AN: I wasn't going to write a second chapter, but then I had a few ideas and this happened. This is my first attempt at smut, so please be gentle with me!

To Kneel Before A Queen

"As you command, Khaleesi."

He rose on to his knees and got up from the bed, her fingers slipping from him as he did so.

Confused, she caught his hand, "Where are you going?"

"To remove my breeches," he paused, his eyebrows raised, "You did ask me to make love to you."

Urged on by the impatience her arousal had lent her, she spoke again, indignation seeping into her ordering tone, "I did, and I meant immediately."

"You want to do this properly, do you not?" He barely paused for a reply, continuing with a look of smug amusement on his face, "You asked me to make love to you. If you'd asked me to fuck you, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

Shocked and turned-on in equal measures by his language, Daenerys could only open and close her mouth in silence, reduced to simply watching as he pushed his breeches down to his ankles and kicked them off, standing naked before her for the first time. Perhaps it was his own impatience, or the confidence her assurances had given him, but he met her gaze evenly now despite his state of undress, and it suddenly seemed that all the self-denial and hiding of feelings and months of pretence had dissipated, and she finally looked upon the real Jorah Mormont.

Unconsciously, she slipped from the bed and came to stand before him, stopping several inches away. Her eyes roved over his body, drawn to explore the new territory below his waist that she had yet to study. Daenerys' anger spiked as she felt her cheeks redden as she surveyed his now undeniably obvious arousal, as if the insistent pressure on her thigh earlier hadn't informed her of that fact, and quickly diverted her interest elsewhere until she could regain her composure.

'I am no maid, I should not blush at the sight of his desire,' she sharply reminded herself, shifting her gaze over his large feet and the curve of the muscles in long legs, before bringing her eyes up to confirm that, yes, the line of hair which extended down from his chest did in fact continue all the way to his groin, spreading into a dark thatch around his erection.

Flicking her gaze back up to his face, she realised that he had been watching her make her silent assessment of his body, and she blushed all over again, cursing her childishness.

"You look beautiful when you blush," he smiled quietly, "Come here."

She obeyed, and sighed as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to her forehead as his hands dropped to her hips. The feel of his fingers on her skin reignited her desire, and she kissed the closest part of him; his throat.

He groaned and his grip on her tightened as she continued laying a trail of hot kisses from his jaw to his collarbone, nipping and licking at each point she touched, made more and more aware of his arousal as he pulled her flush against him. Forcing his hold to loosen, she continued her descent, her lips leaving a scorching path down his torso while her hands smoothed over the muscles in his back and chest, her nails leaving light but tingling lines on his skin.

She sank to her knees before him, her fingers trailing over his buttocks to rest on the backs of his thighs, her goal directly before her. She considered for a moment where to start; she'd never actually done this before, but she'd had the basic method from Doreah so she leaned forward, sliding her right hand up the front of his thigh towards her target.

Before she could touch him with either hand or mouth, he reached down and pulled her to her feet, cupping her face between his hands.


He barely whispered the word, but it registered with all the subtlety of a shout.

Seeing the confusion in her face, he explained, his thumbs rubbing over her cheekbones,

"A queen kneels before no man," he held her gaze, pleading with her to understand, before a different light entered his eyes and his pupils dilated further, pushing the blue to the very edge of his irises as he growled, "But all men must kneel before a queen."

He did not wait for her mind to register his words and what they meant, immediately repeating the same trail of kisses from her neck to her stomach as he knelt before her, his eyes level with her triangle of silver-gold curls.

The audible whine in her voice when she had complained at the few seconds he was wasting by taking off his breeches, coupled with her complete acceptance of him earlier, made him feel comfortable challenging her a little. It was immensely satisfying to shock her with his response,

"You asked me to make love to you. If you'd asked me to fuck you, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

And it was true; if she had asked him to fuck her, he still would have been in his breeches and already buried to the hilt in her. But she hadn't asked that. She wanted him to make love to her, and that was entirely different. There would be time enough for fucking later, this had to be done properly.

