Sansa could feel the vibrations of Sandor grumbling to himself as he continued to walk them toward the keep. His grip was firm on her to ensure she would she not fall and Sansa couldn't help but feel how high up his hand was placed on her thigh. She would've enjoyed his touch in any other situation but right now, all Sansa felt was worry and the sharp armor poking into her ribs.

"Stop squirming, girl." He spat out, adjusting her on his shoulder. He still didn't put her down.

"Please set me down. You will draw attention." She hissed, her hand clanging on the armor that she could reach on his back. Sandor stopped moving at that and with a growl, set her down but he did not back away from her. If anything, she only felt that he was closer to her now.

"What were you doing with Littlefinger, girl!" He seemed to be getting closer to her and Sansa instinctually backed up. When she finally glanced up at him, he was sneering at her. All kindness she had once seen in his eyes had been drained completely. She clenched her fists together before stepping forward.

"Lord Baelish was offering me a proposition to leave King's Landing."

"A proposition, huh? You just going to fuck anyone to get out of here Little bird? Is that what you did with me? Fuck the King's dog into loyalty. Have you been spreading your legs for everybody, girl? Trying to get somebody to save you? Save the poor little bird. Tell me, girl, did you like kissing him? Did it make you feel good?" Tears were brimming her eyes at his hurtful words. She could not speak to him like this, he would only believe what he chose to believe.

Sansa had to swallow the bile that was forming in her throat to form words. She wished him to leave so he could calm down. Instead he only seemed ready to fight, fight away everything she would tell him and every reason she would have gone to see Littlefinger. She refused to open her mouth. "Tell me!" He placed his large hands on her shoulder and tightened his grip before shaking her.

Teeth bared, she spoke, "Fuck you, Sandor Clegane."

He had not expected that, his face blanked and for a split second, Sansa could have sworn she had thought remorse had crossed his fiery gaze. But then the Hound resurfaced and he smiled at her, a cruel smile. "Fuck me? You really want to, little bird? Feel my cock inside of you and then go for a turn with Littlefinger's cunt? I'll tell you one thing girl, won't be much of a lay."

She slapped him, hard. The resulting crack resonated in her ears and echoed through the chambers. Her fingers were tingling from the force of the impact. How dare he talk to her like that? Sansa could not remember a time being as infuriated as she was at the Hound's words. It seemed that the slap only angered him more, Sansa hadn't intended for that. She had hoped he would have returned to his true self and stopped scaring her. Instead he reached for her, trapping her wrist in his hold. She began to struggle against his rough grip.

"Let me go and return me to my room." She hoped that her tone was more collected and stern than she felt in that moment. He could crush her and she would not be able to stop him in the slightest. She reverted her gaze from his and heard him let out a loud sigh at she continued to try to fight him.

"As my lady commands." He released her shoulders but moved his grip firmly onto her upper hand. He quieted finally. But he still appeared with the desire to say more. Instead, he continued his way toward her chambers, dragging her along with him. Luckily for them, they did not pass any onlookers who may have found the way Sansa and the Hound interacted with each other odd. It was most definitely odd.

When they reached her chamber door, he opened it and shoved her inside. "Don't let me find you wandering about, little bird. I will not be able to control my actions a second time." He turned to leave, slamming the door behind him. She found her balance by steadying herself against the frame at the foot of her featherbed.

Sansa felt her anger boiling inside of her. She desperately wanted to scream aloud to express her frustration with everyone around her. The Hound would never allow her to escape now that he knew what she planned. He would prevent her in any way he could from meeting up with Littlefinger ever again. Sansa was not sure if that was what was even causing her misery.

Littlefinger had kissed her. Not a polite and friendly one, but it had insisted that he desired more from her. Perhaps Sandor had been correct about Littlefinger's real intentions with her. Maybe he would never return her home and would keep her prisoner like Joffrey had. Sandor could have been saving her. Or keeping her for Joffrey.

Her thoughts were startled as her chamber door flew open once more. Sandor stood underneath the door frame wearing an expression of hatred she had never seen before. What could he have possibly wanted to call her now? Sansa crawled backwards on her bed in order to avoid whatever he planned to say or to do. But her stalked toward her even as she moved back from him. At her movements, he let out a loud growl as he quickly stood over her bed. He wrapped his large hand around her ankle and pulled hard.

Sansa panicked at his touch for what his eyes gleamed with told her that he was not quite done with the conversation just yet. As his hand released her, he crawled over her as she remained firmly planted on the bed. Her arms came up and began pushing at his chest to stop him from inflicting whatever pain he planned to hurt her with. It was surely what Joffrey and every other man would do to her in this situation. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her arms stilled, clinging to her chest in a self protective measure. She could not fight the noises that escaped her throat. She sounded similar to a bear that had gotten it's foot caught in a trap.

His hands grabbed at her wrists and pinned them on either side of her against the silk sheets of her featherbed. "Stop, little bird! Someone will come!" He grit out and she stopped struggling, turning her cheek to the side to prevent him from seeing the tears that continued to fall. For whatever position she was in, she knew that if anyone were to overhear the noises coming from her chambers, the consequences inflicted by Joffrey would be deadly. She knew Sandor was right and it made her angry.

