A/N- I am sooo thrilled that y'all like this story! It started out simply as my over the top, self-indulgent fantasy...living vicariously through Sansa. Thank you so much for the reviews, I love the feedback, and it gives me a boost to keep going! xoxo


Pierre beat his tail impatiently on the door as Sandor approached it to let him out. He and Sansa had finally gotten themselves out of bed to eat some lunch and to visit his apartment to let him out.

"Are you still up for watching us practice tonight?" Sandor asked as Sansa leaned into him for a hug. She nodded against his chest. "Good. The garage we work in isn't much to look at, but it has a loft that's perfect for all of our equipment."

"Does Beric own the garage where you work?" Asked Sansa.

Sandor shook his head. "No, it belongs to his uncle, but he's got some health problems and is getting on up there in age. None of his daughters are interested in keeping the business going, so it'll probably go to Beric when the old man passes away." He looked down at Sansa and tipped her chin up to him for a kiss. "You know, I'll never get tired of being able to do that, little bird." Sandor whispered to her.

The warm, tingly feeling in Sansa's heart hadn't left since their endeavors in the bedroom that morning. "Good." She whispered back. "Neither will I." Sighing happily, she looked around. "I just love your apartment. I was very surprised when I saw it," she added, winking at him.

Sandor scoffed. "What...were you expecting, posters of naked women and Jack Daniels bottles cluttering the floor?"

Laughing and shaking her head, Sansa teased, "No...not the Jack Daniels bottles."

"Maybe in my earlier years, you would have seen the naked women." Sandor joked with a hearty laugh. "But not now." His arms snaked back around her waist. "I've got the only woman I care to look at right here in my arms."

"Good." Huffed Sansa. "I don't handle competition very well."

"You won't ever have to." Sandor reassured her. "As long as you are loyal and honest to me, I'll be faithfully yours." Leaning his head down, he touched his forehead to hers. "Forever."

The word forever hung in the air. Sansa let the thought sink in to her mind as she ran her hands across the white button up shirt Sandor had changed into. Forever... she thought to herself. For the second time that day, Sansa told herself that this...them, could be real. "I think I'd like that." She whispered finally.

"Me too." A sudden thought crossed Sandor's mind, as he stood with his arms wrapped protectively around Sansa's slim body. It was a long shot, but he figured he would ask anyway. "Sansa, this is probably a stupid question...but do you own a gun?"

Wrinkling her brow, Sansa studied Sandor's dark eyes. What did he have in mind? "No, I don't. But I actually do have my concealed carry permit." Sandor raised his good eyebrow in surprise. "After Ramsay attacked me last fall, my sister, who is quite a weapons specialist, helped me get certified to carry as a Christmas present."

Nodding his head, Sandor walked to his bedroom. He opened the top drawer of his dresser and retrieved a small revolver. He brought it back into the greatroom and handed it to Sansa. Hesitantly, she took it. "Don't worry, it's not loaded." Carefully, Sansa turned the gun over in her hands to examine it. It was solid matte black and lighter than she expected. "It's a Ruger .38. Is it too heavy for you?"

With her elbows straight, Sansa raised it up until it entered her line of sight and held it out. "No, it feels ok."

"I don't have any full cartridges for it right now, I'll have to get some bullets. But when he gets out, if you would like to carry it, you can." He took the gun and placed it back in his drawer. "It would make me feel better if you did. I know I won't always be there to protect you."

"What about you? You won't need it?" Sansa wondered out loud.

"No, I've got another." Sandor shook his head as he went back into his room. From his nightstand drawer, he produced a longer, much heavier looking revolver. "Plus, I've got a 12 gauge shotgun in my closet." He spun the cylinder of the revolver and peered inside as he commented, "Now this one stays loaded, so don't go poking around in my nightstand." He held the gun up for Sansa to see. "Smith and Wesson .44 magnum revolver."

"It's big." Replied Sansa. With a coy smile, she added, "Like you." She gestured with her eyes down to his manhood, which even flaccid, could easily be seen through the jean fabric if you were staring at it hard enough.

Once they made it to the garage, Sansa took in the large expanse of the bay doors that were on the street side of the shop where he worked. "Wow."

Sandor grinned as he slung his guitar case across his other shoulder from the one he had been carrying it on.

"But if you mostly work on big trucks, how do they get in the shop? They're pretty long, and I bet it would be a tight squeeze from the street."

"If they're coming to get worked on, usually they don't have the trailer attached." Sandor explained with an amused look on his face.

Sansa nodded. "Oh. Well I guess that makes sense."

After entering the shop through a side door, Sansa heard Margaery's voice ring out above her. "Sansa!" She looked up to see her friend waving from a loft area above the back of the garage. Sansa smiled and climbed the stairs behind Sandor.

They hugged and sat on the old leather couch in front of the makeshift stage area. The men set up their equipment and began to ready their instruments for practice. "I missed you today," Margaery pouted. "How are you?"

Nodding, Sansa said, "I'm ok." Margaery arched an eyebrow. "Really...I'm good. I spoke to my dad and he's gotten our lawyer to draw up a restraining order for myself, the apartment and the school."

"Good." Margaery said as she fluffed the tousled waves of her ponytail. "I've been worried about you...really." Giving her friend a sad look, she added, "I hate what that prick did to you. And I hate him for it."

