"I'm cold," I confessed, as I stood there naked in my room. I shivered in the coolness of night, anxiously waiting for Petyr's lips to return to mine, for his scorching hot hands to seep into my frozen skin. Petyr was imperceptible, his silent figure hidden within the shadows, which lingered long in my room on this dark, stormy night.

"Then let me warm you," Petyr replied. His infallible hands returned to smooth down my icy skin, and enrapture me in his warm embrace. "How's that?"

"Better," I breathed into the nook of his neck. His hands circled around my slender waist, drawing heat to the center of my body, flushing it upward till it reached the bottom of my breasts. His hands froze, aware he had reached a boundary, though he wished to trespass this unforbidden territory like a thief in the night. I saw the way his eyes darkened, glazed over with lustful desire, and yet, his hands remained where it was- fixed on the borderline of my voluptuous breasts. "It's okay, Petyr," I said, before I reached for his hand and guided it upward, till his hand was nuzzled between them. "I trust you."

His hand began to wander, curiously feeling the soft swell and fall of my full ripening breasts; climbing up its mountain peak: frigid and bare- unbeknown to anyone but him. He was the first to kiss it, to let his lips trail along the ivory mountain, tasting the mounds of snow. The crescent moon unexpectedly appeared in the night sky, sending a brilliant ray of light into my room, and it was there that I saw Petyr for the first time: black-raven locks dishevelled and hanging down his face, as he continued to stoop over to press his lustrous lips upon my mountain peak. The light caught his attention, and he looked up at me with brilliant black eyes. A shadow cast across the side of his face, while the other was illuminated in light. He looked like a god, a god of darkness- of night; bourne from the gates of hell itself. O, and how he looked at me at that moment! Eyes burning like hot embers, impenetrable to most, but I could see the sweltering flames of passion, desire, carnal lust held within his orbs.

His snowy white hands hurriedly unclasped his jetty cloak, before he tossed it to his feet. His great golden doublet was scrunched firmly in his hand as if he detested the very thing, no longer was the fine fabric and mockingbird pin his object of desire. Like a snake sheds his skin, Petyr pulled off his doublet in a slow, painful fashion, allowing me enough time to see the infamous scar that severed his smooth, ivory skin. In a blink of an eye, his clothes were gone and he stood before me naked as the day he was born, and yet, it was a man's body that I saw: well toned and firm, with pale, sallow like skin that had never seen the light of day; his hair was wild like raven's feathers fluttering about in the cool breeze, and the scar that pierced through his chest made him look dangerous, like the untamed animal he seemed to be as he grabbed a hold of my hand and led me to bed.

The moon hid behind the coal-black skies, as if its mighty rays feared to see our shameless desires. Petyr sunk lower into my fragile frame. His wet, slick kisses glided down my face, while he eased his way into me. Ever so gently, he pushed his weight down on me, as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear. I could feel the pressure- the tightness, which made me wish to recoil from the persistent pressure upon my sex. His hands worked around my body, fluttering around like a wild frantic bird, fearful that I would slip away at any moment. His luscious lips lathered my mouth, and his tongue slipped its way into my sphere- my garden of exotic fruit, tasting of sweet lemon and ripe pomegranates. I felt a throbbing inside of me now, as he pushed himself in deeper, and all at once, pain gave way to pleasure. I let out a sharp exhale, my knees buckled, my hip jutted further down into the bed. I breathed, and yet, each breathe escaped me quicker than ever before as slammed into me. The coil of the bed creaked, drowning out the howling wind outside my cabin window. "You must be quiet, love," he whispered into my ear. "This next part… it may make you want to scream out my name."

"Oh, you would like that wouldn't you," I retorted.

