Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7343395.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Game_of_Thrones_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Petyr_Baelish/Sansa_Stark
  Character:
      Petyr_Baelish, Sansa_Stark
  Additional Tags:
      Season/Series_04, Slow_Burn
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-06-30 Updated: 2016-07-03 Chapters: 4/? Words: 9357
****** Moonlight in the Garden of the Vale ******
by decemberist91
Summary
     After Petyr kills his wife, he cannot stop thinking of the girl he is
     molding to be his queen, Sansa Stark. Thankfully one night she finds
     him alone in the gardens of the Eyrie, and her feelings are not so
     different from his.
Notes
     I started this in 2014 right around when season four ended. Now two
     years on, I'm updating it. It starts off somewhere after The Mountain
     and the Viper (4x8), but before season 5. I tend to stick to strictly
     show canon, as far as characterization, ages and appearances, with a
     bit of ASOIAF just from references and the like. A few or more
     headcanons thrown in for good measure.
     M rating through chapter 3. E rating applies to chapters 4+.
***** One *****
Petyr knew for some time. From the quick glances, the stolen moments in the
halls, even from the bright smile she revealed every time she passed him. He
could tell for quite some time that the dark gowns she wore to dinner, how her
long locks flowed past her shoulders were like flames cascading down her back
that reached right out and burned him.
He yearned for her every night. He would lie awake for hours, sometimes even
until day-break, just thinking of how the sunrise mirrored her beauty. In fact,
he thought, the colors of the fresh morning sky were not nearly as breathtaking
as she was.
The feelings that started in the pit of his stomach and rumbled through the
core of his being had been there for many moons. They settled in and built a
home within him. He tried to avoid her, to think of her as a daughter, a
friend, someone in need. Just a young frightened child who literally had no one
left. But kissing her on the steps awakened something new.
As her tongue, wet and docile slowly caressed his as he embraced her on the
stairs; the cold surrounding them melted away. There was no longer the icy,
freighting shock of the mountains, or restlessness pounding of his heart.
There was just her. Her mouth and hands, shaky and warm. Her skin, white and as
bright as the snow falling around them.
He could feel her pulling away, so he let her go. Seeing the fear in her eyes
fade was hope enough. She wasn't ready. She was so young, so harmless, so
scared. How could she not be? He was much older than her, much more dangerous,
much more experienced.
But he knew, after he saw her for her aunt, his wife’s funeral, that look of
confidence, dressed in all black that she too wanted him as he wanted her.
It was soon after when he would notice her hand move ever so slightly closer to
his as they talked in the courtyard, or over a glass of wine after dinner. She
would move it so close to his, he could feel the heat radiating off of her. It
made him twitch and sweat under his robes. He could only focus on the way her
chest rose and fell with every breath, how her eyes gleamed as she studied his
face.
But he felt the suspicious eyes of everyone watching, and knew such public
places were not the right way to go about private affairs. Part of him didn't
care, but he was not foolish enough to gamble everything he worked so hard for
to be washed away by a clumsy feeling.
He fought with himself on the ordeal, that this affair wouldn't be stupid, that
he felt deeply for her as she laughed and smiled and responded to every single
word that he said with confidence and an eager sense to please.
How he wished to please her.
To show her the gentle caress of what a true lover was. To be the first to
touch her anywhere and everywhere she desired. To watch her naked breasts rise
and fall under the moonlight and see her hands grasp at the linens, her legs
thrash around his head.
He always thought of himself as an insightful man. As the nights went on, and
as they spent more time alone he could tell she was getting anxious for him to
touch her. She was too shy and nervous to make the first move, but the way her
lips parted before she left him, inviting in him for a kiss was almost too much
to bare. Most nights he would inch closer, and watch her lips quiver with
anticipation.
It was on one night he found himself sitting in the gardens, looking up at the
full moon. It illuminated a rather bright light, leaving him with the notion he
could see and sense his surroundings rather clearly. Unlike every other night
he was lost in these thoughts of his Sansa, how in the past month she had grown
so much.
The image of her pale skin was comparable to the soft moonlight, and he could
almost smell the faint tracings of her perfume. He closed his eyes and saw her,
standing by a window, her long arms slowly moving up to her hair, releasing the
fiery locks and encompassing her soft, snowy skin.
He licked his lips in anticipation, as if he could feel the gentle hairs of her
arms and trace the freckles that framed her shoulders. His lips quivered as he
heard voice say his name, "Petyr" get louder and louder…
Suddenly a shock flew through him, his eyes jolting open as his head whipped
around to see his red-haired beauty behind him. She laughed and took a step
closer. He stood up startled, letting out a very light gasp.
"Lady Sansa I-"
"I'm sorry Petyr, I did not mean to frighten you." She picked up the hem of her
dark blue gown and took a few strides in front of him. Her form was fitting,
and with each step she took closer he became more aware of how aroused his
thoughts had made him.
"I was walking back to my chambers when I saw you sitting all alone in the
gardens," she twirled around to face him, a jovial expression playing across
her face made her blue yes shimmer in the moonlight. "I thought how you may
enjoy some company on such a lovely night."
"A lovely night indeed" he was quick to even out his breaths as he took a step
closer to her "but even more lovely now that you are present.” He cocked an
eyebrow and bowed his head.