"Well, on a more exciting topic...I must tell you about this morning..." Sansa said as she glanced over at Sandor to make sure he wasn't listening. It seemed like he was preoccupied with his guitar.

Eyes wide with elation, Margaery leaned in. "What?!" She hissed.

Sansa edged closer to her friend, who bounced up and down on the couch cushions, awaiting her story. In explicit detail, she told Margaery of her encounter with Sandor.

Smirking at the girls who were engrossed in their gossip, Sandor plugged his guitar in and began to tune it. Over the sound of his instrument, he could hear Margaery's excited shrieking from what he could only guess was a story about their acts of love in Sansa's bedroom that morning. He had never minded if women gossiped about him that way. It didn't inflate his ego, but rather gave him confidence that he otherwise wouldn't have gotten. He was good in bed and he knew it. But what he was happy about at that moment was the fact that Sansa was satisfied with his skills and his body. Satisfied enough to inform her best friend about it, anyway. The men played their songs and shouted corrections at each other over the sounds of the music. Sansa's eyes kept wandering to Sandor as she listened to them play, his hair swaying in response to his head bobbing in time with the music. An ache appeared between her legs as she watched his fingers maneuver nimbly up and down the strings, the same fingers that had expertly helped bring her to an intoxicating release just hours ago. Almost reading her mind, Margaery leaned to Sansa's ear.

"Don't worry...I'm sure there's more where that came from." She said, winking at Sansa. They clapped with earnest when the song the men were playing ended.

Speaking into his microphone, Tormund said, "Thank you, thank you to the two most beautiful ladies in all the lands...for coming to hear Midnight Envy..." For emphasis, he growled the last two words. Sansa caught Sandor staring at her. He winked and opened his mouth in a silent snarl that sent shivers down her spine.

The men played for a few more minutes before taking a break. Beric and Thoros opened the refrigerator in the loft for a cold beer. Tormund flopped on the couch and pulled Margaery into his lap. After unshouldering his guitar, Sandor joined Sansa as she leaned on the railing that overlooked the shop floor downstairs.

"I thought you were going to wear a skirt for me." Sandor's voice rumbled low in her ear. Sansa drew in a sharp breath as he slipped his hand into the back pocket of her jeans and squeezed.

"What would you do with me right now if I had worn a skirt...?"

Lighting a cigarette, Sandor leaned his elbow on the railing. He looked at Sansa and winked. "First, I'd have to rid you of whatever was underneath." He exhaled smoke over the edge of the loft and tightened his grip inside her pocket. "Then we would probably have to make a visit to the office downstairs and draw the blinds...because I would do things I wouldn't want anyone else to see." Sandor eyed her carefully. "Does my smoking bother you?"

Shrugging, Sansa turned her body to face him. "I don't particularly care for it, but I have endured worse habits from men than smoking. If that's your worst vice, I feel like I could live with it."

"Good to know. I've smoked for years and I enjoy it. I'll quit one day...but not today." He turned and slipped the cigarette butt into a discarded beer bottle on a nearby table.

The band practiced for another hour. When they were satisfied with their song "Angel," Tormund called it quits and insisted on eating. "What about Tate's?" He asked in his deep, growling voice.

Sandor shook his head. "Nah, we ate there for lunch today."

"Well how about Crossroads? I haven't been there in a while." Margaery suggested.

"Excellent, I've been craving a good quesadilla burger." Thoros replied with a clap of his hands. Crossroads was an eclectic little restaurant, well within walking distance that was well known for its wings and burgers. While the men were putting their band equipment away, Sansa went downstairs in search of the bathroom. Sandor gestured Margaery over to the loft railing where he was leaning.

"What's up?" Asked Margaery.

"I'd like to take Sansa somewhere special. A first date, I guess you could say. Where does-"

Holding a finger up, Margaery cut him off. "Luwin's. It's her favorite place to eat. She loves the apple wine they have there. Don't let her drink more than three glasses. Four glasses, she'll get sloppy. Lemon cakes for dessert. They are her absolute favorite." Margaery smiled sweetly and raised her eyebrows at Sandor.

After taking it all in, Sandor repeated, "Luwin's, apple wine, lemon cakes...got it." He breathed a heavy sigh. "I just want to...show her that I really do care." Leaning closer, he continued with a lower voice. "She told me about what that bastard did to her. Told me all about it."

Grimly, Margaery looked at Sandor. "That relationship almost ruined her. I hate that man with every fiber of my body." Margaery shuddered at the memory of Sansa laying in the hospital bed, face black and blue, a bandage around her torso. "She really likes you, Sandor.." She paused and looked out over the shop. "The past few days have been the happiest I have seen her in a long time."

That brought a smile to Sandor's face. "Well I really like her too."

An idea suddenly popping into her head, Margaery smiled and narrowed her eyes at Sandor, who grunted in response. "What?" A fresh cigarette hung from his lips.

"I know what you could do if you really wanted to make Sansa happy."

With hope in his eyes, Sandor replied, "Oh yea, what's that?" Gods, woman...please don't say 'quit smoking.'

"Tell her you'd like to be her date for the Children's Benefit Gala."

I think I'd rather quit smoking, Sandor thought as he rolled his cigarette between his fingers, letting the ash fall away. "Oh Gods...that fancy party?"

