Chapter 5
The next morning Ingrid knocked lightly. Usually Lady Sansa was awake and waiting for her to help her dress. This morning, however, she received no response from her Lady. After knocking again and waiting a while, Ingrid tried the door. She was puzzled when she found the door locked, but knew enough to mind her own and left. She'd be back to check on Lady Sansa in an hour or two.
Petyr awoke with a slight startle. He had momentarily forgotten his whereabouts. The warm and soft woman in his arms quickly reminded him. As did his quite hard member. He shifted his hips away from her gently so as not to frighten her by his body's reaction to being in such proximity to the one he loved. Petyr spent many a year without the company of a woman's touch. Though he loved women and throughly enjoyed all they had to offer, he found them rather distracting. A man well versed in the ways of pleasing a woman, Lord Baelish was an expert without having to show off his expertise at all times. When he was younger he had given his talents more freely, but as he aged he learned that withholding was often times more to his benefit than not.
He lay there, holding her close, and breathed in her scent. He smiled as her loose hairs tickled his nose. This was not something Lord Baelish was used to. Sharing a bed with someone he actually cared for, actually loved. And the larger novelty was that they had not even consummated their love. She hadn't told him she loved him yet, but he knew. He could see it in her eyes. The way she didn't stop him last night from kissing her. If he had been any other man, she would have struck him and told him not to touch her, not to kiss her. She hadn't struck him. He nuzzled her hair a bit but stopped when he felt her stir in his arms.
Sansa woke slowly. Having had a night without any dreams or nightmares left her fully rested and peaceful. That was a rarity. She knew that the reason for her uneventful sleep was the man holding her. She had to admit to herself that she did quite enjoy the peace his presence brought her. Never had she had someone be as gentle and caring as he was with her. All her experiences with men had been brutal and rough and unkind. Petyr had shown her nothing but tenderness and affection. She found herself hoping she'd never again have to spend a night without the comfort that his touch brought her. But how would that even work? They were not married. She was a widow now and could remarry again, and no one would question her for how quickly it was if she married soon. They all knew the man Ramsay was, and surely word of his abuse towards her had spread at this point. She was certain most everyone knew more about her intimate life than she cared them to. But what did it matter anyway? She was no longer suffering at his hand. He was currently laying on the ground somewhere outside the walls of Winterfell in freezing piles of dog waste. At this thought she smiled.
Petyr was a little surprised. She had woken up many minutes ago but had not yet turned away from his embrace. Could she be enjoying it as much as he was, he dared to hope. He decided he would wait until she stirred first, see where she would take matters. He found that when left alone, she was not quite as timid and would advance on him herself. These were high hopes he had, but he did not stop with his fantasies. "Good morning Petyr." He heard her whisper, her voice thick with sleep. At the sound of his name on her lips his member that had finally grown flaccid twitched. Gods, he cursed internally. He usually had much better control over himself in this way, but Sansa broke throgh all his walls, and made him react in ways out of his control.
"Good morning Sansa. How did you sleep?" He replied, keeping his bottom half a safe distance from her as she slightly leaned back further into his arms. She was testing his patience and strength in ways she was unaware.
"I slept better than I have since I first left Winterfell all those years ago." She replied. She found herself inching closer to him, seeking out the warmth and strength of his body, wanting him as close to her as possible. She frowned slightly as she realized he was keeping certain parts of him away from her. Then it dawned on her, it was morning. She remembered how Ramsay had always awoken aroused and ready to go on the rare nights he passed out in her chambers after using her. She chuckled to herself. Lord Baelish was aroused in her bed and trying to be modest about it. She toyed with the idea of embarrassing him over the matter. That could be quite fun.
"I am glad you had a peaceful night, my love. I, too, am feeling well rested. A rare thing for me I'm afraid." As he was talking Sansa turned herself in his arms to face him. He smiled at her as she smiled back at him. He noticed a devious look in her eyes and wondered what she was up to. "Sweet girl, what are you up to?" He asked, testing the waters.
