Brienne stood at her post, gazing out at the austere landscape, grey in the night. She took a number of deep breaths, trying to remove the taste of Tormund's beard from her mouth. My first kiss, she thought bleakly. It all felt like some sick joke Jaime and Tormund had conjured up to taunt her, reminiscent of her adolescence.
Kisses weren't important, though, not when the end was near and death marched upon the country. But the soft woman's heart hidden deep within her whispered that maybe it did matter to her, and now her first kiss had been stolen.
Tormund had pushed his lips onto hers, hot and wet, and Brienne had kneed him in the crotch before Jaime had time to see that the Wildling was doubled over in pain. Time and time again, Brienne had refused Tormund's advances, yet he did that anyway. It sickened her. She did not believe Tormund would ever try to rape her, no; but his kiss had been enough for Brienne to know he did not respect her decisions or her autonomy. She would hit him harder than Jaime had if he ever tried to touch her again in such a way. Or worse.
Jaime's anger had been terrifying, something she would only have recognised seeing in him before he was mutilated, when he had been ruthless and virile enough to threaten to kill everyone they came across, including herself. The way he had held Tormund over the edge of the parapet… it was merciless. He is still a lion, she thought, through and through. But she was disgusted by the pair of them, picking fights like youths.
I care about you, she remembered Jaime saying, but Brienne did not appreciate violence for her sake, unless it was single combat- a fight due to what had befallen her was beyond her control, and she didn't want to see them hurt. She had, however, recalled a certain daydream she had imagined when she was younger… Renly, pummelling all the men who had wronged her in that wager, and taking her into his arms, as his woman.
But that was a child's fancy.
She knew Jaime was supposed to be guarding their post with her, but he hadn't returned from where she had left the men yet. Not that she cared.
The ice was in her eyes and nose and ears and she went to pull her fur around her tighter, when she heard footsteps crunching the ice underfoot. She knew his footsteps and weight better than her own. "He shouldn't have done that," he said from behind her. She felt her hands begin to shake with nerves- she didn't want to see him after that, but some part of her wanted nothing else.
Brienne stared straight ahead over the sparse north. She said nothing. No, he shouldn't have, she thought, but he did, and I dealt with it. "Are you both done behaving like idiots?"
Jaime arrived at her side, looking out over their post as well. "I am. Don't know about Tormund, though." He sighed. "You're right, Brienne, I was an idiot. I am truly sorry. I'm the stupidest Lannister, it's true. And to be fair, I have always behaved too rashly when it comes to you," he said. "But he needs to learn boundaries. He could've torn your wound or worse. Are you honestly saying you were alright with him kissing you without anything to suggest you desired it? I was trying to protect you!"
"If you hadn't attacked him without witnessing what was happening first, I stopped him before you intervened." Brienne's stomach fluttered. Why can't you be to the point for once? She thought, why must you speak so cryptically? She clenched her jaw. Say what you mean! She wanted to scream at him. "I've told you before, I don't need your protection. I'm not your sister, Jaime!" The words tumbled out before she realised what she had said. Jaime's head jerked as if he had been slapped, and Brienne regretted it immediately. "… that was… not worthy of me, ser. Forgive me." She had wanted to gain some sort of reaction from him, some reason why he was acting so bizarrely.
Jaime shook his head. "No, no, it's… it's alright, Brienne. You're right, you're not Cersei." He looked at her, his green eyes sad, but it might've just been the golden hair blowing into his eyes. "You're as… far from her as anyone I've ever met. Honourable, loyal. Kind. You're a true… friend."
A true friend. For some stupid reason, those words hurt more than anything. And if he loved Cersei, and if she was not a bit like Cersei, then… well. Brienne looked at her hands. She turned to him, looking him straight in the eye. Her took a step backwards, maintaining eye contact.
She looked him up and down once, his face cast with shadows, and dared to ask him what she had been wondering since that night of the godforsaken feast. "If I'm the only friend in this world worth fighting dead men for," she started steadily, "why do you fight a living man, for my sake, when it matters the least?"
