She blinked, had she passed out? She opened her eyes, to see the grinning face of Lord Stark looking down at her.
"Welcome back" he smirked, she gasped as she realised he was still inside her, thrusting away steadily; he reached out a hand and grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head upwards. Her clothes were in disarray, her bodice and top opened and leaving her chest and stomach bare, the nipples atop her small breasts standing erect and almost sore so sensitive were they.
"Now ready to get fucked properly?" he snarled, causing her body to spasm in renewed lust and slamming the remaining inches of his shaft into her.
"Ahhhhh!" was all she could say in response as Lord Stark pulled back swiftly before slamming forwards again to burry himself to the hilt inside her. Again and again he did this, thrusting into her with a great and terrible strength, battering her insides with his rampant manhood. And again and again Eyva climaxed on him as he thrust to her very depths, uncaring of the pain that this furious assault on her battered womanhood was causing. She could not speak, she could not ever scream, all that emerged from her mouth was a desperate panting, her world was reduced to the tube of her womanhood and the giant manhood that filled it with its strong, unstopping thrusts.
Lost in her own pleasure she barely registered the grunts and moans coming from Lord Stark, nor that his thrusts had become more ragged, more desperate. She felt him make a savage thrust to ram himself into her as deep as he could and then as he let out a strangled cry she felt him spend himself inside her. She could feel his cock twitch and pulse inside her as his seed flooded out, and her womanhood clamped down on his flesh savagely and pleasure that exceeded all that she had just experienced exploded through her. She let go a cry of primal need as she crested the wave of pleasure, taking her higher and higher than she had ever gone before, her whole body was filled with sensations that she had never thought possible, even the feelings as she had pleasured herself did not come close to this. And then, like all high tides, it began to recede, she groaned and fought it, trying desperately to hold onto the rapidly vanishing high.
She blinked and sighed as a deep and pleasant warmth spread outwards from her belly, replacing the former overwhelming pleasure with a delicious calmness and tiredness, a wanton, languid bliss to counterpoint the frenzy of before.
The Stark remained buried in her, he made a few more thrusts before slowly removing his pillar, it slid out of her, slick with their juices, she propped herself up on her elbows to watch. It plopped free and a large dollop of his seed followed, to splatter wetly on the stone of the stairs.
He took a step backwards and said "Clean me off with your mouth" and despite her shock at his words she scrambled down onto her knees in front of him and took his deflating manhood into her mouth. She moaned around his bulbous cock head, the mingled taste of her juices and his seed was like nectar; she greedily slurped and licked all over his manhood, cleaning it as best she could.
"Enough Eyva, and I really must find the Maester's Library" he said, tucking his cock away into his trousers and turning from her to descend the spiral stairs.
She watched him go through hooded eyes, her mind filled with images of her kneeling naked before Lord Stark, her belly swollen with child while she worshiped his huge manhood with her tongue and lips.
She did not know how long she stayed there, slumped on the hard, cold stone, legs akimbo and the Stark's copious seed leaking from her abused cunny. Eventually she stood up, if somewhat unsteadily and fixed her clothes before retracing her steps and resuming her work. A delicious heat pulsed through her body the whole day, making her feel contented and happy. Rana and Alerah had realised immediately what had happened, but she had shooed them away, promising to tell her story later on when they were all in bed and safe from eavesdroppers.
And so she had told her story to her friends, noticing not a little bit of jealousy on their faces as she recounted her tale of ravishment and pleasure at the hands, and manhood, of Lord Stark of Winterfell.
Later on that night she idly wondered if she might be able to find a way to skip the monthly Moon Tea that Caryss forced on them all.
And so she stood on the battlements watching as the Stark and Lannister party exited Atranta and rejoined the Kingsroad for its journey north. She still felt that fuzzy warmth from the day before filling her being and she smiled, remembering Lord Stark rutting inside of her, remembering the gush of his seed as it had spilled from him into the greedy sheath of her sex, and the heights of pleasure it had elicited from her.
"You look happy Eyva" she heard a gruff male voice say, she turned to see Darreth making his way towards her. He was one of the Men at Arms of House Vance, an older man of thirty and six years, grey beginning to appear at his temples. He was still lean and muscled though, his body tempered by years of service to House Vance.
He noticed what she was looking at and he said "Fought with Lord Stark at the Bloody Ford, the Field of Fallen Glory, the Slaughter of the Woods and the Red Moon….."
She turned to face him, plucking a stray strand of hair from her face and tucking it back under her headscarf, she wondered if Darreth would recount the usual nonsense men said about battles.
"Of all of them, terrible and all that they where, the Red Moon was the worst….." he whispered.
She turned her head to one side in questioning, not wanting to say anything as the man looked to be miles away, his eyes seeing things that only he could see.
"Alongside the Gods Eye we were, came across a small blocking force of the loyalists, we thought we would be waiting till dawn to assault them. Would have been bloody, they had a strong defence, anchored on the Gods Eye and a patch of scrub and immature forest. But no, Lord Stark insisted on a night attack, said that the full moon would provide enough light…. It went well for us at first, but soon it was chaos, riders and orders getting mixed up in the dark, our right flank collapsing, our knights arriving too late and out of position…..it was a slaughter…."
"I, I thought the rebels won the battle of the Red Moon?" she whispered, taking a step closer to Darreth.
"We did, but it was Lord Stark who won it for us, he lept into the Loyalists centre by himself, forcing us to follow him…..he….he reaped a harvest of blood and death that night lass. None could stand against him and that great valyrian sword of his; he cut a swath through the enemy. Lord, Knight, Sellsword, Small Folk - all fell before him, even those who tried to surrender, who threw down their arms or tried to flee. Lord Stark had no mercy in him that night, he killed and killed and killed, like the Stranger himself, come to stalk the earth."
Eyva shivered a little at Darreth's retelling of the story, another part of her decided then and there that she would not be taking this month's Moon Tea, a man, a warrior like that deserved sons to follow after him, even bastards. But then again did the child of Lords Stark's that she hoped was even now just the smallest spark of life in her womb have to grow up a bastard?
"Darreth, you, you have paid me some little attention and courtesy these last few months, may I ask your intentions?"