Sansa laughed at the impetus with which Sandor pulled her off the floor, and, when he laid her on the bed, their eyes met for a moment, and he gave in to will to kiss her, she was the tastiest thing he had ever tried. He deepened the kiss wishing to get lost between her lips, pressing her just enough to feel the soft body beneath his. Her hands returned to his hair, no longer caressing him, but pulling him to her, making him think that nothing had been so perfect before. He kissed her until she was breathless, and when their lips parted, he was presented with the sight of her mouth, swollen and red, smiling at him. Sansa's left hand slid from his hair and went to the marked side of his face. Sandor made a move to push her away, but she interrupted him.

"Please."

Disarmed by that sweet voice, he allowed himself to be touched. Sensitivity was strange on that part of his face, he had points where he felt nothing, but in others, even the smallest touch was painful. She was gentle on her expedition, touching softly each marked spot, and when there was no more scar to run her fingers, she sat on the bed and gently kissed him on the ruined cheek, the final act to knock down any barrier that was still standing and doing he surrender to her.

With gentle caresses, she persuaded him to lie down and snuggled up to him, kissing him unhurriedly, exploring every corner of his mouth, driving him mad.

"That's good." She murmured against his lips before pulling back and resting her chin on his chest.

"Yes, it makes me want to kiss all of you."

"All of me?" Her voice betrayed her surprise.

"Each part."

"I... I think I'd like that."

"Really?" He could not help to ask, after all, though he wanted to run every inch of her body with his mouth, he would not do anything she had not allowed.

Sansa just nodded in agreement.

As gentle as he could, Sandor laid her against the blankets and kissed her mouth briefly before moving to her neck. He brushed his teeth lightly against her soft skin and felt her tense. He glanced to her face and found her eyes closed.

"Open your eyes, Sansa, and see that it's me." He whispered in her ear and took the opportunity to lick its. "You know I'm incapable of hurting you, you always knew."

Sandor brushed her collarbone with his lips as he watched her clench her eyelids trying to follow his words, it was exciting to see how his caresses affected her. He kissed her neck and ran his nose down the valley between her breasts before running around one of them with his tongue.

"Keep your eyes open, Sansa." He asked before tasting the rosy, inviting nipple, making her gasp.

"I cann... I cannot do it with you doing such things..."

He smiled against her skin, his ego inflated and his body throbbing as a result of Sansa's reactions. He put his mouth over her other nipple; she moaned.

"Talk to me, do not let me forget it's you..."

Sandor glanced at her, eyes closed, surrendering to his caresses.

"Who wants to talk when can do better things with mouth?" Sandor run his tongue around her belly button and laid a kiss on it.

"Sandor..." It was just a whisper, half-ordered, half-delight.

"What do you want me to say?" He traced the curve of her waist with his mouth laying warm kisses.

"Anything, it does not matter..."

It did not matter to him either, whatever he said, he would be missing out to enjoy her soft skin.

"Sandor..."

"There's a horse in the stables." He ran his tongue outside of her thigh. "A fine, big animal," he said, stroking a few scars and kissing them, "who, with the right training, could become unbeatable in a battle." He lifted her leg a little and kissed the sensitive part behind her knee. "And it's fast, too", crossing Sansa's leg over his head, he found himself between her thighs, "faster than expected for an animal of that size."

"Sandor?"

"Hmm?"

"Stop talking about horses."

Sandor laughed and rubbed his beard inside of her thigh, watching the hair there rise up. He settled himself between her legs and stared at her with greed; he wanted her so much that he even salivated. Without warning, he ran his nose through her folds, making her gasp in surprise.

"Bad?"

"Not."

"Good..."

Impatient, he laid his mouth on her again, kissing her hard before he tasted her; she was delicious. He continued to stroke her with his tongue, running from top to bottom, intensifying one movement or another when he felt her shudder around him. When he touched the sensitive mountain above her sex, Sansa closed her legs around his head, moaning in delight. Enraptured by her reaction, Sandor intensified his caresses until he felt she convulsing against his tongue and softened in the midst of a sigh of pleasure.

Still with his mouth on her, Sandor looked up and found her staring him back with a small smile and bright eyes of surprise and satisfaction. She led one of her hands to his hair and began to stroke it with care; to see her like this, to feel her, make him experience emotions he did not know and which he could not deal with. Trying to control himself, he resumed his caresses, slow and carefully, but as exciting as before, for he felt her pulse beneath his tongue.

