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. |
Author's Note: Just so you're aware (if you weren't already), here is where the DP tag comes into play. Also, it's an extremely long chapter, standing around just shy of eight thousand words, but there was no way I could split it up.
Also, pity my poor brain, since it wasn't until I started writing that I realised Brienne doesn't think in terms of 'cock' so that's an extra challenge for this scene: writing double penetration without using the word 'cock' or 'cunt' or any of those other useful nouns. I hope I managed it without coming across as too convoluted.
Please enjoy!
Chapter Thirty-two
Though it wasn't sexual, something about what they were doing was not entirely innocent, and Brienne found her fingers sliding against Sandor's more than once as they worked on Tormund's body together. Having him lie still while she indulged herself in touching him this way, with Sandor alongside her, it felt very intimate, and they shared so many heated glances over the course of the next half hour or so that the ache in her was a constant, nagging need by the time it was all done. She longed for one of them to take her, and only the knowledge that they would soon be there stopped her from just asking for it, outright.
Once they were finished, and they lifted their hands away from Tormund, his body was warm and heavy beneath them. Brienne had felt the tension ease out of him as they'd worked, especially on his shoulders. Now he was so relaxed, more deeply than she'd ever seen or felt him, even while he was sleeping beside her in the night. She shared another of those secret looks with Sandor, leaning across to kiss him.
He took hold her shoulders to pull her close over Tormund's body, his warm palms still slippery with the oil, and it made her quiver in awareness. He seemed more dominant than usual, not pausing to let her play as he usually did, and some moments later she moaned into his mouth without meaning to.
Before she could get too carried away, she drew back. That ache in her was still there, begging to satisfied, and if she wasn't careful, she let Sandor have his way before she could do what she wanted to do to Tormund.
“How does that feel?” she asked quietly, laying a hand on his back, and Tormund let go of a deep sound that vibrated through that simple touch. Brienne felt the smile on her face, and she remembered how good it felt before, when they'd done it to her. She'd thought at the time it was the best she'd ever felt, only they'd gone on to show her so much more. Just as she would go on.
She leaned down, so the length of her body was pressed against his back, her lips near his ear. “Now tell me how to do it to you,” she said then, in a lustful whisper, needing his guidance. That warm fluttering in the pit of her stomach picked up some pace, because this too was something new. It was about more than doing to him what he'd done to her. It was another way to give pleasure at the same time as taking it. Before she'd given herself to them, she'd convinced herself women didn't feel pleasure like men, and in a secret place in her heart she knew that for most women, that was still true. She knew she was lucky, even if she'd had to wait her whole life to find them, even though they only had a matter of weeks or days left to know and to love each other. Most women would go their whole lives without knowing the kind of pleasure they'd shown her in these final days.
“All right,” he said, his voice as hushed as hers. “Use the oil. You know what to do. One finger at first, but your fingers are more slender than mine. You'll be able to add another soon.”
She moved back up to her knees and nodded, then saw he still had his eyes closed, though his head was turned on the pillows. “Yes,” she said, so that he would hear it, and turned to Sandor, who held out the bottle of oil for her. She took it, and they shared another of those secret, molten looks. He didn't stop staring, paying close attention to everything she did, and then she knew.
“You are curious,” she said in surprise, noting it, and he narrowed his eyes, looking put out. Tormund laughed, and it sounded as if he was coming back to himself a little.
“I knew it,” Tormund said, and then he raised himself to his hands and knees with a deep groan of lazy fulfilment.
Quickly, Brienne opened the bottle and got a lot of it on the fingers of her right hand. Tormund already seemed aware of her next question before she could ask.
“It's not very deep inside me,” he said. “The length of a finger at most, but it will be easier to find if I am on my knees like this. Feel for it, towards the front of my body. You'll know when you find it.” He drew in a breath and let it out with a shiver. “Be gentle with it, with me.”
“I'll be gentle, Tormund,” she promised at once, moved by his entreaty, even though she wasn't absolutely sure she knew how to be. But she did understand exactly how this felt, and so while she was nervous, she did not fear because she was so careful with him, and she used one hand to hold him open while she rubbed at that entrance with her index finger. When she pressed inside, it was only a little way, a very little way, and she let herself notice the way his body told her when he was ready for more, how he relaxed around her touch.
