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The staircase that led to Jon Snow’s flat seemed endless, and Sansa’s heart beat faster and faster with each step. With one hand she carried a lemon cake she had baked herself, and with the other she continuously pulled down the hem of her tight red dress which, perhaps, was way too short for her long legs. She had spent hours in front of the mirror, trying on different blouses and dresses and she had finally opted for this one. It was tight and above the knee, and it was one of her favourites. She had worn it once or twice before, and had thought about giving it a go tonight, but now that she found herself in front of Jon’s door, she almost regretted her decision.

What if it’s too much? she could not help but wonder as she rang his doorbell. Luckily, all doubts and insecurities dissipated when he opened the door.

With a hand frozen on the door handle, for a moment, Jon seemed unable to speak. His lips parted as though he were about to say something, but no word escaped from them. His wide eyes travelled up and down Sansa’s figure many times, and when he became aware of the way he was looking at her, he shook his head and lowered his gaze in shame. Maybe this dress wasn’t a bad idea, after all.

“Hi, Sansa, I— please, come in, I was just about to finish, uh, preparing…”

Sansa had almost forgotten how cute he would get whenever he was embarrassed. “Hi, Jon,” she said as she stepped inside, suppressing a grin and giving him a soft kiss on his cheek, his beard softly scratching her skin. “I brought this,” she told him with a smile, holding up the cake plate in front of his eyes.

He took it from her hand and examined it for a second. “A cake?”

“A lemon cake,” she corrected him.

Of course.” Jon shook his head and laughed. “You really love everything with lemon, don’t you?”

Sansa laughed. “And you? Last time I checked you were very fond of lemonade, too.”

“Fair point.” He guided her to his living room, which was cozy enough to make her feel at home immediately. “Dinner is almost ready. I just need a minute to change into something else, all right?”

“Of course,” she said as she sat on the black leather sofa. “I’ll wait here.”

He smiled at her one last time and turned on his heel towards what must be his bedroom.

Now alone, Sansa gazed around her. A wooden coffee table divided the sofa from two grey armchairs, and many framed pictures were hung on the walls. She stood up and walked closer to them. Near a modern library filled with what seemed to be thousands of books, one of the pictures caught Sansa’s attention. A grey-haired man and a black-haired boy posed for the camera. The man looked quite old, and the boy’s bright blue eyes were his most remarkable feature. None of them looked like Jon, but it did not take her long to put two and two together. They must be his father and brother, Sansa thought as she brushed the thin glass with two fingers.

When she heard some soft steps coming from behind her, she turned around, but she did not see Jon. Lady? she wondered, but it was silly even to consider that. The dog in front of her resembled her own dog in a way, but was way bigger than her, and his fur was white as fresh snow, and not grey like Lady’s. Sansa stood still, letting the wolflike dog pad closer to her, and when he sniffed her foot and then her hand, she knelt in front of him and gently scratched him under his chin, her fingers getting lost in the thickness of his fur. Now that he was close, and Sansa gazed into his crimson eyes, her childhood memories came back all at once in a sudden realisation.

She jumped to her feet with a gasp. “Jon!” she yelled before she could even process it. The dog tilted his head and observed her, but did not make a sound.

“What happened? Jon ran into the room, his white shirt still half-unbuttoned. “Ghost! To me!” The dog quietly padded towards his master, his immaculate tail wiggling behind him, but that did not seem to calm Jon at all. “I’m sorry he scared you. I should’ve warned you that—”

“Not at all,” Sansa reassured him with a smile. “He didn’t scare me. Actually, sorry for yelling, I shouldn’t have.”

A frown appeared on Jon’s face. “Then, why did you scream?”

Sansa stepped closer to the albino dog and pointed at him. “When you got him, was he the remaining one of a litter of six?”

Jon reflected for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck and squinting, as if his memories were right there in front of him and he struggled to see them clearly. “I think so, why?”

Sansa snapped her fingers. “I knew it!

Jon looked even more bewildered than before. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“I adopted his sister,” she said excitedly. “When my siblings and I got our dogs, there was another one that we didn’t get, an albino, and I’m pretty sure it’s him.”

Jon gazed down at his shoes, on top of which his dog was resting his huge head. “Ghost?

Yes!” It made perfect sense in Sansa’s mind, but Jon did not seem convinced yet.