Still riding the confidence that had bolstered him earlier, Jorah kicked off his breeches and stood before her unembarrassed, glad to finally feel that they were equal ground. It had taken restraint not to reach out to touch her when she stood mere inches away, but he managed to hold back as she studied his body. He did not hide his smile when she blushed, her gaze obviously directed at his erection before it moved over his legs, up, and back down his chest to his groin again. She looked up at him after a moment, and blushed again when she noticed he had been observing her, so he spoke to ease her embarrassment,

"You look beautiful when you blush," she reddened further, and he couldn't hold back any longer, "Come here."

When she had begun kissing his throat, moving to run her lips and tongue over the arakh scar before she moved down his chest, he had only been thinking of the sensations she was causing, the unbelievably feel of her mouth against his skin, and he had to dig his fingers into her hips and press her against him to convince himself that this was actually happening, groaning as her mouth travelled lower and lower. He had been so caught up in tracking every movement of her lips, her tongue, her teeth, the scratch of her fingers, the warmth of her palms, that he did not notice until the last minute that she had settled herself on her knees in front of him. The tell-tale trail of her hand up his thigh and the warm puffs of breath over the head of his cock warned him of her intentions, and he quickly caught her face in his hands and pulled her up.


She only responded with a confused frown, her mouth opening to voice a question.

"A queen kneels before no man," he stared deep into her violet eyes, trying to make her understand with just a look that he did not need her to do this, did not need her to supplicate herself before him and do what she thought was expected of her, to please the man first, and think to her own enjoyment second.

'Surely she does not think I am Khal Drogo, that I would simply bend her over and take what I wanted, then toss her aside once I had been sated? She deserves to be loved, to be worshipped, not this. Never like this. Not until she understands that it doesn't have to be so one-sided,' he thought, his mind turning towards one of his late-night fantasies that made him shiver in anticipation.

"But all men must kneel before a queen."

He sank to his knees, kissing his way down her body, between her breasts with their ripe pink nipples, and over her stomach, deviating to smooth over the red blemishes where is fingers had dug too deeply into her hips earlier, before coming to rest before the apex of her legs.

"And all men must worship a goddess, in any way they can..." he breathed, gently nudging her legs further apart to allow him access, placing feather-light kisses on the soft curls of her mound, his right hand sliding up the inside of her thigh, pausing just before he reached her core.

She whined when his hand stopped moving, and she looked down to see why he had halted, only to meet his steady, if heavy-lidded, blue eyes looking back at her.

"What do you want, Daenerys?"

'Is he going to tease me now?! Make me beg?! I am the blood of the dragon, I-'

She gasped, her eyelids fluttering shut as his fingertips ghosted along the length of her folds, his touch too much and not enough at the same time.

"Tell me, and you shall have it."

She could feel his warm breath on her skin, feel his hot palm pressed against her thigh, and she couldn't form a single syllable in response.

'I-I can't say that! I can't ask him to-! But I want him to-!'

Sucking in a deep breath to steady herself, which quickly turned into a moan as nuzzled his nose into her curls, humming quietly, she released the only words she could think of,

"K-Kiss me..."

He was silent and still for a moment, and she wondered if he hadn't understood her request, but then his fingers returned, gliding deeper this time, glancing over the small bundle of nerves, making her shiver violently in anticipation. He nudged her legs further apart and leaned forward, at least she assumed he had, as she felt the warm ghost of his breath over her sensitive flesh, and then his lips against her there, his beard causing such exquisite friction, and she forgot everything but how to breathe and how to moan, occasionally managing to utter incoherent strings of words like 'please', 'Gods', 'more', 'yes'. That last one in particular, over and over, mixed with whimpers of 'Jorah' until she came apart under the ministrations of his mouth and tongue and fingers, and he had to hold her up because her legs were too weak to bear her any longer.

"K-Kiss me..."

