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A lack of wounds doesn’t guarantee a victory.
And being wounded doesn't mean defeat either.
When Jaime returned to King's Landing, Cersei watched him from afar, folding her arms and hiding her fear. While the maester, worried, rested his hand on his brother's forehead in search of fever warning of infection. The Kingslayer was lying on the bed, stunned.
Jaime, he was full of wounds: but he had won.
He had left the capital days ago, many days ago. Cersei had lost count of all the phases of the moon that painted the sky until Jaime returned. The news were good: the Lannisters had defended the lands adjoining Casterly Rock from the treachery of a handful of vassals. But his twin's looks were not so good.
He hadn't come riding back, on the back of his cloud-white horse. Nor had he sneaked into Cersei's chambers to celebrate the victory. The Queen had seen the golden lion banners on a crimson background waving like snakes with the return of the Lannister army. But she had not seen her brother waving his family's banner. She knew something was wrong. And a few minutes later, the maester knocked on her bedchamber door to inform her of the situation.
Jaime had won, but the battle had almost made him taste defeat. He almost kissed the lips of death. Cersei couldn’t bear to think that her brother's lips might taste any mouth but her own, but death was even worse than mundane infidelity. Many times she had coolly assured Jaime that he wouldn’t live if he was ever unfaithful.
Seeing him badly wounded she thought not of the Golden Lion, but of a helpless cat wounded by the fangs of a direwolf. Cersei didn’t like to see him like this. Jaime was her security, and noticing him so helpless meant that she somehow was too. Her stomach cringed, frightened, at the sight of all the blood on his clothes.
Still with her arms crossed, the Queen watched the maester put a cloth dampened with cold water on her brother's sweat-pearled forehead. Then he stitched up an open wound on his forearm and disinfected several superficial cuts on his legs. Finally, he slit the soiled fabric of his shirt to check that his abdomen and chest were intact, that the skin on his belly hadn’t suffered any damage. But it was not. A deep gash, clotted with dried blood, crossed from his groin to his navel, creating a reddish furrow like a bloody claw. The maester cleaned it and stitched it up.
Everything happened in silence, as Cersei tried to look at the sickly appearance of her twin, who barely moved. He grunted several times at the maester's pricks as he stitched him up, clicking her teeth and clenching her eyelids, but little sound came from his throat.
Where was the Golden Lion of the Lannisters? Where was the knight with hair curling like beaten gold? Where was his Brother? Where was his Lover? That body lying on the bed, stained all over with blood and sweat, was not Jaime.
Cersei and her cowardice left for their quarters. Disconsolate and frightened, she drank an entire flagon of Rejo's wine, gazing out the window at the harbor of King's Landing. The liquid was the color of ripe grapes and descended down her throat as the sun descended in the west, bursting into a thousand shades of orange in the sky to give way to a dark but starlit night. The wine was sweet and strong at the same time, and when there was none of it left, she staggered to her feet a little and walked to Robert Baratheon's chambers.
Her husband was snoring with his mouth ajar against the pillow and leaving a trail of cloudy saliva on the cloth. She gazed at that dreadful man and felt nausea coming from the depths of her stomach. Only her husband could make her vomit exquisite Rejo wine.
“He's back...” Robert muttered, laughing.
“Who?”
“The Kingslayer” He wiped the dried saliva from the corner of his mouth and squinted to focus on Cersei's dark figure in the doorway.
“He's back and half dead. But you'll never warm my bed like he does, no matter how alive you are and no matter how much of a King of Westeros” The emerald-eyed woman thought, walking away.
The walk to Jaime's chambers cleared the alcoholic haze that troubled her mind. As much as it pained her to see Jaime in that state, she had to do it. He had been with her whenever she had needed him. And she was the Lannister Lioness after all. What did blood and wounds mean when they had delivered another victory to her family?
She crept into the room. The maester had left a few lit candles and an oil lamp on the bedside table, along with a pitcher of water and a bucket filled with melting ice. It was cold. Cersei noticed the freezing temperature as she closed the door and looked at Jaime. Her brother dozed with his eyes closed, covered to his waist by several white sheets stained red. The Queen saw the bandage on his arm and the cotton patch that ran from his groin to his navel. His golden curls were dirty and clung to his forehead, wet from the cold water cloth and lacking their golden sheen.