As he had said, once that initial ring of resistance was breached and tamed, it wasn't long before she could add a second finger, and then bit by bit she eased those fingers deeper until she felt it. Ah, just there! A difference in his internal wall, smooth and much larger than she had imagined, since she had thought it would be a tiny, hard little nub, as it was on her, but it wasn't. Very tenderly, she touched it, feeling it give way to the pressure of her fingers, and Tormund drew in a sudden breath.
“Easy,” she said, hoping she was getting it right, and then began to move her fingers back and forth over him just there, experimentally, keeping up that slight pressure, and Tormund moaned loudly. “How do you like it?” she wanted to know. “How should I touch you here?”
“It's good,” Tormund managed, then moaned again, “what you are doing.” Brienne felt a sudden warm surge of joy at her success, and she bit her lip as she watched her fingers move slightly in and out, shiny with the oil.
For all that he had said, and for all of Sandor's teasing, he didn't sound like a woman. He still sounded like a man. But really, seeing him respond this way to her touch was making her own body heat up still further, and she shifted her knees where she was knelt up on the bed, squirming a little, because she could feel that she was getting slippery with need for one of them to take her. And soon. She couldn't spare a glance for Sandor, but he was still watching everything she did, and she couldn't help imagining what it might be like if he moved behind her right now and just pulled her hips back and did it to her. Her lips parted as she breathed out, longing for it to happen, almost a moan.
“I'm going to kiss him,” Sandor announced suddenly, surprising her from her fantasy, and Brienne bit her lip as he went to the top of the bed, turning Tormund's head towards his. She watched for a moment as they did it. Tormund didn't move his hands from the mattress, but he participated. Seeing the two of them together like that, perhaps it should bother her, but it didn't. In fact, it made her feel quite the reverse. She enjoyed it, seeing them kiss each other, seeing them torment each other in these little ways. It made all of this between them seem right, somehow.
At last, Sandor pulled away slightly, and she could see their lips, mere inches away from each other. They must be breathing the same air. Tormund actually whimpered a little as he lowered his head. His hair was damp with sweat, and his body was beginning to tremble constantly.
She shivered, feeling like a voyeur. “What about a little faster?” she queried, and she did it, just as she said it, feeling a surge of power when Tormund's upper body collapsed onto the bed and he groaned. She knew how that felt too. That she could have such an effect on him made her feel as if he was doing something to her, and so she kept it up, greedy for more of his responses.
Her free hand flexed unconsciously and drew her attention. At first she had the most terrible, naughty thought of touching herself. She knew where that place was, after all, and how her own need would ease if she did it. The thought of it made a blush come to her cheeks, and she shot a guilty look at Sandor. He narrowed his eyes and drew in a breath as if to ask, but she shook her head. She knew what to do with her hand, and so she reached below Tormund and wrapped her fingers around him. His response was remarkable.
“Brienne!” His breathing was suddenly loud and frantic in the hushed atmosphere that had descended between them all. “Ahh... don't!”
She halted, uncertain. But he was hard in her hand, clearly desperate for her touch. “Don't you like it?” She'd stilled with the internal caress too, afraid that she had done something truly awful. Tormund was still breathing heavily. He felt hot and she could see the sweat on his back now, adding to the sheen of oil she and Sandor had left upon his skin.
“Like it?” he echoed. “Woman, I like it so much you'll make me come, and hard.” He shivered deep. “How long you want to wait for me to fuck you?” he asked, his voice rough. Then she understood, and she suddenly relaxed, beyond relieved. But it was a considerate warning too, and she slowly withdrew her fingers, letting him loose.
“I want you,” she said, somewhat apologetic, in case she had disappointed him. “And I don't want to wait.” She stole a glance at Sandor. “I want both of you, and I can't help it.”
With those words, it was as if she had reversed something about the whole atmosphere, and she felt a flash of that prior nervousness as Tormund turned himself over on the bed. Suddenly he didn't seem submissive or accepting, but dangerous all over again. And yet, his hair was darker, clinging to his forehead with sweat, and his face was flushed. Dangerous he may be, but after the things she'd done to him he looked irresistible, and she felt her body actually pulse with need to feel him inside her. She immediately made to straddle him, only for him to hold her off with a slight laugh, turning her over onto her back with the help of Sandor. Brienne sighed and pouted between them as they held her still.
“Give me what I want,” she demanded, staring first at Tormund, then at Sandor. “Please!” she added, just in case that would help.
