Comment fic meme #2
After the first round of got_exchange we had a surprisingly successful comment fic meme going for a while (here's a list of all the fics that were written last time), so I thought it might be fun to do this again. (Like last time, it's posted on the mod account journal because I don't want to enable anonymous comments on the exchange community.)
I changed the ( Read more... )
I changed the ( Read more... )
“So fucking wet,” he rasps while his left hand’s thumb traces circles around her clit. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Look at your cunt. You can’t wait for me to fuck you, can you?”
From the way she’s moaning beneath him, he can’t be too wrong.
“Seven hells, even your thighs are getting wet.” He runs his thumb along her inner thigh - no harm in pushing things a bit. “I should make you taste it one of these times,” he says casually, almost joking, but he doesn’t miss the way the blue in her eyes becomes darker at that.
He isn’t expecting what comes out of her mouth after.
“And why don’t you taste it, instead?”
The situation might be almost comical to anyone else - she’s not breaking eye contact with him, but the red in her cheeks isn’t all because it’s hot inside the room. For a second she looks as if she doesn’t even understand how she could have said it out loud, but it’s not the point. The point is that there’s a certain heat pooling down in between Jaime’s legs, mostly because her tone was absolutely serious. They did it before, but he has never spent much time on it. And he liked the straightforward tone she used. It does things to his knees that he has no name for.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, trying to keep the tone serious, as well.
“I’m - if you’re -” she starts, but Jaime isn’t hearing any of it.
“Again. Is that what you want? Don’t think for a second that I might be offended,” he adds before bringing his fingers back over the inner part of her thigh again.
“What if it was?”
Jaime grins at that before moving back and sliding down from the bed. “And why should I deny my lady - apologies, my wench, anything?”
Her legs part the moment his knees hit the ground. He runs his hands over her legs and thighs, feeling taut muscle under his fingertips, and when he puts his tongue on her she screams in pleasure, and his own cock hardens a tiny bit just hearing it. He smiles before running his tongue over hot, wet flesh again and again (and he thinks he will kiss her later before he wipes his mouth clean - he did say that he’d make her taste it). He groans when her hands reach down and tangle in his hair, and the moment she pushes his head down he reaches down with his left hand and palms himself through his breeches. The more he goes on, the more she moans his name and yes and there and more; when she peaks, he doesn’t even think about moving away his head, not that the hold she has on him would have made it easy.
When he moves his head away, her hands still tangled in his hair, he licks his lips. They’re sticky, and they taste bitter (but not unpleasantly), and when Brienne moves to a sitting position he looks up at her. Her whole cheek is flushed, deep pink, freckles standing against it, but it’s not because of embarrassment - or at least it’s not entirely that. Her lips (even more swollen from kissing) are slightly parted, a hint of teeth visible, and when one of her trembling fingers touches his sticky bottom lip he doesn’t really think before touching it with his tongue.
She does taste herself on his lips later, while he’s thrusting deep inside her (and it’s a relief - he has been hard for what seems like ages); and obviously, she’s the first to speak (again) when they’re both lying down on the bed, after.
“Is - is everything all right?” she asks, sounding half-embarrassed all over again.
“Do I look miserable to you?”
“That you don’t. But at one point - I wasn’t really thinking. I haven’t gone too far, have I?”
And she still blushes as if she still was a maiden, but Jaime won’t be the one to complain about it. Gods help him, he thinks he’d be happy if she never stopped doing that.
He also supposes she means the part where she almost literally cut the air from his lungs.
“I wish all my sufferings had been of that kind.” He cuts it at that point. He doesn’t tell her that he had liked it as much as she likes hearing him talk in detail about how wet she can get for him.
She probably suspects it on her own.
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