Chapter 22 R18 (Different Stannis)

Third Pov

With a swift motion, Stannis lifted Cersei, carrying her to the bed across the room. He tossed her onto the bed, not roughly but with enough force to make her gasp, her golden hair fanning out across the dark Blanket. She looked up at him, her green eyes blazing with challenge, her lips parted in expectation. He shed his clothes quickly, his shirt and trousers falling to the floor, revealing his muscled frame, his arousal clear. Cersei’s gaze roamed over him, a smirk playing on her lips as she took in his eagerness.

He climbed onto the bed, his lips crashing against hers, the kiss deep and demanding. His hands found her breasts, massaging the soft, full mounds, his thumbs brushing over her pink nipples, drawing a low moan from her. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin before moving to her chest. His mouth closed over her right nipple, sucking firmly, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. Cersei’s hands tangled in his hair, her moans growing louder, a breathy plea for more.

His right hand slid down her body, fingers tracing the curve of her hip before slipping between her thighs. He teased her slit, stroking the smooth folds with gentle slowness, feeling her tremble beneath him. Then, he slid two fingers inside her, curling them to find that spot that made her cry out, while his thumb circled her clit. Cersei’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking against his hand, her breath hitching as pleasure coiled tight within her.

Stannis shifted, his mouth moving to her left nipple, sucking harder now, his teeth biting the sensitive flesh, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. His hand never faltered, his fingers thrusting in and out, his thumb pressing against her clit with increasing pressure. Cersei’s moans filled the room, her body writhing under his touch. Her climax hit suddenly, her cry sharp and wild, her walls clenching around his fingers as she shuddered, her golden hair sticking to her reddened cheeks. Her chest heaved, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, her lips parted, a glow of sweat glistening on her skin. She was a vision of raw, untamed beauty, and Stannis felt a surge of satisfaction at the sight, his own desire burning hotter.

He withdrew his hand, his lips leaving her breast, and leaned back to take her in. Cersei lay sprawled across the bed, her golden hair a tangled, her cheeks flushed a deep pink, her green eyes glinting with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. Her breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing, the pink nipples still hard, her skin glowing in the candlelight. Stannis’s gaze lingered, his approval clear in his eyes.

Without warning, he grasped her hips, flipping her onto her stomach with a swift, controlled motion. Cersei gasped, her hands gripping the sheet as he positioned her on her knees, her perfect ass raised in a provocative display. Stannis paused, his hands caressing her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he admired the curve of her body. He took his cock in hand, hard and aching, and guided it to her slit, teasing her with slow, deliberate strokes along her folds. Cersei’s face was pressed into the pillow, muffling her moan, but the sound was unmistakable—needy, desperate, urging him on.

He leaned over her, his chest brushing her back, and positioned himself at her entrance. With a slow thrust, he entered her, filling her completely. Cersei’s moan was louder now, her body arching to meet him as he began to move, each thrust deeper than the previous. His hands gripped her hips, kneading the soft flesh, guiding her rhythm as he fucked her, the bed creaking beneath them. Cersei’s moans grew louder, her body rocking back to meet his thrusts, her golden hair swaying with each movement.

Stannis increased his pace, his thrusts growing harder, faster, the sound of their bodies slamming mixing with Cersei’s cries.

“Yes, harder,” she gasped, her voice a sultry command, her face still buried in the furs. He obliged, his hips snapping against her, one hand delivering a sharp smack to her ass, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from her.

He leaned forward, his hands sliding up her body to cup her breasts, pulling her back against his chest. Her back pressed against him, her skin hot and slick with sweat, and he kissed her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. His fingers pinched her nipples, rolling them between his thumbs, drawing breathless moans from her lips. His thrusts grew relentless, pushing deeper, faster, until the room was filled with the sounds of their pleasure—her cries, his low groans, the creak of the bed.

“Ahh, yes, yes,” Cersei moaned, her voice rising as she turned her head, her green eyes locking onto his. Stannis saw the raw lust in her gaze, a fire that matched his own, and he kissed her hard, their lips crashing together. She bit his lower lip, a sharp, possessive nip that sent a jolt through him, and he felt his climax building. Her walls tightened around him, her own release crashing over her as she cried out, her body trembling against his. Stannis followed, his groan muffled against her lips as he spilled inside her, his hands gripping her tightly as they rode out the waves of pleasure together.

