Chapter Twenty-five

Over the course of the next few days, Sansa and Jon didn't get to see each other all that much. Sansa had to prepare for her performance, and so she met with her fellow classmates that had made it in and the whole production team. She chose her song with Jon in mind: "Crazy For You" by Madonna.

Preparation and rehearsals were under way and though she was excited to have made it, Sansa still felt a tad overwhelmed by it all. She felt a bit underprepared compared to her other classmates who had already been taking classes and training for things such as this.

She had the urge to email Jaime and ask his advice, perhaps get a pep talk out of it too, but she had already promised herself that she wouldn't reply to him again, so she would not give in to that.

One night, while waiting for Jon to show up she watched Margaery prepare for a date. She and Jon were planning on watching a movie in her room which meant, basically, that they would probably be making out. Sansa had already showered for the second time that day in preparation.

"What are you thinking about, little dove?" Margaery asked.

"I'm thinking about Jon."

"No shit, really?"

Sansa smiled and then it fell as she frowned thoughtfully. "So, you know how you see those movies and read those books about that one person that drives the hero or heroine crazy with lust? Like they are so consumed with that person, and they just have to have them as soon as they see them?"

Margaery smirked. "I'm familiar with that, yes."

"So, I'm wondering—"

"How you can be that person for Jon?"

Sansa smiled again. "Yes."

"How do you know you're not?"

"Because he doesn't attack me as soon as he sees me. He can seem to keep his hands to himself—"

"So you want him to maul you and paw at you every chance he gets, even at inappropriate times?"

Sansa sighed. "Well, when you put it that way you make it sound silly."

Margaery came over and sat down beside her, smelling like perfume. "It's not that it's silly. It's just that Jon isn't really that kind of person. He's more—"

"Margaery, he told me about his ex. Val. He was like that with her. They did it in the library. I guess doing it in places where they might get caught was a turn on for her and Jon – quiet, unassuming Jon –obliged her."

"Are you saying you want to become an exhibitionist?"

"I'm saying that I want Jon to want me with that kind of passion."

"Are you afraid if he doesn't devour you the second he sees you that means he doesn't love you? Or want you? Because I assure you, little dove, that boy is completely and utterly yours."

Sansa frowned. "Maybe I just don't feel sexy enough."

"Maybe you're overthinking everything. I think you just need to relax and let things unfold naturally. This is the best part of any new relationship: the beginning. Everything is fresh and new and exciting. I'm pretty sure he already can't keep his hands off you, but you're missing it."

"He didn't make out with me during the movie."

Margaery made a face. "Does anyone do that anymore?"

"Margaery, last month you did it when I went to the movies with you and your boy time at the time."

Her friend grinned sheepishly. "Oh yeah…"

"I'll bet he and Val made out when they went to a movie. I bet they even did it."

"Stop comparing yourself to his ex. Nothing good ever comes of doing that. If things had been great with Val, he would be with her now. He's not. He's with you."

"Val moved away. That's why he's not with her."

"You don't know they wouldn't have imploded anyway," Margaery pointed out.

Sansa sighed and nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

"Naturally."

A knock came at the door and Sansa jumped up and ran to the door. She was so excited to see Jon – never had she felt this excited to see him.

She whipped the door open and he stood there with a bouquet of flowers in hand. He was grinning as he extended them to her. Sansa melted and buried her face in the sweet-smelling flowers. "They're so beautiful!" she said giddily.

"Not as beautiful as you," he said and then stepped inside the room and reached for her. When he saw Margaery watching them with a grin, he dropped his hands. He nodded to the other girl and Margaery just rolled her eyes.

"For heaven's sake, Jon, kiss the girl before she perishes," Margaery said and got up from Sansa's bed. "I'm off like a prom dress. Don't do anything I wouldn't do, little dove," she said with a smirk and after grabbing her purse, twirled out of the room.

"She does make quite an exit, doesn't she?" Sansa asked as she made her way across the room to find something to put her flowers in.

She let out a squeak when she felt Jon's arm snake around her waist and pull her against him. He nipped at her neck and she laughed in delight.