She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and blood rushed to her face. Jaime's mouth opened momentarily, then shut again, and Brienne wondered fleetingly if Jaime's beard was as scratchy and coarse as Tormund's has been. The wind blew loudly, and whipped their faces through the scant protection of the walls and covering.
"It doesn't matter the least," Jaime said after a beat. "It matters most, now of all times!" his voice rose. Jaime's eyes were wet from the wind, his chest puffed with anger and confusion. Brienne swallowed, her mouth dry. Say what you mean, her eyes begged him.
"Forgive me, am I interrupting?"
Brienne turned and Davos Seaworth stood across from them. "Not at all, ser Davos," she said, not looking at Jaime. But those words, it matters most, rung loud in her ears.
"Jon sent me to tell you he will take your post momentarily, and to retire to your chambers for the time being," Davos said, his eyes flicking between the pair. "There aren't any problems here, are there?" he asked, his kind expression hardening. Even now, Davos Seaworth could not come to trust her- while she had no quarrel with the man, he had been loyal to Stannis, and she could not accept that either. There would always be tension.
Jaime gave a tight smile. "None, ser. Just a debate to keep our blood flowing." Brienne recalled their first encounter with the Bloody Mummers, and Jaime saying they were married. How she had hated him then.
Davos nodded slowly. "Good to hear. I'll take it from here, Jon and Beric will be up soon…"
Brienne fled before he could finish speaking, and Jaime followed suit.
"Brienne, please, wait."
Brienne descended to her chosen chambers and cursed as her wound lost its relief from the freezing night air, the sting causing her eyes to water. She had avoided looking at herself, too frightened of what she might see, no doubt uglier than she had been already. She had left as quickly as possible after Davos told them to take their leave, a flurry of furs and Oathkeeper.
She reached the chamber door and sighed when she heard Jaime step down the last stair behind her. "I'm sorry. A thousand times over, I am sorry."
Brienne's jaw tightened. "You are not the one who needs to be sorry," she said, fiddling with the heavy latch, her numb fingers struggling to find purchase. When it finally clicked open, she entered; Jaime hovered in the doorway. "Tormund shouldn't have done that, and I am reviled that he thought he had any right to do so, be it a Wildling custom or not."
"No?" he asked quizzically, "then why are you upset with me? Why is the entire world always angry at me?" He closed the heavy door as loudly as he could, punctuating his question.
Angry? She was always told by her septa that she always seemed cross, even when she was crying. "I'm not," Brienne stated, stumped. "I am just… frustrated. I'm confused at everything you say. You are so… difficult, ser!"
Jaime scoffed, but didn't deny it. Brienne felt her wound sear with pain and winced, and Jaime's incredulous expression changed immediately to concern. "Does it need redressing? It's covered in ice."
Brienne turned, embarrassed that she had drawn attention to the hideous gash. She raised her hand to cover it. "No, it's alright." Jaime took a couple of tentative steps through the door, and Brienne breathed in quickly at the sight of him- his golden-grey hair in his eyes, his sharp face.
"You don't need to hide it, Brienne," he said, and hesitated.
"What is it?" Brienne frowned.
"Did he… did he handle you gently?" Jaime asked, and Brienne looked at him, taken aback. He continued, "I only ask because before the battle, I saw him come from your tent and I was worried he'd…" he lifted his golden hand in thought, "… you'd…"
What? Brienne thought. She felt herself grow flustered. "No! No," she stammered, her tongue heavy. Jaime nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor of the chamber. It was almost completely dark, save for the torch on the wall. Brienne took a deep breath. "What do you think I am, ser?"
"I didn't mean…"
"Why does it matter how he handled me? What do you mean by what you said on watch, it matters most, now of all times?" Brienne mustered up all her courage. She realised she was trembling, and tears were welling in her eyes, mortifying her.
Jaime swallowed audibly. "Because it does," he said, and his voice sounded so strange. "Matter now, I mean. Because we could die. Any day, we could die."
A lump rose in Brienne's throat. Don't say these things again, she pleaded with her eyes. Jaime's own green eyes were wide and conveyed an indiscernible emotion. She felt a hot tear run down her cheek, betraying her. "You make no sense!"
