In the past, whenever Sansa had imagined the night she would lose her maidenhood, not once had she pictured being thrown over her lover's shoulder and hoisted into the bedroom like a sack of potatoes; yet that is exactly what Sandor did.

There had been a roaring fire in the den, plus they now had lots of furry throws there, too. "Why do we need to go in the bedroom? It's warm in the den." Sansa grumbled as he carried her down the hall. He swatted her on the bottom again playfully, although Sansa was surprised to discover there was something strangely erotic about it as well. The sight of the nightstand immediately called to mind what she had seen in his drawer, and the connection between those items and what she was about to do with him brought a deep blush to her cheeks.

"I needs a few things in here, that's why." Sandor grunted against her skin before kissing her delicately in the spot where her hip met her thigh. "We both do." The feel of his scarred mouth so close to her woman's place sent a pleasurable shiver through Sansa's entire body.

With a delicacy surprising in so large a man, Sandor pulled back the down coverlet and settled her down on the bed. The icy sheets beneath her were in such contrast to her warm skin that she gasped audibly. Leaning down, Sandor kissed her softly, unhurriedly, the intimacy of the gesture rendering her suddenly bashful.

"Cold, are you?"

Biting her lip, Sansa nodded while trying to fight the urge to cover herself.

The previous playfulness in Sandor's mood seemed to dissipate as he moved about the room, lighting a candle next to the bed and then turning up the dial on the heat. Anxiously she began fussing with the sheets as she waited, the rustling noise sending Sandor's eyes darting toward her then, a small smile curling on his lips as he watched her carefully arrange the bedding around her.

With a shy smile, Sansa held her arms out to him. It made her feel childish to do so, but at once Sandor was beside her on the bed, and it was clear that she had his full attention. He returned her gaze with a broad grin and he stroked his finger over her cheek before kissing her lightly on the mouth.

Unhurriedly Sansa leaned over to curl her fingers under the waist of his pants. Drawing in a sharp breath, Sandor lifted his hips and she pulled the last of his clothing off, kicking at the material as she went. She giggled shyly as she removed his legs from them, freeing him completely and finally Sansa allowed her eyes to fully take in the entirety of his naked form.

There was no denying that Margaery had the right of it; Sandor was indeed built like Roman Reigns and even more magnificent when completely nude. Fascinated, her eyes drank in his heavily muscled back and chest which tapered into a small waist and his stomach. Nestled in a thick thatch of black curls between his powerful thighs, his manhood stood out away from his body, curving upward and resting just below his belly button.

Goodness, he seems far bigger than an average man. Sansa decided this was normal, seeing that Sandor indeed was larger than most men in all respects. Quietly, Sandor settled on his back, allowing her to get used to him, and then gently he laid her in between his legs.

When she continued to gawk at him, frozen, Sandor finally rasped: "Ever seen a naked man before?" His voice was a heady, equal measure of desire and amusement.

"Of course, I have. I might be a virgin but I don't live in a cave." Sansa answered petulantly, pouting as she spoke. She didn't want him to think she was a complete innocent just because she hadn't been with a man.

"I-I am a nursing student, Sandor, and I've seen my share of them at school."

"At school?" Sandor growled at her, biting her neck before leaning back among the pillows. "Me and that teacher will have plenty to talk about come Monday, you best believe that."

"Not like that," Sansa swiped at his stomach playfully. "In lab and in textbooks."

Throwing back his head, Sandor laughed heartily then. "This is quite a bit different, lass."

"It certainly is." Sansa nodded distractedly as she gingerly allowed her fingers to trail over his thighs and up toward his manhood, the movement silencing his jesting at once. A heavy amount of moisture had formed at the head, signaling his arousal, and Sansa delicately touched the tip of his penis with her finger, marveling at the softness she found there.

"Fucking hells," Sandor swore low, squeezing his eyes closed and shuddering as Sansa continued her innocent exploration. Gingerly she ran her finger down the underside of his shaft before bringing it back around the head once more. Sandor shuddered again with a moan.