Sansa smiled at his words and took a few paces around him, performing a bit of
dance for him. His eyes followed her every move. Taking in big whiffs of her
perfume as the wind blew her hair towards him.
She extended her arm towards him and smirked. "Dance with me."
"But there is no band, no music." He smiled at her happy-go-lucky tone. Her
cheeks turned a small hue of rose as he took another step closer to her.
"Well, just pretend." She twirled around again, and as her body moved towards
him he grabbed her hand and caught her in a spin. Their faces met, almost
touching and both their smiles faded as their lips landed near inches apart.
He could sense her body tense, her hands began to shake as she slowly inched
closer and closer. He couldn't resist it all any longer. He hitched a breath
and moved his lips to hers.
They were soft and sweet, she parted them just slightly allowing a quick sweep
of his tongue to taste hers. His hands tightened around her as she pressed her
body closer to his. Her body was warm, pleasant, and the way her frame slightly
shook under his was enough to make him scream. But he drew back and slowly
opened his eyes to find her smiling, almost laughing.
"My lady, what is so funny?" he whispered into her ear. He felt the quick panic
of embarrassment but it was soon washed away when he felt her lips pressed
against his again.
She moved her body swiftly, wrapping her arms around his neck, bringing him
closer and closer to her. Her breasts felt firm against his body as he lowered
his hands to her waist, he was startled to find her tongue begin to part his
lips and begin teasing him.
It was with slick, quick movements that their mouths danced as his hands traced
up and down her back until she curled his fingers in her hair, getting lost in
the never-ending mane of hers that he so adored.
He could feel himself getting more aroused, his hands began to sweat as her
body melted into his. She was warm and soft and he was sure she would notice
the hardening press of his erection against her thigh. She pulled away to leave
him nearly panting.
He was sure he had never seen a woman look so satisfied with her actions
before. She could tell he was nothing but clay in her hands, ready to be molded
into anything she wanted. Her eyes were lit with a certain power only a woman
knows, when a man is willing to do anything just to touch her.
His body twitched under his robes just watching her smile at him. She licked
her lips and kissed his neck, she always fancied his neck, and trailed light
kisses along his jawline. He closed his eyes and sighed, grasping at her hands
and holding them tightly.
She planted another firm kiss on his lips and then a few more along his face,
his ear lobe and began sucking at a spot right on the side of his neck. His
eyes closed tightly as she broke free from his grasp and her hands began to
move carelessly along his body.
In between kisses she let out faint callings of his name which caused him to
become even more exhilarated with arousal.
"Sansa," he replied his eyes slowly opening. She looked at him with a smile and
glided her hand down his chest, past his waist and right to the hardening bulge
in his pants. Her hand carefully glided over the spot a few times before he
quickly reached down and stopped her.
Shocked, her lips parted as she took a step back, her hand still cupping him as
his firm grip restricted her wrist from moving.
"I think it's rather too late to be out of our bed chambers". His voice was
husky as he slowly released her hand. Sansa flattened out her palm and rubbed
him one more time. She smiled again as he let out a small moan before leaning
up close to his ear and whispering,
"Then take me back to yours.”
***** Two *****
By the time he had opened the door for her and allowed her into his chambers a
very low and subtle tremble started to build up within her.
His room was just as she imagined; lavish but dark, what seemed liked a hundred
candles emitting their soft glow which caused a hundred more shadows to bounce
off every wall. His bed was large, much larger than any bed she had ever slept
in, and made up of deep reds and purples.
Her mind was in a haze, she had spent the past fortnight conjuring up the
courage to seek Petyr out and act on her stupid, immature emotions. She was
stupid. So, so stupid. Or, that is what she kept repeating in her mind as her
hands, clasped together, began to sweat, her lips starting to glisten as she
continued to lick them.
She was far from being experienced in the art of love, but she knew dry lips
were not enjoyed…nor were overly wet ones. She cursed herself and quickly wiped
her mouth on her sleeve. Oh, yes, very ladylike indeed.
Petyr slowly and quietly closed the door behind him before taking a few strides
to stand closer to Sansa. He could sense the tension her stance was giving off.
Not the same relaxed, forward girl he was just with in the garden only moments
ago.
"Would you like to have-" before Petyr could finish his sentence Sansa rushed
over to his bed and sat down. She straightened her dress as her eyes darted
across the floor. What was she doing? What was she thinking?
'Let's just flirt with the much older man who saved your life, multiple times,
and demand he take you back to his chambers' she thought. She was too busy
cursing herself to notice Petyr had walked up to her, his gaze heavy and his
breath steady.
She looked up at him and smiled as she watched his mouth twist into the side-
smirk she had learned to be very fond of.
"Is everything alright sweetling"? His voice was rough and hushed and she had
to pause to understand what he just said. He must think she was an idiot for
being so bold and then becoming such a fool.
"Lord Baelish," She stood up and couldn't help but notice she was just a bit
taller than him. She found it endearing, and in fact provided her with an extra
boost of confidence. "Petyr, I have thought about you a lot lately."
Her voice was shaky and uneven, but she found the courage to press on. She
prayed to the gods for a steady hand as she pressed them onto his belly and
slowly trailed up until her hand found itself tracing the mockingbird he had
clipped to his robe.
"Have you now?" He pressed his body into hers, and slowly moved his hands up
her arms, brushing her long locks off her shoulders and behind her back. He
loved her hair dearly, a trait she remembered wasn’t her favorite for a time as
it set it apart from her siblings.
