A/N- Wow that last chapter was definitely a roller coaster of emotions! I had so much going on in my head with these two...I just had to go ahead with the next chapter right away! Thank you sooo much for the reviews :) Happy reading! xoxo

In the days that followed, Sansa found herself having a hard time feeling anything but devastated. Once Sansa got home from Whittaker's, Margaery had come over and held her against her shoulder as she cried and told her about Sandor's sudden change of heart. Sansa just couldn't understand why he had offered her everything and instantly changed his mind.

Sansa wiped her nose with a tissue Margaery had supplied for her. "I mean, he promised me all these wonderful things, gave me fleeting happiness...and then snatched it all away. What kind of man can do that to someone?!"

Margaery sighed and stroked Sansa's hair as she held her. "Apparently one who has suffered immensely and is broken from it. Some men just can't come back from horrible things that happen to them." She shook her head and went on, "I'm so sorry, love. I wish there was something I could do or say to make things better."

"Just hold me." Her body shook with sobs. She couldn't help feeling a bit ridiculous. After all, she hadn't even known the man that long. Margaery assured her she was not being ridiculous. Intense feelings had a way of developing quickly. Even though she wasn't defending Sandor, she had offered the thought that maybe there was a little merit to what he had said. She said that maybe he was just scared about not feeling like he would fit in in Sansa's life. "Apparently you can't teach an old dog new tricks." Sansa whispered against Margaery's shoulder.

"What's that dear?"

Sansa closed her eyes and muttered, "Nothing."

The miserable days crept by. The unpredictable spring weather of the south suddenly turned stormy. It had rained for the past two days. Very appropriate for my mood, Sansa thought glumly as she looked out her classroom window on Thursday afternoon. Her emotions bounced back and forth between sadness and anger. During their time together, Sansa had let herself entertain the thought that her infatuation with Sandor might have been love. Could have been. Guess I'll never know now. She had not heard anything at all from Sandor. Before looking at her phone, she would pray that his name and that black heart emoji would be on the screen. Rickon had text her twice, saying how awesome Sandor was, and had asked when he would be back over. She hadn't told her family about their breakup yet. On Friday afternoon, Thoros sought her out to give her the certificate for his yoga sessions that were to be auctioned off at the gala. They met at Tate's on the corner of Fifth street. Seeing how down Sansa was, he insisted that she stay and have a drink with him. Not wanting to pump Thoros for information, Sansa did not mention Sandor or their "breakup." Sandor had never actually acknowledged her as his girlfriend, so she wasn't sure if that would be the correct term to use.

"You know," Thoros began as he sipped his chai tea, "You can ask me about Sandor." He leaned in close. "I won't tell him."

Sansa cracked a small smile at Thoros. He was always so nice to her and it made her a little sad that she wouldn't get to see him anymore. She took a deep breath. "Ok, Thoros. How is he?"

Thoros shook his head. "He's taking it pretty badly. Won't eat, doesn't sleep...stays drunk most of the time unless he's at work, and even then we're not sure he's entirely sober. Beric says he looks like pure shit."

Sansa pressed her mouth into a thin line and swirled her straw in the strawberry smoothie she had ordered. "He's taking it badly? Well that's funny, considering he was the one who wanted to end things." The thought of Sandor wallowing in misery made her a little angry. He was the one who tucked his tail and ran away. Why was he so miserable? He had wanted out. "He did it to himself." Sansa finished her thoughts out loud as she sat back against her chair.

Thoros shrugged. "Maybe now he's aware that he fucked up." He offered softly. "Sandor has never been able to handle emotions very well. And when he realized how strong his feelings were for you...I guess he just sort of freaked out. You've got to admit, this did all happen very fast."

Dumbfounded, Sansa stared at Thoros. "Well, he could have at least told me, instead of just waiting for everything to culminate and explode!"

"Like I said, Sandor doesn't do well with feelings or expressing them. Very unhealthy if you ask me. We've tried to get him to truly open up and talk about it, but he doesn't confide in us much about the deep shit." Thoros patted Sansa's hand as she looked sadly up at him.

