Hey guys, I hope you're enjoying this story. Oh and warning to those, things get a bit heated in this chapter, hence the reason for the M rated. Thanks for reading!

10. Sweet Pleasures

Ever since the last bell rang, indicating the end of the school day, Sansa had been in the library waiting until 4'0 clock arrived. It was the time that her and Jon had both agreed on, as they knew that most of the students would have gone home at this time. This meant that she could get into his car without anyone noticing.

The librarian had given her a peculiar look ever since she had come into the building after her last lesson, confused on why a student would want to willingly stay at school longer than was necessary. Personally, Sansa felt as if the librarian was miffed at the fact that she would not be able to flirt with the science teacher, who was sitting a table away from her.

She was currently hidden between two book cases, sitting on the floor instead of at a table. She had a book in her lap but was not reading it, choosing to flick through the pages instead to occupy her idle hands.

Her foot tapped anxiously on her floor, her mind racing with thoughts. She had ignored the texts she had gotten from both Margaery and Jeyne as she was not in the mood to talk to the both of them. She knew they would just question her on her whereabouts and Sansa was too nervous about her date with Jon to make up an excuse.

She was scared she would just blurt out the truth on where she was going and who with. Despite both her friends jokingly teasing her, on occasion about her crush on Jon, she knew they would be shocked if they found out the real truth.

And that was that she was having an affair with her high school English teacher. Sansa massaged her forehead, the whole situation felt like a badly written story on a TV show that would end badly.

Truth of the matter was that even though she had convinced Jon with the affair (albeit begrudgingly as he still had doubts), she was scared of being caught. By her friends. By her family in particular and thinking on what they were going to say. The consequences for both her and Jon would be extremely severe.

But even though her morals made her question the entire situation, her romantic nature was even stronger, overpowered any logical decisions she thought and allowed her strong emotions to overtake her.

She dismissed the thoughts from her head, not wanting to develop into them any further.

From where she was sitting, Sansa had the perfect view of everything in the library. She could see the librarian sneaking glances at the science teacher and putting away stationary into the large cupboard behind her. This also meant she could see the door and was aware of who was coming or going.

Melisandre had just walked into the room decked in red stilettos so high that Sansa was amazed she had not fallen and broken her heel. She rolled her eyes at the teacher, disdain arising in her body and went back to flicking the pages of her book while glancing at her watch for the time: 3:45.

The red-haired teacher selects a book from one of the bookcases and strode over to the main desk to check it out.

The librarian glances at the book curiously. "Romeo and Juliet, that's an interesting choice," she states. "I never pegged you as a classical literature type."

Melisandre waved her hands, dismissing the statement. "I'm trying to get one of the English teachers to go on a date with me, and so I cannot be seen borrow a book from them. I need to understand their passion and likes if they're going to pay attention to me," she explains in her heavily accented voice.

Sansa's head snaps up, shooting a heated glare in Melisandre's direction.

He doesn't want you.

"Oh, might I ask which teacher you're trying to impress," the librarian asks with a high-pitched giggle, the sound of it making Sansa's lips curl in annoyance.

"Jon Snow," Melisandre smirks crossing her arms, her cleavage extending even further from her poorly hidden dress.

"I wish you well with him. They man doesn't have a chance when it comes to you," the librarian winks suggestively.

Sansa's jaw clenches tighter, her eyes skimming the same words on the pages, unable to concentrate.

Melisandre nods with a sly smirk, collects her book and strides out, her dress riding upwards every time she took a step. She purposefully wore dresses that were too short to be deemed appropriate. Sansa thought she liked the attention.

She peered down at her own skirt. It fell mid-thigh and was a black pencil skirt. It wasn't exactly going to win her a place in the nunnery, but at least she didn't look like a common stripper.

However, judging by the conversation, perhaps Melisandre wore short dresses with the intention to catch Jon's attention. The only satisfaction Sansa got was the fact that Jon's fingers had been inside her. And Jon felt attracted to her instead of Melisandre so he kept rebuffing her advances.

The same familiar accented voice broke her out of her thoughts.

"Sansa. It's good that I found you here. Did you give the note to Mr Snow?" she asks peering down her intensely.

Sansa fought her primal urge to strike the woman in front of her. She had a running repeat in her head of the word mine, every time she glanced at the other woman.

He's mine and you can't have him.

Instead she composed her features emotionless as possible. "I did," she replies shortly.

"And? Did he say anything?" Melisandre presses.

"I don't know," she lies. "I wasn't there to hear."

Melisandre gave out an annoyance sigh, glancing at Sansa with irritation as if it was her fault. Without another word towards her she strode out of the library, her heels clacking on the floor with every step.

Hearing her steps in the distance, Sansa gathered her bag that was placed next to her, slung it over her shoulder and walked out of the room.

It was time to meet Jon for their date.

Reaching the front of the school gates, Sansa peers around her and spots that everyone had gone home. She could not see Jon's car though, and the thought was making her feel worried. She bit her bottom lip nervously, wondering if Jon would stand her up.

No. She waves the thought away. Jon wouldn't do that.

