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Harrys Potter, Master Bedroom – Potter Manor

“Oh, Harrys, my love! Yes! Just like that!” Gwyn moaned with complete abandon, clinging tightly to Lord Potter’s back, her nails scratching his back and marking him as hers.

After dealing with the viper known as Shiera Seastar, this was exactly what he needed: to lose himself in the arms and thight pussy of his beloved Gwyn, to feel the future Lady Potter surrender completely to the moment while Harrys lost himself in the scent and intense sensations of the beautiful Lady insides.

He could not help it. He loved her, plain and simple. Gwyn had demonstrated absolute loyalty toward Harrys from the moment her father had given her to him as his betrothed. The young Ashford had never hesitated, making it perfectly clear that her loyalty, love, and submission belonged exclusively to Harrys alone.

But it was not merely about the unrestricted access Gwyn granted him to her body every night, or the dedication with which the dark-haired Lady devoted herself to pleasing him between the sheets. It was everything else as well.

True to her word, after leaving Ashford, Gwyn had made an immense effort, dedicating herself fervently to learning everything necessary for her new role as Lady Potter while simultaneously making certain to care for him properly.

Harrys normally worked in his personal workshop at Potter Hall, and Gwyn always made certain that food and drink were available for him. Many times, she would accompany him without disturbing him, simply keeping him company. His beautiful fiancée would curl up on a sofa for hours, reading one of the thousands of novels in his personal library while Harrys worked on his projects.

Sometimes they talked. Many other times they did not. But her mere presence was comforting to the young Potter.

Gwyn had begun coordinating everything with remarkable precision. Meals were served at exactly the hours Harrys preferred, his study and workshop were always spotless whenever the young Lord needed them, and Gwyn had made him two new cloaks since that first gift Harrys had received with such enthusiasm.

These, unlike the first, bore the true colors of House Potter. Harrys made certain to use every one of them. Every morning he would put on one of the cloaks his fiancée had made, and whenever he removed them, they would be cleaned and perfumed again before the following day.

“Ohhh, yes, my love! Claim what is already yours and give me the joy of bearing your heirs! I will give you a dozen sons and daughters! my body belongs to you and to House of Potter Future!” the young woman cried, completely overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, her legs locked around Harrys body, her own form trembling with need while her love juices drench his length, proof enough of the numbing pleasure she was feeling.

The intense sensations led to catharsis of both, causing Harrys' entire body to shudder and, with a powerful roar, pour all his potent and magical essence into his fiancée's insides, to her evident delight.

“Ahhhhg,” she moaned, unable to articulate another word, expressing her devotion to her future husband by clinging desperately to his shoulders. The young Ashford’s eyes rolled back, followed by a relieved sigh as the encounter finally came to an end, totally sated and content.

Harrys saw the result with pride, his eyes looking at her conquered cunt, still opened and leaking his seed.

She was owned, and both of them know it.

“Oh, my love…” she whispered softly, her eyes heavy as she struggled to remain awake, but her face displaying immeasurable love, unquestionable loyalty, and an enduring desire.

Harrys smiled, gently caressing his fiancée’s face, subtle and delicate touches against her cheeks soothing her after the exhausting night.

After all, although Gwyn was devoted and eager to please her man, she was not a witch, and physically she possessed far less endurance than Harrys. The young Potter simply stroked his beloved fiancée’s hair until she finally fell completely asleep, exhausted.

Alas, Harrys’s desire was far from satisfied, and fortunately for the young Lord, he had another willing participant in mind.

“MMMHMMM.”

The young wizard looked toward the source of the muffled noise, finding himself face-to-face with Daella, the new Peverell concubine.

“I see you find yourself in a difficult situation,” Harrys said calmly, observing the state in which the princess-turned-concubine found herself.

“MMMGMM,” was all the princess managed to utter, still subjected to the punishment Gwyn had devised for her, one which even Harrys considered excessive.

