As the last chapter was very political you deserve some gratuitous smut again; enjoy.
The Bath
A few days later, as the sun painted the sky in hues of gold and pink, Sansa found herself wandering the corridors of Winterfell with a lightness in her step and a smile that seemed to have taken permanent residence on her lips. The weight that had burdened her for so long had lifted, replaced by a newfound sense of happiness and contentment.
After a day filled with activities and conversations, Sansa welcomed the idea of a peaceful bath to unwind and relax. She entered her chambers, the warm glow of candlelight casting a soft ambiance. Her maids were already bustling about, preparing the large wooden bathtub near the hearth.
"Your grace, your bath is ready," one of the maids announced with a respectful curtsy.
"Thank you," Sansa replied with a gracious smile. She felt a sense of appreciation for the servants who tirelessly ensured her comfort.
As she approached the bathtub, the steam rising from the water was a comforting sight. The air was scented with herbs and oils, creating an atmosphere of tranquillity. She began to unfasten the intricate laces of her gown, feeling the weight of the day slowly lifting.
Her maids helped her out of her gown, carefully folding the fabric and setting it aside. Sansa stepped into the warm water with a sigh of relief. The sensation of the water enveloping her body was soothing, a gentle embrace that eased away the tensions of the day.
As the maids finished their tasks, Jeyne Poole, Sansa's loyal friend, stood at the door, her eyes filled with mirth. With a playful smirk, she shooed the maids away.
"Thank you, ladies. You may leave us now," Jeyne said with a mischievous glint in her eye.
The maids curtsied and exited the chamber, leaving Sansa in the bathing chamber. She turned to Jeyne, a questioning look on her face.
"Is there something you need, Jeyne?" Sansa inquired; her curiosity piqued.
Jeyne pretended to ponder for a moment, her finger tapping her chin playfully. "Hmm, I do believe you've forgotten something, my lady."
Sansa furrowed her brow, her mind racing through the events of the day. "Forgotten something? What could it be?"
With a theatrical sigh, Jeyne leaned in closer, her voice a whisper. "Well, you see, my lady, you've forgotten to relax."
A surprised laugh escaped Sansa's lips. "Relax? Is that all?"
Jeyne nodded with feigned seriousness. "Indeed, my lady. You've been so busy with wedding plans and council meetings that you've hardly had a moment to yourself."
Sansa's amusement grew, and she allowed herself a playful smile. "You have a point, Jeyne."
With a graceful gesture, Jeyne left the room, her voice teasing as she spoke. "Enjoy your bath, my lady. It's a rare chance for some well-deserved relaxation."
As the door closed behind Jeyne, Sansa couldn't help but appreciate her friend's sense of humour. She settled deeper into the warm water, feeling the soothing embrace of the bath once more. The day's responsibilities and worries seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of serenity and contentment.
While she soaked in the bath, Sansa reflected on how much her life had changed in recent times. The prospect of marrying Gwayne, the unity of the North, and the warmth of her friendships had brought a newfound sense of happiness. And in this peaceful interlude, she allowed herself to savour it fully.
With the soothing waters surrounding her, Sansa felt a sense of gratitude for the people who supported her, the moments of joy that brightened her days, and the love that had entered her life. She knew that there would be challenges ahead, but for now, she would bask in the simple pleasure of a quiet bath, a moment of respite in the midst of her bustling world.
Sansa heard a faint rustling, a sound that might have gone unnoticed in the stillness of the room. She assumed it was Jeyne, returning with some jest or playful remark. A small smile tugged at her lips; she appreciated her friend's efforts to keep her spirits high.
Feeling a soft touch on her shoulder, she started slightly, her heart skipping a beat. But before she could react, a warm hand cupped her face, the touch both familiar and unexpected. The suddenness of it made her heart race, and her eyes flew open.
And there he was, Gwayne, standing beside the bath, a playful glint in his eyes and a smile that held more affection than words could convey. It was him, not Jeyne, who had crept into the room, and Sansa's heart swelled with a delightful mixture of surprise and delight.
"Gwayne!" Sansa exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and happiness.
He chuckled softly, his fingers tenderly brushing a strand of damp hair from her face. "I didn't mean to startle you, my lady."
Sansa's heart fluttered at the endearment, and she reached up to hold his hand against her cheek. "You did startle me, but it's a pleasant surprise."
Gwayne's gaze held a warmth that seemed to seep into her very soul. "I couldn't resist seeing you, even if it meant surprising you."
Her lips curved into a genuine smile, her fingers trailing over his hand. "I'm glad you did."
In a movement that felt both swift and unhurried, Gwayne leaned closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. And then his lips met hers, a kiss that was both deep and tender, a testament to the depth of his affection and the emotions that bound them together.
Sansa's eyes closed instinctively; her senses consumed by the sensation of his lips on hers. It was a kiss that spoke of longing and tenderness, a silent promise of the feelings they shared. The warmth of the water surrounding her seemed to amplify the heat that pulsed between them, and for a timeless moment, the world outside the chamber faded away.
