Like a damsel cast away in her tower awaiting her knight, she waited. Jules craved to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin and to breathe the fresh summer air that danced through the streets. Instead, all she smelt was sex and all she felt was the hands of other women against her skin. Some days they pleased her, others she pleased them. Each day prepared her for Ser Jaime Lannister's return, no matter how distant it may be.
Jules learned all she could from Ros with the limitations set by Lannister. She could make any woman weak with the flick of her tongue and all she could do was hope that taking a cock down her throat would be just as easy - but she had her doubts.
Sprawled over the comfort of her bed - one that she had come to share with Ros, Cleo, and the other whore's alike - she had her legs bend and splayed out for herself. Dress drew up to the peak of her hips, to bare her core, she angled a mirror and peered down below. Just this morning she had a thick mound of blonde hair curling over her skin and around her folds, but now she was bare. With a steady hand and a sharp blade, it was gone. Jules could hardly remember a time before it was there, and now it was near fascinating. Did men really prefer it this way? She asked herself as a curious finger dipped below to run over the smooth skin that now paved the way to her core.
Tossing her dress down with a huff of frustration, Jules returned the hand-held mirror to the top of her vanity and settled herself down on her stool. Her hips rolled as her core settled on the stool's edge, the pressure begging to please her. Groaning, the blonde stilled herself. She needed a distraction. Slowly, she fixed her hair, though she was sure it was to be ruined in a fit of lust. She slipped her hands in the front of her gown, cupping each breast so that her cleavage appeared as if it were about to break free of its bounds. Baelish feared that Jaime's impulsive decision to claim the whore as his own would be temporary and he made it clear with her control of her. He guided her on the path to perfection with Ros coaching and grooming. They were not going to let the opportunity slip through their fingertips.
The sunset over the Red Keep and darkness consumed the lands. Women and children retired to their beds, but their men were set free to play. Some drank until they could swallow no more, while Jaime stripped off his white cape for something a little more discrete. He walked through the streets like a shadow, keeping his head down as he turned every corner. Even as the knight entered the brothel, he didn't look up from the ground until Baelish had finished escorting him to the private room.
Jaime stood in the doorway a moment, watching as the young woman went about readying herself for him. Her hair was up in familiar twists, ones that mirrored that of a lady or queen. In his gut, his stomach twisted in disgust. Yes, the girl was fair and carried the same beautiful golden mane of a Lannister, but the girl was not his sister, nor did he want her to be. Heavy steps alerted the whore to his presence, her body jolting with shock. "Ser Jaime!" She gasped out, her body leaning back into her vanity.
"Sit still!" he ordered, his voice as firm as his hand as he reached for her tangled strands. Thick fingers tugged and untwisted the braids that left her hair in knotted crown until it was an untamed mess of curls framing her face. "Don't ever let them put your hair like that again," he forced out from behind the firm line that was his lips. "You're the reason I'm here not-" he cut himself off, his eyes dropping down to the ground. Not her.
Rough hands callused by battle gripped at the young whore's shoulders, spinning her on her stool to face him. "You," be breathed out, his fingers wrapping around her jaw, "you are not some King's Landing whore. You're Casterly Rock. Mine."
Bright eyes danced over his features as they gazed upon her. Jules didn't know where to look. She was almost fearful to meet his eyes, instead, she let her vision dance over the angles of his jawline and the slight purse of his lips. While they wavered between a frown and a smile, they were invited to her. She wanted to press her own to his, but would he find that too intimate? Jaime hadn't kissed her last time, had he even wanted to?
Her stomach fluttered with butterflies as she waited for him to make a move, but it didn't come. Jaime had just remained crouch down in front of her as if he were waiting too. Swallowing hard, Jules reached a hand out to the Kingslayer's chest, pushing him back off his feet to take a seat on the floor. She climbed up off the stool, and onto his lap. Ros had been teaching her to take control, and she would maintain it until he took it from her.
Hands gripped up the hem of her dress, tugging it up high enough to give him a peek of what was beneath. Settling down, her hips rolled over the thin fabric that divided her core from his girth that would soon fill her. Bright eyes sought out his gaze now, her glossed over hues searching his features for any sign of pleasure as her bare mound grazed over the growing girth in his trousers. A quiet sigh left the whore's lips, the friction bringing her own pleasure.
Jaime could feel her eager dampness bleeding through his clothes, his member growing hard for her. A calloused hand raised pushing golden curls from her freckled features. At the corner of his lips, she felt a smile falter as his eyes flickered curiously over her features. The knight hadn't caught a good look at her delicate features before, he had been quick to act superficially before. Taking her promptly from behind with nothing more than a quick glance of what she had to offer, but now he was really seeing her. His thumb reached out from his palm, running over full lips as his mind raised. Dare he kiss her? Her hot breath washed over his touch, his thoughts far too captivated to notice the whore's hands slowly freeing him from his constraints.
