That's right, everyone, it's that time again! I've finally managed to steal some more work wifi and I'm popping in just for a quick update. I've already began working on the next chapter, so that one will hopefully be up sometime next week, if not the week after.
I'd love to hear some feedback from you guys, so by all means, please leave a review and let me know what you think of the story so far. I look forward to hearing from all of you, and enjoy this next chapter!
"Alright, now let's try this again, for the hundredth time."
A small grin of amusement spread across Gwynne's lips as Arya let out a long sigh of frustration. She walked around Gwynne, her hands resting against the small of her back as she studied the older woman's form carefully.
She narrowed her eyes at Gwynne, fighting against the urge to roll her eyes. "Stand up straight." Gwynne straightened the hunch in her back. "Take a deep breath." Gwynne inhaled deeply, letting it out once her lungs had their fill. "Relax your body and focus on the target."
Gwynne nodded, closing an eye to try and focus on the target in front of her. Her tongue darted out, running across her upper lip as she blocked out the noises that surrounded her. Inhaling deeply again, Gwynne let go of the arrow and let it fly across the training yard.
"No, no, no! That was terrible! That might have been worse than the last time!" Arya continued grumbling under her breath as she stomped over to the target, retrieving the arrow that flew past it.
Gwynne laughed to herself, watching Arya shake her head to herself as she struggled to find where the arrow had fallen.
"Why do you insist on torturing the poor girl?" A powerful voice asked from behind her.
Gwynne spun around, recognizing the voice immediately. She bowed out of respect and looked up at Lord Stark as he stood in front of her, his lips curved upward in amusement. "Forgive me, my Lord. I suppose I just enjoy teasing her a little bit. I hope I haven't offended you."
Ned's smile grew as he shook his head, placing a hand on the small of her back to lead her away from his youngest daughter. "What offends me is that you still call me Lord when I've been like a father to you."
Gwynne kept her eyes on the floor, making her way back to the barrel full of bows as she placed hers inside with the rest. "Make no mistake, Lord Stark, I love my father, but you are the only father I've ever known."
Ned watched her features carefully as a wave of sadness came over them. He nodded solemnly, her soft words bearing more of a meaning than she had probably thought. He hated how he had replaced her father. He was a good man, a man who would have raised her with as much love as the good Lord himself had. It hurt him to feel as though his shadow overpowered her father's. It shouldn't have been like that.
"Would you care to go for a walk with me, Gwynne?"
She brushed her dirtied hands against the fabric of her dress absentmindedly as she nodded. "Of course, my Lord."
Ned and Gwynne walked side by side outside of the castle walls, enjoying the cool breeze that blew past them. Days like these wouldn't last for much longer. Winter was coming and all of these warm memories would be a thing of the past. There was no sense in staying inside the walls of the castle and wasting the last few glorious days that remained.
"Your father was a good man." Ned finally said, breaking the silence that had grown between them.
Gwynne kept her head down, her eyes watching the grass disappear underneath the fabric of her dress as she walked in time with Ned. "I've heard, my Lord. I'm sad to say that I don't remember much about my father. I just remember him saying a few things here and there." A sigh slipped through her lips as her voice became a near whisper. "I'm ashamed to say that I don't even remember what he looked like anymore."
"You look just like him. Sometimes I swear to the Gods I look at you and it's like I'm seeing a ghost." Ned realized his words were probably hurting her more than comforting her as he had originally intended so he finished his thought with a different tone. "But thank the Gods you have your mother's features to even it out."
She laughed under her breath as they continued to walk further and further away from the strong walls of Winterfell. Her laughter slowly disappeared as the next question left her lips. "And my mother? What did she look like?"
Ned let out a heavy sigh, thinking to the past to recall what she had looked like. It was all so long ago; he strained just to picture her face. But he could vaguely still remember her, smiling and laughing as she affectionately wrapped an arm around her swollen belly. "She was beautiful. Your father was a very lucky man when she agreed for his hand in marriage. We spent countless hours trying to figure out how he had convinced her of such a thing."