When they finally parted, Gwayne's forehead rested against hers, their breaths intermingling. Sansa could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, matching the rhythm of her own. It was as if their souls were dancing together, moving to a melody only they could hear.
Gwayne's voice was a soft murmur, carrying an undercurrent of emotion. "I missed you, Sansa."
"I missed you too," she replied, her voice a mere whisper, her fingers still intertwined with his.
Gwayne's lips brushed against her forehead in a chaste, lingering kiss before he drew back slightly, his eyes searching hers. "I wanted to surprise you, to steal a moment alone with you."
Sansa's heart swelled, the tenderness in his words sending a rush of warmth through her veins. "I'm glad you did."
His fingers traced a gentle path along her jawline, his touch leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake. "I can't bear to be away from you for too long."
She reached up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin. "You don't have to be."
As their lips parted, Sansa's gaze shifted, and she noticed the basket that Gwayne had brought with him. It was a delightful surprise, and she couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness.
Gwayne's own smile was warm as he reached into the basket, retrieving a large, natural sponge. He held it up for her to see, his eyes bright with a touch of playfulness. "I brought this all the way from Dorne. They say it's the finest sponge for a bath."
Sansa's curiosity piqued as she looked at the sponge, marvelling at its texture and size. She could almost feel the gentle caress of its fibres against her skin. "Dorne, you say? It's exquisite."
He nodded, his gaze locked onto hers. "Only the best for my lady."
Her heart fluttered at his words, his affectionate tone sending a rush of warmth through her. But there was more in the basket, and her anticipation grew as he reached in once again, producing a delicate soap that exuded a pleasant fragrance.
"And this," he continued, presenting the soap to her, "comes all the way from Qarth. It's scented with olive oil and lavender."
Sansa took the soap delicately in her hand, its scent mingling with the warm aroma of the bathwater. She closed her eyes briefly, inhaling deeply, and felt a sense of luxury wash over her. "Qarth... it must be wonderful."
Gwayne's voice was a gentle murmur, laced with a touch of fondness. "Just like you, my lady."
Sansa's smile deepened as she reached out to take the soap from him, her fingers brushing against his in the process. "It's wonderful, Gwayne. Thank you."
His smile matched hers, and his gaze held a mixture of pride and affection. "I'm glad you like it, Sansa."
As the moments passed, Sansa felt a growing sense of intimacy between them. It was as if the small details, the shared smiles and tender gestures, spoke more eloquently than words ever could. Gwayne's presence had a way of making her feel cherished, understood, and valued in a way that went beyond her role as a queen.
Then, his actions took a more practical turn as he gracefully removed his linen shirt. The sight of his bare chest caused a flutter in her stomach, a sensation she was becoming quite familiar with in his presence. His offer to assist her with the bath was a testament to his thoughtfulness and the deep level of comfort they had reached together.
With a playful twinkle in her eyes, she set the soap aside and stood from the bath, allowing the water to cascade off her skin. "Well then, Lord Massey, I accept your assistance."
He chuckled softly, his eyes dancing with mirth. "It would be my honour, my lady."
As he stepped closer, Sansa's breath caught at the proximity of their bodies. His hands were warm and gentle as they took the natural sponge, and the touch of it against her skin was surprisingly invigorating. She closed her eyes briefly, savouring the sensation as he carefully washed away the cares of the day.
The soap he used was as luxurious as he had described, its scent enveloping her in a comforting embrace. The act of him tending to her felt intimate and tender, a continuation of the unspoken language they shared. Their silence was punctuated only by the soft sounds of water and the occasional rustle of movement.
As Gwayne continued to tend to her, the atmosphere in the room shifted from playful to tenderly intimate. His touch was both thorough and gentle, the sponge and soap caressing her skin in a way that made her feel cherished. Each movement was a testament to his care and affection, and Sansa's heart swelled with gratitude for the man before her.
She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensations that enveloped her. The scent of the soap mingled with the warmth of the water, and Gwayne's soft kisses scattered across her skin like a trail of whispered promises. The feeling of his lips against her neck, his nibbles sending delicate shivers down her spine, was both delightful and tantalizing.
Her breath caught as his lips grazed a particularly sensitive spot, and a soft sigh escaped her. The air between them seemed to crackle with a mixture of desire and tenderness, and Sansa's fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, her touch gentle and affectionate.
His lips trailed from her neck to her shoulder, leaving a trail of soft kisses in their wake. Sansa's pulse quickened as the sensations intensified, the gentle touch of his lips mingling with the heat of the bathwater.
"I can't help but be in awe of the beauty before me," he murmured, his voice carrying a mixture of playfulness and sincere affection.
She leaned into his touch, her eyes opening to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes sent a rush of warmth through her veins, and she couldn't deny the yearning that mirrored her own.
"You have a way of making me feel loved," she confessed, her fingers lightly tracing a path along his jawline.
Gwayne's response was a tender smile, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's easy when you are, Sansa."
Their words hung in the air, charged with unspoken emotions. It was as if the truth of their feelings was suspended between them, waiting for the right moment to be fully acknowledged.
