We're All Going to Die - Missing Scenes

BY : pippychick
Category: G through L > Game of Thrones
Dragon prints: 1944
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones, and I make no money from this work of fanfiction.

Author's Note: This chapter was written for Tormund'sBitch over on Ao3.

This is to be read in conjunction with my other story in this series: We're All Going to Die. This work will consist of a series of odd chapters and requests that get thrown my way by readers and reviewers, and odd little bits that I want to write for myself.

This one in particular is a re-imagining of a specific scene, but written from Tormund's point of view. That being the case, it shouldn't come as any surprise if it seems fairly familiar in places. But I hope you enjoy it!

It's always interesting to write scenes from the pov of other characters, and I've done this exact same thing before. I often do it without publishing those pieces just to test my direction. To me, if you're writing a story that involves a threesome, you should be able to make each scene work for each character. If it doesn't, then you're writing it wrong.


Tags: MF, Oral, Bondage, Non-Con elements, Wildling Marriage.


Chapter Twenty-two – Tormund's Point of View


After his conversation with Clegane, Tormund was feeling kind of quiet over dinner. It made him proud, to hear that Clegane believed Brienne was not out of his reach. He'd had wives before this, sometimes more than one at a time. He'd never had anyone quite like her. She was the one, if there was such a thing. Such a fierce fighter, she made his blood run hot. And the wild thing she was beneath that? Every time he saw her come out, there was only one thing he wanted with Brienne, and tonight he was going to get it, come what may. He'd feel that first, before his success or failure with her. He'd be inside of her first, even if it went the wrong way for him.


Tormund appeared to contemplate his dinner as he ate, but he wasn't really seeing it. He was imagining how the evening might go. There was a ritual to all of this, and she wasn’t one of the free folk, so she wasn't aware of it. Some of his other women, they hadn't gone so far as to have the whole thing. They just agreed to be together and that was just fine by him. Some of them had wanted the entire thing, but they'd known what they were doing, what they were getting into, what was involved in terms of surrender. This was a dangerous game, to bait her like this, and he knew it. He wasn't afraid. It would end one of two ways, and the reward was worth the risk. How could there be any fear in him?


It was important as well, of course. He couldn't just agree to be together with her. For one thing, she was keeping something back from them. If Clegane didn't suspect it, then more fool him. There was a reason Brienne didn't mind sharing her bed with them, and it wasn't because she liked them taking up the space. It was because she had some plan to deal with them if it came to that. She had some way of ensuring her own safety should things go wrong. Tormund knew that too. This was required, this ritual. After it was done, Brienne wouldn't be hiding anything from him any more.


He ate quickly with his fingers, and he appreciated being in Winterfell every time they ate. Food had started to get scarce even before he'd come south of the wall. With the approaching winter, there'd been less and less to hunt. It was still an unbelievable novelty, to come here and sit down, and have food brought to him like it was growing on the trees. It wasn't growing on the trees now.


Though he was deep in thought, he didn't miss her looking at him over the table, but he decided not to play. At least, not yet. They could play again once this was all done. Those looks became a deliberate stare, but he didn't respond. She sighed, once, loudly, and inwardly he smiled to himself at this little proof of how much she wanted his attention.


A few minutes passed, and then she pushed her plate closer to his, across the table, so that she could lean forward behind it. Tormund let his eyes flicker up at that, but only as far as the display she gave him, that little suggestive shadow between her breasts. He was surprised she was prepared to be so daring. That bode very well for him. He continued eating, not looking away from that little show until she sat up straight again with a mutter of annoyance.


About halfway through, things came to a head, and he felt her foot knock against his under the table. He paused, then that foot crept up over his ankle. That couldn't be ignored. He looked up, pretending to an alarm he didn't feel, and looked at Clegane first.


“Is that your foot?” he asked. Clegane smirked and shook his head. As if it had only just occurred to him, he looked under the table as if to verify his suspicion, then across at her. She stared back at him, proud, as if daring him to ignore her now. Tormund nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on hers as her foot caressed the back of his calf.


“All right,” he said, then he did glance down at her plate, in case she had beaten him to it, but her meal was only half eaten, just like theirs. He looked back at her, and he wasn't playing at all. “You want me?” he propositioned plainly. “Or you want to finish your dinner first?”


He was ready. The choice was hers. They could do this now if she wanted. Brienne looked down at her dinner, then bit her lip. She sighed, then picked up her fork and stabbed some carrots with it as if they'd defied her somehow. She stopped the teasing beneath the table. Tormund turned to Clegane and winked. Not quite ready yet, then.