But she learned to embrace it, and now enjoy it, although not as much as Petyr
was.
His fingers became entangled in her fiery mane, as he slowly moved his face
closer to hers. She couldn't help but quicken her breathing as the heat of his
body sent a shiver through her spine.
Just as they were about to kiss Petyr pulled away and grasped her shoulders
firmly, rubbing them with his hands.
"You are shaking. Are you cold?" He took a step back to grab a fur-lined cloak
which was conveniently laying on nearby chair.
"No." Her voice was quite as her gaze left his. "I'm nervous."
Petyr smiled at her tenderly as he swiftly walked back to her. He placed one
hand on her hip and the other to raise her chin up so their eyes met yet again.
"Me too." He nodded slightly before placing a soft kiss on her parted lips. He
tightened his hand on her hip and pulled her closer before deepening his kiss,
allowing his tongue to slowly move into her mouth.
She was shaking even more now. Back in the garden she felt like she was on top
of the world, but here and now she yet again felt like a scared, stupid child.
But she wasn't. Both she and Petyr knew that she had endured too much to no
longer be a child. She was a woman, although a very nervous, panicked woman, at
that moment.
Sansa opened her eyes to find Petyr trailing soft, small kisses down her neck
and upon reaching her collarbone he opened his eyes and smiled up at her.
Her hands rested on his chest as she took in heavy, uneven breaths.
"I was very surprised by your behavior in the gardens." He took a step back
slowly guided his hand along her cheek. His hands were large and warm, and the
cool silver from his rings felt good against the burning flesh of her flushed
face.
"I am sorry Petry, I don't know-"
He shook his head to stop her from speaking, moving his thumb over her lips and
slowly guided it into her mouth.
She instinctively sucked on his finger for a moment, causing him to close his
eyes and sigh.
"There are no need for apologies my darling, sweet Sansa". She could feel him
getting more aroused as he slowly removed his thumb from her mouth, allowing
her teeth to graze over it. "It was very unlike you, but I am not a man of many
complaints."
He kissed her again, this time on the cheek and she squirmed with excitement
from how good he was at teasing her. Sansa took a few steps back and let out a
deep sigh, she could feel her nerves getting loose as Petyr walked over to the
table and poured two glasses of wine, offering her one.
"No thank you. I think the extra glass at dinner made me act so foolishly." She
walked over to the window and stared up the moon.
"Did you mean what you said?" He took in a few small sips of wine before
placing both goblets back onto the table. Sansa nodded and turned back around
to face him.
"I did. I do want to…" she looked towards his bed and felt the rumble of nerves
swell up inside of her again. "I've wanted to for some time."
"To what?" He smiled and placed his glass on the table, then moving his hands
behind his back, taking a few slow strides towards her.
Sansa lowered her eyes but could not help but smile.
"To be with you. The thought has kept me up at night. Which I find quite
strange since I've never…" She paused to look at him. His eyes were flickering
under the reflection of the candles, his face looking as soft as ever.
"Even your husband?" He was now right behind her. She could feel the heat
radiating off his body as he slid a hand on her hip and pulled his closer.
Still facing the window she shook her head, thinking of poor Tyrion back in
King's Landing.
"Never." Her voice was in near whisper as she felt his hardening erection press
against her backside.
She let out a slight gasp as he began to run his hand up and down her body at a
steady pace, resting over the heat of her sex for a moment before gradually
trailing up her body and gently caressing her breasts.
His tongue flicked at the back of her ear as he took in a deep breath to gather
the scent of her hair. It was the smell of a light lavender, which caused his
eyes to flutter closed.
She quickly turned her body around to face him, causing his hands to grab on to
her waist. She placed her hold around his neck and kissed him.
"I hoped every night you'd kiss me, or come see me. You'd notice me and make a
move."
Petyr opened his eyes and smiled as she allowed his tongue to play with the tip
of hers. It was sensation she had never felt before, and she only knew it would
get better.
He was a master at making moves, and right now he cursed himself for not making
one sooner.
Her nerves were now washed away by pure desire as he began to slowly and
steadily remove her dress.
"But my lady, if only you knew how I wished to kiss you." He pecked at her
lips, pausing with her dress to draw her closer. "How I wanted to touch you,
all of you," He lowered his hands to her ass and grabbed it, causing her to let
out a slight chuckle. “All of the time”. His voice vibrated down her neck and
rode down to her toes, making them tingle.
He kept his firm grasp as her hands moved all over his body. She couldn't get
enough of his sleek form and soon found her self gently rubbing at his
hardness.
Petry let out a low moan as he kissed her again, this time more deeply, as
their tongues danced together.
"Tell me you want me." He bellowed out in a husky voice. "Tell me you want me
to do this to you." His eyes fluttered open as he gently grabbed her face,
forcing her to look at him.
"I want you Petyr." She kissed him quickly before removing the mockingbird and
placing it on the windowsill and unbuttoning the rest of his robe. "I want you
to do whatever you'd like with me."
Her eyes burned under the fierce light of the candles and she could swear she
saw actual fire in his as he began to quickly remove her gown.
Her breath quickened as she closed her eyes, thinking of the countless times
he'd done this, at the whore house or with Lysa. Although it was true she did
not fear the pain of her first time, she could not help but be racked with
nerves.