Gwayne's touch was both gentle and purposeful as he continued to cleanse her skin, his fingers moving with a practised grace. Each stroke of the sponge seemed to carry a depth of feeling that went beyond the physical act, a silent promise of his unwavering devotion.
And as he leaned in to capture her lips in a lingering kiss, Sansa could feel the weight of their shared emotions in the press of their mouths. The taste of him was both familiar and exhilarating, and as their lips parted, her eyes met his with a newfound intensity.
With each gentle stroke, Gwayne's hands moved in circular motions, exploring every inch of Sansa's body. The sponge glided across her collarbones, down her chest, and over the gentle curve of her breasts. He cupped each breast, his touch both loving and possessive, as his fingers squeezed gently, eliciting a soft moan from Sansa's lips.
Their gazes locked as Gwayne leaned closer, his lips hovering just above Sansa's. His warm breath brushed against her skin, sending shivers of anticipation through her body. Slowly, he closed the distance, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Their mouths melded together in a dance of desire, tongues intertwining, exploring, and igniting a fiery passion between them.
While their lips were engaged in their sensual dance, Gwayne's hands continued their loving exploration of Sansa's body. His fingers circled her hardened nipples, teasing and tugging them gently, causing a surge of pleasure to ripple through her. Sansa arched her back, offering herself more fully to his touch, aching for more.
The warm water sloshing around his arms. Gwayne's hands left her breasts, trailing lower along Sansa's abdomen, until they reached the apex of her thighs. With a gentle touch, he grazed her inner thighs, teasingly avoiding her most sensitive spot for now, building the anticipation even further.
Breaking the passionate kiss, Gwayne looked into Sansa's eyes, seeking her approval and confirmation. "Are you enjoying this, my love?" he whispered, his voice filled with genuine concern.
Sansa's breath hitched as she met his gaze, her desire evident in her eyes. She nodded softly; her voice laced with anticipation. "Yes, Gwayne! I want you. I want to feel your touch," she replied, her voice filled with longing.
With a gentle touch, Gwayne guided his fingers towards Sansa's centre. His fingertips traced the thick red curls that crowned her sex, feeling the warmth and dampness that had already begun to tease her folds, not just from the bath water.
Sansa's breath hitched as his fingers danced along her sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. She parted her thighs slightly, granting him silent permission to explore further.
Gwayne's touch grew bolder, his fingers teasingly gliding along the outer folds of her womanhood. He leaned in close, his voice filled with desire and a hint of urgency. "Tell me, Sansa. Do you want me to pleasure you? Do you want me to feel how wet and ready you are for me?" he whispered, his warm breath brushing against her ear.
Sansa's voice quivered with need as she responded, her words barely a whisper. "Yes, Gwayne. Please... I ache for your touch. I want you to feel how much I desire you," she moaned, her body arching towards his hand.
Encouraged by her response, Gwayne's fingers delved deeper, parting her folds and caressing her most intimate flesh. He found her swollen pearl, already engorged with desire, and circled it with gentle precision. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure coursing through Sansa's body, building the intensity of her arousal.
With a wicked grin, he slipped two fingers inside her slick folds, feeling the velvety warmth that enveloped him. Sansa gasped at the delicious intrusion, her walls gripping his fingers tightly.
His thumb continued its relentless circling around her sensitive pearl, applying just the right amount of pressure to send waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Each stroke intensified Sansa's arousal, making her moan and writhe under his skilful touch.
Gwayne's voice was husky with desire as he whispered against Sansa's ear, his words dripping with anticipation. "You're so wet for me, my love. So ready and eager. I want to make you come undone, to feel you tremble in my arms."
Sansa's breath came in ragged gasps as she responded, her voice filled with need. "Yes, Gwayne... I want it. Please... make me feel good. I need you!" she pleaded, her body arching towards his hand.
Encouraged by her passionate plea, Gwayne increased the pace of his fingers, plunging them deeper inside her, hitting all the right spots. He curled them, searching for that elusive spot that would send Sansa spiralling into bliss.
As his fingers worked their magic, his thumb pressed firmer against her sensitive pearl, never relenting in its seductive circles. The combined stimulation sent Sansa into a whirlwind of pleasure, her body tensing with each passing moment.
Their shared desire filled the room as Sansa's moans grew louder, her voice a symphony of pleasure. "Oh, Gwayne... Yes! Just like that," she cried out, her words a plea for more.
Gwayne, driven by his own arousal and desire to please Sansa, increased his pace, his fingers moving in a tantalizing rhythm. He was relentless in his pursuit of her release, his movements becoming more urgent and purposeful.
Sansa's body trembled on the edge, teetering on the brink of an incredible climax. Her voice was breathless, her plea desperate. "Don't stop, Gwayne. I'm so close... Please, make me come," she begged, her body writhing with need.
As Gwayne's fingers curled and meticulously explored Sansa's velvety depths, he focused on that elusive spot that would push her over the edge into pure ecstasy. With each stroke, he applied just the right amount of pressure, his fingertips dancing across her sensitive walls.