"That's the one!"

Rolling his eyes, Sandor inhaled and then blew smoke over his shoulder. "I was afraid of that. Fancy parties aren't really my thing."

Having overheard Ros' words at the faculty meeting yesterday, Margaery crossed her arms and used them. "But this is her thing, and she is your new thing. Besides, I've asked Tormund to be my date, so you wouldn't be without a friend."

Upon hearing his name, Tormund leapt to her side. "What's this I hear about a date?" He threw his arms around Margaery and proceeded to lay provocative kisses on her neck.

Laughing, Margaery replied, "You're coming to the gala with me, aren't you?"

"Only if I get to wear a white tuxedo."

Sandor threw his head back and scoffed. "So this is a tuxedo thing?"

Margaery nodded. "Yes it is. Plus, if you donate at least ten dollars, you'll get free drinks."

Narrowing his eyes, Sandor asked, "What kind of drinks?"

"Well they will have a full bar. Alcohol in people's systems means higher bidding for the auction. But you would be under strict orders not to get shitfaced." Authoritatively, Margaery pointed a finger at the men and waved it back and forth between their two faces. Footsteps ascending the stairs could be heard as Sansa made her way back up to the loft. Margaery looked sharply at Sandor. "Don't you dare tell her I said anything to you about the gala."

"My lips are sealed." Mumbled Sandor.

At dinner, Sandor was crossing his fingers that the topic of the gala wouldn't be brought up. He would have no such luck though, because Margaery had busied herself asking Sansa about some of the auction items. "So your father is offering a round of golf at the country club with Mayor Baratheon for the auction? I didn't know Robert played golf."

As she set her drink down, Sansa laughed, "Yes, apparently it's quite a sight."

"Hold up, hold up..." Interrupted Thoros as he held his hands up. "If rounds of golf can be auctioned off, could you auction some of my yoga sessions?"

"Yes, but only if you donate them." Sansa explained. "Your studio would be advertised as a sponsor on the website and on the auction brochure."

"Excellent." Nodding his head and rubbing his hands together, Thoros continued, "Well then, I'd like to donate five sessions of my hot yoga class, Fire Goddess...compliments of Red Yoga."

Sansa smiled. "Thank you, Thoros! That's very generous of you. Just issue some type of certificate for the sessions that can be auctioned and have it to me by the 26th." Wanting to ask him about the gala, Sansa turned her smiling face to Sandor, who was busy with his plate of wings. One thing she had definitely learned about him so far was that he was not to be pestered while he was eating. Especially something he seemed to be enjoying as much as the 'dracarys' flavor wings he had ordered...which he was having to wash down with copious amounts of beer. She turned to Margaery instead. "So do you want to go to Neiman Marcus tomorrow afternoon and pick up our dresses?"

Smiling and nodding, Margaery exclaimed, "Absolutely! I can't wait."

Once everyone was finished with their meals, they went their separate ways. Except for Sansa and Sandor. They walked slowly back to Sansa's building, savoring their last few minutes together before they parted ways for the evening. "You sure you'll be ok tonight?" Sandor asked once they reached her apartment door. He had insisted on accompanying her all the way upstairs. "I don't mind staying to watch over you."

Feeling her face burn with emotion, Sansa looked down and smiled. "I'll be ok." She gazed back up at him and put her hands on his shoulders. "I need to give you time...to miss me." She added. Standing up on her toes, Sansa kissed him on his lips. As she lowered herself back onto her heels, Sandor caught her arms and deepened their kiss. Warmth spread from their point of contact and reached every nerve in his body. The kiss was Sandor's salvation and torture. His salvation in that each moment spent with Sansa was saving him from the horrible pattern of self destructive behavior he had started to fall into again prior to meeting her. She was his torture because each moment he spent with her, he knew they were coming closer and closer to another passionate encounter. So close...but yet so far away. Remembering his conversation with Margaery earlier, he drew his lips away from hers and whispered in her ear.

"What are you doing Friday night?"

"No plans." Sansa replied, shaking her head.

A sly smile crossed Sandor's lips. "Well then, I'd like to take you out. On a date, I guess."

Sansa deliberately arched one eyebrow higher than the other. "Oh...are we dating now?" She asked with a smirk. Even though she meant the question as a joke, she was dying to hear what his response would be.

Sandor grinned wickedly down at her. "I guess we'll know after Friday night..."

That night, Sansa fell asleep with her heart full and a smile on her face.

As her students filed into her classroom Wednesday morning at school, Sansa got a text from Sandor. "Missed you and your gorgeous body last night."

Sansa smiled at her screen and typed. "Missed you too. And your sexy body."

She quickly put her phone in her desk drawer as the assistant headmaster, Bronn Blackwater entered her room. "Good morning, Ms. Stark."

"Good morning Mr. Blackwater." Bronn was not only the assistant headmaster, but the head football coach as well. He also had several connections high within the police department. A jack of all trades, he was a very handy guy to know.

Sansa stood as he approached her desk. "I just wanted to let you know, Tyrion informed me of the situation with, well you know..." He was speaking in a hushed tone so her students couldn't hear him. "I have arranged for Lonny to walk you to your car each afternoon, when he, you know...gets out." The man he spoke of, Lonny, was the school's security guard. Always eager to help, he too was someone you wanted to have around.