"Is there any hope for us?" Sansa asked quietly.

Wide eyed, Thoros looked away and scratched his blonde beard. "Sansa, I don't know. I haven't known Sandor to have too many changes of heart. Once he's made his mind up about something, he usually sticks to his decision." He finished his drink and looked at Sansa. Thoros didn't want to give her a false sense of hope, but always one to be optimistic, he ended his thoughts with, "You never know. Maybe he'll come around."

After hugging him goodbye, Sansa thanked Thoros for her smoothie and drug herself back to her apartment to shut out the world and let the gloom consume her. She didn't feel the rain on her face, or running through her hair. All she felt was pain and sadness. Every other emotion had been pushed from her being. Her body ached and her head had not stopped pounding. She knew the hurt she felt in her chest would only go away with time, but for now, she would have to deal with it. As she rode the elevator up to her apartment, she got a text from Margaery saying that she and Tormund were going out to eat that night and did she want to come too. Sansa politely declined. She just wanted to be alone.

When Sandor had walked into the shop on Friday morning, he immediately sought Beric out. He had not spoken a word to him since storming out Tuesday afternoon. His shadow fell over Beric, who was stooped down to retrieve a tool from a bottom drawer of his tool chest. Beric stood and turned to face him. Sandor's bloodshot eyes contrasted sharply with the dark circles under them. His beard and hair were messy and uncombed. "You look like shit." Beric said as he looked Sandor square in the eye.

As Sandor stood there, offering his silent apology, Beric understood and clapped Sandor on the shoulder and nodded his head once at him. They worked mostly in silence that day, Beric knowing Sandor probably didn't want to talk about it, and Sandor assuming Beric would call him out once agian for running away scared. In the few days he had been away from Sansa, Sandor had fallen into a routine of staying up late, staring at the muted tv while blaring a Papa Roach album, drinking from a bottle of Jack Daniels, angry tears of regret blurring his vision, but not falling. He hadn't gotten back in his bed, fearing the smell of Sansa on his sheets would be his demise. Instead, what little sleep he got was on the couch. At work, he was a zombie, hearing and seeing what he was working on, but not feeling a thing. He desperately wanted to call her. To go to her and wrap his arms around her delicate body to take away the pain he had surely inflicted. Sansa was the only person who could cure the empty feeling in his heart, but she was angry at him, furious probably, and most likely wanted nothing to do with him. He sighed as he sat in the alley behind the shop on his break, staring at the ground. A lit, but unsmoked cigarette pinched between his fingers. Usually, after he pushed a woman away, he would twist the truth around in his head to make it seem like the woman was at fault. That she had been the reason he ran away and his actions would be justified. There was just no doing that in his current situation. Sansa had done nothing wrong. It was all his fault this time and he knew it. After Beric and Sandor closed the garage for the day, Beric suggested that they go to Halfhand's for a drink. A change of scenery sounded good to Sandor, and he decided drinking whiskey at a bar instead of on his couch wouldn't be a bad idea. They sat in silence, sliding a pack of cigarettes between the two of them. After their second drink, Beric spoke.

"Sandor-"

"Don't fucking say it." Sandor snapped, assuming Beric would accuse him of being scared and running away again. "Don't you tell me this is my fault because I already know it is."

Lighting another cigarette, Beric grunted. "Well that's not what I was going to say, but it's big of you to admit that."

Sandor turned his dark look to Beric. Then went back to his glass of whiskey.

"What I was going to say was...I've known you since we were kids. I've never seen you act this bad after shutting down a woman. You do care for her. Why'd you do it?"

After throwing his drink back and lighting a cigarette, Sandor looked at Beric's good eye. "I did it because I care for her. She doesn't need me in her life. She can have any man she wants."

Beric let a laugh slip out. "Yea and she chose you. Didn't you ever stop and think there might be a reason for that?"

"She must be stupid, I guess."

Beric scoffed loudly. "She chose you because she loves you. That's got to be the only reason. Why don't you stop being an asshole and let her choose who she gets to love?"

