Oh come all ye faithful
"Okay, now drive carefully and come home safe!", Catelyn Stark was all wrapped up in one of her white coats while her red hair was covering the upper half of her face, when she closed Cersei's door and smiled.
She didn't mean it that way, Cersei was sure of that. She'd love to see them crash into another car – of course without hurting the other driver, only killing themselves.
Cersei had listened to her, her husband and Robert for hours, always smiling but only answering when absolutely necessary. She didn't care what Mrs Stark was thinking now, she only wanted to get home.
Finally, after all those years of posh Christmas parties, someone had considered seating Jaime across the table from her, so she could look and marvel at her twin brother instead of boring herself to death. Jaime had entertained her with his cocky smiles, games and silent jokes all evening, waiting for Robert to be drunk enough so they could finally escape the get-together.
"I am very sorry, but I'm really not feeling all too well." She had said, "Jaime, would you care to drop me off on your way home?" Her brother had gotten up a while earlier, saying good bye to everyone in the room, claiming he still had some files to look through at home.
"No, not at all, come along."
"You can't be leaving Cersei, it's not even midnight." One of Mrs Stark's friends had said. She didn't even remember telling the woman her first name.
"Oh no, it's been quite a busy week and Robert will surely want to stay until late, and Jaime needs to drive by our house anyway on his way home."
"I'll take good care of her." Jaime had smiled and Cersei had wanted to slap him. Now that he was standing, holding her coat and waiting for her, every blind man could have seen the bulge that had formed in his trousers. He was looking forward to 'dropping her off' far too much.
"Well, then at least let me walk you two to the door," Catelyn had said.
Maybe that had not even been a bad idea. It would at least make sure that Jaime would have to restrain himself until they were home. Cersei remembered a year where they had barely made it to the parking lot and he had fucked her against the back of the car. She had punished him for that, but Jaime had grown into the kind of man that was only turned on by breaking the rules, one of them being their affair, the other one fucking her whenever and wherever it seemed convenient to him. Not that she disliked either of both in general, but she preferred being inside at least before she was undressed, especially when temperatures had dropped below 30°F.
Now, that they were turning right on the road and the townhouse of the Starks was disappearing from their eyesight, Jaime put his right hand on her upper tight, making little circles with his fingers.
He parked the car around the corner when they finally arrived at Cersei's and Robert's place. The children were at Tyrion's probably already feeling sick from eating too many cookies and chocolate and Robert would not come home until tomorrow afternoon when he had slept off.
Jaime was already tugging at her red dress (it was much too long for his sense now, he had stared at his sister ass all night whenever she had stood up).
"For God's sake Jaime, wait until we're inside." She felt his erection growing bigger against her ass.
He laughed. "Just shut up; you're probably already more wet than I am hard." His breath was warm against her neck and ear as she fumbled for the keys and finally succeeded in opening the front door. It was late enough, maybe they had gotten in unnoticed, otherwise she would hear it from her neighbors tomorrow morning.
Eventually inside, Jaime did not waste a single second but smashed the door close with his foot, his hands busy with undressing his sister. He had waited for this all evening, listening to the Starks' rants about some new trading laws and butter cookie recipes. He had marveled at Cersei all evening. She wore the dress he had bought her for his birthday and the golden necklace with the small lion they had gotten together in Moscow last year and whose duplicate he wore underneath his shirt.
He loved playing games with her at these kinds of parties Robert and their father made them attend. He would secretly touch her when no one was looking. First only in a familiar way, like every brother would touch his sister now and then, but the aim was to become more and more bold and reckless with every time he succeeded (which could both mean Cersei not shushing him away or even enjoying it). Two years ago, on a Baratheon New Years Eve Party, this had led to an excessive fingering beneath the tablecloth, followed by a short excursion to the bathroom to finish what he had started with his mouth. Still, Cersei wasn't that bad at playing either, he thought, as he shoved her on the kitchen counter, no time to carry her to a bed or couch. She liked to sit on top of that thing and being fucked, she didn't even use it anymore for cooking or baking.
Three years ago, on a Christmas Party as well, he had sat down opposite to her at the table. He had actually wanted to use the party to lobby with some Targaryen lawyers, but halfway through the evening, he had felt Cersei's foot on his trousers. He could not remember getting that hard in public ever before. She had finished him off later, stroking him until he came into her hands as hard as if it had been her cunt. It was the evil and filthy look she had given him that had eventually finished him off. She had not allowed him to look away from her normally green eyes that had turned black with desire.
Now she was spreading her legs for him, kissing him fiercely while she was playing with his hair and he was trying to shove her dress up to her waste. As he had succeeded, she put her legs around him dragging him towards her. He put his hand between her thighs and he had not been wrong earlier: She was wet and had been for a while. It made him grin.
