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Jaime was surprised that something so mundane as climbing steps with a tray of food could be so precarious. But then what did he expect when he had only one hand to balance it. He once more wished that the heavy golden hand that he now wore was less ornate and more practical.
Once he made it to the next landing, he shifted the cumbersome platter and then resumed his ascent up the White Tower stairs. If he dropped this, then he would have to go back for more and would lose valuable time.
Finally, Jaime reached the top and the guard at the cell door curtly nodded at him in recognition. Without a word, the burly man opened the thick wooden door for the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. The soldier did not sneer or leer at the one-handed knight. But then Jaime figured there should be no suspicion. For days he had been using this as a pretense to visit the wench.
As Jaime entered the room, Brienne’s sapphire eyes lit up when she saw him. She schooled her features before the guard could notice her appreciative stare. After the door was shut and bolted, she leveled a shy smile at the man before her.
“Jaime,” she breathed his name as a reverence.
Musing, he supposed it was only right, for with him she had seen the Seven.
He had just placed the tray on the small table by her bed when she was suddenly by his side. Leaning in, her lips brushed his gently. Soon her tentative kisses became more ardent, and Jaime could not help but grin against them. “Miss me, wench?”
She grunted out, “The name’s Brienne.” And her kisses were so fierce that they stole his breath away. He would admit that though she often came off as restrained and awkward, once she felt more confident about something, she put her whole passion into it.
It did not take long for her to divest him of his armor breastplate and gauntlets. Then between the two of them, they got his shirt off, and then her shift joined his on the floor. As Jaime toed off his boots, he was pleased to see that she no longer bothered with small clothes.
The first time they had been together in this cell, she had been a demurred maid, who needed to be coaxed from her shell. It took some work, but now she seemed ravenous for human contact. He should not be surprised by her reaction, for the past week he had been the only one who would visit her. But then she seemed to crave his touch more than most.
Leaving his pants on, he pushed her back towards the bed. The entire time, his lips seldom parted from hers. Once Brienne’s long legs bumped against the wooden frame, he followed her down, and his body pinned her flat against the straw-filled mattress.
Jaime began to passionately kiss down her thick throat, his metal hand grazing against her breasts.
Brienne arched against the cold touch. She wasn’t repulsed by the lack of a real hand and seemed to enjoy the cool metal that made her nipples button. While he continued to brush the puckering flesh, his mouth fastened onto one teat, teasingly suckling it. As she whimpered from his carnal abuse, his left hand made its way down her muscular stomach to tangle with the thick thatch of hair that he had first admired in the baths at Harrenhal.
He should have known she could do this to him, turn him on just by touching her. It first happened when he had grasped her hand as it had tightened around the carving knife at Roose Bolton’s table. Jaime had never before felt such intense prickly heat that seemed to caress its way to his very core. And by her shocked reaction, it was obvious that she had felt it too.
On the ride back to King’s Landing, they had only shared longing looks. It was in the cell of the White Tower that they had made their wishes fulfilled.
Now she bucked against his warm hand as it cupped the juncture between her legs.
As he slowly inserted one finger, she whimpered, and he hissed up at her, “Quiet wench.”
Brienne nodded weakly, and he added another finger from his deft left hand as it foraged below. When his delving fingers began to speed up, her head twisted from side to side, and she did her best not to make a sound.
Jaime reveled at how responsive she was, his cock straining in his britches. Tempting as it was, he would never take her maidenhead, for that was a dishonor that he could never do to her. Brienne had seen him at his worst, not at his best. And her trusting manner made him want to prove to her that he was a good man at heart.
Instead, his thumb rubbed against her clit. Not being able to help herself, she mewed loudly. Jaime did not want to leave his place latched to her nipple to kiss her breath away, so he pushed his golden hand in her gasping open mouth, muffling her cries when his fingers began to scissor within her. As his clever fingers worked faster, she squealed around his cold metal hand.