"I missed you," he said huskily in her ear.

She turned in his arms. "I missed you, too."

He smiled and swooped in to kiss her. It was passionate and heady and everything she wanted. He walked them backwards to her bed and the back of her knees hit the bed, she sat and then scooted back onto it. Jon climbed over her.

A ripple of excitement, arousal, and anticipation wound its way through her body. Sansa instinctively spread her legs to make room for Jon between them, and she pulled him down by his shirt to kiss him. As he settled himself against her and she once again felt the solidity of him, she thought that perhaps Margaery was right and she didn't have anything to worry about.

Jon hoped Sansa didn't mind that he'd basically attacked her the second they were alone. He'd gone more than a day before without seeing her, but it felt very different now that they were dating. Now he wanted to see her all the time and missed her the instant she wasn't in his sight. Any time spent not touching her was a waste.

His heart raced and his skin felt tight at the sight of her. His pants also felt a tad tighter these days…he wondered if half hard was going to be a permanent state of being. Needless to say, he was taking a lot longer in the shower these days.

When she hummed into their kiss, he kissed her harder. He loved the sounds she made. He loved how responsive she was to his touch, and how eager. He loved that she wanted to please him and explore him. With Val, it had been all about her teaching him. With Sansa, even though he was the more experienced of the two, it was about them exploring each other and finding out what the other liked.

Basically, he just loved and adored her.

He wondered how long it would take before she could say the same about him. He knew this was all still new to her – it was to him, too – but they were not new to each other. Only their status. Jon supposed this was why it hadn't taken a very strong push to realize how he'd truly felt about Sansa all this time. It made sense to him that he should feel this way. It made sense to him that it should be her. But, perhaps, Sansa just needed some more time to figure that out.

He was jerked out of his thoughts when she lightly raked her nails over his denim clad cock. He went from half-hard to rock hard in a second. She grinned up at him and reminded him of a siren. "You liked that."

"Yes," he rasped.

She rubbed him through his jeans and watched him with great interest. Before he came in his pants though, Jon took her hand away. She pouted and he grinned. He then nipped at her bottom lip and drew it into his mouth.

"I want more of you," he said.

"How much of me?"

"All of you," he said. "But for now…." He toyed with the hem of her top. "Can I see more of you, Sansa?"

She smirked. "Only if I can see more of you, Jon."

He lifted himself off her and went for the hem of his shirt. She laughed and he grinned down at her. Once his shirt was gone though, she stopped laughing. Then she started touching. She ran her fingertips over his abs, tracing each indent with precision. Jon's stomach clenched and his dick grew harder. He was practically panting by the time she reached his pecs. Instead of her nails this time, she flicked over his nipples the way he'd done to her with the pads of her fingers. Jon gripped her wrists.

"You're always stopping me," she scolded lightly.

"Sweetling, I can only take so much. I'm so hard I feel like I could pound nails."

She laughed.

Jon smiled and played with the hem of her shirt. "May I?"

She bit her lip and nodded, reddening slightly. Val and Ygritte hadn't been so shy about showing off their bodies, but Jon knew that not all women were like those two. He pushed her shirt up slowly, wanting to peruse every inch of her skin as it was revealed to him. Her flat stomach, her soft skin, and then her breasts encased in a lacy purple bra. His mouth went dry.

"You're staring," she said.

"You're beautiful," he said.

"Can you keep going? My shirt's all bunched up here on my chest…"

"Oh, sorry," Jon mumbled and helped her finish taking her shirt off.

"You look like you don't know what to do first," she said.

"I want to take your bra off," he blurted out. Now he blushed.

"Okay," she said softly.

He forced himself to look her in the face. "Are you sure?"

She smiled and nodded.

He reached forward and then paused with his hand in mid-air. "May I do it?" he asked.

She nodded and he undid the clasp in the front. Once it was open her breasts were right there. Right there in front of him and he Jon thought he might have forgotten to breathe. He curved one hand under her right breast and felt the weight of her in his palm. "God, Sansa, you're so fucking perfect," he breathed.

"Hardly."