“We'll give you what you want,” Tormund said right back at her. “Tonight, you will take us both, if you're willing.” He stared at her, still all delicious as she slowly nodded. She knew what he meant, but she thought that she'd agree to anything if only he'd ease her a little. Just a little, right now. He smiled down at her, having gained her acceptance, and she wondered if he knew she'd do anything at all to see him smile like that too. He was impossible.
“But you'll help me, won't you?” she asked, aware that she'd given consent, prepared to carry it through, and now it came to it, just a little afraid. But the fear didn't stop her from wanting it anyway. He wouldn't hurt her, somehow she knew it. Tormund reached out and traced the shape of her lips with his thumb.
“Don't I always, beauty?” he chastised gently, and she nodded. “Mmm...” he deliberated. “You've given me a lot of pleasure. I think you should use your mouth on him while I get to work on you.”
Just the suggestion, and she wanted it, turning her gaze to Sandor instantly as Tormund moved down the bed. She glanced down his body and saw him touching himself, licked her lips. “Move,” she said automatically, and he did, bringing himself nearer to her, to be kissed and licked and sucked, turned onto his side, his hip near her shoulder.
First she handled him, because she liked the feel of his hardness in her hand. He had a shape that felt good against her palm, that she felt respond as she wrapped her fingers around him, already opening her mouth as he moved closer. He said her name like it was a prayer, and she rewarded him with a long lick of her tongue.
At the bottom half of the bed, Tormund was encouraging her to spread her legs wide, bent hard at the knee, and she let him arrange her how he wanted, anticipating his touch keenly, until he was leaning against one of her bent legs, and holding the other out of the way. Meanwhile she was moving her hands over Sandor, getting the head of him all wet with her spit and letting him in a little to her mouth so that she could drag her tongue all over him there. It was true that she liked the taste of him then. It was addictive, slightly salty without being bitter, and he groaned quietly as his hand caressed her cheek. It made her feel powerful, to hear him respond, just like Tormund had. Perhaps she was getting better at this. The thought made her smile as she looked up, and Sandor narrowed his eyes in lust.
After that she tried very hard to remember what she was doing, and she let her eyes drift shut as she let Sandor in. Every time, it came as a surprise how large they were for her mouth, and it was slightly uncomfortable, but she persevered. She had her eyes closed but she heard the pop of the oil as Tormund opened it, and then a few seconds later, one finger rubbing over the entrance at the back of her. She broke off her attention to Sandor to sigh loudly.
“Oh, touch me, Tormund,” she said, displeased and frustrated. “You know where!” She drew in a sharp breath, because just saying it made something in her jolt, aware of how close he was to doing just that, and she tried to move her body to make him, but only then realised he'd got her so that she couldn't really move. She could only rest, wide open, for him to touch her wherever he wanted, and he did. He didn't respond to her words at all, and just continued where he was until she relaxed deliberately to let him in and have done with it, hoping he would move on quickly. She needed his touch!
She might have said more, but Sandor was pressing himself against her lips and she let him in again, this time deeper, sealing her lips around him and sucking lightly while she used her hands to make it better. One of his hands was on her head, resting gently there, while the other... she made a muffled sound of shock as he rolled one of her nipples in between his fingers, losing her concentration. Once lost, it was hard to get back, between Sandor's teasing of her nipple, and Tormund's easy in and out down below. Tormund added another finger, and she moved her head back as she began to pant.
With one finger, it was easy enough, with two, it was like teasing, because she could feel herself so full at the back, and it made her realise how empty she was at the front. Brienne tensed and relaxed without meaning to, over and over, because she could almost feel it, and she heard Tormund chuckle.
“Very good,” he said, praising her. “I'll give you more, if you want.”
“Yes! More!” she said. Sandor had moved his hand from her head, and was holding himself at her lips, almost painting them with it. “Please!”
As if she were being commanded, she took Sandor in her mouth again, and opened her eyes to look up at his face, feeling his fingers still teasing her tenderly. That feeling was travelling down her body, or so it seemed, making her hot, making her want it, and then at last she felt Tormund's other hand. Well, one of his fingers at any rate, slippery with the oil again, although she was so wet herself that finger slid right in deep. Brienne moaned around Sandor. At last!
It seemed even easier to take than before, even when he slid his fingers about inside her like that, against each other, and she tried her best to concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing. So much so that it took a moment for her to realise he'd slipped another finger into her at the front, so there were two each now, front and back.