“Are you sure? I mean, he’s certainly not the only albino dog in the whole country.”

No, but he looks like his siblings. Only, he’s white.” Now, Ghost was sniffing Sansa’s shoes again. “Do you remember when and where you got him?”

Jon rubbed his eyes as though he was trying to remember. “My father brought him home from Brighton, I think, where he worked at the time, seven or eight years ago, and…” He stopped for a moment, and his eyes widened and met Sansa’s. “Wait, you told me that your family lives in Brighton, didn’t you?”

Sansa crossed her arms and nodded. “It’s him, Jon. I have no doubt.”

He gazed down at his dog again and his eyes widened even further. “If it’s really his sister that you’ve adopted…God, what are the odds?”

Sansa let out a laugh. “I know, I thought the same thing.”

While they both looked down at him, Ghost got to all fours and jumped on the sofa, tickling Sansa’s legs through her stockings with his thick tail as he passed.

Sansa took a step closer to Jon, erasing the distance between them, and started working on the rest of his buttons. “What are the odds, right?”

Jon chuckled and followed every movement of her hands with his eyes. “Exactly what I thought when I saw you in my lecture room for the first time.”

Sansa blushed and bit her lip, her knuckles softly brushing against his bare chest. “Was that all that you thought about?”

“Well, that and…” he cupped her hips with both hands, pulling her closer to him, “…too bad I can’t take her out.”

Their lips were so close that they could touch. “But we’re here now anyway.”

A flash of concern appeared in Jon’s eyes. “Sansa, if you ever feel uncomfortable, you need to tell me, all right? I don’t ever want to force you to do anything,” he concluded, tucking a strand of her loose red hair behind her ear.

“You don’t need to worry, Jon.” Sansa finished buttoning up his shirt and rested both hands on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt. “If I’m here, it’s because I want it.”

His lips curled up into a warm smile, and some little wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes. As he hooked a hand behind her head and leaned closer, she closed her eyes and waited for his mouth to meet hers, but his lips kissed her forehead instead. It was not what she had expected, but his lips had felt sweet nevertheless. After reopening her eyes, his own were gazing into hers, and she could not help but let out a laugh.

“What?” Jon asked her, unaware of what had made her laugh.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re sweet, that’s all.”

Pink spread over his cheeks. “Before you arrived, I had worried that I’d have to compete with Ghost for your attention,” he joked.

“Well, he undoubtedly has a certain amount of cuteness that you lack.”

Sansa turned around and glanced at the dog who, in the meanwhile, had fallen asleep on the sofa, his nose tucked under his tail.

“He’s sleeping, so I guess you’ll have to settle for spending your evening with me,” he teased her.

Sansa muffled a laugh with her hand. “I promise I’ll give you a chance, all right?”

Oh, so kind of you. Anyway, let’s go, now,” he murmured, taking her hand into his and guiding her to the kitchen. “Dinner is awaiting us.”

Sansa folded her hands on her lap as Jon placed a pasta bowl in front of her and poured some red wine into her glass. Very chivalrous, she thought.

Now that he was seated in front of her, she had the chance to observe him. The white shirt he was wearing fitted him perfectly and accentuated his muscles in a way that made Sansa’s belly tingle whenever she laid her eyes upon his broad shoulders. His dark curls were perfectly combed, and his beard was neatly trimmed. He looked so handsome that Sansa almost thought about sitting on his lap and kissing him, but she knew that she had to silence her fantasies. For now, at least.

Jon sat opposite her and sipped on some wine. “So, how did it go with your family?”

Sansa rolled some spaghetti around her fork. “Oh, very well. I mean, they occasionally pay me a visit like they did this time.”

“And their timing was perfect, I would say,” he joked with a smirk.

Sansa chuckled. “Perhaps I should change the lock.”

“Perhaps,” he echoed, lowering his gaze and smiling slyly at the pasta bowl in front of him.

“You mentioned that your father worked in Brighton. What does he do for a living?” Sansa asked.

“He worked on cruise ships at the time, so he would spend a lot of time in Brighton. He’s retired now, anyway.”

“Oh, so you lived in Brighton, too?”

Jon nodded. “For a few years. Then we moved back to London.”

After Jon lowered his gaze on his plate again, Sansa thought that it would be better not to inquire further. From what he had hinted at during their first date, it was clear that he came from a difficult background, and as long as he did not feel at ease enough to open up more, she would not push him.