"Seven fucking hells," Jaime ran his hand over his hair, and Brienne realised he was shaking. He looked at her, his face pained. "It matters because I… I thought I could, but I can't. I can't handle seeing Tormund touch you gently, or speak soft words to you. Gods be damned, I don't think I could handle seeing any other man do such things to you! Anyone else, for that matter!" his voice rose, his words so fast and strung together Brienne hardly understood him. Her stomach dropped, and she felt her throat close over when she comprehended what he'd said.
His last words came out in a tone of realisation, as if he had only just deciphered a mental riddle. The words hung between them, echoing slightly in the large chamber, and Jaime's eyes were wide with fear at what he'd just revealed. He seemed as surprised as Brienne was, and closed his mouth.
Jaime, the Kingslayer, the man who jumped into bear pits, who had been knighted as Kingsguard at fifteen, looked truly afraid as he stepped towards her. He was closer than he had ever been to her before, his flawless Lannister features so close to her, snow melting in his hair. Brienne had no idea what to do- she was immobile. Brienne's breath hitched as stared up at her, and he concentrated so hard on her face that she felt self-conscious again.
He broke the silence. "I am a bloody fool," he said, the space between them minute. "We are both bloody fools. We have been fools for years and never realised." His voice shook, and she could tell he was as terrified as she was. Sweat beaded on her temples. "I know you deserve better," he breathed, his voice a deep purr, and Brienne wanted to weep at hearing those words. "This is not friendship, is it?" He toyed with his golden hand. "I am not a good man. You deserve an honest, kind, loyal man who matches yourself, not a Kingslayer, oathbreaker. Man without honour, who sired bastards born of incest, who has done more bad deeds than years we've lived," he said, his breath warm on her cheek. She remained still, her mouth falling open. "But I need you to know. Brienne… gods, I just needed to tell you."
Brienne opened her mouth to speak. "I…" but her words died on her lips as he leant slightly upwards and pressed his lips against her unharmed cheek, as soft as a breeze on her skin. Brienne froze, but almost immediately felt a rush of warmth in the pit of her stomach. A harsh breath escaped her as he pulled away from her cheek, his eyes searching hers. He reached up with his hand and rested it beneath her jaw. He smoothed his palm over the skin, warming her, igniting her profoundly.
"Don't," said Brienne, her voice cracking. "Please don't." This is not happening, she thought. She lifted her huge, overly-masculine hand to cover his hand that rested on her cheek, and she didn't realise that she was crying silently, tears streaming in rivulets down her cheeks. I will wake up soon, she thought, and this will be all a dream, a night terror of what I desire. His hand was so real, though. But how could he possibly feel the same way about someone so hideous and manly? She had to admit, the Tormund situation made sense, but she couldn't shake the idea. "Why are you doing this to me?" she asked.
Jaime's forehead creased in anguish. "Because I could lose my chance."
And suddenly his mouth was soft on hers, his beard coarse against the broken skin of her chin, and her stomach did somersaults when she came to understand what was happening. Brienne felt like a stone statue, ungainly, awkward and frozen and as his lips brushed her own; but he kept trying, testing, in a gentle, tentative kiss that let Brienne herself feel as if she were in control. Brienne felt herself unfreeze and relax into the kiss, and she realised she had found it, found everything, found him. His hand made its way into her damp hair and she realised this, this was what she wanted, what some part of her had always wanted. She lifted her hand to rest it on the nape of Jaime's neck, and never wanted to let go. This isn't real, she thought.
It all felt too short when he pulled away, and gods, Brienne could've sworn she'd never seen a man more beautiful, his golden hair dishevelled, his eyes hooded and his lips swollen. Both their faces were as shocked as each other's at what had just happened. His hand was still on her cheek. Then a smile, like a blind septon seeing the stars for the first time, rose on Jaime's face. He his forehead against hers, and Brienne felt her stomach rise into her throat, hover there, and swoop down from its great height.