At last she gave up, and turned away onto her back as Tormund touched her like that. It was different to before, felt different, as if he were pushing at her in odd non-sexual places, testing her limits and it felt slightly uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Yet there was too much sensation to think about anything else, and it seemed like what she had wanted, so why wasn't it satisfying her? Even though she felt full to the point of near pain, and it was slippery and easy, she was still desperately longing for something, and she let go of a long moan as Sandor moved back down the bed and began to torment her other breast with his mouth, her hands getting all tangled in his hair.
She tried to raise herself up a little so that she could see, but Tormund was resting at a strange angle on her lower body so as to keep her legs from moving, and all she could see was his shoulder. She dropped back down onto the pillows and groaned, writhing as much as she could until Tormund chuckled again.
“Don't laugh,” she complained bitterly, frustrated beyond words as he toyed with her, as they both did. “It's not fair or funny,” she snapped. “Give me something, please!”
He seemed to consider it for a long moment, while she tried to contort her body so that it was working better for her. She didn't manage it. “How is your stamina?” he asked. “I could let you have one now, but you'll need to have enough left to stay with us later. Do you think you can do that?”
Didn't he know she'd say anything, agree to anything? Brienne moaned. “I will, I promise! Tormund...” She'd tightened her hands in Sandor's hair to the point that he pulled away with a little laugh of his own, laying himself down beside her, apparently content to look into her eyes as he held her hands to the bed, fingers threaded through hers.
Tormund adjusted something about where he was pressing inside of her, and that full feeling was suddenly fantastic. All at once, it was like he was touching her in all the right places, so that she would have bucked up if he wasn't holding her down with his weight.
“Ah!” she cried out, over and over, because it was wonderful! Now at last she felt herself opening up. It wasn't relaxing. It felt as though her body was deliberately making room for him to touch her that way, more, again, and again. Yes. Everywhere. Sandor smiled as he watched, and she closed her eyes.
“Everywhere,” she moaned, out loud, almost unaware of it. And then it was everywhere, because Tormund lowered his head and she felt the heat of his breath on her clitoris before she felt the tip of his tongue. When she felt his tongue she moaned loud, and long. Her body moved, or at least tried to, back and forth, as if they were already taking her. It was completely beyond her control.
She felt the heat, and her body went from opening up to closing around his fingers hard, over and over again. It felt amazing, just his fingers, and she was crying out, orgasming around those thick, hard digits until it was done and she lay back, gasping. Tormund raised his head, and after a few moments of stillness, she felt him begin to move his fingers again, the way he had at first, and she grunted a response, but it wasn't quite as uncomfortable now.
At that, Tormund slowly withdrew from her, only to go back in with more oil. This time he didn't press upon her, though, only slid them deep before withdrawing again.
“I think you are ready, woman,” he announced, and Brienne hardly even knew what it meant any more. What she understood was that he finally set her free. They both did, and she curled up onto her side with a wanton moan, wondering how to make them take her. She recalled her thought when they'd first returned to her room about choosing who she would have first, and had to stifle a giggle at herself. They were never that easy.
They were discussing something without her, she could hear them, but couldn't even be bothered to listen. It didn't seem to take long anyway, because then Tormund was pulling at her hips to get her to move across the bed.
“Now it is time,” he said, but instead of doing what he wanted, she turned to face him, needing something else, more. She looked into his eyes, and as always he seemed to know. “Oh, beauty,” he said, and he gathered her close into his embrace.
Brienne smiled, feeling warm and loved in his arms, on their knees before each other, and then he kissed her, properly, overpowering as always. His tongue was deep in her mouth as she buried her hands in his hair, trying not to let it overcome her. His palms were roving over her back, and his touch was electric, setting off sparks all over her body wherever his hands passed. It was as if he knew just how to touch her, just how to kiss her, as if he knew everything, and she let go of needing to stay in control. It was all right. She was with Tormund.
When he drew back, she just breathed, eyes closed and lips parted for a moment. “Husband,” she whispered, remembering all over again. Lost in him, nothing else existed.
“Yes, and what will you do for me, beauty?” he asked. She breathed in deep, and then sighed, happy.
“Anything.”
She startled herself with that unthinking response, and blinked her eyes open, only to find him staring at her. He smiled. “Everything I want you to do will give you pleasure. Do you trust me?”
Now she remembered what it was that he wanted from her, and she swallowed, but nodded. She'd agreed to it, hadn't she? And so she couldn't renege on that. But she did trust him, completely, and she couldn't even explain to herself precisely why. She let him turn her around, and then she saw Sandor laid out on his back. He was awaiting her, one hand on his hardness that glistened with yet more oil.
