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To Look On Tempests: Or, How To Find Yourself Without GPS

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She sank back against the bed,” Jaime read aloud, his voice warm and flexible. “Lord Hornington knelt between her legs –” He paused. “I’m definitely stealing that,” he said in his normal voice. “From now on, my dick may only be referred to as Lord Hornington.”

 Brienne giggled. “Jaime.”

His voice slid down to a lower register. “Lord Hornington is eager for you, Lady Brienne.” He turned the page. “And apparently very eager for the princess he’s kidnapped as well. She trembled as his tongue traced up her thigh, or so we’re told. As his hot breath brushed across her wet –” He stopped. “Brienne, I’m sorry, but I can’t take the word quim seriously in anything written in the last five centuries.”

She raised herself on her elbows and glared at him. “It’s supposed to be authentic!”  

Jaime grinned at her, looking entirely unrepentant. “If it was authentic she’d call it her cunt, like women of the time did without embarrassment. So, Lord Hornington’s hot breath is brushing over Princess Peasecod’s wet cunt …” He chuckled. “I can see why you like this one.”

“She really loves him,” Brienne said. “It’s just that their society keeps them apart.”

“Well, she is definitely really hot for him, at the very least.” Jaime flipped through the book. “The six-page masturbation montage was a solid clue. And she gets to enjoy him going down on her for … what, twelve pages? That’s commitment on Lord Hornington’s part.”

Brienne sighed. “I know it’s not realistic. Guys don’t really like to –”

“It’s not realistic because the previous twelve pages featured them sailing from Dragonstone to Skagos,” Jaime said. “I don’t care how ardent a lover a man is, he’s going to need a bathroom break at some point during three weeks of eating his lady out.”  

She snorted. “I wouldn’t have given you the book if I’d know you only planned to ruin it.”

“If you wanted,” Jaime said, his voice low and dangerous, “I would happily spend three weeks with my face between your legs. But –” He smiled. “I would require regular meals and breaks so I could be at my absolute best as I made you moan and scream and beg for more.”

Heat flashed through her at the mental image of Jaime’s blond head between her thighs, his curly hair rough beneath her fingers, his tongue – “Don’t joke.”

“Not joking,” he said. “Would you like that, Lady Brienne?”

Yes. No. She shivered. “I don’t know. I told you, I haven’t ever been with anyone, except Hyle.” Brienne bit her lip. “And you haven’t even kissed me yet.”

“And would you like that?” Jaime asked softly. Brienne nodded, and he smiled. “Then you should come over here and give me the chance.”

“Or you could come here,” Brienne pointed out.

Jaime shook his head, still smiling. “Not this time, not the first time. Show me you’re not just being kind to the crippled war-vet. Show me you mean yes and not just not no.”

She hesitated. “Jaime … I’m –”

His smile dimmed, turned sharp. “So you are being kind,” he drawled.

“Scared!” Brienne snapped at him. “I’m scared, okay!”

Jaime raised his eyebrows. “Of me?”

“Of this being a joke to you.” Her eyes burned and she blinked hard. “I mean, I know it isn’t. I do know.”

“Brienne.” Jaime held out his hand to her. “Then just come here and don’t kiss me. Come here and keep me warm a while.”

“Oh, the fire –” It had been over an hour since she’d stoked it. “Jaime, I’m so sorry.” She scrambled across the couch with the blanket he’d spread over her. “I didn’t realise you were cold, you should have said something.” She settled close to him, drawing the blanket over them both.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms her. “I wasn’t cold. I just wanted a cuddle.”

Brienne drew back a little. “Tricking me isn’t going to help me believe you.”

Jaime let her go. “It wasn’t a trick. It was a figure of fucking speech.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so bad at all this –”

“Come back here,” Jaime said. Brienne took a deep breath and lowered herself to lean against his chest, as lightly as she could. “That’s better.” His arms closed around her again. “That okay?”

His arms were warm and strong and firm around her, and Brienne nodded. “S’nice.”

Jaime rubbed her back. “You feel kind of tense.”

“I don’t want to squash you,” Brienne explained.

“I know you could probably hoist me above your head if you wanted to,” Jaime said, laughter in his voice. “But back when I had two hands, I could definitely have benched you. So I think I can withstand you leaning on me.”

Gingerly, she settled against him more firmly. “Is that okay?”