“Anyway, you’re a great cook,” she told him as she chewed on a mouthful of spaghetti, managing to get a smile out of him. “This is delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it.” His smile widened and he sipped on some wine. “So, you said that Ghost has five siblings?”

“Yes,” she answered, wiping some sauce away from her mouth with a napkin. “Two sisters and three brothers.”

Jon’s eyes widened. “And your family adopted them all?”

Sansa nodded as she drank some wine. “We got one for each one of us. That’s why we didn’t get Ghost.”

“And what are their names?”

Sansa laid the glass down on the table, and counted with her fingers. “Mine is called Lady. The others are Grey Wind, Nymeria, Summer and Shaggydog.”

Lady,” he echoed, and Sansa genuinely wondered for a second if he was making fun of her.

“Are you mocking me?”

“I would never,” he declared, raising both his hands in front of him. “It’s actually an interesting name for a dog.”

Interesting?” She poured herself some more wine. “Well, sorry if it’s not as tough as Ghost.” Now, she was the one teasing him. She smirked, twirling her glass and watching the dark wine spin, before laying her eyes upon him again.

Lady is just fine. I bet she’s elegant like you.”

His sudden compliment made her blush, but she managed to reply without stuttering. “And is Ghost as smooth as you are?”

He chuckled. “I guess you’ll have to see for yourself,” he said as they both ate the last bites of pasta left in their bowls.

After the first course, a side dish followed. Sansa tried to serve herself now, but Jon stopped her before she could grab the salad bowl. “You are the guest tonight, so you won’t need to lift a finger.”

“Thank you, Jon,” she said, looking up at him as he filled her plate with spinach, nuts and apple slices.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, smiling at her in that adorable way that made her swoon.

He sat across from her again and she could not contain a moan when she tried the salad. “This spinach is amazing,” she said, pointing at her plate with her fork. “Where did you buy it?”

“I didn’t.” He swallowed some food and spoke again. “My neighbour grows it on her balcony.”

“And she gave it to you?”

“Not really.” His lips curved in a sly smile.

It took Sansa a moment to understand what he meant. “You mean you… Jon!”

He laughed as if she had just told him the funniest joke in the world. “Are you angry now?”

“I should be. And you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Come on, I took just a few. And she probably won’t notice anyway.”

Sansa tried to remain serious but there was something in the way Jon laughed that made her crack up as well. They were both laughing now, and as she finished eating her salad with the stolen spinach, she realised that there was no other place she would rather be.

Jon made to stand up but she got to her feet faster than him. “You stay there now. I made that cake and I am going to serve it.”

He chuckled as she removed all the dirty dishes from the table. “All right, I give up.” His voice was a mix of amusement and tipsiness, and a quick glance to the wine on the table made Sansa realise that they had emptied the bottle without even knowing it. She, herself, was starting to feel her head swimming a little, just enough to make her braver and more confident.

She placed the cake in the middle of the table and cut two slices, serving Jon one. As she took her first bite, she observed him to see his reaction.

God, Sansa,” he moaned with his eyes shut, in a way that she certainly was not expecting and which made her blush. If he drank just a little bit more, he’d be totally drunk. “You have a gift for baking, I swear.”

She did not hide a proud smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Oh, yes, I like it. But you know what I like more?”

She shook her head. “What?”

You.” He took her by surprise. Sansa was not oblivious, and she had noticed the way he had been looking at her since she had set foot into his flat, but hearing him say it this way, with his cheeks reddened by the wine and an innocent smile on his face, made her heart flutter like the night she had first seen him, when she had ordered a lemonade and did not know his name yet.

She stood up, leaving half of her slice on her plate, and walked over to him. He pushed himself from the table and spread his legs to allow her some space. She sat on his lap and hooked one arm behind his neck, feeling the warmth of his breath on her lips.

“I like you too, Jon,” she whispered into his ear, tracing his jawline with a finger.

“Sansa,” he murmured against her body, burying his face in the curve between her neck and her shoulder, tickling her skin with his beard. “Kissing you that day in my office was one of the best things I’ve ever done.”

A wave of electricity ran down her spine. She cupped his face with one hand and guided his gaze to hers. “You can kiss me again, now.”

