That was all Jian Rui needed. He slid from the couch, the rich fabric of his robes whispering against the floor, and knelt before Stannis.
He looked up, his gaze seductive, a promise of worship and wickedness. His hands, smooth and knowing, found Stannis's thighs. He rubbed them, feeling the powerful muscle beneath the taut fabric of the Marshal's uniform trousers. He pressed his palms inward, a firm, massaging touch that made Stannis groan softly.
Then Jian Rui leaned forward. He nuzzled Stannis's crotch, his cheek warm against the fabric.
He inhaled, smelling the scent of leather, sweat, and the unmistakable musk of man. His nose traced the hard line already forming there, a ridge of desperate flesh begging for attention.
"Your Majesty…" Stannis whispered, a strained plea.