“Take him inside you,” Tormund whispered, slightly wicked, “just like you did before.”
He let her go, and she didn't need any further bidding. She moved astride him, looking down upon him as she shivered in anticipation, then she sank down onto him as he held himself steady for her. All that oil, it was so easy, so deep straight away, and she groaned at the sensation of finally being filled like this, by one of them. But this wasn't like before, because Sandor was free, and she felt his arms around her hips as she let out her breath in a shudder.
Perhaps she should move or something, but feeling him inside her at last felt so good she wanted a moment to appreciate it, and she felt herself tighten around him. He felt fabulous. “Sandor,” she said, and his hands moved to her legs, suddenly pulling her knees forward so that she leaned over him helplessly. “What are you...?” And then before she could even finish her question, his hands were back on her hips, low down, and he was moving instead of her, thrusting upwards into her and back out again.
“Oh, Gods!” she cried out, staring down at him. He grinned in response as he continued, and she was suddenly overcome again, this time by Sandor. She bit her lip to stifle the moans that rose in her as he did it to her, and her hands were planted on the bed just above his shoulders, her breasts brushing against his chest with each movement, the hair on his chest just tickling at her nipples.
“You feel so good,” she said, and then gave in to a high pitched sob of pleasure.
“So do you,” he said, his voice warm. He seemed to look past her then, and smirked. “Going to feel even better in a minute.”
Brienne gasped and tried to look back as Sandor stilled, and she saw Tormund moving into place behind her. It was too uncomfortable to twist around like that, though, and so she contented herself with looking at Sandor as she felt Tormund's hands on her hips, raising her up so that Sandor was only inside her a little way. Then one of his hands was on the small of her back, pressing her down and she submitted until she was resting with her upper body pressed to Sandor's chest.
Sandor's arms closed around her, and his lips were close to her ear. “Don't be frightened,” he said.
“I'm not!” she protested, but that was a little bit of a lie, especially when she felt Tormund so close to her. She could feel his body heat, and she whimpered, unable to help it. Yet it was one of his fingers again at first, and he said soothing words to her that made her body remember what he had done just a short time ago, and she felt herself make way again, just like before.
At that, he pulled his finger away, and there was no mistaking what was pressed against her then. “Tormund...” she whispered, apprehensive, feeling as if they were all on the verge of some great precipice, as if after this moment, nothing would ever be the same again... and he didn't move.
“It's all right,” he said. “You can take this, I promise.” Hearing him say that made it true, and yet he still didn't do it. “You can let me in, can't you, Brienne?” And then her name, from his lips, it did something to her, and as he pressed himself against her just there, she felt her body try to welcome him.
It didn't work, because at first it hurt, and she hissed in real discomfort as he kept up the pressure, relentless, but then a moment later it was done, and the pain passed as if it had never been there. Just momentary. She could feel him slide in deep, and where he passed Sandor it felt impossible, but it was happening. Brienne whimpered again, not sure why, except that she suddenly felt so fragile between the two of them, and Sandor wasn't even moving at all, wasn't even really very deep in her.
At first being taken that way felt wrong again. But then for a few moments he took her like that, as gentle as he'd ever been, moving slowly forward and back, until the sensation settled into the pleasure she'd felt before and she moaned.
“There it is,” Tormund said, and he sounded pleased. “Does it feel good again now?”
She nodded against Sandor's shoulder, silent now, face pressed into his neck. “She says yes,” Sandor said helpfully.
“All right,” Tormund said, those movements easing a little. “Turn by turn now, Clegane,” he instructed.
“Aye,” he replied, and she trembled. Tormund drew back, but kind of pressed down with his hands a little on her hips as Sandor thrust upwards, and she cried out loudly. Then before she could come to terms with how that felt, Sandor drew back, and Tormund went in again. At first it was slow, but it began to get quicker as they established a rhythm between them. Where they passed each other it felt amazing. Where one of them gave her pleasure, rubbing against her, instead of dissipating, it almost seemed to be reflected back, so that it built up inside of her with each of their movements.
The more they did it, the better it felt, and she could feel her body making way again – adjusting – and she wanted it to. Desperately she wanted it to! She was constantly trembling, sobbing in pleasure, and she raised her upper body so that Sandor might be able to get deeper. When she did that she could feel Tormund against her back, his body heat, and Sandor moved one of his hands to capture her right breast, squeezing at it as he watched her face.