Cersei Lannister's voice, vindictive and snide, resounded in her mind. But you love him, she had said, and Brienne hadn't even thought about the possibility since that moment. She had loved Renly, hadn't she? She had thought she had. Then came Oathkeeper, and Riverrun, and now…
Now she knew.
Their lips met again, this time with more force- Jaime dug his golden hand into the furs around her shoulders as the kiss deepened into slow, explorative undulations, and Brienne didn't know if what she was doing was right, but she didn't care because Jaime's hand was in her hair and the taste of their tears lingered on their tongues, but still they smiled into one another's lips. Their tender and slow kisses probed and tasted, and Brienne could've died happily right then, until Jaime pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her.
Then something changed. Both their smiles died as they looked at one another.
They crashed into each other, their kisses suddenly an elongated battle- their mouths were their swords as they surrendered to a heated, passionate combat, Jaime's hand twisting into her hair roughly. His green eyes blazed, and they kissed frantically, desperately, all tongues and open mouths and lips as they fought for dominance as they had years ago with their steel blades. She wrapped both arms around him roughly, and his hand was digging into her back, clutching her for dear life; they both breathed ragged breaths, their lips red and chapped but they didn't care, they didn't care. Brienne felt a euphoria she had never felt- it was almost painful, not knowing what could come of this, and tears spilled down her cheeks. They were trying to swallow and envelope as much as they could of one another as they possibly could, tumultuous in their passion.
Jaime pressed Brienne against the wall of the chamber, and his hand (and golden hand) went to her waist, where she had never been touched. As they kissed, Jaime gently nipped Brienne's lower lip, which elicited a small, surprised whimper. They were both breathing as if they'd run ten leagues, but their kiss was too intoxicating, and they needed it so much that they couldn't stop. Jaime ran his tongue along Brienne's lips, and she pulled him closer, yearning for contact. He bent his head and kissed her jawline, sucking and nibbling there, and Brienne moaned as she felt, to her shock, his hardness against her thigh.
"Oh, gods," Jaime breathed, and Brienne felt herself freeze in fear of the unknown- but her body began to move on its own accord, and she pulled her furs off from around her neck and shoulders, fumbling with the nerves. "Brienne, you don't... what are you doing…?" Jaime puffed, his eyes dipping to her surcoat and breeches, now unhidden by furs and robes.
"Making my choice," she managed to gasp back through her fear, and she clutched his back with both hands as she kissed him deeply, bravely.
"Brienne," he groaned between kisses, and she felt heat rise in those secret parts of her she had only explored a dozen times, that part that was so private, so personal that had guarded forever. She had touched it, rarely, when deliriums formed in the dead of night. But he was here, now, and she wanted to hear her name again- she had never dreamt that this could happen, to her, with him. Jaime pulled his own furs off with one fumbling hand, and Brienne unbuttoned his undershirt with trembling hands. "Gods, Brienne," he growled.
The hard, lean lines of his torso were suddenly bare, and Brienne remembered how emaciated he'd been in Harrenhal, how glorious he had been nevertheless. Even then, a part of her had known. Her breath caught in her throat, and her stomach fluttered like she was about to fall from the top of the wall as he unbuttoned her undershirt deftly with his one hand, and slipped it under to caress the soft skin of her ribs, tracing the linen of her smallclothes.
She pushed away that niggling thought that this was a farce as he pulled her lips into his, and suddenly they were moving blindly towards the bed, kissing fervently, surcoats and breeches flying. Before she could comprehend it in the heat of the moment, they were on the bed, and Brienne realised she was shaking. Her wound was sore, but nothing was more terrifying than this for Brienne. She had never thought she would find herself in this position.
"Are you alright?" asked Jaime softly, cupping her face with his hand. "If you've changed your mind… you need to be sure…"
Brienne shook her head, taking a shaky breath. "I'm sure. More than sure. You've seen me before."
She lowered her hands to her smallclothes. Jaime didn't take his eyes from her face, and his gaze was as intense as a lion's. She heard Jaime swallow nervously as Brienne sat up, and with a surge of courage, pulled her linen shift over her head. she didn't take her eyes from his as she disrobed. Jaime drunk her in, and Brienne fought the urge to cover herself. Suddenly, she felt hideous, her muscles too big, her breasts too small, her legs too long. She sat before him, her chest bare, and wondered if this would be when Jaime told her it was a jape. Jaime breathed in, his pupils dilating, and Brienne saw that it wasn't a joke.
