Thread: GoT - A Wolf and a Mockingbird (Miss Tris x Shadows)

There was nothing like it in the world no greater pleasure than that given by Lord Baelish's song. Sansa had allowed for a temporary suspension of disbelief, for the sake of the moment, but the depth at which she was taking his words... She wanted to believe every sweet utterance Petyr offered. And so, she did . It was sudden and intense. In a moment Sansa became incapable of disbelief in a moment her heart was too far gone to recover. She loved Petyr Baelish. And regardless of how much she may or may not trust him otherwise, she knew that he loved her. She refused to acknowledge whatever concerns she should have outside of the bedroom, instead basking in the reverence Petyr offered as she continued to pleasure herself. Sansa felt the heat of Lord Baelish's breath, reveling at the labored bursts of air as they caressed her skin. Never could she have imagined something so real. It supplemented her fantasy greatly, bringing her arousal to a height she hadn't known was possible -- And then her mockingbird began to sing again. A whimperish moan escaped her throat. Petyr played along with her imagination, speaking as if he was currently filling her with his cock. Sansa watched him through half lidded eyes, her sight focused on the movements of his lips. He made claim that his desire for her was greater than it had been for anyone else the young woman's eyes shifted to hold Petyr's gaze, her lips parted as if to speak but only a ragged exhalation followed. Her expression contorted, almost appearing to be in pain, although it was evident it was a blissful agony she suffered. Petyr, she lustfully moaned his name. A hand came to rest on Lord Baelish's chest, Sansa steadying herself as the first jolting wave overtook her body. She trembled and gasped. No longer did she move her body, rather her fingers remained firmly buried inside of herself she could feel the spasms of her sex, the greedy tightening of her vaginal walls around her fingers. Her head tilted backwards and she arched her back, the press of her hand upon Petyr's chest increasing. She bit her lower lip as another wash of pleasure coursed through her body. Her hips bucked subtly against her hand in conjunction with a full body shutter. Gods, Petyr, she spoke with a strained voice. She rode the orgasm for what might have felt like an eternity to her mostly untouched partner. Afterwards she took several long moments to catch her breath and recover before removing herself from Petyr's lap. She sat next to the man, facing him. Sansa studied him in silence. She looked upon Petyr with nothing but adoration, her eyes alight with happiness and a warm smile upon her lips. She reached out to him, fingertips gently sweeping across the man's cheek, her hand following to cup the side of his face. She stared intently into his eyes, marveling at the beautiful mix of colors. She leaned towards him. Tenderly her lips touched to his, a satisfied and dream-like sigh escaping her in the moment before she deepened the kiss. Her lips parted as her alternate hand rediscovered and roamed over his smooth chest. Her tongue confidently sought to coax Petyr's attention, exploring the feel of him unabashedly. Her hand trailed over his shoulder, fingers curling and taking hold to pull him harder into her mouth. Her kiss remained soft, however Sansa was a hopeless romantic, after all, and so she kissed him as you would a fairytale prince. Her touch trailed in to his hair as her lips and tongue passionately worked against his own. The kiss lasted several minutes. When she withdrew, Sansa's eyes were again focused on Petyr's. You'll be staying in my chambers from now on, she spoke. Her attention diverted to her bedding, which she gathered in a hand and began to tug downwards. She had to shift her position somewhat to allow the material to be pulled out from beneath her, as did Petyr, but it was managed easily enough. She'd pull the blankets just far enough to slip her legs beneath as she turned her body alongside his. I will have your belongings brought up tomorrow. Sansa cuddled into him as he settled, listening to whatever response he might have. Spooning to his side, her head rested upon the front of his shoulder as her body melded against his. She thought to justify it - to explain that she was only sleeping on him to ensure that he didn't find relief in the night - but...she wasn't entirely certain how true the claim would be. It felt good, to be in Petyr's arms. She wanted to be there. Sansa wouldn't admit her love, as if doing so would give the man some advantage over her, but nor would she lie in an attempt to conceal her feelings. She tilted her face to look up at the man, curious if he already knew.