Sansa's body tensed, her breath hitching as she felt the mounting pleasure intensify. Every nerve in her body seemed to be on fire, her senses consumed by the overwhelming sensations building within her.
Gwayne's skilled fingers found that magical spot, that hidden treasure that would unlock Sansa's ultimate pleasure. He pressed against it with precision, his touch sending shockwaves of bliss coursing through her.
The sensation was incredible, a jolt of pleasure that raced through Sansa's body like wildfire. She gasped and moaned, her voice a symphony of desire. Her hips instinctively rocked in rhythm with Gwayne's fingers, seeking more of that intoxicating pleasure.
As Gwayne continued to stroke that sweet spot, Sansa's pleasure intensified, spiralling higher and higher. Her body quivered with anticipation, her core pulsating with need. She was on the precipice, teetering between bliss and release.
Suddenly, the dam broke. Sansa's climax crashed over her like a tidal wave, consuming her in a whirlwind of pleasure. Her body convulsed, waves of ecstasy rippling through every inch of her being. Her moans grew louder, a symphony of delight escaping from her lips.
Sansa's inner muscles clenched and spasmed around Gwayne's fingers, squeezing them as her climax surged through her. She lost herself in the throes of pleasure, her mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations that cascaded through her body.
Sansa's back arched, her body ardent and alive with the intensity of her orgasm. She cried out, her voice a symphony of pleasure, as wave after wave of euphoria washed over her. Her senses were heightened, every touch, every caress magnified to an exquisite degree.
Gwayne, enraptured by the sight before him, continued to stimulate Sansa, prolonging her climax, relishing in her pleasure. He revelled in the way her body quivered under his touch, the way her moans mingled with his name in desperate ecstasy.
As the aftershocks of her climax subsided, Sansa lay there, breathless and sated, her body a testament to the pleasure she had experienced. Gwayne withdrew his fingers, leaving her trembling and utterly spent, a satisfied smile on his face.
While Sansa lay there, her body still humming with the echoes of pleasure, Gwayne remained by her side, his touch a gentle anchor grounding her in the present. He caressed her flushed skin with tender fingertips, tracing invisible patterns along her curves, as if cherishing every inch of her.
With each soft kiss he pressed against her heated flesh, Gwayne whispered sweet words of adoration and affection. "You're so beautiful, Sansa," he murmured against her neck, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. "You're everything I've ever wanted."
Sansa's heart swelled with a mixture of joy and contentment. She turned her head to meet Gwayne's gaze, her eyes shimmering with lingering desire. "And you, Gwayne," she whispered, her voice filled with a newfound vulnerability. "You make me feel alive, like no one else ever has."
Gwayne's lips curled into a tender smile as he leaned in to capture her mouth in a gentle, lingering kiss. Their lips moved together in a dance of love and longing, their connection deepening with each passing moment.
Breaking the kiss, Gwayne brushed a strand of hair away from Sansa's face, his touch feather-light. "You're my everything, Sansa," he confessed, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to be the one who brings you pleasure, who makes you feel loved."
Sansa's eyes welled up with tears of happiness, her heart overflowing with emotions she couldn't quite put into words. She reached out to cup Gwayne's face, her touch gentle yet filled with a profound tenderness. "You already do, Gwayne," she whispered. "In ways I never thought possible."
As Sansa gazed into Gwayne's eyes, her desire burning bright, she felt a surge of boldness wash over her. She knew what she wanted, what she needed at that moment. With a soft yet determined voice, she spoke, her words laced with longing. "Gwayne, please... make love to me."
Gwayne's eyes burned with desire as he reached down, his hands deftly unfastening his leather breeches. The sound of buttons being released filled the air, each one bringing him closer to unveiling his throbbing manhood. With a sense of urgency, he pushed the breeches down, revealing his sculpted thighs and the tantalizing hint of what lay beneath.
As the leather fabric pooled around his ankles, Gwayne stepped out of them, his focus solely on the pleasure that awaited him. He peeled off his undergarments, revealing his erect member, proud and eager for attention. The sight of his aching manhood, glistening with anticipation, was enough to make Sansa's breath hitch and her pulse quicken.
Sansa's eyes widened with a mixture of desire and awe as she took in the sight before her. Her gaze locked onto Gwayne's impressive member, the veins pulsing with need, aching to be enveloped by her warmth. She could feel her own arousal intensifying, her body craving the intimate connection they were about to share.
Gwayne, fuelled by desire, moved behind Sansa, his aching manhood throbbing with anticipation. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, inviting him to explore her deeper. But just as he was about to enter her from behind, Sansa's body tensed, and panic flashed across her face.
Tears welled up in Sansa's eyes as she spoke, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "Gwayne, please... not from behind," she pleaded, her voice laced with anguish. "It reminds me too much of Ramsay, of the violence and pain I endured. I can't bear to be in this position again."
Gwayne's desire instantly transformed into concern as he registered the pain etched on Sansa's face. He immediately withdrew, understanding the weight of her words and the trauma she carried. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest, offering solace and comfort.
