A Holiday by Decree
~~Day 11~~
"Tyrion." Sansa's voice pulled his gaze back. The bright blue of her eyes rivaled that of the gleaming pool beside them.
"Hm?" he hummed.
"I want you," she said simply.
In a moment, Tyrion was pushing himself up on his hands, as if getting a better look at her might make her statement more comprehensible.
He felt his mouth work. He regretted, as the words came out a bit stupidly. "You… want me? As in –"
When he did not dare finish, she smiled softly up at him. "As in I want to be with you…physically. I am painfully aware this vacation won't last forever, and I don't want anything to stop us."
She had said it so matter of factly. Tyrion stopped and blinked. Despite the way her request seemed to be searing its way across his very soul, he both thanked and cursed the very significant brain inside his head. "Sansa, are you sure? We have both been drinking and smoking, and -"
I don't want to hurt you, the worried voice inside him said, though he stopped short of saying it.
Perhaps, Sansa was getting good at reading just the pleading look in his eyes, because she said, "Yes, it's true, but I thought it might help, because I want to ask: May I get to know you first? May I touch you, Tyrion?"
:
Tyrion's breath had deserted him for a moment at her question, but after a moment of convincing, and they each had another pull of the pipe, he laid back on the cushions, as Sansa climbed over beside him.
A happy man one moment, and glutton for punishment the next, he thought, jittery at the prospect of lying still while Sansa 'explored' him, as she had proposed. His initial concern about them touching each other in the open despite being clothed paled in comparison to other concerns he had; particularly below the beltline, there were particular issues that even being clothed would not prevent.
Still, as he told himself to relax, he knew that the servants had withdrawn and that this was the surest test - if he could not control himself, as Sansa touched him like this, then he surely was not good enough to be with her.
Indeed, this was mind over body, and, he, Tyrion Lannister would be damned if he did not prevail for her.
"Are you comfortable?" she asked, leaning over him, the sweet fragrance of her hair showering him. He longed to reach and caress her cheeks, flushed from the sun and wine, but he realized the importance of what she was asking.
She would control the pace between them.
"Yes, I'm fine, but Sansa, please stop anytime, if it becomes too much," he reminded, hating how skittish he sounded.
She nodded with a small but reassuring smile. "Thank you, I know," she said but paused.
Tyrion's heart warmed, as a bit of the shy girl slipped through her facade, and she asked, "But um, would you perhaps close your eyes?"
:::
Hi all, I just wanted to say a quick thank you to all enjoying the story! Your readership means a lot, and I love hearing from you if you have time to drop a review or add this to your favs/follows! :) Cheers, Origamikungfu.