"Thank you, Mr. Blackwater, that's very kind of you." Even though all of the teachers were on a first name basis with both the headmasters of the school, they used their proper names when addressing them in front of their students. "I will probably start doing more of my grad school work at home anyway, once that time comes, to avoid being alone up here too long."

Bronn nodded. "Yes, that's probably wise. But you know how to reach me should you ever need me."

Sansa nodded and smiled appreciatively at him.

Bronn turned to leave. "Have a good day, kids."

Sansa's class responded in unison, "Have a good day, Mr. Blackwater."

The morning was dragging on a little slower than Sansa preferred. Her phonics lesson on combination ur took up far less time than she thought it would. She found herself with some rare spare time before their recess.

"Will you read us a book, Ms. Sansa?" Lillian asked, her blonde ponytail being twirled between her fingers. Sansa smiled and walked to the classroom library as her 15 students followed close on her heels.

"What shall it be?" Sansa wondered out loud as she scanned the shelf. She tapped her head, pretending to have a brilliant idea. "I know! Rachel, you are my student of the week...would you like to pick a book out?"

Grinning ear to ear, Rachel stepped around her seated classmates to pick out a book. She reached for one that Sansa recognized instantly. With a soft smile, Sansa took it and read the title to her students. "Florian and Jonquil. You like this one?"

Still smiling, Rachel nodded. Sansa leaned close to the girl. "Me too." She settled into her rocking chair and began the story.

"Once upon a time, there lived a fair maiden they called Jonquil. She was very beautiful and very clever..."

It had been years since Sansa had read the book. She was taken back to her days of innocence, when her mother had read that same book to her over and over until the binding came loose. Thoughts of Sandor flooded her mind as she turned the pages. He was not the Florian in the book, but he could be her Florian.

"And as he gazed upon his fair maiden, the gallant Florian thought to himself 'I think I could believe in love after all'." Sansa closed the book and looked at her children's faces. "And, as with any other fairytale you know, they lived..."

"Happily ever after!" Her students finished for her.

As she knelt to put the book back in its box, Sansa couldn't help but think that she could believe in love after all too. She was sure that her relationship with Sandor would in no way be labeled as a fairytale, but the ending 'happily ever after' seemed like a good thing to look forward to.

"Can we go out to play now, Ms. Sansa?" Asked a small red headed boy named Phillip.

Standing up, Sansa replied, "Yes, go get your snacks and quietly find your spots in line."

It was a beautiful, warm spring day. Sansa smiled as her students ran past her to the playground. She lowered herself onto a bench next to Margaery on the edge of the play area. "I have a date on Friday night."

Feigning surprise, Margaery exclaimed, "Oh really, who with?"

"Sandor, of course. I asked him if that meant we were dating." Replied Sansa, her face growing hot at the memory.

Smiling and propping her elbow on the back of the bench to face her friend, Margaery asked, "Well...what did he say?"

Sansa bit her lip and giggled and imitated Sandor's gruff voice, "He said 'I guess we'll know after Friday'." She glanced at Margaery, who was grinning.

"Well then, I supposed that means you might have a boyfriend again come Friday night."

Sansa's heart started beating a little faster. "I supposed you're right."

"When are you going to ask him to be your date for the gala?"

Shrugging, Sansa looked out over their students playing. "I'm still trying to figure out a good way to ask him. I'm worried he'll say no.

Margaery straightened her sunglasses. "I bet he would say yes."

During the rest of their time at recess, they made plans to go get their dresses that afternoon, and chatted back and forth about how their hair should be worn for the event. As they spoke, though, Sansa's mind was preoccupied with Sandor and his intriguing, dark nature. Sansa considered herself a realist, and liked to imagine the good outcome and the bad outcome of her present situations. She allowed herself to think about what would happen should Ramsay actually break the restraining order and seek her out. She wasn't thinking too much about what Ramsay would do to her, but rather, what would Sandor do to Ramsay? Sansa had no trouble believing Sandor's ominous words... "He won't come near you. If he does, I will kill him."

"Michael, please don't throw woodchips." Sansa called, absentmindedly to one of her boys. The image of Ramsay, bloodied and broken entered her mind. The only thing that she lamented about that thought was what would happen to Sandor if he were to harm him in her defense? Hopefully it wouldn't ever come to that, Sansa finally decided solemnly to herself.

That afternoon dragged on just as slow as the morning had. Sansa texted Sandor again after lunch. "I'm looking forward our date on Friday."

Minutes later, her phone vibrated in her drawer. "Me too." Was all it said. A bit disappointed that he hadn't said more, Sansa slid her phone back into her desk drawer and turned her attention back to her students. For the rest of the day, she kept herself busy with them and their math work, and tried her hardest not to think about Sandor.

When she sat in the front passenger's seat of Margaery's black BMW after school, she hadn't heard anymore from Sandor. Before leaving her room, she had sent him a Snapchat of herself at her desk, making a relieved face saying "Thank goodness it's 3:30!" He had opened it, but had not responded. Trying not to worry about it, Sansa dismissed it from her mind. When they got to Neiman Marcus, Sansa and Margaery went straight to the dresses. When Sansa tried the green dress on, she looked so exquisite, it almost took her own breath away. It fit perfectly. The dress Margaery had picked out was black satin and fit very snug from its sweetheart neckline down to her hips, where it flared out. A slit revealed one of her slim, tanned legs. They spent the rest of the evening shopping for shoes and jewelry that would go nicely with their gala dresses.