"Girl?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Does a girl do this to you?" She asked as she lightly brushed her hand down his torso and lower still, lightly skimming over his very hard cock. His hips slightly bucked into her hand, unvoulentairlily. She moved her hand back to her side after she was done proving her point. Mischief in her eyes. Oh, so his little pawn wanted to play did she?
With a speed she was not expecting he flipped her onto her back, pinning her down by her wrists, and hovered over her. "No, a girl does not do this to me." He said, slightly grinding down on her to emphesize the word 'this'. "But a fiery little wolf does." Gods, he wanted to take her right there. He wanted to devour her mouth with his while his hand pulled up her underdress, revealing herself to him. He wanted to plunge into her warmth and make her to feel the way no other man had. But he must be patient with her. If she was not yet ready to receive him, taking her in that way would only push her further from him.
As Sansa quickly lost the upper hand in her little game, she was surprised at how much she enjoyed it. The playfulness in her was fading, but the desire grew. As he pressed himself on her center all she could think about was wanting to push back against him. But he only briefly teased her, removing himself from touching her, save for his hands restraining her wrists. She stared up into his eyes, wanting everything from him. She wanted him to give her his all and take all of her in return. Her need to have him as close to her as possible grew with every passing second. She knew Petyr was a man of great self control. She knew he would not be making any bold moves with her first. She needed to initiate.
Sansa slowly let her right heel slide up Petyr's calf, up his thigh, then she circled her leg around his backside as best she could and used it to pull him down to her. His eyes never leaving hers, he let her control where he went. As soon as he was laying on top of her, between her legs, his eyes fluttered closed. Only for a moment. But the feel of her beneath him was one that had never been matched. She slightly arched her hips into his, begging for friction. He granted her her wish, his restraint slowly leaving his body. She smiled up at him triumphantly as he made slow circles on top of her while she matched his moves with her own.
She let her left leg follow the same path her right one had, slowly traveling up his body until both of her legs were wrapped around his waist. Her shift had fallen around her hips and he could fell her warmth and wetness through his pants and her bottom underthings. His resolve was dissipating rapidly.
"What are you doing to me, Sansa?" He asked, hoping she'd understand his meaning.
"I do not have control right now, Petyr." She replied.
"Oh sweet girl, you have all the control. Tell me, my love, what do you want? Tell me and I will do everything in my power to give it to you." His voice growing rough as he tried not to burst into flames, all while still making slow and steady circles on her.
Her breath hitched as his actions grew more focused at one point on her body. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. No matter how much control he claimed she had, the reality was that she had none. She was putty in his hands. "You, Lord Baelish. I want you. I want all of you, and I want you to have all of me in return." At her words his mouth crashed down onto hers in a powerful and demanding kiss. Wrapping her legs as tightly around him as she could she kissed him with fervor. Their tongues clashed, rolling together in a dance as old as time. He released one of her wrists so his hand could travel at its pleasure across her body. She used her free hand to do her own exploring. She felt the small but strong muscles of his arm, the tightness of his chest, and as her hand found the back of his head she held his mouth to hers.
He sat back on his heels in between her legs, trying to catch his breath. She felt cold and sad at the loss of him on her. "Are you sure this is what you want my dear?" He asked, afraid she'd say no. She looked at him, her chest heaving as her breathing slowed. "I've never been more sure about anything else in my life Petyr. Please, don't make me ask again." Though the words themsleves mean a demand, the tone in which she delivered them spoke of another intention. It was all she had ever wanted. To be wanted and loved and cherished by a man who truly felt those things towards her. It was everything she had never had, and now she wanted Petyr to give it to her. He had been the only man in her life who was capable of giving her these things she so desired. For he was the only man she had ever known who had made her feel this way. Gave her desires she didn't understand as a maiden. And desires that were left unfulfilled in her most recent marriage.
