Disclaimer: This story is entirely based on characters and plots from George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire
A SWEET POISON
"Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same."
Cersei, to Sansa Stark - ACOK
Sansa's heart pounded with excitement as she backed herself up against the wall of the tower room over-looking the vastness of the North.
She loved this tower room, loved the way the sun sometimes slanted in through the arrow slits and how the breezes blew in from the meadows and rills surrounding the keep and around the room to stir her long hair and ruffle her skirts and cool their bodies when they…
She held a hand out to him, to beckon him to come to her.
"My lady needs attending, I see," he grinned bright and warm; his eyes, wicked and tender, locked on hers.
"Always," she assured him gently.
He grunted his approval and roughly drew her to him with both arms around her. He slid down the length of her slim body until his lips were at the tops of her breasts above the neckline of her gown. He pressed hot kisses to her skin as one great big hand slid up to squeeze one breast and push it up to his mouth. He groaned in frustration.
"Damn your pretty gowns, my lady, and damn the maid who laces you into your smallclothes," he panted. "If I could chase them all from this keep, I'd have you walk about naked for my pleasure."
Sansa laughed deep in her throat. "You could unlace me…as you so often have," she murmured her invitation.
"I've not the patience, my lady; not even to feast at your sweet teats before having you. Never mind," he winked up at her, "for I know a secret passageway."
She had already begun to draw up her skirts and underskirts when he scrambled under her gown and snatched at her smallclothes with one hand as he pulled the drawstring with the other. He half-pulled them down before they slid to the worn wood floor and she daintily stepped out of them.
"Always the gentle lady," he breathed huskily as he pressed himself into her and she felt the hard stones of the wall against the bones of her back.
"Sweet teats," he repeated hoarsely as he gazed down her body from under hooded eyes at her breasts now pushed up against his chest in its leather jerkin. They rose and fell with every heavy breath she drew. She felt his warm rough hands slide under her smooth bottom now. "Up with you, my lady."
She threw her arms around his neck and hopped up as he lifted her to him. She locked her slender ankles together just over his backside and let her head fall back as he dragged his lips and tongue over her long white throat. She could feel him fumbling at the laces of his breeches.
She loved when he took her like this: when he lifted her by the backs of her thighs and spread her legs open for him so he could lower her onto his hard member and fill the aching wetness of herself with his own throbbing need.
"Ah!" She gasped in ecstasy to have him inside her. He filled her so completely and made her feel warm and wet and wanton.
"Gods, my lady," he groaned through clenched teeth, "how you want me."
"Yes, yes," she sighed desperately, "I want you: take me, take me…make me yours."
He rolled his hips up to meet her body, pushing deeper than he had when he entered her. The fingers of his rough, strong hands dug deeper into the pale, soft flesh of her thighs. Once, twice, three times he pushed into her slow and deep as she panted and clung to him. Her own long fingers sank into the fur collar of his cloak and curled languidly.
Gods he was strong. She loved to feel the powerful thrust of his body into hers, loved to smell his skin in her nostrils. He smelled musky and earthy, of sweat and horses and warm sun and forest pines. Her head spun from pleasure and she gave a shivery moan from between parted lips.
"My lady's ready now," he panted, his tone almost threatening. Then came the onslaught.
He pressed her harder into the wall so he would no longer needs hold her from beneath. He grabbed her wrists from around his neck and raised her arms over her head and held her there as his movement hitched and he began bucking his hips in a steady rhythm, his thrusts sharper and harder now. Her excitement became nigh unbearable; she thought she might scream.
"Oh…oh my- I- " She cried out as she peaked and her whole body shuddered and she felt the rushing warmth flush her skin from her hairline down to her breasts. Her toes curled in her doeskin boots and she her insides tightened and fluttered around his iron-hard member. She sighed contentedly.
"Oh, no, my lady…I've not done with you yet. I'll have my pleasure now," he muttered tightly.
He pulled out of her suddenly and her feet dropped to the floor. He grabbed her around her waist and, with a harsh twist, he turned her away from him and face to the wall. He once again took her by her wrists and placed her palms flat against the grey stones. He snatched at her skirts from behind, pulling them up over her bottom and groping her behind, spreading her cheeks to enter her again. He closed his strong hands over her hips and thrust hard and deep with a sharp grunt. He kept grunting with every thrust into her as he gripped her hips tighter and pulled her body back to him, filling her again and again. The smack of his skin against hers made loud slapping sounds. Her insides were still receptive: warm and slick and throbbing from her release. She scratched and scrambled at the stone wall with her fingernails, trying desperately to hang on something solid in the wake of his relentless possession of her body.
"Gods, my lady…my beautiful lady…"
His groan of release seemed deafening though she knew he was muffling this cry. She felt the powerful spurt of his seed filling her with every hot throb of his manhood; it filled her deep and seemed to claim her as his. He gave one final jerk of his body and subsided, though his fingers still dug into her in a merciless grip. He leaned forward and slid his hands up now to cup her breasts from behind and to press a kiss into her shoulder near the back of her neck. She felt his hot breath blow over her skin there.
"Have I hurt you, my lady?" he whispered. He rested his chin over her shoulder and rubbed his beard against her cheek. She turned her cheek away as she shook her head.
"No," she whispered softly, sadly, "you were wonderful. You are wonderful."
She straightened now and he turned her back to him, leaning in to kiss her mouth; but she stopped him with a finger to his lips.
"You should go now," she advised him softly.
He sighed through his nose but obeyed without protest. He even bowed slightly.
"My lady," he murmured again. He looked once more into her eyes and turned to leave the tower.