He did not waste any more time. Jon’s lips crashed against hers, hungry and violent. She let herself get engulfed by his kiss, yet she could not help but chuckle against his lips at how tipsy he was. She had gotten used to him always being sturdy and serious, and right now, seeing him like this, was something that Sansa had not expected to see. He was certainly fun to watch, with the way he tried to articulate some words between kisses, resulting in his mouth mumbling something incomprehensible, but no matter how adorable or funny he looked, he did not fail to stir some heat within her.

She kept his lips on his, following the movements of his mouth with hers, moaning and whimpering with every twist of his tongue. His hands went everywhere. They moved sloppily on her body, grabbing and pulling and caressing all at the same time, and he cursed under his breath when his fingers grabbed her thighs and tore her stockings apart.

“Sorry,” Jon muttered, pulling away from the kiss and gazing down at the holes on her thighs.

“Don’t be.” With his curls all messy and his cheeks flushed, he was a vision. She hopped off his lap and he stood up as well, hooking a hand behind her neck and chasing her mouth with his. He pushed her body against the nearest wall and grabbed her thighs again, tearing her stockings apart even further, making her whimper when his hot fingers burned against her bare skin. Her back against the wall, she ran her hands through his hair, slightly pulling it as he kissed her. His lips tasted of wine, of lemon, of him, and they felt so sweet that she would rather die than let go. He pressed his body onto hers, pushing up the hem of her dress, and she quivered when she felt his arousal between her legs.

“Sansa,” Jon muttered against her neck when she pressed herself on him, making a grunt slip out of his lips.

“Just kiss me.” She found talking so unnecessary now. As if he had read her mind, he pulled away from her, leaving her with her lips still parted as if she were still kissing him, and took her hand, leading her towards his bedroom. As she walked close behind him, she realised that one of her feet was bare. She must have lost her shoe in the heat of the moment, and even though the most perfectionist part of her wanted to get it back, she shook her head and reminded herself that there was something more important now to think about.

Jon’s lips found Sansa’s again. He pushed the door of his bedroom open with his back while still kissing her. He flipped her around, making her gasp, and unzipped her dress. She shimmied out of it and kicked it aside, and was now standing in front of him in her underwear only, thin layers of fabric covering her most intimate parts. She helped him getting undressed, but the sight of his dark eyes drinking every bit of her body made her heart flutter and her fingers tremble.

Shit, get a grip, Sansa, she told herself as she tried to unbutton his shirt, yet her fingers failed her.

She let out an exasperated huff. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit nervous.”

“It’s okay, don’t be sorry.” Jon reassured her with a voice softer than silk and sweeter than honey. He may be tipsy and aroused, yet his good manners had never abandoned him. “The belt,” he said, nodding at it, a stray curl tumbling over his forehead. “I’ll do the buttons.”

Sansa hummed, chewing on her lower lip, and as she unbuckled the strip of leather around his waist, she could not help but smile at how she had tried to do this in his office before he had suggested going on an actual date first.

Jon tugged his trousers to the ground and Sansa managed to work up the nerve to help him with his shirt. She pushed it away from his shoulders and rested her hands on them, feeling his muscles tense and loosen with every movement of his. A smile bloomed on his lips, and he darted out his tongue to lick them.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, pulling her closer and caressing her cheekbone.

“Yes.” She kissed him, gasping when his hands travelled from her shoulders to her hips and then to her bum. 

He took the lead once again and in a whirlwind of lips and tongues and hands, Sansa found herself on his bed, her head between two pillows. His bedroom was dimly lit, but she could see Jon’s eyes sparkling like two diamonds. She could see all sorts of things in them: lust, tenderness, devotion. A mix of things she had never seen in no other man’s eyes. He looked at her in the way every woman would ever want to be looked at.

“May I?” Jon asked her once he got atop her, one hand on either side of her head, nodding at her stockings. When she nodded, he rolled them down, one and then the other, and the feeling of his fingertips skimming the sensitive skin of her thighs gave her goosebumps. He tossed her ruined stockings aside and placed himself on top of her again. He dropped quick yet hot kisses on her lips, chin, jawline and neck, his breath sweet with the scent of lemon and wine. Sansa stretched her neck to one side to give him easy access to the sensitive spot behind her ear, loving every second his feverish lips spent on her skin. She wrapped her fingers around his arms, stifling a gasp at how tense his muscles were. And I thought I was the nervous one.