Maybe there were Gods, maybe there weren't. Tormund didn't know, and he'd never really given it that much thought before this. His belief was in himself first, and in the might of his own sword arm. But now he found himself thinking about how they were all bonded, how they'd become a little clan. He wondered about that, and found himself hoping for the blessing of the Old Gods, if they really were out there.


Dinner ended without further interruption, and they made their way back to her room in silence. Once there, she seemed quiet and pensive, so that he felt like a predator as he watched her turn around and face them.


“It's my turn every time from now on, isn't it?” she asked, looking at them both, one at a time. Tormund didn't say anything, she knew what the answer was, and she didn't need to be told. Brienne was a woman, not a girl, and he respected her as such.


“Every time,” Clegane said. “Sometimes, you'll get two turns, all at once.” She stared at Clegane, her eyes widening as she swallowed, then she turned to him.


My turn now. He thought the words so clearly he was half convinced he'd spoken them out loud. He let his gaze roam over her, hungry for it. All these long days. They were over and done with. She'd made the agreement, given her permission, she couldn't withdraw it now. No more playing, no more teasing, no more playing in the shallows. Tonight, if it went well, he would take her deep and she would never want to let him go.


He took the few steps to her, and she didn't move, didn't back away, but he still felt predatory somehow. Perhaps it was just that lingering nervousness in her, but it seemed like something more this night. Did she sense it, what was coming? Did she understand, somewhere deep down, what was going to happen between them? As he reached her, she looked down at her feet, and he lifted her chin with one hand, but she closed her eyes.


“Please,” she said, “don't.” She was trembling, and in his pocket, the restraints he had brought with him seemed suddenly completely unnecessary. After everything, was she going to be as easy and docile as this? Brienne? No. This couldn't be right. There was something terribly wrong here, and he would uncover it before they continued. But then before he could find out what it was, Clegane interrupted them.


“Tormund,” he said. “You got any of that spirit about you tonight?”


Surprised, he looked around and found a little flask that he carried around most of the time and tossed it over. Clegane nodded at him in thanks. “Brienne,” he said then. “You want a drink?”


Suddenly she opened her eyes, and smiled, looking around at Clegane. “Gods, yes, please. Just a little one,” she said, and Tormund frowned. Was she afraid of him? But then it didn't matter, because she was sliding her hands up to his shoulders, leaning in towards him, all nice and relaxed again. Yes, much better. She whispered into his ear.


“Please, don't be like that,” she murmured. “Don't be angry with me. I want you so much I can't tell you. As much as I wanted him last night, and I thought you wanted us all to share like this...”


Tormund began to laugh. He honestly couldn't help it. Suddenly her behaviour made sense, and it was so simple it released some of the tension that was in him. She thought he was jealous! Of Clegane too, of all things. He was laughing so hard that as she let him go, he leaned over slightly as Clegane stared at them both, glass in his hand. Brienne was scowling at him now, as if she were about to knock him down again, and so he tried to rein it in, because that probably wouldn't be a good start to the evening. Somehow that was even funnier, and he continued to laugh.


“Well! You were ignoring me!” she accused, angry. “And then you gave me that awful, dark look, and I didn't know what to do about it!” She stomped over to a chair and sat down. “It's not as if I could beat it out of you, and I wanted you to be happy about us all again.”


“All right,” Clegane said, his face like thunder. “Does one of you want to tell me what the fuck just happened?”


Tormund shook his head, still laughing. He'd said he was going to make her angry, he didn't think he'd be starting like this. She was all spectacular and pissed off again, as beautiful as any woman he'd ever seen, and she didn't know anything at all, didn't understand anything.


It only lasted for a moment before he saw her drink, and seeing that actually sobered him up quite a bit, because it wasn't like her. She was upset, already nervous before this, and considering what he planned for her to endure, it wasn't really fair to laugh at her.


“I thought he was angry with me,” she said to Clegane, then fidgeted, clearly embarrassed. “So I told him not to be, because I want him as much as I want you.” She glared at him. “Though I'm starting to reconsider.”


Tormund saw Clegane smirk and hide it, and he felt very serious all of a sudden. He knelt before her, to make it right. “Brienne,” he said, to reassure her. “I am not angry.” He thought for a second. “Perhaps, tonight, you would permit me to be nervous, yes?”


