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We're All Going to Die	By : pip Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 12196 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones and I make no money from this work of fanfiction.

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Chapter Twenty

Brienne was moaning again. She'd definitely found her voice over the past hour or two, but words? Well, she seemed to have lost a whole host of them. Clegane fingered her slowly, down the bottom of the bed, watching as that finger slid in, and slid out, nice and gentle, again and again. Turned out Tyrion had been right about the addition of oil at least. It made everything much easier.

When he'd begun teasing her this way, she'd twisted and wriggled until he'd laid a heavy hand on her stomach to keep her still. He didn't want her restless, but still and accepting, because he intended to keep it going for some time. Now she'd become accustomed to it, to him, and she only occasionally lifted her hips or moved her legs when she couldn't help it, when she was close to climax. He had her right where he wanted her.

While he played with her below, Tormund was kissing her slowly, so deep, so that now she was making little muffled noises of pleasure instead of proper moans. She had her arms around him. Her mouth was full, her pussy too. She'd need to get used to it with the two of them around. They'd be able to share her that way pretty quick, taking her from both ends. Just the thought of it made his dick give an eager little leap of attention, and he hissed his breath in, watched his finger. In... out... It was making a nice kind of wet sound. Or was that Tormund's kiss?

Again she made that quiet, muted cry, and he watched her throat, the way it worked just as she was being worked by the two of them. He pushed her leg upwards into her body until her knee was pressed into her chest, then kissed the sole of her foot. She sobbed quietly, and he let her leg back down. She'd gone beyond being ticklish. That was good.

At last, Tormund released her lips, moving onto her ear with his tongue. Perhaps he had some kind of magic about him, or perhaps it was because she was so far gone, but his tongue there didn't put her off. She shivered and her pussy quivered nicely around his finger. He brushed his thumb over her clitoris in response. A kind of reward.

“Ohh...” she moaned. “Please!”

She was hot inside and slippery. He'd made sure to work the oil in deep. As deep as he could get with his finger. He thought she had one or two more in her before it was time.

“I won't fuck you tonight, beauty,” Tormund murmured into her ear, and she turned her head away from his tormenting.

“Then let me touch you,” she said, almost wheedling, her hand on his chest, fingers flexing in the hair there, as if asking for permission to move down.

Tormund smiled at her as she turned back to face him. She couldn't keep still, and they both knew why. All the time, Clegane kept it going. Slow in and out. The tempo of her breathing was increasing, and her face was flushed as her lower body began to move to the same pace as his touch, despite his heavy restraining hand. She shook her head, resisting it despite herself. By Clegane's reckoning, this was number three.

“Ah,” Tormund said, noting that, and Clegane was sure he saw something wicked in the wildling's eyes just then. “Time for a lesson, Brienne. I'll let you touch me all you want, if you do something naughty for me.”

Brienne suddenly opened her eyes wide, bit her lip. “What is it?”

“I want to watch you.” He covered her breasts lightly with his large hands, too lightly to be a caress, and moved them until his fingertips were on her nipples. “Touch yourself here. If you do that, you can touch me after.”

Her reply was a shocked gasp as her mouth dropped open, and then she swallowed. “Touch myself?” At first Clegane was certain she was going to refuse, but then she frowned. “You...” she said, uncertain. “You want to see that?” She asked in a kind of disbelief. Tormund nodded. She bit her lip again, then sighed quickly.

As he moved his hands, she replaced them with hers, but then seemed quite uncertain. “I don't know what to do!” she said.

“Mmm,” Tormund rumbled. “Just please yourself, beauty.”

Brienne seemed even more lost at that. “But I don't know how. I mean, I've never...” She fell quiet, and looked down at her own breasts, brushing the fingers of one hand experimentally over a nipple. She sighed. “I don't get it,” she said, dissatisfied, turning her head to appeal to Tormund for help.

Belatedly, Clegane realised he'd stopped what he was doing to pay attention to what was happening there, and he looked down again, beginning the slow, gentle teasing once more. Above him, Brienne moaned.