Gwynne opened her mouth to ask more questions about her mother when the sound of blades hitting one another rang out into the air. Gwynne frowned as she looked to where the sound was coming from, her eyes glancing over at Ned beside her. He looked as surprised at the noise as she was. She stayed behind him as he walked closer, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he went to investigate the sound.
The went past the tall trees, the bushes reaching up to rub against Gwynne's hips as she silently moved behind Lord Stark. She poked her head out from behind him when he came to a stop, a silent sigh of relief leaving her lips when she saw who was sword fighting.
"Come on, bastard. Is that all you have?" Theon mocked as his blade forced Jon back another step.
Ned cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the way Theon had spoken to his son. Ned had no idea what people said to Jon Snow when he wasn't around, but Ned would rather have the Gods damn him to the seven hells for eternity than to overhear someone speak to Jon in such a way. The two young men stopped sword fighting and turned to face Lord Stark as he looked on unimpressed.
"Father."
"Lord Stark."
"I trust you boys are being careful with your swords."
"Yes, my Lord." Both Jon and Theon answered, their hair clinging to their faces from the sweat that covered them.
"Theon, come with me. Jon, I trust you'll bring Gwynne back to the castle safely."
"I will, father." Jon assured Ned as Theon left his side. Jon noticed the sneer Theon shot him as he walked away but forced himself to ignore it. Ned turned away from him to walk side by side his ward, speaking in a hushed voice so no one else would hear.
Gwynne watched Theon leave, his eyes avoiding hers as if she had the plague and making eye contact would have him fall ill. She shrugged it off and closed the distance between herself and Jon.
"So, did you win?"
Jon smiled slightly and slid his sword back into its sheath. "I probably would have if you hadn't interrupted our sparring session."
Gwynne walked with Jon, moving further away from the castle. "So, you lost then?"
"What were you and father doing all the way out here?" Jon asked, changing the subject to protect his manhood.
"He was telling me about my parents." Her fingers grasped at the fabric of her dress as her mind drifted aimlessly. "He said my mother was beautiful."
"I have heard that throughout the kingdom. Everyone says your mother was a beauty. Perhaps that's where you got your looks from." Jon felt like stabbing himself with his own sword the moment those words left his lips. He felt his heart throb in his chest, the beating growing dangerously loud in his ears. His cheeks began burning and suddenly he was thankful for the hours he had spent sparring with Theon. She wouldn't notice the new sweat lathering his features.
Gwynne stopped walking, forcing Jon to stop a few steps in front of her. She tilted her head to the side as she watched the back of his head. "You think I'm beautiful?"
Jon kept his back turned to her to hide the blush that burned at his cheeks. He shrugged, trying to play the comment off smoothly. "I suppose you're not that bad."
Gwynne reached out and playfully punched Jon's arm at his comment. He laughed and finally turned to her, clutching his arm as though she had just broken it. "What was that for?"
"I'm 'not that bad'?" She asked, taking a step closer to him so she could stare straight into his eyes. She put her hands on her hips to pretend she had taken offence as she cocked an eyebrow.
"Well, I've seen better, but-"
Gwynne's mouth fell open as she reached forward and pushed him so hard he stumbled backwards and fell onto the ground. He found himself laughing so hard he could barely hold back the tears that blurred at his eyes. He watched her crouch down in front of him, leaning forward so he could hear her over his own laughter.
"I'll have you know that there are many men who wish to wed me."
His laughter came to a slow stop as he studied her features carefully. He edged closer to her, leaving barely any space between them as he shot back. "Oh? And yet you're still not wed. Perhaps there aren't that many men who desire you after all."
"Jon! Look, just because you lost to Theon-"
This time it was Jon who pushed her. She stumbled onto her behind and let out a gasp at the unexpected fall. She glared at him from under loose strands of her hair and jumped at him, throwing him to the ground as she sat on top of him. She grabbed his wrists and pinned them at either side of his head, a cocky smile of victory on her lips.