“Very much okay,” Jaime assured her. “Lord Hornington also approves.”

It took her a moment to catch his meaning, and then she felt her cheeks flame. “Jaime!”

He laughed. “Come closer and you’ll be able to tell that Lord Hornington is definitely saluting you.” He moved his hand from her back and touched her cheek. “Such blushes, Lady Brienne. As befits a highborn maiden.” He traced her cheekbone with one finger. “But a highborn maiden doesn’t need to fear the vagabond soldier who only wants to worship her.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “To give her all the pleasure and the happiness she deserves.”

Warmth swept over her, pooling in her belly. She shifted restlessly. “Jaime.”

His lips touched her ear. “When all he wants is to feel her hands on him. When he’d give a year of his life to make her cry out in ecstasy.”

“Don’t be silly.” The words came out as a moan, not the stern rebuke she’d intended.

“I’m entirely in earnest.” His fingers ran back and forth across her cheekbone and then trailed down to her mouth. “Kiss me and find out.” He stroked her lips, his fingertips warm and soft. “Kiss me, Lady Brienne. Please.”

She took her courage in both hands and turned her face to his. There was nothing in his expression but need and tenderness, and so she leaned closer to him and brushed his lips with hers.

He sighed. “Nice. Do it again.”  She did it again and he moaned softly, fingers tangling in her hair. His mouth opened against hers as he arched up against her.  “Again.”

His lips were gentle against hers and he wasn’t trying to invade her mouth the way Hyle had. She kissed him again, daring to taste the inside of his lips this time. “Is this okay?” she whispered.

“Very okay,” he said huskily. “Would it be okay for me to kiss you back?” When she nodded, he drew her more firmly against him. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her lower lip, each warm touch sending sparks through her. He traced his fingers gently through her hair and ran his lips along her jaw. “How’s that? Still okay?”

“Mmhmm.” Jaime reached her ear and sucked gently on her earlobe and it was like there was a string directly connecting it to her clit, drawing up inside her and sending a wave of heat scorching through her and it felt so very, very good that all Brienne wanted in the world was for him to keep going. He scraped her ear with his teeth and then soothed the place with his tongue, drawing an embarrassingly loud moan from her.

Jaime chuckled. “I take it that’s okay,” he murmured, and then his mouth was against hers again, more demanding now, his hand firm in her hair, holding her still so he could kiss and kiss and kiss her, his tongue asking access to her mouth and when she sighed and parted her lips for him he was gentle and insistent and she felt every flick of his tongue against hers between her legs and nothing existed but Jaime and how wonderful he was making her feel. She moaned into his mouth, grinding against him, his erection hot and firm against her and it all felt too good for her to be self-conscious and Jaime was panting against her lips and murmuring perfect, perfect, because he wanted her, he wanted her –

“I want to touch you,” Jaime gasped. “Can I touch you?”

His fingers were running through her hair and stroking her neck, his right arm was hard around her waist. “You are touching me,” Brienne panted against his lips.

He gave a breathless chuckle. “A little more intimately.” He ran his hand down her back, over her backside and to her thigh. “I want to stroke Princess Peasecod until both she and Lady Brienne are very, very happy.”

He surprised a bubble of mirth from her. “Jaime! I don’t call – ”

“Lord Hornington wants Princess Peasecod to be happy.” He arched his back, thrusting up against her. “You don’t want to disappoint Lord Hornington, do you?”

“No,” Brienne moaned. “Oh, Jaime, Jaime –” He slid his fingers up her thigh and between her legs. Even through her pants his touch was scorching and when she caught her breath he kept his fingers right there, right there, right there – “Like that, like that, please like that – ” Everything was warm and good and wonderful and she was tingling all over and she was close and close and closer –

“Like that,” Jaime said, and the fizzing along her nerves reached breaking point and she was soaring into waves and waves of bliss, sobbing her pleasure against his mouth as he stroked her and kissed her until one final cataclysmic release left her slumped limp against him.

He wrapped his right arm around her waist and drew the blanket up over them again. “How’s Princess Peasecod?”

“Wonderful,” Brienne murmured. She collected herself enough to raise her head from his shoulder. “But what about Lord Hornington?”

“Oh, he’s very satisfied,” Jaime said with a chuckle. “And in related news, I hope you have more spare clothes.”