It was as though she didn't know which one of them to respond to, and she didn't have the smallest instant of time to respond to either of them. If only she could respond to them both together, but that was impossible. They were different, and they were doing different things to her. She looked back at him helplessly, and he was smiling, occasionally biting his lip in pleasure. “I think she likes it,” he commented, and Brienne could barely comprehend the words. She was far too busy.
They'd been alternating, and they continued to do so, but they didn't withdraw as far, and every time she moaned it was like she couldn't stop until all of her breath was gone, until she feared she might really be screaming.
“Mmm...” she tried to keep it in, biting her lip hard as he watched her. “Don't let me scream!” she managed on an outward breath, thinking that it was still important somehow, her body shaking from the effort, and he grinned at her again.
“You're not screaming,” he told her. “You're not far off, Brienne, I'll admit,” he said, his eyes dancing with mischief, “but you're not screaming.” He paused. “Not yet.”
She closed her eyes with one of those long, desperate wails, needing to let it out, then opened them again, and for the first time in her life, Brienne felt small and utterly helpless. Trapped between the two of them like this, both of them inside her, their hands all over her body, she felt completely overwhelmed... and she loved it.
“How are you doing, Clegane?” Tormund asked.
“All right so far,” he said, smiling at her all the while. Her body tightened momentarily before relaxing again, just a portent of what was about to happen, and Sandor groaned, taking his time about it. “Might want to ask me that again in a minute or two,” he said.
Tormund laughed, and Brienne shivered. “Are you going to come?” Sandor asked her, and she nodded tightly, then let go of one of those moans that didn't want to end. Again, and then again, and at last it happened. Her body tightened around them, and they stopped moving for it as she felt it sweep through her, so strong that as soon as she could breathe again she was almost sobbing it out as it passed, her thighs shaking helplessly. Then as soon as her body relaxed they began again.
“Fuck,” Sandor said, and he growled a few times as he moved inside of her, then wrapped his arms tight around her waist and held her close, pressing his lips wherever he could reach.
“How is it, beauty?” Tormund asked, and she was trying to breathe, but she tried to say his name. Only a kind of helpless, high-pitched keening came out of her. Then she had to try and breathe again. Sandor was nibbling at her ear, and it was all building up again, much faster than the first time. Her legs were trembling constantly at either side of Sandor's hips, while Tormund's palms were stroking over her back slowly. It was too much! She turned her head away from Sandor's teasing, and the first of those long moans came out of her again.
“All right,” Tormund said, his voice low, still touching her that way to reassure her. “All right. You just take it. You don't have to tell me.”
“You okay Clegane?” Tormund asked then.
“You know what? You needn't worry. I don't think you give me enough room to come inside her like this, no matter what she does.” Brienne was listening, but she'd managed to contain those near screams, condense them into a a kind of extended growl.
“Yeah,” Tormund said slowly, a smile in his voice. “Perfect, isn't it?”
“Don't...” Brienne managed, having listened to them speak, all the while without stopping what they were doing to her. She tried to glare at Sandor, but wasn't sure she managed it, going by the way he smiled at her. Another long noise they got from her, and then she sobbed.
“Oh, Brienne, don't take it to heart like that,” Sandor said, as sincere as she'd ever seen him, one hand curling around the back of her neck to draw her close. “He just needs to know if I'll last the next one. You feel so good like this, with him inside you as well. I can feel him, pressing on me. Don't you know?” He laid his forehead against hers, and through it all she felt him tremble. “I've never been here before either.”
Never... her heart felt as full as the rest of her as she looked at him, but the next one... that was coming too. Brienne stared helplessly, and she bit her lip to keep it in but her breathing was already stuttering again in advance of it. “Sandor!” she cried, and then she was squeezing her eyes shut as she felt herself kind of shut down, that build up reaching a point where she had to let it go or die. She felt her thighs squeeze Sandor tight as it happened, and she might have tried to move but she didn't manage to get anywhere, not so far away as an inch.
She didn't know if they even stopped this time, she only knew that when she came back to herself they were either moving again, or they were still doing it to her.
“Beauty?”
