Jaime suddenly found himself slammed into the hard stone wall, remaining hand pinned above his head and Brienne's hand wrapped around his throat.
"Whatever game you are playing, Kingslayer, it ends now." She hissed, pressing against him with the full weight of her considerable bulk.
Jaime stared up at those remarkable eyes, a little lightheaded from the restriction of air to his lungs. He knew the sensible thing would be to nod penitently and let her storm off. Jaime had never been known as a particularly sensible man, though.
"What game?" He managed to squeak, the intended arrogance of tone utterly obliterated by lack of airflow.
"You know perfectly well." Brienne insisted, face flushed, "The way you keep... I... What in the Seven do you hope to gain from it!"
Her grip loosened, wrist pressing against his chest instead of gripping his neck so tightly. He was painfully aware of the way they were pressed together, and somewhat shamed by how little he wanted to be let go.
“You know, if you wanted to ravish me, the middle of the corridor is maybe not the best place.” He smirked, the levity a mask to hide how much he wanted just that. His mind wouldn’t stop thinking about how sublime it would be for Brienne to lay claim to him, to reveal a hunger that matched him own. He knew she never would, Brienne didn’t have screwed up ideas about the relationship between violence and sex like Jaime did. Gods he wished she did though.
“I told you to stop playing games.” Brienne growled, redoubling the force she was holding him against the wall with.
"I'm not playing any games, milady." He insisted, knowing how much being referred to in that way would infuriate her and cause her to press harder.
"What else do you call this mockery, this pretense that you are, that you would... I know what it is like to have someone pretend to court me only to laugh..."
The stubborn wench really didn't get it, did she? Maybe it was the oxygen deprivation, but Jaime found himself laughing uncontrollably, hysterics setting in. He regretted it immediately as he watched the expression in her face go from rage to devastation. She thought he was laughing at her. Brienne's shoulders slumped and she released him and turned to walk away.
"Wait!" he called out, "Brienne... I..." She ignored him, even as he reached out clumsily towards her.
This time it was his turn to surprise her, the advantage of surprise allowing him to use his own body to press her against the wall this time, hand awkwardly reaching for the back of her neck to pull her face down to meet his.
"Does this feel like mockery?" He breathed, punctuating his words with hungry kisses, "Does it seem like I am playing a game?" He added, deliberately thrusting his hips against hers, so that his arousal was unmistakable.
Brienne turned white, shock on her face, and for a moment Jaime thought she was going to slam him back against the wall again, or strike him. Jaime knew that she was perfectly capable of defending herself against unwanted advances and there was nothing gallant about what he’d just done. Then such to his surprised, he felt her body melt against his, hardened muscle giving way, and she looked at him with a kind of hope which sort of broke his heart.
How could he not have realized how things might seem to her? He knew the ways other men had tormented her in the past; hell, the way he had tormented her in the past.
“Jaime?” She asked, still a little incredulous.
He responded with deeper kisses, feeling her relax into them, lips parting, heart beating fast against him.
“I love you, Brienne. I admire you. I desire you.” He whispered against her ear, putting particular emphasis on the second to last word of his declaration.
The next thing he knew, Jaime’s back was once again against the wall, but this time Brienne’s fingers were in his hair and he mouth was devouring his. He let out a low moan, hips arching up against hers, daring to think about all the ways he wanted to touch her and be touched, damning his impatience and the impropriety of this setting.
Similar thoughts seemed to have occurred to Brienne, who broke their embrace, face turning bright red.
“I should not… It was very improper. Please don’t think…” She stammered.
“I may have shit for honor.” He told her, raising her hand to his lips in a symbol of chivalry, “But I know that you do not.”
Where were they going to find a septon at this time of night?