“Nervous?” she queried, frowning, and then her face cleared. He'd turned it all around for her, so that she could relax, and she did, he saw it happen in her eyes. “Oh...” She smiled a little. Tormund took the half empty glass from her hands.


“You don't need this,” he told her, putting it to one side on the floor. She gave him an uncomfortable look.


“I don't really drink,” she confessed, and he knew she didn't.


“I know,” he said, still reassuring her. “We should get more comfortable. Like last night. Get you ready between us.” At that he glanced to Clegane, and he nodded. Tormund stood up and held out his hands, waiting for her, but there was really nowhere else for her to go but to him.


When he pulled her up into his embrace, it was like the world was right again, and he held her in his arms, encouraging. She turned her face towards his, asking for it, and he made sure he knew precisely where the bed was before he kissed her. Her arms were around his middle, hands pressed to his back, and he moved, walking her backwards in little steps until she would feel the edge of the bed against her legs, then he lowered her down, following so that they didn't break apart.


She tasted so wonderful, and she'd never believe it if he told her, but she tasted of clean water and freshly fallen virgin snow... only much warmer. He moved them, so that he was laid upon her as the kiss continued, and she was playing with him, her own tongue darting into his mouth occasionally, unconsciously teasing. She seemed captivated when he pulled back, her eyes darkening, so inviting. If he could have fucked her right then, in that moment, he would have done.


“You're not really nervous at all, are you?” she asked, smiling a little. He smiled back and shook his head.


“No, beauty. But you are, and that's all right.” He drew in a breath and tilted his head, remembered her fear that he was angry. “You make me happy that you share yourself with both of us. Never doubt it.” He stared at her. He might want inside her now, but he did regret not having time to play for longer, out there. It would have been fun to win her around slowly, despite herself. It would have been fun to hunt down her desire until she couldn’t help admitting to it, until she couldn’t help hunting him right back. “Even I wish we had longer to get here. Chasing you would have been one of the greatest pleasures of my life. If we win, we will make up for it later, yes?”


She smiled at him, and he let her up as she began to get undressed, much happier now. He and Clegane matched her, and he let his own things drop by the side of the bed, ensuring his open pocket was on the top. Neither of them noticed, and why would they?


Brienne seemed torn between them then, turning quickly from him to Clegane, excited and nervous all at the same time.


“You’re very excited,” Clegane noted, when she was facing him.


“It’s not going to hurt tonight, is it?” she asked, and behind her Tormund grinned. She was looking forward to it. That was good.


They continued speaking, but his attention drifted from their words, because he had her in his hands, her beautiful body, which was made for him and Clegane. She was strong, but she still had a woman’s curves and hollows, and he wanted to capture all of it with his hands. Then later, with his lips. She was arguing with Clegane about something now, and he was laughing at her.


What a time to argue! Tormund decided to distract her, and he began by kissing his way down her spine, hearing her intake of breath, then that quiet little moan of awareness. She was so new to all of this, every sensation was a constant surprise to her. It was so easy to direct her attention where it ought to be. Her body was quick to pleasure. Brienne might not realise it just yet, but she was made for this just as surely as she was made for fighting. They were two similar sports. Both were all about physicality and lust. She would learn.


Too excited, she turned to face him, wriggling between them, her eyes dark with expectation, and Tormund didn’t stop her when she lowered her hand to touch him, but he did keep her touch slow and steady, staring into her eyes until she was all but begging him with that sultry gaze.


She licked her lips. “You’re ready,” she said, “I’m ready. Do it to me.”


Tormund shook his head. “You think you’re ready, woman. I know better.” Time to slow her down a little. She was willing, so it was easy to get her onto her back, then move down her body slightly, placing little kisses all the way, until he was hovering above her midriff.


“Kiss her for me, Clegane,” he said, “and keep her quiet.”


“I can be quiet!” Brienne immediately protested, then let go of a long, loud deep moan when he went low enough to kiss her belly button, brushing his beard over her sensitive stomach. Soon, Clegane got to work and all he could hear was a muffled deep hum of pleasure as he continued. He held her hips down to the mattress with his palms while he made her stomach muscles almost dance.


Some time later, when he deemed it enough, he went lower, and gave her at least some of what she wanted.


When she began to protest, he realised Clegane had moved onto his favourite parts. Couldn’t blame the man. He’d never seen a woman react so strongly to being played with like that. But it meant she could speak, and speak she did.


“Tormund, you know what I want,” she said. “Give it to me.”


