A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my new reader, Joyce013, who has followed this story! I hope you're all enjoying the journey of Eddard and Amala. There's so much still to come!
-C
He could feel his blood boiling as he watched them dance, his Amala Tully and Jaime Lannister. It ought to have been him out there with her, not some lion, Eddard told himself, and when his gray eyes caught her Tully blue eyes, he turned away. He didn't want to see anymore.
She must have followed him, though, because he could hear her voice calling his name as he made his way back inside. She was quicker than he'd expected, and she managed to slip into the room before he managed to close the door, and he found himself face to face with Amala's Tully blue eyes, her auburn hair, her worried features. She was enchanting him all over again, but he wanted to be angry with her. He didn't want her to charm him into forgiving her so quickly.
"You danced with Jaime Lannister," he said, feeling like a knife was being twisted into his chest as he said it out loud. "Why did you do that to me?"
"You danced with Ashara Dayne," she said softly. "What was I supposed to do? Stand there and smile?"
She must have seen. He'd told Brandon he wanted no part in that, but now... now he wanted to hurt his brother for what he'd caused.
"Amy, I wasn't dancing with her because I wanted to," he whispered. "I... my brother wanted... but you see, he's betrothed and he couldn't... I was talking to her on his behalf. I didn't want to, but... Bran can be persuasive."
She looked confused for a moment, and he could feel his heart racing as she digested his ineloquent explanation. She had to believe him, she had to see the truth him his words, because he couldn't bear for her to believe that he actually would do that to her.
"I am a fool," she whispered, turning away from him, reaching for the door handle, but he grabbed her hand out of instinct, not wanting her to leave, not wanting that to be their parting for the night. Although Eddard found that he didn't really know what he wanted as he touched her hand.
"Please," he whispered in her ear, moving a bit closer to her. "You are no fool, Amy. I am the fool for doing my brother's bidding, against my better judgment."
She hesitated, closing her blue eyes as he brushed a bit of her hair behind the ear he was whispering to. Eddard was torn by the feeling of longing in his chest that he was unfamiliar with. He wasn't sure what he wanted, but he knew that he didn't want her to leave him.
"What did he want of Ashara Dayne?" she asked nervously, turning to face him with questions in her eyes.
Eddard didn't know what had possessed him to do it, but he pressed his lips to her pretty lips, feeling how soft and warm they were against his own.
This was it, this was what he wanted, he realized as she responded to the kiss, turning her body toward his instead of toward the door, and he moved even closer to her, pressing her to the door as his hand tangled up in her auburn hair. She tasted as good as she felt, and he couldn't help but wanting to feel more. The desire in his chest was raging as her fingers brushed his neck and he could feel his cock hardening.
There was a moan, one or both of them, and Eddard thought it might have been him but he couldn't be sure. His hands had begun to move of their own accord, exploring her soft skin, feeling her graceful neck, down her collarbone, and gently sloping to the fabric over her breasts. He was conflicted when he realized that his fingers were itching to get the fabric out of the way. As he struggled with this desire, he squeezed on of her breasts gently through her dress and she did moan into his mouth at that.
Was this what old Jon Arryn had meant about living his life, not always doing the proper thing? What about Amala and her honor?
But if he was marrying her anyway...
The rationality of the argument was so appealing that Eddard found himself pushing it aside hungrily as his fingers moved to the laces of her dress. She stiffened at first, and he paused with his hands linger over the laces but then she relaxed, kissing him even more feverishly, and Eddard's fingers undid the laces almost of their own accord.
His forehead rested on hers as he came to the end of unlacing and he licked his lips lightly as she pulled off the dress, leaving him with little for the imagination of her mouth-watering body. Her smallclothes were clinging seductively to her skin and he could see the full shape of her, could almost feel how each bit of her skin would feel against his fingertips.
Amala ran her fingers down his chest and pulled off his jacket and shirt as quickly as she could, and he tossed them aside, forgetting them before they'd even hit the floor. After all, she'd then begun unlacing his breeches, her eyes full of unbridled curiosity. Could it even be possible that she was as intoxicated with the idea of him as he was of her? Could she be half as eager to see him in naught but skin as he felt to take her smallclothes off her and kiss every bit of her he could reach?
It didn't seem possible but for the hungry way she was looking at him, the desperation in her eyes as she finished the unlacing and pulled his breeches down so that the both of them were there in his room with nothing but their smallclothes to keep their last shred of modesty and honor.