"Jaime, please." She mumbled hazily.
He massaged and sqeezed everything his fingers good reach, listening to Cersei's sweet moans and pleads. You're unfair. Jaime, please, you're not fair. He entered her with one finger, and Jesus, she was more ready for him than he had thought. As he first moved, she roared like a lioness and put her forehead against his, cursing and praising him both the same time.
"Why so silent, sister? We're alone; you can be as loud as you wish." He whispered into her ear with a hoarse voice and she responded to it with heavy breathing and some sweet sounds he had no name for, escaping her throat.
He loved driving her mad and feeling her hips ache for him, begging him to fuck her and give her the release she wanted. She led a multi-national company almost on her own but when she spread her legs for him, he determined the pace and manner.
"If you want me to fuck you, you'll simply have to ask, Cersei."
She hissed something.
"What was that?" He shoved a second finger inside her.
"Fuck." She said.
"I couldn't quite hear that, sweetling." He teased her.
"For God's sake, Jaime fuck me or I'll make you regret it!" she screamed.
He was out of his trousers and inside her cunt in no time the moment she had closed her lips. He loved to hear how she growled and bent her head back. Her fingers were in his hair as if she was holding on to something to not lose her mind.
Fucking her was, at it usually was, rough and hectic. She didn't like to go slow unless they were in a bed, tired or needed comfort. He liked it better this way, hard and reckless against every surface they could find, sure that it would leave marks on both of them and the next morning would great them with aching limbs and a general, soar feeling.
She urged him to go faster and harder but he kept his pace. At some point she leant back, bending her back up so he could use the full angle and get deeper inside her. Her moans had gotten louder by now and her breathing faster. Listening to the effect he seemed to have on her made his eyes blacken and he finally granted her wish, thrusting into her so hard she started to scream, only to satisfy his own lust.
The clenching of her cunt was what made him come. She had this way of tightening around him in such a wonderful way – it pushed him over the edge every time. That and her panting, the sounds she made when she came and his name on her lips.
She reached for his chest, carefully sitting up again, when her eyesight became clear and her breath had normalized. Cersei leaned her head against his shoulder, all of a sudden now feeling a little cold.
"You wanna go to bed?" He asked silently, caressing the small of her back, recovering from his own climax still.
She nodded in silence and he carried her upstairs to her bedroom. He liked that she and her husband had separate bedrooms. Robert snored so loud in his sleep, Cersei had, about a year ago or so, decided to make one of the guest rooms her bedroom. It was bigger than Robert's room and had large, beautiful white windows. Jaime laid his twin down on the bed, closing the door behind them, before he joined her. He carefully freed her from the dress and her stockings until she beautifully laid before him, her hair all mussled up but smiling in contempt. He opened the last two buttons of his shirt before he joined her, lovingly kissing her shoulders, beautiful curves and hands. They fell asleep next to each other, arms intertwined, legs intertwined, hearts beating together and no one could tell where one of them ended and the other one began.
"I love you Jaime," she hummed into his ear before she fell asleep, "With every little cell in my body and the whole of my soul."
The early morning hours of December 19th brought heavy snow and rain. It had already ceased again when Tyrion stopped in front of the Baratheon mansion to drop his niece and nephews off. He had tried calling his sister three times, since they had woken up but she had not answered her phone, neither had Robert. An unpleasant feeling overcame him, when he saw the black Porsche that was parked around the corner of his sister's house.
"You guys wait in the car. I'll be back in a second."
As he looked back to them, Joffrey and Myrcella were both busy with their cells and Tommen was looking at his Nintendo. He had all the time in the world if it was up to them.
He opened the door with his spare key. Inside it was warm and at first glance, he thought that nobody was home. He was, however, proven wrong when he looked towards the kitchen. Cersei's high heels, pair of trousers and some magazines were on the ground next to the kitchen counter. Something or someone had carelessly shoved them down, obviously not caring much about the mess.
He growled in anticipation and went up the stairs. They didn't have any pets.
He didn't even bother knocking, he knew exactly what he would find inside Cersei's room. When he saw his siblings lying intertwined on the bed he knocked anyway, to wake them up.
"Rise and shine lovebirds, your children are downstairs in the car and I don't know what they would think of finding their uncle Jaime in their mother's bed." Tyrion crossed his arms, waiting until Jaime had awoken, tiredly looking at his little brother.
"No."
"No, what?" Jaime asked, yawning.
"No, spare me the view and explanation. Next time just take a hotel room for God's sake, or just warn me so I don't have to walk in on you another time."