He laughed quietly, and given the current position of his mouth, it was a thing that made her tingle. She shivered beneath his lips. “But I want more!” she bemoaned, when she could speak. “Just like you said at the beginning. It’s not enough.”


He was listening, but he paused to lick heavily at her from where her pussy was trembling for him, right up to her clitoris. Something about her body warmed and relaxed further, her legs opening wider while that little bead of flesh peeked out even more, begging for his attention.


“It’s enough for now,” he told her, letting the shape of his whispered words caress her right there. “Enough for me.”


Brienne moaned, but she didn’t beg, and so Tormund decided she couldn’t truly be serious about that need in her. Not yet. Which meant there was more time for play.


Ignoring her centre for a moment, he turned his head and delivered a slight but exquisite love bite to the inside of her thigh. Warmer again. He chanced to look up the bed, and Clegane was doing some kind of job on her breasts. Now he was kneading them in his hands, while both her nipples were pebbled and shiny with spit, deep red. Her face was flushed and sweating while Clegane nibbled at her ear, and her eyes were closed.


They were too delicious to be left there, wanting like that. Tormund moved back up over her body, taking one of her wrists to let her touch him as he suckled on her. She offered herself up to his mouth so beautifully, and her hand felt so good he almost forgot his plan and took her there and then. When she understood he’d moved up her body she’d wrapped her legs around him in welcome, and she was so warm, so promising. Come into me, be with me. Oh, he almost forgot. But then she spoke.


“Do it to me now,” she said. “Do it now or I swear I’ll kill you. Tormund, don’t make me wait like this, after everything!”


One last long lingering pull on her nipple and he let it go, only to look into her eyes. There she was, that wild Brienne again, and she was in earnest about the threat. As he stared at her she moved a little below him, until they were poised, but he had no intention of going there – not yet. Not like this. The ritual could not start with a threat from her.


“You are merely teasing yourself like this, beauty,” he told her seriously. “If you kill me, how will you ever know my cock then?” He shrugged, then grinned at the astonished look on her face, and headed down again. He wasted no time, but went hard on her to make sure she couldn’t answer back, and he was successful at that. All she could manage were a series of quickly escalating cries until she came on his tongue, all hot and creamy, just a hint of sweetness about her.


Once, well that just wasn’t enough, and he made her do it again before he moved away, hoping this time she’d be a little more co-operative. To his surprise, although she was undone, and clearly currently overwhelmed by the two of them, her words were as sharp as ever.


She gazed at him, her lower lip stuck out a little. “How many times must I ask you now?” she queried, and he smiled. Yes! This was the woman he’d wanted from the beginning. In answer to the challenge, he prepared to repeat what he’d just given her, but then she stopped him, actually grasping his arms.


“No! Please! Don't!” She seemed to struggle for the words. She'd never begged for anything in her life before. Not while sensible, at least. “Tormund.” She bit her lip, and he gave her a moment, waiting. At last she sighed in capitulation. “Please, do it to me.” She reached down with her hand, and he let her, feeling her fingers curl around him. He drew in a slight breath. “I want it inside me, Tormund. Fuck me, please.”


Now they could progress. This first moment of surrender was nothing to what he would shortly require of her, but it was a beginning. “Yes, beauty,” he said, nodding. “It is time.”


She hissed an exuberant “Yes!” beneath him, which almost made him laugh out loud, but the seriousness of the situation weighed heavily enough to counteract it. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him, then drew back licking her lips. No doubt she could taste herself. Without a word, he gave Clegane a single meaningful look, and depended on him to understand it.


At last it was time, and yet Tormund found he couldn’t help indulging himself. He framed her face with one hand. Brienne. She’d rekindled something in him that seemed to be waning. Now it was raging perilously out of control. This was as important for him as it was for her, he realised at once. He had to have her, and properly. There could be no half measures in this.


“Tonight I will know everything you are,” he said, as close as he could come to speaking softly as his raging lust would allow. He breathed deeply to keep it back. “I will know all your secrets.”


Everything. He’d know everything. Know her so deeply that she’d never be able to forget, even if she killed him afterwards. Her hands slid around his waist, and her legs suddenly embraced his body in such a way that he shivered. “I will love everything you do,” he promised.


Beneath him, she turned her face away. “Tormund,” she whispered, and her lower body moved so suggestively he had to close his eyes for a second. “Stop talking now. Give it to me. Do it.”


