A/N: Thank you for the comments and reviews!
On the drive home, there were so many things Sansa wanted to say to Sandor, so much she wanted to share with him. But the excitement of the situation went to her head, it seemed to her, for all she could manage was to smile and cling to him, the young woman overwhelmed by the thrill of having her husband finally home at last.
She slid over on the bench seat next to him until their legs touched, the move bringing a rumbling laugh from him as he wrapped one arm around her while the other managed the wheel. As Sandor drove, Sansa took the opportunity to study him closely. Despite all he had been through, he was even more muscular and intimidating than the last time she saw him. Though not as long as when they first met, his black hair had grown in, much to her delight. Sandor's complexion was deeply tanned while his deep grey eyes stood in shimmering contrast to his skin. After a few awkward glances out of the corner of his eye, Sandor turned to her questioningly.
"You look so handsome, Sandor, truly." Sansa beamed up at him by way of explanation. Raising a brow, he studied her for a moment, then broke into a grin at her girlish enthusiasm.
"And you're even prettier than your picture, lass, and a sight to soothe sore eyes like mine." A sudden seriousness clouded his eyes as Sandor leaned over and kissed her soundly when they stopped at the light.
"The gods gave you the battle and your mission was a success," Sansa softly commented. "Jaime should make a full recovery."
"Aye but an empty victory it was…" Sandor clenched his jaw tightly, his words at once confusing Sansa. "Missing you hurt more than anything, believe that, and not worth any price."
"I missed you too, Sandor, more than I thought possible." Sadly Sansa clutched his arm with both hands, hugging him to her chest and pulling him closer. "The entire time you were gone, I planned for this day, Sandor. I prayed for it. I even bought this outfit just for you." Self-consciously she smoothed down her dress and arranged her skirt and then glanced up at him, waiting for his approval.
Sandor laughed knowingly, his eyes softening as he looked her over once more. "I know, lass. I felt you there…with me. I did some planning myself, you know."
Her curiosity piqued, Sansa leaned in closer. "I wanted to surprise you, and when I called to ask about your next shift, Mrs. Tyrell told me you'd been out shopping. That's why she put the bug in your ear to dress up today."
"So that's what that was about!" Gasping, Sansa shook her head and then burst out laughing. "I should have known something was up. I'm so gullible!"
"No, little bird, just innocent is all." Sandor caressed her blushing cheek thoughtfully. "You are beautiful, lass, as is your dress, but I look forward to getting you out of it."
"I look forward to that, too," Blushingly she stared at her feet. "I have missed-well, I missed our intimacy ever so much."
"As have I. I dreamed of having you in my bed every night." Leaning over, Sandor gently kissed her neck, inhaling deeply and nuzzling her there. For once Sansa was grateful for lengthy small town traffic signals as she reveled in the feel of him.
"How is your injury, Sandor?" Sansa asked quietly, the young woman unable to refrain from asking one minute longer. "Jaime said it wasn't too serious and you look so well that I'm inclined to believe him."
"The lion's got the right of it. Almost all healed," she heard her husband mutter in between kisses, the feel of his mouth swiftly chasing the rest of her questions from her mind. "Stitches are out. I can put my weight on it and bath proper, but I probably will have a limp from now on."
Gently Sandor embraced her once again, the man seemingly content just to hold her until the car behind them began honking. Sandor said no more about his wound, physical or otherwise, and Sansa, remembering Jaime's advice, didn't pry.
When they pulled in front of the house, Sandor immediately began looking the place over. "Looks like you've been a busy little bird," he smiled approvingly while fingering the blue star flag hanging from the freshly painted door post.
"I-I hoped you would like it." Sansa's eyes demurely fell to her feet, the new bride suddenly feeling shy in her husband's presence now that they were finally together, at home. He must be wondering why I changed so many things…I hope he isn't mad.
"Everything seemed to fall apart around the place after you left." Sansa commented, then inwardly cursed her clumsy attempt at explanation. "The roof leaked into the den and the pipe broke in the bathroom wall."
Gritting his teeth, Sandor stuffed his hands in his pockets and shook his head as he eyed the new gutters. "Isn't that the way it always happens? Everything's fine until I leave and then all hell breaks loose." He turned to her then, his eyes silently asking for more details as he moved beside her.
"I know, right?" Sansa nervously wrung her hands, wondering if Loras had told her husband about Joffrey as well; biting her tongue, she decided she would shelve that conversation for later. "But it was okay. I have some money saved from the trust my parents left for me, so I went ahead and had the repairs done. I-I tried to keep everything similar to the way it was when you left."
"This is your home too, wife, and I'm glad you handled everything for me while I was gone." The feel of his large warm hand caressing her cheek urged Sansa to raise her eyes to his gaze. "You did good, little bird. The place looks fine, real fine. Next week I'll pass the receipts to the insurance company so you'll be reimbursed."
"Really?" Sansa wasn't expecting that. "We'll be able to take a nice honeymoon based on what I spent."
