the room, the heat immediately causing a sheen of sweat to break out on his forehead. He moved toward the hearth, “I’ll add another log then, my prince. And I can bring more hot water from the kitchens if you find the temperature lacking.”
“I find you lacking,” Aerion hissed, leaning his head back against the rim of the tub. He closed his eyes, his silver-gold hair floating like pale seaweed around his shoulders.
“Come here. My feet… they’re swollen. I can feel the pulse in my toes, and it’s driving me to distraction.”
“I can fetch the servants, your grace,” Dunk offered, his voice low and steady. “Or perhaps the Maester? He has salves for the swelling. I’ll go find them and bring them back.”
“No,” Aerion snapped, his voice tight with the strain of his own bulk. “I don’t want a dozen fluttering hands and whispering mouths near me. I want peace. And I want the ache to stop.”
“But, my prince, I am hardly trained for—”
“I didn’t ask for a lecture on your qualifications, Ser Duncan,” Aerion interrupted, his silver-blonde hair clinging to his damp neck. “I asked for you. Come closer. And take that stool.”
Dunk hesitated for a heartbeat before dragging the low wooden stool toward the side of the copper tub.
He sat, his knees nearly reaching his chin, looking entirely out of place in the opulent, steamy room.
With a wet, heavy splash and a grunt of genuine exertion, Aerion shifted. He gripped the sides of the tub, his knuckles white, and hauled one foot — then the other — out of the water.
He propped them heavily onto the wide copper rim, the water dripping down the side and pooling near Dunk’s boots.
The prince’s ankles were thick and puffy, the skin taut from the fluids and the immense pressure of the babe sitting high and heavy in his belly. He gestured at his feet with a trembling hand, his breathing shallow.
“Massage them,” Aerion commanded, his tone dropping from a snap to a tired, desperate plea. “They ache… Gods,”
Dunk sighed, a sound that rumbled in his massive chest, and sank onto a low stool.
He reached for a vial of sweet almond oil.
As he took Aerion’s foot into his hands, the sheer scale of the difference between them was laid bare. Dunk’s hands were calloused, huge enough to wrap entirely around Aerion’s ankle.
“You’re tense, my prince,” Dunk murmured, his thumbs digging into the arch of Aerion’s foot.
“I am carrying your bastard, you thick-skulled lout,” Aerion hissed, though his head fell back against the rim of the tub as the pain began to ebb. “He is huge. He has your size. Every time he kicks, I feel as though my ribs will crack like dry kindling.”
Dunk looked down at the swell of Aerion’s middle. A soft, guilty look crossed his face. “I’m sorry, Aerion. I never meant to cause you such a burden.”
Aerion let out a sharp, mocking laugh that turned into a wince. “Sorry? You’re sorry? You plant your seed in a Prince of the Blood and then offer apologies? You should be on your knees thanking the Seven I don’t have you gelded.”
He didn’t stop there.
Aerion launched into a familiar tirade, his insults biting and precise, meant to remind Dunk exactly where a low born alpha like him stood in relation to a dragon.
Dunk remained silent, focusing on the Prince’s swollen feet, until his thumb pressed firmly into a specific point near Aerion’s heel.
Aerion’s voice caught in his throat and the insults died instantly.
Aerion’s head snapped back, his breath catching in a dry throat. A long, shuddering moan broke from his lips, a sound stripped of all pride, which sounded less like a royal decree and more like a desperate plea for more.
Dunk froze.
The atmosphere in the room changed, growing heavy and stifling. The scent of the alpha — the smell of wet earth and forest — thickened as his pulse began to race.
It had pressed against the omega’s milky sweet scent.
His grip tightened around the prince’s foot, his skin turning a deep, hot red as his blood rose.
Aerion watched him closely.
He studied the way the big man’s body went rigid and the way his pupils dilated until his eyes were almost entirely black. The prince scanned him from head to toe, noting the aggressive set of his jaw and his heavy breathing, and a predatory idea took hold.