The rest of the week went by much like it did on Wednesday. Slow and dragging. Sansa had gotten a bit behind on her schoolwork, and even though she was a bit sad that Sandor had made plans with his friends on Thursday night, she was relieved to get caught up on her papers. She texted back and forth with him occasionally, and they spoke on the phone before bed. He seemed a bit more reserved than usual on the phone though, and it troubled Sansa. It seemed like he had something on his mind that was bothering him. On Friday morning, when she asked him if he still wanted to go on their date that evening, Sandor had said, "Of course, why wouldn't I?"

Friday evening, Sansa spilled her insecurities about her communication with Sandor to Margaery as she did her makeup for their date. "I hope I haven't shared too much with him too soon," Sansa began as she closed her eyes so Margaery could apply eyeliner. "The topic of Ramsay and I is pretty heavy."

Margaery fanned her hand in front of Sansa's face to help the eyeliner dry. "Well, it's something that he should know. Besides, he shared details about his past that were pretty heavy too."

Twisting her mouth to one side, Sansa replied, "Yea, good point." Having sworn her to absolutely secrecy, Sansa had told Margaery the story of Sandor's scars. Margaery had always been very trustworthy, and Sansa knew she could count on her to keep that type of information to herself. "He won't tell me where he's taking me. So I have no idea what to wear."

"Something nice."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "That's a lot of help."

After disappearing into Sansa's closet to rummage for a moment, Margaery came out with a red slip dress with thin straps. "I've never worn it." Sansa commented, looking at the tags. She remembered the occasion for which she had bought it. Ramsay had scheduled a dinner meeting with some coworkers and had asked Sansa to come along. Having been excited to meet some of Ramsay's colleagues, she had gone shopping. But Ramsay had been disappointed in the dress (and had forcefully made his feelings apparent), and had insisted she wear something more classy. Feeling spiteful, Sansa took the dress off the hanger and put it on.

"Wow..." Margaery said, excitedly clapping her hands together. The dress hung loose around her hips as it flared slightly, ending a few inches above her knees. It was just low enough in the front to show off her perfectly cleaved chest. Satisfied with the choice, Sansa sat at her vanity for Margaery to curl her hair. Once her hair hung in loose, but voluminous waves, Sansa stood back and looked in the mirror.

"You look amazing." Commented Margaery.

Sansa slipped her feet into a pair of red pumps, which accentuated her long legs. She smiled at Margaery. "Thank you. It's past seven, he said he would be here at seven." No sooner had she gotten the words out of her mouth, a text came through her phone. "I'm outside your building."

Sandor had been nervously pacing the sidewalk for about ten minutes before he decided to let Sansa know he was downstairs waiting. The Uber he had ordered sat waiting in his sedan, letting his meter run. Not seeing her for the past two nights had been torture for him. Having had all he could stand, he had taken himself in hand just an hour earlier after work to relieve some stress. As he had stroked himself, his mind had been possessed by the memory of Sansa's pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. The release was almost instant, but unfortunately hadn't helped with the stress of performing well on their first official date. The whole idea of this asinine gala thing had him flustered. He had complained about it to Tormund, claiming to not like crowds of people or being in front of crowds. Tormund had countered his excuse, bringing up all their nights spent in bars, and playing in crowded taverns. During the later half of the week, Sandor had once again considered seriously calling the whole thing off and finding some excuse to end things. No, he had thought, remembering his promise, I can't do that to her. This isn't Audrina, or Rebecca, or Vickie, or fucking Daisy...this is Sansa Stark, and she deserves someone who will fucking try. And try he had. Sandor had gone to the barber shop and had his beard neatly trimmed. Meticulously, he had combed his hair until he was satisfied with how it fell. He had cleaned his boots, put on a pair of nice blue jeans and a dark grey long sleeve pullover. He caught his reflection in the glass window of the apartment lobby. Turning his head so he couldn't see the scarred side, he thought I don't look so bad, I guess. Sandor put out the cigarette he had been smoking in the ashtray on top of the trashcan. He took out his phone and texted Sansa that he was here. Another five minutes passed before Sansa finally emerged through the front door. All of Sandor's doubts and insecurities faded away for the moment when he saw the way she smiled at him. It was a shy, but sweet smile. The dress she had picked out was fucking phenomenal. It showed off her long, perfectly shaped legs, and her breasts strained gently against the low neckline. Her alluring eyes looked him up and down as she approached. Sandor help up a finger and spun it around, signaling her to twirl. With a wider smile, she stopped and slowly turned in a circle.

All Sandor could do was stare stupidly. "You look so beautiful." He held out his large hand for her. Blushing at his compliment, Sansa laid her dainty hand in his.

"Thank you, Sandor. You look rather handsome yourself."

Before leading her to the car, Sandor laid one hand on her hip and brought his other to rest on the back of her neck. "You're beautiful."

Sansa laughed and bit her lip. "You already said that..."

"Well, you make a man forget things." Shutting out the rest of the world momentarily, Sandor laid his lips on Sansa's for a heated and heartfelt kiss.

When the driver pulled up in front of their destination, Sansa turned to Sandor, thrilled. "You're taking me to Luwin's?!"