But he was still the most attractive and beautiful man she had ever seen. With his thin, long nose above the lips she had kissed so many times. The thick, curved blond lashes. The line of his jaw sharp as Valyrian steel. Despite the wounds, he looked like a King. Jaime always looked like a King.
Cersei walked gingerly over to him and knelt on the edge of the bed. He was overcome by the smell of sweat, battle, dried blood and the ghost of testosterone released during the fight. She slid his long fingers to touch the cloth, it was dry. She removed it from his forehead carefully.
“Cersei...?" Jaime whispered, without opening his eyes. He knew it was her. He could smell her too.
“Sleep” She replied, dipping the cloth into the ice cube.
Once it was soaked and cold, she placed it back on his forehead. Jaime groaned, complaining about the cold, but he needed it to lower his body temperature.
She tucked a few strands of blond hair behind his ears, behind which there was also dried blood. Surely his hair had been pulled.
“Cersei...” Jaime grabbed her wrist with his huge hands, furrowed by a pair of thick veins. His fingernails were full of dirt and filth that Cersei preferred not to know what they were from. But the feel of his fingertips was still velvety smooth.
“Please go to sleep” She whispered to her brother, with a lump in her throat and grabbing his hand and kissing it softly, barely resting her lips on the bluish veins. “You have to rest, Jaime” As she said that her voice broke.
She squeezed her throat tightly, noticing tears forming in her eyes. But she held them back, she didn't want to cry in front of her brother. She had to be strong, she had to be a Lioness like she had always been. Although with Jaime she could be a frightened kitten, in his arms she could be vulnerable and fragile like a sparrow that had fallen from its nest. But now was not the time. Now it was Jaime who needed her security, and she was going to give him whatever he needed, just as he always gave it to her.
She snuggled up next to him on the bed. Cersei's body was slender in comparison to her brother's, whose body was muscular and lean, broad as a knight. With her hand she stroked his cheek, which burned like the rest of his body. The several-day-old beard was prickly. She slid her fingers down his neck, she could feel his heart beating in the large blood vessel that crossed his brother's neck. His heart pounded anxiously, exhausted from the battle. Cersei laid her head close against Jaime's, brushing her upturned nose against the man's sharp nose. She fell asleep lulled by the warm breath coming from between her brother's lips.
As long as his warm breath was there, he would keep breathing, and she could sleep peacefully. There was no Cersei without Jaime. They didn't exist without each other. And snuggled like two babies in the womb, they managed to rest all night.
*
Cersei tossed and turned between the sheets during the night until her back was turned to Jaime. When she awoke in the morning, as a ray of sunlight slipped through the window and caressed her eyes, she felt Jaime's erection against her ass. Secret and silent. It wasn't very hard, but there it was, as it always was when they got close. It was an almost automatic reaction of their bodies. Inevitable.
The Queen smiled and turned around. Her brother was breathing very relaxed, and although sweat had soaked the pillow during the night, his body temperature had dropped. His flesh no longer gave off the heat of the green flames of the Valyrian fire. The woman touched Jaime's arm, warm and slippery, but closer to a normal temperature.
Happy, Cersei took the cloth from his forehead and dipped it back into the ice bucket. There were hardly any ice blocks left, almost all of them had melted, but the water was ice cold. As she returned the frozen cloth to Jaime's forehead, he jerked awake in annoyance. He half-opened his eyes, and the emerald green of his irises colored the room.
“Put it on” The Queen sentenced, pushing his golden curls away from his face and covering his forehead with the cloth.
Her brother still looked weak, helpless. He was still a puppy who needed to be cared for.
“It is...”
“Cold, I know. But you have to hold on until the maester says”
“I was saying that...”
Jaime tried to formulate a full sentence, but as he moved to sit up, the bandage on his abdomen stretched his skin and he writhed in pain. Cersei didn't know whether from the pulling of the bandage or the wound.
“Don't move. You have to stay still”
Her brother dropped back onto the sheets, and grunted in frustration.
Cersei kissed his forehead, resting her lips on it for a few seconds. The warm touch of the saliva relaxed Jaime. He let his guard down and she took the opportunity to place the cold cloth on him. She kissed his nose and then went to kiss his lips but realized they were dry and chapped. When had he last drank?
“Would you like some water?” The Queen rose from the bed, her scarlet dress from the day before twisted, and her hair tousled like tangled ears of wheat. A taste of sour wine in her mouth.
Her brother nodded and she filled a glass of water but it was useless to give him a drink if he couldn't sit up. He would end up throwing it all over the bed.