One of her large hands desperately gripped his golden wrist, hanging onto it for dear life as he continued to make her whine and beg for more. Her other hand clutched the bedding tight as if it helped to keep her grounded.
She was so close. Her long, strong legs bucked harder, and his weight could hardly hold her down. Loving to watch her come undone, Jaime glanced up as he lightly bit down on her nipple. That took her over the edge, and she howled taut against his golden hand, her amazing blue eyes wide then slamming shut.
Spent, she let everything go and collapsed weakly onto the bed. Jaime smiled and began to kiss up her collarbone. He nuzzled her neck until she was slowly revived by his loving kisses.
She gazed at him with hooded eyes as he licked the fingers from his left hand clean, “Waste not, want not, wench.”
“That was amazing.” Brienne breathed out. Every time it was for her. Her eyes glanced down at the bulge in his trousers, and she smiled shyly.
Her large hand palmed his covered arousal, and she lightly kneaded him through his pants. He groaned and thrust against her hand, willing himself not to spend too soon.
Rolling him onto his back, she then deftly untied his britches. Tugging them free and off, she stared at his thick erection, contemplating how to proceed.
“Looking is nice and all wench. But if that worked, I would never miss my hand.” He chortled weakly at his jest, and her gaze ratchets up to his. Those expressive blue eyes could so easily see the pain that was there in his. Not just of the agony of having his hand chopped off, but of all the possibilities that were now lost to him.
With care, she grasped his cock in her calloused hand and gently squeezed. When they had first started this tryst, she had been so innocent, but over time, determination and the need to do everything right, she had learned fast.
He groaned at the warmth of her touch and jerked in her hand. Smiling, she leaned over and began to lick his shaft, teasing his thick member until pre-cum seeped from its tip.
Her eyes suddenly focused on his, and he gulped at the trust and longing that he saw in them. Something he had not seen from another since he had gotten back to King’s Landing with only one hand. But then Brienne was nothing like his vain sister. Not just in appearance, but in her whole embodiment.
As Jaime stared at her, he watched enraptured as her large toothy mouth opened, and she lowered her head, taking him all in.
Gasping loudly, Jaime threw back his head and groaned. His guttural moaning suddenly stopped, and he glared down at her, betrayed.
Her stern gaze warned him that he needed to be quiet, so after a quick nod of understanding, he placed his metal hand over his mouth. Satisfied, she once more sank her mouth down around him and began to suck in earnest.
Before Jaime’s head fell back in euphoria, he saw a mischievous glint reflected in her eyes. He had a feeling that a challenge to stay silent had been declared. Sure enough, his wench began to slide her mouth up and down his shaft while she sucked it. Her lips forming a perfect sheath for his thickening cock.
To hold back his sudden cry, he pressed his metal fingers against his mouth. Jaime vowed that he would get even, and that was a debt he knew he would enjoy repaying.
One of her hands reached up and lightly scratched his chest, and he raised himself to meet her blunt nails. Her other hand cupped his balls and deftly fondled them. Ah, his wench was indeed a fast learner, he thought. Then he felt her alternate between licking and nibbling his shaft, her crooked teeth adding to the intense sensations that soon overrode all thought.
Feeling him near his release, Brienne sucked harder, her head rotating as she went up and down faster on his throbbing member. When she combined that was the gentle grazing of her teeth, his vision momentarily blurred. Jaime barely stopped himself in time from yelling out his exultation, biting hard into his golden hand as he suddenly came.
Dazed, he hardly registered her milking his cock dry with that amazing expressive mouth of hers.
Now it was her kisses on his slack face that helped to center him. Coming to his senses, he turned to her as she dropped next to his sated body. Both stared at one another, each wearing silly, pleased grins. During this, their hands could not stop caressing the others tingling body.
With his strength coming back, Jaime once more leaned over her and pushed her flat onto her back. As he studied her, he lightly circled her breasts with his metal hand.
Brienne bowed as it once more rasped against her nipples, and she bit her lower lip to hold in her involuntary whimper. It seemed that his wench was doing her best to stay quiet under his ministrations. Well, he would just see about that. Breaking her stubborn reserve was a challenge he loved doing. Besides, he had a debt to repay.