"It's always like that?"

"What?"

"The feeling."

"I do not know."

Sansa looked a little disappointed by the answer.

"How about you?" He looked at her questioningly, and she seem uncertain as she added softly, "And your pleasure?"

It was a fact that Sandor had not reached the climax, but he had felt more pleasure tasting Sansa than he had felt in all the sex of his life.

"Doing this," he licked her firmly, making her wince slightly, "is quite pleasurable."

"Would it still be nice if you... if you were inside me?"

For him? For sure. For her, however, he could not tell. Her reactions when he started touching her showed that the marks in her spirit were so vast, if not larger, than in her body, and Sandor feared what might happen if he entered inside her.

"I do not know."

Sansa stood there for a moment, lost in thought before speaking again.

"I... I think I'd like to try..."

"Sansa..."

"My courage will not last forever, Sandor, and I would hate to waste it." As he searched for words that made her change her mind, Sansa tried to pull him by his arms, catching his attention. "I know what you're thinking, but do not let it stop something that might be good for both of us." She squeezed his shoulders. "Do not make me beg, Sandor."

Sansa was determined and, seven hells, he wanted her so much, always wanted to.

"Tell me if you do not like it."

She nodded, and he pressed his lips to hers in an urgent kiss; he wanted her body to be as ready and willing for sex as his. He touched her breasts, dragged his hand down her ribs, and belly before place it where his mouth had just been. He studied her responses to his caresses before starts to massage her slowly. She sighed and spread her legs a little wider; that was all the encouragement he needed. When he felt Sansa's orgasm close, he calmed down and whispered in her ear, "I'm going to come in."

Sansa was tiny to him, and entering her was a delicious torture. He felt her nails digging into his shoulders, but, by the way she curled her legs in his, Sandor would say she was enjoying it. He moved slowly, in long, deep thrusts, listening to Sansa gasp in harmony. Her hands ran down his back, squeezing him, pulling him to her, driving him crazy. His movements became faster and with each groan of Sansa, more frantic. I cannot take it. On impulse, he lifted her leg, going deeper, faster and was rewarded by Sansa's incoherent groan and the delicious contraction of her body around his cock, in three strokes he was finished.

Sandor collapsed over her, making the air out of her lungs audibly. He tried to pull away, but she stopped him.

"Stay."

"I'm crushing you."

"No you are not." He felt her fingers run gently down his spine and gave up.

As his heart calmed, Sandor's awareness awakened to other things: the warmth of Sansa's skin, her heady scent, and the fact that he was still buried deep inside her; the mere thought made him pulse in rejoicing.

"It was better than I expected. "She said softly and he turned his face to see her. "To have you inside me. It was as good as when you used your tongue." Hearing that made him almost hard.

"It was." Agreed, he would agree to everything in that moment.

They were silent for a few more minutes. Sandor was already beginning to feel drowsy when Sansa said that her legs were beginning to tingle. Sorrowful, he withdrew from inside her, and he was already on his feet to get up when she hugged him by his waist and rested her face in the middle of his back. The gesture surprised him, for despite what they had just experienced, it seemed more intimate to him, an even greater surrender from Sansa.

"Sleep with me."

"It's not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"If they know that..."

"Let them know." She tightened her grip. "Just stay with me."

It was a tempting offer, made just right to make it irrefutable. Uncrossing Sansa's arms so he could move, he saw the doubt cross her face before settling into her blankets; looking pleased, she did the same.

"Have you slept with a woman before?" Sandor looked at her quizzically. Had not they just done that? "I mean only sleep, have you?"

"No."

She nodded and he closed his eyes trying to get some rest.

"I saw my parents once, sleeping." She whispered after a while. "They were holding each other."

She was silent again, but now she had been able to stir his curiosity.

"Do you want to do the same?" He did not need to ask, he could see it in her face. "Come here, girl."

He stretched out his arms to wrap her around and got confused to see her turn and prop her back to the side of his body, her head lying in the crook of his arm. The heat and smell of her hit him, inducing him surround her with his free arm. With a sigh, Sansa took his hand in hers and led it to her chest; succumbing to the temptation, Sandor took a soft breast with his hand; she did not push him away.

Despite the comfort they were in, neither of them could sleep, the reality of what was happening outside those walls gradually infiltrating the bubble they had created; and as the sky passed from black to gray, Sandor left Sansa's chamber and went to meet Bran, clutching the handle of his sword in anticipation of the news he would give.