"More than you could ever know," he said slyly. All was quiet, but for a moment, until he thrust himself inside of me at an unyielding pressure, ramming into the barrier with such force that I let out a sharp whine, a suppressed scream as I bit down at my lips with teary eyes. Again, and again, and again he stormed his way through, and all the pressure bottled inside of me like a bottle of champagne threatening to burst. His lips were my balm, O, it was my succor as he covered my kiss-swollen lips with his own. So dark and fierce were his kisses, a hunger seemed to drive him, as if he could never be satisfied with its taste. He growled out my name, before he bit down hard on my neck and nibbled at the raw skin. I stretched out my neck to allow him more access, it felt so good- why did it feel so good? He forced his way into me again, and then suddenly I felt like the clouds could break open and the rain could beat down on the ship and the sailors would still hear me scream- for I did scream now in pure, unmolested ecstasy as Petyr reached his peak. "Shhh!" he said, and covered my lips quickly to prevent any further incursion. I moaned into his mouth, for it was too much to pressure to bear on my own. Petyr remained inside of me, while his body grew limp and laid atop of my mine. I kissed his smooth ivory cheek, and watched as it fell against my collar bone and then nuzzle firmly against my neck. I could feel his heart beating, thrashing out from his lean frame. "Oh, Sansa! My sweet, sweet Sansa," he murmured into the darkness.

"I know, Petyr, you don't have to say it," I hushed, as my fingers stroked through his divine-like locks. I knew it by the way he stroked his finger down my frame and the gentle kisses he showered across my neck that he loved me. He didn't have to say it in words, for his amorous looks and affectionate gestures said it all.

"I should pull myself out now," he groaned, his lips brushing against my neck as he said it. "But I want to stay in you for a little while longer."

"Of course, you do," I mused aloud, while stroking his hair away from his face.

"I belong in you, just as you belong to me," he contemplated.

"Is that so?" I asked, noticing he was pushing himself in deeper again. My hips bulked from the newfound pressure, my sex throbbing as Petyr forced himself into my frame.

"Oh, Sansa! This is right! This is where I should be," he growled into my ear.

A sweet sensation came over me, sending me on a high, in which I never wanted to come back down. I let out a loud moan, unable to stifle my cries any further. Suddenly, he thrust into me so hard I screamed, "Oh, god! Petyr! I- can't- take- it- anymore! No, please, for the love of god stop! PEEETTTTYYYRRR!"

"Shhhhhh!" he answered back. He paused to smother me with kisses, and to wipe the tears streaming from my eyes.

"Oh, Petyr!" I wailed, while shaking my head in distress. "You truly are a wicked man!"

"Oh, my sweet Sansa," he breathed, while his thumb brushed across my glossy lips. "You did well, truly."

"It's so hard," I groaned. "I- I just want to…"

"Another time, perhaps, when I don't have over a hundred sailors on my ship who are familiar with the sound of a wench screaming. Come, come, Sansa, don't be so distressed. Here let me make it better," he said slyly, before he planted me with a kiss, but this time it was slow and steady, drawing out each kiss till I moaned with pleasure. "Now, there's a good girl."

"I'm not a girl!" I shot back.

"No, you're a woman. How else could I managed to be so deep inside of you," He teased, and to prove his point he pushed into me again.

"Petyr, please!" I whimpered. My nails dug down his back, unable to take anymore of it.

Petyr eased himself now, resting his aching body over mine. Sweat was dripping down his spine, pooling around his lower back, and beading around his chest. He was hot to the touch, like a blazing fire on a hot summer night. His hair was damp, as was his forehead and cheek which he pressed against my own. In a soothing voice he said, "When your so close to me- like you are now, I get the feeling that are fates are tied together. Intricately knotted, never to be torn apart."

I grunted in reply, feeling slightly puzzled by Petyr's manner of speech, and the way he intertwined our fingers together to emphasis his point.

"You are the light to my darkness, and I am the darkness to your light," he said in a chilling voice. He leant down to kiss me lightly on my forehead. While he brushed my auburn tresses away from my sweaty brow he whispered, "Remember that, Sansa, always."