A/N All characters belong to the great GRRM

Smut Alert, Smut alert. If you don't like reading fictious smut, you probably shouldn't read this fanfiction.

Sandor stood from the couch, gathering the empty tea mugs and went and continued to putter in the kitchen. He was dumbfounded by Sansa's explanation of her funds. He quickly decided he wouldn't obsess over it, he would be thankful that his fiancée would be provided for and she would be able to continue to have the lifestyle to which she was accustomed. He also gave himself an internal pep talk and decided to go forward with his plan. He went into his bedroom, took out the little box and returned to Sansa, who was still sitting on the couch.

The big man went down on one knee and cleared his throat; Sansa looked at him curiously.

"Sansa Stark," Sandor began very formally, "Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Sansa looked at him, wide eyed. He held a delicate diamond ring in his trembling hands.

"My mother's engagement ring, will you do me the honor of wearing it?" He whispered.

Sansa broke into a grin; she threw her arms around his neck, choking him. "Yes!" she squealed, kissing him all over his face.

Sandor pried her off of him, sat her back down and gently slid the ring on to her finger, it was a perfect fit.

Sandor gulped nervously and looked into Sansa's beautiful blue eyes "I promise I'll never let anyone hurt you." He rasped

Sansa just continued to beam at him. "I love you, Sandor Clegane." She whispered.

He hugged her close and whispered "I love you too." He picked her up off the couch and carried her into his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot.

Sandor gently lowered Sansa to his bed and sat on the bed next to her. He gazed at her, hungrily.

"I suppose with a proper proposal, we will have to wait until we are properly married?" He teased.

Sansa giggled, "Yes, we have to wait, but maybe there are other things we could do?" Sansa said coyly.

Sandor lay back on the bed, crossed his ankles and picked up a book, pretending to read, ignoring Sansa.

Sansa played along, lying down next to him. She yawned, she stretched, but Sandor continued to pretend read. She could see the beginnings of a smirk on his lips. She stood up, "Well, if you're going to read, then maybe I'll just get ready to go to sleep." She took off her shirt. She saw Sandor's eyes dart towards her, his eyebrow raised. She shimmied out of her pants, and took her time bending over and folding her clothing. She began to walk around Sandor's room, in a half hearted attempt at packing her items. She noticed Sandor could not take his eyes off of her. Sandor was the first to give up the charade, Sansa was taking an inordinate amount of time to fold some socks, Sandor grabbed her from behind and kissed her neck, grasping her pert breasts in his hands, "Who gives a fuck about your socks, come to bed." He laughed into her hair; pulling her scantily clad body back to the bed.

They lay next to each other, grinning and kissing, Sandor deepened the kisses, hungrily kissing her, sucking on her lip, tasting her, holding her close, rubbing her body with his large hands. Sandor abruptly stopped kissing Sansa, "I'm going to miss you, living far away." He looked kind of sad.

"It won't be long." Sansa began, caressing his face and smiling at him. "Shall we set a wedding date?"

"Tomorrow." Sandor said. "Fuck living somewhere else. I like you here, with me."

"Well, we need to get a marriage license and give Fr. Sam some time." Sansa explained.

"Fine, then let's get married next Saturday."

Sansa grinned, "There is soooo much we have to do! Get dresses, suits, I'll have to ask Gilly to be my matron of honor; her little boy can be the ring bearer. We'll invite the congregation. I have to hire a caterer. Where do you want to go for a honeymoon?"

"Fine, we'll get married in 2 weeks." Sandor conceded.

"A month!" Sansa giggled, I want it to be nice. We're only going to do this once!"

"You've got that part right," Sandor agreed, slipping his hand between her thighs, gently caressing her legs.

"Sandor Clegane! You're trying to distract me!" Sansa accused.

"Guilty" Sandor mumbled as he kissed his way down her abdomen, running his hands along her silky panties.

Sansa wanted skin to skin, so she helped Sandor remove his shirt and jeans. They lay next to each other on the bed, in their underclothes, belly to belly, thigh to thigh, and heart to heart. They kissed, feeling their chests rise in synch. They hugged each other close and kissed some more. Sansa felt Sandor's large hand, exploring between her legs, feeling the wet folds, the silky mysteries. He kissed her with renewed passion, as he found her clit. He rubbed near it, with the pad of his thumb. They were both pleased with the way her body responded to his touches. Her leg swung over his hip, seemingly on its own accord, giving him easier access to her delicious parts. He plunged two fingers into her sopping wet core. She moaned and drove her hips to him. Sansa clung to Sandor's shoulders, moaning into his ear. She savored the sweet ache, his touches were creating. "Can you do what you did to me last time?" She panted.

Sandor grinned at her, raising an eyebrow. "You liked that little Bird?"

She nodded vigorously, as Sandor busied his hands between her thighs. Sandor slowed, but pressed his hardness to her, so she could feel it on her belly. "Maybe I should wait until our wedding night." He teased, as his hands worked their way to Sansa's hips.

She looked at him in horror "Please, no. Don't make me wait." She all but begged.

Sandor laughed aloud, he flipped her back on to her back and buried his face between her thighs. He gave her a few well placed licks and flicks with his tongue and then rubbed her clit with his middle finger, while plunging his tongue into her core, he felt her come undone right on his face.

He lay on his back, next to her, watching her regain her composure. Sandor was still in his underclothes, but the bulge in the front was impossible to miss.

"Can you show me how to do that to you?" Sansa asked shyly. "Should I use my hand again?"

"No, your mouth." Sandor rasped.

"How?" Sansa asked

"Do you like ice cream?" Sandor asked

"Lemon popsicles are my favorite." Sansa told him, earnestly

"Well, just like you lick a Popsicle, but with no teeth." Sandor explained.

Sansa's eyes got wide; she nodded and began to pleasure him, just like he explained.

Sandor could tell that his woman really, truly did love lemon popsicles. He watched her furrow her brow in concentration. His body responded to her lips and tongue, his hips following her rhythm, moans and growls of pleasure escaped his lips. He closed his eyes and succored to the pure pleasure of the experience.

Sansa was really getting into it. At first she was intimidated by the sheer size of his cock. She gave it a few tentative licks, swirling her tongue over the tip. It was silky and soft skin, but rigid and hard, but malleable. She used her hand for a while, when she relaxed, she could put the head in her mouth and give it some good sucks. The moans of pleasure were all the encouragement she needed. She slacked her jaw and attempted to get the huge cock into the back of her throat. Sandor loved that, he roared with delight and pulled her hair. Then without warning, he shoved her shoulders back and came all over her chest.

"Not a bad way to spend our last night together." Sandor said, as he cleaned up his love. They settled next to each other and fell fast asleep.