He continued to lightly scratch the cold metal up and down her writhing body.
Though pleased by her reactions to his golden hand, he was also surprised by them. But then it made sense that a woman, who relied on a sword for her sole protection, would be more in tune with something made of metal. Her sword had never betrayed her, mocked her or caused her pain. He imagined that over the years she had developed more of an affinity to steel than of flesh.
Inspired by a devious thought, he decided to see just how attuned she was to it. Playfully, he nipped her neck, distracting her as his metal hand caressed down her lean body until it reached her sodden curls below.
Obviously, she could never take the whole thing, but his metal thumb was large enough to be enjoyable. Carefully he inserted the thick object past her folds and into her slick cunt. The ornate filigree adding texture and bumps that nearly had her coming then and there. Maybe in some ways this was better than his original hand, he thought with a smirk.
When he began to slowly piston the heavy digit in and out of her, his mouth once more found hers. As she gasped, her head began to turn away. Quickly he grabbed the back of her hair to hold her steady and his tight grip prevented her lips from getting away from his. It was still difficult to muffle her pleading whimpers while his ornate thumb stroked deeper.
Speeding up the abuse to her cunt, the usually reserved Maid of Tarth attempted to squirm free, the stimulation nearly too much for her. But Jaime knew his wench could take it.
Her uncontrollable movements were more powerful than before, so he had to drape himself fully on top of her to keep her from bucking free. Jaime now proved he was strong enough to hold her down just as he declared he could when he had challenged her that time on the open road.
As Brienne’s hips jerked harder in time to his quickening thrusts, Jaime found himself scarcely able to swallow her rising cries. Hearing that she was close to the edge, he abruptly twisted his thumb inside her. He made sure to continuously rub the ornate ribbed side against the special spot that made her gape like a landed fish.
Finally, she came, so hard and strong that she almost pulled his golden hand free when her legs closed tight around it. Her loud wail of release was barely stifled by his ardent mouth. As she became limp, he pulled his thumb free and her body shuddered one last time.
Moaning in pleasure, Brienne’s blue eyes cracked open, and she smiled warily at him. “You will be the death of me, Kingslayer.”
He chuckled, for from her lips, that moniker was a term of endearment. When he brought his glistening golden hand up to his lips, she grabbed it and began to lick it clean. Tonguing it delicately, she then seductively suckled his metal fingers and thumb.
Groaning at the image, Jaime felt himself getting hard once more. With her wanton gaze aimed only at him, it took all of his control to stop himself from yanking open her legs and fucking her senseless. Regardless of keeping her honor intact, he could not stay longer anyway. Already it was getting late, and he did not want the guards to suspect.
One of these days he wished he could stay with a woman that he did not have to run away from, so no others could find out. To sleep next to them and enjoy them longer than once an afternoon, but now was not the time, and she, like his sister, was not one he could risk doing so with.
Instead, he sat up and grabbed his pants, pulling them back on. Brienne watched sullenly as he tucked himself in. After shrugging into his tunic, he then picked up the rest of his gear.
As he awkwardly buckled his armor breastplate and gauntlets in place, Brienne yawned, and Jaime was envious of her predicament. He still had rounds to do, and a meeting with the Kingsguard later. He also needed to convince Loras Tyrell that Brienne did not kill Renly Baratheon. He thought sending him up here later for a chat might convince the young Thorn of her earnestness. At least he knew they would never do anything but talk. She was his wench now and no one else’s.
Leaning over, he kissed her lips, now tasting her primal essence on them. When he pulled away, he saw that her gaze was displeased that he must go. He cockily smirked at her, “Until next time, my Lady.”
After Brienne nodded in determination, she shyly glanced down at his golden hand and licked her lips in anticipation at all the possibilities.
With a pleased grin, Jaime saluted her with it and then spun on his heel to leave.
No, she was nothing like his sister.