Letting the sadness consume him, Sandor frowned and looked at the melting ice in the glass clenched in his hand. He released his grip to set the glass in front of the bartender, who filled it up again. He turned Beric's words over and over in his head. Sansa had said something similar to that. So I don't get any say in this matter?

"I've got to go take a piss." Beric muttered as he slid down from the barstool.

As Sandor sat there, he continued thinking about Beric's words. He was his oldest friend. One of the few who were not afraid to give it to him straight. If there was anyone he should listen to, it should be Beric. Sandor froze when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

"Sandor?"

When he jerked his head to look at the person who had touched him, he almost choked on his mouthful of whiskey. It was like seeing a ghost. A ghost with green eyes and tattoos on her arms. She had colored her hair a few shades lighter, but it was her.

"Audrina." Sandor said, his forehead wrinkled with emotion. She was the very last person he wanted to see at that moment. "What are you doing here?" Fuck, this just isn't my week...

"I'm in town on business. There's a furniture show in King's Landing that my company has a booth at. They sent me here. Gosh I forgot how much I love this place." Audrina looked around as she nervously rubbed one hand up and down her other arm. Halfhand's Tavern was a bar they had frequented together as a couple. At one time it had held sentimental value to him, and he had stayed away after their breakup. Now it was just another bar. "May I sit?" She gestured to the barstool next to him.

Sandor shrugged as he tried to regain his composure.

Audrina pulled herself up onto the stool. "Sandor, you don't look good."

"That's what I hear."

They sat in silence for a while. Without asking, Audrina slid a cigarette out of Sandor's pack. After she lit it, she ordered a vodka soda. Sandor could feel Audrina studying him as she sat on his unscarred side. "I was going to call you while I was in town." Audrina let the minutes pass before speaking again. "I've missed you." She finally confessed.

Laughter rumbled from Sandor's chest as he took in what she had just said. "Missed me, huh? What about that pretty boy cunt you ran off with? What was his name...Greg?" In truth, Sandor had known his name. However, he didn't want to give her the pleasure of thinking that he had dwelled on it.

"Jayson." Audrina corrected, her face pulled into a confused look. "And no...we're not together anymore. I caught him sleeping with his coworker."

"Well if that isn't just poetic justice?" The sarcasm in Sandor's voice stuck Audrina like a needle. Ashamed, she looked away. Another long, awkward pause passed between them. Gods, what the fuck does she want? Sandor asked himself, wishing she would just leave. He looked over his shoulder for Beric. He saw him across the room, talking to a girl he had seen him with before. Sandor rolled his eyes and turned back to the bar.

Clearing her throat, Audrina slowly spoke, struggling for her words. "I've been...I have- uh...thought about...moving home."

"What, back to Dorne?"

Shaking her head, Audrina tentatively placed a hand on Sandor's shoulder. Her black nails grazed the material of his work shirt. "No, home here."

Sandor felt his ears burn as his face flushed red. He shrugged her hand away and turned his whole body to face Audrina. He sneered. "And you just thought I would still be here waiting for you. Ready to welcome you back with open arms, is that it?"

Audrina shook her head and looked forlornly at him. "Well, I had hoped we could talk. Maybe...work things out?" She asked hopefully.

"No fucking chance."

"Please, Sandor. I made a mistake." Audrina reached for him. As she did, she continued, "A huge mistake. I still love you. I never stopped loving you. We were something special, you and I. It can't b-" Sandor cut her off, grabbing her wrist and pulling it roughly away from him.

Leaning close to her face, Sandor lowered his voice to a growl. "You and I are nothing anymore. Got that?! Nothing!" He released her wrist and let the words keep spilling from his drunken mouth. "I had a good woman who loves me. And I may or may not have fucked it all up because I'm so fucked up in the head from you." The words he had spoken washed over him in waves of sudden understanding. Saying those words to hurt Audrina only made him realize once again, he had been the person to blame all along.

"Oh don't you dare blame all your problems on me. You were plenty fucked up in the head already when we met." Audrina hissed as she narrowed her eyes. "So if you have a woman who loves you, what are you doing here, drinking yourself into a stupor?"