From around the corner, a jet-black car pulls up in front of the gates. Sansa backs away slowly, not knowing who it was. The window slides down, and a jet of dark curls peek out.

"Sansa, get in," he beckons.

A smile upturns her lips, the butterflies in her stomach already growing stronger at the sight of him. Her body's reactions were always strong when it came to him. Walking towards his car, she looks around and sees that no one was observing her and stepped inside.

"Hey, Jon," she greets him, leaning over to give him a sweet kiss for a few seconds.

He looked dazed when she pulled away, his lips still puckered as if awaiting more. He shook himself from his stupor. "Are you cold?" he questions peering at the Goosebumps on her arms.

"A bit," she admits.

"Here, this should warm you up," he grabs his blazer from the back seat and throws it over her shoulders.

She smiles sweetly at him and pulls his jacket around her tighter, the weight of it providing her with comfort.

Jon gave her a tiny smile back, concentrating on the road ahead. She heaved a sigh, settling herself more comfortably in the seat, and he swallowed hard.

The road. Try to concentrate on the road. Don't look at her legs.

"Can we listen to something?" Sansa asked suddenly. He reached out to the stereo to switch on the radio station, just as she did the same, and the brush of her fingers against his skin was electric. He pulled back immediately, still feeling her touch, a ghostly prickling on the back of his hand.

"Sorry," he said quickly, and heard her sigh.

Sansa watched him as he grasped the gear lever, thrusting it forward. Jon had rolled his sleeves up to his wrist, revealing the lower part of his forearms. Looking at his fingers she remembered how they felt that night, pushing through her hair, cradling her head as he kissed her, running over her body and between her legs, touching her. She bit her lip, her belly clenching with sudden desire.

Her thoughts then started to drifted to Melisandre, her jealousy rising quicker, especially since she had his jacket around her. Glancing towards Jon at the side, she felt the driving need to claim him as hers. As a warning to all of the other woman (and men) who would try to take him away from her.

She grabs his arm and turns him away from the car, slamming her lips upon his. His moan was muffled from her lips that were moving furiously against his. Despite his confusion at her sudden actions, his arms come to rest upon her waist.

His touch was driving her crazy as her mind began spinning, all thoughts of decency and logic thrown out of the window. All she could feel and concentrate on was Jon's lips and hands.

"Move your seat back," she whispered in between his lips, gratified at the heavy breathing her kisses had caused in him.

"What?" Jon asked weakly, and Sansa sighed, reaching down beneath his knees and tugging at the lever to move the seat. She shoved at him, pushing him as far back from the steering wheel as the seat would go, and scrambled into his lap before kissing him again, her hip wedged somewhat uncomfortably against the steering wheel.

"Sansa, what are you doing? Anyone could see us right now through the window," he argues.

"They won't," she retorts shortly. Perhaps it was her jealousy or her desire for Jon, maybe it was a combination of both, either way she could not bring herself, at this moment, to care enough for anyone to see them. She only had one objective in hand, and that was for Jon to understand, who he belonged to.

Her hands dropped to his waist, tugging at the buckle of his belt. She got the belt open, letting the heavy buckle fall to the side with a clinking sound, and unbuttoned his slacks, taking his member out from his boxers.

It felt warm to touch, and she ran her fingers down the throbbing veins, fascinated by how it looked. The only ever one she had saw was Joffrey's and his was completely different compared to Jon's. She gripped the bottom of his member firmly with her right hand. Her thumb ran over the head of his cock, spreading the precum she found there, and her abdomen crawled with want for him, her muscles clenching. She pulled her mouth from his, kissing along his jawline, the tip of her tongue teasing his earlobe and making him shiver.

Jon let out a strangled moan at the touch of her soft fingers. It felt better than any fantasy he could have conjured up in his mind or dreams.

"Does that feel good, Jon," she purred in his ear while moving her hand.

"Gods, Sansa," he growled, taking his hand and sliding it through her hair to hold her still while he kissed her. She made a squeak of acquiescence, returning his kiss and increasing the pace of her strokes for a moment before slowing again, pulling his foreskin up over the head before drawing it back down again.

She pulls away again to look into his darkened eyes. "Who do you belong to, Jon?" she asked sharply without stopping her actions.

"What…," he moans out in confusion, his head rolling back in pleasure. This did not satisfy Sansa.

"Come on, Jon. Answer the question," she says sweetly.

Jon knew he was seconds away from blowing his load. "You, Sansa. Only you," he groans.

"Good, now be my good boy and cum for me," she encourages him, stroking him faster.

Suddenly, he could hold out no longer. With a cry, he felt the heat curling from his groin through his belly, his hips thrusting erratically as he buried his face in her neck and hair as he spilled in her hand.

Slowly, he came back to his surroundings. His head felt so fuzzy he could barely think, so he didn't. He simply breathed Sansa's scent in until he came back to himself.

"The next time any woman asks you out or tries to flirt with you, you'll think back to this moment and remember that you're mine," she growls, giving him one last kiss before grabbing tissues to wipe away the fluid from her hand.

