He'd been looking for an excuse to kiss the little bird - my little bird - for what seemed like forever. They hadn't had a moment alone at Sunspear, and he'd known better than to do it in the litter on the way to the docks - there wouldn't have been enough time for what could have - would have - ensued. But now, thanks to the bastard-born lover of Oberyn Martell, Sandor and Sansa were alone in this cabin - alone, and with a door that they could actually lock behind them. It's like to be hours before someone even tries to disturb us, Sandor knew. It all seemed too good to be true, but for once he forced himself to forget all of that and take advantage of the situation. Sansa Stark was well on her way to having her marriage annulled, and surely that was something for them to celebrate.
As Sandor kissed her he slid his hands up her body until his thumbs and forefingers were tucked under her breasts. He ran his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them respond immediately to his touch thanks to the thin sandsilk of the gown she wore. Sansa pressed herself into his hands, and Sandor couldn't help but break their kiss and chuckle. He bent down and snarled, "I knew you liked it when I was mean," into her ear, biting at its lobe before running his lips back along her jawline to kiss her again. The look in her eyes was one of consternation, but Sansa didn't object to him clutching her body against his and backing toward the larger of the two beds. When the backs of his knees connected with the pallet he sat down heavily, pulling her into his lap. Sansa squirmed a bit, spreading her legs until she was straddling him, his cock pressed against her in a way that was like to drive both of them mad with desire.
She pulled away from him for a moment, her eyes heavy-lidded with passion and searching for his own. "We...we should still be..."
Careful. "I know, little bird," he admitted, though he hated to say as much and hated that he couldn't have her right now, that he hadn't yet been able to have her yet, that he didn't know when he'd be able to truly have her... "But that doesn't mean we can't..."
Sansa smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, and when she did so Sandor laid back on the bed, dragging her with him, relishing the feel of her body stretched out on top of his. When she pulled away from his hold he grunted in frustration, but no sooner had he done so than Sansa was removing her loose, flowing gown and tossing it aside - and her perfection rendered him speechless. He reached for her, wanting more than anything to pull her against him, but then he stopped and instead gently ran his fingertips down her body, starting at her collarbone and slowly working his way over her breasts and the smooth, supple skin of her stomach. Sandor placed his palms on the tops of Sansa's thighs and spread his fingers, massaging her with them until she tipped her head back and let loose a quiet, "Oh!"
With that one small exclamation from her, Sandor could no longer hold himself back. He propped himself up on one elbow and wrapped his free arm around the back of her neck, bringing her head toward his and kissing her deeply as he rolled his hips beneath her. He felt more than heard Sansa's moan as she moved in kind, grasping at his shoulders and then his arms, trying to find purchase for her hands as she and Sandor kissed in an almost frantic manner. Finally Sandor steadied himself, wrapped his arms around Sansa, and pulled her down next to him on the bed. "How much time do you think we have?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Not enough," she teased, hitching her leg over his hip and pulling herself against him.
"Probably too much," he taunted in reply, unable to keep his mouth from twitching up into a smile. Sandor reached out and pushed a thick lock of hair away from Sansa's face, then kissed her again - gently, this time. "At least enough to take our time. For once."
"And if I don't want us to 'take our time'?" Sansa reached down between them and pressed her hand against his cock. Sandor had to take a deep breath before he could speak again.
"So eager," he mused aloud. Almost too much so, for me... She was a maid, it had been proven...surely that was enough? She wanted him, she loved him, and gods be good, he loved her as well. He'd only told her so once and part of him wanted to tell her again, right now, but Sandor stopped himself. She knew how he felt, and if he said those words again - said them now, of all times - he understood that there would be no stopping what was bound to follow. Instead he pressed his cock into her palm and wrapped one long arm around her, caressing her arse as he moved his hand down and between her legs from behind. As always her desire was plain in the wetness of her folds, and after so much time with her he now parted them with ease, dipping a finger inside of her and nearly grinning as she shuddered against him.
Suddenly Sansa pulled away, and before Sandor understood what she was doing she had grabbed hold of his breeches and was attempting to divest him of them. "I want to feel you, really feel you, it's been too long..." she breathed. Sandor thought about denying her, knowing that having no clothing between them was a dangerous thing - but she wants it, he told himself, and that was all it took to convince him to give in. He rolled away from her just long enough to push, pull, and kick his breeches off, then he faced her again.
"Turn around," Sandor insisted. Sansa cocked her head, looking confused for a moment. "Go on," he told her. Don't make me have to remind you that you can trust me...
She obeyed, and Sandor pressed himself against her back, his rock-hard cock slipping easily between her legs and nestling against her cunt as if it belonged there. He used one hand to move her hair out of the way and tucked his face against her neck, breathing in her scent and nipping gently at her skin as he slowly moved his hips back and forth, back and forth, the friction of her wet folds and soft upper thighs making it almost seem as if he was truly inside her. He reached up and pinched one of her nipples between thumb and forefinger and relished in the way she sucked in her breath and began moving with him, slowly at first, and then faster, faster, as he increased the pressure on her nipple, twisting it ever so slightly, forgetting for a moment that he may be hurting her as he lost himself, "Fuck, Sansa, little bird, gods, Sansa, Sansa, San - "
His own climax cut him off just in time for her to grab hold of his wrist and say, perhaps a bit too loudly, "Harder!" Sandor instinctively knew what she meant and his fingers followed the motion of her hand, twisting so hard that he knew he must be hurting her, but then it didn't matter as her entire body convulsed against his and she whimpered his name, "Sandor," so quietly that he almost didn't hear it. In response he released her nipple and moved his hand down to cup the small round curve of her lower belly, feeling the stickiness of Sansa's wet and his own seed between them. Sandor couldn't help but reach between her legs and spread the moisture amongst her folds and up the shaft of his cock. I want her again, now, he realized, but he knew that trying anything like this a second time - so soon - wasn't safe. Whether or not they had the time to do so was one thing...whether or not he could control himself...well, that was an issue as well. A highly questionable one. Sandor pulled his hand away and tucked it between her hip and the pallet below them, drawing Sansa as close to him as was physically possible.
For now, he supposed, holding her would just have to do.
Give her something, you fool, a voice inside of him said. "Little bird..." Sandor paused. Hadn't he just told himself that saying this was a bad idea? You were in the heat of the moment. It can't hurt anything now. "Sansa," he continued decisively, "I love you."
"Mmm," was her simple, mumbled response, and as her breathing slowed and it became clear that she had fallen asleep, Sandor wondered if she'd even heard him. Seven hells, that just figures.
He would have rolled his eyes, but sleep was overtaking him as well, so instead Sandor simply closed them and allowed himself to rest, truly rest, for what seemed the first time in a long time.