“Jon,” she managed to utter between moans and breaths. He pulled away from her neck and gazed at her with confused eyes. “You’re too nervous. Relax.”

His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “I’m not nervous,” he declared, sounding as if he wanted to convince himself and not her.

Yes, you are,” she insisted, massaging his arms that were hard as steel. “Don’t be embarrassed, I’m nervous too.”

He bit his lip, but Sansa did not miss how it had been trembling. “It’s just…you’re beautiful, Sansa. And I don’t wanna ruin it.”

“Ruin what?” She blushed at the compliment, but hated to know that, somehow, he did not feel at ease. “We’ve already done this, Jon.”

“I know, but—” His eyes drifted away from hers, and he shut his lids and pressed them hard. “This time it’s…it’s different.”

“How? Please, explain it to me. I want to understand.” She tried her best to speak in a soft tone, the one she would use with her younger siblings whenever they wanted to confess something to her but failed to find the courage to do so. Right now, she was in front of a side of Jon she had never seen. Now that the effect of the wine had faded away from his mind, his eyes were swimming in the same concern that he had showed in his office, when he had tried to push her away to shield her from the risks of their relationship. It was not rejection, Sansa had no doubt about that. It was his usual way of putting his own desires aside to protect her whenever he thought that she would get hurt. This time, though, Sansa knew that there were no risks. This time, she was absolutely safe.

Still hovering over her, he cupped her cheek in the most delicate way. “It’s not easy for me to explain.”

“Please, try.”

He rolled off her and landed on the other half of his bed. She instantly felt cold and empty without his body close to hers, but she knew that he needed to calm down before they could do anything else.

“It’s…” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “You’re amazing, Sansa, you really are.” He paused and turned his head to look at her, and she could not help but allow her lips to curl into a smile. “You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re funny and I love how good your hair smells all the time.”

She laughed, causing him to fall silent. Perhaps he’s still a bit tipsy after all. Or maybe not. “Please continue, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Jon pushed himself up and rested onto an elbow. “What I mean is that it’s not just sex to me.” He swept some hair away from her forehead and leaned closer. “It never was. And please, don’t think that I’m regretting our decision. I’m just so nervous because I…” He paused and sighed, then worked up the courage to speak again. “I like you more than I had imagined.”

His confession made her heart skip a beat. Sansa had found him handsome ever since the first time she had seen him, but hearing him speak like this now made her want to hold him and never let him go in a way she had never experienced. She could imagine how nervous he must be, after all, she was quite nervous, too. The feelings in her heart were exciting and frightening at the same time, but for every part of her that whispered to run away and hide, a million others screamed to stay. And now, there was nothing else that Sansa wanted more than to stay.

“It’s not just sex to me, either.” She ran her fingers from his pulsating temple to his clenched jaw, trying to melt his tension away with the softness of her fingertips. “And I trust you completely, that’s why I’m sure that you could never hurt me. Look, Jon, I’m nervous too, and it’s perfectly normal to be. But you have to trust me, all right? Do you trust me?” It’s just us tonight, and I don’t want to think about anything else.

He nodded, and his eyes stared into hers as if he were on the verge of apologising. “Of course I do.”

“I mean, I’m half-naked on your bed, and if you run away now I’ll start doubting your interest in me,” she teased him, and when Jon chuckled, visibly relaxed, Sansa felt immediately relieved.

“Running away is the last thing I intend to do now.”

She cupped both his cheeks and pulled his face closer to hers. “Good. Because I don’t wanna run away either.”

They kissed again and this time Jon’s lips felt softer. He put himself on top of her again, finally shielding her from the cold, giving her the warmth that she had been hungering for. She let her fingers run wildly through his hair, messing it up as his mouth travelled from her lips to her neck. Sansa felt that he was more relaxed now, their limbs not clashing anymore in their embrace, and knew that it was the right moment for what she had been dying to do. 

She slid one hand under her own back and unclasped her bra, making a surprised smirk appear on Jon’s lips. As she arched her back to get rid of it, he pulled away slightly to allow her more space and watched in a religious silence as she tossed it away, revealing her breasts to him. Sansa bit her lip in anticipation and gazed up at him, and she knew that if his cheeks were flushed, it was not from embarrassment, it was from desire. His insecurities pushed aside, he met her lips again and tasted every inch of her skin, every little curve of her neck and collarbone until his mouth found her breasts. 