"It seems that you aren't so strong now, are you Jon Snow?"
Jon grunted as he moved quickly underneath her, turning the tables and throwing her onto her back. He leaned over her, one hand resting on her hip and the other on the back of her head, protecting her from the impact against the hard ground. "I should say the same for you, Gwynne."
The laughter soon faded as they found themselves in a compromising position. Jon could feel her breathing under him, her breasts gently caressing his chest with each breath she took. He couldn't pull himself away from her eyes as he stared into them, trying desperately to find something to say.
Gwynne didn't say anything when she felt his hand slowly leave the back of her head, move to cup her cheek. She had gotten lost in his eyes and found herself unable to move, unable to think. All she knew was that Jon Snow was lying on top of her, the warmth of his hands radiating through the gloves and taking over all her senses.
Kiss me, Jon Snow. Kiss me.
He let out a heavy sigh and pulled away from her, leaving her with a confused and hurt look on her face. He sat on the ground, lifting a knee up to rest his arm over it as he stared intently at the grass around him, almost ashamed to look at her directly. He heard Gwynne shuffle beside him, pulling herself up so she was sitting on her knees and felt her eyes on him. He felt them burn right through him as he tried to calm his racing heart.
"I'm sorry." Was all Jon could muster up at the moment. He hung his head in shame. What was he thinking by throwing her onto the ground and mounting her like she was a common whore? If her father had lived to see that he would've cut Jon's head off without a moment of hesitation. If his own father saw that…Jon shuddered at the mere thought.
Gwynne cleared her throat. You could cut the tension around them with a sword. She found herself speechless and being so close to Jon had left her breathless. She waited for him to turn to her, to grab her and crush his lips against his. She could almost taste him on her when she licked her dry lips. It was only then that she noticed they were quivering.
Two men had her in the same position no more than a few years back. At the time, she couldn't have been more terrified. She could still remember her mind screaming at her, demanding that she fight against them, determined not to let them have her. She would have sooner died than let them have any part of her body.
She had been waiting for the fear to overwhelm her body once she found herself in the same situation with Jon. She had expected it, had almost accepted the feeling that would soon consume her. Only it never came. Instead, she found herself aching for his touch, for the feel of his lips against hers, his warm tongue in her mouth as he claimed it as his own.
As Gwynne battled with her racing thoughts, Jon had gotten to his feet beside her. He held a hand out towards Gwynne, his eyes peeled to the ground as though she were the most disgusting thing in the world.
Hesitantly, she took his outreached hand, and wasn't surprised when neither one of them had said a word on the long walk back to the walls of Winterfell.
"I saw Robb with that girl again today." Gwynne puffed angrily, crossing her arms over her chest as her feet dangled off the edge of Jon's bed.
He glanced up and cocked an eyebrow at her curiously. "So?"
Gwynne let out an aggravated sigh and continued to kick her feet back and forth. Her eyes fell to the floor as tears burned at them. With every beat her heart took, it felt as though a blade of a knife was piercing through it.
Ever since they were children Gwynne had been smitten with Robb Stark. Everyone in Winterfell saw it. Well, everyone except Robb himself. He was oblivious to the way she followed him around everywhere, on his heels like a puppy loyal to him and only him. She had even overheard Ned and Cat speaking about it once behind closed doors.
Gwynne knew she shouldn't have been eavesdropping on the Lord and Lady of Winterfell, but when she heard them speak of the young girl and Robb, Gwynne couldn't help but put her ear to the old wooden door, listening carefully to every word spoken on the other side.
"I think they'd be a great match for each other, Cat. They've grown up together and they get along wonderfully. They already know everything about one another. There are no secrets between them, which I think will only make the love between them all the stronger."
