Wolf Queen: Chapter 7
The battle between the stags, wolves, and lions lasted two nights after the demise of Tywin Lannister. Even with the head of the army removed, the Lannister's pushed forward at the command of Lord Kevan Lannister. Despite Lord Keven's best efforts, the field was covered in the blood of lions, their bodies nothing more but tasty morsels ready to be shredded by the hungry wolves famished from serving their Queen. Stannis's thoughts wandered back to the moment in battle where the Queen of the North came over the hill atop a white destrier, smirked widely, Stannis would swear to his final day that her eyes met his as she lifted the bloody head of Tywin Lannister above her head and screamed her fury and triumph- her voice echoing above the sound of battle, shooting straight to Stannis's chest. In that moment, Stannis felt admiration as he looked upon the Queen. Snarling and bloodied. A warrior Queen. A warrior wolf.
Stannis found renewed vigour after that and kept to the frontline for the remainder of the battle. During the final hours of the skirmish, when the sun peeked over the horizon and the remaining Lannister men pushed forward with one final cry, Stannis found himself beside the armoured form of Sansa Stark. Her wolf was no more, but still she stood among the front; a bloodied short sword clutched in her gloved hands. Wolves circled her and him, creating a protective barrier. Men threw themselves at the wolves trying to get to the king and Queen- snarls ripped from wolves as their razor-sharp teeth dug into flesh. Some managed to get past the wolves, their swords having found purchase in the blood matted flesh. When the men in red, launched themselves into the circle they met their end by the hand of Sansa stark, herself. She was not as well trained as her sister, she made mistakes that resulted in deep wounds, slashes, and blood dripping from her soft unprotected skin. Yet she did not flatter. And Stannis, he fought beside her. While she was like fire, loud and furious, Stannis was the shadows. He was calm, collected, as he slashed out at the men striking as fast and as swift as the night. Where fire went, the shadow followed. They worked well together: the thought has crossed both of their minds as they danced the dance of death.
Stannis pondered on his thoughts, gazing deeply into the lit fire that danced before him; he did not notice the small knock that fell upon his door, nor when said door opened and soft skirts swished into his chambers. Stannis only came back to the present when soft hands pushed his chest back into his plush chair, and skirts were straightened as legs sat astride him. Stannis's eyes widened, and he jerked in shock. He opened his mouth to speak- only for Sansa's pale finger to grace his lips urging him to be quiet.
"Shoosh…" Sansa murmured. Tilting her head to Stannis's neck where she kissed softy, trailing soft, hot kisses down his neck. Stubble tickled at the skin of her cheeks, rubbing pleasantly.
Stannis groaned; "Sansa? I…" his hands moved to push the willing woman from his lap. Duty forbade he take advantage of a woman that was not his wife. "Ah, ah." Sansa tsked, she smirked down at Stannis "I want this," soft hands trailed down the leather of Stannis's jerkin covered check "I want you." Sansa's bruise malted face did nothing to dissuade from the beauty that was beneath. She wanted him. For some reason this did not surprised Stannis in the slightest. Sansa brought her face closer to his, her hot breath fanning across his lips "Now my king, take me." Lips crashed against each other as the two royals fell together- moans and groans of pleasure escaping as they battled it out with furious tongue, teeth, and spittle. The fight to push Sansa from his lap leaving his clouded brain. Stannis could not hold himself back anymore; he wanted her. just as much as she wanted him. Stannis groaned low in his throat, the vixen in his lap nibbled lightly at his lips. To hell with it, he had sinned already in his life, he might as well go to the seven hells with the memory of her soft pink lips.
Pulling away from her briefly, Stannis stared at Sansa, piercing blue eyes darkening with lust. "Stand up." Stannis commanded. His tone leaving no room for questioning. Sansa looked up prettily through her blue eyes, tears threatened to spill. He did not want her. Quickly Sansa removed herself from the makings lap, apologies about to spill from her lips. Stannis stood with her, stalking Sansa like a wolf would stalk his prey. Trailing large, calloused hand up Sansa's bodice, Stannis pushed her back. Step by step, he pushed. Till the backs of her skirts brushed the temporary war table, littered with little figurines, signalling foe.