"I'm so sorry, Sansa," Gwayne whispered, his voice filled with empathy. "I would never want to cause you any harm or remind you of those painful memories. Please, let me hold you, let me be here for you."
Sansa buried her face in Gwayne's chest, finding solace in his embrace. She clung to him, seeking refuge from the haunting memories that threatened to consume her. Gwayne held her tight, his touch gentle yet firm, offering her the safety and security she desperately needed.
Gwayne's strong arms wrapped around Sansa's delicate waist as he carefully lifted her out of the warm, inviting bathtub. Droplets of water cascaded down her glistening skin, accentuating her curves and leaving a trail of moisture in their wake. Their eyes locked, filled with a shared hunger and anticipation for what was to come.
With a mischievous smile, Gwayne guided Sansa to a nearby stool, his hands lingering on her damp skin. He settled himself down, his muscular thighs providing a sturdy support. As Sansa straddled him, her wetness met the heat of his arousal, igniting a delicious friction between them.
Their bodies melded together, a perfect fit, as Gwayne's strong arms wrapped possessively around Sansa's waist, pulling her closer against his throbbing heat. Their lips crashed together in a passionate collision, tongues tangling and exploring with an insatiable hunger. Moans and gasps escaped their mouths, mingling in the heated air, as their tongues duelled for dominance.
Gwayne's hands roamed with purpose, tracing the curves of Sansa's back, kneading the firm flesh of her buttocks, and inching higher to caress the gentle swell of her breasts. His touch was both demanding and tender, igniting a wildfire of sensations within Sansa's body. She arched her back, pressing her aching nipples against his strong chest, craving more of his touch.
Sansa's voice, heavy with desire, broke through their fevered exchange. "Gwayne, I want you. I need to feel you inside me. Take me, claim me as yours."
With an unyielding determination, Gwayne's hands slipped between their bodies, finding the pulsating core of Sansa's desire. He teased her swollen pearl, circling and stroking it with skilful precision, coaxing a symphony of pleasure from deep within her. Sansa's body trembled with need, her breath ragged and desperate, as she rode the edge of ecstasy.
Gwayne, with all the gentleness in the world, positioned Sansa atop his lap, her wet folds eagerly awaiting the arrival of his thickness. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as their eyes locked, their connection deepening with every passing moment. Sansa's body trembled with a mix of excitement and nervousness, her heart racing in her chest.
With steady hands, Gwayne guided the tip of his throbbing manhood to Sansa's slick entrance, teasing her swollen lips with his engorged head. A soft moan escaped Sansa's lips as she felt the heat of his presence, her depths quivering with anticipation. Inch by inch, Gwayne eased himself inside her, the tightness of her walls embracing him with a delicious warmth.
Sansa gasped, feeling a delightful stretch as Gwayne filled her completely. The sensations overwhelmed her senses, and she instinctively tightened her grip on his shoulders. Their bodies moved as one, a slow, sensual dance, as Sansa began to ride him.
Gwayne's hands found a place on Sansa's hips, guiding her movements, ensuring she found her rhythm. With every upward thrust, Sansa's wetness clenched around Gwayne's manhood, gripping him tightly, her walls hungrily squeezing his length. Pleasure surged through their bodies, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each tantalizing stroke.
Their eyes never wavered, the intensity of their gaze mirroring the intensity of their connection. Sansa's breath hitched as Gwayne's fingers traced teasing circles on her inner thighs, heightening her arousal. Their desires intertwined, the world around them faded into oblivion, leaving only the intoxicating pleasure they shared.
"Oh, Gwayne," Sansa moaned, her voice a breathless whisper. "You feel so good inside me."
With feather-light strokes, Gwayne's fingertips traced intricate patterns along the soft skin of Sansa's body. His hands explored every curve and contour, mapping the landscape of her desire. He took his time, relishing in the sensations he evoked, as Sansa's breath hitched with each tender touch.
Gwayne's lips met Sansa's in a slow, languid dance of desire. Their mouths melded together, tongues exploring one another with a gentle rhythm. Their kisses were soft and sweet, conveying a depth of emotion that words could not capture. They savoured each other's taste, their lips lingering, reluctant to part.
As Gwayne's hands continued their journey, they traced the outline of Sansa's breasts, their fingertips trailing along the sensitive skin. With a tender touch, he cupped the weight of her bosom, his thumbs gently caressing her erect nipples. Sansa's body responded, her back arching in pleasure, as her breasts filled with warmth and sensitivity.
Gwayne's touch moved lower, his fingers gliding along the smooth expanse of Sansa's abdomen. He traced delicate circles, teasing and tantalizing, before venturing further south. His hand found its destination between her thighs, where anticipation and desire pooled.
Gwayne's thumb found Sansa's swollen clit, circling it with a gentle pressure. Sansa's breath hitched, her body trembling under his expert touch. With each stroke, he built a crescendo of pleasure, his fingers guiding her closer to the precipice of bliss.
As their passion swelled, Gwayne's thrusts grew more intense, his pace quickening ever so slightly. Sansa's moans filled the air, her voice a symphony of pleasure and need. They were lost in a world of sensation, their bodies consumed by the fires of desire.
