I fully expect my Twilight readers to find this repulsive.
Please don't read if you're unfamiliar with A Song of Ice and Fire or HBO's Game of Thrones. Out of context, this will seem appalling. Actually, in context, it's still kind of appalling.
I don't know. Incest is canon in this fandom, and I promised my husband I'd post porny A Song of Ice and Fire fic as part of his Christmas gift.
Don't worry, the Fall to Ruin One Day update is coming, too. I just needed a break from it.
Warning: Contains incest and underage sexual activity. Read at your peril.
No, really. Seriously. I'm not exaggerating. I still can't believe I wrote this. The things I do for love.
Un-beta'd, because I'm a pussy.
Written for Porn Battle XIII (Lucky Thirteen)
George RR Martin owns A Song of Ice and Fire.
I fucked Jaime on the morning of my wedding, the queen recalled.
-A Dance with Dragons, p. 939
The Queen's Brother
Jaime Lannister was, quite intentionally, drunk. If not for the wine, he doubted he'd be able to make it through the night. Leaving the wedding feast early wasn't an option; Cersei made that clear earlier that morning.
"You're my brother and a member of the Kingsguard," she said. "It wouldn't go unnoticed."
Jaime watched as she inspected her gown for damage, the one she'd wear to marry King Robert Baratheon, the one which only minutes earlier was gathered around her waist as Jaime spent himself inside her.
In a few hours, she'd belong to another. The thought of Robert Baratheon using Cersei the way he used whores consumed Jaime with rage.
"I know how he is," Jaime said.
"Then know this; when he takes me, I'll be pretending he is you."
Through the ceremony, Jaime retained his composure. After all, if he could stand idly as the Mad King burned men alive, surely he could make it through his sister's wedding. Then it was time for Robert to replace Cersei's Lannister cloak with one of House Baratheon. As he'd learned to do in Kings Landing, Jaime went away inside. In his head, it was him standing before the realm marrying his sister. Her Lannister cloak remained around her shoulders as he placed a golden crown encrusted with emeralds atop her glorious blond curls. That night she came to him, the crown her only adornment. She lay on the bed, parting her thighs for him as she had done since he was just a boy, curious about their differences. When he sank himself into her wet heat, he did so as her twin, her brother, her lover, and her husband.
He came back to the present only to find his sister wearing another man's cloak. If only she didn't didn't look so happy.
Cersei is nothing if not convincing, he thought. He wanted to believe that was all her smile was. But part of him, a far larger part than he wished to acknowledge, feared her joy was real, that she lusted for power more than she did for him. So he spent the feast drowning his fears in wine, trying his best to ignore her.
Until the start of the bedding ceremony, he succeeded. Through no will of his own, Jaime found himself among the men gathering around Cersei. He brushed his thumbs against her throat, and she closed her eyes.
No, Jaime thought. She doesn't get to pretend this isn't happening.
He moved his hands down her chest, cupping her breasts through her gown. She looked at him, her annoyance evident by her face.
In that moment, he remembered it all. Their childhood kisses, innocent until the day she pressed her lips against his and he felt a strange stirring in his cock. He told Cersei about it, of course. Even then, he told her everything. Infinitely curious, she unlaced his breeches to see if it looked different. Minutes later, she stroked him to his first climax. He tried to describe to her how it felt but couldn't. She lay on her back and pushed her small clothes over her hips.
"Can you do the same for me?" she asked.
He knelt between her legs, tentatively exploring her pink flesh. He marveled at her heat, how wet she became, and the noises she made when he stroked the tiny bump at the top of her cunt. He remembered how fingers eventually became mouths. Cersei wanted to try something she'd once watched the servants do. She unlaced Jaime's breeches then fell to her knees in front of him. He thought nothing was more glorious than his sister's mouth.
Until she offered him her cunt.
"I am you; you are me," she said. "I need you inside me."
Mindful of preserving her maidenhead, he had yet to penetrate her with anything but his tongue. He slid his hand between her thighs and rubbed her until she was wet. When he entered her, it was with his finger.
"No." She pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips.
He rubbed the head of his cock between her lips until she lost patience. She took his manhood into her hands and pressed it against her opening. She lowered her hips, bringing him inside her. She was hot, tight, and better than anything he'd ever imagined. He squirted his seed into her womb far sooner than she would have liked. That day, he hadn't bothered hiding her disappointment in him.
So why should I hide mine? he thought.
With his eyes were locked on hers, Jaime unclasped the Baratheon cloak and pushed it from his sister's shoulders. He spoke without emotion.
Then he walked away.