A cruel, beautiful smirk played on Aerion’s lips. He didn’t look away.
“Since you are so fond of my feet, Ser… lick them,” he commanded. “I want to feel your tongue on my skin. Now.”
Dunk hesitated for only a heartbeat before he leaned down.
He pressed kisses to the high arch of Aerion’s foot, his growing stubble grazing the sensitive skin, before his tongue trailed over the prince’s toes.
“A-ah..” Aerion arched his back, a high, broken sound escaping him.
Duncan swirled his tongue around the base of Aerion’s toe, tracing the swollen curve with a slow, agonizing deliberation.
The texture was a contrast of extremes: Aerion’s skin, softened and hypersensitive from the scald of the bathwater, and Dunk’s tongue, raspy and assertive.
“Yes…” Aerion rasped, his fingers digging into the copper rim until the metal bit into his palms. “Just like that…”
Dunk’s large hand remained wrapped firmly around Aerion’s ankle, pinning the limb in place as he worked.
He moved his mouth to the high, sensitive arch of the Prince’s foot. With a low, guttural hum that Aerion felt deep in his own marrow, Dunk began to lick upward, a long, wet stroke that traveled from the heel to the ball of the foot.
The sensation was overwhelming.
Every nerve ending in Aerion’s lower body seemed to catch fire. As Dunk’s tongue ventured between his toes, flickering with a rhythmic, licking pressure, Aerion felt the heavy weight of the babe in his belly shift.
The child kicked, a solid, demanding thump against his ribs, but for once, the prince didn’t hiss in pain. He only let out a shaky, melodic whimper, his head lolling to the side.
Dunk’s breathing was loud now, a series of ragged puffs against Aerion’s damp skin.
He grew bolder, taking the prince’s toe fully into his mouth, sucking with a slow, drawing pressure that sent a direct jolt of lightning to Aerion’s groin.
The alpha’s scent was a thick fog now, drowning out the mint and the oil, demanding Aerion’s submission even as the prince issued the commands.
“More,” Aerion managed to choke out, his silver-gold hair plastered to his forehead.
“Under the heel… use your teeth, Duncan. Just a little.”
Dunk obeyed, his nibbling teeth grazing the tender skin of the heel, followed immediately by the soothing, wet lap of his tongue.
He looked up then, his dark eyes clouded with a primal, focused intensity that stripped away the hedge knight and the Prince, leaving only the alpha and the heavy, aching omega.
Aerion’s chest heaved, his breath coming in shallow hitches as he pulled his foot back from Dunk’s mouth. The skin was glistening, sensitized to the point of throbbing, and the air hitting the dampness felt like ice compared to the alpha’s heat.
“Stop,” Aerion commanded, his voice trembling but regaining its jagged edge of authority.
Dunk pulled back, his lips wet and his jaw tight. He looked dazed, his large hands still hovering near the rim of the tub as if he couldn’t quite remember how to let go.
“Stand up,” Aerion hissed, his silver eyes narrowed, tracking the flush that crept up Dunk’s thick neck.
When the knight rose to his full, towering height, he practically blocked out the candlelight, casting a massive shadow over the prince.
“Take off your clothes.”
Dunk’s expression flickered, the haze of the scent-driven moment clashing with the ingrained caution of a man who had spent his life surviving on the fringes of power.
“My prince…” he started, his voice a low, gravelly warning. “I have duties. The guard will be rotating soon, and the servants— if someone were to walk in and see the King’s son and his guard in such a state…”
“My duties are to the realm, and yours,” Aerion interrupted, his voice cutting through Dunk’s protest like a Valyrian steel blade, “are to me. To your prince. To the mother of your child.” He gestured vaguely to the massive, rounded swell of his belly. “Do you think I care for the whispers of stableboys and scullery maids? Strip.”
A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corners of Dunk’s mouth — a rare, dangerous expression that reminded Aerion that for all his talk of ‘Sers’ and ‘Princes,’ Dunk was the one with all the strength to break him in half.