"Am I hurting you?" She asked, suddenly concerned.

"No," Sandor gasped out, panting through his mouth as he struggled to control himself. Glancing up to gauge his reaction, Sansa saw that Sandor's eyes had rolled back, his head lolling as he arched his hips toward her hands.

She decided she liked having this measure of control over such a fierce man as Sandor. Feeling braver, Sansa carefully spread his wetness over the entire head of his penis, her actions drawing a long gasp followed by a deep moan from Sandor's throat. Before long, there was far more wetness there, Sansa noticed and so curiously she dipped her head to taste him.

Curling around her, Sandor's thighs trembled and he let out a sharp cry as Sansa inexpertly flicked her tongue over his head. He tastes salty and masculine and so very wonderful, she thought as she experimented with taking the tip into her mouth, hoping that her boldness would not offend him.

"Gods," he panted louder, then moaned and restlessly tossed his head from side to side as she continued to alternately taste and rub his member with her fingers. The sounds coming from his throat made it seem as though she was doing something right and so encouraged, Sansa continued fluctuating between lightly suckling and licking the head of his penis and stroking him. Realizing she was neglecting his testicles, Sansa palmed them carefully with a light squeeze.

Unexpectedly Sandor pushed her away, his entire body shaking heavily as he abruptly grabbed her hands. "Fuck, it's been too long-I'm going to come," Sandor managed to gasp out when he saw her startled expression.

"Well then, come," Sansa purred while taking his member in both her hands, squeezing lightly before giving him another long, slow pull. Her effort was quickly rewarded by the feel of warm liquid spilling over her hands, while his hot breath warmed the crook of her neck with each moan. Shuddering once more, Sandor then fell back onto the pillows, his entire body trembling as he did.

She knew she should be embarrassed or at the very least shocked but Sansa was none of those things: the very idea that she had given something so enjoyable and intimate to the man she loved thrilled her. Delighted, Sansa turned to Sandor with a big smile, the young woman clearly pleased with herself.

"Oh, Sandor-I feared I would not please you, since I know so little."

After gaping at her, Sandor finally rasped out, "You know plenty, lass." His breathing slowed. "Bloody hells but you made a fool of me. I haven't done such I was a lad." Sheepishly, Sandor grabbed a towel from his dresser and gently wiped her hands.

"But that's good, right? I mean, isn't that what is supposed to happen?" Sansa wrinkled her nose, confused by his apparent mortification.

"Aye but not so quick, and not before you had your own pleasure, Sansa." Sandor leaned over and growled into her neck. Affectionately he kissed the back of her neck before making his way over Sansa's shoulder and down to her breast once more.

"We have all night; let's just let things happen as they will," she said quietly, running her hands over his shoulders as he settled in between her legs while kissing each nipple.

Leisurely Sandor tasted her while he caressed his hands down her body. Murmuring contentedly, Sansa curled into him with each movement, for her body wanted more of Sandor, more of his touch, more of everything. Something was building within in, calling to her, throbbing in her core and begging to be satisfied. With each touch Sandor was creating such a haze of pleasure that Sansa was stunned to feel his tongue, first on her breasts move low on her belly and then tease her folds, the feeling so delicious and intense that she cried out with abandon at the motions of Sandor's tongue.

Sandor made contented noises, humming against her flesh as he explored her with his mouth. Slowly Sansa felt herself letting go, though the wetness pooling between her legs made her momentarily self-conscious until she realized Sandor savored the taste of her. With every pass of his tongue, he made a low "ah" noise and then suckled softly on the nub at the apex of her thighs.

"Sweet," Sandor breathed against her tender flesh, the warmth of his skin washing over her. "So very sweet, Little bird, just as I knew you'd be."

Panting, Sansa tried to answer him but all that managed to come from her throat was a long moan.

Somewhere beneath her, Sandor chuckled. "That's it, lass; sing for me."