“Imagine a game,” Tormund said to her, thumb and forefinger holding her chin. “The rules are: even if you pretend, you touch yourself so that I want to touch you instead, and you win.” He grinned. “Then you get whatever you want.”

She suddenly smiled as if she'd already won. “Oh, well, that's easy,” she breathed, and she turned her attention back to herself, only this time she didn't falter. She squeezed her breasts in those hands and pressed them together with a deliberate moan, as if offering them up. She'd created a perfect welcoming little crease of flesh between her breasts, and it was impossible for Clegane not to imagine sliding his dick right in there.

“Fuck,” he whispered, watching, making sure this time not to neglect his task.

Meanwhile, Tormund had settled to watch, hand on his own cock, stroking himself leisurely. Brienne didn't notice. She had her eyes closed now as she rolled her own nipples in her fingers, her chest heaving. Her moans were not feigned now, and Clegane looked down, so that he could help her along, using his thumb on her clitoris as he continued the slow, easy penetration. He could feel it building in her, that heat, as her pussy began to spasm around him.

“Touch me...” she said, almost begging, as if surprised by the force of it. “Oh, Gods!” And then it was there, and Clegane slowed his touch as he helped her ride it out, caught Tormund's eye. The wildling winked at him, and he grinned as he withdrew his finger. Brienne gasped and then opened her eyes, hazy with satisfaction.

“Weren't there rules?” Brienne was saying, her voice much softer now as she stared at Tormund.

The wildling smiled at her. “Woman. I am a wildling,” he said in explanation. “We don't even follow our own rules.”

She laughed. “Good lesson,” she remarked, as Clegane came back up the bed on her other side. At last, she noticed Tormund touching himself, and she couldn't seem to look away.

“You like to watch too?” Tormund asked. “Or do you still want to touch?”

Clegane draped his arm around her waist as she smiled at Tormund and licked her lips. “Your turn, remember?” she said, and Tormund's eyes widened in pleased surprise.

“Oh, woman,” he groaned. “You want to? Now?”

“Mmm... practice.” She stretched in their arms, raising her hands high above her head as Tormund drew closer to her, kissing her on the lips once, then again, and again.

“I'll make you happy, Brienne,” the wildling said between kisses. “That's a promise.”

She only sighed and moved her hands back down to push at his shoulders, demanding. “Up,” she said, and he moved up the bed until he was half sat up at the head of it, and she went to her task almost immediately. Only a minute or so later she broke away and sighed, flopping back down onto the pillows.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm just still so.. ugh..” She suddenly moved all of her limbs, as if that might wake her up a bit, but then relaxed again.

“It is all right,” Tormund said. “If you still want to, we can always try a different way.”

“How?”

“I could do some of the work,” he suggested, crafty, and she nodded, allowing him to cup the back of her head and guide her back to him. He took her hand and laid it on his thigh. “If you need to stop, you tell me, beauty. You squeeze me here, yes?”

She nodded, opening her mouth wide for him to feed himself in. And as Clegane watched Tormund was doing it. Gently, it had to be said, but she was letting him almost fuck her mouth. Making little noises of encouragement too! That hand laying flat and relaxed on his thigh like this happened to her every bloody day.

“Mmm...” Tormund almost growled his desire, but he was never rough with her. Not once. And he was slow enough to make it easy for her, almost completely withdrawing at times to allow her to breathe. It was a hell of a lesson, and he wondered if Brienne recognised it for what it was.

It didn't take the wildling long to come, and to be fair, Clegane couldn't blame him, just the idea of having her mouth to use like that was making his stomach leap and twitch about. He came in her mouth, and he saw her throat working as she swallowed it, finally squeezing Tormund's thigh and drawing back, only for the last bit of it to hit her lips and chin in a opalescent string. She immediately scooped it up with her finger and then sucked it away, as if she been a messy eater, looking at Tormund with wide eyes. He groaned.

“And now it's your turn,” Tormund said. She seemed perplexed for a moment, then she swallowed, twisting her head around to look at him in a kind of alarm.

“Now?” she said, and he nodded.