He knew exactly what Aerion was doing, using his position to demand what his body was already begging for.
Methodically, Dunk began to unbuckle his sword belt, letting it hit the stone floor with a heavy thud. He pulled his tunic over his head, revealing a torso built of corded muscle and old scars, his skin bronzed and gleaming with sweat from the steam.
When he finally stood bare before the tub, the sheer scale of him seemed to make the room even smaller, the alpha’s scent now an undeniable, suffocating force.
Aerion’s eyes traveled downward, his throat going dry as he took in the sight of the alpha’s thick cock.
He shifted, the water sloshing over the sides of the copper tub as he made room, as much room as an omega in his third trimester could manage.
“Get in,” Aerion whispered, the command losing its bite and turning into a raw, desperate invitation. “The water is cooling. Warm me.”
The copper tub groaned under their combined weight, water cascading over the rim in a hot, rhythmic waterfall as Dunk settled his massive frame against the back.
Aerion didn’t wait; with a grunt of effort, he maneuvered himself, turning his back to the alpha and sinking down between Dunk’s spread thighs.
He leaned back, his silver hair matting against Dunk’s damp shoulder, his heavy, distended belly resting like a warm stone atop the knight’s lap. The water that remained in the tub was trapped between them, heated further by the furnace of Dunk’s skin.
“Better,” Aerion hissed, his eyes fluttering shut as the support of Dunk’s solid chest relieved the ache in his spine.
Dunk didn’t hesitate this time. His large, calloused hands reached around Aerion’s sides, his palms grazing the tight, stretched skin of the prince’s stomach before moving upward.
His fingers, stained with the scent of almond oil and alpha musk, found Aerion’s chest.
The prince’s breasts were swollen with milk, the skin pale and translucent, mapped with delicate blue veins that led toward the dark, sensitive nipples.
As Dunk’s thumbs began a slow, rolling grind against the peaks, a thin, pale pearl of milk escaped, marbling the clear bathwater.
“You’re leaking for me,” Dunk murmured against the shell of Aerion’s ear, his voice a vibration that Aerion felt through his entire ribcage.
Aerion let out a high, fractured moan, his head falling back into the crook of Dunk’s neck. “It hurts… they’re so tight. Pinch them, Dunk. Make me bleed if you must... just help me ease the pressure.”
Dunk’s grip tightened, his blunt fingernails scraping lightly over the leaking tips before he caught them between his knuckles, tugging with a firm, possessive strength.
Each pull elicited a sharp gasp from Aerion, his body arching in the narrow tub, his rounded middle bobbing in the water.
The alpha’s scent was overwhelming now, and Aerion drank it in, his pride finally drowning in the steam.
“Does it hurt?” Dunk whispered, his thumb catching a drop.
“It’s full,” Aerion groaned, leaning his forehead against Dunk’s neck. “It’s so tight… it burns.”
Dunk began to massage the heavy tissue, his movements steady and rhythmic as he squeezed gently to ease the mounting pressure.
Warm milk trailed down his fingers, pale ribbons spiraling and dissolving into the steaming bathwater.
While he worked to soothe the ache above, his other hand drifted downward.
Beneath the surface, his fingers glided over Aerion’s thigh before finding the slick, swollen heat of his entrance.
“H-hah… ye-yes, right there…” Aerion’s breath hitched, his head arching back to press firmly against Dunk’s shoulder.
At the first tentative brush of a finger against his opening, Aerion’s body reacted instantly.
His breasts began to leak more freely, the milk ivory against his skin, while Dunk felt the friction give way to a deep, natural slickness that even the surrounding water couldn’t mask.
“Bed,” Aerion gasped.
“Take me to the bed, Dunk... Now...”
Dunk moved with a grace that belied his size.
He climbed out of the tub and wrapped Aerion in a soft linen towel, carrying him to the high bed as if he were made of spun glass.