Tormund was saying her name, and she was trying to come back, because it was important somehow. Something about staying with them. “Mmmm?” she said, and that was all she could manage, but it seemed to satisfy him, and he stopped calling upon her. Instead he talked to Sandor, and she didn't even listen, only tried to lean upwards again, bracing herself with her palms flat on Sandor's shoulders. He could take it. They stared at each other as he was saying something to Tormund, and as if she'd invited him, he began to knead at her breasts with his hands as it all continued, every movement they made feeding off the last, reducing her to a wreck of sensation and loud carnal growls.
Tormund was adjusting her lower body somehow, precise and deliberate, making her hold the position properly, his hands like restraints on her when she tried to lean. She made a face and yet she obeyed, somehow.
“More now, beauty,” he said, and she almost panicked.
“No! Please, Tormund,” she begged, frantic, unable to imagine what he wanted. “I can't!”
“Shhh...” he soothed, one hand stroking her hair, while the other moved in front of her body at the front, sneaking in between her and Sandor, but stopping before that place where he was buried in her, and then she understood.
The first touch of his fingers on her clitoris made her want to swoon, but she couldn't. Between the way Tormund was holding her head, and the way Sandor was pressing his own palms against her chest, she couldn't fall, only stay where they wanted her to stay. She cried out as he began to rub her there. Gods, it felt so good!
Faster and faster now, and deeper, and Tormund's fingers, her legs shaking again, and perhaps she was screaming, she didn't know, didn't care. It was like a whirlwind of sensation and it took her with it until she didn't know what was happening to her any longer. She'd felt like this before with both of them, but it was so much more intense this time. She fell quietly in the end, broken between them at last, and it didn't matter any more what they did. Her eyes were closed, she could breathe, and she took in great lungfuls of air as they murmured quietly to each other, the exquisite sensations drawing to a slow close.
Sandor pulled out of her and then they were letting her body fall forward, resting on Sandor as Tormund took what he wanted, pulling her hips back to meet him as he did it. She moaned slightly, her lips pressed against Sandor's ear, and she felt a little more complete when she felt him come, all that heat inside her. He pulled away at last, leaving her empty. But not for long.
Between them they manipulated her, Tormund holding her up while Sandor pressed inside her again. She inhaled, but her body was caressing him for her. As Tormund moved away to the side, she felt Sandor's knees behind her, keeping her steady as he took hold of her thighs and moved her up and down on him. It was so deep, and he was harsh and rough, as if he'd been holding it back for a long time. His fingers were digging in to her soft flesh and she wondered if she'd have little fingerprint bruises there tomorrow. She'd let him apologise for them, she thought, and it seemed so ridiculous that she tried to laugh, but she couldn't. Instead she almost cried.
“Sandor,” she said, and then she felt that he was there too, suddenly huge inside of her, and that hot, wet feeling as he came too. He didn't let her go immediately, but held her in his arms, held her close to his chest, and she was trembling. Actually, she didn't know if she'd even stopped shaking from when she gave in.
At last, he moved, and let her free to rest upon the bed. She could feel them, laid with her, one at each side, lazily caressing her, stroking her skin while she came around. After some time, Brienne opened her eyes.
“Welcome back,” Sandor said, smirking, and she smiled. They kissed each other slowly, little kisses that changed to something deeper – just a taste before it was done. She sighed, and let her head fall to the other side where Tormund was staring at her. This was all his idea.
“Is that what you wanted?” she asked, her voice all kind of high and floaty, the way it had been when she was a mere young girl, before she'd deliberately deepened it to ensure it carried. “Did I stay with you for long enough?”
“You're everything I want,” Tormund said. “Everything I'll ever want until the end.” He drew closer, and she licked her lips, anticipating the kiss. It was kind of heavy and it was Tormund, but it didn't last for long. He seemed to hold back a bit, and she was glad of it for now.
“Will you care for me,” she said, then blushed a little, “for my body, like you did before?” she asked, because she was sure she couldn't move for at least half an hour. Tormund smiled.
“Of course. Always, I said.”
It felt wonderful to let him do it, feeling him move her legs wide so that he could clean everything away. Brienne relaxed in Sandor's arms, staring into his eyes while he stroked his fingers over her face. It was inevitable those little kisses would start again, and as they did, she felt something change.
Tormund had finished his task, and now he was pressing tender little kisses to her just there, down below. At first she wondered if she'd need to tell him to stop, because she definitely was not ready for any kind of repeat performance. But it seemed as if he was just being weirdly affectionate, and he continued with those little kisses before slowly making his way back up her body.
