Their current situation wasn’t ideal, but upon reflection, Sansa found she didn’t mind at all.
Robert took a large share of the profits and strong-armed her father into going out to lunch, or a drink, or away for a ‘business trip’ (truly an excuse to travel and get drunk in warmer climes - her father going only to make sure Robert didn’t injure himself) leaving his younger brother Stannis, and Sansa, behind to take up the reins of the company.
In truth, she was glad of it. Not only because Robert usually slowed progress made when working, but because when left alone, Sansa was free to breeze through her work and observe Stannis without being watched herself.
Stannis was the opposite of his brother. The man worked, rarely wasted words on idle chatter and was, quite frankly, brilliant. He had a keen eye for spotting mistakes, whether it was grammar or someone trying to swindle them through the small print. It was largely due to Stannis that they hadn’t lost the company when Robert had an ‘accident’ a few years ago. The investigation into whether it had truly been an accident had thoroughly distracted her father enough for Sansa to step up beside Stannis and take over for a while. It had been quite nice, she thought. Even if Robert was in the hospital.
Stannis Baratheon had a strong sense of determination and focus that she would be hard-pressed to find anywhere else. The often intense look on his face made her react in ways she could never explain aloud and she found neither Stannis’ age, nor slightly receding black hair was an obstacle to her growing interest. Hardworking. Honest. Witty. Straight-backed and tall, he was one of the few men who could still look down at her in heels. He was impossible to ignore with the way he dealt out tasks and demanded the best from their employees with a scowl that made her belly tighten. Sansa and Stannis, being the seconds to his brother and her father, were equal in position and pay, therefore his orders were never truly directed at her. Though sometimes she wished they were. He was just so…so…
Sansa didn't know what came over her. One moment she was sitting across from him, her papers in a neat pile to her right, and the next she was getting up, her skirt swinging about her legs and moving to stand beside him. Perhaps she’d meant to get a drink from the cooler? But then again, perhaps not.
Stannis looked up when she put her hand on his wrist and moved his arm from the table. He’d sat back in his chair, a frown on his face, confused, and said, “What—“ though whatever he was going to say next was halted abruptly as she sat in his lap and kissed him. Her full lips pressed gently, and then harder, against Stannis’ own. He seemed frozen in shock until she moaned and pressed against him, her body half twisted, wishing she could turn and straddle him to press her aching core against his hardness. She heard his pen clatter on the table before his hands found her waist, pulling her harder against him, eyes still wide and watching her as she kissed him. The look in his eyes spoke of shock as though he couldn’t quite believe this was really happening. Sansa pulled back a little, watching him as he watched her, and a hundred different lines rushed through her head.
Kiss me. Fuck me. I want you. I need you. Take me…
Instead, all she said was “Please.”
Papers shifted beneath her when Stannis picked her up and forced her back onto the table, leaning over her. His hands had moved to her wrists, holding them down either side of her head in a way that made her cunt tighten with need. One moment, two, they breathed together, Sansa’s pulse racing as she lay flat on her back. Then, she slowly moved her right leg up, her knee brushing against his chest, before she put it down on his other side, her calves bracketing his hips and her sensible flats finding purchase on the arms of the chair behind him.
Stannis’ face was flushed and his dark blue eyes she’d so admired were staring straight into her own with a hunger that took her breath away. She watched him, more turned on than she’d ever been in her life, as his eyes flicked down to where her skirt had bunched up around her waist revealing the lace of her knickers. He looked back at her and she couldn’t restrain the whimper that built in her throat.
Sansa needed more. She opened her mouth to ask, to beg, when she felt his hands tighten on her wrists and he slowly pressed his hips forward. It felt wonderful. It felt torturous. Sansa keened. She could feel the hard press of his cock against the fly of his trousers, which he pressed harder against the seam of her cunt. She thrust her hips up, frustrated as the sweet sensation of having him there was dulled by her knickers.
“Sansa,” he ground out. His voice was rough and heavy as they breathed together. Even now he was still so controlled, so tightly wound that she knew with a painful desperate ache that he still had enough control to pull back and leave her there, wanting and desperate.
“Tell me no, and I’ll stop.”
She didn’t want him to. Never. She wasn’t sure when the wanting had begun. When she’d first felt that heat between her legs at the thought of him and her in the conference room. In the back of his car. Against a wall. On the kitchen counter. In his bed. In her bed. Now, she wondered if it had ever not been there at all. There had been something about him from the first time they’d met and now she could no longer ignore it. She didn’t want to.
“Tell me to let you go and we’ll never speak of this again.” He sounded almost as desperate as she felt.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away. “Please.”
