Work Text:
“Jaime?” He felt rather than heard her, warm against his throat. “What’s wrong?”
He had the absurd urge to laugh. Instead he turned his face to hers in the dark and brought her closer. He touched his nose to her unblemished cheek, so softly he could feel the tickle of the downy hairs that grew there, invisible.
“Nothing is wrong.”
“You’re trembling.”
This time he did laugh, voicelessly, breathlessly, the heat of it skittering over her skin. She gave a shiver.
“You are mistaken, my lady.” Her chin in his hand, tilting her towards him. “Have you ever seen a lion tremble?”
“I’ve never seen a lion at all,” was all she managed before his mouth was on her.
Her lips were warm, and soft and warm, and warm and shivering and wet, and when his thumb smoothed a crescent moon from her forehead to her jaw, she opened for him like a shell, and melted like foam.