As Robert watched her tears, his rage and suspicion were suppressed by a more primal urge.
He loathed her, but there was no denying how attractive she was. Especially now, when she was deliberately trying to please him, setting aside her usual arrogance.
He roughly grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. Cersei let herself fall into his arms, wrapped her hands around his neck, and tilted her face up, her lips slightly parted.
What followed came naturally.
Cersei fought back her revulsion and did everything she could to satisfy him, drawing on every trick she knew. She kissed Robert's hairy chest and pleased him with her lips.
Only when Robert was utterly lost in pleasure did she whisper breathlessly in his ear, "Your Grace... you need a truly powerful Hand of the King... someone who can keep everyone in line... someone who can help you face the threat of the dragons... my father... Lord Tywin... only he is suited to it..."
At that moment, Robert was almost lost in her embrace, ready to grant her every request.
But after he climaxed, his reason swiftly returned.
He pushed Cersei away, sat up in bed, and stared at her naked body. Suddenly, he burst into laughter, the sound full of mockery and anger.
"You think spreading your legs will make me hand the kingdom over to your father? Cersei Lannister, you're just like your damned family. You think gold can buy anything, and beauty can conquer everything."
Cersei went a little pale. "Your Grace, I wasn't..."
"Shut up!" Robert roared, jumping out of bed. He snatched the robe from the floor and threw it in her face. "Get dressed and get out. I'd sooner make that sour-faced Stannis Hand of the King than let Tywin Lannister set foot in King's Landing