My first GoT story, so please be gentle and feel free to review :)

Petyr knew for some time. From the quick glances, the stolen moments in the halls, even from the bright smile she revealed every time she passed him. He could tell for quite awhile that the dark gowns she wore to dinner, how her long locks flowed past her shoulders were like flames cascading down her back that reached right out and burned him.

He yearned for her every night. He would lie awake for hours, sometimes even until the sun rose, just thinking of how the sunrise mirrored her beauty. In fact, he thought, the colors of the fresh morning sky were not nearly as breathtaking as she was.

The feelings that started in the pit of his stomach and rumbled through the core of his being had been there for many moons. They settled in and built a home within him. He tried to avoid her, to think of her as a daughter, a friend, someone in need. Just a young frightened child who literally had no one left. But kissing her on the steps awakened something new.

As her tongue, wet and docile slowly caressed his as he embraced her on the stairs; the cold surrounding them melted away. There was no longer the icy, freighting shock of the mountains, or restlessness pounding of his heart.

There was just her. Her mouth and hands, shaky and warm. Her skin, white and as bright as the snow falling around them.

He could feel her pulling away, so he let her go. Seeing the fear in her eyes fade was hope enough. She wasn't ready. She was so young, so harmless, so scared. How could she not be? He was much older than her, much more dangerous, much more experienced. But he knew, after he saw her for the funeral, that look of confidence, dressed in all black that she too wanted him as he wanted her.

It was soon after when he would notice her hand move ever so slightly closer to his as they talked in the courtyard, or over a glass of wine after dinner. She would move it so close to his, he could feel the heat radiating off of her. It made him twitch and sweat under his robes. He could only focus on the way her chest rose and fell with every breath, how her eyes gleamed as she studied his face.

But he felt the suspicious eyes of everyone watching, and knew such public places were not the right way to go about private affairs. Part of him didn't care, but he was not foolish enough to gamble everything he worked so hard for to be washed away by a clumsy feeling.

He fought with himself on the ordeal, that this affair wouldn't be stupid, that he felt deeply for her as she laughed and smiled and responded to every single word that he said with confidence and an eager sense to please.

How he wished to please her.

To show her the gentle caress of what a true lover was. To be the first to touch her anywhere and everywhere she desired. To watch her naked breasts rise and fall under the moonlight and see her hands grasp at the linens, her legs thrash around his head.

He always thought of himself as an insightful man. As the nights went on, and as they spent more time alone he could tell she was getting anxious for him to touch her. She was too shy and nervous to make the first move, but the way her lips parted before she left him, inviting in him for a kiss was almost too much to bare. Most nights he would inch closer, and watch her lips quiver with anticipation.

It was on one night he found himself sitting in the gardens, looking up at the full moon. It illuminated a rather bright light, leaving him with the notion he could see and sense his surroundings rather clearly. Unlike every other night he was lost in these thoughts of his Sansa, how in the past month she had grown so much.

The image of her pale skin was comparable to the soft moonlight, and he could almost smell the faint tracings of her perfume. He closed his eyes and saw her, standing by a window, her long arms slowly moving up to her hair, releasing the fiery locks and encompassing her soft, snowy skin.

He licked his lips in anticipation, as if he could feel the gentle hairs of her arms and trace the freckles that framed her shoulders. His lips quivered as he heard voice say his name, "Petyr" get louder and louder…

Suddenly a shock flew through him, his eyes jolting open as his head whipped around to see his red-haired beauty behind him. She laughed and took a step closer. He stood up startled, letting out a very light gasp.

"Lady Sansa I-"

"I'm sorry Petyr, I did not mean to frighten you." She picked up the hem of her dark blue gown and took a few strides in front of him. Her form was fitting, and with each step she took closer he became more aware of how aroused his thoughts had made him.

"I was walking back to my chambers when I saw you sitting all alone in the gardens," she twirled around to face him, a jovial expression playing across her face made her blue yes shimmer in the moonlight. "I thought how you may enjoy some company on such a lovely night."

"A lovely night indeed" he was quick to even out his breaths as he took a step closer to her "but even more lovely now that you are present."

Sansa smiled at his words and took a few paces around him, performing a bit of dance for him. His eyes followed her every move. Taking in big whiffs of her perfume as the wind blew her hair towards him.

She extended her arm towards him and smirked. "Dance with me."

"But there is no band, no music." He smiled at her happy-go-lucky tone. Her cheeks turned a small hue of rose as he took another step closer to her.

"Well, just pretend." She twirled around again, and as her body moved towards him he grabbed her hand and caught her in a spin. Their faces met, almost touching and both their smiles faded as their lips landed near inches apart.

He could sense her body tense, her hands began to shake as she slowly inched closer and closer. He couldn't resist any longer. He hitched a breath and moved his lips to hers.

They were soft and sweet, she parted them just slightly allowing a quick sweep of his tongue to taste hers. His hands tightened around her as she pressed her body closer to his. Her body was warm, pleasant, and the way her frame slightly shook under his was enough to make him scream. But he drew back and slowly opened his eyes to find her smiling, almost laughing.

"My lady, what is so funny?" he whispered into her ear. He felt the quick panic of embarrassment but it was soon washed away when he felt her lips pressed against his again.

She moved her body swiftly, wrapping her arms around his neck, bringing him closer and closer to her. Her breasts felt firm against his body as he lowered his hands to her waist, he was startled to find her tongue begin to part his lips and begin teasing his own.

It was with slick, quick movements that their mouths danced as his hands traced up and down her back until she curled his fingers in her hair, getting lost in the never-ending mane of hers that he so adored.

He could feel himself getting more aroused, his hands began to sweat as her body melted into his. She was warm and soft and he was sure he could the harding press of his erection against her thigh. She pulled away to leave him nearly panting.

He was sure he had never seen a woman look so satisfied with her actions before. She could tell he was nothing but clay in her hands, ready to be molded into anything she wanted. Her eyes were lit with a certain power only a woman knows, when a man is willing to do anything just to touch her.

His body twitched under his robes just watching her smile at him. She licked her lips and kissed his neck, she always fancied his neck, and trailed light kisses along his jawline. He closed his eyes and sighed, grasping at her hands and holding them tightly.

She planted another firm kiss on his lips and then a few more along his face, his ear lobe and began sucking at a spot right on the side of his neck. His eyes closed tightly as she broke free from his grasp and her hands began to move carelessly along his body.

In between kisses she let out faint callings of his name which caused him to become even more erect.

"Sansa," he replied his eyes slowly opening. She looked at him with a smile and glided her hand down his chest, past his waist and right to the hardening bulge in his pants. Her hand carefully glided over the spot a few times before he quickly reached down and stopped her.

Shocked, her lips parted as she took a step back, her hand still cupping him as his firm grip restricted her wrist from moving.

"I think it's rather too late to be out of your sleeping chambers". His voice was husky as he slowly released her hand. Sansa flattened out her palm and rubbed him one more time. She smiled again as he let out a small moan before leaning up close to his ear and whispering,

"Then take me back to yours."

To be continued?...