Gripping the sheets, Sansa arched herself toward him, her hips falling into a rhythm that matched the movements of his tongue, until suddenly the most exquisite sensation she had ever known washed over her. In that moment she felt Sandor thrust his index finger inside and began stroking her in a rhythmic motion until Sansa cried out again and again, only slowing his movements when she shuddered out her release and then steadily increasing them again until she reached another.

When the sensation became too much for her, Sansa pulled away, her folds now swollen and ripe and pleasantly tender. Ripples of pleasure flowed through her as she lay panting, her woman's place still contracting with the residual pleasure of her orgasms. Sated, she watched as Sandor moved over her and reached into the nightstand. His member was swollen and wet. She watched, transfixed, as he rubbed his fingers over her woman's place once more and spread the wetness over his penis, then gave himself a long stroke, groaning and tipping back his head before he slipped on the condom.

"We won't need anything else but your own sweetness," Sandor whispered against her breast as he climbed back beside her. Gently he caressed the inside of her thigh, dragging his fingertips along her tender flesh until he nestled them between her slick folds once more. "Fuck but you're wet and ready."

"Please, please," Sansa whimpered, begging him, her entire body trembling at the thought of what he was about to do. Take me, make me yours, Sansa tried to articulate her words but she could not. "I need…"

"What?" Sandor breathed into her shoulder as he positioned himself at her entrance. "Tell me. Say it."

Sansa was unsure if he wanted her to try dirty talk just then, as Margaery told her some men enjoyed, but all she could manage was: "Sandor I need you inside of me."

At her words, Sandor thrust into her slowly, his forearms shaking with restraint as he alternately cried out her name and swore as he did so. Her inner muscles tightened around him so that when Sandor finally was sheathed inside of her, he could hardly move.

Burying her face in his neck, Sansa squeezed her eyes closed and wrapped him tightly against her, expecting a pain that did not come. Instead she found that when filled up by Sandor, the expectant throbbing of her woman's place melted into the singular sensation of being completely joined to him that brought her body to the edge of bliss as he began to move.

Sighing, Sansa wriggled beneath him contentedly. Above her, Sandor froze, frustrating Sansa since she was becoming anxious for him to move. With a long moan Sansa pressed her hips into his, hoping to signal her eagerness to him. When still he did not move, she wrapped her legs around his waist and tilted her hips, drawing his manhood still deeper into her body.

"Sansa, gods, lass, you feel good," Sandor kissed her brow tenderly before she heard his rough voice pleading, "Look at me."

Glassy eyed, Sansa fixed her eyes on Sandor's own deep gray regard and as soon as she met his gaze, he started thrusting into her, slow at first and then measuredly picking up the pace, all the while watching her eyes. The intimacy of it nearly took her breath away, and Sansa felt tears prick her eyes as she watched him in return.

As the pressure began to build in her core, Sansa clumsily tried matching his cadence, and even though she felt horribly awkward, the sounds she drew from him with each movement of her hips told her that Sandor was pleased with her just as she was. Soon the pleasant throbbing ache began inside her as Sandor pumped his hips into her faster and harder, groaning as she whined and rolled her head in ecstasy.

"Sansa," he panted into her ear. "Are you close?"

With the myriad of sensations washing over her, Sansa couldn't be sure; it was hard to single out one pleasure among the many delights his body was giving her. Before Sansa could answer, Sandor reached between them and caressed the place between her legs with his calloused fingers that he previously had with his tongue, working small circles there until her pleasure became as centered and acute as it had been when he loved her with his mouth and fingers.

Suddenly everything came together within Sansa at once, culminating in a pleasure unlike any other that exploded inside of her. Overcome, Sansa veritably screamed out his name, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she completely surrendered to the passion surging through her entire body. Shuddering, she felt her woman's place clench tightly against him once more until Sandor's manhood pulsed deep inside her.

Throwing back his head, Sandor cried out several times, his body quivering with each pleasurable pang. Panting, he then collapsed against her breast, and to her utter surprise, Sandor began trembling for true. Soothingly Sansa encircled him with her arms, unsure what to do next.