Reaching into his pocket, Sandor extracted three ten dollar bills from his billfold and slammed them down on the bar. He stood from the barstool and pushed his way through the crows towards the front door, leaving the woman he had loved so long ago. Seeing her again made Sandor realize that she wasn't the only one who could love him. Sansa had offered her heart to him and he had turned it away because he was running from his past, blaming everyone but himself. If Sansa truly wanted him, how could he say no? Sandor knew what he had to do. He unlocked his phone and searched for the store business hours. It was 6:35, but if he hurried, he could make it to Whittaker's before they closed.

Sandor was out of breath and sweaty when he came to a stop in front of the formal wear store. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and addressed the receptionist. "I need to see Henri."

Alarmed, the blonde woman at the desk stood. Her eyes scanned Sandor's work uniform, dirty with grease stains, and came to rest on his face. "And um...who...who may I tell him is here?" She stammered.

"Sandor. I was just in here on Tuesday. He'll remember me."

"Yes, of course." The woman reached for a phone and pressed a button. "Yes, Henri. There's a...er...gentleman...here to see you. Sandor...yes, said he was here on Tuesday." Her eyes nervously glanced back at Sandor. "Ok, thank you." She hung up the phone. "He will be with you in a moment."

True to her word, a minute later, Henri briskly walked to the front of the store. "Well...just Sandor...did you change your mind about the tuxedo?"

Swallowing his pride, Sandor nodded. "Yes...hope it's not too late." I've changed my mind about a lot of things, he thought sadly to himself.

With a knowing look, Henri replied, "No, it's never too late to make things right." He winked and beckoned with his finger for Sandor to follow him to the back of the store.

For what had to be the hundredth time that evening, Sansa laid her book down in her lap. The highlighter in her grip fell in between the pages as she finally closed it. She tossed it aside and pulled the blanket tighter around her body. It still faintly smelled of Sandor. She held the blanket to her nose and inhaled deeply. The blanket fell from her hands, fearing that if she smelled it too much, it would lose its masculine scent. Ever since seeing Thoros earlier that afternoon, Sansa had been stewing over her situation with Sandor. She wanted to be angry at him. But Thoros' words stopped her. He had told her that Sandor had strong feelings for her and it had freaked him out. Did Sandor not think her feelings for him scared her, too? It didn't seem fair to her. Why did he have to leave me scared and alone? Truth be told, her feelings for Sandor had terrified her. Never had she felt so strongly about a man so soon. A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. She climbed off the couch and walked into the foyer. It was Margaery.

"Hello, darling. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing."

Sansa leaned against the door frame as she spoke to her friend. "I'm ok. Just trying to get ahead on some reading for next week."

Margaery smiled. "Well aren't you studious. Tormund will be here to pick me up in just a little while. Sure you won't change your mind and come with us?"

Sadly, Sansa shook her head. She was happy for Margaery and that her relationship seemed to be going well. In time, she might be able to be around Tormund, but not tonight. "No, but thanks for offering."

"Ok, well I am going to go change. If I don't like the outfit I have picked out in my head, I might be back down here to raid your closet."

Sansa smiled as Margaery kissed her cheek and told her goodnight. Back on the couch, Sansa picked her book up again and picked up where she left off. After about fifteen minutes, she heard another knock on her door. "Gods, she has a key for this exact reason," Sansa muttered to herself as she threw the blanket from her body. As she reached for the doorknob and opened it, she began to speak. "Margaery, where is your k-"

The sight of him rendered Sansa's tongue useless. Her mouth fell open as she stared. There he was. In his white t-shirt and ripped blue jeans. The man who had broken her already fragile heart just days earlier. "Hey." Sandor said quietly.

"Hi..." Sansa's voice was almost inaudible.

"Can I come in?"

Unsure what to do, Sansa finally stepped back to allow him access into her apartment. Sandor crossed the threshold and entered the kitchen. Sansa hadn't noticed that he had been holding a single, red rose in his hand. He held it out to her. Hesitantly, Sansa took it. "Thanks." Tears were already welling up in her eyes before he even started to speak.