As her dress hit the ground, leaving her in her undergarments she could feel a
striking chill run through her body as Petyr began to unlace her top while
leaving a quick trail of kisses along her neck and collarbone. He paused to
look at her and smile.
She could feel his hands move quickly, unlacing her dress and revealing her
small breasts. His hand slowly skimmed over her chest, causing her
undergarments to slowly slide down her body.
She opened her eyes to find Petyr staring into her eyes as his hand slowly
helped the garmet fall to the ground. He moved his hands up and down her arms
as if to warm her, but it only sent a chill through her body.
"You're still shaking." His voice was so low she could hardly hear him as his
hand landed on her bare waist and brought her closer. She followed his gaze
down to her breast and watched as his mouth twisted into a smile, as he slowly
and steadily raised a hand to gently move a thick strand of her hair that
covered her left nipple.
She could sense his breath becoming unsteady, as if Lord Baelish, owner of
Westeros' finest whore houses, was nervous of being in the presence of an
undressed lady. The thought comforted her, as he gazed upon her breast with
such desire.
He moved his thumb over her hardened nipple and began to gently rub it, his
eyes darting back to meet her gaze. It caused a jolt to run through her, and
she hitched her breath as he quickly moved his right hand to begin playing with
the other.
Sansa smiled as Petyr looked at her with his wicked grin, they were both
enjoying themselves that all the years of fearing sex was washed away. She
figured it was silly to think of such a time as enjoyable, but her engagement
to Joffery, how could she not?
Petyr inched closer and kissed her again, allowing her tongue to do most of the
work. His hands glided down her body and landed on her hips as he pushed his
hands under her skirt and felt the warmth radiating from her.
She released a small moan as she felt his hands inch closer and closer to her.
But she was met with frustration when his hands began to move away, out of her
underdress and up to her shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her and brought
her into a tight, warm hug. She felt his erection right against her thigh and
her whole body tingled at the thought of it.
"What are you doing?" She said as the hug seemed to last an eternity.
"My love, my sweetling," He pulled away and smiled at her, placing a slight
kiss on her cheek. "You are a Stark, a high born, and you are by far the most
beautiful woman I have ever seen."
He let go of the hug to find Sansa's eyes welling up with tears.
"Petyr I don't understand-" She was hushed by his finger coming to her lips. He
kissed her cheek again and reached behind her to wrap a large blanket from his
bed around her. She looked stunning in the deep purple, surrounded by candles
and washed with moonlight.
"You deserve to be married before I...before we do anything of this sort." He
tightened his grip on her and pressed his forehead to hers. He let out a deep
sigh as Sansa drew in a deep breath, taking in the scents of mint and wine that
radiated from him.
"Do you not want me?" She said quietly, nearly on the brink of crying. She
composed herself and took a step back.
"No, no, my love. I just told you moments ago." He let his arms fall to his
sides as she went to sit on the bed. He waited a moment as he watched the rosy
color drain from her cheeks as her blue eyes met the ground. "I want you more
than anything…"
Her eyes darted up to meet his.
"And to a man who wants everything, you must understand your importance to me
is dire."
With a few swift steps he was next to her by his bed. He extended an arm and
placed his hand on her chin. She smiled at his touch and allowed herself to
breath steadily again as she slowly kneeled down in front of her.
"One day you will be queen, and I will be your king." His face inched towards
her, his face quickly moving closer to hers. "But if you want to be happy, if
you want me to be happy, we must be patient with our love."
She closed her eyes as he kissed her tenderly, letting their lips rest on each
others as she felt his lips curl into a smile.
"If you want to rule the world with me, you'll have to wait."
***** Three *****
Chapter Notes
     Thought this was gonna be finished, but what the heck I added
     multiple chapters because I apparently get off on the slow-burn. Here
     we go...
Days had passed since she had shared a private moment with Petyr. She began to
wonder what kept him away after such a close night with him in his bedchamber.
After supper each evening she would shoot him a glance, and each night he
looked back nodding at her as his mouth twisted into a smirk. He kept his
composure better than her. His conversations were heavily guarded with future
plans of battles, death, and she prayed marriage too.
She had already been married to a man twice her age, and now she found herself
completely smitten with another. The glances Petyr gave her each night caused a
warmth to well up inside her, the small moment of locked eyes kept her heart
burning, a shield in the cold months to come.
But with each passing moon her heart yearned for more. Her body ached for it.
She’d been a fool for Joffrey a few years ago, and now she hesitates to hold
the same feelings for a boy. But Petyr Baelish is a man, and a much different
man than any she had met prior. But after every meal she looks at him, sitting
proud at his table, goblet full of wine, his mockingbird broach shimmering
under candlelight, and she can feel her entire being buzz with affection.
She never believed in witchcraft, but the spell Petyr put her under made her
think she could be a believer.
As much as she enjoyed his raised eyebrow as she passed him in the halls, she
quickly became impatient, awaiting his arrival each and every night. Before she
knew it, she would fall asleep and wake up to a new day, alone.
He even spent a few weeks away.
“On a official business,” and a hushed “love” escaped his lips as he quickly
pecked her on the lips before getting in his carriage. She remembered wanting
to kiss him back, but the thrill of kissing Petyr in front of six guards would
have to hold her over.