“Don't move him, your highness” The maester appeared in the room with fresh bandages, bottles of medicine and poppy milk. “His condition is still serious. I'll take care of him”
“Okay” She left the glass untouched on the small table and repressed the urge to hug his brother in front of the master. “I'll be back after lunch. If you need anything let me know, please”
“At your orders, your highness”
Cersei left the chambers noticing the tug of Jaime's hand on the skirt of her dress. She didn't want to leave either.
*
The Queen was unable to return to Jaime's chambers after lunch because King Robert demanded her presence at a tournament held among the knights of the Kingsguard. Cersei sat with boredom in the seat next to her husband. Uncomfortable at having to be physically close to the man she loathed. Uncomfortable not knowing how Jaime was doing. Uncomfortable for having to pretend, as always, that she loved a person who had never touched her heart. A person who had never tried to reach out to it either.
Jaime on the other hand had been born holding Cersei's heart in his hands. With care and tenderness. He had cradled it and sung to it while the rest of the men had tried to step on it. Starting with her father, then Robert, and even her own son Joffrey.
When the tournament was over, dusk was tinting the sky orange and the edges of the clouds were tinged with gold. Robert retreated to some corner of the Red Keep to get drunk with a pair of expensive whores Littlefinger had procured him. The Queen slipped away to Jaime's chambers. She heard movement behind the door. Frightened that someone had slipped in, wanting to harm her brother, she slammed the door, startling the maester, who was closing the windows of the room at the time.
“Highness” She bowed in return. “You startled me”
“It’s late. And it’s getting dark”
”I know, my Queen. But your brother has had a slight fever during the day”
“Fever?” The worried woman asked, kneeling on the edge of the bed, and holding Jaimes's hand.
His fingers were already clean and his body smelled of jasmine and honey, the servants must have washed him. The smell of sweat and clotted blood had vanished. And his golden curls were silky ringlets that fringed the Golden Lion's face.
“Not much. Still, I've stayed here to keep an eye on him” He put a hand to his forehead. “The fever broke about two hours ago, and I don't think it will reappear tonight. Still, if anything happen, let me know, your highness”
“I hope I don't have to warn you, maester. See you tomorrow”
“Good night, your grace”
The maester left the chambers and Cersei sat down on the sheets covering the mattress. Jaime was covered up to his knees and wore only grayish cloth breeches. The bandages on his forearm and abdomen were new, clean and not dyed red; his brother's wounds were healing.
His brother was healing.
“Don't worry, Cersei” Jaime was finally able to vocalize a full sentence.
He reached out with his arm and grabbed a wavy lock of Cersei's hair, soft as the silk of her dress. Then he rested his hand on her bare shoulder, the straps of her garment tracing a line at her collarbone. Jaime's hand wrapped around the Queen's shoulder, gripping it, pulling her to him.
“Jaime...” Cersei whimpered, moving up to his mouth and kissing him, wrapping her lips around his.
She kissed his mouth, searching for his tongue with her own, and sighed in relief when she found it. She bit the flesh of his lips, leaving the mark of her teeth on them. She was happy to see his recovery but also rabid that he had left her alone so long to come back a mess.
“I thought of you” The man murmured against her mouth, pulling away from her a few inches. His hand had gripped Cersei's thigh tightly, squeezing the flesh and pulling her to him, pinning his erection against her.
It was harder than it had been in the morning. A hardness Cersei craved and recognized all too well.
“You did?" The Queen asked, bringing her hand to her crotch. She wrapped the erection, filling her hands with it. Just as big as she remembered it. Warm under the fabric. It was like dipping her fingers in hot water.
“I mean it” He gently grabbed her by the neck to make her look him in the eye. “When I thought I was going to be killed I thought of you, Cersei”
“Did you think you were going to be killed?” As she asked the question, the woman pulled her hand away from his crotch and brought it to the wound in his abdomen, feeling another uncomfortable lump in her throat, a prelude to tears.
“Yes. At the end of the battle I thought about it several times. And it almost happened. But in the end we managed to kill them before they killed us”
As he spoke, Cersei looked at Jaime's dark circles under his eyes and his bloodshot eyes. He was dead sleepy even if he disguised it, even if he didn't yawn. On the small table was poppy milk, surely the maester had given him a glass before he left, so that he would sleep well.
He still needed rest.