"Sounds good. Wherever you want to go, little bird, you just name the place and we'll go." Sandor rasped low as he took her by the hand and led her into the house. Flushed, she nodded excitedly at him. Maybe they could go to Disneyworld, or Switzerland, or maybe Paris.
Tugging at her hand lightly, Sandor chuckled. "Show me the rest."
Eagerly Sansa showed Sandor the den and then led him into the remodeled bathroom. Silently he took everything in, and once again Sansa wondered if he was angry. "Sorry, but I had to get rid of the closet to accommodate our new tub."
A small smile quirked the corner of Sandor's lips as he eyed her hungrily. "Nice. Big enough for two." He grinned wickedly at her. He was so big he seemed to take up the entire room. Leaning in, he brushed her hair out of her eyes. "You got designs on me, little bird?"
"Yes," Sansa's cheeks reddened further at her admission. It was overwhelming, to have him so close after the eternity she spent hoping and praying for his return. Being close to him had made Sansa feverish with want, and the young woman wondered if he felt the same. "That was the idea," Sansa reluctantly turned away from his intense regard. "I took measurements based on your clothing to make sure you would fit."
His eyes darkened as Sandor held his hand out to her and then leaned down and turned on the faucet. "Come now, let's break it in, then." She could feel Sandor's gaze as though it was a physical caress but she kept her eyes lowered while a shiver of anticipation went through her.
What would he say if I told him I wanted him here, now? Do I dare be so forward with him? Once more Sandor's hand lightly caressed her face along her jawline, stirring her from her thoughts and so shyly she smiled, her cheeks flushing heatedly as she glanced up at him through lowered lashes. "I-I would like that very much."
"There it is," Sandor crowed as he cupped her face, running the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks. "I've missed your sweet blushing, wife. You're shaking, too. Frightened of me now, are you?" He moved his hands to her waist, tracing his thumbs there while he waited for her to speak.
The feel of his large warm hands sent a rush of desire through her. Biting her lip, Sansa finally shook her head. "No, I'm just feeling a bit shy is all. It's silly, I know. I don't know why I should be thus, other than-"
Trembling, her words trailed off as Sandor pulled her close. She melted into his embrace.
"Other than what?" Sandor leaned in, his words whispered against her mouth yet he did not kiss her, which frustrated Sansa to no end. Trying to calm her breathing, Sansa could feel that her face was flushed hot from the sudden rush of lust Sandor was eliciting from her, causing her body to veritably beg for his touch. Breathless with anticipation, it took her a moment to form her thoughts into words.
"Other than it feels like the first time to me, you know."
Sandor quirked an eyebrow at her questioningly.
"It feels like it's the first time that we spend the night together."
Grinning, he nodded as his eyes fell to her lips.
"And I want you, Sandor, so very badly." Shaking, Sansa blushed crimson. "I-I love you and I have ached for you since the day you left." Standing on her toes, she pressed her mouth against his and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Immediately Sandor gathered her into his arms and began heatedly kissing her, his lips traveling down her jawline to the expanse of her throat and then to the bodice of her dress. The feel of his hardened muscular chest pressed tightly against Sansa's body brought a gasp from her lips. Deliberately she swiveled her hips against him, the movement earning a guttural moan from her husband's throat.
Sansa wanted him desperately, wanted to be joined to him in body as well as heart but she also didn't want to Sandor to think her too desperate or impatient. Slowly, Sansa drew a deep breath as she ran her hands down to his lapels and grasped at his uniform. Tenderly, Sandor grazed his mouth against her own, his tongue stroking her lips, urging her to follow his lead. Sansa shyly parted her lips to touch her tongue to his own and Sandor groaned in approval, the man trembling as he tightened his arms around her waist. She wanted more of him, so much more, and desperately wanted to feel his skin against her own but she did not know how to let him know it.
When Sandor finally slipped his tongue into her mouth, Sansa welcomed him with an urgency and passion that surprised her. Hurriedly her fingers fell to the buttons of his shirt and deftly she undid them until he pulled away.
"I love you, Sansa. More than anything or anyone. I'll never leave you again." Sandor finally spoke, resting his head against her forehead. "I have so much to make up to you." Sansa moved to cup his cheek and he swallowed hard, as though he was trying to gain the mastery over his emotions.
Finally his lip curled into a wicked grin as Sandor took in her figure. "You look good enough to eat in that dress."
"I hoped you would like it. I planned the whole outfit just for you." Laughing low, Sansa moved away, batted her eyes at him and spinning around on her heels deliberately, giving Sandor the opportunity to take in her look.
His gaze lowered from her face to slowly drink in the rest of her body, his eyes trailing over her curves and down to her seamed stockings and heels, whistling low as he did so. "A delicious little bird you are in that getup." He rubbed his hands over her hips and whispered into her ear. "Now let's get you out of it." It was as if he read her mind. She felt him tugging on the zipper with a delicacy that surprised her while the feel of his hot breath on her neck sent pleasurable shivers up Sansa's spine.