"I love you, Sandor." The words just slipped out of her mouth. Biting her lip, she held her breath for his response.

For a long moment Sandor remained silent. Confused, Sansa began to worry that she did something wrong until she felt the wetness of his tears dampen her skin. "As I love you, lass," his inaudible whisper reverberated against her flesh. "You're more than I ever allowed myself to think I could have in this life."

"You are the same for me, Sandor, you must believe that." Sansa's own tears kissed her cheeks. "And we have a lifetime of togetherness ahead."

Sandor remained silent then and pulled her closer still, resting his head in between her breasts. Once the upheaval of the moment had quieted between them, Sandor eased off of her and gathered her into his arms, laid her against his chest and stroked her skin as their breathing slowed to a normal pace.

Though seemingly calmed, Sandor continued to grip her painfully, as though he were afraid she would somehow escape his grasp, but Sansa understood. They had just discovered something beautiful and special together, an oasis, and for two damaged people such as them, a fragile, delicate peace that neither of them wanted to disturb.

After losing her family, Sansa appreciated it all too well, the desire to not let go of someone who gives you the precious gift of love. Nestling down against his chest, Sansa soon began to dose off, soothed by the feeling of Sandor's calloused fingertips slowly tracing circles over her low back and the feel of his steady heartbeat against her ear.

Before long, Sandor's worried words reached her ears, awakening her. "Sansa, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," Sansa propped herself up on one elbow, smiled and then leaned over and kissed him. He must have seen the blood on the sheets. "You have made me so very happy, Sandor. I am completely contented."

When he still frowned, Sansa wondered how he could even ask such a thing, given the sense of wonder she felt at the exquisite delight his body had provided her. Just as she was about to ask him about it, he carefully moved out from under her and went to the restroom. When Sandor returned, he set a warm basin of water and a cloth on the nightstand and proceeded to clean the maiden's blood from her thighs with gentle, even strokes. "You aren't in pain?" He raised his eyebrow at her.

"No, not at all. In fact, I am very sleepy." Sansa leaned back and gazed up to the skylight as they sunk against the pillows. "Sandor, I love you. Now, come to me," she held out her arms once more to him. "Come here and relax with me. Look at that." She pointed up to the skylight. "The stars are peeking through the snow clouds."

"My little bird." Sandor whispered against her temple as he stroked her hair. They lay entwined in each other's arms while exchanging kisses and caresses while watching as the clouds move above them suspended, until the moonlight vanished and thick snowflakes began to fall once more. Eventually, Sandor's grip on her body loosened and his breathing became deeper.

Cautiously Sansa turned on her side so she could watch him as he slept. Sandor loved her and she loved him and no matter what the future held in store or what the gods had planned for them, Sansa was grateful for this moment with him. As she brushed the hair away from the scarred side of Sandor's face, she gave a silent prayer of thanks to both her father and mother's gods for bringing them together and uniting them as a man and a woman, in body as well as heart.

Sansa must have dozed off, for the next thing she knew Sandor was holding her tightly, gathering her together with the sheets and down comforter in his arms.

"What is it?" Sansa whispered against his chest. In the dark she could not make out the expression on Sandor's face but she felt tension in his body, now pulled taut. Reaching out, Sansa cupped his cheek. "Sandor what is it? Did the heat go out?"

"No, we're going to the den." His voice sounded strange, forced.

"I can walk-"

"No, I've got you, lass," His fingers dug painfully into her hip and so she submitted. Not knowing what else to do, Sansa ran her hands soothingly over his shoulders. "Alright, let's go to the sofa then."

Without a word Sandor then lifted her easily and carried her into the den. Avoiding her questioning gaze, he methodically nested her down among the bedding before curling his body around her protectively.

"I'll keep you safe," she felt him whisper against her neck. "No one will ever hurt you again or I'll kill them."

"I know, love." Sansa kissed his chest. "I know."

Nuzzling into her hair, Sandor didn't answer. After pulling her back tightly against his chest, he wrapped both arms around her waist, and soon, Sansa felt him settle into a sound asleep.