With each stroke, the thick tip of Gwayne's manhood brushed against Sansa's sweet spot, eliciting waves of pleasure that rippled through her body. Her inner muscles clenched around him, pulsating with desire, urging him deeper into her core. Their bodies moved with an increasing urgency, their shared climax drawing near.
Gwayne's hands, soft and gentle, guided Sansa's hips, their touch both commanding and gentle. He urged her to move at her own pace, to savour every sensation and find the rhythm that would bring them both to the heights of ecstasy. Sansa's body responded to his guidance, her movements becoming fluid and instinctual.
With each rise and fall, Sansa impaled herself on Gwayne's pulsating manhood, feeling it stretch and fill her to the brim. Pleasure coursed through her veins, radiating from her core and igniting every nerve ending. She revelled in the feeling of being completely filled, her body craving more with each passionate thrust.
Sansa's hands roamed over Gwayne's chest, her fingers tracing the defined muscles, revelling in the power and strength that lay beneath the surface. She leaned forward, capturing Gwayne's lips in a searing kiss, their tongues dancing in passionate desire. Their moans mingled, a symphony of shared pleasure that filled the room.
Gwayne's voice, husky with need, broke through the haze of their passion. "Ride me, Sansa," he growled, his voice laced with desire. "Take what you want, my love. Show me how much you enjoy this."
Sansa's response was a throaty moan, her movements becoming more urgent, more powerful. She rose and fell, each time taking Gwayne's throbbing length deep within her, relishing the sensation of being impaled by his desire. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance of carnal pleasure and unbridled lust.
Gwayne's hands tightened on Sansa's hips, his grip possessive yet tender. He guided her, encouraging her to find the rhythm that would drive them both to the edge. "That's it, Sansa," he groaned, his voice thick with need. "Ride me harder. Take all of me. Take the pleasure you deserve."
Sansa's cries filled the room as she obeyed Gwayne's command, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed her. Her hips moved faster, her body aching for release. Sparks of bliss ignited within her, building with each passionate thrust.
Their eyes locked once again, a silent understanding passing between them. They were close, teetering on the precipice of bliss. Gwayne's voice, rough with desire, filled the air. "Come for me, Sansa," he urged, his voice a potent mix of dominance and tenderness. "Let go and let me feel your pleasure."
As Sansa rode Gwayne's throbbing manhood with increasing fervour, their bodies melded together in a symphony of desire. Each powerful thrust brought them closer to the edge of ecstasy, their pleasure building to an unbearable intensity.
Sansa's inner muscles clenched around Gwayne's manhood, gripping him tightly as her climax approached. The waves of pleasure surged through her body, radiating from her core and spreading like wildfire. Every nerve ending hummed with anticipation, and her moans grew louder, echoing in the room.
Gwayne, unable to resist any longer, unleashed his own release. With a guttural groan, he spilled his hot seed deep within Sansa, filling her with his essence. The pulsating contractions of her inner walls milked him, intensifying his pleasure and amplifying his orgasm.
Their bodies trembled in unison as their climaxes collided, merging into a sea of bliss. Their cries of pleasure mingled, filling the air as they reached the pinnacle of their passion. Time seemed to stand still as their bodies convulsed in the throes of bliss.
They clung to each other, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths ragged. The aftershocks of their climax reverberated through them, leaving them in a state of blissful exhaustion. They remained locked together, their connection deepened by the intensity of their shared release.
As their breathing gradually slowed, Sansa and Gwayne remained entwined, their bodies pressed against each other, warm and flushed from their passionate encounter. A sense of peace settled over them, their hearts still racing with the remnants of pleasure.
Sansa nuzzled her head against Gwayne's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. Gwayne's arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, as if he couldn't bear to let her go. They revelled in the closeness, the intimacy that radiated between them.
A soft giggle escaped Sansa's lips, a burst of pure joy that mirrored the happiness that blossomed within her. Gwayne joined in, his deep laughter filling the room, a beautiful symphony of shared delight. Their laughter mingled, a sweet melody that echoed in the air, a testament to the bond they had formed.
In the quiet moments that followed, their giggles subsided, replaced by tender kisses. Soft and lingering, their lips met in a dance of affection and gratitude. Each kiss conveyed their love, their connection, and the depth of their shared pleasure. They revelled in the taste of each other, savouring the lingering traces of their passion.
As their passionate connection gradually ebbed into a tranquil state of contentment, Gwayne's touch remained gentle and attentive. He held her close, their bodies still intertwined, and his breath against her skin was a soothing caress.
After a shared breathless moment, he looked into her eyes with an affectionate smile. "I hope you're feeling comfortable, my love."
Sansa's heart fluttered at the endearment, a warmth blooming within her chest. She nodded softly, her gaze holding his. "More than comfortable, Gwayne."
Gwayne's fingers, still tender and considerate, brushed a strand of damp hair from her forehead. "Would you allow me to wash your hair?" he asked, his voice carrying a mixture of warmth and genuine concern.