Now he took her chin in his fingers to make her look at him. He wanted her to remember this moment much later on, however it ended up. He wanted to take away any regret she might feel. “Everything, Brienne,” he said, as if it were a warning, staring into her eyes.


She seemed startled, but before she could speak he reached down, guiding himself just as she wanted.


“I saw you, and I wanted you,” Tormund said, and then at last it began as he slid inside of her a little way. Just a little, and he was nearly there, inside that slick heat and pressure. Only the imperative need to hold back kept him from just going deep right then and there. She moaned for him as her eyes darkened still further, and she moved her left hand up to the top of his back in an attempt to pull him closer. Tormund smiled in victory. “Now I possess you.”


She tried to roll them, and she was so strong she almost managed it, but Tormund contained her. He was the stronger, and he gave her a little more of himself to keep her busy, though holding himself back now was an act of self denial that made the primitive part of him angry. “I don't understand,” she murmured, frustrated, her body moving against his, trying to encourage him to go faster. “Possess me?”


“You don't understand...” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. Of course she didn’t. Tormund laughed slowly as she stared up at him, deliberately to goad her. “Look upon your husband, Brienne.”


Now she jolted, as if to fight, the corners of her mouth turning down in indignation. He didn't let her get away. “But I didn't agree to that!” she called out, too loudly, betraying her alarm.


Tormund merely quirked his lips, as if it didn't matter at all. Made certain she saw it. That flash of sudden fury in her meant that she did. “I need no permission. I seek none,” he said, as cruelly as he could bear to say it. “You don't decide, woman. I decide.”


For a long moment she stared at him, her eyes liquid fire, then with her right hand she reached quickly beneath the bedside table and drew out a shiny silver blade. This was the moment, this was her last defence, and she couldn’t have played into his hands better if she had planned to do it. Tormund pressed her wrist to the bed before she could endanger him with that knife, and his heart was jubilant. Almost done. Soon he could let go and have her. Just a little longer! He drew in a deeper breath to calm his raging body.


“Oh, beauty,” he said, as full of love and admiration for her in this moment as he’d ever been. If she could but see it. All she saw now was someone she detested. “You never did trust either of us, not completely, did you?”


He saw her attention break as she looked around for Clegane, staring wildly. “Sandor!” she cried out, but Clegane didn't answer her. She looked back at him in anger and despair, all the trust that had been built up over the preceding days destroyed in one single instant.


“You think I didn't guess?” Tormund asked her then, staring down at those shining eyes, wondering if she would even cry. “You, so fierce, would never surrender so easily.” He nodded. “I respect that. But now I have you. And you still want it, don't you?” He pressed inwards a tiny bit, opening up more of her body to the girth of his cock, and she inhaled sharply. “Tell me,” he urged, a tremor in his voice that betrayed the effort he was expending to keep control. All he wanted was to bury himself in her. “Tell me, and I'll give you everything you want.”


It was an irony about this ritual, that it needn't be so fraught with peril. After all, should Brienne refuse him after this, he wouldn't be taking her prisoner or taking her choices away again. They needn't be married after this night, should she choose not to be in the morning. Tormund was fully prepared to show her exactly what she could expect from him though. After this night, she'd want to keep hold of him, if he did it right.


That inhale came out of her in a quiet moan of desire that she couldn't help, despite her fury. Her eyes flashed up at him, promising death, and yet... “I want you,” she said, her voice low in a strange mixture of hatred and lust. “Gods, I can't help it! Tormund...” It was part demand, part plea, and he responded to her immediately, moving again, excruciatingly slowly.


He didn't withdraw or move back at all, just powered forward until he was fully inside of her, and he could feel her pussy around him, contracting and pulsing all over his cock. She was staring at him, a strange mixture of betrayal and pleasure. As he'd moved in her, she'd dragged that hand down his back, scratching him, and he was snarling at her, could feel it on his face as his lips twisted. Couldn't help it at all. She still had the knife in her hand, and he pressed onward even past the point, just to make her position clear, until she dropped the blade to the floor.


At last. It was done.


“Good girl,” he said, and she narrowed her eyes at him in a baleful glare. Quickly, he rested all of his weight on her while he reached down into his pocket at the side of the bed for the restraints.


“You are strong, and you have claws,” he observed. “But I like slow, at least to begin, so I must restrain you.” She wasn't expecting anything of the kind, so it was easy to slip the loops loosely around her wrists before she even realised what was happening. By the time she understood, he was already securing her bound wrists to the head of the bed, and it was far too late to fight.