“At the end of the battle the sky was golden, Cersei. Like your hair, like the gold you always wear around your neck. It was as if all the light around us was you. That's why I thought of you. That light was what guided me in the end”
“If I had been with you I wouldn't have been any light at all, you fool. I would have been a damn sword and I would have killed them all before I let them hurt you. I would have cut them in half to fertilize the earth with their guts”
“My love...” Jaime smiled at his sister's characteristic aggressiveness, his first smile in a long time, and his emerald green eyes narrowed.
“Sleep” She grabbed the sheet and covered him up to his chest. “Luckily we have all the time in the world to discuss what I would be if I were left to fight like you. But not now, now rest”
“But...” Jaime's fingers slid across Cersei's round ass, following the curve of her hips and bristling the Queen's skin. “I'm tired, but...”
“Don't make it harder” She stopped his hands and intertwined his fingers with hers. “We must wait”
“I don't know how to wait with you by my side, Cersei. I have never known how”
“Do you think it will be easier for you to sleep if I go?”
“No” He said gravely, frowning. “Don't even think of leaving”
Jaime closed his eyes and settled back under the sheet.
*
When Cersei awoke, she was alone in bed. Her hand rested where Jaime's chest had once been. She had placed it just above where her brother's heartbeat. But it was gone. She heard the echoing heartbeat.
Alarmed, she snapped her eyes open and the pink light of dawn irritated them. Where had the man gone? He was in no condition to go anywhere. The morning mist fogged the windows. Outside, in the courtyards of the Red Keep, it was quite cold. But inside the room, the warmth of the two bodies had warmed the temperature.
Cersei came out of the chambers and found Jaime walking normally toward her. He wore tangled hair and a sleepy face.
“What are you doing out here?” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the room. “The maester didn't say you could come out”
“I felt like moving, I've been lying in that bed for two days. Drugged with poppy milk. Either I'd move or I'd throw myself out the window”
“You can't fit through the window” Cersei smiled, closing the door. “The maester should be here any minute. Are you hungry?”
“A bit. I only ate once yesterday” He sat down on the bed and very slowly, he lay down on the mattress. He hissed, sore, as the wound in his abdomen stretched from the movement.
“No more rides until further orders” Cersei curled up next to him, sneaking between his legs, and kissed the wound on his abdomen, resting her lips a couple of inches from it.
The flesh was hard, muscular, but soft.
“Your orders or the maester's?” Jaime smiled, curling his fingers into the hair at the nape of his sister's neck.
“I'd say both, but…” She arched a blonde eyebrow and stroked Jaime's chest, finding the longed-for beat of his heart again, touching the relief of his muscles. “Wait for my orders”
“Of course” The man lowered his gaze to Cersei's neck, long and slender as a swan, then down to the neckline of her dress. The breasts bulged, clear and round, imprisoned by the corset. “If you tell me like this... I'll have to listen to you”
“You'd better” She replied, noticing how Jaime's hands cupped her breasts.
His palm was larger than the Queen's breasts, fitting her perfectly, squeezing the soft flesh with his fingers.
“Jaime...”
Cersei climbed up to his neck and smelled his skin. He smelled of man, of knight, of brother, of all that was forbidden, of what the Septons judged and pointed an accusatory finger at in the town square. He smelled of what she liked best, of what made her belly contract with pleasure. She kissed his neck very slowly, wrapping her lips around his flesh, moistening it. Jaime moaned in her ear, the heat of his breath bristling Cersei's skin, as the man's hands slipped brazenly under her skirt, eager. Searching for something, searching for her.
It didn't suit Jaime that they fucked violently like they used to. He was still hurt. But the Queen needed him. She needed to feel him inside, need him to occupy the loneliness he left when he went off to fight. Maybe they could fuck carefully, slowly. Or she could just suck him off. Feel his cock inside her mouth. For the moment it was enough for her, it was enough for her...
They heard the door and Cersei jumped to her feet, greeting the maester.
“Good morning, your highness”
“Good morning”
Jaime pulled the sheet up to his waist, concealing the telltale bulge in his crotch.
“I see you're looking better, Ser Jaime. Let's check those two wounds. The one on the arm was practically healed last night. And as soon as the scar on your abdomen grows a bit more, you'll be recovered. Though there's still time before the healing is complete”
“I'm leaving. I'll be back as soon as I can” Cersei smoothed the waves of her hair with her hand.