Jorah knew she did not mean her mouth, and smiled quietly at her innocence before he continued his movements. This was all about her and her pleasure now, and while his cock twitched and ached as she uttered breathy moans each time his fingers brushed between her folds, already slick with arousal, he held back from picking her up and taking her to the bed. Coaxing her legs a little further apart, and kissed her there, massaging his lips over her skin, smooth as silk, and burning against his mouth. He did his best to ignore the heady scent of her and the way it made him ache, poking his tongue out to trace the ridge of her pelvic bone, then bringing it back and flattening it over her sensitive nub, relishing her drawn-out moan as he pressed against it, circled it quickly then finally flicked it, feeling her shudder violently. He continued, adding a second finger as he worked her from inside and out, flicking his tongue or curling his fingers in all the right places to make her moan his name and beg for more, more, until she clenched around his fingers and screamed, her fingers knotted in his hair, her knees bending dangerously as if she were about to collapse. He caught and held her, bundling her into his arms and carrying her to the bed, his lips pressed to the top of her head.

She was still floating, drifting on her high as he carried her to the bed, lying down next to her, propped up on one elbow to look down at her. She smiled lightly at the feel of his fingers brushing through her hair, her eyes still closed as she absorbed the last vibrations of her orgasm, sucking in deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

"Kiss me..." she whispered, pleased to notice the bed shift immediately and feel the warm press of her bear's soft lips on hers. The kiss was languid, his hand still in her hair as she parted her lips for his tongue, still too wrapped up in the aftershock of her peak to fully register the taste of herself mixed with his own in his mouth. Slowly, she came out of the fog and recognised the hard press of his arousal against her hip, felt his hands massaging her breasts, and was reminded of her own desire as his mouth came to rest on one of his favourite spots, sucking at the pulse point under her jaw. Her hands smoothed over his shoulders and back, tracing the shifting bulges of his muscles as he held himself over her, their kiss becoming more demanding and heated with each moment as she arched her back and ground herself against his erection.

He groaned, grazing a couple of fingers against her folds to get her attention, meeting her gaze in silent query. She nodded almost imperceptibly and raised her head to watch him enter her, slowly, carefully, suppressing a whimper as she stretched to accommodate him, filling her to the hilt. She had dreamed of riding him the way she had Drogo, but after what Jorah had done to her earlier, she didn't have the strength in her legs to maintain any sort of gratifying pace, but then he had pushed into her, and the thought was gone. It had been a long time since she had done this, so it was a little uncomfortable to begin with, but pleasure soon overtook pain as he thrust into her slowly, grinding his hips into hers at a steady pace.

He gave her a moment to recover, taking the time to collect his thoughts and regain his composure; he had been so close himself, watching and feeling her fall apart, moaning his name over and over like a prayer; if they were going to continue he didn't want to embarrass himself. It had been some time since he'd last had a woman, and an age since he'd had one he loved as deeply and completely as Daenerys, so when he finally pushed into her it took all of his resolve and more not to come immediately, focussing on the pain her nails were inflicting on his back rather than the tight wetness he was buried in until he had regained a modicum of control. He had to grit his teeth through the first few thrusts, but fell into a slow rhythm he was confident would see them both through.

It wasn't long before the pace they were keeping wasn't enough, the tight ball that had been slowly unfurling in her core had stopped expanding, and she managed to moan something about 'faster', punctuating her demand by wrapping her legs around his waist and crossing her ankles. His hips snapped forward in response, penetrating deeper as the angle had changed, his pace increasing. She clasped her hands behind his neck to pull his face down to hers; he kissed her roughly, then dropped his mouth to her breasts to toy with her nipples, all tongue and teeth as her fingers clenched the nape of his neck, feeling the wetness of those short hairs as they were soaked with sweat.

