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He runs his hand up her back, digging his fingers into her skin. It’s more than a caress, more than possession, it’s belonging and Jamie wishes he could press it into her skin, how much he loves her. He wants her to know how much he adores her, not only in this moment, but especially here, now. Her mouth is open against his. She’s breathing hard as he rubs against her. He’s not inside her, not yet, just rubbing against her most private parts, spreading her wetness along the length of his cock. She mewls as his cock catches on her clit, flicks her tongue out to lick at her dry lips and her tongue catches on his top lip, whetting his desire even more.

He brings his stump around her, the winsome curve of her waist above her shapely hips. Jaime remembers, vividly, the first time he saw her naked in the baths in Harrenhal. He remembers thinking that her body was more feminine than he thought, and now, finally now, he gets to palm the smooth skin of her hip, stroke the skin over her ribs to cup an elegant breast in his hand, roll her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Brienne gasps, her own fingers digging into his shoulders.

She was magnificent when he had her the previous night. She might never have been with a man, but she certainly knew what she wanted from him, and made sure that Jaime delivered. He thinks of how she pulled on his hair as he placed his mouth on her, how she moaned and bit her lip bloody to hold the rest of them to herself, how her hips twitched until she was rubbing her cunt against his face, and the grip on his hair turned painful.

She pulls back now, and Jaime still feels in awe of her. She’s strong and capable, not needing anyone, but she lets him see this part of her. She lets him see her soft smile and big blue eyes, her wide and muscled shoulders and flushed chest wildly dotted with freckles. She lifts herself up and slides him inside of her, deciding what rhythm she wants. She rolls her hips and gazes down at him. Jaime feels inadequate, unworthy of this honourable woman, yet pleased that she chose him, wants him.

She’s still unpractised, stumbling like a foal to find her footing until he presses against her in just the right way and she finds the rhythm she needs to get herself to the peak. Jaime slides his hand up from where it had come to rest on her wide, pale thigh, to her clit, rubbing as he thrusts up into her.

Brienne bares her neck as she gracefully arches her back, grinding her hips into Jaime. She’s not the most attractive woman Jaime has ever seen, but she makes his heart clench, and it isn’t just because of the fact that they’re fucking now. She truly sees him, the man he could be instead of the man he is.

Jaime sits up then, as Brienne leans her hands back to brace herself against the bed. Jaime can see her fingers clenched in the furs beneath them. With his stump wrapped around her waist anew, Jamie rolls them, never once slipping out of her. He enjoys this, the fact that she’s laying biting kisses up his throat and wrapping her long legs around his hips. Jaime feels his orgasm suddenly, having snuck up on him, releasing his spend inside of her. He slides out of her, amid her protests, and places his mouth over her mound, sucking her sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth and two fingers of his left hand inside of her. Jaime feels the moment she nears her release, her clit twitching against his tongue and the sudden rush of wet against his fingers. Brienne mewls against her arm, her moans muffled into her own flesh.

He licks her still a few times, then his fingers as he withdraws them from her. He can taste himself and her, the musky mixture like honey on his tongue. Jaime drops down on the bed next to her, his breath coming as quickly as hers.

“Well, at least we know it wasn’t the wine this time.” She says, puffing between breaths. There’s a flush riding high on her cheeks, down her neck and leaving her chest covered in red blotches.

Jaime huffs a laugh, “No.” They’re both quiet for a moment

“Shall we do it again in the morn?” She asks, still staring at the thick wooden planks above the bed.

“Gods, wench, of course. In the morn, and every day after that, if you’ll have me.”

She turns a brilliant smile on him, and Jaime’s heart leaps.

“I’ll have you again in the morn, and again before we retire. Again and again and again-“ Jaime cuts her off with a kiss, smiling against her lips as she smiles against his.

He might not know what would happen in a few days, he might even die soon, but for now, he has no desire to be anywhere else but in the arms of his Ser Lady.