Jaime gritted his teeth and his jaw sharpened even more. Cersei knew what he meant: "Look how horny I am, don't leave me alone with this old man”
The Queen laughed softly and walked away, unresolved tension between her thighs.
*
Cersei returned to her chambers and asked the maids to prepare a bath of hot, perfumed water. They washed her hair with essence of lavender and roses, and while she scrubbed her body with a bar of creamy Lys soap, colored by petals of daisies and jasmine. Since her brother had returned to King's Landing she had not bathed. But Robert was so drunk he couldn't even smell himself. Let alone smell anyone above his own stench of alcohol.
Not like Jaime. Even dirty and fresh from fighting, his scent was irresistible. The Queen was melting at the scent his skin gave off.
She dried her body and chose a dress as green as the sea on a cloudy day. And braided her blonde hair into a ponytail that brushed her lower back. She stretched in front of her dressing table, lithe and curvaceous, casting the shadow of a lioness on the marble wall. She would have roared if she could. Making the house of Lannister proud: “Hear my roar” She put two emerald earrings in her earlobes and went down to breakfast with her husband. Who as usual did not show up because the hangover prevented him from moving from bed. She ate with her three children, savoring the delicious combination of blue cheese with grapes, placed in clusters in the center of the table. She hydrated with a cup of black tea with milk and cinnamon, and wished the day would pass quickly so she could return to her brother's arms.
Mid-afternoon, the maester approached Cersei, who was strolling with Myrcella in the castle's Garden of Gods. The girl was clutching her mother with one plump hand and tossing crumbs of stale bread to the pigeons with the other hand.
“My Queen” The old man bowed to the woman. “Ser Jaime is already recovered. The bandage on his arm is no longer necessary. In fact, it is better for the scar to air. The only bandage left is the one on his abdomen, which I will check in a few days. But the prognosis couldn't be better”
“Thank you very much, master”
“Always at your service, your highness” He said before retiring.
“Uncle Jaime was ill?” Myrcella asked innocently.
“Yes, Uncle Jaime was ill”
Cersei stayed with her daughter for a while, until the three younger Lannisters went to dine with their father, who had managed to get to his feet. The woman returned to her chambers for a moment to choose a comfortable outfit for dinner, the dress was rather tight around her waist. She must have put on weight. The last time she wore it, the dress wasn't tight. In fact it was a bit baggy on her.
“Dinner with me?”
The Queen let out a scream that alarmed the Guards.
Jaime was waiting for her, sitting in the boudoir chair. In new, clean clothes. He wore a long, golden, flowing cloak, and underneath white cloth breeches and a grayish shirt. He had put a gold Cersei clip in his hair and looked like Myrcella when she was playing princess.
“The maester told me you're well now” She murmured, closing the door and approaching him. “You look like... Myrcella” She touched the golden pincer and smiled.
“We're family, family looks like” He indicated, taking it off and looking his sister in the eyes.
Jaime's hungry look stopped Cersei's heart. He was well. He was recovered. And they both knew what that meant. What it afforded them.
“I've wanted to fuck you since before I came back, Cersei” He placed his large hands on her hips and pulled her to him.
“And when don't you?” She inquired, biting her bottom lip. She removed his cloak.
The proximity of the bodies was electricity. Cersei rested her nose on Jaime's shoulder and sniffed him from bone to neck, ending at his ear. She sighed with desire, noting the fervor of need in her belly and her pussy soaking like a flower in the summer rain.
“I always do” Jaime grabbed his sister's blonde braid with one hand and with the other lifted her chin to kiss her.
The kiss sparked the spark they were repressing. They intertwined their lips in a feast of tongue and saliva that tasted like glory to Cersei. Jaime's tongue played with hers, and between kisses, the man moaned, wanting to kiss more and more of her. Cersei's pussy tightened, wet under the skirt of the dress. She literally ached for how much she wanted Jaime. Her body needed him inside her. She needed to feel the man moving inside her, like so many other times.
Cersei licked as Jaime's hands gripped her ass tightly. She felt hot lips landing kisses on her neck. Very slow kisses, recreating themselves on her skin as the hands kneaded her ass, pressing her against his erection. The woman grabbed Jaime's cock above the fabric, but was surprised to see Jaime pull it away.
“No. You've taken care of me these days. Now let me do it”
He took her in his arms, without giving her time to react, and laid her on the bed, on top of a handful of silk cushions.
“Jaime, please...” He couldn't deny Cersei her right to have him inside her.
