Her heart is hammering against her chest as she stands outside the door. Everyone has finally gone to bed, the castle quiet in the late of the night. Yet she cannot settle down. Sleep just refuses to come and claim her. This is the first time in a long while that she's finally safe, she has killed all the monsters under her bed. She has taken revenge on everyone that hurt her. She has buried all the hatchets and now she's ready to move on. It's time. She knows it is. Her eyes rest against the wood of the door again.
'You've changed, little bird.' He had said to her over dinner.
Oh, how right he was! She had. She had shed her old skin, all the notions of noble knights and flowery promises. She no longer wants to bare the king's babies. A long time ago, in another lifetime her father had promised to find a good and honorable man for her to marry. She had claimed she wanted Joffrey then, now she can see how wrong she was. How young and naive she had been.
"Seven hells," he growls as he throws the door open. "What do you want, girl?" His question is like a bucket of cold water and Sansa takes a step towards him. She doesn't realize it until she's just a breath away from him. If he had spoken to her like that a few years ago she'd have taken a step back instead. The realization makes her want to burst into laughter. He's towering over her but for some reason, she doesn't feel threatened or uncomfortable. She only feels heat radiate from him and she aches to touch him.
"You." She breaths out and then her lips are on his. It's slow, she's tasting the waters waiting for him to push her away. Ready for the rejection either from him or from her own body. Ramsey is dead and gone but she still wakes up in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat. She still flinches when Jon touches her by accident. Her body hasn't been her own for a while and she needs to claim it back. Ramsey is gone and Sansa has her entire life before of her. She has all the time to love and be loved in the purest and most passionate form.
She wraps her arms around Sandor's neck and he pulls her into his arms and inside the room. The door slams shut and the sound echoes in the small space. He pulls back as he sets he's down and that's not what she wants. What she needs is his naked skin against her own. She needs him to erase all the others.
Joffrey.
Lord Baelish.
Ramsey Bolton.
They all need to be deleted from her mind.
She's here and they are not.
She's alive and they are not.
She's going to live her life happily and they are not.
"Little bird," He whispers in the dead of the night. It almost sounds like a prayer or maybe a plea. Sansa is not sure about it.
"I have a task for you," She announces determinately. She takes a step forward, her fingers undoing the laces of her nightgown. "I need you to make me forget." The fabric pools around her legs and the cold air raises goosebumps against her skin. "Please." The words leave her mouth in a quiet whisper. There isn't much that Sandor can refuse her.
His lips find hers again and this time he doesn't pull back. He sucks the breath out of her, trailing kisses down her jaw as she works the laces of his breeches. They're naked before each other but there's no shame. She always admired him, tall and well build. A soldier through and through. Not a king. Not a nobleman like her young self had wished. But Sansa is not a young girl anymore. That kind of innocence was stripped away from her a long time ago.
'I'm not a knight, girl.' He had snarled at her a cold night and she had flinched.
Back then she thought he was the most terrifying sight she had ever seen. How terribly wrong she had been. He sits at the edge of his bed, pulling her to straddle his lap. There's a big part of her that appreciates the fact that he lets her lead, lets her chose her own pace. One of his hands sneaks between them, towards her wet folds and they are both surprised at her reaction. His fingers run over the sensitive nub at the apex of her thighs and pleasure jolts her body into life. She expects pain when he slips two of his fingers into her but instead, she gets another wave of euphoria. Her first orgasm takes her by complete surprise, her heart beating fast, her body vibrating, her head dizzy in the best way possible. And most of all his arms are around her, holding her tight as she rides out the waves.
"We can stop." He murmurs nuzzling her neck. She knows what he's doing, he's giving her a way out. Sansa is scared to even acknowledge what is going through inside her mind right now. She's not ready to deal with the truth of her feelings, not just yet.
"No," she shakes her head and pushes against his chest, forcing him to lay back. "I want more." She declares and raises herself on her knees. She already has him halfway through inside of her before he even has time to protest and she sees his eyes roll at the back of his head. His hands rest on her hips, letting her control everything. The way they move, the speed, they're both surprised when she pushes his as deep as possible. She leans back, her hands resting against his knees. She's bouncing on his cock and he hasn't seen a more beautiful sight before.
Her eyes are glazed over with pleasure, her hair unbound framing her face like a blazing fire. If he has to die, Sandor would like to die now, in this single moment with his cock buried deep inside the She-wolf on top of him. She comes with a cry of his name, falling against his chest. It takes him a few more thrust and then he spills inside of her. He shouldn't have done that but no one of them cares right now.
"You." He murmurs as they lay tangled together, none of them willing to move.
"Hmm..." she hums as her fingers draw patterns against his skin, dizzy from what they've just done.
"You would have made me happy." He admits finally, both to her and himself and Sansa sighs happily.
"I know." The side of her mouth tilts up in a smile. Comfortable silence drapes over them like a blanket. Minutes pass, maybe even hours but none of them moves. "Stay." Her voice is barely a whisper, she's not sure if it's a request or an order. She just knows what's going to happen to the people that march south tomorrow and she doesn't want him to be one of those people. She just found him, losing him again is not an option.
"If you wish." Is his only answer as his arms tighten around her. There isn't much he wouldn't do for the woman in his arms anyways.
~The End~