"You will not leave with Littlefinger, he will kill you. Maybe not by his own hand, but you will die if you leave with him!" He still remained above her and with each word he said, the tension in her stomach only twisted tighter with each word he spoke. She could not be sure what would happen to her under Littlefinger's care but she did know what would happen to her if she stayed in King's Landing.

"I will die if I stay here! Or have you forgotten what he did together?" She shot back, her head still turned away from him. His body was remained straddling hers. He was propped up on his elbows so he did not rest his entire weight on top of her, just enough to ensure she stayed in place. Even under the circumstances, she couldn't help the familiar throb that he awakened inside of her at his touch.

"But I can protect you here, I can at least try. You shouldn't trust him, girl. That dumb cunt doesn't do anything that doesn't work in his favor. He'll try to fuck you or try to marry you so he can have the North. That cunt will not help you. He has no care for your life, little bird. Littlefinger will only save himself in the end."

How could Sandor desire to protect her? It seemed that all she ever did was annoy him. She couldn't look at him, she couldn't bear to see whatever reflected in his eyes. His tone held remorse but did he really feel it? He could never care for her, no one could. She would only ever be a pawn to be played, something to be conquered.

"Please. Stay." It had come as a whisper, almost as if it had never meant to be said. But it was enough to finally push her to once more look at him. Her breath caught in her throat at what she saw. Longing and desire and protection. He wished to protect her from all those who wished to hurt her. He was right, she couldn't trust Littlefinger and his pretty words but she knew that she could trust Sandor. For in that moment, she knew without a doubt that he would protect her until his final breath. Perhaps, even after that.

"Okay." She herself whispered. He released a breath and buried his head into the crook of her neck. He was breathing quickly as if he had just returned from battle. Sansa felt to comfort him and placed her hand lightly on the back of his skull, stroking the hair beneath her palm. His breath tickled her neck as he exhaled hotly across her flushed skin. The heat of his exhale was quickly replaced by the light trace of his mouth. His lips were warm and firm and felt so good against her skin. She could feel the trace of scar that burned the outer edge of the side of his mouth. Yet, it was just another sensation that he provided her. His touch would never be soft but softness was no longer something Sansa craved.

Sandor continued to lick and suck at her throat causing Sansa to squirm under his touch. She was sure that he would leave a large mark but she cared little. She clung to him tighter. Any moment, she feared he could leave and she could not bear to let him go again, allow him to treat her as he would a stranger. Her fingers pulled tight at his hair when his lips located a particularly sensitive spot on her neck that had Sansa wanting to wrap around him. She grunted from the constrictions of her dress which held her stiff underneath him. He didn't seem to mind as he groaned against her throat, the vibrations traveling directly to her womansplace.

Sansa could feel the familiar throb contained within her smallclothes. She had missed Sandor. So much so that she could barely control her hips which rocked against his with each touch of his lips and tongue against her throat. His manhood had evidently hardened through his breeches and now ground firmly into her thigh. Sansa tried to meet his fervent thrusts with her own. But she still wasn't close enough to him. There was too much clothing.

Sansa groaned her impatience at the slow build of their coupling. He seemingly understood as his fingers traced over her skin and settled on her upper thigh which trembled beneath his touch. He lightly traced over the skin he found there and led his grip higher reaching the hem of her dress. Pulling away from her and with one swift movement, he tore her dress along the seam. She shuddered, not only from the cool air that now coated her skin but from his lust filled gaze that travelled up her exposed skin burning her body with its intensity. He appeared a man starved.

"Tell me what you want, Sansa." He growled from above her. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth as she questioned her response. What did he mean? Of course she wanted him. She was panting underneath him awaiting his touch. It didn't seem to Sansa that there was much reason to question what she wanted. Even if she knew how to answer his question, she could not think with his fingers tracing circles on her thigh. It was hard enough to form thoughts, let alone speak them.

His hands didn't stop at her thighs and instead rested lightly on her smallclothes, just a short distance from where she needed his touch the most. He was trying to coax her into talking. Sansa could only pant and furiously nod her head.

Immediately, he hooked his thumbs into her smallclothes and pulled. Her legs spread on their own allowing his knees to settle between them. His gaze focused on her womansplace and Sansa reddened. Without looking, she could feel how wet she was, it was beginning to coat her inner thighs. So did Sandor whose gaze was so darkened when he returned to her eyes, she felt momentarily embarrassed and looked away. She began to close her legs to escape his stare but his hands halted her movements. "Beautiful." He murmured, Sansa wasn't sure if he had meant to say this aloud. Her thoughts were interrupted with a loud moan for as soon as his large fingers strummed the bundle of nerves just above her womansplace, she could no longer focus on her certainly unladylike behavior. She cried out before he placed his palm over her mouth to stifle the noises.

