She had tasted the finest wines of Essos, the thick beer of the North, the mead from the Dornish markets. She had known ecstasy in her husband's arms, had melted into pleasure for entire nights, believing herself in heaven, dying to reach the next climax.
But how wrong she had been. The taste of Vlad's blood on her tongue was like the very essence of the wildest, most unrestrained night of passion distilled into a dark, exquisite wine, served only for her.
She felt the intoxicating essence of her husband fill her lips, and thought she might faint from pure pleasure. And when she heard Vlad let out a deep, hungry growl as he pulled her small body toward him, gripping her hips with desire, she felt her consciousness teeter at the edge of the abyss.
They writhed together for a few seconds, caught in a whirlwind of pleasure, until Daenerys, with great effort, pulled back just slightly, locking eyes with him as he stared back, both of their faces flushed and filled with lust.
Then, knowing what was to come, she tore off the white dress she wore in a single motion, revealing her slender figure and offering her bare shoulder blade to her husband.
For the first time, Vlad did not take her with tenderness; he sank his fangs into her skin with unrestrained hunger. And Daenerys, far from feeling pain, felt her legs give way beneath the most explosive, earth-shattering orgasm she had ever experienced. A loud, deep, sensual moan escaped her lips, spurring Vlad on even more, who lifted her as if she weighed nothing and slammed her against the wall with such force that the stone trembled and cracked from the impact. She felt her husband invade her, even as her blood filled her own lips.
What came after turned into a haze of untamed desire: two naked bodies intertwined in a wild, almost feral dance that resembled a fight between predators more than an act of love.
Daenerys moaned with such intensity it would have made even the most seasoned Lyseni courtesan blush, and Vlad growled like a rabid wolf, unleashed, as they alternated between the pleasures of the flesh and the ecstasy of blood, in the longest, most feral and visceral session of passion they had ever shared.
Outside the underground chamber, Meereen remained on alert. No one knew why, but the city had stayed eerily calm despite the presence of soldiers.
In the outer gardens, Jorah, Barristan, and Missandei spoke, visibly concerned about the supposed ritual Vlad was performing. Missandei had spent the past few days trying to soothe the two men. As one of the closest people to the couple, she knew Vlad would never do anything to endanger Daenerys, but even she was beginning to worry.
Suddenly, she felt a tremor in the ground, as if someone had struck the castle walls. A second later, another. Then another. The blows were strong and rhythmic. The treetops in the garden swayed, and the water in the fountain rippled. Everyone stood at once, alert.
—An attack? —asked Ser Barristan.
—No, it's not coming from outside the walls —Jorah replied, straining his ears.
Then his eyes went wide, and he bolted toward the castle, shouting:
—It's coming from inside —he cried— from the underground chamber!
The other two followed him, along with several guards on duty. Jorah, Barristan, and the soldiers ran through the corridors, filled with uncertainty, expecting to find an attack or a battle, but instead found nothing. The only thing happening was that the blows became clearer the closer they got to the chamber.
When they reached the doors, the Bloodriders blocked their path.
—Jorah Mormont —said Kharon, leader of the Bloodriders, speaking with the polished courtesy gained from long service under Vlad—. The king was clear. He is not to be disturbed. Do you plan to disobey?
—Are you insane? —Ser Barristan exclaimed beside him—. His Majesty is under attack!
The Bloodriders all burst out laughing.
—Believe me, Ser, that is not an attack —said Nork with a cheeky grin.
—Then what in the seven hells is…?
Barristan was cut off by the sudden increase in the rhythm of the pounding, which caused dust to fall from the ceiling, followed by a sensual, muffled moan, barely audible through the walls and distance.
Everyone froze. Jorah turned red as a green boy, Barristan coughed awkwardly, and Missandei covered her mouth with both hands, blushing all the way to her ears.
—There's nothing to protect here, sers —said Larron, another Bloodrider, laughing—. Best return to your posts.
The soldiers looked at one another, some stifling chuckles. Jorah turned on his heels, flustered.
—Back to your posts! —he ordered, avoiding eye contact with anyone—. And… give Their Majesties some privacy.
Two more days passed before the "mysterious tremors" finally ceased within the Great Pyramid of Meereen. They were two days in which men and women in the castle found it hard to sleep, yet spent the time chuckling and sharing lewd comments as the rumors spread. Some even began to speculate that a small heir would emerge in the coming months.
Missandei was no stranger to carnal pleasure, but she was stunned by the vigor not only of her king, but of her queen as well, who seemed capable of matching his pace. She was briefly concerned when Daenerys' handmaidens, Alyssa and Mera, were called to the underground chamber, but when they emerged minutes later, fully dressed, just a little dizzy and flushed, it became clear that her lord was just as devoted as he appeared.
Two days passed, and at last, the doors opened. Missandei waited with fresh clothes and blankets, but when she stepped inside, she found the chamber had been turned into a battlefield. The walls bore deep cracks, the floor was marked as if it had withstood a clash between titans, and the remains of the furniture lay scattered everywhere.