At last it was all done, and they settled, all together, tangled up in each other's arms. Even Sandor leaned across to bestow a lingering kiss on Tormund's lips, of his own volition. Eventually, Brienne sighed.
“How can I possibly fight with you after this?” she said out loud, without meaning to, but her thoughts were turning in a darker direction now. She'd asked a similar question right at the start of all this, but then it had been fun. This wasn't fun any more. When they began this, she had everything to gain, now, it seemed there was everything to lose. She swallowed, and there was something awful trapped in her throat as she looked between Sandor and Tormund.
“How can I bear to see you cut down before me? How can I bear to lose you out there?” She tried to blink the sudden tears away, but they fell instead, and she sat up suddenly before one of them could hold her or something, because if they did she might not be able to stop.
Pull yourself together, she told herself sternly, wiping angrily at her face with the heels of her hands, and she shook her head as she let her arms drop, feeling both of them reach for her hands. She clasped them in hers. “I'll give my life for either of you. You know that, don't you?”
Even after everything they had done, she knew how men tended to see her, and she cringed, awaiting their laughter at her vow, which she had made very seriously in her heart, but there was no laughter. Before she could draw another breath they were both sitting up too.
“Brienne, I made that promise too, for you and him,” Sandor said seriously. “To myself, anyway.” He sighed. “I don't know how it will go, but we'll be fucking angry out there. I'll make sure you're furious,” he promised, then he smirked. “Even if I have to tease you first.”
She laughed a little, but it still stung, and she squeezed his hand as she looked into his eyes. “I can't save you,” she confessed. “All that I am, all that I've become, and I can't save either of you.” It hurt more than anything. It was like the world had one final cruel joke for her. All of her might, and she would still see them fall. There was the strangest look on Sandor's face then, as if he'd somehow faced this already.
“I can't save you,” he said back. “All that I am, and I can't. I'm sorry, Brienne.”
“It's not your task,” she said to him immediately. “You've already saved me, both of you. More than you know.”
“Woman,” Tormund put in. “Then you should already know that it goes both ways. It's not your task to save us, only to stand. Only to fight. You already saved us.”
For a moment, Brienne let that pass as the reassurance it was. Then she and Sandor looked at each other. Easy enough to understand how she might have saved him, what with the confession he'd made about his brother. He'd needed to let that out. But Tormund...?”
She turned her head sharply. “How? How did I save you?” she questioned, and Tormund pulled a strange face, as if he'd been found out. He cleared his throat.
“Oh, you don't need to think about that,” he said lightly, nodding. Brienne raised an eyebrow, feeling the melancholy ease as she considered Tormund all over again.
“Oh, right,” Sandor said, and there was a smile in his voice. “It's finally your turn, wildling. This should be good.”
“Tell me,” Brienne demanded, her voice hard now. She wasn't going to let him get away with a hint like that and then not say it all.
“Fuck,” Tormund said, and puffed a breath out through his lips. “All right, then. If it will make you happy for the rest of the day,” he grumbled. Then he lie back down. “Come back down here. You can listen just as well in my arms,” he suggested.
It was sneaky of him, but it was also true enough, and Brienne did as he wanted, noting that Sandor had moved to Tormund's other side. She grinned, already feeling much better with her arm draped over Tormund's chest. Then when they were all comfortable, she prodded Tormund in the ribs.
“Now, go on and say it. And don't try to hide anything from me,” she warned.
Tormund frowned. “All right, woman!” he said, getting a little belligerent, then he sighed. “I suppose, if it started anywhere, it started when I climbed the wall that last time.”
“You climbed the wall?” she echoed, shocked, leaning up on her elbow so that she could look down at him. Tormund grinned.
“Aye. With a rope and some ice picks. I've done it more than once,” he said, proud, and Brienne saw her own incredulity reflected on Sandor's face. He seemed to realise they weren't taking him entirely seriously. “How do you think wildlings get south of the wall to raid anywhere?” he asked. “You think the crows just let us through?” The conclusion was inevitable. Brienne felt her mouth drop open a little in awe. She shut it with a little snap, seeing as he was staring at her, and getting more than a little enjoyment out of her surprised admiration.
“And?” she prompted.
Tormund's face darkened. “We had a traitor in our midst,” he said carefully. “A crow. Going by the name of Jon Snow.”
To be continued...
Author's Note: Thank you for reading, I hope you had fun :) Please leave a review on your way out so that I can feed the muses! All will be responded to here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/61848-pippychicks-review-replies-tv/
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