He laid Aerion down, but before he could move, Aerion was pulling him down. The prince immediately crawled on top, his movements slow and labored by the weight of the babe.
Aerion’s gaze dropped to Dunk’s thick length, where he was already straining, thick and rigid with a need that matched Aerion’s own.
He let out a low, needy sound at the sight, the sheer scale of the alpha beneath him was staggering.
He leaned down, his silver hair falling forward like a silken curtain around Dunk’s thighs.
When he took the broad, blunt head of Dunk’s cock into his mouth, it was with a desperate, hungry swallow that made Dunk’s entire body shudder.
“Gods, Aerion…” Dunk groaned, his head slamming back against the headboard, his large hands instinctively coming up to steady Aerion’s head, his fingers digging into the omega’s silver locks.
Aerion was relentless.
Aerion used his tongue to swirl greedily around the sensitive head, tasting the salt and the heat, before plunging downward again.
He took as much as he could, his throat tightening around the massive girth, his eyes watering from the depth of it. Each time he pulled back to the tip, the wet, suctioning sounds grew louder, a visceral testament to how slick and ready he had become.
“Fuck...” Dunk groaned, his fingers tangling deep into Aerion’s silver hair. His hips buckled as Aerion worked on him.
Aerion didn’t stop, his mouth working with a hungry, rhythmic suction that made Duncan’s vision swim.
A thin, silver thread of saliva connected them, gleaming in the candlelight, before Aerion plunged back down to take every inch.
The sound of it — the lewd, wet slurping and Aerion’s muffled, throat-deep moans — drove Dunk to the brink, his knuckles turning white as he buried his hands in that silver hair, his hips beginning to buck upward in a silent, primal plea for more.
Aerion pulled back suddenly, the wet suction breaking with a final, lewd pop.
He looked up at Dunk, whose chest was heaving, his eyes blown wide and glazed with a bone-deep exhaustion from the sheer intensity of the Prince’s mouth.
Aerion’s lips were flushed and slick, upturned in a feline smile, predatory, lustful, and entirely triumphant.
Slowly, he crawled up the knight’s body.
The weight of the babe between them was a warm, heavy pressure as Aerion straddled him, his knees pinning Dunk’s muscular thighs to the furs.
He reached down, his fingers trembling only slightly as he guided the alpha’s thick, wet length to his entrance.
With a sharp inhale, he lowered himself.
It was a slow, agonizingly perfect slide; the friction was immense. Aerion’s head snapped back, a broken moan escaping his throat as he felt the sheer girth stretching him wide open, filling the hollow ache inside him that had been tormenting him since the bath.
Dunk let out a low, guttural groan that vibrated through both of them.
His massive hands flew to Aerion’s hips to steady the descent, but then, as if by instinct, one hand drifted upward.
His palm settled firmly against the taut, rounded curve of Aerion’s pregnant belly — a protective, grounding gesture, holding the omega and the babe steady.
With Dunk’s hand acting as an anchor, Aerion set the pace. He began to rock his hips in a slow, punishing rhythm, his silver hair sweeping across his damp shoulders.
He took every inch, his internal muscles clenching around Dunk with every downward press, his expression one of pure, agonizing ecstasy as he finally claimed the relief he had demanded.
Aerion sat tall on Dunk’s lap, his silver hair a mess of damp silk against his flushed back.
He began to move with a heavy, deliberate focus, lifting his hips high enough to nearly lose the connection before sliding all the way back down, burying Dunk’s thick, wet length deep within his heat.
The sounds were visceral, the wet, suctioning squelch of Dunk’s girth entering him and the heavy, rhythmic slap of Aerion’s thighs against Dunk’s powerful ones. Each time he bottomed out, a sharp, broken moan was forced from his lungs.
“Ah… D-Duncan…” Aerion gasped, his eyes blown wide and glassy.
He started to roll his hips, a grinding, circular motion that forced Dunk to stretch even wider.