"You know I love Gwynne as though she were my own child." Gwynne bit her lip, her body shaking violently against the door as she heard the doubt in Lady Stark's voice. "But is that really a wise match for Robb? He is our first born, the heir to Winterfell. He should be married to a Lady, to someone of noble birth. Not your guardian's daughter."
Tears stung at Gwynne's eyes as Lady Stark's words pierced her heart. Suddenly, she understood how Jon felt every time Cat spoke to him. She had never understood how much words could hurt until she heard them being used against her.
"I can't think of a better match for our first born and the heir to Winterfell." Ned argued calmly. "She may not be of noble birth, but she's of the North, and will be a Lady sooner than we both realize. I believe that Robb and Gwynne are meant to be together, Cat. Think it over. They're still children; we've plenty of time before this decision should be made final."
"Gwynne? You okay?"
Jon's voice snapped Gwynne back to reality as she turned to look at the young man sitting beside her. She forced a smile and bit back the tears, trying to calm her racing heart.
"He'll never marry me. I'm not of noble birth. I'll never be good enough for Robb Stark, future heir of Winterfell." The words threatened to choke her as they finally slipped through her lips.
Jon wished he could have said something to make her feel better. He understood how she felt. He understood it all too well. Growing up he knew he could never really amount to anything. Being a bastard and having the world know it had destroyed any hope he ever had of living a fulfilled life. No woman would ever want to lay with him, let alone wed him and bring a bastard's child into the world.
He would never be the man his half brother was destined to be. One day the land of Winterfell would be his and he would rule over it as proud and strong as their father had before him. He would take a wife and he would father many children. Robb's future was exactly the opposite as Jon's and it killed him every time he thought of it.
"I'm sorry, Gwynne." Jon moved closer to the young girl so their legs were touching. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer so her head was leaning against his shoulder.
"That Shannon girl isn't of noble birth. Her parents are commoners. She doesn't even deserve to be in Robb's presence. I don't understand why he won't look at me the way he looks at her." Gwynne scoffed angrily.
Jon's fingertips absentmindedly tightened around Gwynne's shoulder. Nothing hurt him more than to hear Gwynne's heartbroken words. The truth was, over the years, Jon had fallen in love with the young girl he had grown up with. In truth, they were only eleven years old and neither had a clue to what love was. But Jon knew that he was in love with her.
But she only had eyes for his brother. And who could blame her? Why fall for the bastard, a boy who would grow into a man who had nothing to offer, when you could fall for the heir of Winterfell and have a life of luxury and power?
"Maybe he would like me better if I were more…experienced." Gwynne said suddenly.
She pulled away from Jon even though he kept his arm wrapped around her shoulder. She looked into his wide eyes and smiled sweetly.
"Teach me how to kiss, Jon Snow."
Jon nearly choked on the air in his throat. He stared at her, waiting for her to burst out laughing and playfully punch his shoulder, reassuring him that it was just a joke to lighten the mood. She always joked to lighten the mood.
But she just stared back at him with nothing but determination in her eyes. She wasn't joking about this. She wanted him to kiss her, to teach her how to kiss. As if he knew anymore about it than she did.
"I…" Jon couldn't find any more words. They all seemed to get lodged in his throat as they tried to leave his lips.
Gwynne reached forward and cupped his warm cheeks in the palm of her hands. She leaned forward, inching towards Jon's trembling lips.
"You're not scared, are you, Jon?" She teased quietly. "Kiss me, Jon."
With a trembling hand, Jon reached forward and took a steady hold of her neck. He pulled her closer so there was no space between them. When their lips finally met, his body froze with fear. It took him a few seconds to compose himself before deepening the kiss.
He hated himself for so many reasons in that moment. She would have to live out the rest of her days knowing her first kiss had been with a bastard. He knew she would look back on it eventually and despise herself for being so desperate to have Robb that she kissed his brother, the bastard. But nothing hurt him more than to know that she was merely kissing him as practice before she kissed the one she wanted. His brother.
This meant nothing to her. He was just a stepping stone, someone she intended to practice with to perfect the art of kissing until she could kiss the one her lips truly craved for.