Alas, he was not going to contradict his future Lady Potter in front of the family concubine. Besides, this demonstrated that, no matter how submissive and accommodating Gwyn might be toward him, his future wife possessed a spine of steel and a vindictive nerve when dealing with those who offended her.

A good omen for the family, Harrys thought to himself.

“MMMMGMMM,” Daella moaned again, this time trembling and pleading through her voice, drawing Harrys’s attention toward her.

Lord Potter sighed, observing the provocative sight before him. Gwyn had certainly outdone herself. Harrys was genuinely impressed by the first punishment the young Ashford had chosen.

Daella, a proud Targaryen princess, was kneeling in the center of a very particular runic trap, designed by the ancient Peverells to punish their most rebellious slaves—a form of “sweet torture,” according to the grimoire of the Ancient Lords of Rome.

And now that Harrys was witnessing the result of that punishment, he understood perfectly.

Daella was dressed in a thin black robe threaded with gold. The proud dragon maiden trembled, completely overwhelmed by the sensations to which Harrys had subjected her.

The runes were relatively simple, generating very low-powered magical lightning that continuously stimulated the princess womanhood until she was practically at the edge of release.

However, the true punishment was that whenever the maiden reached the point of climax, the sensation was taken from her body and stored within the runes of the circle, forcing her body to begin again, deprived of the satisfaction it desperately desired.

This continued indefinitely until the Master—in this case, Harrys—decided that enough was enough.

And considering that the young Potter had spent two uninterrupted hours lost between his fiancée thighs, it was obvious that Daella was on the verge of madness. Her breathing was ragged, her body trembling, and the counter on the runic circle showed—

“Thirteen orgasms in two hours. Well… did you enjoy the spectacle?” Harrys asked softly, gently caressing Daella’s face and making the overstimulated princess shudder and moan again, desperately wanting more contact with him.

Like a bitch in heat, not the proud Targaryen maiden that she was.

“Fourteen,” Lord Potter corrected simply, while the magic within him roared with satisfaction and dominance at the sight of Daella completely broken and ready to be taken.

It was impossible to avoid, if he was being honest. Harrys’s magic had claimed the princess as his own long ago, when he had split her pussy in half years ago, in this Manor, stealing her maidenhood for himself. The young Lord had taken her more times than he cared to remember, he had spill his seed inside her hundreds or even thousands of times, and having her close again felt like… a roar of triumph and conquest.

But unlike before…

Daella had not returned as his future wife.

She had returned as a concubine, nothing more than a toy to his pleasure, at least for the moment.

Only time will tell if that will change in the future.

Therefore, things would be different for the beautiful princess. If she wanted to regain his favor… she had a long road ahead of her, a long road on her back and knees.

Harrys quickly shook his head, caressing Daella’s face and removing her gag, knowing perfectly well what would happen next.

Daella released the most guttural and desperate moan Harrys had ever heard. Her trembling eyes stared directly into his while she opened and closed her mouth, stammering, wanting to plead but unable to form the words.

“Ha… Ha…Ha…” she attempted to say his name, but she was far too overwhelmed to manage it. The sensations were simply too intense, and Harrys did not wish to overwhelm her on her first night as a concubine of House Peverell.

At least, not yet.

Therefore, calmly and mercifully, Harrys simply caressed her head, breaking the magic of the runic trap and releasing the sensations stored within it back into Daella’s body.

The result?

“AHHHHHHHHHG!” the princess screamed as her body convulsed with overwhelming sensation. Lord Potter watched with fascination as the accumulated magical energy flooded back into her, filling the room with the familiar and intoxicating scent of Daella’s presence.

Gods… that scent, that sensation… it was simply addictive, having his woman back where she belongs.

At his feet.

“Thank you, my Lord… Thank you… Thank you,” Daella whispered, trembling before curling up on the floor of the room. Harrys levitated her toward the bed, settling her beside his fiancée and watching with amusement as both women sought the warmth of one another, far too exhausted to remain competitive.