The movement was slow and grueling, the friction of their slick skin creating a lewd, sliding noise that echoed in the quiet room. Aerion’s fingers dug into Dunk’s massive shoulders for leverage, his knuckles white as he pushed himself harder, faster, his pregnant belly swaying slightly with the force of his own momentum.
Dunk’s hands were a permanent fixture on Aerion’s hips, his fingers sinking into the pale flesh to guide the descent. His own breath coming in ragged, guttural hitches.
But as Aerion’s movements grew more frantic, his breath coming in sharp gasps and his silver hair flying as he rode himself on Dunk, the alpha’s protective instincts flared through.
He could feel the way Aerion’s pregnant belly swayed with the violence of his own pace, the skin hot against Dunk’s palm.
“Aerion… wait,” Dunk rasped, his voice thick and strained.
He tightened his grip on the Prince’s hips, trying to slow the downward momentum. “Slow down… you’re going to exhaust yourself. The babe…”
Aerion didn’t listen.
He let out a frustrated moan, his fingers clawing at Dunk’s chest as he forced himself down even harder, the wet squelch of their joining loud in the air. “Don’t… stop me…” he choked out, his eyes rolling back. “I need… I need you… deeper…”
Dunk immediately sat up, his back against the headboard, his large hands locking onto Aerion’s waist to keep him steady. “...I have you.”
Then, he leaned in and took one of Aerion’s leaking nipples into his mouth. He didn’t just lick it; he pulled the whole tip in, sucking hard and steady.
A low, broken moan escaped Aerion’s throat, his head falling back as his fingers tangled deep into Dunk’s hair.
He gripped tight, his nails grazing Dunk’s scalp in a desperate search for anchor as he gasped, “Right there— yes, there...”
Aerion loved the way the suction felt, a deep, pulling pressure that made his lower half throb even harder.
Every time Dunk’s tongue swirled around the bud, Aerion’s internal muscles clamped down tight around Dunk’s cock in a frantic, pulsing reaction.
The room smelled of sweat and milk, filled with the messy sounds of Dunk’s mouth sucking on the omega’s nipples and Aerion’s high-pitched gasps.
But the pleasure suddenly hit a wall.
“My back,” Aerion suddenly gasped, his face twisting in pain.
He gripped Dunk’s massive forearms, his knuckles turning white. “Duncan, my back… I cannot stay like this. The weight… it hurts.”
The heavy curve of his belly was pulling on his spine, and the upright position was making his muscles cramp.
He was still full and stretched open by Dunk, but the ache in his lower back was becoming sharper than the pleasure.
Dunk stopped sucking immediately, his lips wet and glistening.
He saw the genuine strain in Aerion’s eyes and felt the way his body had gone from fluid to stiff.
Dunk didn’t pull out.
He kept their bodies locked together as he moved, his massive arms sliding under Aerion’s to lift him with a strength that made the Prince feel weightless.
He carefully flipped Aerion onto his back, the furs bunching beneath them as Dunk moved between his thighs.
The position laid Aerion completely open, his heavy, rounded belly resting against his own chest, and his entrance stretched wide and inviting.
“There,” Dunk grunted, his eyes fixed on where they were joined. “Is that better?”
Aerion couldn’t even answer.
He just let out a long, broken moan, his head tossing on the pillows. The new angle allowed Dunk to sink even deeper, hitting spots that made Aerion’s toes curl.
Dunk began to work his cock into Aerion’s tight hole with a slow, devastating power.
He used his full weight, leaning forward to drive himself in until his groin slammed against Aerion’s pale buttocks with a heavy, wet slap.
The sound of the friction was loud. A messy, sliding squelch that filled the room as Dunk’s thick length disappeared into the pulsing heat of Aerion’s cunt.
“Gods, Duncan… yes,” Aerion sobbed, his hands reaching out to grab the headboard for leverage.