She didn’t think it was possible to want someone so much, especially when they
were so far out of reach. She found it rather funny when she heard news of his
return, how she leapt from her chair. She quickly became embarrassed by her
hasty reaction, composed herself, and greeted him cooly. She nodded to herself
in reward for playing her affections down.
But on one particular night, as she licked her lips clean of the staining red
wine, she looked over at Petyr who was already staring at her. Her cheeks
flushed to his favorite rosy hue and she bowed her head. He quickly got up from
his table and began to walk towards her. Suddenly Sansa’s heart began to pound
against her chest.
She imagined a loud declaration of love, an announcement of the engagement she
longed for. But as Petyr approached, she grounded herself by the buzz of the
castle, of Sweetrobin smashing his potatoes onto his plate, the steal gazes of
the guards, and a plethora of people she never cared to know. Those fleeing
feelings were childish and unwelcome, she thought. She had to be strong.
“Lady Sansa.” Petyr said as he dipped his head and reached for her hand,
kissing it.
“Lord Baelish.” She nodded her head and couldn’t help but to smile. The small
contact sent a shock through her system as if cold water was poured over her
entire being.
“I’ve got word from a friend. New pieces are falling into place. Tell me, my
lady, do you have a moment to spare alone?” He didn’t release her hand and kept
steady eye contact as he spoke in a husky tone.
Her eyes lit up as she readily rose from her seat. She noticed the small smirk
on Petyr’s face, probably due to her unsubtle excitement. She said goodnight to
Sweetrobin and her distant family and took Petyr’s hand again while they exited
the dining hall and into the corridors of the castle.
For a few brief moments her heart fled. This is what it will be like every
night. Taking the hand of such a powerful man and returning to their
bedchambers to be alone every night. Just the two of them, well on their way to
rule the world.
They walked for some time in silence. Sansa’s smile grew as she kept thinking
about her hand on his. The slightest of touches made her entire being tingle,
as if she was getting drunk off of it.
The pair were just a few paces from the hallway that led to Sansa’s room when
Petyr stopped her and placed both of his hands on her shoulders.
“Sansa,” The s’s in her named rolled off his tongue, like he was almost hissing
out of pain. She wondered if he felt it too as she searched the grey and green
of his eyes.
Petyr blinked a few times before kissing her on the lips. Gently at first, but
he guided his hands up from her shoulders to the sides of her head and guided
her face closer to his.
She steadily moved her hands down his body, gripping fistfuls of robe that fell
from his torso. He always tasted so clean and smelled like the herb section at
a welcoming apothecary. Minty, crisp and a slight linger of something smoky,
but none the less sweet.
She went to press further into his mouth, sliding her tongue and tracing his
top lip only slightly. With that movement Petyr broke the kiss but kept his
eyes closed and pressed his forehead to hers.
“I brought you something back from my time away,” He didn’t move his head but
his eyes slowly opened and he reached down into his robe to retrieve a long
silver chain from his pocket.
Attached to the end was small, yet sharp arrowhead. He pulled back, creating a
gap between them to show off the necklace to her.
“Last time you gave me a necklace a man died.” She locked eyes with him to show
him that they sparkled at the thought of Joffery’s death.
“Aye, my sweet, but no man needs to die tonight.” He raised his eye brows as
she bowed her head. He spread the chain around the crown of her head and slowly
lowered it around her neck. His fingers glided over the chain and down her
front to rest just at her belly.
Sansa picked up the small dagger and poked at the edge. She let out a soft gasp
as it just barely pierced the pad of her thumb.
“Careful, love.” He called out rubbing her finger and taking it in his own
hand. He raised her chin with his other so he could stare directly at her.
“That may be a small blade, but a mighty one.”
“What’s it made of?” Her voiced was hushed as she watched him raise her thumb
to his mouth as he slowly licked the drop of blood that had formed there.
“One of the most interesting materials. old hardened volcanic pieces, around
longer than the old gods, some say” he slowly guided her hand back to her side
as he looked down and thumbed the flat face of the arrowhead. “It’s called
dragonglass.”
“I love it.” He shot a glance at her before leaning in to kiss her again. She
returned his actions with fervor and allowed for her arms to wrap around his
waist and pull him closer to her.
They continued to kiss as Petyr moved his hands to her hips and gripped her
there, moving his tongue into her mouth as he guided her closer to the door. He
lost footing and they clumsily stumbled up to her chamber door and she let out
a small laugh.
He couldn’t help but smile as he moved his mouth to her neck and began placing
kisses at her jawline and around her ear. Her eyes fluttered and short whimpers
left her lips as he trapped her against the wooden paneling of the door.
The hair that was growing on his face caused the soft white skin of her neck to
flush a bright red and she encouraged him for more by letting the whimpers turn
to a low moan.
He inhaled deeply and drew back at her noise and steadily began to rub her
shoulders again.
“What is it?” She thought she saw him shake his head as he looked down then
back at her.
“We need to speak. Alone.” He said sternly as his eyes shifted around the small
hallway. Sansa raised an eyebrow at why he thought kissing and touching was
fine to do here, but not speak. He looked down to the door knob and put his
hand on it.
As he begin to twist it, Sansa shot her hand down to cover his. Their eyes
stayed study on each other’s and she leaned in, kissing him again. This time
her tongue led her movements. She hummed as she felt his body tighten around
her. He tried to pull back, but she went after him and he let down his guard.