Not answering her with words, he began to undo his tunic and raise it over his head. Her gasp stopped him briefly until he remembered the large scar from his hip up towards his neck. She had shown him her scars last night, but he'd forgotten he had one of his own to share. She sat up and traced the scar from top to bottom with her fingers. She looked up into his eyes and in them he found understanding. She leaned forward to kiss the scar. His stomach contracted at the feel of her lips on his bare flesh. She left small kisses from his collar bone, down his chest, and onto his stomach. He stopped her before she traveled any farther south. He did not think he could contain himself if her mouth was any closer to his cock.
He reached for the hem of her shift and she raised her arms as he slowly lifted it off of her. She blushed fiercely and tried to cover herself though she was still in her small clothes as his eyes looked over her body. "Do not be shy, my love. You are a beautiful woman. The most beautiful I have ever seen. Please Sansa, do not be ashamed. You and I are not so different in some aspects." he said, running his hand down his scar for emphasis. This seemed to help ease her mind and her hands fell from her body.
He undid his pants and britches and stood at the foot of the bed and let them fall to the ground, revealing his entire self to her. She looked at him, from head to knee, for the rest of his body was hidden behind the bed. She thought he was perfect. He did not look mean and hurtful like Ramsay did. No sadistic grin twisting his features. He was a man with whom she could give her full trust to. She began to untie her top and bottoms before he rejoined her on the bed. He watched, mesmorized, as she unwrapped the greatest gift anyone had ever bestowed upon him. The sunlight coming through the window cast light onto her body, highlighting all her scars. Rather than detract from her beauty, he found the marks added to it. They showed she had strength to survive.
Once her clothes were fully removed, Sansa laid back on the bed, opening herself to him. Waiting. He crawled on all fours across the bed to her, kissing from her hip, across her stomach, and to her breast. He suckled one, swirling his tongue around her hardened nipple as small gasps and moans escaped her lips. He turned his attentions to the other one, not wanting it to feel left out. She arched her aching body into his hard one as he worked his mouth over her breasts. He wanted to take his time on her, to kiss and lick and suck on ever inch of her body. But neither of them possessed the patience for that this day. The tension between them was too great and he found himself already pressed against her inner thigh waiting at the doors of her entrance, his tip wet with her want.
He kissed his way up her neck and to her mouth. She begged against his lips "Please Petyr, I need you. Now." She did not have to ask twice. He kissed her deeply as he sank into her until he could go no further. Her moan was exquisite. He had never heard a sound more beautiful than the one leaving her lips because of his own doing. He looked at her face, not yet having moved once he was fully inside her. He wanted her to look at him before he began. After a moment her eyes opened and her lips parted. Her hands were on his biceps and she had brought her feet up off the bed, bending her knees, allowing him more acces to her.
While staring into each other's eyes, Petyr slowly drew out of her. The feeling of loss from the separation was strong for the both of them. Once fully out of her he paused before pushing back inside the warmth of her. "You are so beautiful, my little wolf. I love you Sansa." he said then watched her eyes roll back into her head as he slowly trusted into her again, and again, and again. She was tight, and her insides grabbed onto him, pulling him deeper inside her with each thrust. He could not keep up his slow pace long. As her moans gradually got louder and her legs wound tighter and tighter around his middle, he lost himself in her. He let himself loose and kissed her as his pace quickened. He could feel her release coming on fast and hard. She shuddered underneath him and he muffled her loud scream with is mouth as she rode out the waves of her passion. He found that to be his undoing. Not long after her, he found his release. It was stronger than he could ever remember one feeling. Draining him mind, body, and soul. So caught up in the feel of her he did not remember to pull out of her before he emptied himself inside of her.
Sweaty and breathing heavily he laid on top of her, resting the bulk of his weight on his forearms. Her hands sought his face and she wiped the sweat from his brow. "I have never felt anything like that before." She murmured.
Rubbing the tip of his nose against hers he said "Is that so?" She smiled at him and reached up to give him a small kiss. He smiled, glad that though he may not of been the one to take her maiden hood, he had been the first to give her true pleasure. Slowly, he removed himself from inside her and she winced at the loss of him. He kissed her once more then rolled off of her and laid on his back, pulling her to rest on his chest.
"I could get used to waking up like this." Petyr mused aloud, stroking his hand up and down her arm. She did not answer. He worried that perhaps he had said too much, had crossed a line. But then he finally heard her speak.