Sansa's heart swelled at the sweetness of his offer. The idea of him tending to her needs even in this seemingly simple act was a reflection of the profound care he held for her. She smiled, her fingers tracing a gentle path along his cheek.
"I would be honoured," she replied softly.
He dipped the large, natural sponge into the bathwater, letting the cool liquid seep into the porous surface before carefully lifting it out. Droplets of water fell back into the tub, creating a soothing symphony as they mingled with the gentle ripples of the bath.
With a focused yet gentle touch, Gwayne brought the sponge to Sansa's hair, allowing the water to flow down in a cascade that mirrored the flow of her fiery locks. The damp strands glistened in the flickering candlelight, giving her an ethereal glow that seemed almost otherworldly.
The sponge moved in slow, deliberate motions, each stroke a testament to Gwayne's attentive care. He massaged her scalp with a rhythm that was both soothing and intimate, his fingers working through her hair with a tenderness that belied the strength in his hands.
The room was filled with the soft sound of water and the occasional crackle of the candles, creating an ambiance that felt almost sacred. Gwayne's movements were deliberate and reverent, as if he was performing a ritual meant solely for her.
After what felt like an eternity of blissful sensation, Gwayne set the sponge aside and reached for a bar of soap that exuded a delicate scent of olive oil and lavender. He lathered his hands with the soap, the creamy suds forming in his palms before he gently applied them to her hair.
The soap was cool against her scalp, a contrast to the warmth that had enveloped her before. His fingers worked through the strands with a skilful grace, coaxing the soap into a gentle lather that spread through her hair like liquid silk.
Sansa's breath caught as Gwayne's touch seemed to linger, his fingers gliding through her hair in a manner that was both purposeful and tender. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, a presence that sent a shiver down her spine even as the water embraced her in its soothing embrace.
When he was satisfied with the lather, Gwayne reached for a jug of water that had been placed nearby. He poured the water over her hair, his movements careful to avoid letting any droplets fall onto her face. The warm water sluiced through her hair, carrying away the soap suds and leaving behind a sensation of renewed freshness.
As he rinsed her hair, his touch remained considerate and gentle, his fingers combing through the strands to ensure that every trace of soap was removed. The water that ran down her back was a cascade of cool relief, a contrast to the heat that had built within her during their shared moments of passion.
Finally, as the last traces of soap were washed away, Gwayne's hands moved to cup her cheeks. His gaze met hers, a tender expression in his eyes as he offered her a smile that held a mixture of affection and adoration.
With a soft smile, Sansa reached for a vial of rosemary oil that sat on a nearby table. The glass was cool to the touch as she held it in her hand, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns etched into the surface. She looked at Gwayne, her eyes warm with affection.
"Would you do me the honour, Gwayne?" she asked, her voice a gentle invitation. "I've always found rosemary oil to be a wonderful way to keep my hair soft and smooth."
Gwayne's expression softened as he took the vial from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers in a fleeting touch that sent a spark of warmth through her. "It would be my pleasure, Sansa," he replied, his voice a low, soothing cadence.
He uncorked the vial and carefully poured a small amount of the rosemary oil into his palm. The scent was both invigorating and calming, a fragrance that seemed to encapsulate the essence of the natural world. With a deliberate slowness, he rubbed his palms together, warming the oil between his hands.
Gwayne's touch was like a gentle caress as he began to apply the oil to her hair. His fingers moved in unhurried motions, each stroke a tender invitation for her to relax into his care. The oil seeped into her hair, leaving behind a subtle sheen that caught the candlelight and cast a soft halo around her.
Sansa's eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into his touch, her breath catching as the sensation of his fingers against her scalp sent a shiver down her spine. The rhythmic movements were soothing, a balm for her soul as they seemed to erase the worries that had weighed on her.
As he continued to massage the oil into her hair, Gwayne's movements became almost meditative, his focus solely on the task at hand. Sansa found herself surrendering to the experience, allowing herself to be carried away by the sensations that coursed through her.
After a while, Gwayne's hands stilled, and he gently lowered them from her hair. The touch of his fingers lingered for a heartbeat longer, as if reluctant to let go. He looked at her with a softness in his eyes that tugged at her heart.
"There you go, Sansa," he said, his voice a murmur that held a hint of reverence. "Your hair is now as radiant as your spirit."
She offered him a grateful smile, her heart fluttering at the tenderness in his words. "Thank you, Gwayne. Your care means the world to me."
With a delicate dance of warmth and tenderness, he helped Sansa out of the bath. The air in the room was thick with a sense of intimacy, a shared connection that seemed to pulse between them. His hands were gentle as he guided her steps, ensuring her safety as she stepped out of the bathtub.
The linen towels that had been prepared were large and plush, their fibres absorbing the water that clung to her skin with a comforting embrace. Sansa's eyes fluttered closed as she surrendered to the sensation, the sensation of the towels against her body a soothing caress that seemed to erase the tension that had settled in her muscles.