Their lips smacked together in a feverish rhythm and his hand resting on the
door knob shot to her thigh as he began to rub her up and down, getting closer
and closer to her center.
“I want you Petyr.” She whispered as he broke the kiss for a quick breath. He
allowed the the words to wash over him and said nothing. She began to fumble
for his hands but he didn’t grab back. Panic set in again. She was sure she was
acting brashly and tried to open the door, but her sweaty palms could not find
a good grip.
He took in a deep breath and lowered his face to the crook of her neck,
inhaling even deeper. The sudden closeness warmed her again, and she could feel
his entire body wanted her. As he pressed his body closer to hers she nodded to
reassure herself and placed her hand firmly on the door handle.
Her hand turned the knob and the barrier to her chambers fell open. She took a
step back to look at him once before turning around to enter her room. “Come
in.”
—
Petyr crossed his hands, hooking a thumb into his thin leather belt as he
crossed over the threshold of Sansa’s bedchamber.
It was much smaller than his room, with just a small table, a bed and one
window above it. On the opposite side was a small dresser and a mirror. Sansa
had decorated her small space with woven twigs and dried flowers. The moon beat
into the room, causing a hazy glow that mixed with the few lit candles that
resided on the night stand.
Sansa walked closer to the bed and took a seat, since it was the only proper
place to be seated in her room.
Peter looked apprehensive but he quickly rid it as he turned to shut the door
behind him.
As he turned back around, his lips parted to speak but Sansa shook her head and
began to laugh.
“You make me say such foolish things,” She began to play with the threads of
her gown and slowly reached up to the ends of her hair. She found a fond spot
and began twisting the strands into a slim braid. “Which is rather humorous
considering everything your trying to teach me.”
Peter moved his hands behind his back and took the two steps that were the
cause of the gap between them. She felt the warmth radiating off his body and
her eyes couldn’t help but wander below his belt. She saw a slight twitch of
movement when her eyes rested there, but they then shot up to see Petyr staring
down at her, standing perfectly still.
Sometime she thought of him as large house cat. There was one back at
Winterfell that made it’s way inside the grounds. It was a wild thing, always
carrying off a mouse or chipmunk in it’s mouth. Sansa remembered Arya running
after the golden-eyed cat but it was too quick and cunning for her baby sister.
Not to mention agile, as the cat would pounce from rooftop to rooftop just to
escape.
She wondered if Petyr would purr if she pet him right.
He cleared his throat as he kneeled down to her. How feet played flat on the
ground as he crouched to be eye-level with her.
“I told you not so long ago, that given the opportunity what do we do to those
who’ve hurt the ones we love?” He paused and let his tongue graze over his
lips. Her eyes glistened at the thought of where else that tongue could be.
“But I did not tell you about doing what we need to do for the ones we love.”
He reached down and grabbed her hand, kissing it before placing it back into
her lap.
Sansa let out a slow sigh before placing her hands on his shoulders, slowly
forcing him down to readjust and get on to his knees.
“Do you love me, Lord Baelish?” Her tone was slightly cold, as if she was
playing a different role, of a distant, sad girl who wasn’t thinking this man
constantly. For a time she had become that distant sad girl who felt nothing,
until the man kneeling in front of her released her from that hell. She felt
eternal gratitude and her cold gaze turned into a small smirk that started at
one corner of her mouth.
Petyr didn’t speak, but he parted his lips as she let go of his shoulders. She
stretched her palms out flat and placed them behind her on the bed. She shifted
her weight to her arms as her body slightly reclined in front of him. His eyes
darted all over her body as she slowly bent her knee and raised her leg,
bringing her foot to rest on his shoulder.
“Untie it.” She commanded and Petyr nodded. He slowly raised his hand and began
to work on the laces. When he was done he slowly removed the boot and placed it
on the floor next to him. She stretched her stockinged toes and went to lower
it. He caught her foot in his hand and began to rub at it.
It tickled her and they both smiled as he put her shoe-free foot in his lap.
She raised her other leg to repeat the same actions but as Petyr’s hand began
to work on the laces of her other boot, her free foot began to rub at his
growing erection.
As soon as her big toe made contact with the head of his hard cock, he closed
his eyes and swallowed hard. She rubbed the length of her foot against him
then, applying a more firm pressure and his eyes opened, this time they were
ablaze with passion.
He softly called out her name again but she took her boot and tapped him on the
shoulder. His hands raced up to untie the laces and that boot met the floor
with a dull thud.
As her one foot began to rub harder and harder at him, her other leg on his
shoulder remained. He tried to idle his hands but before she could speak they
shot up her gown and began pulling down her stockings. He began with the leg
resting on his shoulder, and as he removed the dainty white garment he traced a
feather-light trail of kiss down her leg.
His mouth on her bare flesh sent shivers down her spine, and the foot rubbing
his cock halted for a moment. He smiled at her and took this as a chance to
remove that stocking too. Both light pieces of fabric met her boots on the
floor, and he got up on his knees, just to add some height. His hands gripped
at her ankle as he inched his face closer to hers.
Their lips met briefly before he pulled away to look into her eyes as his hands
crept up her legs slowly and under her gowns. He sprawled his fingers when they
got to her knees and slowly edged their way up to her underclothes. They made
their way to the top of her thighs, and he marked the skin their with a brief
scratch.