"Sansa..." He swallowed hard, the words he had rehearsed in his mind as he walked to her apartment suddenly gone. "I...um. Shit, Sansa...I fucked up." Sandor reached his hand out to her.

Remembering his harsh words on the sidewalk the other night, Sansa shied away from his hand. "Fucked up about what? Meeting me, or breaking my heart?"

I deserve that... Sandor reminded himself as he steadied his temper. "I...uh...the second one." Sighing a ragged breath, he went on. "Meeting you was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I will never regret meeting you that night as long as I live. I didn't mean what I said the other night. I'm so sorry."

Gently, Sansa placed the rose on the kitchen counter. "Why then? Why all this...you freaking out and running away, only to come back days later and apologize. Why put me through all that?"

The words his rehearsed suddenly coming back to him, Sandor explained, "I have been running from my past for so long. And blaming everyone else for the way that I am. Blaming everyone but myself." Slowly, he reached out his hand again and placed it on her shoulder. When she let it stay here, he continued. "It's time for me to stop running from my past, and start running towards my future." Shit, what a corny line, Sandor thought scornfully to himself.

With shaky lips, Sansa asked, "What do you mean?"

Sandor clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. "You, Sansa. You're going to think I'm insane...but, I'm falling in love with you."

When Sansa heard him say those words, her face crumpled in tears. She allowed Sandor to put his arms around her. His voice rasped in her ear. "I made a promise to myself, to you, that I would be always be whatever kind of comfort you needed. And the very first chance I got, I broke that promise." He pressed her body close to his. "I'm so sorry." Sandor whispered. He pulled her body away from his to look down upon her. "Please forgive me."

All Sansa could do was cry. Her tears of sadness, having been spent were replaced with tears of joy. Still thinking she would refuse him, Sandor kept talking. "I'm yours, Sansa...body and heart. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you." To prove his point, Sandor reached into his pocket and produced a folded yellow receipt. He unfolded it and handed it to her. As she read, Sansa laughed through her tears.

"You bought a tuxedo?" She asked, astonished at the notion.

Sandor grinned a relieved smile. "Well, yea. You said you had a lot of black tie events this summer. And if you want me there, then that's where I'll be." He cleared his throat, nervously and used Margaery's words. "They might not be my thing. But it's your thing. And you are my thing."

Thinking for sure that her heart would burst, Sansa threw her arms around Sandor's neck. He lifted her from the floor as she kissed his lips over and over again. "Oh Sandor..." Sansa gasped as she kissed him. Her tears fell on his face. "I'm sorry too." Confused, Sandor set her down.

"What could you possibly have to be sorry for?" He gently wiped her cheeks with his fingers.

Sansa sniffed. "I'm sorry for putting all that pressure on you to do all that with me. It wasn't fair to you."

Sandor shook his head. "Enough of that. I was too selfish and stuck in my ways to realize how much it all meant to you. I still stand by what I said. You make me want to be a better man. I have been at war with myself in some way or another my whole damn life. I have never been able to find peace. Until I met you. You are my peace, and…I…I need you." He stammered. That was all Sansa needed to hear. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard him utter those words. She reached for his face and placed a hand on his scar. Tenderly, she pulled his face close to hers. She let her lips brush against its roughness, kissing it over and over, until she was sure every inch of it had been covered. The last barrier between them had been ripped away. "Oh Gods, Sansa…" Sandor scooped her up in his arms. His lips met hers in a desperate kiss. She bit on his lower lip. "Sansa..." Sandor growled. "Please…I...I have to tell you..." Sansa was sucking on his tongue when he finally pulled her away. "Sansa...I will never do that to you again." One of Sandor's strong hands held Sansa's waist to his, the other stroked her petal-soft face. "I will never leave you again. I promise."

Sandor's promise was enough for her heart. But she had missed him in other ways. Her body needed the release she had been craving. "Take me to the bedroom..." Sansa whispered into his ruined ear.