Dunk was relentless. He held Aerion’s legs firmly against his shoulders, his hands moving down to grip the pregnant omega’s thighs to keep him from sliding away.
He began to thrust with a steady, rhythmic force, his cock sliding in and out of the tight, milking grip of Aerion’s entrance.
Every time he pushed in, Aerion’s belly shifted and wobbled, and more milk leaked from his chest, smearing over his own skin and Dunk’s heaving stomach.
Aerion was completely helpless under him, his legs pinned high, his body shaking with every deep, filling stroke.
The bed creaked under the alpha’s strength, and Aerion’s legs shook against Dunk’s skin. He kept a firm hold on Aerion’s ankles, pressing the Prince’s legs down against his shoulders to ensure every thrust went as deep as possible.
The position was intense, stretching Aerion’s entrance to its limit, but Dunk made sure to keep his weight off Aerion’s belly, bracing his own massive arms on either side of the Prince’s head.
Every time Dunk drove forward, his groin hit Aerion with a heavy, fleshy thud that made the Prince’s entire body shudder.
“Dunk… ah, gods, it’s… it’s too much,” Aerion whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut, his face flushed a deep, feverish red.
Dunk leaned down, his chest hovering just an inch above Aerion’s. “I’ve got you,” he rumbled, his voice vibrating against Aerion’s skin.
He slowed the pace for a heartbeat, leaning in to lick a stray drop of milk from Aerion’s collarbone before kissing the pulse point in his neck. “Tell me if it hurts. I’ll stop.”
“Don’t you dare stop,” Aerion hissed, his fingers clawing at Dunk’s triceps. “I want… all of it. Give me… everything.”
With that permission, Dunk’s restraint snapped.
He began to hammer into Aerion with a steady, punishing rhythm. The friction was incredible; Aerion’s tight hole gripped him like a vice, pulling at him with every withdrawal and clenching desperately with every plunge. Dunk’s cock was gorged to its limit, the veins dragging against Aerion’s sensitive internal walls.
Aerion’s head tossed wildly on the pillow, his silver hair fanning out like a halo. He was drowning in the sensation of being filled so completely.
The sound of their joining grew louder, a messy, slurping suction echoing with every stroke as Dunk’s seed began to build.
Dunk’s breathing turned into guttural, animalistic snarls.
He could feel the contractions starting deep in Aerion’s core, his mate was close, his internal muscles milking Dunk’s shaft with frantic, rhythmic pulses. Dunk reached one hand down, trailing it over the top of Aerion’s belly one last time to make sure he was okay, before gripping Aerion’s hip so hard he left faint marks.
“Aerion… A-ah, I’m going to…” Dunk choked out, his muscles locking up.
“Do it,” Aerion screamed, his legs shaking on Dunk’s shoulders. “...Fill me— Fill me!”
Dunk gave one final, deep thrust, burying himself so far inside that Aerion’s breath left him in a silent gasp.
He could feel every thick, hot pulse of his own climax flooding Aerion’s womb, the pressure of the knot ensuring that not a single drop escaped.
He stayed heavy and still, his arms braced on the mattress to keep from crushing Aerion’s belly, even as his hips twitched with the final, dying pulses of his release. Inside, the knot remained rock-hard, keeping Aerion stretched to his absolute limit.
The Prince was a sobbing, shivering mess beneath him, his body continuing to spasm around the massive intrusion as he came down from the peak.
The room grew quiet, save for the wet, heavy sounds of their breathing and the occasional, rhythmic squelch of Aerion’s muscles trying to accommodate the knot.
Dunk reached down, his large hand finding Aerion’s and interlacing their fingers, squeezing tight as the heat between them slowly began to settle into a deep, throbbing ache of completion.
As the initial rush of the climax began to settle into a deep, heavy throb, Aerion’s legs finally slid down from Dunk’s shoulders, his muscles feeling like water. He was still trembling, his breath hitching in his chest as he felt the hard, stubborn pressure of the knot keeping them fused together.