“No!” she cried out, and while she busied herself with fruitlessly trying to free her hands, he got his arms under her legs so that she couldn't fight him that way either, and then they were ready to start. He waited for a moment or two, with her struggling beneath him, her legs kicking about helplessly at either side, and then he growled, because he'd waited long enough, and her pussy was squeezing around him in a way that might get her something rather more brutal than he had planned for this first part.


She froze beneath him.


“Are you fighting with me?” he asked outright. “Or fucking?”


“Let me go!” she demanded, and she was in earnest. She was helpless, and moreover, she knew it.


“Beauty,” he scolded, not pandering to her one bit, not being of a mind to. Over days she'd teased him with this, and he'd taken his time to get here, done everything as he should. Enough! “Do you need me to go over this again for you?” he demanded. “Really?”


He stared at her, and saw the moment when she understood that she'd truly lost. She looked about her, and her lips turned down in a scowl, but she didn't appeal to him again. She screamed in frustration while her pussy clutched tightly around him, but she couldn't push him out or away. Her face became flushed as she realised that too, and eventually she gave the quietest sigh of surrender as her body relaxed. There was nothing to be gained from continuing to resist except for more of the same humiliation. There was only one place left to go. Giving in, and he smiled when he felt it happen.


“Good,” he said, “then we begin.”


Tormund didn't waste time – he couldn't. He felt like he'd been teased beyond his endurance. To have her but not, to not be able to relax enough to enjoy the sensations that were coursing through him. Now he did, and he kept it as light and slow as possible to begin, so as to show her, because this wasn't about dominating her at all, despite appearances.


Brienne's lips parted in pleasure in spite of herself, and she gave him little moans of encouragement that he chased, learning little by little what she preferred, what she liked, what she loved the most. He loved everything, so it was no hardship how he did this. She felt tremendous, all but rippling around him as he fucked her so slowly, and she was so snug around him he could feel every trembling of her muscle there. He might have said her name, he wasn't sure, but then she was struggling again, and he had to stop.


“Don't...” she whispered, and then as he stared at her, it seemed she suddenly understood the rules of this new game. She ceased to struggle, looked up at him, eyes wide. “I'm sorry,” she whispered then, and he shook his head. No need to say anything. She couldn't help it. He knew that. But now they could continue, and so he did.


They continued to look into each other's eyes, and he saw her enjoyment of it. She was discovering things about herself, as well as about him, and he saw her wonder at the sensation of it, sharing it all with him in secret smiles and sudden gasps. It was beautiful to watch. But not as beautiful as feeling her respond to him below, how she unconsciously caressed him. He was leaned over her, so close he could feel the thundering of her blood, the rapid tattoo of her heartbeat.


Every now and again she would fight, and they would stop, and every time she would apologise for it, with him praising her for her surrender, until at last she murmured: “I don't want to fight, but I can't help it.” She gazed up at him, displeased with herself for the interruption. “How do I stop?”


Tormund drew in a breath, holding quite still. “Trust me, beauty,” he whispered. “I said I'd give you everything you want. I won't fail you.”


Now he moved again, and she moaned. “Everything,” she repeated. “Yes. That's what I want.” The throbbing inside her became more intense as she followed his guidance and let go of the last of her resistance, her first climax coming quickly after that. He slowed for it – out of necessity, because if he didn't she might take him with her – but then afterwards he began to build it in her again. Beneath him she gave him gasps of delight and pleasure, and in her eyes there was a new, deeper trust.


Not long after that he adjusted their position, to let her legs down, and she embraced him with them just like before, which felt so fantastic he couldn't contain a groan of appreciation, and it also left his hands more freedom to roam over her body as he continued to ravish her.


“Faster now. Deeper,” he warned, and he made sure he saw understanding in her eyes before he did it, then she was with him, her gasps becoming light, breathless moans that made him bite his own lip because she sounded so suggestive. Actually, he tried not to think about how it felt so much at all, because she could very easily end this if he did. His cock was in Heaven or something. Brienne wasn't just the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Now he knew, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever felt around him, and he wanted to get this right for her.


So, he only paid attention enough to tell when she was close enough for him to go deep and hold it while she orgasmed. There was no way at all he could fuck her through it. But he could probably, if he was lucky, press his face against her neck and stay still while her pussy tried to suck him dry, and think about the army of the dead or something equally disturbing to put himself off.