With a laugh, Sandor lifted her right off her feet, carried her to the bedroom and let her fall with a soft bounce on the mattress. Leaning over her, they locked eyes for just a moment, just long enough for them to feel secure with one another again. Sandor reached for the waistband of her leggings and quickly peeled them away from her body. As he pulled, Sandor let his nails rake gently down Sansa's legs, sending shivers through her body. Sansa let her back arch in anticipation, knowing where his fingers would soon be. The rest of their clothes were a hinderance, but Sandor solved that problem in under a minute. Their tongues intertwined as they kissed, hands roaming each other, touching places the other had been terrified they would never be able to touch again. It was happening much quicker than the first time they had made love, but that was fine with Sansa. She needed him. Needed to feel him fill and stretch her. His fingers found their way down between her legs. He quickly, but carefully buried two fingers inside and curved them upwards, pressing against her sweet spot inside. Sansa grabbed the back of his head and neck and pulled herself up to meet him. She kissed him passionately, pressing and twisting her tongue against his. "Sandor..."

"What is it, babe?"

"I want it hard..." She whispered.

Sandor smiled and growled wickedly in approval. He grabbed her hips and flipped her over, propping her up on her knees. Sansa's body tensed. This was how Ramsay had preferred to take her. From behind. She closed her eyes and tried to push the memory out of her mind. She could feel Sandor on the bed behind her. Before he entered her, he leaned over and grabbed her neck. He pulled her head up and around towards his face and kissed her neck. His rough beard rubbed her skin and sent riveting sensations through her body. He nibbled at her earlobe and gently tugged her hair. When she let out a soft moan, he pulled back a little harder. "Oh Sandor..." she whispered. This was most definitely not Ramsay. She could feel Sandor's manhood pressing against her slit. She rolled her hips back and forth, pressing and grinding on it. Sandor growled. "Are you ready for me?"

"Yes, want to feel you inside of me."

Sandor straightened back up and took a hold of his throbbing cock. He slid it back and forth across her dripping cunt. Sansa moaned in pleasure as he slapped his cock against her swollen folds. He thrust his length into her. Sansa's scream was half pain, half ecstasy. She knew what she was asking for when she pleaded for him to give it to her hard. Sandor leaned forward into her ear. "Sshhhh!" He hissed. "Your neighbors will hear." Sansa bit her lip and hid her moans of pleasure into her comforter. Sandor took Sansa's hips in his hands and began pumping his cock in and out. Each time, going a little bit deeper. A little bit harder. Sansa's walls were wet and slippery and oh so warm. Sandor spread her cheeks wide to see what he was doing to her. His shaft glistened with the slick juices from Sansa's cunt. His thumb found it's way to her ass hole. He pressed it against the taut opening, but did not enter. Sansa gasped in surprise at this new sensation. The pressure from his thumb felt so dirty and exhilarating all at once, and it made Sansa feel wild.

"Harder, Sandor!" She cried.

Sandor's other hand pushed her roughly down on the bed, her chest pressing against the soft fabric. Still restraining himself from the hardest he could go, he threw his hips at her, as he raked his fingernails down her back and around to her front. He felt around his point of entry until he found it. Her swollen, sensitive point of pleasure. He circled her clit with the tips of his fingers. Although his hands and actions were rough, they did not hurt her. Sansa knew she wasn't going to be able to last much longer. Never had she received pleasure from three different places at once. The sensations all culminated together within her body. Sandor could feel her tensing with a building orgasm. He pulled her shoulders up towards him, still keeping his hand on her clit. He rubbed it furiously as he still pumped his cock roughly into her cunt. "Oh Gods!" Sansa cried out, feeling her peak nearing. Sandor grabbed her hair and pulled her face back to his, stifling the screams from her mouth with his tongue. Sansa's body went limp with pure rapture. The slick walls of her cunt began to contract and squeeze around his cock. He continued to rub her clit and thrust. As Sansa's body convulsed and sang, she felt her wetness splashing out onto her thighs.

"Oh fuck yes..." Sandor growled in approval. He flipped Sansa onto her back and stared tantalizingly at her as he licked his fingers, tasting her liquid. He grabbed her knees and spread her legs. He pushed his cock back into her and reveled at just how tight she was. Her breasts bounced with each thrust of his hips. Sweat dripped off Sandor's brow and landed on her chest. The clenching of her tight walls was enough to send him over the edge. With a mighty groan, Sandor pulled his shaft out of her and began stroking himself with his hand. Spurts of his cum landed on Sansa's stomach and breasts as Sandor groaned. He fell back onto the bed next to her, gasping for breath.