Eager to be engulfed by his mouth, Sansa arched her back a little and he slid an arm beneath her, supporting her quivering body as he traced the shape of her stiff nipple with his tongue. With his free hand he grabbed her other breast, stroking her skin in a way that made her moan shamelessly. His tongue swirled and flicked around her nipple, drawing endless lines and curves that left her breathless. His lips parted and clasped around it, and his teeth nipped at it just a little. Sansa lifted her head from the pillow and peered at him through the fog of her arousal, and it was even better than how she had imagined it in her bathroom a few days before. He kept licking and sucking while palming her other breast, and the sight of the crown of dark curls resting on her chest, along with the wet sounds his mouth would make against her hot flesh, made her burn with desire and impatience. As Jon still worked his tongue against her breast, Sansa pushed down her panties with shaking hands and sighed with relief now that she was finally free.

Jon stopped and lifted his head from her body to look down at her core, and she saw him bite his lip. He made to move closer to the apex of her thighs, but she quickly slid two fingers under his unshaven chin and made him look up.

“Come here. I want to kiss you.”

He did not let her say it twice. His mouth was back on hers in the blink of an eye, and he had sucked and licked her so intensely that she could taste the fruity perfume she had sprayed on herself before leaving her flat. He was kissing her with the same passion with which he had feasted on her breast, and a loud moan slipped out of her shaking lips when she felt his cock, still restrained inside his briefs, pressing on her own throbbing core.

They kept kissing, and she only pulled away when she looked for his hand, which had been cupping her naked hip. He looked at her with confused eyes, and perhaps for a moment he had thought that she was regretting it, but the crease of worry disappeared from his forehead as fast as it had appeared when she brought his hand close to her mouth and kissed his knuckles.

“I could do it myself, but I want you to do it to me.” He did not understand at first, but when she guided his hand past her belly and between her warm thighs, where her slick core was already awaiting him, all doubt dissipated from his eyes.

“Show me how you love it.” His voice was hoarser than usual, and his lip trembled a little but Sansa knew that this time it was from desire and not insecurity. She spread her legs open, allowing his hand to briefly rest on top of her mound, and she took two of his fingers and gently placed them on her clit. She could not feel herself but she imagined how wet she must be by now, and sighed with relief when Jon traced her slit in its entirety and then went back on her clit. He started rubbing her, circling her slowly, almost too slowly.

She did not even need to tell him to speed up for he anticipated her, picking up the pace and rubbing faster. She clenched the bedsheets at her sides, biting her lip but letting moans of pleasure escape all the same, cursing his name every now and then. She loved the way he looked at her. He was enjoying pleasuring her, she knew for sure, certainly just as much as she was adoring the feeling of his fingers against her. As he went back to kissing her, his fingers kept tracing hot circles on her slick clit, and with every flick of his wrist she would moan louder into his mouth.

She wanted to let him know how much she was loving it, to make sure that he really knew, but when she opened her mouth to speak her voice failed her, and from her throat only moans and sighs and heavy breaths managed to spill. Jon was still kissing her, sucking all the air from her lungs, working his fingers against her, and right when she felt herself come closer to the edge, he slid one finger inside her. Sansa thought that he must be exhausted from holding himself up on one arm only, but the way his hand moved against her made it clear that he would not stop until she was completely satisfied. He added another finger inside her, and kept rubbing and circling and drinking every moan and curse that would spill from her feverish mouth. She felt his fingers curl inside her and while Jon’s mouth was still on hers, she pulled away and threw her head back on the pillow, riding the endless waves of pleasure that radiated from her core and traversed her whole, quivering body.

Her mind went blank during her climax, and all she could manage to do was moan his name, gasping for air even after his hand had left her. Her body was still writhing when Jon cupped her cheek and placed a long, passionate kiss on her lips, which were still too shaky to return it in full.

“I love seeing you come.” His voice was a low whisper full of lust.

“And I love coming for you…” she replied, now finding the strength to kiss him back like he deserved to be kissed, “…and making you come as well.”

Sansa smiled coyly from beneath him and placed both hands on his chiseled chest. Their lips met in another passionate kiss before she flipped him over and pushed his legs open, nestling between them. She wanted to be in charge now. Jon devoured her with his eyes, and when she helped him rid himself of his underwear, finally setting his hard cock free, the sight of him panting made her feel ready to do it all again.

