Embers in the Steam

The dying embers of the council chamber hearth cast dancing shadows across the scattered maps as Tanvar Targaryen sank deeper into his steaming tub, the rain whispering against the Red Keep's stone. A sharp rap shattered the peace, and Visenya Targaryen entered, her rain-dark cloak clinging to her shoulders. "You are late," she stated, voice low and steady. "The Eastern Shores are rarely quiet, sister," Tanvar countered with a wry smile. "Pirates and Dornish wine do not negotiate on schedule." Visenya shed her cloak, revealing leather riding attire. "Pirates can be dealt with. But your softness in council? That is a weakness our enemies exploit." He met her gaze. "And yet my words have bent more lords than your steel ever could. Do you envy the bridge I build, or fear it?" She stepped closer, unbuckling her tunic with pragmatic strength. "I see a brother who could harden his resolve—or be reminded how." The water swirled as she joined him, her muscled form pressing near, no submission in her eyes. "The alliance I seek is primal, Tanvar. One forged in heat, not words." Her hand found his cock, already hard beneath the surface. "This tells me you agree." She leaned in, witty and fierce. "Or shall I prove the fire in our blood runs hotter than any dragon's?" Visenya's lips claimed him in a blowjob, her tongue teasing while her strong hands gripped his ass, making him groan. "You taste of conquest, sister," he panted, horny and sweating. She rose, guiding his cock into her wet, dripping pussy, riding him with commanding rhythm, ass slapping against the water. "Harder," she demanded, no yielding in her tone. "Show me the teeth behind those soft words." They moved together, panting and sweating, her pussy clenching as she came with a sharp cry, then he followed, cum spilling hot between them. The fire crackled on as their shared heat lingered. "This alliance is only the beginning, brother—our dragons have yet to fly together."