She could feel herself getting closer, feel the warmth spreading to her arms and legs, feel the pleasure building as he got ever closer to that point inside she knew would cause her to unravel. She knew he was close too, his face pressed into the crook of her neck, his breath coming in short pants that spread damp heat across her chest, the rhythm of his hips becoming quicker and less even as he began to lose the battle for control. His hands suddenly grasped her legs and hefted them higher so that they clasped around his ribs, pulling almost all the way out before driving forward again, growling from deep in his chest as she moaned loudly, so close now it was almost painful and it still wasn't enough.

"S-So c-c-close...please, Jorah...ooohhhh!"

She felt him shift his weight onto his left arm, his head still pressing into her shoulder, and then his thumb found that sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbed it in time with his thrusts, or as best he could as she peaked and melted in a great wave of ecstasy, and he lost himself not long after, his hips snapping forward in desperate abandon, biting hard into the soft skin of her shoulder to muffle his roar.

Jorah continued to rock gently into her, riding out both their releases until they had come to their senses enough to separate, his arms shaking with the effort of not collapsing over her. She hadn't really noticed the way he'd bitten her at the time, the sensation simply added to the surplus she already had and pushed her higher, but she felt his jaw unclench from her shoulder, recognised the soft caress of his lips over the marks he had undoubtedly left. She could feel the ache of it now, and while it was something new that she was unused to, she found she actually enjoyed the idea that she now bore his mark, she was now clearly his. Maybe that was why he'd done it; she assumed it wasn't common custom in Westeros for lords to bite their ladies during sex. Shuffling to his side, she rested her head on his chest and listened to the rapid thunder of his heart, her fingers absently combing through the dark hair of his torso as his own hand came to rest on her hip.

She listened to his heartbeat slow back to normal, familiarising herself with is as she lay pressed into his warm side, aware that he was still awake as his thumb rubbed circles into her skin, still lightly marked by his fingers. She was tired, but she didn't want to go to sleep, so she closed her eyes to rest them for a moment, committing his heartbeat to memory, along with the warmth of his skin, and the gentleness of his touch.

She must have drifted off, because she was woken by the vibration of her pillow, remembering as she opened her eyes that she was still resting on Jorah's chest. She realised that he was humming a tune, a song she assumed, and shifted to glance up at him. He looked so peaceful, his eyes shut and his mouth set in a gentle smile, but he opened his eyes to look at her as soon as she moved, clear blue meeting brilliant violet.

"Is that a song from Westeros?"

"Yes, it was stuck in my head, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He stroked her hair, blinking slowly as he studied her face. She realised this was the way he looked when he was thinking how beautiful she was, and it made her smile.

"What's it called?"

"Would you like me to sing it to you?" he gestured for her to lie back down, rising up on one elbow as he did.

Daenerys nodded and lay back against the pillows, her eyes drifting shut as he smoothed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead lingeringly.

He began to sing, his tone deep and rumbling as he kept his voice as low and quiet as possible,

"Oh, sweet she was/ And pure and fair/ The maid with honey/ In her hair, her hair/ The maid with honey/ In her hair/

"The bear smelled the scent/ On the summer air/ The bear, the bear/ All black and brown/ And covered with hair/ He smelled the scent/ On the summer air/ He sniffed and roared/ And smelled it there/ Honey on the summer air/

"Oh I'm a maid/ And I'm pure and fair/ I'll never dance/ With a hairy bear/ A bear, a bear/ I'll never dance/ With a hairy bear/

"The bear, the bear/ Lifted her high/ Into the air/ The bear, the bear/

"I called for a knight/ But you're a bear/ A bear, a bear/ All black and brown/ And covered in hair/

"She kicked and wailed/ The maid so fair/ But he licked the honey/ From her hair/ Her hair, her hair/ He licked the honey/ From her hair/

"Then she sighed and squealed/ And kicked the air/ She sang: my bear so fair/ And off they went/ The bear, the bear/ And the maiden fair."

By the time he'd finished the song she was fast asleep, as sweet smile on her face, and Jorah lay back slowly so as not to disturb her. The bear closed his eyes to find his rest beside his very own maiden fair.

AN: Lyrics for 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair' are property of George R. R. Martin, as are all characters and settings used.