"Nope, just the dumpsters out back to see whatever's been thrown away." Sansa narrowed her eyes and smirked as he laughed. "Of course we're going to Luwin's. It's your favorite, isn't it?" He corrected with a wink.

Sansa slipped her arm in his as they walked up the wooden walkway to the front door. "But how did you..." Het voice trailed off. "You must have spoken to Margaery." Sandor smiled at her realization. Well known for their steaks and seafood, Luwin's was one of the priciest and oldest restaurants in King's Landing. It sat at the bottom of the hill that the ancient Red Keep sat on, overlooking Blackwater Bay. Sandor had made reservations for 7:30, which they were right on time for. Wide eyed, the hostess eyed Sandor suspiciously, paying close attention to his face. As they walked to their table, the stares continued. Gods, people are so rude, Sansa thought, as she caught person after person turning their heads at Sandor as they walked by. They were seated on the patio, which overlooked the rippling water. The sun setting off to the west bathed the evening with a golden red light. True to what Margaery had said, Sansa ordered a glass of apple wine. Sandor chose Kettleblack Stout. Kettleblack Co. was a small brewery in King's Landing. The dark beer from there was amongst his favorites.

"What's good here?" Sandor asked as he scanned the menu. "I've never been here."

"Everything." Sansa replied, as she refreshed her memory with the menu as well. The last time she bad been here was with Ramsay on their one year anniversary. When they dated, he had an irritating habit of ordering Sansa's food for her. That evening had been no different. After dinner, the night had not gone well.

"Well that's good to know." Sandor grunted.

"Father usually gets the prime rib whenever he comes. He says it's the best in the city."

Nodding, and settling his mind on the 16 oz. prime rib with a loaded baked potato, Sandor closed the menu and set it down. "That's what I've heard."

Sansa ordered the petite filet with steamed vegetables. Teasingly, she questioned Sandor's steak preference. "Rare? You and my father both will surely perish form food poisoning one day."

Rolling his eyes, Sandor chuckled and drank from his glass of beer. "I'll survive somehow, I always have."

Sandor was pleasantly content with how well the date was going. Sansa told him about parts of her childhood, her years in college, and her reasons for becoming a teacher. Sandor tried his best to match her happy childhood stories with the cherished few memories he had from his. Somewhere between their salads and end of the main course, Sandor had made up his mind to suck it up and bring up the dreaded gala. "So you and Margaery went and got your dresses for that thing?" He inquired as Sansa dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

"Yes!" She exclaimed enthusiastically. She was on her second glass of apple wine and Sandor could tell she was getting a slight buzz. He hoped she wouldn't order a third glass. "We also got shoes, jewelry, and clutches to go with them." Sansa had to explain to Sandor what a clutch was.

"Ooooh!" Sandor mocked in a girlish voice with a sly smile on his face. Sansa scoffed at his mockery and they both shared a hearty laugh.

"So you've got the dress, the shoes, the jewelry, your bloody tiny handbag with no strap..." Sansa had nodded her head at each item he listed and giggled at his echo of her explanation of what a clutch was. "But no date..."

Hearing his words sent Sansa's stomach flipping. She sat, frozen in place. Finally, she said quietly, "No...no date, I'm afraid."

"Hmmph." Grunted Sandor. He picked up his beer. As he brought it to his lips, he said, "Whatever will you do?"

Feeling rather sheepish, Sansa shrugged. "I don't know."

Sandor set his glass down and took her hand and squeezed it. Taking a deep breath, he let the question flow from his lips. "Would you like for me to go with you?" Sansa's heart leapt. "I know I'm not much for people to look at, bu-"

A bit louder than she had intended, Sansa cut him off. "Yes!" She cried, happily. A hand flew to her mouth when she realized people had turned their heads.

Shaking his head, Sandor snickered. "Gods, Sansa...people are going to think I just proposed to you or something."

A genuinely happy smile appeared on Sansa's lips. "I'm sorry, Sandor, it's just that...I was so worried about how to bring that up. I've wanted you to be my date ever since we first hung out in my apartment that night."

"Yes, well...I'm not sure how I'll do at that sort of thing. I'm not the most social being in the world."

"You won't have to do anything." Sansa reassured him. "Just show up, have fun, and that's it. Margaery has invited Tormund to come." With an impish look in her eyes, Sansa leaned forward and added, "But you'll have to rent a tuxedo."

Her statement elicited a massive eye roll from Sandor. Fuck, I had forgotten about the damn tuxedo. "Well, you'll have to help me with that."

Sansa squeezed his hand that she was still holding. "I would love to."

Feeling as though she was lighter than air, she strolled on Sandor's arm down the boardwalk that connected Luwin's to other businesses, bars, and restaurants. After their lemon cakes for desert, Sandor had paid for their meals and suggested they take a walk. "I'm not kidding, Sansa, I need you to come with me to choose a damn tuxedo."

Sansa laughed and leaned her head against his bicep. "How about next Tuesday? We can go to the place that my dad gets his formal wear from."

"Whatever works."