Sansa gasped.
His eyes were dark, roving slowly up her body, trailing over her skin like an intimate kiss. Heat pooled belly, curling like a snake.
He pushed gently once more: Sansa fell back, hands smacking the wood as she braced fall. The hands that were over her stomach, drifted to each hip and lifted her like she was a feather; seating her on table. Her skirts pushing several figurines out of the way. With a swipe of his hand more followed and Sansa was laid back on the table. A gentle thud resounding through the room as her head landed on the table, red hair splayed behind her.
Stannis groaned the knelt before the queen. Gathering her skirts in his hands he pushed them over her hips. Sansa gasped moving to spring up. What was he doing? She was not sure where he was until she felt his hot breath against her cunt. She whimpered at the hot sensation. "Uh uh, trust me, my Queen." his breath was near her thigh. Gooseflesh peppering her skin.
Stannis gently pushed her thighs open and greedily took in the sight before him: she wore no under clothes, so her glistening cunt was before him, copper curls at the apex. Sansa moaned as Stannis trailed his finger through her slit, gathering up the fluid that settled there. She was aroused. Bumping the nub at the top of her folds sent small spasms through Sansa body, a breathy moan leaving her lips, head thudding against the wood. Breathing through his nose Stannis began his feast.
He pressed the flat of his tongue against her tight bud. The taste of her making the erection in his breeches throb with want. Lips moved over the nerve interchanging through licks and sucks on the delicate flesh. Stannis had limited experience with this act, but from the wanton sounds that were coming from above he knew he was doing it correctly.
He kept sucking on her clit, lapping up her sweet fluids, Sansa moaned and wriggled above him, rubbing her pussy against his face. Sansa whimpered loudly, gripping onto the edge of the table as he thrust two fingers deep inside of her sopping wet cunt. Her juices slipping down his hand.
" Oh gods—!" Sansa's voice rang out, echoing against the walls of the room, where outside their army awaited. the heat that was building inside of her growing.
He kept his attention on her weeping cunt. Stannis kept thrusting his fingers in deeper, curling them against the spongey wall behind her cervix. With one final curl, and light scratch against the spongey tissue Sansa folded and her back arched against the table as she heard her whimpers and moans surround the two of them.
"More please." She begged. she wanted more, his fingers were nice, but not enough, not big enough, Sansa screamed as she threw herself over the edge that she had been hanging off since the end of the battle. In the heat of battle, Sansa had watched her king. Each kill he made, allowed for that heat to blossom between her thigs. Her screaming continued as she let the orgasm wash over her entire body and then slowly regained focus as she felt him pulling out his fingers, fluids gushed down her legs. a deep blush spread her cheeks.
He breathed heavily, slowly licking her through her pleasure. With one last swipe of his tongue, he stood from his kneeling position. the hands that had just been buried in her cunt ripped at her bodice pulling the laces free; with them her breasts spilt from their confines. Stannis clenched his teeth. She was beautiful. Large pink areolas under pale bosom that pebbled and begged for his touch. He moved between her legs which wrapped around his backside as he brought his lips to her nipple following his earlier ministrations from feasting on her cunt.
The moans and whimpers that left her mouth were sinful. One of his hands left her hips, to his breeches where he untied the laces, removing his thick cock from the confines of his breeches. His lips not once straying from their mission. His thick cock brushed against her folds, groans leaving both their mouths.
"Yes!" Sansa moaned, gripping the king with her hips, trying to bring him closer.
Stannis pushed his cock gently against her cunt, gathering wetness to be shared between the two of them. She moaned quietly, as he pushed a little further inside before moving himself back away again. Slowly inching into her tight pussy. Stannis pushed his cock slowly in once again and this time he did not stop. She whimpered as he pushed himself in further until he was finally caved inside of her sweet tasting cunt.
He kept himself still, kissing up her chest, neck and over her lips whispering words of encouragement as Sansa adjusted to the size.
They blinked together before he slowly pulled himself out before thrusting back in again. At the sudden stretch, Sansa moaned and grabbed tightly onto the linen of his shirt, creasing it. She closed her eyes as he thrust deeper inside of her.