They collapsed onto the bed, breathless, their bodies slick with sweat. Stannis lay beside her, his chest heaving, but Cersei was not done. She lifted her head, her golden hair sticking to her flushed cheeks, and rested it on his shoulder, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. Her green eyes glinted with mischief as she looked up at him, a small, teasing smile on her lips. “What’s this, Your Grace? Already tired?”

Stannis raised an eyebrow, his voice low and amused. “You dare challenge a Baratheon’s stamina, Lady Cersei?”

She laughed, a sultry sound, and leaned up, her green eyes flashing with provocation.

“Your Grace, taming a lioness is no simple task.” Her hand slid lower, wrapping around his softening cock, stroking him with slow, deliberate movements. He hardened under her touch, a low growl escaping his throat as she kissed him, fierce and hungry, her tongue plunging into his mouth.

Cersei broke the kiss, her lips curving into a wicked smile as she straddled him, her thighs bracketing his hips. She took his cock in hand, guiding it to her slit, teasing herself with the tip before sinking down slowly, a moan escaping her lips.

“Ahh,” she breathed, her hands bracing on his chest as she began to ride him, her movements slow and deliberate, her breasts swaying with each roll of her hips.

“Your Grace,” she purred, her voice dripping with challenge, “see this? These are yours now.” She gestured to her breasts, then leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear. “And not just them—I’m yours entirely. Use me as you will.” Her pace quickened, her moans growing louder, her body rocking against his with increasing urgency.

Stannis’s hands gripped her thighs, his thumb finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles that made her cry out, her moans filling the room. His other hand reached for her breast, massaging the soft flesh, his fingers pinching her nipple as it bounced with her movements. He sat up, his mouth closing over her other nipple, sucking hard, his tongue swirling around the pink peak. Cersei’s moans grew, her hands tangling in his hair as she rode him harder, her body trembling with the building pleasure.

He broke away from her breast, kissing her deeply, his tongue claiming her mouth as his hands slid to her back, pulling her closer. With a swift motion, he rolled them over, pinning her beneath him, her back pressed into the sheets. He lifted one of her legs, hooking it over his shoulder, his hand gripping her thigh as he thrust into her, deep and relentlessly. His other hand slid to her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp, her green eyes widening with a mix of surprise and desire.

“Yes, my lioness,” he growled, his voice rough with possession, “you’re mine, now and forever.” He kissed her hungrily, their lips locked as he drove into her, his pace unyielding. Cersei’s moans were muffled against his mouth, her body arching to meet each thrust, her nails digging into his back.

They continued like this, their bodies entwined, chasing pleasure with relentless passion. Hours passed, the candlelight dimming as they explored each other, their movements shifting from fierce to slow, then back again. Then, finally, exhaustion claimed them and both fell asleep.

The next morning

Light streamed through the narrow window of Stannis Baratheon’s chambers, painting the stone walls with a soft golden glow. The light stirred Stannis from sleep. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the brightness, and rubbed his hands across his face.

Sitting up, he glanced toward the window, noting that it was already morning. His gaze shifted to his side, where Cersei Lannister lay, her body curled gracefully on her side, her head resting on the pillow.

The blanket had slipped, covering only half her body, leaving her full, perfect breasts exposed, the pink nipples soft in her slumber. Her golden hair spilled across the pillow, a tangled cascade that caught the morning light, glowing like gold. Her chest rose and fell with slow, steady breaths; her face was calm, different from the fierce lioness she had been the previous night. Stannis’s lips curved into a faint smile at the sight. He leaned back against the pillow, his hands clasped behind his head, and let his thoughts drift to the day ahead.

"Today is the tourney," he thought, his mind sharpening. This was the day he would finally select his Kingsguard. His conversation with Ashara Dayne about her brother, Ser Arthur, resurfaced.

Today, Arthur, the Sword of the Morning, would publicly swear his oath and take his place among Stannis’s Kingsguard. For now, Stannis knew of two knights who would definitely become part of his Kingsguard. One was Arthur Dayne, a knight of unmatched skill whose loyalty Stannis would test carefully. The other was also a legendary knight.