He looked to be in agony. She hadn’t said no or yes just...please.
Afraid that he would pull away and without her hands to pull him closer she used her legs - hooking them at the ankle to trap him between her thighs. The message was clear enough then, but just to make sure…
“Please, fuck me.”
Stannis’ lips came down hard on hers, his groan muffled by the press of their mouths as Sansa pushed herself up as much as she could with her hands held down and kissed him for all she was worth. Her hips, unable to stay still, ground against him, seeking friction for her ache, gasping when he bucked against her, her feet digging into his arse to pull him closer, closer, closer still…
Sansa bit his lip as she kissed him, making him jump. Then his chin, his jaw, his cheek. Kissing, sucking, nipping, until she got to his ear where she took the lobe in her mouth and sucked, nipping again. She felt half-cut, drunk on lust when Stannis growled and released her hands. They went to her thighs as he pulled back out of her reach. She tried to get up, but her hands landed on paper and he pulled her toward the edge of the table, her hands slipped on the loose sheets, sending her back, flat against the wood, gasping as his hands found her centre, teased her slit through her soaking knickers before he gripped the thin and flimsy piece and tore them. Sansa might have put up a token protest over her favourite pair of knickers, but she was too turned on, her skin heating, the back of her neck already prickling with sweat. She felt if he didn’t take her soon she’d go mad. Never, in all her life, had she wanted to be fucked so desperately as she did now.
With her underwear gone, Stannis began yanking at the buckle of his belt, not bothering to remove it from the loops before he was unzipping and letting his trousers drop, belt and all, to the floor. Then his underwear pushed to his thighs and cock free, his hand wrapped around the shaft with a groan as his eyes rose to meet hers.
Her breath hitched as he all but threw himself atop her and she finally felt his cock against her with not a single stitch of clothing in the way. It was perfect and Sansa felt herself grow even wetter when he began to move, the warm length of his cock teasing the lips of her pussy, brushing over her clit and back again. She moaned loudly and grasped at his shoulders, her nipples tightening in her bra, breasts feeling almost too full in their cups, wanting nothing more than all their clothes to burst into flames and turn to ash - the heat she was feeling surely enough - just to feel skin against skin.
Her face felt hot as she looked at Stannis, biting her lip to muffle her whimpers as his hands pulled her legs up to wrap around his waist, one hand helping to guide his cock to her dripping entrance, feeling the teasing press of his head against herself. She tried to urge him closer, pulling on his shoulders and muttering her pleas until he grasped her wrists again and pinned them above her head. Sansa felt her walls tighten at the strength in his arms. She knew he would have let go if she wanted to, but a small struggle, including the grinding surge of her hips, was delicious.
Stannis surged forward, cock pushed forcefully into her cunt, grunting as her walls clenched down on his shaft. It stung, but Sansa was too deep in her own lustful haze to really care - only wanting more ache, more fullness and Stannis was just the man to give it to her. If only he would go faster.
He smiled. A smug little thing that she’d never seen on his face before. He knew he was torturing her, knew she wanted to go faster than the slow push and pull he established after his first rough thrust. Sansa wanted it hard and fast. As fast as he’d put her on the table. Stannis was mistaken if he thought she didn’t have more than one trick up her sleeve.
Sansa squeezed her muscles - and her grip was strong because of the exercises she did - and she felt satisfaction when Stannis choked and his hips stuttered, eyes closing tightly as he grit his teeth.
“Faster, Baratheon,” she said breathily, “we haven’t got all day.”
Stannis looked at her through dark slitted eyes and then suddenly, Sansa was the one crying out. When Stannis Baratheon fucked, he really fucked. The sound of flesh slapping together sounded loud and fast in the room. Sansa was almost having an out of body experience with the way his hips met hers - fast and hard and utterly relentless. She was hot, her armpits sweating beneath the stretchy cable of her jumper and cunt dripping wet, the sounds they made as Stannis thrust in and out were obscene. No doubt the back of her skirt would have a wet spot or two once they were done. In her current blissful condition she couldn’t quite be forced to care, having her hands pinned above her head while Stannis’ cock thrust inside her over and over with all he had. It felt delicious and—oh.
No birth control.
For a moment Sansa was horrified. She had never been so careless in her life! Having stopped taking the pill a few months ago after the side effects had thoroughly overwhelmed her (that and how recent studies pointed toward the Pill causing and contributing toward depression in the user) Sansa knew she had to tell Stannis immediately.
“Stannis—“ she breathed, jerking in time with his thrusts, “protection!”
Stannis caught her gaze with a grimace, looking for all the world as though he was being tortured, though he continued to thrust. “Pill?”
Stannis groaned. “You could get pregnant.”