"What do we do now?" She asked, afraid of the answer.
"What do you want, my love?" He asked, also afraid of the answer.
Both wanted the same thing but did not know how to ask. "I wish to always feel as safe and loved as I do at this moment." She replied quietly, idly running her finger along his scar. Petyr smiled largely. That he could give to her. But how to proceed. He didn't think a marriage proposal was quite what she was looking for at this moment, but maybe she was.
Sansa considered her words after she had spoken them. What exactly did she mean by them? It wasn't proper for a Lady to take a lover. Someone with her status needed to be married. But was that what she wanted from him? Yes, it was. It is what she has wanted from him since the Eyrie. But that wasn't the real problem. The real problem was if he only wanted her for his Games, or was it real? Could she trust him that completely?
"I worry..." She started "I worry that though you may have genuine feelings towards me, you would only use them to better your place in the Game. That I am only a means to an end." She finished.
He let her go slightly so he could prop himself up on his elbow and look at her face. She looked into his eyes with doubt and worry. It hurt him to see those there in her eyes. He had thought by now he had made it quite clear how he truly felt about her. "Sansa, you know that your name holds a lot of power and any man you marry will benefit from that power. But that does not mean that a man cannot love you genuinely also. They are not mutually exclusive. I have told you what I want, underneath the Godswood. But none of that compares to the way I feel for you. I would give it all up if it meant I could have you for the rest of my life. Together we could rule the world, with or without the Iron Throne. I have laid my heart out before you, all you have to do is to pick it up and keep it, or cast it away. What shall you do with it, now that it is all yours?"
Sansa thinks for a moment before she answers. Her mind screams at her to take him at his word. Her heart echoes the sentiment. Before she can stop herself she says "I shall keep it. I shall keep it close to my own and I shall cherish and protect it and return it's love. I love you, and that is what I want." She sealed her words with a kiss to his lips. His arms wrapped around her small frame as he brought her close to his body. After a while, though, he had to release her. The hour was growing later and soon her hand maiden will be here to help her dress. Petyr did not want to stir up gossip before they even had a chance to find their way together.
"I must leave you now, my love. Before anyone notices my presence here and rumors start." He says as he sits up and begins retrieving his garments. She nods her head in agreement.
"What do we do now?" She asks.
He looks at her as he ties up his pants. "I could officially court you. Ask your brother permission, with the intention to marry you." He offered.
Sansa worried her bottom lip and cast her eyes down to the rumpled bedcovers aS she considers his words. When her mind was made up she nodded her head up at him as he was finishing dressing. "Yes, that would be acceptable." She smiled at Petyr.
"My sweet love, you have made me the happiest man this day." Petyr smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her. He pulled away, much to his dismay. He would rather lay with her in her arms all day and night. But that would have to wait. Patience was one of his best qualities and he couldn't let it go by the wayside during one of the most critical times in his life when he truly needed it. "Let's straighten these pelts up a bit before your girl is here. We don't want to give her any ideas." He said as he fixed the bed so it appeared she had been alone in it all night. He walked around the room picking up her discarded clothes, handing her back her shift to put on. Sansa appreciated his actions, that he cared for her reputation. He set her things on the dressing chair neatly and turned to give her one last look before he departed.
"I shall see you soon, my love. But for now, I must go speak to the King in the North." And with a last glance at her he quietly left the room. He had wanted to spare her one last kiss, but knew that would be too dangerous. Her lips were intoxicating and he needed his wits about him before he had this talk with Jon. Petyr walked to his chambers to change. Surely it would send up warning signs if he was seen in yesterday's attire. His plans were going well, very well indeed. He was closer to his goals than he had ever been. He could hardly contain his elation. Finally, after a lifetime of being on bottom, Lord Petyr Baelish was headed to the top.
I rather enjoyed writing this chapter. Let me know what y'all think about it! Your reviews are my inspiration! Thank you to everyone who has followed and favorited this story! It makes me happy every time i get an email notification.