The image was… pure ecstasy. There was no other way to describe it.

Two of his three women together, tamed and conquered.

Completely his, Harrys thought to himself, feeling that dark and savage sensation threatening to emerge. As his father had said in Dorne, it was impossible to escape one’s own blood.

And the submission of two Valyrian maidens had caused the Peverell gifts to begin emerging with the subtlety of a dragon appearing in the middle of King’s Landing: domination and absolute control, as easy as breathing.

They were his, his women, his toys and bitches to do as he please.

Harrys felt a primordial fire roaring inside him, demanding more and more. It demanded conquest. It demanded blood. It demanded submission.

The Peverell magic whispered inside him, addictive and dangerous.

Why settle for only two concubines? There was sweet Aelora, who always smiled foolishly and prettily at him, completely flushed whenever Harrys was around, he was sure that the little princess would open her legs at his command. Or even Rhae, Daella’s sister, still young but so eager to please, All Valyrian. All belonging to House Peverell. All…

“NO!” Harrys roared with iron determination, subduing the dragon within him, binding it firmly and allowing Potter magic to emerge once again.

The exhaustion forced him to his knees in the middle of the room, where he began panting heavily, completely overwhelmed as he regained control of his thoughts.

It was becoming increasingly… difficult to control.

Harrys could no longer postpone it. He had to begin studying the Peverell grimoire. This could not continue. He had to master his own mind before it was too late.

But that could wait.

Lord Potter simply sighed, lazily moving his hand and extinguishing the candles in the room before lying down between his two women, who cuddled to him at the moment they feel his presence.

Tomorrow would be a long day. He would review Shiera’s memory and, more importantly, have his conversation with Daeron Targaryen.

It would be an interesting day.

Of that, he had no doubt.

Lily Potter, Potter Manor – Westeros

“Ohhh,” the redhead moaned, reaching the height of pleasure in her prince’s arms while Baelor sighed with satisfaction and collapsed against her, after which Lily gently kissed his damp skin, her body still tingling from the amazing love making session.

Baelor placed his hands around the redhead’s waist, a tender gesture filled with affection but also possession—something Lily had noticed he had begun doing more frequently since the revelations in Dorne.

“You’re still worried,” the redheaded witch said softly, her fingers gently caressing Baelor’s chest while listening to his heartbeat quietly.

Her prince sighed heavily, but his hands remained firm and possessive around Lily.

“I… it’s just that it’s too difficult, you know? It changes everything,” Baelor said, making Lily frown.

Baelor was right, after all.

“There isn’t much you can do, darling. Harrys is an adult, Lord Potter, inheritor to everything his ancestors left behind. His resources are… infinitely greater than you imagine, there is nothing you can do” Lily said softly.

“That’s something I don’t understand, Lily,” Baelor said curiously, looking at the redhead, who returned his gaze with confusion, clearly asking him to explain.

“Why did you limit yourself to being a merchant family? With your resources, with your magic… you could have conquered the Throne. Why didn’t you?” Baelor asked with evident curiosity, making Lily look away distractedly.

The red-haired woman remained silent for a moment. Thankfully, Baelor did not pressure her for an answer, allowing her as much time as she needed to gather her thoughts.

“I’m a witch, Baelor. I’m powerful and skilled in the magical arts. And although I married James and became Lady Potter, the truth is that control over many of the family’s resources is limited to the Lord and his heir.

“I had certain privileges, of course. I was never lacking in gold, books, or knowledge. House Potter provided everything necessary to protect and raise my beloved son so that he could become the powerful Lord he is now.

“However, I never possessed complete control over the family magic. I could not risk exposing my son to magic at such an early age,” Lily said with a distant expression, thinking of that beautiful girl whom she had been forced to betray to ensure the protection of her beloved son.

“Alyssane,” Baelor said, moving his hands from Lily’s waist to her back and embracing her, offering comfort.

The redhead nodded softly and continued.

