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

My apologies, Sansa. That was not my intent. The older male quickly corrected himself, even as he flubbed the truth about his intentions, as Petyr was very much trying to put forth the best front possible to appease his future Queen. Following her lead, Littlefinger listened to what she said and, as he suspected might be the case, his usual masquerade would not be enough to satisfy the young Stark womans concerns about his loyalty. The hints of concern on his features were fairly evident, as Petyr found himself walking a path hed not threaded in quite some time. A path formed with a person who could read him like few others had managed in many a year. It was somewhat ironic that, despite his current state of undress, this was the part that perhaps made him feel more exposed then anything else at that point in time. There was a noticeable tightening of his muscles and sharpening of his breath when her hand found itself upon his chest. His desire for the young Stark woman was easily read without any need for words on his part. It was clear that, if nothing else, his earlier declaration of doing whatever it took to appease her was far more then a charade, as the mans eyes followed her hand when it left him before diverting his attention to her bed. Perhaps too quickly, Littlefinger moved to Sansas bed upon receiving the wordless invitation, which showed that the man wasnt completely immune to thoughts and promises or at least assumptions of pleasures of the flesh. Taking a seat near the edge of the bed near the left side of it, Petyr would move himself inward toward the center a bit, until he was resting upon his back in the spot that would normally be reserved for its owners lover. Propping himself up onto his elbows, the older male watched, clear evidence of his arousal standing even more firmly between his legs, while evidently awaiting for the young Stark girl to join him. Much to his chagrin, however, that looked to not be the case, as Sansa instead spoke of Lord Baelish showing her his restraint even while she began to undress herself. Being told he would not be allowed to touch her was a disappointment, with Littlefingers mind almost immediately going to the notion of at least being able to relieve himself, much like he did after watching his employees do their work, at the end of the day. Unfortunately, Sansa was ready for that, as she added the instruction against being allowed to touch himself, which caused a clear look of conflicting uncertainty upon Petyrs face, even as he continued to watch her make the proper preparations to undress with undivided attention. With just about any other woman, thiese instructions wouldnt have been such a problem for Littlefinger, but Sansa was once again another matter. Petyr knew what she wanted to hear and was ready to sing for her like he would any other to achieve his goal, but actually having to go through with what she wanted was another matter. Watching as the beautiful , confident young woman undressed, Petyr doubted his own self control in such a matter, as her gown began to fall to reveal to his eyes the body he had not to subtly been desiring for such a long time. His lips parted in silent awe of her breasts as they came into view, while those attentive gray-green eyes eventually continued to follow the gown on its journey downward, until finally he had the young Stark girl standing before him in a manner that hed only dreamed of seeing her and her mother before her on so many occasions of the past. You look beautiful. Petyr spoke at a near whisper. It was perhaps the first thing hed said to her since arriving which flowed from his lips without any intent of satisfying her demands or playing to her games. A rare moment of pure genuineness from a man so used to carefully picking his words, as his heart raced and his arousal stood at full mast despite the apparent lack of attention it would end up receiving this night. His decision was firmly made within that moment of time. Collecting himself enough to best choose his words, the older male raised his gaze enough to return it back to Sansa, as he finally addressed her proposition. Your pleasures are my pleasures, Sansa. Petyr responded with words which held some truth to them, even if his truest pleasures at that time would have included something far more direct, then what she was proposing. Still, with his fingers starting to grip down into the sheets beneath him, the man further confirmed to comply with his ladys wishes, For what little my word may mean to you, I give you my promise that I will refrain from touching you or myself until granted that permission. And so his watch begins.