A Holiday by Decree

~~Day 12~~

"Sansa, I shouldn't have grabbed onto you like that -" Tyrion began to withdraw.

"Tyrion, please don't apologize again," Sansa kept her hands on his chest. In the water, she stood between his legs hanging off the stone. Their faces were perfectly level.

Quietly, she bit her lip, dropping her gaze and her hands to the tops of his thighs. They felt so warm. "You make me feel safe," she breathed.

Tyrion swallowed heavily, "I'm glad - I always want to. Please let me know if I ever don't."

"I promise, I will," she lifted her lashes back up to the open look of devotion on Tyrion's face. Sansa drew her lips to his.

Tyrion's hands had stayed at Sansa's mid-back. He gently moved to clutch her closer. Their kiss deepened, and Sansa gave herself over to it.

At first, they tenderly took turns embracing lips. The sour zing of the soup served at lunch lingered. She relaxed into Tyrion's hold. His hands came to her cheeks, then stroking her hair back to feather more kisses along her jawline. This time, uninterrupted, his lips reached her earlobe.

Sansa moaned softly at this new touch from him, and Tyrion sighed in kind. Within a heated moment, Her hands were traveling up his body while his were traveling down hers. Tyrion carefully kept his hands in front of Sansa, but while she noticed his politeness, her anxieties were otherwise far from her mind; her hands roamed him far more hungrily than she could have imagined.

She needed this kind, gentle man, who so obviously adored her – and she needed him badly.

:

Sansa sighed longingly, as she sat on the bed back in her room at the manor, as the sun was growing lower over the waves in the view from her veranda. Enjoying the recent memory paired with the sunbaked salt air coming through the open doors, Sansa's fingers ghosted her lips at the recollection of Tyrion's kisses.

After a lengthy session of mainly kissing that left them both breathless and more aroused than they ever knew just kissing could, Tyrion and Sansa had decided with difficulty to leave the lagoon. It seemed that they had both imagined previously that if things were to progress further, it would be under a roof at the very least…

Now, a whole voyage, bath, and change into soft lounge clothes later, Sansa questioned her decision to wait. Their voyage back had been filled with more kissing behind a gauzy veil tastefully drawn over the lounge area on their boat until the hot afternoon lulled them into an easy sleep while holding hands on the smooth, cool cushions.

When they awoke to the hull knocking the dock below the manor's cliffside, Sansa had not been anywhere near ready for their dreamlike afternoon to end.

With butterflies filling her belly, she had said what had come to mind:

"Once you've bathed, come to my room."

So now a knock came at Sansa's door, and again, those butterflies stirred.