Still, he felt that warm rush around him, and that throb of a pulse, that wasn't a heartbeat but something similar. It was a pulse of life all the same. He let her be for a few seconds, and then he whispered: “You ready to start again?”


“Again...” she breathed, shocked. He moved a little to illustrate, and she almost whimpered. “Tormund!”


“That a yes?”


Brienne seemed beyond words, but she nodded slowly, and Tormund was relieved, because he kind of needed to move at this point now, and he began the same gentle in and out as before, drawing needy little breathy moans from her with each one that slowly escalated into something more. Her pussy was even more slippery now than before, but still a tight fit, and he began to feel the first prickles of sweat break out on his skin.


By the time they'd done this another couple of times, his hair was damp – hers too – clinging to her head in tiny little blonde curls as he stared down at her. She'd opened up quite a bit too, so that now he was going in hard and deep. Her eyes were half closed, and she was giving him harsh little grunts of sound as he fucked her, her body moving in tandem with his, even with her arms bound above her head. He'd known she would have such incredible stamina and endurance as this, but to see it... she was wonderful!


He wondered if she'd gift that to him, that powerful breaking orgasm that he'd seen before in other women sometimes, and knew she might. Her body was building up to something again, and she seemed breathless and out of control, unaware of everything except what they were doing now.


“Oh, you are nearly there, aren't you?” Tormund managed, breathless himself. “You feel it, coming for you. Let it take you, beauty,” he urged, wanting it more than anything. If she gave that to him now, it would seal this forever. “Surrender to me.” He was all but begging her.


He felt it hit, and saw her as she fell apart below him, her legs falling to either side of him onto the bed, and her head falling back as she let go of a long, evocative moan. Quickly, he reached for the restraints while he still had the presence of mind to do it, stilling for a moment while her pussy was all but milking him.


“There it is,” Tormund said, teeth clenched. “Good. Now I set you free again.”


He did set her free, but her wrists fell to the bed as if lifeless, just like the rest of her. At last now he let himself go, and only managed three or four thrusts before he came in her with a cry of victory. Brienne. There wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for her, a danger he wouldn't face. If she but asked, he'd do it proudly. Her pussy didn't give in, and so he pulled away again almost immediately afterwards, turning onto his side and dragging her with him. When they were settled together, he stroked his hand down her back while she came back to herself.


“Tormund...?” she managed at last, after a minute or so. She struggled to sit up, but fell instantly forward, her head in her hands. “What did you do to me?”


He continued to rub her back from the new angle. “It is all right,” he said, reassuring. “It will pass.”


“I feel so weak,” Brienne announced, too exhausted to even be alarmed about it, and she tried to turn, but instead fell back down into Tormund's embrace. He chuckled and enjoyed the sensation of having her in his arms, apparently powerless to escape, at least for now.


“But it feels good, yes?” he asked, and she sighed expansively. He didn't really know how it felt, but he'd heard some attempts at description over the years. She'd be feeling fairly satiated and happy, if he knew anything at all.


“Yes,” she said against his shoulder. “It's good.”


From the corner of his eye, he saw Clegane heading back to the bed. They looked at each other, and Clegane nodded. Tormund nudged her. “Do you have enough left for him?” he asked, and Brienne's eyelashes fluttered.


“Sandor...” she breathed, “where?” Her fingers twitched against his shoulder as Clegane took up position behind her so that she ended up in the middle again, sandwiched between them.


“I'm here,” Clegane said. Tormund watched her face as she understood what was going to happen now. She didn't look away from his eyes as Clegane kissed the back of her neck.


You make me happy that you share yourself with both of us. Never doubt it.


It almost seemed as if she wanted to share this too, and he approved, smiling at her slightly in encouragement, but then she spoke.


“I can't move,” she said, as if it mattered. Clegane shook his head.


“You don't have to.” And the next moment he must have been there, because Tormund saw the way her pupils dilated and heard that little intake of breath. Clegane groaned in pleasure.


“Ah!” She breathed in deep, almost seeming to whimper out, and Clegane wrapped his arms around her waist as he halted.


“Did I hurt you?” Clegane asked, concerned. Brienne stared into Tormund's eyes, sharing every moment with him, her trust in him now deeper than before as she began to understand. To be three meant to be more than just a series of pairs. It meant an increase in intimacy, and she seemed to be willing to go with that without having it explained to her. He already loved her, but this made him believe in her.


“No. It's just...” She almost seemed to cry, and he watched that too, but didn't intervene. She hadn't asked for that. “Too much...” she moaned, helpless.


