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She gazed across the empty throne room, high above its floor. The sun had set hours ago, the faint glow of the moon and handful of candlesticks shining their dim yellow light. Her fingertips dragged around the metal of the throne, careful to avoid the sharp rusty edges.
“Your Grace?”
A bundle of long black curls bounced into Cersei’s field of vision. Taena emerged from one of the side entrances, her night dress billowing behind her to catch the moonlight. Sweat glistened at the tops of her shoulders; the night was muggy and warm, especially in the stale tunnels of the Red Keep.
Cersei smiled and sipped from her goblet. “I began to worry you hadn’t received my invitation.”
Taena’s bare feet padded against the stone flooring, landing squarely in front of Cersei. She knelt, head bowing so deeply the ends of her hair nearly touched the floor.
“I received it, my queen. I must apologize for being late, my lord husband…” she cleared her throat, “had need of me.”
“I see.” Cersei had no desire to speak of Lord Orton. “You may stand.”
Taena did as she was bid, straightening her back and drawing her chest forward. The thin fabric of her gown left nothing to the imagination, her dark nipples visible and plush hips accentuated by the hugging fabric.
“Come,” Cersei patted the empty space on her thigh.
Taena ascended the jagged steps up to the throne, lined with the sharp rusty swords all melted together. She carefully avoided the edges with her bare feet until her knees met with the queen’s.
Cersei drained her goblet of wine before setting the cup aside and taking Taena’s wide hips into her palms. Her skin was warm under the fabric, a welcome change from the unfriendly cold of the throne. Cersei pulled the woman onto her lap, her weight resting on the queen’s thighs.
“And somehow you still even smell of sin,” Cersei hummed, her nose buried in Taena’s hair at her neck. The exotic oils and fragrances in her hair were intoxicating, mixed with the light scent of sweat and the warmth of her body.
Taena giggled. “You’re tickling me, Your Grace,” she said, lightly pushing Cersei back from her neck by the shoulder.
But Cersei had a wicked tint in those green eyes, mouth forming into a smile as her hands dragged up Taena’s side and onto her belly. She kept eye contact with Taena and began wiggling her fingers painfully softly against the thin fabric of her dress.
Taena squirmed, stifling her laughter as much as she could before it began to hurt. Cersei was merciless, using her free hand to clamp over Taena’s lips and enjoying the feeling of her body squirming under her control. She only let up when Taena’s cheeks and chest were flushed and tears brimmed in her eyes.
“I hadn’t known you were so ticklish, Lady Merryweather.” Cersei slowly released Taena’s mouth and pinched one of her nipples through her dress. They had both become very erect during her torment, Cersei was pleased to note.
“I always have been, my queen,” Taena pressed against Cersei, urging her palm into the pillowy flesh of her breasts. Cersei’s eyes flicked down for a moment, then she gently pulled the top of Taena’s gown down to expose her nipples to the warm air.
“What else are you keeping from me?” Cersei wrapped her lips around the closest nipple, twisting the other in her fingertips.
“That makes me so wet,” Taena said, her voice low and breathy. Her hips rocked against Cersei, unconsciously searching for friction.
“Yes,” Cersei mumbled against Taena’s breast, “but I already knew that.”
Taena moaned as Cersei clamped her teeth down gently. “I’m told I’m exceptionally talented with my tongue, Your Grace.”
Cersei stilled, releasing the hard shiny nipple from her mouth.
“Something I thought you wouldn’t know,” Taena whispered.
Cersei studied Taena’s features, eyes flicking between plump lips and sultry brown eyes, before drawing her in forcefully. Their lips met, Cersei swallowing Taena’s gasp and steadying her by the hips once again.
“Let me show you,” Taena broke the kiss and rested her forehead against the queen’s. Cersei only nodded, lips parted.
Her hands reluctantly left Taena’s sides, letting her rise briefly before kneeling at Cersei’s feet. Cersei stiffened at Taena’s touch upon her bare legs, her warm hands tracing up their curves to pull her skirts up.
“Relax, my queen.” Taena kissed the top of each of Cersei's knees. The queen settled into the throne, pushing her thighs further apart and pelvis forward. Her gaze never left the woman before her, her olive skin shining against the candle lights and folding under gentle movements.
Taena pressed kisses into the tops of Cersei’s thighs, settling on her own knees as comfortably as possible.
Cersei gasped as Taena kissed across her legs, breath ghosting the golden hair at the apex of her thighs. Taena looked up, her dark brown eyes searching Cersei’s for permission. The queen only nodded before Taena buried herself between her thick pale thighs.
Cersei gasped, her head falling back and hips bucking. Taena dragged her tongue tentatively up Cersei’s slit, groaning at the taste. Her tongue flicked through the queen’s lips, savoring any untouched inch and claiming the smooth wet skin for herself.
Cersei groaned, her knuckles turning white and nails digging into her palms as Taena explored her cunt. The woman was exceptionally talented, Cersei had to admit. The queen all but screamed when Taena’s tongue entered her, the slick muscle expertly stimulating spots that had Cersei’s mind turning fuzzy.
Taena snaked her hand up further, clamping around one of Cersei’s clenched fists. The queen laced their fingers together, clamping back down around Taena’s slender palm with crushing force. Her whole body was growing tense, the need deep in her loins growing more urgent with each flick of Taena’s tongue.
She circled Cersei’s clit with deliberate pressure, running along it rhythmically while using her free hand to push two fingers inside of the queen. Her walls clenched around Taena’s fingers and another gasp escaped from above her. She felt Cersei’s walls flutter around her and her thighs grow tighter around either side of her head before the high-pitched moans hit her ears. Cersei’s hips bucked twice before her thighs clasped together hard, walls clenching rhythmically around Taena’s knuckles. She licked gently a few times at the throbbing clit, making sure to draw out the queen’s climax as long as possible.
When her thighs relaxed and freed Taena’s head, she slowly pulled away and removed her fingers from the queen—a gush of fluid dripping between her fingers and onto her palm.
Cersei caught her breath, helping Taena to rise and settle back into her lap. Taena greedily lapped at the juices on her fingers, her plump lips wrapping around each finger one at a time.
“Whoever observed your talents was correct, I must grant them that,” Cersei said, eyes fixed on Taena’s mouth. Her chin and lips glistened with slick and saliva.
“I thank you, Your Grace,” Taena smiled.
“A shame they have gone to waste so long.” Cersei brushed a lock of long black hair behind Taena’s shoulder.
Taena settled into Cersei’s arms, throwing her own around the queen’s shoulders. “They shan’t be wasted any longer.”
“No, I would hope not.” Cersei ran her hand along the outside of Taena’s thigh, digging her fingertips into the soft skin.