He felt a lump swell in his throat as the kiss grew more intense. His mind screamed at him to pull away from her, to stop letting her use him, but his body refused to budge. He had dreamed about this, about her lips against his, for years. He wasn't about to pull away from her, even though he knew he was nothing but a tool to her.
When they finally broke the kiss, both of them were breathless as they stared at each other. There was something in her eyes, something Jon couldn't identify. He had never seen a look like that before in his life. She looked…torn. Jon could only hope that the look on her face was a result of now finding herself torn between two brothers.
The bastard and the Lord. The Gods would only know which she would choose. But something told Jon that it wouldn't be him.
Jon awoke abruptly from his dream and shot up in bed. He felt something shift in his lap and realized that he was stiff from the memory of her sweet kisses. He could almost taste her on his lips when he brought a shaky hand up, his fingertips scraping against his bottom lip.
That was the first time he had kissed someone. He had many restless nights after that. He tossed and turned in his bed for hours, picturing her lips on his again, her warm breath against his face. He could almost feel her lying beside him, their bare skin pressed against each other for warmth throughout the cold night.
He had tried to forget her lips throughout the years. He knew that they could never truly be together, so it seemed like the logical thing to do. So he tried to get over her by going to a brothel.
Theon had convinced him to give his favourite whore, Ros, a try. Theon had even paid for Jon's time with her himself, telling him that it would be worth every ounce of coin that Theon had tossed into the bastard's hand.
And Jon had believed that up until he found himself in a room in a brothel with a whore named Ros. When she kissed him, it felt empty, forced even. Jon knew that she was only doing this because he had paid her to, he could feel it in every move and every word she spoke.
He felt nothing inside of him when she kissed him. He felt disgusted with himself when she moaned into his mouth, whispering his name over and over again. This was wrong. So wrong. Every inch of his body was yelling at him to get dressed and leave with whatever dignity a bastard could have.
He watched her undress slowly, inching the fabric off her slender body as if to entice him. But when he watched her bare herself to him, all he could think of was Gwynne.
He pictured her standing before him, naked and waiting for him. He let his mind drift as he closed his eyes, picturing her warm, gently touch on his bare skin as she gave herself to him in a way that no other man would ever have.
When he heard her call his name, his eyes shot open, his heart freezing within his chest. But when he looked in front of him he realized that the woman touching him wasn't Gwynne.
Ros watched his cautiously, smiling as if unsure. "Are you alright, Jon? Would you like to join me on the bed? It's much more comfortable than this chair. Unless this is where you would like to take me."
Jon stood up off the chair and pushed her hands off his bare chest. He reached for his shirt and quickly threw it over himself, keeping his eyes peeled to the ground as a wave of shame washed over him.
"I'm sorry, this was a mistake. Keep the money and please don't speak of this to anyone."
"I won't, my Lord." Ros assured him.
Jon shot a glance over his shoulder when he heard her call him "Lord". He couldn't tell if she were mocking him or not, but he decided it was best to leave the brothel before he found out. This was enough humiliation for one day, Jon decided as he exited out the front door.
Jon hadn't been with another woman since. He hadn't touched one, nor had he let one touch him. Not that women were lining up to touch Lord Stark's bastard son, anyway.
The sun had already risen and Jon found himself dreading getting out of bed and starting his day. His thoughts were haunting him, mocking him, as he dressed and made his way out of his bed chamber. He didn't feel like eating so he avoided the dinning hall and ventured through the streets of Winterfell.
He found himself walking beyond the walls, drifting aimlessly with no knowledge of where his legs were taking him. He lost track of how long he had been walking, clearly caught up in the thoughts and questions that bombarded him.
"Come here, little beauty!" A soft voice called from a distance.
Jon stopped dead in his tracks and strained to listen. He knew that voice; he would have known that voice anywhere. But what was she doing all the way out here? And who was she talking to?