“Later” He silenced her with a kiss, moved down her chin, leaving a trail of saliva, and began to remove her dress. “I'm going to treat you as you deserve”
Cersei felt like crying when she heard him say that. If people treated her as she deserved, then she deserved to be mistreated by everyone. But she knew better. The one who treated her as she deserved, as a woman, was Jaime. Jaime and only Jaime. It had always been him. Ever since they were two children who played at taking off their clothes. Who played at swapping outfits and impersonating each other at Casterly Rock.
The man's hands slowly unbuttoned the dress, button by button, untying the ties. Cersei's body was laid bare, all naked but her undergarments. Her milk-white breasts and her nipples pink as two flower buds. Surprisingly, the Queen blushed. It had been a long time since she had been naked in front of him. Exposed and vulnerable.
Her nipples were stiff and Jaime took one into his mouth, tugging at it.
“They're always this hard when I touch you...”
“Suck them, Jaime. Suck them the way I like it”
Cersei was going crazy when the man licked her nipples. He did it in an uninhibited, dirty way that marked her skin. He licked them, running his tongue over and over them and then kissing and biting them. Pulling at them with his teeth. Then he sucked on the rest of her breast, pinching the sore nipple with his fingers. It was such a pleasurable ache that Cersei's underwear became soaked and the wetness came through the fabric to begin to soak the sheet covering the mattress. Her tits became wet with Jaime's saliva and several teeth marks were drawn reddish on the delicate skin.
“I just want to make you feel good, my love” Jaime murmured, holding Cersei's nipple in his mouth, squeezing the other breast with his hand, the nipple straining between his fingers, so wet it glistened in the light that crept into the room.
If only Jaime knew he was capable of making her feel better than good. If only she could prove it to him. In his arms, beneath the weight of his body, Cersei flew free as a dove.
The man released her tits and kissed her in the center, right where the Queen's heartbeat. Jaime's mouth caressed the skin, trembling from the tremulous rhythm of her heartbeat. Lingering at each hollow, he moved downward, following the white line of her abdomen, colored by an almost imperceptible row of fine, golden hair, which ran from above her navel to Cersei's pubic hair. Jaime reached down to her undergarments and slid them down her legs. He pulled them to the floor and Cersei's pussy opened like a flower before him. The woman blushed again, the heat on her cheeks exciting but also frightening. She had never liked feeling vulnerable. She had never let Robert see her completely naked in the daylight, but with Jaime it was different.
“You're beautiful...” Jaime parted her legs and slipped between them.
He brought two of her fingers up to Cersei's mouth and the woman sucked on them. She knew he would use them to start fucking her. So she enjoyed the taste of the skin on her tongue. The two fingers were already enough to fill most of her mouth. Jaime watched her as she sucked on them, his eyes going from Cersei's lips to her green eyes.
“Stop” He said, running his wet fingers over her lower lip. “Stop because I'm not going to last if you keep doing it”
Jaime went to the hollow between her thighs and parted her folds until her clitoris was perfectly in view. He knew the Queen's anatomy very well. With his tongue he stroked the clitoris, first slowly up and down, acknowledging the round pink nub that crowned the area. Then he sucked on it, exerting a little pressure, and Cersei arched her back like a cat, writhing in pleasure in his mouth.
“You're going to kill me” The woman moaned, clutching Jaime's golden curls.
“On the contrary” He said, making circular motions around her clitoris.
Cersei's pussy dripped the more he stimulated it, a large patch of wetness formed on the sheet, and Jaime's chin was soaked with tiny droplets of womanhood. The Queen's entrance was dilated, Jaime slipped both fingers through it, carefully, remembering the shape of her insides. The rough flesh inside parted easily, slippery and warm. The man flexed his fingers, touching the sensitive spot of her clit from the inside. Cersei's pussy squeezed his fingers in a contraction of pleasure.
“Jaime… Fuck me, please” She whimpered, wetting the sheets more and more, unable to hold back. She felt as if she was melting in his fingers.
“I'm doing it” He pulled his fingers out, listening to the delicious sound of them leaving Cersei's pussy, and slipped them back in, this time fast, with a hard thrust, but the pussy was so open that there was no impediment.
“No, Jaime. I mean with your dick. Please, I want to feel you inside me. Fingers are not...”
Cersei stopped talking. She noticed tears in her eyes.
