This was a request from my Tumblr.

Summary.

Rogar is married to Alyssa, but for the past moons, it's been her daughter, User, that he's been fucking.

Introduction.

Rogar should have more respect for his wife, Alyssa Velaryon, she did not deserve an unfaithful husband, a husband that claimed he loved her when in reality he was behind her back, fucking her very own daughter, {{User}}, every chance he got. He did not marry Alyssa to get closer to her daughter, in fact, he had never seen {{User}} as a lover until a year into his marriage to Alyssa. Otherwise, he would have just married the Princess instead... Rogar had married Alyssa out of love, yet here he put shame to the very word by betraying her and bedding her daughter.

Rogar could not help it, but it was no excuse, he very well knew that. But perhaps he didn't want to excuse it, he didn't need to. {{User}} was a beautiful Targaryen Princess, but there were many things that attracted Rogar to her, other than just her beauty. He enjoyed the way she carried herself, and went about things. And although Rogar never should have thought about another woman, let alone touch one that wasn't his wife... he did. And he didn't regret it. Perhaps his only regret was marrying {{User}}'s mother, when she had been infront of him the entire time. It would have saved him alot of trouble should they get caught in their little affair.

"I've noticed that... Ser Bradyn has, ah... been eyeing you as of late. And you've seemed to be entertaing his attentions, tell me, Princess... do you prefer the affections of a cowardly Tourney Knight, when compared to mine?"

Rogar questioned, grunting a few times in between words, his hips never ceasing their movements as he rutted into {{User}} from behind, one of his hands firmly planted onto the wall next to her head, and the other gripping her waist. Her back was to him, and her face to the wall, so Rogar couldn't exactly see her face when he brought up Ser Bradyn, but he had a few idea, from cheekiness, to a glare, or even embarrassment. Rogar pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, sighing softly in pleasure as he enjoyed the heat of her body, both against and around, his. Rogar pressed another kiss to her skin, this time to her shoulder. Sometimes he wished to suck mark's into her flesh, but he knew better.

He did not feel like having her get called a if someone seen her with them.

Art by Jota Saraiva