"Gods," Jaime inhaled. "You are… glorious." He took her hand, laying it on his chest. "Even at Harrenhal, in the baths… you have no idea how long I've wanted you. Hells, I have no idea how long I've wanted you." He shook his head, his eyes softening. Jaime trembled as he unbuckled his golden hand, and threw it on the ground.
Brienne's heart swelled as she touched him, just over where his heart was, her hand slipping underneath his undershirt. Then, the gravity of what was about to happen hit her. Hit them both. She had been a maid her entire life- it was who she was. She was terrified. But so was he- he had only ever been with one woman in his entire life.
But when she looked at him, her fear became love and her love became want. Jaime's eyes were wide with wonder as he lifted his hand to her face, and Brienne nodded.
They kissed, slowly, surely, and the cold outside was forgotten in the heat of him, his lips against hers. As Brienne lay back, Jaime lay beside her, and she felt that heat pool in her core, in a way she had never felt, as he stroked her hair back from her wound. All concerns of her visage and ugliness melted away like snow.
Jaime took off his undershirt, and the wiry muscle beneath gave Brienne a reaction so unfamiliar but so wonderful that she could not help but reach out and touch him as he lay down beside her.
Jaime hesitated, trying to manoeuvre his stump so that it wasn't in the way. It was clumsy and unseemly, but she didn't care. Jaime clenched his jaw, ashamed, and Brienne sensed his humiliation.
Without thinking, she took his right wrist, and kissed the scar tissue there softly.
When she looked back up to his face, he had tears in his eyes. "Brienne," he whispered her name like a prayer, and leant in to kiss her. Brienne's body twitched as she felt every inch of his body against hers, and felt a jolt of fear and excitement as she again felt his hardness press on her hip. They were both on their sides, neither of them wanting to overpower the other.
"Can I…?" Jaime touched her side, and she swallowed, nodding once. He stroked the soft skin of her side, running his calloused hand down to the curve of her hip leisurely, and Brienne felt a stirring down below, a wetness forming there. "I want you to tell me to stop if you feel unsure," Jaime murmured.
"Thank you, ser," she said without thinking, and Jaime chuckled as Brienne flushed furiously.
"It is my honour, lady Brienne." He said her name as he had in the tent at Riverrun, smiling. His smile faded as his eyes filled with… no, surely not… lust? Brienne couldn't fathom that this beautiful man could feel aroused by her. He rested his hand on her shoulder, held her head up, and began to press gentle kisses on her neck, the friction of his chest rough against her own.
"Oh!" Brienne squeaked, her voice sounding terribly masculine, but she was in such bliss that she didn't even notice. Her eyelids grew heavy with desire and love. Jaime smiled at the sound, continuing down to her collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. "Jaime…" she mumbled.
Brienne lay back slowly, still shaking, but her own lust began to take control. Jaime took her hand. "Tell me to stop if you want me to, remember," Jaime reminded her.
She nodded once. He shuffled down the bed, and Brienne wondered what he was doing.
"What are you…? Ah!" She whimpered in delight as Jaime began to continue the trail of kisses, but this time down her torso, between her breasts and down her stomach. She had no idea it could be like this. Jaime kissed his way back up, but stopped at her breasts, and gentle cupped one with his hand. Brienne's breathing hitched and she watched in awe as he took her hardened nipple in his mouth, rolling it on his tongue.
"Jaime… gods…" she gasped as Jaime's mouth worked hungrily. She thought she knew about fucking- she had definitely not been completely informed by the men of Renly's kingsguard. She buried her hand in his golden hair, her chest heaving.
