Tormund slowly opens his eyes and wakes up to the pleasant feeling of Brienne's warm chest flush against his back, her sword calloused hand on his chest and her lips peppering kisses on his shoulder. She is the first to wake up, and they always do in this same position, which is different from the one they fell asleep in the previous night, him holding her from behind.
Sometimes he turns around in the bed, takes his time caressing and admiring her gorgeous sleepy face and presses his mouth to hers in a dreamingly slow kiss until they both are forced to pull apart to catch their breath.
At others, their making out turns into something more: he gets on top of her and covers her long, soft body with open mouthed kisses and nips until he reaches her sweet cunt and feasts on what he likes to call his first breakfast, revelling in the feeling of her fingers running through his red hair as her moans and gasps fill the room.
And at other times, like this morning, Tormund, humming in delight, grabs Brienne's hand and kisses her palm before he captures her mouth with his. Without breaking the kiss, she pushes him on his back and straddles him, and when she pulls away, she gives him a lustful look, which makes him shiver. She places her hands on his chest and begins rubbing her wetness against his hard cock for what seems to be an eternity, while his hands squeeze her buttocks, then travel up her sides until they reach her perfect breasts and gently massage them. Then finally, finally, does she lift her hips up and slide down his length, and he cannot help but thrust up to against her, erupting twin groans from the both of them.
Ah, there is no place he would rather be than inside this glorious woman, Tormund thinks as Brienne rides him, leisurely at first, then gradually speeding her movements up. He is so lucky to have taken her for his own, and before anyone else could. She is simply perfect for him, like sheath and sword, like lock and key, and now that he has her, there is no letting her go.
One of his hands leaves her hip to gently stroke her clit, his thrusts still meeting hers, and she leans forward, her forehead touching his. It does not take very long for her to reach her peak, moaning his name and, after a few more strokes, he comes too, filling her with his seed. Utterly spent, she leaves him and lays on top of him, and the two of them spend blissful moments catching their breath, her ear right over his heart, his hands running over her back, until she raises her head to kiss him.
Either way, they smile at each other, say good morning and reluctantly get out of bed to wash themselves, get dressed and leave her chambers to have some breakfast.
Tormund knows not how much longer they have until the Long Night comes upon them, nor whether he will survive - he is sure Brienne will. Still, he silently prays the gods they both will be together for as long as they can, for they were made for each other, and his life would be a waste without her by his side.