When he heard her groan in frustration, he followed the sound until he came across her and the white horse he and Robb had shown her a few days ago. He stopped and continued to watch her, his body hidden in the foliage of the forest that surrounded Gwynne and the wild horse.
Gwynne's snow white dress matched the powerful beast's coat as it danced around the girl, as though it were playing with her. She laughed as she chased after the horse, whispering soft words of comfort to the beast to try and entice it to come to her.
Jon kept a hand on the hilt of his sword and watched the wild horse carefully. He cursed Gwynne silently for being as foolish as she was right now. Did she think this was some kind of joke? Did she not understand that a wild horse could kill her without a moment of hesitation? What was she trying to prove by acting so foolishly?
"Okay, my love. Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." Gwynne assured it sweetly.
With her hands raised up by her head, she slowly sunk to the ground beneath her. She rested the palms of her hands on the grass by either side of her and tilted her head back to watch the horse as it slowly began to calm down.
Jon's breath hitched in his throat as he watched the beast cautiously walk over to her. It towered over her, its great legs easily capable of trampling her to death without any effort. He withdrew his sword, only slightly, but found himself frozen in awe as the horse leaned its head down to nuzzle Gwynne's neck lovingly.
Her giggle floated through the air as she stroked the horse's thick neck. Her fingers didn't tremble as she stroked the beast. "That's a good girl. See? I'm not so scary after all, am I?"
Jon was mesmerized by the sight. Had she truly managed to tame a wild beast in a matter of a few days? How many times had she snuck out here, by herself, to try and calm the beast and to lure it towards her? As much as Jon admired her lack of fear and determination, he couldn't help but feel the need to scold her later on.
Finally, Jon stepped forward, letting his sword fall back into his sheath but never taking his hand away from the handle. He walked carefully, cautious not to scare the horse and have it harm the only girl he had ever loved.
Both the animal and Gwynne heard footsteps approach and looked in Jon's direction. The horse, suddenly startled, jumped away from Gwynne and let out a loud neigh, warning the approaching man not to take another step forward. Jon stopped in his tracks again as Gwynne slowly got to her feet, turning to look at him.
"Jon, what are you doing out here?"
Jon opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by the horse before he could get a word out. The beast turned and ran, darting back into the forest, spooked by the young man's presence.
Gwynne turned and watched the horse gallop away from her, a sigh slipping through her lips. So close. She had gotten so close to taming the horse. The beast hadn't let her touch her before; she had never seemed so calm and sure to approach the young girl. And now she was gone.
"What in the seven hells do you think you're doing, Gwynne? Have you lost your mind?" Jon asked as he came up to her.
"No, I don't believe that I have. Why, have you?"
"This isn't funny. Do you take this as a joke? That horse could have killed you!"
"But she didn't. She's just lonely out here. She just wants company, she wants someone to touch her and love her."
Jon reached forward and grabbed a steady hold of Gwynne's wrist, pulling her towards him. "I've seen you do many foolish things when we were growing up, but this is by far the most foolish thing you've ever done. Coming all the way out here, by yourself, unarmed, to try and tame a wild horse that could kill you without a second thought?"
She smiled, tilting her head up to stare Jon in the eyes, as cocky as ever. "You're just jealous because I tamed her first. Besides, what does it matter to you what happens to me, Jon? I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself."
He wasn't stupid; he knew she could take care of herself. She had too much of her father in her to allow anything to happen to her. She had her parents watching over her, protecting her from harm, ever since the day they had passed. But still, the memory of her lying half beaten in the alley flashed through his mind for the millionth time.
But how many times could she be spared before her parents were unable to protect her? One of these days, they would blink and it would be too late to save her from whatever dangers awaited her. Surely they would only be able to protect her for so long.
"I just don't want anything happening to you, Gwynne. None of us do. You must be more careful in the future. Promise me." Jon held her tighter, his fingertips digging into the skin of her wrist.