Eddard lowered her onto the bed, crawling on top of her, admiring the way her auburn hair fanned out around her head like a halo, and he pulled his hand up to touch it, running his fingers through a couple of places where it wasn't lying flat enough and was ruining the effect. While he was distracting himself with her hair, though, she pressed her lips to his chest just below the collarbone and he froze, enjoying the sensation of her lips on his skin. He wanted to ask her to move lower, but he couldn't find his voice.
After a brief moment, though, he couldn't stand it anymore and he moved down to press his lips to hers hungrily again, sucking on her lower lip and being rewarded for this impulse by her fingernails digging sharply into his back. Surprisingly, he found he liked the sensation very much. In fact, he heard himself growl slightly when she did it, and she moaned in return, so she must have liked the growl. He was trying to file it all away in his brain in case he needed to know what she liked for some reason later.
Eddard had heard Brandon talk about his conquests with his friends, about the sounds the women made, about how good they felt, the warmth or the softness of their skin, but Eddard had never paid much store by the gossip, never believed that such dishonor could be so good.
But the feel of her soft skin, the smell of her, the warmth of her body in his arms...
Brandon had been right about all of it. And when Amala sighed his name, Eddard thought nothing could sound so good as that.
Brandon was probably off with Ashara Dayne somewhere, but Eddard would have the better night. A fling with a nice enough girl who Brandon suspected didn't have any moon tea on her wouldn't be something Brandon would enjoy.
Amala probably didn't have moon tea with her, granted, but worst case scenario he would marry her in a hurry and the child would be his anyway.
There was something about the thought of Amala carrying their child that made the desire in his chest burn twice as warm, twice as violently, and he pushed her more into the bed, kissing her more viciously, desperate for more of her.
Without even thinking about it he moved from her lips down her body to her breasts, which were more intriguing to him than he'd expected. With a tentative finger he touched the peak of her left nipple, grateful for the sigh that escaped her lips at the contact and he licked his lips, thinking about what her breasts would be used for if they weren't a high lord and high lady, second-born or no - nursing their children. He shivered slightly, pressing his lips where the finger had been, and he was surprised that she moaned softly, enjoying this even more than his finger.
He experimentally touched the tip of his tongue to the point of her breast and she had a sharp intake of breath. The sound drove him forward, trying out several different things with his mouth on one breast and squeezing the other in his hand, enjoying the feel of the weight of her firm flesh in his cupped hand. She was so soft, every bit of her, like the silk of the gown she wore when they first met.
Her fingers began to explore his body and he found himself breathing heavier with each touch. He could feel his cock becoming almost painfully hard and he knew he needed release, and soon. She touched it, the touch fully of a tentative curiosity and it felt so good and then he recalled listening to Brandon's bragging of conquests, the bawdy songs they had heard...
Eddard kissed her gentle lips and worked her legs apart, barely noticing now eagerly she adjusted to every touch and motion of his. His mind was so clouded with desire that he was having a hard time thinking of anything but how good it would feel to be inside her.
She was breathy, throwing her head back as his lips traced down her graceful neck. He could feel her legs squeezing around his waist, although when they had wrapped around him but he knew he loved the feel of it, although he wanted to be closer, closer, ever closer to her. And then he pulled back a little, looking deep into her eyes.
Amala, obviously both desperate and embarrassed, ground her hips against him, obviously desiring that same closeness.
He wondered if she knew what to do even more than he did, or even less. But there was no denying the message in the word she then uttered...
"Please."
The sound of it made him harder than he could have imagined and without another thought he quickly positioned himself in order to enter her, feeling the warmth and wetness of her folds as he found a way to push inside of her, feeling the moist, velvety tightness surrounding his throbbing cock, and she tightened, probably unthinkingly around him. He gasped, kissing her again, enjoying the way it felt, going in a bit deeper until he reached that barrier, her maidenhead.
And how on earth could he bring himself to spoil her so?
And yet how could he stop now?
He couldn't, and so he thrust into her hard, hoping to spare her too much pain, and she did cry out, but he cover her cry with a kiss. He didn't move at all until she began to kiss him back, passionately, thrusting back against him, encouraging him to continue in and out, as he continued to do so. And soon her look of discomfort became one of ecstasy as she began to mutter his name, then gasp it, and the sound was so sweet that Eddard hardly noticed that he was moaning hers as he climaxed.