On the ride back to Sandor's apartment, Sansa found herself unable to keep her hands off of him. She wasn't sure if it was the effects of the sweet apple wine, or her own lustful urges. As she leaned in to kiss his neck, her hand found its way to his knee. Stealing a quick glance at the driver to make sure he wasn't watching, Sansa slowly slid her hand higher until her hand grazed his groin. The car was only lit for seconds at a time by the occasional street lamp. Gently, she squeezed the large bulge. Sandor roughly pressed his hand to hers and massaged it over the area where his cock was starting to swell. A warm feeling seized Sansa's body as he worked her hand back and forth across the fabric. Not giving a damn about the driver, Sandor groaned loudly, drawing giggles from Sansa's mouth. When they arrived at his apartment, he hastily paid the driver and slammed the door. His key skidded off the metal of his doorknob again and again as he attempted to unlock it with his hands, shaky with anticipation. It finally opened and they stepped inside. As soon as the door was closed and locked, he pushed Sansa up against it and laid claim to her mouth. Their tongues met and danced as their hands reached for each other's bodies. Sandor lifted one of Sansa's legs and hooked it over his hip. He slid his hand up the silky expanse of her thigh until it reached the warmth between her legs. When be brushed his fingers against the lacy material of her thong, he found she was already saturated from arousal. He lifted her other leg and she wrapped them around his body. Their mouths never missed a beat as he carried her into his bedroom. Sandor had laundered his sheets earlier in the week and had made his bed before picking up Sansa for their date. Sansa squealed with delight as he gently threw her onto his bed. He kicked off his boots before crawling on top of her. Sansa followed suit with her heels. Slowly, Sandor slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders. Shrugging the material away, Sansa revealed a lacy black strapless bra. The round tops of her breast pushed against the garment, begging to be freed. Sandor pulled the dress down the rest of the way. Her lacy black thong matched the bra. Without hesitation, Sansa reached for the buckle on Sandor's belt. They fell back to the bed together and kissed with uncontrollable fervor. Once his belt was undone, Sandor unburdened himself of his pants. Sansa began pulling at his shirt.

"Get rid of this..." She breathed frantically against his neck.

Sandor couldn't help but laugh at her urgency. "I'm trying!" He pulled the shirt over his head and tugged his underwear down as well.

Finally rid of all his clothes, Sandor busied himself with taking Sansa's undergarments off. Sansa raised herself up slightly so he could unclasp her bra. He tossed it aside and took in the marvelous view of her ample chest. Her nipples immediately tensed and drew into perfect, pink peaks when the cool air hit them. Leaning over, Sandor took one in his mouth and sucked while he tweaked the other with his fingers. Gently, he bit down, causing Sansa to writhe beneath him. He raised himself up again and hooked his fingers in her lace thong, savoring the image as he pulled down slowly. Her body was exquisite, covered with the most delicate soft skin that seemed to glow as if she were lit from within. Suddenly remembering that he had to breathe to stay alive, Sandor sucked in a huge gulp of air. He leaned down and trailed kisses down her neck to her stomach. When his lips brushed against her scar, a wave of emotion seared through Sansa's body. He kissed it as if he were trying to heal her, trying to erase the painful memory of her ordeal. Sandor finally continued his kissed down to the point where her legs met, sending tingles and shivers vibrating through Sansa's body. Starting at her knees, he glided his hands up the smooth skin of her thighs until they reached her hips. Roughly, he pulled them towards his face and quickly allowed his tongue to find its way to her glistening slit. Sansa cried out as his tongue pressed up against her clit. With his finger, he spread her lips apart to gain better access. Pausing, he looked down to examine her. Her woman's area was sheer perfection; made of warm, pink folds that were soaked with her sweet juices. The skin of her lips felt like the softest velvet as he lightly eased his fingers over the area. He dipped a finger inside her hot, tight cunt, causing Sansa to squirm with pleasure. As Sandor worked his long finger in and out, he could feel her incredible tightness. The only thing he could think of was how good it would feel to sheath himself inside her. His tongue worked its way around the sensitive area of her clit, licking and sucking. Suddenly, Sansa couldn't take it any longer. She had to have him inside of her. She had to feel what a real man felt like. Sandor could feel her pulling at him, urging him to rise from his position between her legs. Reluctantly, he lifted his face and wiped it, and brought his body up to meet hers. Sansa ran her fingers through his hair and stopped when she reached the back of his head, locking her eyes with his.

"I want you..." she whispered, "...inside..."

Heart pounding, Sandor searched her face, which was flushed from their foreplay. "Are you sure?" Even though Sansa had made clear that she wanted to take things slow, Sandor found himself thinking, please be sure...please say yes. Instead, he was surprised when he heard himself say, "What about taking things slow?"

Sansa bit her lip and looked away. When she found his eyes again, he was looking at her with such fiery intensity, she thought for sure she would burst into flames. She had never been more sure of anything in her life. Slowly, she turned her head back to Sandor and met his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure...make love to me..."

Love, Sandor thought. Make love to me... He replayed the words over and over in his head as he firmly pressed his lips to hers. He knew that Sansa hadn't meant it in the sense that he had interpreted it, but it still ignited his already intense feelings even more. That word had not been uttered by him since his time with Audrina. Even then, it took months, almost a year into their relationship before he had said it back. Sandor knew he had been steadily slipping closer and closer to the precipice, and he realized he was about to fall. The kiss remained gentle, soft and slow as he touched her face. Sandor swallowed the groan of pleasure that slipped from her mouth. It's time.

