Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6455932.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin, Game_of_Thrones_(TV), A
      Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Petyr_Baelish/Sansa_Stark
  Character:
      Petyr_Baelish, Sansa_Stark
  Additional Tags:
      One_Shot, Smut, No_Plot/Plotless, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot,
      Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, No_Real_Dialogue
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-05 Words: 2066
****** When She is Away ******
by Bbanimal
Summary
     Just a Petyr/Sansa one-shot with some horizontal escapades, no real
     plot, no reason. Just because... I love it and I love that you love
     it.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Her laughter is airy and playful. Head tilting back, the long pale column of
her neck exposed, begging to be kissed - the brush of lips against her skin,
landing atop her pulse point. A smirk at the quickening tempo, Sansas eyelids
fluttering and closing, her laughter ending in a sigh at his touch.
Fingers wrap around the base of her neck, his thumb running along the smooth
skin of her collarbone, the others weaving themselves into coppery strands.
With all the airs of practiced seduction she leans her head back, shaking the
loose hairs away from her face. Slowly raising herself onto her elbows, her
hands, and sitting up with a quirked eyebrow; a flush on her cheeks, a smirking
mouth. Meeting his darkened stare her hands move forward, lightly taking hold
of the finely pressed collar of his shirt, Sansa leans into his frame, soft
white thighs straddling her partner, slowly sinking into his warmth. She wraps
her slender limbs around his neck, arching her back at the sensation of his
strong hands pressing into her back, his fingers drifting down, running along
her thighs.
The pressure of his fingers gripping at her sensitive flesh makes her gasp out
loud. A slight shudder felt at the upward movement of his fingers lightly
sliding between silk and skin, taking the material of her dress with them. The
cool air of the room hitting her naked thighs, his breath felt against her skin
as he slides his hands under the lace of her panties, another barrier removed.
Squeezing her perfect round ass, she squeals, her face falling in the crook of
his neck, kissing his skin, laughing; ‘Ahh - Petyr!’
The roll of her hips elicits a groan in response. Pressing her breasts against
his chest she lifts her head to place a light kiss against his lips, Petyrs
left hand quickly moving to rest at the base of her neck, his right wrapping
around her tiny waist, pressing her closer. Their kisses quickly grow fervid
and deep, her lips parting, her open mouth pressing against his, his tongue
sliding in to taste her sweetness. He can feel a smile on her lips, her body
reacting to his biting kiss; moving, pressing into his hips. Eager to feel his
growing hardness, chasing the heat, a pooling wetness between her legs.
Kissing until no breath remains between them, she pulls back, biting at his
lower lip with another roll of her hips. Met with a lustful and drawn-out groan
she smiles, biting at her own lower lip how he loves. Petyr raises his hand to
tuck her mussed hair behind an ear, drifting down to find purchase on a pert
breast.
‘Sweetling.’ He breathes.
She gives him a little smirk, her lips slightly parted. He stares at her pouty
lips, how the moisture clings to them; his eyes slowly drifting down, watching
for the rising and falling of her chest, her hardening nipples.
‘So beautiful.’ He murmurs, his thumb running itself over the hardened peak,
hands cupping her soft breasts.
Sansa tilts her head back, a soft gasp. Opening her eyes and looking up, she
stares at his green eyes through her lashes, listening to his slowing breath.
She moves forward to place a light kiss on his lips as she slides the thin
straps of her sundress from her shoulders, exposing the naked breasts
underneath.
‘Fuck, so lovely my sweet girl.’ He stares at the perfect skin, how his hand
runs over her flesh - growing taut at his touch; watching her dilating pupils,
her open mouth begging to be kissed. He complies, his kiss harsh and greedy
though she eagerly reciprocates, one hand massaging her breast, the other
pressing her closer. Rolling her hips she can feel him thick and hard and in
response, presses her hips - her sex deeper into him. Sansa pulls away
slightly, hands resting on his chest.