Sansa's head rolled back at his quickened pace. His fingers were rubbing through her folds and Sansa could barely contain the noises that muffled through his palm. All of her muscles began to tense as her eyes squeezed shut. Her hand sought out his as she felt her pleasure rise. She began to buck her hips in time with his fingers to get more of anything just to feel what he was giving her now. Closer and closer… Sansa let out a frustrated sigh at the sudden loss of his touch. Her eyes had widened and her hips rolled forward in a failed attempt to get back the friction he had taken away.

"What do you want, little bird?" She was desperate. He would not allow her pleasure to continue until she finally spoke.

"You! I want you. Sandor, please!" She panted her response. Her hand clutched at him, she was desperate. He finally smirked at her response and began to reach forward. But her hand halted his travel, "No, inside. Please."

He paused for a moment, considering her words. Sansa could barely even recognize her own voice from the low timbre that echoed through the room. He appeared to still and pulled back slightly. Just when she thought he would retract fully, his fingers quickly went for his breeches. Sansa found herself watching shamelessly at his sloppy movements. She wanted to feel him inside of her again.

She could hardly believe that being with Sandor could be the only time that Sansa felt alive. This typically scary man was her only source of happiness. Sandor Clegane was the only one who could make her feel good, make her feel anything other than misery. She was not prepared to give that up, she felt for him like no other. And when his eyes found hers, her heart swelled in her chest. Sansa could not imagine being without him any longer.

When he finally dropped his breeches, his large manhood bobbed slightly amongst the course hairs underneath. It was peculiar to look at now that it was more illuminated under the candle light. The veins along his shaft were visibly engorged and Sansa could see faint twitches as it grew closer. She admired his strength as her gaze travelled his body. The muscles in his thighs were tense and visible. His stomach was pulled taut and his muscled arms reached out for her.

Sandor pulled her up so she was sitting in his lap, her breasts pushed firmly into his chest. The hairs there created a strange friction against her chest and she felt herself squirm.

His manhood was pressed hard and hot against her private place and she couldn't help but buck against him, moaning at the resulting pleasure that bloomed in her womansplace. Aligning herself with his manhood, she sunk down until he was completely sheathed inside of her. Her eyes bulged from the still new sensation. Yet she was pleasantly surprised that it no longer hurt as much as it had the first time. Allowing herself time to adjust, she began to move slowly up and down his length. She worked up a rhythm against him, pleasure beginning to replace the initial sensation. As her motions became faster, Sandor groaned and his hands found her hips stilling her movements. She was panting as she watched him with confusion.

"You will not leave me. Say it." He rolled his hips against hers. Her breath caught in her throat as his manhood found something inside of her that had her whole body convulsing. "Say it, Sansa." His head reached down for her nipples kissing them lightly. Pain spread through her breast as he bit down lightly.

She sobbed against him as his tongue played with the tender flesh, his other hand toying with her other breast. Inside of her she could feel the length of his manhood, it seemed to pulse inside of her. He bit down hard again. "I won't leave you." She had barely spoken the words before his mouth claimed hers.

His tongue sought permission and when she opened her mouth, his tongue swept inside. He kissed her with such fiery intensity that Sansa felt her entire being would explode from his heat. Her hand found his scarred cheek and stroked over the rough skin. He groaned into her mouth and Sansa sucked his tongue into her mouth, taking the opportunity to swallow his unexpected groan.

Sansa moaned loudly as he began to rock inside of her, setting a pleasing pace for both of them. Pelvis met pelvis as she continued to meet his own hard thrusts with her own. It was becoming easier to copy his movements from this angle and she trembled against him, enjoying the way he moved inside of her.

With a grunt, he quickly flipped them over so he was once more on top. His hands found her knees and pulled them up so they pressed into his chest. Once more, he continued his onslaught on her body. Sansa began to realize that from this angle, whatever place inside of her he had found before was much more stimulated from his movements.

She cried out loudly. Her whole body was on fire. Any moment, she would meet her release. She could feel her body beginning to grow taut as a bowstring. His eyes bore into hers with blistering ferocity. As she got closer her head snapped to the side desperate to get air and escape his stare. Yet, his fingers reached for her chin and forced her gaze back to his. His eyes glimmered under the candlelight, the darkness they omitted swallowed her up. "Cum for me, Sansa." At just these few words, Sansa felt her entire body release and convulse against his.

He continued to thrust inside of her, prolonging the sensations that had built up inside of her. Her hands reached for the sheets tightening her grasp firmly around them. He continued to snap his hips into hers and her gaze found his once more. Sweat was building around his forehead and Sansa could tell he was close to releasing inside of her. His pace quickened causing his thrusts to become more frenzied and rapid. Releasing a strangled cry, Sansa felt his release inside of her. His hips lightly rocked against hers as he continued to ride out his peak before stilling completely.

Sansa could feel his manhood begin to soften inside of her and placed an open-mouthed kiss to his pulsing throat. It was hammering beneath her lips and Sansa felt swelling pride in herself. However dangerous the situation they had placed themselves in, Sansa was certain that what she felt for Sandor was true. Even if he was no knight from the stories she had once cared for, Sansa had never felt more true to herself. Never more sure of what she had done.

"I love you." She whispered.