The thought made Sansa clench up and moan and Stannis growled, his hips slamming harder into hers, the table shaking beneath her with the force.
“Is that what you want?” he growled above her. “For me to spill my seed inside you? Put a baby in your belly?”
The thought excited her more than she thought possible, clenching down around him and feeling her release thunder toward her. Stannis could clearly feel her excitement, seeing the flush in her cheeks spread to her neck and no doubt chest had him wondering just how far the flush would spread. Her damnable jumper in the way.
“It is, isn’t it? You want to grow round with my child. Desperate for me to fuck you as you are now, gasping for it. I’d fill you over and over. You’d have one child after another - you’d be mine, surrounded by our children, always wanting more. Beg me for it, Sansa. Beg me to come inside you—“
“Please Stannis—please—come inside me — I need you —fill me p-please!”
Stannis snarled with his release, pounding her forcefully, his hands on her wrists tight enough to bruise. He bent his head to take her mouth hard while one of his hands, the one not holding her wrists, came to roughly grab her poor neglected breasts and fondle them roughly, seeking out her nipple through the fabric and pinching—
Light burst behind her eyes as she felt her walls clench down, her stomach spasming and her toes curling as she reached her peak, her back arching and twisting under the onslaught of sensation, desperately wanting more and wanting to get away from Stannis’ stuttering, thrusting hips. He was losing his rhythm and grunting as he spilt his seed inside her, pulse after pulse flowing from his twitching cock.
Pulling out with a wet sound, he sat back, slumping into his chair to watch his seed seep from Sansa’s pink cunt as she trembled. For once his thoughts were silent. He was surrounded by a pleasant haze that was lasting far longer than it usually did when he took matters in hand and found himself thinking of the woman lying splayed on the conference table before him. The sounds she made, the way she acted, desperate for him to spread her wide and pound into her had been intoxicating - enough that he had spoken without care or caution of filthy things that had made her surprisingly clench up around him.
Sansa shoots up when they hear the sound of crunching gravel outside and, in a burst of panicked energy, both of them are adjusting clothes and brushing out wrinkles to look as neat and calm as possible. Stannis snatches up Sansa’s torn, damp knickers once his belt is fastened and shoves them into his pocket, sharing a heated look with Sansa before she hurries back around to her chair and straightens up the paperwork.
As Ned and Robert return to the conference room, laughing over some shared joke, Stannis thinks about Sansa’s pale thighs and how his seed must be sticking there, reminding her until she washes of what they had done together. Or perhaps, she will have a more permanent reminder. Without protection, in a short few months, he could be a father.
It’s a few months later, tense and embarrassed at almost being caught with Sansa on her knees and her mouth around his cock in her father’s office, Stannis knows that just once had never been an option for them. The feelings, the release, the control she gives him is addictive and he cannot give it up. He knows Sansa cannot give it up either - she had said as much between gasps as he’d pressed her hands against a tree and fucked her hard from behind in the woods behind her father’s offices. If she had fallen pregnant that first time they were together without protection, their ‘relationship’ would have been far more difficult to conceal. That, and the fact his brother had apparently been working out why he wanted to work at Ned’s offices rather than in the city.
With the scent of whisky seeping into the leather of his seats, Stannis almost veers straight off the road when his brother laughs with sudden volume beside him.
“Robert!” he barks, scowling fiercely at the dark road ahead, heart pounding as he straightens up, grinding his teeth as his heart rate slowly returns to normal.
His brother is unconcerned at their almost-car-crash and looks at him with startled amusement. “I’ve just realised why I like working in Ned’s office so much!”
Stannis scoffs and keeps his eyes focused firmly on the road. The idea that Robert would have died from thinking is not enough to cool his temper. He might be able to laugh at it later.
“Well, aren’t you going to ask me why?” Robert asks.
“Because you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“Ha! I suppose you wouldn’t be able to recognise it!” His brother laughs as though it’s the funniest thing in the world.
“Well?” Stannis snaps, willing him to get over it so they can resume the rest of the car ride in silence.
“Ned’s office smells like pussy! I bet he’s had Cat all over the furniture. I know what I’d do on that conference table!”
Stannis feels a moment of cold shock shoot down his spine before his face turns hot, glad that it’s too dark to see how his neck and cheeks have reddened at his brother's exclamation.
“Don’t be obscene Robert!” Stannis snaps as harshly as he can. “You may talk like that anywhere else except the places in which I have to listen to you — and that includes this car. Now shut up or you’ll be walking home.”
Robert huffs and turns to look sullenly out the window, and mutters, “But it does…” low under his breath.
Stannis decides then that he and Sansa should take this outside of work.