"Wow..." Sansa breathed. Her body felt like a warm, viscous liquid that had just been poured from a pitcher. After wiping Sansa's chest and stomach clean with a towel from the bathroom, he collapsed onto the bed next to her, trying to steady his breathing. Sansa almost felt as if she were going to lose consciousness. Never in her wildest dreams ever thought that such pleasure could be had. Sandor was already more of a lover than Ramsay ever was. He was definitely doing the job better than anyone else ever had.

Sandor pulled her on top of his body so her back was flush with his chest. He leaned against the headboard and wrapped her tight in his arms. Time passed in silence as they laid there together. Sansa rolled over on his chest so she was facing him. "I'm glad you changed your mind about us." She whispered.

Sandor shook his head. "I was stupid. Never should have done it in the first place."

"Please, though...in the future...please, if there is anything that ever bothers you...just tell me. I promise you I will try my best to fix it." Sansa gave him a pleading look. "Promise me..."

"I promise. You mean more to me than anyone ever has before. I'll make it my goal in life to make you happy." Sandor thought it was odd that he felt so comfortable expressing his deepest feelings to Sansa. But he didn't dwell on that thought too long. "I've never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point. I thought I did, but deep down with her that wasn't truly what I wanted. It's different with you. You...you make me feel complete."

Happiness overcame Sansa and she could not help a tear that slipped from the corner of her eye. Sandor kissed it away. "Stop all that." He whispered. Her lips met his in a sweet and slow way. Sandor's fingers wound through her hair and pulled her face closer to his and deepened their kiss. Their tongues met and writhed against each other. Sandor's big hands passed over and over Sansa's back, feeling her smooth skin. "Turn back over..." Sandor's rough voice whispered in her ear. Sansa did as she was told. Her bottom rested right above his manhood. She nestled into him, marveling at how well they fit together. Like two pieces of steel that were forged to fit flush. Sandor's hands caressed her slender thighs, rubbed them, savoring their delicate smoothness. As he rubbed, his mouth found its way to her ear. Sandor brushed her hair aside and slid his tongue seductively across her earlobe. He took her cartilage in his teeth and breathed his steamy breath over her. Sansa moaned and sank even further into his body. Sandor kissed his way down her cheek and neck, as far as he could reach. The sensations from his calloused hands produced goosebumps on her flesh. Tenderly, Sandor squeezed her full, round breasts. He kneaded and massaged as Sansa let her head fall back on Sandor's strong shoulder. His fingers gently pinched her puckered nipples. Sansa rolled her hips over his. Blood rushed to Sandor's cock and it pressed into her ass. Instinctively, Sansa spread her legs and raised her hips off his, letting his cock spring up between her legs. Once it was nestled against her slit, she closed her legs and moved her thighs back and forth, letting his long shaft rub across her wetness. She reached down and took hold of the head and pressed it to her. Sandor growled low in his throat. "You know what you're doing..."

As Sansa moved her hips up and down, she smiled in response. "For you, I would try anything."

Sandor slipped his hands under her bottom and squeezed firmly. "Better not say that, baby...you might give me dirty ideas."

"Like what?" Sansa breathed.

"You'll see. But not tonight. We have the rest of our lives for experimenting." Sandor rasped in her ear. His fingers had found their way to her cunt. She was dripping wet. He ran one finger along the folds and slowly brought it away. Watching her juices string away from her and dangle from his finger made Sandor ravenous. He moved Sansa's body up slightly to gain better access to her. Slowly, he slid one finger into her hot folds. After pumping his finger in and out a few times, he reached another in. Then another. Sansa squirmed on top of him, enjoying the way his fingers pressed against her walls. Sandor hooked his fingers around to reach the tender spot inside her narrow channel. He began caressing and pressing his fingers in a snakelike manner against her front wall, stroking that ever so pleasurable spot. Sansa knew that she would cum again in no time with this tantalizing slow motion Sandor was making inside of her. Groaning, she raised her hands behind her and buried her fingers in Sandor's hair. He moaned in response, quickening his rhythm with his fingers slightly. He was determined to show Sansa that he could love her slowly. No doubt the way that Sansa would want it sometimes. Nothing fast, or urgent would take place this time around, he would see to that.