"Barristan Selmy," Stannis mused. He recalled their meeting, two days after Jon Arryn and Ned Stark’s arrival. Barristan had offered his service. Stannis hadn’t accepted outright, nor had he refused. Instead, he’d told Barristan of the tourney, where the knight would need to prove himself if he wished to join the Kingsguard. Barristan had agreed without hesitation, vowing to show that age hadn’t dulled his skill.

Stannis recalled the version of Barristan from the show, who, despite his age, remained a formidable fighter. Stannis was confident that today, Barristan Selmy would earn his place in the Kingsguard.

His thoughts paused as he turned to Cersei, his gaze lingering on her sleeping form.

“Cersei,” he said softly, his voice low and calm. “Time to wake up.”

She stirred, a faint murmur escaping her lips, but her eyes remained closed. Stannis reached out, his hand brushing gently across her cheek, his fingers tracing the soft curve of her jaw.

“Cersei, wake up,” he repeated, his tone firmer but still gentle.

Her green eyes fluttered open, shining in the morning light, framed by long lashes that blinked slowly as she adjusted to the day. She looked at him, a slow, sleepy smile spreading across her lips.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” she said, her voice husky with sleep.

“Good morning, Cersei,” Stannis replied, his smile small but genuine.

“It’s time to rise. You’ll miss the tourney if you linger.”

Cersei’s smile turned seductive, her eyes glinting with mischief as she leaned toward him, her golden hair spilling over her shoulder. She pressed her lips to his, the kiss soft but laced with promise. Stannis returned it, his hand instinctively finding her breast, his fingers brushing the soft, full flesh, as inviting as it had been the night before. The memory of their passion stirred him.

Cersei’s hand slid down his chest, her fingers teasing toward his groin, but Stannis caught her wrist, pulling back with a shake of his head.

“Not now,” he said. “Go prepare for the tourney.”

She pouted, her lips curving into a playful challenge. “There’s plenty of time for that,” she purred, leaning in for another kiss, but Stannis held her at bay, his expression hardening. He would not let her think she could sway him with beauty or lust alone.

“No,” he said, his tone taking on a slight edge of command. “It’s time to prepare. Get up, bathe, and ready yourself for the tourney.”

Cersei’s eyes narrowed briefly, but she relented, recognizing the steel in his voice. She sat up, the blanket falling away to reveal her naked body in full glory.

She glanced at him sidelong, ensuring his eyes were on her, and flashed a triumphant smile. With deliberate grace, she rose from the bed, her movements slow and provocative as she walked to where her gown lay crumpled on the floor. Bending down, she retrieved it and began to dress.

Stannis watched, a faint smirk playing on his lips at her brazen display, but his thoughts shifted as a reasonable concern surfaced.

“Cersei,” he said, his tone serious, “don’t forget to drink moon tea.”

Cersei paused, half-dressed, her gown partially laced. She turned to him, her brow furrowing.

“Moon tea?” she asked, her voice tinged with surprise. “Why? We’re to be wed, aren’t we?”

Stannis rose from the bed, his own body bare, and pulled a robe from a nearby chair.

“We’ll announce our betrothal after I take Dragonstone and return to King’s Landing,” he said. “That could take time, and the wedding preparations longer still—moons, perhaps. I won’t have you showing a belly on our wedding day.”

Cersei considered this, her green eyes thoughtful, then nodded.

“Very well,” she said, her voice steady, accepting his reasoning. “I’ll do as you say.”

Stannis’s lips twitched into a faint smile. He leaned in, kissing her briefly, a gesture of approval.

“Good,” he said. “Now, it’s time for you to go.” He walked her to the door, opening it with a creak.

“I’ll see you at the tourney, Lady Cersei,” he said, his smile carrying a hint of warmth.

Cersei returned the smile, inclining her head with mock formality.

“Indeed, Your Grace. At the tourney.” She turned, her gown swishing as she glided into the corridor, her golden hair catching the torchlight as she disappeared from view.

Stannis watched her go, his expression unreadable, then turned to the Stormguard stationed outside.

“Find the maids,” he instructed. “Have them prepare a bath.” He closed the door with a firm click.