Jon gazed at her in both amazement and confusion.

"Now I believe you promised me lemon cakes," she simply says, moving back into her seat to straighten out her clothes.

The bell of the shop door rang as both Jon and Sansa stepped inside; the warm air welcomed them with a coffee smell, mixing the smell of chocolate and cakes. The aroma was circulating the shop because the coffee bar was located near the left side of the door. The first attraction for Sansa was the baked foods. They were tidily placed on the transparent glass cabinet, lined up in a row. There were different types of cakes like blueberry cheesecake, chocolate cake and of course, her favourite, lemon cakes.

Sansa felt her stomach rumbling in hunger, Jon gave her an amused glance as he heard the noise. She gave him sheepish grin in return and curled her hand around his, walking up to the counter to pay for their desert.

Jon gives the elderly waitress a soft smile as he pays her for their food. Before turning around to face Sansa, he grabs their deserts and coffee off of the counter and then walks over to one of the wooden tables.

"I didn't know of this place," she states curiously while glancing around the shop.

Jon settles into his chair and takes a sip of his coffee, smiling at Sansa over his cup. "No, you wouldn't. It's not a place where most of the local people go."

"Oh, that would explain it," she realises. "The only coffee place everyone else goes is the one Margaery's older brother runs. Willas, I think his name is."

"It's good for us. It means no one will recognise us here," Jon explains, reaching over to grab her hand, running his thumb over it comfortingly.

Sansa gives a nod, taking a bite out of the lemon cake. "Woah, this is better than I thought it would be," she raises an eyebrow, moaning in gratification.

"I told you it would be good," Jon grins over at her.

"Okay, you don't need to gloat over it," Sansa rolls her eyes.

Jon gives a shrug. "Just stating the truth." He pauses for a moment before a smirk rises on his lips. "So, you were jealous of Melisandre then?"

"I should never have told you about what happened in the library," she heaves a sigh.

"No, I'm glad you did. But like I told you before, I'm not interested in Melisandre or any other woman because I have you."

"So, you don't regret what we did in the car?" she asks nervously.

"I rather enjoyed it actually, in case you could tell," he teases back, smirking when he saw her blush. His voices softened afterwards, "I don't think I could be with another woman other than you," he admits.

"Me too…other boys just don't seem to appeal to me anymore. I just want you, Jon," she looks into his darkening eyes.

"Good, because I'll rip the cock off of another man who comes close to you," Jon growls, the sound of it settling in Sansa's stomach. She lets out a laugh.

A thought occurs to Jon. "Sansa, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," he says with furrowed eyebrows.

Sansa nods, waving her hand for him to continue.

Jon takes a deep breath, wondering how he was going to approach this. "A few weeks ago. The blonde-haired boy, Harry Hardyng mentioned something…" he trailed off noticing her dark expression.

"What did he say, Jon," she asks coldly.

"He mentioned someone you went out with; Baratheon I think his name was. You don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable," he said hurriedly.

Sansa let out a weary sigh. "No, it's okay, Jon. I've been meaning to tell you about him anyways." She looks up at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. "Joffrey. That was his first name. He was my first boyfriend when I was a fourteen and I thought he was my prince like in movies."

Jon listened closely, noticing her eyes growing sadder at the topic.

"At first, he was charming, handsome and he treated me like the princess I thought I was at the time."

Jon's eyes narrowed, not liking where the story was heading. "What do you mean 'at first', Sansa?" he questioned.

"My sister and brother could see the warning signs of the type of person, Joffrey was. They knew that he was abusive," she whispered softly.

"Sansa, did he ever hit you?" Jon said in a deadly tone, his mouth pressed firmly together.

"Once. And that was what took me to see how fake he really was. He was always threatening to hit me, but that one time we got in an argument so big that he raised his hand and made me bled," she looked down in sadness.

Jon had to swallow the rage he felt burning in his body. His fists clenched, wanting to punch someone or something due to the image he saw in his mind, Sansa bleeding on the ground.

She continued her story. "After that I left him, but he wouldn't stop following me. Robb, my eldest brother found out and I had to hold him back from beating Joffrey up into a bloody pulp."

"You should have let him," Jon grumbled.

"His family was powerful, Jon. Robb would have been taken to court and I didn't want that ruining my brother's life."

"What happened then?" he asked.

"Somehow, Arya found out. I don't know how but she did, and she had gone up to Joffrey said something to him. To this day she still won't tell me what she said, but after that, Joffrey avoided me like the plague. He left this city because his father got a promotion and I haven't heard from him since," she shrugs.

"Good riddance," Jon mumbled.

"I hope you don't think of me any differently after that, but I'll understand if you do," she looks down.

"No, Sansa. I don't think of you any differently," he was quick to say. He pauses for a second before speaking. "You said he treated you like a princess?" he asks.

Sansa nods, glancing curiously at him.

"I wouldn't do that. I would treat you like a queen," he simply stated.

What a way to start a date though. What about that second episode though? Euron going to become my new favourite villain soon. Grey worm is gong to die soon, I can feel it.