“Too much,” Clegane repeated, but her body must feel amazing, and it was clear he could not resist it. He suddenly pulled back and drove in again hard. Again, she shared it with him, and he sighed as he watched, completely enchanted by her, satisfied by her even in this. At that, he saw her smile.


“Good...” Brienne moaned, at last closing her eyes.


“I'll be quick,” Clegane promised, with another kiss to her shoulder, and he was, but he was hard on her – and rough. Tormund merely watched, fascinated by the way her body almost jerked around on the end of Clegane's cock like a rag doll.


When he was done, Clegane gentled, a little too late. He rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hands for a second. Tormund helped Brienne get comfortable, stealing a quick, chaste kiss from her. By the time Clegane sneaked a look between his fingers, Brienne was laid on her back, smiling at him.


Clegane lowered his hands, and rested beside her, looking into her eyes. Tormund lay on her other side, hand stroking gently down her body, to soothe her now it was all over. She drew in a breath.


“How does it feel?” Clegane asked her, innately curious. He seemed to have a bewildering tendency to have her describe things for him. Brienne blinked.


“Like I have everything I ever wanted, and then some more,” she said, her voice dreamy. Tormund felt himself expand a little with pride. Not only was the job done, it was done well. “It feels like flying, even now,” she said on a sigh. “It feels as if you might kill me and I would die happy.” She paused for a beat and gave Clegane an odd look. “It's a strange feeling.”


Clegane grinned a little, while Tormund smirked. “Yeah. Same,” Clegane said. Tormund doubted it. Women were capable of more pleasure than men; he knew it for a fact. He placed one large hand over her breast, squeezing a little. Brienne laughed, and he could feel her body shake through that touch. Then she frowned.


“I have to get up,” she said, then just kind of flopped onto her side instead, facing away from him. Tormund shook his head, having his hand dislodged from her breast to her waist.


“Where will you go, woman?” he teased, happy at last. “Your lovers are here with you.”


“Yes,” she said. “Parts of you are still in me. I need to be clean before I relax, fall asleep, or do something embarrassing, like swoon.”


Clegane laughed out loud. “Only maidens swoon,” he remarked. Tormund smirked again. Brienne was certainly not that now. They'd made sure of it between them both.


“Yes. Thank you for that, too,” Brienne said in disapproval. She attempted to sit up, and again fell forward, just like before, catching her head in her hands. “Oh, Gods,” she sighed. It was as if she were a rag doll again. “One minute,” she said, her voice a little faint, more to herself than to them.


She breathed in and out in an exaggerated fashion for a while longer than that, then somehow managed to clamber over Clegane to the side of the bed. “Sandor?” she said. “Could you bring me a chair?”


Clegane did so, and she managed to sort herself out behind the curtain while they waited, using the chair to keep herself steady, then she climbed back into bed between them and got all snuggly again. This time, she cuddled up against his chest, while Clegane moved behind her, one hand on her hip.


Now that it was all over, certain things needed to be made clear. Or at least, one thing in particular. Tormund sighed and looked at her. “You will bring no more knives to bed, woman. You need no protection from us.”


Between them, she flounced a little bit, and she flashed a fiery look at him. “Fine. Well, let's have no more restraints then,” she snapped back. Tormund smiled slowly.


“Didn't you like them?” he asked, already knowing the truth. He'd felt the way she'd responded, after all. He had a fairly good idea.


“No!” Her denial was too forced and too vehement. Tormund grinned wickedly at her while Clegane suddenly laughed out loud.


“You keep laughing,” she said to Clegane, without breaking her gaze with Tormund, “and I'll try them out on you.”


“Do you promise?” Clegane murmured into her ear, and she groaned as if he'd made a bad joke. Tormund smirked.


“I knew you wanted it that way,” she said, as if confirming a suspicion. “Well, maybe if you're very good I will do it.” She yawned, and stretched, as confident as ever, and before more than a moment or two had passed she was asleep. Clegane blinked, astonished. Tormund shrugged, careless, and pulled her close into his chest with a happy rumble.


“Woman is tired. Beat us to it.”


Clegane doused the lamps and they were soon all resting. When she woke up, she would remember that he belonged to her, that she belonged to him, that they were married, and he thought she would be happy about it. Tormund was smiling as he fell asleep. It didn't take him long at all. He also slept easier than he had in the better part of a week.



Author's Note: And there you have it! Thank you for reading. I hope that you enjoyed it. Please feed your author :)

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