“S-Stay,” Aerion whispered, his voice cracking with exhaustion. He reached up, his fingers weakly clutching at Dunk’s brawny arms.
“Don’t pull out. Stay… inside.”
Dunk nodded, his face dripping with sweat and his eyes filled with a soft, lingering heat. He knew the prince’s back was still aching, and he didn’t want the weight of his body to distress the babe.
With a slow, careful grunt of effort, Dunk began to shift.
He lowered his massive frame, bracing his weight on his forearms to keep from crushing the smaller man.
He leaned down, his shadow falling over Aerion’s flushed face, and pressed his mouth to the prince’s in a deep, bruising kiss, tasting the salt of sweat and the frantic edge of Aerion’s breath.
He drank in the prince’s soft whimpers, his tongue sweeping slow and possessive against Aerion’s, sealing the plea to stay. When he finally pulled back just an inch, their breaths mingled in the narrow space between them, thick and humid.
He moved with agonizing slowness to ensure he didn’t tear or hurt Aerion while the knot was still at its fullest.
Keeping his cock buried deep within that tight, pulsing heat, Dunk slid his weight to the side. He used his massive arms to guide Aerion with him, turning the Prince onto his side as he followed the movement.
They ended up face-to-face, curled together on the damp furs.
Dunk’s thick length was still locked firmly inside Aerion, the knot acting like a plug that kept all of Dunk’s warmth trapped within the Prince’s womb.
Aerion let out a long, shaky sigh of relief, his forehead coming to rest against Dunk’s chin.
With their legs tangled together on their sides, the pressure on Aerion’s back vanished, replaced by the grounding weight of Dunk’s thigh hooked over his hip.
Dunk’s large hand moved instinctively to Aerion’s belly, his palm cupping the rounded curve where the babe was surely settling after the commotion.
He began to rub slow, soothing circles over the skin, his thumb occasionally brushing the undersides of Aerion’s breasts, which were still slick with milk.
“Better?” Dunk rumbled, his voice a low vibration that Aerion felt directly through his own body.
“Yes,” Aerion breathed, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt the slow, rhythmic pulsing of the knot beginning to soften, though it still held them fast. “Don’t move, Duncan. Just… stay like this.”
They lay there in the quiet, the only sound the crackle of the dying hearth and the wet, heavy suction of their bodies whenever one of them shifted.
Dunk kept his hand splayed wide over the Prince’s rounded belly, his thumb tracing slow, rhythmic circles.
He felt a small, sharp nudge against his palm, a tiny limb protesting the lack of space.
“How is he?” Dunk asked softly, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through both of them. “The babe… did we wake him?”
Aerion let out a tired, huffing laugh, his eyes half-closed as he leaned his forehead against Dunk’s chest. “Wake him? He hasn’t stopped kicking since you sat up. He’s restless, Dunk. And so heavy.” Aerion shifted slightly, a small wince crossing his face. “Sometimes I feel as though I’m carrying a sack of stones. He takes up all the room I have, and then demands more.”
Dunk’s smile was small and private, his fingers pressing a little firmer against the taut skin. “He’s going to be strong, then.”
“He is definitely a boy,” Aerion murmured with a touch of his usual arrogance, though it was softened by exhaustion. “No girl could be this large or this demanding. He’s already trying to rule me from the inside. He has your stubbornness, I think. He’s far too big for his own sake.”
Dunk chuckled, the sound deep in his throat.
He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to Aerion’s damp temple, his heart full of a strange, heavy pride. “A boy, then. A little knight.” He paused, his gaze dropping to where his hand covered the life they had made. “Have you thought on it? What you’re going to name him?”
Aerion quieted for a moment, his breathing leveling out as he looked down at their joined hands. The predatory fire from earlier was gone, replaced by a rare, shimmering clarity.
“Maelor,” Aerion whispered, the name sounding ancient and regal in the dim light.
“His name will be Maelor.”