“You want a glass of water before we start?” he asked her, and she nodded silently. Tormund got it for her, since he was on that side of the bed, and she sat up between them to drink it, knees drawn up to her chest as they settled on either side of her, studying her. Tormund reached out and stroked a forefinger down the side of her body to her waist.

She drank until it was all gone, and then sighed, handing the cup back to Tormund. Between them they got her to lie back down, and they played with her for a short while until she was in that space again. It was easy to take her there, she hadn't got that far away from it in these last few moments. He touched her again, penetrating her with a single finger and it had to be now. She moaned for him, softly, and her pussy relaxed and opened for his touch so sweetly.

“Brienne,” he said, to get her attention, and she turned those dark, clouded eyes on him. His heart thudded heavily. She was so stunning like this, writhing between them, pleasure on every side. No wonder she seemed lost. Clean sweat on her skin, and he paused to lick a drop of it from her breast as she gasped.

He moved to cover her body with his. That she understood, and she let her legs fall wide open with a moan of sheer need. “Yes...” she hissed, and he slid his left hand under her waist, remembering how she'd attempted to escape him that first time. He hooked that hand around her opposite shoulder and rested his weight on that forearm, pressing it deep into the mattress. She wouldn't get away from him now.

With his right hand, he guided himself, his cock slippery with the same oil, but it was easy enough to find her, and he paused. Looked down at her face.

“Do it,” she urged, shivering a little, her hands on his shoulders, and he nodded.

“All right. Here it comes.” And he pressed inwards, feeling that impossible stretch again, only this time it seemed to last longer, because of the oil and the way he'd worked on her for so long beforehand with his finger. She was relaxed. But eventually it had to go, and he gritted his teeth as he powered through it, as slowly as his body would let him, feeling an instant of intense heat that must be blood before he was getting somewhere. Her hands moved down to his biceps and tried to push him away, grasping painfully, short nails digging in.

She screamed. It wasn't a high pitched scream either, but a low roar of real pain, and he tried not to hear it as he hurried to move his right hand back up, covering her mouth as her body jerked beneath his instinctively, trying to escape. He'd got her in an impossible hold, though, and there was nothing she could do. He didn't move any further, which was a little bit like torture, since the head of his cock was in her but that was about it. He shuddered as he tried to keep himself under control, and she quietened behind his hand. He moved his palm.

“Oh, Gods!” she said. “That hurts!” There were tears sparkling in her eyes in the muted light, and all the dreamy lust she'd displayed was gone, shocked right out of her. He shuddered again.

“I've got to move,” he growled, sounding angry, and she nodded.

“I know. Do it.”

He covered her mouth again, and let himself go further, thrusting himself deeper into her, and now he could actually feel it. Rather than just the tightness at her entrance, he could feel her heat around him, and the wonderful texture of her. Though she was almost unbearably tight, the oil made it easier on him, forgiving, and he went deep as he dared in one movement before stopping again. The oil created friction despite her resistance, and he had to stop himself from instinctively pulling back to go again, to get more, to go further. He caught his breath, eyes closed.

“Brienne,” he groaned, and moved his hand. She wasn't screaming now, but she sobbed, and those tears had fallen when he opened his eyes, wet on her temples. “I'm sorry,” he said, but he really didn't mean it at all.

She managed to smile at him a little. “It's all right,” she said, her voice shaky, and he could feel it when she began to relax around him, that muscle, instead of being clamped on him suddenly seemed to be squeezing around his cock pleasurably in a thousand places all at once, as if checking him out. He moaned, and again he had to resist the maddening urge to just fuck her into the bed without any further thought.

“It doesn't hurt when you don't move,” she said. “And it wasn't as bad as I was afraid of. But it was bad.” She shivered, and he felt it, that shiver. He ran his free hand down the length of her body in a soothing motion. Again, he felt her pussy contract around him like that, and this time she must have felt it too, now the pain was retreating, because her eyes widened.

“Oh!” she said, and swallowed. “Oh, Gods! I can feel you!” She stared into space, and then he felt her test him consciously, and he let out his breath in a half laugh. It felt amazing.

“I should hope so,” he managed, dropping a kiss onto her lips, so easy to reach.