Jaime near hissed at the feeling of cold air against his throbbing cock, but he was quickly warmed by the touch of a gentle hand. His breath hitch was lean fingers curled with a silken palm to glide along his manhood. His lips parted, but no words escaped as he intended. What did he call her? The air was silent around them, and Jaime felt his heart begin to race. She was watching him, waiting for what he was to say. The kingslayer could see the worry in her eyes, the fear that she was not pleasing him evident as tears threatened to build at the corners.
Around his cock, her hold loosened, discouraged. She would have to try something else, but as she released his second hand came up to take a firm hold of her jaw before drawing her into him. Their lips met in a firm line at first, the knight unsure who the whore would react. He knew well that when men came for the services of a whore, they acted selfishly and neglected the simple arousal that came with a kiss. Jaime waited to be pushed back, but it didn't come. Instead, he felt her lips move against his, the full lower lobe parting for him. The whore wanted this too.
Jaime let his hands leave her face, the fear of having her pull away gone now. Instead, his hands traveled down the expanse of her back, holding her firm to him before dipping down to the hem of her dress. Fingers toyed at the edges, drawing them upwards, was what he saw a mere illusion? His touch sought out supple thighs, traveling upwards to her needy heat. There, where he expected to find a mound of thick curls he sounds smooth skin. The kingslayer let out a moan of approval against her swelling lips, his teeth nipping at her lower lobe. There was something about a clean shave that set fire to his loins. Jamie wanted to feel her wetness around his cock more than ever now, as he could feel her arousal with his seeking fingers.
Julianna whimpered against his lips as his fingers sought out her lower founds. Ros had been right, he did seem to like it. Her lips drew back from his for a moment, her hands leaving the comfortable position they had found on his chest to pull up her skirt for him to take in the sight his fingers were enjoying. She had a birthmark along her groin, her skin freckled there too. This put a smile on the knight's face. Jules lowered her lips to his ear, slowly grazing upon it as she spoke, "It's all yours, Sir."
This put a smile on his face, his hands leaving the folds of her need to grasp at the thick flesh of her ass. Jaime held her firmly, hoisting her up with him as he stood. Carefully, he placed her down on the bed and when she moved to get on her hands and knees for him he guided her onto her back. He wanted to see her face this time.
Her hands gripped at the sheets, her hips rising to meet Jaime's firm pressure. She wanted all of him. "Eager girl," he whispered to her as his arm came to prop himself over her. "You want me inside you?" this earned a rapid nod and fueled Jaime's ego. "The other girls here, they can't please you as I can. You will know no other man-" his cock pressed into her, her tight walls stretching out to accommodate his size. A groan of pleasure left his whore, Jaime slowly pumping in and out of her now. She could feel him hitting that spot. Did he know what he was doing to her?
Soon, he was taking her to her limit. His pace quickened, long golden locks hung into his face, sticking to the sweat drench skin of his forehead and cheeks. Beneath him he was watching the whore's mouth gape open with pleasure, her moans loud for the rest of the brothel to hear. He thrust into her until he unleashed his Lannister seed deep into her eager womb.
Breathless, the whore remained sprawled along the length of the mattress in a mess of Lannister seed and her own cum. Bright eyes looked up at him, her lips curling into a smile. Had he enjoyed that as much as she had?
Jaime wiped his hand off on the mattress before he pushed his hair out of his face. He had heard Tyrion brag about making women reach this point, but Jaime had been convinced it was makebelieve. He had never made Cersei reach such levels, and now he would be off to Riverrun in hopes of retrieving his brother from the hand of the Starks. His head hung low as he stepped back from the bed, his fingers fumbling with his trousers.
"You didn't like it?" Jules spoke up after a moment of recovery, rising up onto her elbows to get a good look at him. His head shook, confusing her further. "Something the matter?"
"I ride from Riverrun at dawn," he broke to her, "there is no telling when I will return. A war is brewing whore-"
She winced at the word leaving his lips, her thick lashed meeting in the firm closure of her eyes. Jules felt the bed shift beside her, the kingslayer's touch quickly coming to her shoulders. "What's your name, girl?" he asked slowly, earning a peek from behind the shadows of her eyelids.
"Julianna," she whispered out to him, her eyes meeting his as his face came close to her own.
A hand raised up, pushing fallen curls away from the young woman's features. "A war is coming," he reiterated, "Julianna," he watched as a small smile crept onto her freckled features, "and I must go, fight for my family. Will you wait for me?"
It was going to take one hell of a bargain to keep Littlefinger from exploiting the whore for her talents in his potentially lengthy absence, but Jaime was prepared to do whatever it took to assure she would be ready for him upon his return to Kingslanding if she was willing to wait for him. His eyes bore into hers, only to flutter shut at the gentle caress of her hand against his cheek. "I'm yours."