It wasn't that fingers weren't enough, it was that she wanted the man to look into her eyes as he fucked her, his face just inches from hers. To have him between her legs like that was to have him away. After the last few days, not just anything was enough. She wanted him as close as possible.
As close as a man and a woman could be.
“Are you all right?” Jaime stopped, alarmed, and climbed up Cersei's body to cradle her cheeks in his hands. “What's wrong?”
“I was frightened, Jaime...” A tear slid down her cheekbone, like a pearl. “When I saw you so badly and so full of wounds...”
“I know” The man kissed her where the tear had passed, and let the whole weight of his body fall on her. “But I'm all right now, Cersei. I'm with you again”
“Yes, you are...” Cersei nodded with relief and squeezed her eyes shut, letting two last tears wet her face.
She pulled her brother's shirt off. His lean, muscular chest was outlined in the dim light that remained in the room. Cersei ran her hands over it, lingering on the blond hair, she loved burying her fingers in it, especially in the thicket near his crotch. She reached down to his pants and pulled them down. Jaime's cock was hard and ready to fuck, with its pink head and a couple of veins near the base. Cersei sighed, she wanted him so badly. She wrapped her hand around the cock and moved up and down, feeling the skin stretching and relaxing as she pulled it very gently. The touch was warm and intimate. She stopped at the tip and ran her thumb over the glans, wet with pre-seminal fluid. Before it rained it always sparkled.
“I was frightened too” Jaime moaned, resting his forehead on Cersei's shoulder, enjoying the caresses, which made his cock even harder, although it seemed impossible that it could be any harder.
“No one is going to make you feel like this, Jaime” She brought his cock to the folds of her pussy, completely soaked and reddened. She stroked them with his cock, which became wet with the woman's flow, slipping between the folds.
“Cersei...” He sighed in her ear, melting into the wet contact.
“I could cum with this alone”
“I'm going to fuck you like you like it”
Cersei withdrew her hand and kissed him, the man trapped her lips between his, hungrily. And without separating from her, he penetrated her, parting the flesh inside her and filling her completely.
“Yes, Jaime...”
The man moved inside her, setting a quick, eager pace. Neither of them was going to last much longer. Jaime's hips were bucking against hers, and her pussy was so wet and tight she could feel the tip of his cock brushing her insides. Cersei was a couple more lunges away from orgasm, but on nights like that she liked it to be a slow orgasm. To prolong it as long as she could with her breathing, and for that she needed Jaime to relax.
“Jaime… Look at me” She grabbed his face, releasing him from his ecstasy of pleasure, and cast her eyes over his. “Fuck me slowly. You have to relax...”
A bead of sweat broke out on the man's forehead. He looked and listened to Cersei. He leaned back on his elbows, stopping the penetration, and kissed her very slowly. He changed the pace and began to move carefully, dilating the penetration as much as possible, as if they had all the time in the world to fuck, as if they both had no other lives outside the bedroom. Jaime moved in and out of her slowly. Cersei brought her hands to the man's hip bone, stroking the skin, indicating to him that she liked it that way. This slow, this loving, this gentle.
“I wish I could stay like this all my life” Jaime whispered in her ear, almost in a moan.
“Don’t stop...” The Queen sighed.
She had her eyes closed. She listened to Jaime's breathing against her neck, the sound of his cock slipping in and out of her. She felt Jaime's flesh on her fingers. She smelled the sweat and wetness of both sexes. She tasted the saliva and the memory of Jaime's fingers on her tongue. She opened her eyes. She saw the man's broad, muscular back, the outline of his ass moving on top of her. To Cersei, that was paradise, an infinite paradise to which she could always return in her memory.
Jaime grunted unable to hold it in any longer, and the woman felt the man's seed spreading inside her. As he cummed, Jaime didn't speed up, but rather stretched out the orgasm for several seconds. He continued to fuck Cersei with the seed inside, and in a matter of an instant, an orgasm bristled the woman's body, rising in her pussy and spreading throughout her body. Jaime moved so slowly that the pleasure lasted for a few infinite seconds that took her out of that room. She forgot who she was, and as she finished she returned to her body.
She kissed Jaime's neck, each kiss a statement of intent. She never wanted him to move. She wanted to be protected, in his arms, always. Always.
“We need to talk to the maester so the seed doesn't make a baby” Jaime joked, exhausted over Cersei.
“Yes, but later. Let's stay like this for a while” She told him, noticing how Jaime's penis lost hardness, how the man's breathing slowed.
“All night if you want”