Gwayne's touch was reverent as he moved the towels against her skin, his fingers working with a deliberate slowness that allowed her to relish in the sensation. The way his hands moved over her body was intimate, a tangible reminder of the connection they shared.
As he dried her, his lips followed his touch, placing soft kisses against her skin. Each press of his lips sent ripples of warmth through her, igniting a fire of desire that seemed to pool low in her belly. Sansa's breath hitched as his kisses trailed a path along her collarbone, the sensation causing her heart to beat faster in her chest.
The towels absorbed the moisture from her skin, leaving behind a faint flush that seemed to glow against the candlelight. Gwayne's hands moved with a gentle confidence, his touch setting her skin alight with sensation. It was as if every touch held a promise, a silent declaration of the depth of his feelings for her.
She opened her eyes to meet his gaze, the intensity in his eyes mirrored by the heat that seemed to swirl between them. As he dried her hair, his fingers moved in deliberate strokes, his touch becoming an unspoken language of longing.
Gwayne's lips met the curve of her shoulder, a soft press of warmth that sent a shiver through her. Sansa's fingers curled into the towels as his kisses moved lower, tracing a path along her spine. The sensation was intoxicating, a dance of pleasure and anticipation that seemed to heighten her senses.
She turned to face him, her eyes meeting his with an unspoken invitation. Gwayne's gaze held a mixture of passion and reverence, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of their connection. His hands moved over her body with a tender grace, his touch kindling the fire of desire that had been simmering beneath the surface.
As he reached her waist, his fingers brushed against her skin with a feather-light touch, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Sansa's pulse quickened as his lips found hers, the kiss a slow burn of longing that seemed to transcend time and space. Their bodies pressed together, each touch a testament to the bond that was steadily deepening between them.
The towels fell away, forgotten, as their embrace grew more fervent. Gwayne's fingers traced the contours of her body, each touch igniting a spark of electricity that seemed to spread through her veins. Sansa's hands moved to cup his face, her fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss.
The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their private sanctuary. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of emotion that threatened to sweep them both away. Sansa clung to him, her heart racing as their bodies moved in a rhythm that was both familiar and new.
As they reluctantly untangled from each other's embrace, Gwayne's fingers lingered against Sansa's skin for a moment before they finally separated. Their breaths were still ragged, their eyes locked in a shared moment of intimacy that seemed to stretch beyond time.
"I should let you put on some clothes," Gwayne murmured with a soft smile, his gaze lingering on her as if he couldn't bear to look away.
Sansa's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, a mixture of shyness and desire painting her features. "Yes, I suppose that would be appropriate," she replied, her voice a little breathless.
As Gwayne headed toward the door to give her some privacy, Sansa reached for a robe hanging nearby, wrapping it around her body to cover herself. With a lingering look at the man who had captured her heart, she made her way to the wardrobe to find something suitable to wear.
However, as she entered her room, she was met with a surprising sight. Jeyne Poole stood there, a sly smile playing on her lips as she busied herself with the dresses laid out on the bed. The knowing glint in her eyes was unmistakable, and Sansa's blush deepened as she realized that Jeyne had clearly guessed what had transpired in the bath.
"Jeyne!" Sansa exclaimed, her voice a mixture of embarrassment and surprise.
Jeyne turned toward her, that mischievous smile still playing on her lips. "My lady, I was just preparing some dresses for you," she said innocently, although her eyes sparkled with amusement.
Sansa crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a mixture of annoyance and fondness for her childhood friend. "I can see that," she replied dryly, her embarrassment only growing.
Gwayne had followed her into the room, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he took in the scene. "It seems I've interrupted something," he remarked, his voice carrying a teasing undertone.
Jeyne's gaze shifted between them, and she couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, I don't think I'm the one who interrupted anything," she said with a wink.
Sansa felt her cheeks burn even hotter, and she shot a playful glare at Jeyne. "You have an uncanny talent for showing up at the most opportune moments," she quipped, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
Gwayne's laughter filled the room, warm and infectious. "I must agree with Lady Poole," he said with a grin. "But perhaps it's a sign that I should take her hint and leave you to your tasks."
Sansa rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a smile of her own. "Very well, then," she conceded, her embarrassment melting into amusement. "I suppose I should choose a dress for the morrow."
Jeyne's smile softened, and she held up a particularly lovely gown. "I think this one would suit you perfectly, my lady."
Sansa took the dress from Jeyne's hands, grateful for her friend's support and understanding. "Thank you, Jeyne," she said sincerely.
As Gwayne and Sansa headed toward the door, Jeyne's voice followed them. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, my lady," she called out with a mischievous tone.
Gwayne couldn't help but chuckle as they left the room. "Your friend certainly has a knack for keeping things interesting."
Sansa shook her head, a fond smile curving her lips. "That she does," she agreed. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."
As they walked down the corridor together, Sansa couldn't shake off the feeling of contentment that had settled in her chest. Despite the embarrassment and teasing, she was grateful for the support of her friends and the presence of the man who had captured her heart. And as they continued on their way, hand in hand, Sansa couldn't help but feel that the future held promise, love, and a world of endless possibilities.
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