“You feel so...” she gulped, “oh, you feel... I can't describe it,” she said,

“Have I taken all of you?” she asked. “I mean, is it done? All the way?” She was biting her lip, constantly squeezing around him now, as if she was trying to estimate it for herself without looking. He shook his head.

“You want it all?”

She drew in a deep breath to steady herself, and nodded.

“All right. Then I'll have to pull back, and go in again,” he explained.

“Why?” she asked, then shook her head. “No, wait, it doesn't matter. I trust you. Just do it.”

He kissed her forehead, and then went for it, pulling out just far enough to get the leverage, before going in again as hard as he dared. Beneath him she whimpered in pain, hands squeezing his muscles again, crying out but not screaming at least. But now he was mostly in her, and he stopped.

“It still hurts?” he asked, and she swallowed, her body shaking.

“Not as much,” she said, but the look on her face said it was still quite a lot. “I think it's more sore than anything. It's bad enough that when it's there it's kind of putting me off feeling anything else.”

He waited, and as her face cleared, she relaxed around him again, those tentative little pulses of sensation returning. She felt divine around him, touching him everywhere all at once. He whispered her name, and felt her respond to his voice. She was so fucking perfect. “And now?” he asked, watching her face as her eyes closed and her mouth relaxed, lower lip almost trembling in awareness.

“Oh, Sandor,” she moaned, in pleasure now, for certain. And that was enough.

She wanted more, asked for it, and as he fucked her, she fell into a strange kind of moan, which was half pain at the beginning, but ended on pleasure. He was careful not to be rough with her, but he felt as though all the long days of fooling around with her had finally come together to this. She brought her legs up close to him, and embraced him with them. It felt fucking fantastic, and instead of digging her nails in, she held him close, hands in his hair so that she could brush her lips against his face. So soft. In short, she welcomed him with her whole body, and it was a thing of beauty, just like Brienne herself.

He'd become all wound up, and he knew that now, because he felt it as that coiling up added to all the rest, and when he came in her, he couldn't remember a time when he'd felt more satisfied with himself. To finally have marked her out as his. Perhaps he had been wanting this since the moment they met, just like Tormund said.

When he pulled away, he felt incredibly empty and hollowed out, but she followed him, curling up against his chest all bloody warm and cuddly. Brienne of fucking Tarth. Cuddly! He huffed out his breath in disbelief at such a thing. She hadn't come herself, he knew that, but he hardly expected it when it had hurt her like that. If he knew the first thing about her, it was that she would have downplayed just how much it hurt. He kissed her hair, and nuzzled her there.

“Well done, Brienne. It's over with now.” He wasn't unaware of the gift she had given him, and yet he felt such a strong surge of protective affection for her just then that it caught him by surprise. He deliberately relaxed. She was with him, in his arms.

Tormund, who had watched everything as it transpired, came to rest alongside her back, spooning up against her, and she sighed happily. She reached behind her for the wildling's hand and dragged it around her waist, keeping it there.

“I like being in the middle,” she announced, and Tormund chuckled.

There was a good chance he'd be asleep in about two minutes, since he was finally feeling the effects of not having slept at all the night before. Now that it was all done, he was done. He yawned. “Is it how you thought?” he asked idly, still stroking her hair.

“I thought I'd be married,” she said dryly. “So, no.”

“If we survive this war, I'll make an honest woman of you, Brienne. In the eyes of the seven.” If they survived. That wasn't going to happen. Didn't mean they couldn't dream. He meant it though: he'd be happy with no other woman now.

“Will you? Really?” She sighed, and patted his chest. “Well now I really do have to kill them all.” She laughed tiredly, and he did too. He shared a glance with Tormund, and the wildling was staring at him. Whatever it was, he was too tired to make sense of it, and he drifted off easily with Brienne snuggled up against him.

To be continued...

Author's Note: And there you have it. I hope you had fun! Tormund will be up next, after a bit of messing around. Please leave a word or two for the muses – they did work particularly hard in that chapter. :) Review responses will be here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/61848-pippychicks-review-replies-tv/
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