Sansa began rocking her hips in rhythm with his fingers, creating more friction to help intensify her nearing orgasm. Her breaths came out long and deep. "I want to feel you cum, Sansa. I want to feel your pussy grab onto my fingers." Sandor moaned in her ear. "Cum for me..." His beckoning voice pushed her over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her body as her orgasm overtook her. She cried out in ecstasy as her body shook. Her lips parted in pleasure. Her walls clenched rhythmically around Sandor's fingers. Sandor could not keep the smile from his face. Not only did he have the woman of his dreams back, he had the woman of his dreams in bed, and his fingers inside her, giving her an orgasm. To him, Sansa was the most precious being in Westeros. She deserved a lifetime of happiness and pleasure and there was nothing he wanted more than to be the source of such feelings. He wanted to follow her anywhere she would let him and worship her every step of the way. In one swift motion, Sandor flipped them over and put his hands on either side of Sansa. Her body was still trembling and flushed with excitement. She closed her eyes and giggled. She reached up to him and brought his face towards hers. She kissed him like he was her source of oxygen. Sandor had breathed life into her again, for being with him had made her feel alive after her ordeal with Ramsay. He settled his body between Sansa's open legs and penetrated her in one smooth thrust, which was easy since she was still very wet. Sansa gasped through her smile and wrapped her arms around Sandor's neck. He kept his strokes smooth and slow. Deliciously pleasurable. After a few moments, Sansa could feel her body building up in anticipation of yet another sweet release. So big was Sandor's manhood that it touched and stretched all the places inside that made her tingle and throb. Even though it was his second time entering her in a short time, Sandor knew he would not be able to last very long. He sat up, grasping Sansa's knees and looked down between her legs to get a better look. Each time he withdrew from her slit, her lips clung to his shaft. His cock disappeared into her slit slowly again and again, rubbing Sansa's tender spots inside. He lifted her upper body to meet his and she wrapped her legs around his thick waist. Sandor lifted and ground her hips against him in a wonderfully slow rhythm. He pulled her head close to his. "You're so amazing, Sansa." He never missed a stroke as he whispered to her. "You are the only thing in the world that matters to me."

Sansa knew she would never get tired of hearing him say that. What he said was precious to her, for she knew he was not a man of many words. Sansa vowed then and there to make it her goal in life to be Sandor's source of happiness and peace. Each slow, but firm rock of his hips pushed Sansa closer and closer to another orgasm.

"Does that feel good?" Sandor's deep arousing voice was rocking her over the edge. She could feel her walls of her channel beginning to contract and close tightly around Sandor's massive cock. "Oh Gods, yes...please don't stop!" She gasped as her orgasm began to overtake her. Her cunt latched onto Sandor's shaft as she climaxed. Sandor felt her wet slit constrict and knew he was only seconds behind joining her in ecstasy. He attempted to raise her hips off of him, but Sansa wrapped her legs tighter around him. "No, please! Please stay in me...I want to feel you cum!" She cried. Sandor needed no more encouragement. The walls of her cunt began to hungrily milk his cock. Not caring anymore who else in the apartment complex heard him claiming his woman, Sandor let out a deep roar from his lungs as his thick cock erupted inside of her. He fell back onto the bed with Sansa on top of him. They laid there for several minutes, trying to steady their breathing.

Tired and completely spent, Sandor pulled the covers tightly around their bodies. Sansa found her way into the crook of his arm that she loved so much. As she nestled up against his chest, she closed her eyes. No other words needed to be spoken between them that night. They had said everything that needed to be said. Almost everything. Sandor waited until he was sure Sansa was asleep. As he listened to her slow, even breaths, he kissed her forehead and leaned in close to her ear.

"I love you..."