He stares at the girl becoming undone under his touch, words spilling out in a
growl; ‘What do you want sweetling.’ 
She runs her tongue along her lower lip; ‘To taste you, feel you.’ Her voice is
a rough whisper. Sansa leans in closer, lips grazing his ear, ‘- and to be
fucked.’
He chuckles, kissing her cheeks, eyelids, a chaste kiss to her lips. ‘Oh, all
those things in good time my love - and thoroughly.’ With that, he throws her
into the downy pillows of the bed, crawling up her soft and lithe frame, hands
stopping and resting next to her shoulders. Staring down with an appraising
eye, he notes her lustful and expectant gaze, storing this memory; her face so
open and full of want, so wanting of him. Slowly she raises her hands, resting
them against his jaw as she lifts herself to meet him. Their lips connecting as
she pulls him downwards. With his body finally parallel to her own, Sansa
presses and wraps one of her slender legs around his waist, allowing his groin
to press deeply into her center. Their bodies instinctively moving against the
other, moaning aloud at the machinations, their bodies burning and aching with
the need to be touched.
Pulling away she gasps, ‘Let me, please Petyr. I want to.’ Her lips almost
drawn into a pout.
Sansa’s hands slowly drift down, tugging at his loosened tie, the buttons of
his shirt. He watches her, the look on her face, a smile breaking as she
finally pulls away the fabric, pushing it off his shoulders, kissing his bare
skin, the top of his scar, along his jaw. Closing his eyes, he can feel her
hips rising, her hands undoing his belt, the sound of a zipper and hands
gripping at his hardened cock, freeing it.
Suppressing a small shudder, he moans aloud; ‘Fuck.’
Taking in the sight of him becoming undone at her touch, Sansa stares, her own
eyes black with lust. Her hands running along his thick length, massaging the
tip, smearing the pre-cum and watching his face as she pleasures him. He moves
to rest at his side and is gently pushed onto his back, his wisp of a lover
straddling him again and pulling off his trousers. He groans aloud at the
sensation her soft skin pressed against his naked flesh, feeling the wetness of
her sex against him, the smallest movement of their hips sliding his cock along
her folds causing them both to moan.
With a final tug, Sansa pulls at the last remnants of her dress, pressing her
hands into his chest as they take each other in. She can feel him grip tightly
at her hips and waist staring at her now-naked frame, appreciating the sight
laid before him. His breathing, though heavy is controlled.
‘God, so perfect.’ With a smile she leans down to kiss his lips, her mouth
hungry and met with his, her red hair spilling all around them.
Petyrs hands slide up her white thighs, a quick swat at her ass, her laughter
soft against his lips. Gripping at her waist he pulls her close once again,
Sansa lifting her head to kiss at his skin, her eyesight refusing to break his
as she slides down his body, hands gripping at his sides, fingers interweaving
with his. Her lips moving against his chest, abdomen, his hip. Stopping at his
groin she runs her pink tongue his length, kissing the tip - tasting the fluid
that has collected before taking him fully into her mouth.
He tilts his head back, feeling her tongue, her soft lips wrapped around his
cock. Petyr moving to watch her, the bobbing of her head, the arching of her
naked back, her hands cupping him. Listening to her soft moans, the vibrations
against his skin. In a moment of weakness he closes his eyes, involuntarily
jerking his hips. Running his hands through her hair, gripping at her scalp
pushing her downwards, a loud moan slipping from her mouth. He can feel her
saliva coating him, wetting her lips, her hands. Pulling away she runs her
tongue against the head, hands moving and pushing him further.
‘Ahh, shit. That feels so fuckin -’ Unable to continue with his praise Petyr
groans, feeling himself move towards completion. Suddenly he tugs at her frame,
Sansa gasping at the movements, their bodies sliding against each other. Petyr
only stopping at her pretty pink cunt resting against his mouth. He stops for a
moment, taking in the smell of her arousal, how wet she is, her pretty red
curls. Feeling her hips move in anticipation he stills her with his tongue,
tasting her.
