A/N Warning, if you find fictional smut offensive, please don't read this!
They lay in awkward silence for a few minutes until Sandor finally said, "You're just going to have to get comfortable"
Sansa snuggled right up next to him, not missing a beat, afraid he would change his mind. She rested her head in the crook of his arm and wrapped an arm over his chest. She got nice and cozy and settled down.
Sansa's restfulness did not have the same settling effect on Sandor. Her smell was intoxicating, her hair tickling his face, her warm breath on his neck, her arm over him, and her breasts flush with his torso, her naked thighs touching his pant leg, her naked feet touching his bare ankle.
He was rock hard and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't roll toward or away from her. He just lay still and breathed in her scent. Is this what it would be like every night when she left her fiancé, he dared to hope? That thought did not help the hardness in Sandor's pants. He listened as Sansa finally dozed off and her breathing became slower and deeper. She was rubbing his stomach and chest as she slept. He felt like a big, giant teddy bear. She was caressing him and she had no idea, her hand snaked up and under his shirt, her hands warm in his thick chest hair. She rolled toward him, still keeping her hand on his muscular stomach. She moaned a little and snuggled closer, if that was even possible. He gave up and rolled toward her, readjusting, as to not poke her. Her arm went around to his back, they were hugging, all cuddled up. He could feel her bare back under his hand as her shirt rode up. It was divine torture. Sandor closed his eyes and he fell asleep, the happiest he had been in as long as he could remember.
He woke up to sun streaming through the window. The storm had passed. The power was still out, but it had the makings for a beautiful day. The sunlight reflected in Sansa's auburn hair. They were still tangled; Sandor realized Sansa's naked leg was between his legs. He had to get out of bed to relieve himself. He extracted himself without waking the beautiful woman next to him. He stoked the stove, which had gone out during the night. Soon, he could get some coffee going. He poured some water from a jug into a big pot and put it on the stove to boil. Sandor went into the bathroom, bringing another jug of water with him. He washed his face, brushed his teeth, but he still was uncomfortable. He peeked out and saw Sansa was still fast asleep, smiling in her sleep. She was so beautiful. How could Sandor dare to hope and dream that she might possibly want to be involved with him? He was proud of his willpower, not ravishing a stunning young woman, mostly naked in his bed. He closed and locked the bathroom door. He stood and couldn't help himself as he thought of Sansa's hands rubbing his body. She had no idea the effect she had on him. The thought helped him solve his "problem"; it didn't take him long at all to find his relief as he fucked his hand. It had been 2 years since he had been with a woman. Sobriety had killed the fun of one night stands. Sandor had chosen the unintentional chastity that accompanied his sobriety. Normally, he didn't miss the false intimacies, but now knowing there was the potential for an actual mutual, caring relationship, the ache for want of touch was almost crippling. He came quickly and he felt a little better. He cleaned up and left the bathroom to make some breakfast. Sansa was still asleep, but rolling around, he could tell she would wake up soon. The coffee was boiling; he heated a pan with some butter and warmed up some banana bread. He grabbed some grapes and brought Sansa breakfast in bed.