He gasped, and her hands were on his chest, eyes full of wonder. What was happening? He felt... felt...
"I love you," he whispered.
The words poured out of his mouth and he just looked at her. They were the right words and he found that he meant them, meant them more than he could have believed possible.
"I... I..."
She was a bit dazed, perhaps from what they'd done, but she nodded, muttering his words back to him, kissing his neck. She smiled up at him sleepily.
He wanted to smile at her.
Instead, his lips decided that they wanted another taste of her lips, and so he leaned forward and pressed them to hers, sighing against her lips as she pulled him closer. Their bodies pressed together like this, it felt right. It felt more right than he could have ever imagined.
And he hadn't really spoiled her, he told himself. They were going to get married. Her father couldn't, wouldn't object. She was old enough. She was beautiful. And Eddard was going to be the best husband he could possibly be. There would be no one who could ever say that it was a bad match, and from what he'd learned it would seem that they would be thrilled someone even offered the match.
He wondered, as the kissing heated up again, whether he should tell her of his plans to marry her or if she should wait, but he decided there was no rush. There was no reason really to part his lips from hers, to keep her delicious mouth anywhere but in contact with his hungry mouth.
Eddard could feel himself hardening again and he wondered if that was supposed to happen again so quickly, or if there was something unusual about it. He didn't have long to think about it, though, because she had wrapped her legs around his waist and he ran his hands along the smooth undersides of her thighs as he kissed her, desiring nothing more than to taste her and feel her completely.
"Ned," she moaned, running her fingers into his hair, rolling her hips against his in response to his groan. "Please."
He didn't need any more than that and he was inside her again, lost completely to the intoxicating sensations that were building between them. Jon Arryn had been right. This was living, this was what Eddard Stark had needed.
There would be no going to the Wall after this.
The second time was already so much better than the first, and Amala seemed to think so too, making more eager sounds, gripping at his back as he moved in and out, building friction, listening to the smacking of their skin, the sound of their pants and moans, smelling the mix of their sweat and juices.
Suddenly, Eddard understood his brother so much better. The weight of duty was heavy, but this, this made it all seem lighter than a feather.
When they finished he rolled off her, not wanting to hurt her if he couldn't support his weight. He felt exhausted, and the idea of holding up his own weight on his arms and legs alone was daunting.
Amala turned and smiled at him, running her fingers through his hair.
"I hope I didn't hurt your back," she whispered sheepishly. "I didn't think about it in the time, but Mother always says I should keep my nails shorter-"
"I wasn't hurt," Eddard assured her, smiling. "I rather enjoyed it, in fact."
She smiled a bit brighter, leaning forward to kiss his lips.
Eddard allowed himself to enjoy that kiss, knowing that as soon as he did not have her in his arms he would be forced to think constantly about the consequences of his actions, as well as how to manage them.
Amala rested her head on Eddard's chest and he felt as though it belonged there, running his fingers through the soft auburn hair that tickled his skin, smoothing it against her sweet head.
"I love you," she sighed, and to hear her say it after the heat of the moment made his heart swell.
She loved him.
"I love you, too," he replied, kissing the top of her head gently as they found a comfortable configuration and he pulled up the covers to keep her from catching a chill.
Perhaps it would have been smarter to send her back to her own room, but Eddard rather liked the feel of her body's weight against him, the feel of her in his arms, the knowledge that she was spending the night there, and so if she did not protest he would keep her there until morning.
Amala did not, in fact, protest. Actually, she fell asleep rather quickly, so tired she was from all of the excitement of the day.
Eddard closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to feel every sensation at once, smell every scent.
This could be his every night. Every night he would make love to Amala, every night he could fall asleep tangled up with her. She would carry their children and he would feel her every night against him.
He smiled to himself, so glad that he'd agreed to meet her in the first place. How everyone could have known what a good match they were he didn't know, but perhaps there was something in age and experience that gave that kind of clarity.
Readjusting so that he could sleep more comfortably, Eddard kissed the top of her head once more, resting his head on the pillow and wondering how he would explain her disappearance come the morning. Surely her sister would be upset.
Maybe Brandon would help him cover. After all, with the whole mess caused by dancing with Ashara Dayne, Brandon certainly owed his younger brother quite a lot.
Yes, that was what he would do, Eddard decided, letting his eyelids flutter shut as he began to picture in his mind Amala dressed for their wedding.