Sansa cries aloud, hands gripping at the headboard, head dropping like a stone,
her mouth agape; ‘Oh god Petyr, please...’ He can feel her body quivering,
thighs clenching around his head. His hands gripping at her ass to steady her,
Sansas back arching.
‘So fucking wet for me. My little whore - you want this don’t you?’ His words
are rough and broken, spoken into her white thighs. 
His fingers sliding into her wetness, pumping in and out, circling her clit now
swollen with arousal. She tilts her head back, crying out; ‘Yes. Oh god, fuck
me. Please, please.’
He looks up, watching her face begging for release. Her whole body trembling
and growing heavy, himself hard, cock damp from her saliva, dripping with pre-
cum. With another swift movement he sits up, strong arms holding her tight,
pulling her downwards. Her hands moving to steady herself, his tip sliding
along her sex. Her hips rolling, pressing harder.
‘Shit.’
Her arms wrap tightly around his neck, their mouths meeting, tasting each
other. Finally taking himself in his hand Petyr gives a swift thrust, his thick
cock filling her, muscles clenching around him, her own body stilling,
welcoming of the familiar contact. A strange calm seems to settle over the two,
resting their heads against the others forehead. Slowly he begins massaging her
trembling thighs, his hands guiding the movement of her hips.
‘You still want to be fucked?’ His words coming out pleading and rushed, his
own body taut, demanding release, to fill her as she screams aloud.
Sansa whispering against his lips, ‘Yes. Hard. Fuck me Petyr.’
With that he gives a hard thrust, her breasts bouncing at the movement.
Tilting her head back, she cries out, the words ending in a moan. Petyr runs
his hand down her neck, massaging her breasts, kissing and biting at the damp
skin. Sansa continuing to move her hips, filling herself before slowly sliding
out. The smell of her sex pressing him forward, her wetness now running down
his thigh. Her whole body shaking, feeling himself begin to vibrate in
exhaustion, nearing completion.
‘I need you to come.’ He groans, the feeling of her body maddening.
‘My perfect pretty girl. I need you to come, I need to feel your sweet little
cunt clench around my cock.’ She gasps with a hard thrust, hands weaving
through his black and grey strands, scraping along his scalp, biting at his
lip.
‘Shit, so close aren’t you? Have me come inside you.’ He can feel her moaning
against his neck, her head resting against his shoulder as they continue to
move. Finally, he can feel her muscles contracting, her movements suddenly
sporadic though slowing, finally feeling her grip at him tightly, the sound of
her coming being pulled from the back of her throat.
At the sound of her orgasm, the sheer intensity of it, the sensation of her
trembling body becoming heavy he spills into her. His hips still moving against
her slowly. Both leaning in, lips parting and meeting, continuing the fervid
tempo. The two only part to breathe in raspy, drawn-out breaths. He stares into
her big blue eyes, watching a small, peaceful smile bloom on her moist and
swollen lips. 
Leaning in for another ardent kiss, Sansa speaks against his skin, whispering
through their kisses, the panting; ‘Can we lie in bed for a while? Please?’ She
pulls away slightly, their noses touching.
Her body is still, awaiting his response. Their eyes locking again, Petyr
tucking a strand of mussed hair behind her ear, kissing the warm skin along her
jawline, feeling her slowing pulse. 
'Of course sweetling, your aunt won’t be home for a few more hours.’ With that,
he pushes her downwards, Sansa squealing aloud in shock, Petyr chuckling before
silencing her with another kiss to her pink lips.
End Notes
     Thank you and hope it was a pleasurable read! I haven't written in
     quite some time and I needed to stretch me writing wings once again.
     And... if you are a dirty bird like moi; follow me on Tumblr @ b-
     baminal.
     ♡ as always - B
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