She squirmed under him, and his touch caused her to close her eyes with
anticipation.
***** Four *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
He began to trace small circles on the tops of her thighs with his thumbs, and
pressed closer and closer to her. She reacted with a few stutters of short
breath before his fingers finally found the edge of the small curls that
encompassed her heat.
She became hypnotized by the gentle stroke of his hands approaching her and the
ever hefty heaving of her chest. She tried to take shallower breathes, but that
only proved to get harder as his hands drew nearer.
When the tips of his fingers met her clit, her eyes snapped shut and she let
out a quite hiss. Instantly he withdrew his hands back to her thighs and leaned
in to rest a kiss on her forehead.
She opened her eyes and saw the burning behind his pupils. He stared down at
her lips as his hands rubbed up and down her thighs. She sat up and placed her
hands on his shoulders and wondered how he kept his breath so even in a time
like this.
Her heart was racing in her chest, and she was sure everyone in the castle
could hear it as it thudded in her own ears. If she spoke, would she have to
shout? She felt Petyr shift his hands down her legs and she felt a bit of
energy drain from her.
She shook her head in protest of the removal of his hands, but when he reached
the bottom of her gowns, his hands gripped at the layers of material and began
to bring them up over her legs.
The cold night air attacked her skin, but it felt good against the immense heat
Petyr’s body was emitting around her.
His dark gaze followed the hem of her skirts up past her ankle, over her shin,
her knee, and finally above her thigh, exposing her total bottom half to him.
He paused for a second and he opened his mouth in wonder. He licked his lips
then shot a glance at placing both of his hands on her face and drawing her in
for a kiss.
He drew his body up to hers on the bed and sat next to her, the cold air
rushing at the hottest parts of her as he frantically placed kisses over her
neck, face and finally made it back to her mouth. Arousal rang through him as
his hands fell to her arms and rubbed them again.
She returned his kisses with thick strokes of her tongue against his. She
wrapped her arms around his neck before her hands began to fumble at the
buttons on his top robe. She made sure they were all done before working on his
undershirt, unlacing the strings at the top, and drawing it open.
She felt like she was going to combust right there when he raised his head and
placed his pointer and middle fingers in his mouth and sucked on them for a
moment, then moved his hand south, using his wet fingers to touch her clit
again.
It sent a jolt of pleasure to her as her legs fell farther open for him. Petyr
moved his fingers in tandem to her breaths, first slow and steady, then faster
and faster. He pressed his fingers harder into her, pointing pressure on the
small numb which was now glistening from his salvia and from her own wetness.
Petyr let out a low moan as he felt her body twitch under his touch. She
gripped onto his shoulders as she moved her mouth away from his shoulder. She
went to say his name but just a tiny gasp of air left her lips.
He pressed on, moving his fingers more frantically around and around in small
circles until she closed her eyes and a searing sensation of pure bliss pooled
over her. She felt a scratchy moan escape from the back of her throat as she
shuddered around him. Her legs pressed together, drawing his hand even closer
to her.
He started to slow his motions down as the dizzying feeling began to leave her
body. The burst of pure pleasure faded slowly and she opened her eyes to see
Petyr staring directly at her, the sweetest of smiles turning up the corner of
his mouth.
He hitched an eyebrow as her breathing became a bit more regular, her cheeks
were flushed red and he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“Your first, sweetling?” He drew back his fingers but allowed for his hand to
gently rub up, down, and all over her heat. She searched for the words but
couldn’t think of anything so she nodded instead.
He nodded with her and they both smiled. He pressed a few brief kisses to her
lips before he began to move his body to linger over hers.
“Lay down.” He commanded in a soft tone. She didn’t even hesitate, she just
took his orders and scooted up the bed. She rested her head against the pillow
and closed her eyes for a few brief moments. She felt his weight shift on top
of her and when she opened her eyes again, he was hovering right about her.
She had never seen a man’s eyes go so dark with desire before and she prayed to
the gods her eyes reflected the same.
Petyr began to spread soft kisses over her temples and hair line, trailing down
the slender bend of her nose, over her lips to her chin, all the way down to
her collarbone. Her hands pulled at his hips and brought them together,
feelings the rise in his pants hit her center rejuvenated her in a whole new
way.
She pleaded with her eyes and he moved his hand down her body again. He grazed
a thumb over her breast, still bound in her dress before making his way down to
her core again.
His fingers ran smoothly over the slick skin of her slit, and he slowly pushed
one finger into her.
She took in a sharp breath and he paused, but she nodded and smiled reassuring
him it wasn’t the pain, just the pleasure of a new feeling.
He hooked his finger and made small come-hither movements inside of her before
slowly inserting a second finger into her. He pushed slowly into her, then out
of her, hitching the top of his fingers to bend into her.
A slow and fuzzy sensation began to cover her completely as she felt her heart
begin to race again. Petyr began to move his body over her in a motion that
drew his hard erection into her thigh, but just near inches from where his
thumb began to circle her clit again.
She looked down at him and saw his gaze was locked on his own fingers steadily
pumping in and out of her. She drew in a sharp breathe and moved her hand down
to him, rubbing his length under his robes.
He let out a crisp yelp and it made her smile and then rub harder. She felt him
twitch and grow in her hand as his eyes closed and he moved his fingers further
up and in. She squirmed again underneath him as he let out a series of shaky
breaths.