She looked down at him as he unlatched his mouth, and his eyes were so lustful as he moved down her stomach to her sex. She winced in shame, wanting to hide the thatch of thick hair in between her thighs, but then he kissed the lowest part of her stomach, and Brienne felt her hips buck, unbidden, and felt so ashamed- until Jaime pressed a kiss on the most sensitive part of her inner thigh. Brienne shuddered, then felt herself buck again when she felt the hot, wet pressure of Jaime's mouth on her cunt.
"Gods!" Brienne moaned, her hand twisting in Jaime's hair, holding him there. He smiled up at her, watching her writhe in pleasure. "Please, Jaime…" she whimpered.
"Patience, sweet Brienne," he said, and Brienne's heart soared as she heard those words. She felt the urge to cross her legs, but instead they sprung wide open. Brienne dug her hands into the sheets as Jaime flicked the sensitive nub with his tongue.
"Jaime," she felt like she could weep. Jaime shuffled his way back up to her so that he was aligned with her wholly, face to face, and Brienne could hardly breathe for the sight of him above her. "I had… no idea that is could feel like this," she breathed. Jaime looked at her, then rolled onto his side.
"You're beautiful," he said, and then his entire body ground against hers. Brienne would've been embarrassed had she not been so aroused when she fumbled for Jaime's cock, but she wanted him to feel the way she was feeling. It felt alien to her, a hard mast of flesh, but Jaime gasped in pleasure as she squeezed the tip through his breeches. "Oh, Brienne," he moved against her hand, and she maintained eye contact as she untied his breeches. He shuddered violently as his breeches slid to his knees, and his hardened cock sprung free. Brienne tried not to be afraid of it, but Jaime sensed it. "I will not do anything until you tell me to. You are in control here."
Brienne had fought dead men and had seen shadows with faces. She was a warrior, yet love was the most terrifying idea on her mind.
She could do this. She wanted to do this more than anything she'd ever wanted.
She carefully reached a hand down to caress Jaime's cock gently, up and down as he guided her. Jaime let out a moan of satisfaction, his eyes closing. His head was back and his neck strained. He made slurred, strange sounds, unaware. Brienne was still not quite sure if this was happening, but it was, and when Jaime slid his hand between her legs everything else was forgotten, dead men and oaths and winter and Tormund and Catelyn…
"J… Jaime," she said, "Jaime, I love you."
Jaime stopped, and Brienne's eyes flew open. You fool, she thought, what have you done? "I…" Jaime frowned, and Brienne's heart was on a ledge, threatening to jump. Had she ruined it all? Did he still love Cersei? She scolded herself, coming back to earth.
"Brienne." Jaime took a deep breath, looking down at her. "I… love you, Brienne of Tarth." And he kissed her and Brienne felt those stupid tears well up again, wetting her cheeks and his as well. "I love you," he kissed her again, "I love you."
She let out a gasp of a laugh in relief. "I love y… oh…" she was painfully aware of his hand resting between her legs, and she trembled as he pressed his fingers against her. Brienne was incoherent as he found that sensitive place again, circling it with his thumb slowly, tantalisingly. She pushed his fingers lower down, and he stroked her crease gently, and slowly, so slowly, he pushed two fingers inside her. She made an inhuman gasping noise and lay still, and Jaime slowly spread his fingers inside her, and she mewled in pleasure. "Ah…"
Jaime smirked, and Brienne couldn't move- it felt so bizarre but so incredible. Brienne could feel her muscles around his finger contracting and relaxing as she breathed. "Jaime, oh, that feels…" He pulled his hand away, and she felt mildly disappointed, but then she felt his hardness against her nub and they simultaneously grunted in ecstasy and anticipation. The friction of his touch gave little relief and she squirmed for more. Brienne shook with nerves, but she was so wet and wanted him, all of him. He ground against her again, and Brienne keened long and loud, her body writhing against Jaime's in primal ecstasy. All fear was gone.
His hardened cock slid around her outer lips, playing, teasing. "Fuck, Brienne," he groaned, and suddenly he rolled her onto her side, and he hitched her leg up around his hip, and Brienne gasped at his boldness. Her arousal built as she felt the tip of his cock rest on her outer lips, so hard, and she was all but dripping onto him, a maid for true. How had something so large stayed contained in those breeches? The throbbing ache between her legs was growing unbearable. She squirmed, the sensitive bud quivering with unknown sensations.