If it had been any other man holding her in such a way, she would have been terrified. But she knew that Jon would never hurt her. She trusted him with her life, the same as she trusted Robb. The brothers, along with Lord Stark himself, were the only men she had ever trusted. And no matter how angry Jon seemed in this moment, that thought never faded from her mind.
She bit her bottom lip nervously. Jon was about to force her to make a promise she knew she was never going to be able to keep. Something had drawn her to the wild horse, something that she didn't want to walk away from. But for the sake of her old friend, she nodded and quietly promised him that it would never happen again.
Jon yanked her body closer so she was pressed up against him as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her in place. She rested her hands against his chest as she resting her head against him, closing her eyes and listening carefully to the beating of his heart. She could hear it racing frantically beneath the fabric of his shirt, waiting for it to calm down and beat at a regular pace once again.
But it didn't. In fact, it seemed to beat more frantically with every moment that passed. Finally, Gwynne pulled her head away from his chest, tilting her head to look upon his face.
His eyes were staring straight ahead, as though the most interesting thing in the world was standing behind her and he couldn't tear his eyes away. In reality, she knew that only trees stood behind her and couldn't understand how he could find those more interesting than the girl wrapped in his arms.
"Do you remember our first kiss?" She asked in a whisper. She felt his fingers tense against her skin and couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips.
The truth was, she had been playing their first kiss over and over again in her head ever since they had almost repeated it out here, many years later.
Jon never broke his trance as he nodded solemnly. "I remember. You wanted to practice on me before you kissed my brother."
She could hear the distain in his voice as he spoke and suddenly she felt a ping of guilt. She reached her hands up and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look down at her. "Children say foolish things when they're upset. And as you said earlier, I have done some foolish things in my years. I have no doubt that I've said even more foolish things."
Jon looked down at her, the face that haunted his dreams every time he closed his eyes. Her wide eyes stared back at him, her tongue darting out to lick her lips, as if silently begging to feel his against hers again.
Jon tried to stop himself; he tried to rationalize with his thoughts to walk away before he did something they'd both regret. She wasn't his to kiss. She wasn't his to touch. But still, despite it all, he found himself leaning down to find her lips.
Jon's hands left her shoulders, his fingers finding her hair as he grabbed the back of her head, embracing the way her soft hair felt against his rough fingertips. He felt her grab the fabric of his shirt tightly, trying to pull him closer to her as though it were possible. The only way they could be closer is if he were inside of her.
His cock twitched at the though and he knew that she had felt it against her when she laughed against his lips. He tried to pull away from her, ashamed that he couldn't control his body, but she reached up and quickly grabbed his face, keeping his lips against hers.
She had never seen what lay between a man's legs before, though over the years she had heard many tales. She had also heard many stories of what a woman could do down there that could bring even the strongest man to his knees. She wondered if Jon had ever had a woman touch him or open her legs to him before. She knew he had never fully been with a woman, but surely there were other things he could have done with one.
Gwynne ignored the thoughts as she continued to kiss Jon, her body consumed with the tingles his lips were sending through her entire body. His tongue explored her mouth, tangling with hers as he moaned against her, pressing his hips harder against her.
She pulled away from his lips for a minute and Jon took the opportunity to attack her neck with his lips. He kissed her roughly as her fingers found his long, dark hair. She shut her eyes tightly and a deep, throaty moan slipped through her lips. She moaned his name against his ear, feeling as though her legs were going to give out on her any minute.
Finally, Jon found the strength inside of him to pull away from her intoxicating skin. He rested his forehead against hers, opening his eyes to meet hers as they both gasped for breath. He had expected her to look terrified, to see regret on her soft, delicate features, for allowing Ned's bastard to touch her again. Instead, she looked calm and happy as she smiled up at him. Satisfied, even.
She brought her hands over his as he held her face, his fingers trembling against her warm skin.
Thanks for reading everyone! Drop a review and let me know what you thought!
"If this is what happens when I do something foolish, perhaps I should act like a fool more often."