He called her name into her ear as he pressed his face into the crook of her
neck. She reached down and unhitched his belt she fumbled for a few moments to
make her way through the multiple layers. But with enough concentration and
sure determination she drew up the strings of his trousers and began to quickly
unlace them. Her hand dove into his pants and grabbed him, starting at his
balls and sat at the base.
She slowly drew her hand up and when she reached the head she pushed her thumb
over his opening and felt a small amount of liquid drip out.
His tongue pressed hot, wet kisses into her neck and she repeated her motions,
slowly as his breath became more staggered. He then quickly pushed up off of
her and got on his knees, entrapping her body between his thighs. Her hands
reactively left his throbbing cock and he sighed. His fingers left her for a
moment and she instantly new just how he felt.
He reached down to grab at his loose trousers and bring them down his thighs.
His erection sprung out of the fabric and he grabbed it, moving up the shaft
with a closed hand. He locked eyes with Sansa, showing her how to properly
stroke him and she quickly pushed his hand away to take over. His head rolled
back and he nearly shouted as her movements began to get quicker and quicker.
She could see his thighs begin to shake as she moved faster and faster. His
fingers entered her again and moved at the same rhythm as she did. He bent down
and began kissing her again, over the exposed flesh of her chest, up her neck,
right on her chin, and hastily on her lips. Soon she heard a low moan gather in
the back of Petyr’s throat as his face crinkled with a look she wasn’t familiar
with.
He said something quickly under his breath she couldn’t hear followed by an
elongated call of her name, and soon she could feel his entire body shake and
throb as a stream of liquid covered her hand. She slowed her motions until he
gathered himself and opened his eyes.
Her lips parted as she stared into his hazy glare, she never thought she could
make the very master of chaos blush. His chest heaved up and down as she
released her grip of him. He took his time to lick his lips before falling down
on top of her again, catching himself right above her face and placing a firm,
wet kiss on her swollen red lips.
He nipped at her bottom lip and drew it into his mouth, sucking at it. She
wanted to ask if he was alright, but she was smart enough to gather he was
better than that. When he pulled away she could’t help to notice how dark and
wet his lips were with their salvia and she thought of it as the sweetest wine
she had ever tasted.
She kissed him again to try and taste him but he stopped her by grabbing her
face firmly. He placed a finger at her lips and shook his head, looking as if
he was going to speak he just smiled and then slowly began to move his head
down her body.
Sansa froze as she stared up at her ceiling. She had heard of such intimate
gestures in passing, but as a high-born lady she never dreamed of them actually
ever happening. She knocked it off as more stupidity and being naive, because
when his face was level with her opening and she could feel his hot breath on
her, she thanked the gods such an act existed.
As Petyr began to place vigorous kisses on her thighs, his mouth inched closer
and closer to her. Finally he sucked in one of her lips into is mouth, then
released it. He mirrored this action with the other and Sansa found her hands
gripping at his scalp.
She shakily called out his name as his tongue began to move in clockwise
circles around her clit. After a few rounds he pressed his lips to it and
tongued it until she began to feel that familiar feeling come back. He drew his
hand up and spread her, the tiny nub tender and the color of the fire and
blood, he blew out a solid stream of cold air, followed by completely sucking
it into his mouth and rolling his tongue in waves. She began to move her body
to the push and pull of waves his mouth was causing and gripped her fingers
tighter through his short, graying hair.
Her head shot back onto the pillow and his tongue swirled and licked, then he
would take her in his mouth again. He repeated these motions until she was
nearly pushing him away. The sensation was more so than before and Sansa was
sure she was going to burst into a million little pieces. She mewled and
whimpered as his pace increased and suddenly when he brought up to fingers to
move her even further she yelled out a guttural moan and pushed his face closer
to her.
The rush of pure ecstasy caused her to raise her knees and all she could see
was white light. Her breathing was so ragged she felt like she had been running
for days but finally the sensation became less and she could feel her body
again, feel his body again, laying gently onto of her.
Most of his weight raised next to her, but his face was right next to hers on
the pillow when she opened her eyes again. She looked down at their half-
dressed mussed clothes and a smile crept across her face.
“We look quit the pair.” She looked down at him as he stared at their bare
skin. She felt his eyes rush over her and the foolishness of saying something
sweet caused her to blush. She tried to change the subject. "Weren’t you
meaning to tell me something?” Her voice was quite as he looked up and began to
trace her hairline, gently pushing strands of hair off her face. His gaze only
lasted a moment before looking away to clear his throat.
Just like that her lover had left the room and in walked the man who was always
scheming. Her body got a little colder as she felt his grow more tense.
“My love,” his voice was still the same at least as he stroked her hair. “My
news is of marriage.”
She giggled at the thought and placed a light kiss at his temple.
“That would make sense, given the circumstances.” Her heart fled at the
possibilities of marriage to the man in front of her, but as he lifted himself
up on his elbow and traced the outline of her lips with his finger, she should
have seen the storm coming.
“Not to me.” He paused to look her up and down. “I’ve arranged for you to marry
Ramsay Bolton.”
Sansa just stayed still as the panic set in, then like a massive wave right
before a storm she found herself drowning in it, gasping for air.
Chapter End Notes
     I finally changed that rating! Alright!
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