"Jaime… I want…" she whispered. Brienne felt her loins tremble, the heat in her core unbearable, and she knew. She nodded, over and over, and when she opened her eyes, Jaime was gazing at her in the same way he had gazed at her so many times before, but now it meant something new. "Yes," she said, as he slowly began to spread her legs, "yes."
His hand moved back the dripping heart of her cunt and it was a sweet hurt she had never felt.
Jaime inhaled, and looked down at his own cock. Brienne was gripping his shoulder tightly, her breathing speeding up. He slowly aligned his cock with Brienne's cunt, and her cupped her face as he pressed his tip against her opening. And suddenly she could see nothing but him and white clouded her vision. She clutched his back with a gasp, her lower belly dancing, her feet twitching uncontrollably.
"This might hurt, my love. I'm going to go slowly." he whispered raggedly into her ear. My love, she thought, her heart full. My love. "But I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't happen."
Brienne braced herself. "I'm ready," she said. She was a knight. And this was the best battle there could ever be.
Her fingers instinctively clenched in his hair as Jaime kissed her softly, then pushed inwards, with a groan of his own, through her damp inner lips; Brienne winced as she felt a slight burning sensation. "Keep… keep going," she said, and Jaime stroked her face. He slid further in, and Brienne felt a sear of pain as his length filled her, before her muscles relaxed, and Jaime cupped her cheek, sliding in inch by inch.
He stayed there for a few moments, letting her adjust to the feeling. She could feel how tight she was, and he paused. "Alright?" he panted, and she nodded, her mouth falling open. Her wetness around him was alive and moving. He took her hand in his, using it to pin her down. Her stomach began whole body revelling in the sensation as he filled her, and the pain disappeared, replaced with a sensation of wholeness and desire.
"Jaime… you.. can move… oh…"
She gasped. She stared at Jaime, who smiled, as he began to move, slowly at first. She could feel nothing but him, full to the brim with his silky smoothness, and a strange pressure was building within her all throughout her body. She could see nothing but Jaime as he slowly thrust in, and out. Brienne's hips were trembling vigorously as Jaime angled them, wrapping her legs around his taut waist.
He began to thrust slightly deeper, still slow, and Brienne raked her hand down his back, searching for purchase. "Please, more," she heard herself say, and she was so happy, so euphoric that she forgot everything in her life up to this moment. They found a rhythm eventually, and Brienne was all but weeping his name as he kissed her over and over as his cock reached the most inner parts of her, and she felt an inferno burn within her wet core.
"Jaime, Jaime, Jaime," she said through ragged gasps and kisses, and Jaime moaned at the sound with no thought to their volume. He thrust into her, the gentleness dissipating as he drew more whimpers from her, and Brienne felt him pulsate inside her and she could've sworn she had never felt so whole, so right in her life. His hand returned to the wet heat where they joined, and her stomach churned with the approach of something... still his fingers moved over that place, drawing it out of her as he simultaneously pumped slowly in and out of her, pleasure coursing through her.
His mouth hovered at her ear. "Brienne…" he panted, and he rubbed his fingers hard over that place, and the pain was forgotten. "I love you, I love you," he gasped, and felt her cunt clench, and she bit her lip to stop herself from screaming as Brienne felt a rush of warmth envelope her sex, flowing outwards from her loins as she wept his name, clawing his back, embracing him as she had never embraced anyone as they rocked against one another, gentleness a dim memory.
Jaime let out a yell moments later, and then the feeling of him inside her left her, and strange white liquid was emerging from him over her stomach, their bliss peaking; Brienne saw white, then his face, and then he was kissing her again, him, and she felt her sex pulse with electric aftershocks as she buried her face into his neck, seeking his warmth and love and comfort.
She had so many things she wanted to tell Jaime, but all Brienne could do was wrap her muscular arms around his chest, and Jaime wrapped her up in his arms at the exact same moment. And for once, finally, she felt safe, a woman for once in the arms of the man she loved, and together they slept, not caring for what tomorrow brought.