The warmth from his body heated her blood; they were so close and yet still not close enough for Sansa. She longed to tear his clothes off of him and let him have his way with her, but Sandor's movements were so tender and wonderful that Sansa was determined she would not let her overwhelming desire for him break the spell.
She could feel her husband's heart beating hard in his chest against her back, just as it did the first night they spent together. It flashed into Sansa's mind that, in many ways, this was a first for the both of them; it would be their first lovemaking as husband and wife, their first night together, Sandor's first evening home from the war, the first day of their future as husband and wife. The verity of the situation seemed inflected in each touch, each caress and Sansa was determined they would enjoy every moment.
Sighing, Sansa relaxed in Sandor's arms, leaning into him while his tongue traced small circles over her pulse point. One hand pushed the dress off of her shoulders and the other at her waist kept her from moving away from him. Before Sansa knew it, she was standing in front of Sandor in only her bra, panties, garters and hose, her dress now pooled around her ankles.
Sandor struggled to control his breathing as his eyes roamed over her heatedly. "You're fucking perfect. Mayhap we'll wait until after for the bath." He growled suggestively into her ear while he traced his fingers over her breasts. Sandor turned off the water and then set about unhooking her bra and letting it slide down her shoulders before he continued on down her stomach, tracing his index finger over her slit outside of her panties while he waited for her acquiescence to continue.
The heat between her legs was aching and throbbing, and Sansa could tell by the heated look on Sandor's face that he found her undergarments were soaked with the wetness of her desire. "Everything about you feels so good Sandor."
Turning to face him, Sansa moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, kicking off her underwear as she did so, and Sandor growled as they thrust their hips hard against each other, their bodies settling into a languorous rhythm while their mouths hungrily sought out the other in a desperate need to get closer. "Sandor…please…I need you…" She gasped between kisses.
Reluctantly Sandor pulled away and began undressing. Dazedly her eyes fell to his manhood, which was heavy and swollen with desire and leaking a clear fluid from the tip. After shedding his clothing, Sandor easily lifted her into his arms and grasped her bottom with both hands as Sansa wrapped her legs around his waist. The ache between her legs had become unbearable, and eagerly she matched his pace as Sandor continued grinding into her while muttering words of love into her neck. Moaning, she threw her head back and found her release while crying out his name.
"Gods but you're soaked for me." Growling out a slew of low curses, Sandor then set her down on her feet, dropping to his knees. She held his head as he began pressing his mouth against her belly, kissing her, clinging to her while he rested his face there. A choking noise came from Sandor's throat, and Sansa felt hot tears wet her skin. Tenderly she ran her fingers through his hair, remaining silent while she waited as Sandor struggled to regain his composure.
After a few moments, Sandor seemingly gathered himself. Abruptly he stood, lifted her into his arms and then pressed her against the wall, rubbing his hardened manhood hotly against her woman's place.
The pressure of his cock massaging her clit brought another hot wave of lust to her belly. "Sandor, please, I need you…" Shamelessly Sansa wriggled and arched her back and cried out his name as she felt another flood of wetness soak them both. "I can't wait, Sandor! Take me, please…" She practically begged, and though she had never been less ladylike, Sansa didn't care one wit; all she wanted was her husband.
"Such an eager little bird you are, wife," Sandor delightedly murmured against her skin as he carried her toward their bed, her legs still wrapped tightly around him. "I'll give you what you need, wife."
Without any hesitation Sandor settled her onto the bed and lowered his hips, and suddenly Sansa felt his hot, hard cock sliding along the folds of her aching slit before he entered her with one swift upward thrust, pulling an unrestrained cry of pleasure from Sansa's throat. Her nails raked down his back while she grasped him for purchase as he began thrusting into her.
Sansa's passionate response to him seemed to shatter Sandor's restraint, and he slammed into her again and again, groaning and crying out her name with each thrust. Her head lolling back, Sansa wrapped her legs around him tightly so she could buck her hips hard and take him in as deeply as possible. It felt so good, better than anything she had ever felt in her life, and Sansa writhed and cried out with abandon along with Sandor as their bodies set into a heated rhythm. His hands roamed over every inch of her as he loved her, the feeling of his warm skin sliding against her own setting her own passion ablaze.
Sandor's whole body trembled and he quickened his thrusts, driving himself into her faster and faster, all the while her husband panted into her ear that he loved her, that he wanted her to sing for him as he loved her, and sing for him she did. Waves of passion radiated from deep within her and swelled until Sansa thought she couldn't take it anymore, and she cried out his name again and again as she shook with her release, arching her back and calling his name, her breathing coming fast and voice hoarse from her love cries.
"Sansa… Sansa, my love, my wife, oh gods..." Sandor cried out her name desperately, his release coming upon him so fiercely he shouted and then buried his face in the crook of her neck and whispered that he loved her, his manhood pulsing his seed inside her.
Cradling him against her breast, Sansa softly murmured his name and stroked his hair after Sandor collapsed on top of her, the wetness of his tears showering her body. "I'll not leave you again," Sandor whispered against her skin. "Never. I swear it on every one of the gods that neither you nor I will pay so high a price again."