Her mouth remained open as moans, whimpers and mewls passed through at his movements. Huffs of his warm breath against her neck.
He paid attention to every reaction from his movements. He sped up when he noticed her whimpers turning into moans. He slowed down to tease her and noticed she would twist her hand in his jerkin and grind against him, her hips moving to beg for more. And when her moans became, even more, he thrusts his thumb against her clit, circling in time with his thrusts. Beneath him she was collapsing and letting go under his every touch. The heat that had grown once more, tipping forward. Sansa fell, a scream of his name leaving her mouth
"Stannis."
Stannis grunted as her tight walls spasmed around his cock. His thrusts became erratic as he felt his balls tighten as his own orgasm crashed through him, thick whiter seed spilling forth into the tight cavern that was her cunt. Stannis collapsed against her; his full weight braced against her.
Suddenly, what they had just done weighed heavily upon Stannis. What did he just do! He was not his whore of brother, now he had just debased the poor girl.
Said girls, hands trailed through the soft hair at the base of his skull. His head was still buried in her breasts. "Do not start, Stannis." She could feel the emotions rolling off him in waves. He had tensed despite moments ago spending all that stress inside her.
"I wanted you, I still want you. Again, and againnn." Sansa's last words trailed off. His cock was still buried deep inside her, hardening at her words. Sansa grinned and moved her hips, grinding against him.
"Again, and again." She whispered. A small laugh leaving her lips as Stannis groaned and threw caution to the wind, thrusting deeply. He was going to hell.
…
Following the battle on the outskirts of the twins, the battle-hardened soldiers rested long enough to replenish their wits and sharpen their blades before the march south begun. King Stannis Baratheon at the helm, the wolf queen striding beside him. The image of the pair forever ingrained in the minds of the stag and wolfs warriors and any small folk that was still living on the terrain south. The image of pure royalty.
The army marched towards Kings Landing, towards Cersei Lannister and her incestuous children. There Stannis and Sansa would deal justice and take back the iron throne. Kingslanding was less than a day's ride away when Stannis lifted his armoured fist to the sky signalling for camp to be erected. A final war council was ordered and men of the north and those left who served the stag discussed final details.
"She will know we are here." Sansa spoke as the last lord left the meeting.
Stannis sighed, his hand rubbing tiredly at his eyes "I know."
The king paced toward the Queen, raising his hand softy to her bruised cheek. Her wounds were still healing from the battle moons ago. A lot had changed since then, particularly between them. Sansa was no longer just a Queen in Stannis's eyes nor he just a king in hers. Now they were lovers. Every night since the battle, the pair fell into bed together- often they fucked- they came together in growls and moans, bites, and licks, sweat and heat. Other times when tiredness from the journey south wearied them, they fell to bed and just slept. Awaking entangled in each other's arms, warm and content. Stannis had never felt the way he had when enveloped in her- so at home. He could not bear the thought of losing her. But that is what duty would require. If all went as planned and the capital fell Stannis would get his crown and Sansa stark, the queen of the north would return north. Far far away from him.
"Sansa?" Stannis stroked his fingers gently across her cheek, staring intently into her blue eyes. Sansa's eyes flutter closed as the man before her stroked at her face. He looked saddened- his stormy blue eyes unnaturally dark and Sansa swore almost misty- tears clouding them.
"Do not say it. I cannot bare it." Sansa knew what was happening the minute those steel blues turned to her. This was it. He was drawing a line. His throne was near, and their separation imminent. "Just know this Stannis Baratheon," Sansa tilted her head up peering into his eyes. Eyes that screamed of home and comfort. "I am thankful for the time we have shared together. So thankful, for even during a time of war and hard travel you brought me comfort. You are a man of few words, yet the words you have spoken have allowed for feelings of admiration, and love…" Stannis gritted his teeth "to spring forward. Simply, my king for I know simplicity is something you value; I love you, and I will always love you. Thank you for brining justice to the north. We will remember. Always."
Lifting herself onto her toes, Sansa pressed her soft lips into a final kiss onto the kings' lips. brushing together in a final goodbye. For bigger things awaited them.