“Alyssane was… a ray of sunshine. She followed Harrys everywhere and shouted from the rooftops that she would live here with us forever. She spent her time singing beneath the great willow in the central courtyard, curled up beside old Wallace, both of them watching Harrys train with Daemon.

“However, when the rebellion ended and after Brynden ends Daemon like the coward he is, he sent his damned ravens here, all of it done suddenly to secure the last descendant of Daemon Blackfyre.

“I… I could see the moment of hesitation in Harrys’s eyes… and I also know that it was because of me that he did not act. In my mind… I did not think the girl was truly in danger. I never thought that…” the redhead said, unable to continue.

Baelor simply embraced her in silence, knowing she had not finished.

“Harrys’s actions are not a coincidence, Baelor. Little by little, my son is distancing me from House Potter, from its secrets and responsibilities. He sees my actions at Ashford as a betrayal. He judges me with good reason over why I revealed the secret of magic to save you and did not do the same for Alyssane.

“He thinks I’m a hypocrite, and part of me thinks the same, to be honest,” the redhead said as traitorous tears began streaming uncontrollably from her eyes.

“I have recurring nightmares. It’s not something Harrys really knows, but… I relive that moment, the execution, that damned spectacle. I try to move, but… I become completely paralyzed, filled with guilt and hatred toward myself for my selfishness, for prioritizing Harrys’s safety and our secret, It is guilt I will have to live with forever,” Lily said distractedly.

Baelor simply took her face in his hands and kissed her gently and sweetly, resting his forehead against Lily’s—a gesture of intimacy and mutual support that was unmistakable, filling her with love and calm, something she had not felt in a very long time.

Lily sighed, taking the prince’s face and gently caressing it.

“Baelor…” the redhead whispered, only to moan softly as her fiancé’s lips met hers, sensual and warm, understanding and filled with passion, causing the redhead to lose herself in the sensation.

Before revealing the bombshell she had kept hidden for a long time.

“I’ve lost my Moon Blood,” the redheaded witch whispered, making the air leave the prince’s lungs as he immediately understood what Lily’s words meant.

“How long ago, my love?” he asked, genuinely happy and excited by the news, making Lily smile in the same way, relieved by his positive response.

“Two moons, which means…”

Baelor interrupted her.

“The night before the trial at Ashford… although it could have been a couple of days afterward. We haven’t spent a single night apart since… what happened, my love,” Baelor said, gently caressing Lily’s face before doing the same to her belly. His gaze was warm and paternal, painfully similar to James’s expression when Lily had been pregnant with Harrys.

“If a little prince or princess is on the way… then our wedding becomes the highest priority, my love…” the prince said hesitantly, making Lily sigh and nod.

“I know. Although the difficult part will be telling Harrys. I don’t know… how he will take the news, to be honest or in what position would left our future child, he won't be a Potter, so...” the redhead said, making Baelor nod and ask:

“Do you want me to accompany you when you tell him?” he asked confidently, making Lily smile while simultaneously making an uncomfortable grimace.

“No… I don’t know, Baelor. We’re at Potter Manor, and with Harrys having absolute control over the place, confronting him can be overwhelming,” the redhead said, making the prince frown and respond firmly.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re enged and we are in this together. It’s happy news for us and for the kingdom, my love. Harrys will have to understand,” the prince said calmly and decisively.

And although Lily admired Baelor’s confidence, she knew perfectly well that he was underestimating Harrys, as well as the scale of his magical power and his spite.

unfortunately, she knows better.

“We can tell him tomorrow, after the meeting between Harrys and my father. King Daeron has agreed to undergo a magical examination at Valarr’s request. My son wants to mend the strained relations between the two families,” her prince said, making Lily smile softly before shaking her head and cuddling against Baelor’s chest again, moaning whe she feels Baelor's cock streching her open again.

The night was still young, and both of them needed the distraction.

Tomorrow would be… more complicated than they expected.