THEN:

Cersei reached up and splayed her hands on either side of Jaime's hanging head, framing his face. Her thumb brushed across a rough patch a skin, where an angry red scrape lie, and she pressed into it. His mouth opened in a silent snarl, and he twisted his head to capture her finger in his mouth. He suckled the digit, although his initial instinct was to playfully bite down.

But Cersei didn't do playful.

And he wasn't allowed to mark her.

He lowered his head to her neck instead, his shoulder-length hair brushing her bare clavicles, as he resisted the urge to seize a small chunk of her skin in between his gleaming, white teeth. He wanted to nip at the tantalizing flesh; to mark her, and claim her as his.

He couldn't.

Disgruntled, he simply brushed her damp skin with the tip of his nose. She shifted impatiently underneath him, her neat nails digging into his back, but she offered a smile when his right hand started to travel up her body. It skated across her supple hips, and ghosted up her taut stomach, before landing on one pert breast. With a soft squeeze, and an equally soft grin, he released his hold and continued traveling upwards until his hand reached her exposed throat.

Her green eyes narrowed in distrust, so he hastily pulled his fingers away, and allowed himself to be shoved off to the side. His wet cock bobbed as he used his elbows to settle himself onto his back. He stifled a hiss of pain, as his left shoulder twinged in discomfort. His body hadn't quite been given a moment of respite after the exertion of the previous evening. His muscles ached as a result.

Cersei quickly settled her lithe body over his, reaching down with nimble fingers to grasp his aching cock in a firm grip, and re-inserting it into her dripping cunt. He audibly sighed, and closed his eyes as she began to rock back and forth. She placed her hands against his broad chest, but it wasn't long before he could feel her own long fingers wrapping around his neck.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and stared up at her from underneath long, dusty-gold lashes. He parted his lips, catching his lower one with a canine, but said nothing. He didn't feel any panic; he trusted her implicitly. Even when she began to apply a firm pressure, his Adam's apple bobbing against the palm of her hand, he didn't panic. His face felt tight, as oxygen became less, while hers morphed into the beginning's of a slightly sinister grin.

Still, he trusted her with his life.

They were one. She was his, and he was hers.

"Trust me," she cooed sweetly. "You'll enjoy this."

Jaime could feel his eyes widening as air became scarce, but still the tightening didn't yield. Cersei continued to rock to and fro, controlling the pace as she closed her eyes and sped up her movements. His eyesight wavered as his circulation continued to be cut off; darkness encroaching at the corners of his eyes. Suddenly, finally, she must've found the right angle as she let out a strangled moan. The walls of her cunt fluttered around his cock as she came.

The enveloping darkness erupted in sudden, blinding light as she released her hold from his neck. Dizzied, he let out a low groan as his hips jerked upward of their own volition, and he came deep inside her in an almost overwhelming rush of pleasure. He balled the sheets underneath his sweaty back as he trembled; his hips continued to spasm involuntarily as he rode out the last of his orgasm.

Cersei shifted forward lazily, then lifted herself slowly so he could slide out of her. He grunted lowly at the movement, feeling sensitive, but could offer no other sentiment. She slipped away from the bed, leaving his sweat-slicked skin exposed to the cold air, but returned soon after wrapped in an elegant red robe.

She perched daintily on the edge of the mattress, and after a long moment of near silence, Jaime finally cracked open an eyelid and sought her out. She was staring back at him, head tilted at an angle as she observed his nude form, before she swept her green eyes up to meet his.

"Don't ever do that again."

His throat ached as he visibly swallowed. He could feel the tell-tale prickle of his skin erupting in goose flesh, and chose to believe that the icy cold feeling at the base of his spine had more to do with the blasting AC and not the suddenly dark, glittering stare of his sister.

He gingerly lifted his head to meet her eyes, before he offered a curt nod of his head in silent acquiescence.

"Why can't we get a nice hotel again?" Jaime moaned as he wrapped a coarse beige towel around his waist. He stepped out of the bathroom, steam billowing at his back, as he searched for his travel bag.

"Because we can't be seen," Cersei sighed. It was the same reply she always had, with the ever-present nuance of annoyance lacing her tone. "We've been through this before, brother." She was holding out her right hand, splaying her fingers as she examined her manicured nails.

Jaime unzipped his bag, pulled out a faded maroon polo, and tossed it onto the bed. He risked a glance in her direction. She didn't seemed to be angry anymore. In fact, her lips were now curving up into a sly smile.

Jaime paused. "No one knows us here," he protested. "No one saw us here." He dropped the bag, closed the distance between them in a few strides, and crouched in front of where she had resumed her perched position on the edge of the bed. He hesitantly grabbed her hands in his, holding them in his own, and looked up to meet her eyes. "We can be anyone we want here."

"Brother," Cersei rolled her eyes, but didn't remove her hands from his. "It doesn't matter now anyway."

He stiffened at her response.

"What do you mean?" He tried to school his face into one of disinterest.

"Robert is being transferred to your office."

"He's what?"

He pulled his hands away, but she was quick to snatch them back.

"Don't you see?" Cersei pressed. "That means we can see each other more often."

"It's dangerous enough as it is, Cersei, and you want your husband to move closer?"

"It's too late," Cersei snapped back. "Director Targaryen accepted his request."

Jaime lowered his head, pressing his temple against their clasped hands, before pressing a chaste kiss on her cool skin. He took a deep, steadying breath.

"Then we'll just have to be more careful."

Catelyn Tully moved an errant curl of red away from her forehead, and behind her ear. It wouldn't stay for long, she knew, but at least it would not hinder her view of Aerys' latest pet project: Jaime Lannister.

The relatively new special agent, dressed splendidly in a tailored navy blue suit, was a recent hire from the elite King's Landing Division of the Westeros PD.

Aerys hired him personally, she reminded herself gravely. He's not to be trusted.

She took in the younger man's bruised eyes, and scraped-up face. If anything, the scratches made him look even more ruggedly handsome than he annoyingly already was. There was also an interestingly deep red mark at the base of neck.

Almost like a hand.

"God above," Gendry Seaworth whistled as Jaime prowled into the field office. "How is it that you're back two days from an op, and you still look like absolute shit."

Jaime offered a smug grin. "I think red suits me rather well," he replied with a wave of his hand towards the abrasions adorning his clean-shaven jawline.

It must've hurt to high Heaven to shave around those.

Catelyn, observing from where she stood behind a thick column, took that moment to step forward. She was ready to properly introduce herself to the young cub, but two colossal forms dwarfed her as they approached Lannister first. She resumed her position behind the column and watched.

She could visibly see the tension in his face by the tightening of skin around his cat-like eyes, but he easily schooled his expression into a self-effacing grin, and asked the gentleman how he could help them.

"IAB," one grunted.

The grin disappeared from his face in the blink of an eye.

"The rat squad?" He snarled as he took a deliberate step back in an effort to put distance between them. Anyone seen talking to IAB was usually seen as a pariah. "What the fuck do you want?"

"We need to talk," the other demanded.

"We don't," Jaime ground out from between clenched teeth. His eyes darted around the office, desperately hoping no one was watching this exchange. Thankfully, Gendry instantly made himself scarce once the two insinuated themselves in their office.

Catelyn, though desperate to listen in further, decided she looked suspicious enough on her own. She took her leave quietly, but one last glance at Jaime's face revealed the whites of his eyes.

He's frightened.

She left as the second man stepped closer, grabbed Jaime forcibly by his arm, and said: "We do." She was already gone when he added: "About Aerys. About Wildfire."

"Fuck."

TBC...

Please Review.