Readying himself for what was to come, Sandor leaned back on his heels and stroked his cock. "Are you ready for me?"

Sansa nodded. Seeing his enormous erection, hungry for her body made her marginally nervous. She allowed herself to wonder if she could handle it all. "Be gentle." She pleaded.

"Of course." Sandor leaned down and kissed her. Sansa could taste herself on his lips. It was so naughty and thrilling to kiss him just minutes after he had lapped hungrily at her cunt. Sandor reached down and grasped his cock. He placed the head at her opening, which was slick with anticipation. He could not believe he was finally getting to do this with Sansa, the woman of his dreams. Before meeting her, he hadn't even realized that a woman of her nature would be what he so desperately needed. He slowly slid the tip up and down along her slit, teasing it. "Ready?" He asked.

"Yes." The intense feeling of Sandor's cock pressing and sliding against her lips almost caused her to come undone right then. Eager for the moment, Sansa's hips lifted slightly to keep the contact with him. She could not disguise the hunger that was flashing in her eyes. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he massaged the fat head of his shaft against her swollen clit in smooth, slow circles.

Sandor slowly eased the tip in. He knew he was going to love this. Keeping his eyes on Sansa, he pushed in a little further. He could feel her walls stretching as he started to fill her. Sansa squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth open in a perfect circle. "Just relax and breathe." Sandor coached. As he felt her body relax, he placed a hand on either side of her body. Sansa reached up and put a hand on the scarred side of his face. Their eyes met. An unspoken feeling they had not yet recognized passed between them as they gazed at each other. Emotions high, Sandor kept sliding his throbbing hardness in. She was tight. Tighter than he'd ever had before. So tight Sandor wasn't entirely sure he was going to fit. But her walls were slippery with her juices and he slid the rest of his cock in easily. Sansa gasped at the feeling. She could feel every inch inside of her, filling her up, stretching her in the most amazing way. "Are you ok?" Sandor asked. Desperately, Sansa nodded, pleading for him in her mind to keep going.

Sandor slowly started to rock his hips to and away from her, pumping his length in and out. Sansa clung to him, her fingernails digging into his arms. Sandor began to quicken his pace, but remained gentle. More than once in his life, he had been overly selfish in bed with a woman he had not truly cared for, being far too rough, or not wanting to put forth the effort to finish her. But this time was different. Attention had to be paid if Sansa was to enjoy their first time. Yearning for his body to be closer to hers, Sandor lifted her torso towards his and sat his body back on his heels. Sansa's legs stretched out behind him as he held her body close to his. Sandor put his hand under her bottom and guided her hips up and down. Sansa let her head fall back in ecstasy. The feeling of this man who was so seductive and alluring, inside her, stretching her to the limit, was almost more than she could handle. The burning, pleasurable feeling was spreading once more. She gyrated her hips on his cock, tingling everywhere that Sandor touched inside of her. She quickened her movements and started to feel that delicious, throbbing sensation that was stemming from where he was inside and beginning to radiate throughout the rest of her body. "Oh Sandor!" Sansa gasped as she clutched his broad, powerful shoulders. She wanted more of it. She had to make it last. She wildly thrust her hips at him, creating friction where they met. Sandor felt the walls of her cunt throb and contract around him. He stifled her orgasmic scream with his lips. Her clenching walls and the sounds of her moans were bringing him to his own peak. Sansa's body was still shaking with her release as he felt his own orgasm about to rip through his body. "Where-" he groaned, about to cum, "Do you want me to pull out?"

"No!" Sansa cried. "I want to feel you."

Hearing those words coming from Sansa's sweet mouth was enough to push Sandor over the edge. He strained his hips against hers and he gasped as he reached his peak. Sansa felt his cock pulsating and felt his warmth spurt inside of her. The feeling of her walls still clenching around his throbbing cock was enough to keep her own orgasm simmering through her core. Once her body calmed, a sigh tore from her lips and she fell on to his chest. Sandor wrapped his arms around her and kissed her skin everywhere his lips could reach. He twisted his body to lean back on the bed, Sansa's weight on top of him. They laid together, still coupled, catching their breath.

Sansa traced a finger along Sandor's collar bone. "So that's what sex is supposed to feel like." Of course she had experienced orgasms during sex before, but never had she had one so intense. Sandor had so thoroughly readied her body for what was to come, and helped her finish. Ramsay's idea of foreplay had been spitting into his hand, rubbing it on his cock, and barreling into her. No tender touches, no arousing caresses, not caring if she finished or not. She closed her eyes. "How am I ever going to get enough?"

Sandor laughed, "Well...I'm yours, Sansa...as long as you want me."

Sansa looked up into his eyes. "Forever..." She whispered. Sandor smiled. He never in this life or the next thought that he would actually like hearing those words from a woman. Sansa pushed herself up on his chest and gently rose, releasing Sandor's softening penis from her slit. She could feel Sandor's sticky cum oozing and trickling down her leg as she walked to the bathroom to clean herself down there. When Sansa returned to the bed, Sandor welcomed her into his arms. As they laid together, Sandor stroked the skin of her back, slightly damp with sweat from their fierce laboring. When her body shivered slightly from the unheated air in the room, he pulled the covers tightly around them. In no time, they both slipped off into a deep, satisfied sleep.