"Shush. You're so bloody beautiful I can't…I can't believe you're real."

"I can relate to that feeling," she murmured.

He covered her breast with his hand and flicked her nipples the way she liked. Then he bent down and flicked his tongue against her nipple. She inhaled sharply. He then drew her nipple in his mouth and she tunneled her fingers in his hair and moaned.

He dropped kisses over the mound of her breast and made a path of them across her chest to the other breast, where he paid it the same attention as its twin. Sansa moaned, her hips beginning to move. Jon moved his leg in between her legs and she rubbed herself against him.

"God, I want you so much," Jon breathed.

"I want to feel your skin on mine," Sansa whispered.

Jon lay down against her, and gasped at the feel of her breasts against his chest, of her soft skin against his. He kissed her voraciously and rubbed himself against her. He wanted to strip the remaining clothes from her right then. Wanted to taste her first and then sink his hard cock inside her and make her his.

"Jon, I need more," she half-panted and half-moaned. "Please…"

He needed more too, but he was determined that he and Sansa would take their time. This taking it slow was new to him, too, but he liked it. He wanted it to build, to gain momentum. He knew that when it finally happened, when they finally made love, it would be a momentous occasion. He wanted to make it all perfect for Sansa because she deserved that. This, this making out and exploring one another would make it all the sweeter.

He trailed a line down the side of her face with his nose. He slid his hand over her belly and felt it quiver under her touch. He smiled smugly. He got to the top of her jeans and played with the snap. "Can I put my hand on you, Sansa?"

She hesitated for a few seconds and then nodded.

"Are you sure? You can say no."

"No, no, just…no one's ever…obviously."

"I like being your first," he said gently and kissed her again.

"It does seem rather that it is how it is how it should be, doesn't it?"

"Yes," he said with much conviction. "It is exactly how it should be."

"Get on with it then, Jon, please."

He chuckled and nuzzled her neck as he undid her jeans. "Bossy."

"You can be too, so don't even start."

"Never," he said as he slid his hand under her panties (cotton) and found her heat. He groaned. "Jesus fuck, Sansa."

"How exactly did you mean that…?" she whispered and shifted under his hand.

"It means I want you so much I can't see straight. I want to touch you everywhere at once, I want to put my mouth on you, I want to put my cock inside you and make you come again and again."

"Wow," she breathed. "I've never heard you talk like that."

"I've never been here with you before." He teased her folds with his fingers and she moaned and buried her face in his neck. "If I do something you don't like, tell me," he said. "Okay?"

"Okay," she said weakly.

Jon found her nub with ease and circled it with his finger. She tensed, quivered in his arms, and whimpered. "Yes?" he whispered.

"Yes."

He then slipped his middle finger inside her wet heat – God, she was so fucking wet for him – and she whimpered again.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Sure?

"Oh, God, Jon, please make me cum, I'm so close."

He smiled tenderly. "Sansa, kiss me, sweetling."

She lifted her head and pressed her mouth to his, kissing him with so much passion Jon could barely think. He rubbed her nub with the heel of his hand as he fingered her gently – he didn't want to scare her.

Her hips arched off the bed and she broke the kiss to cry out. Her mouth feel open and her neck arched. "Jon!"

"Yes, that's it, that's my girl," he rasped. "Come for me, beautiful girl. Come for me, Sansa."

Watching her come tested his own restraint. He was so close himself, but he wanted this to be about her. He wanted to make her come, to show her the pleasure to be had. She gripped his hair in her hands as she kissed him hard. She broke the kiss, leaving them both panting, and Jon withdrew his hand.

He then proceeded to lick her juices off his fingers. He looked down at her and found her gaping at him. "What?"

"Does that – do I – does it taste…good?"

He smiled. "Like ambrosia from the Gods, Sansa."

She didn't look convinced, but she shrugged it off quickly enough. "Can I…touch you now?" she asked.

"Not this time, love."

"Why not?"

"Because this was about you." He grinned teasingly. "Next time will be about me."

She smiled and ran her hand over his chest and then around his back. "Can we still make out?"

He groaned. "God, yes," he muttered and kissed her again.