She took him in her hand, slowly circling the tip with her thumb at first, and then started sliding her wrapped fingers up and down as soon as she saw him shut his eyes and clench his jaw in the agonising pleasure she was giving him. She bit her lip and picked up the pace. As her hand worked him relentlessly, with her other hand she started rubbing herself. On his back, Jon lifted his head and grunted at the sight of the little show she was putting on between his thighs. His eyes initially landed on his cock, then drifted to her eyes, then went down again, on her core, where her own fingers were circling where she was swollen and wet again. Sansa could not help but smirk at the way he looked at her. He must be desperate by now, she knew for sure. No matter how much she loved pleasuring him with her hand, she needed to feel him inside her, and when he started rolling his hips up against her hand, she knew that he was longing for the same.

Her fingers let him go and he made to protest but his words died in his mouth when she straddled him, one leg on either side of his hips. He grabbed a condom from his nightstand and handed it to her, and after sliding it on his length, she guided it with two fingers towards her entrance and then inside her. She sighed when he filled her up, and panted when he grabbed her breasts with his hands. She started bouncing up and down, her nails digging in the flesh of his thighs looking for a stable grip. Jon pinched her nipples, getting a whimper out of her, and then his hands made their way towards her hips, where they stroked her skin. She kept riding him, and he helped her by pushing her up and pulling her down rhythmically with every movement. 

It was pure electricity that their bodies created together. Up and down, back and forth, Sansa kept riding and riding, the wet sounds coming from where they were joined filling her ears and making her moan even louder. She did not want to hold back, she did not need to, and she perfectly knew that even if she tried, she could not. She loved being on top of him, setting the pace, deciding the depth and the rhythm. She loved watching him from above and seeing him like that: sweaty, breathless, struggling to stay still, completely at her mercy. She loved being the one calling the shots. And she loved, oh she adored the way his exhausted eyes ran up and down her body, from her scarlet hair past her heaving breasts to her warm thighs, where he disappeared inside her with every roll of her hips.

She peered through her heavy lids and saw Jon pushing himself up. Now seated, with her still on top of him, he wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her firmly. He kissed her passionately and squeezed her bum with both hands, and Sansa saw him smirk when her lips slipped away from his and she desperately cursed his name for the millionth time that night. He’s even better than in my fantasies.

“Keep going,” Jon incited her as she bounced over him, her arms over his shoulders. “You’re amazing.”

She gathered the strength to nod and rested her forehead on his, shutting her eyes. She let herself enjoy every second of how good he felt inside her without thinking about anything else. And just when she felt her muscles around him tightening, Jon secured his grip on her hips and rolled her over. 

Before Sansa could realise what had just happened, he climbed on top of her, entering her again and filling her completely. She was so slick that he had to tighten the grip on her hips, almost hurting her, not to slide out of her. He thrust and thrust, deeper and faster, holding her shaking body tightly. With trembling fingers she rubbed herself again, quickly stroking her swollen clit, amplifying the pleasure while enjoying the feeling of her muscles clenching around Jon. God, it’s even better than our first time.

He leaned closer to her, nestling his face in the crook of her neck, whispering and grunting in her ear. “Come for me again,” he murmured, and it was enough to send her over the edge. As she rubbed faster and her breathing quickened, she orgasmed again, harder and louder, in a beautiful mess of sweat and pleasure alike, writhing beneath him and screaming his name as if her life depended solely on it.

He was still thrusting inside her when his breathing became quick and uneven and she realised he was coming, too. When he collapsed on her to catch his breath, his body felt heavy, but she loved the feeling of having him so close. His curls tickled her forehead and his beard scratched her cheeks when he placed one last kiss on her mouth, and she could not help but smile mid-kiss. He stayed atop her some more, and she wished he would never leave. She cupped his cheeks and his eyes opened, meeting hers, glimmering in a way she had never seen them shine, and a smile formed on his swollen lips.

He slid out of her and rolled on his back, and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. His chest was still jerking up and down, just like hers. Her eyes drifted off to the dark ceiling above his bed and then closed. She was lying there, naked and sweaty, with her hair and makeup probably ruined, but that was the furthest thing from her mind right now.

Her eyes still closed and her mind satiated yet exhausted, she felt the bed rise when he got up to dispose of the condom, and then sink when he laid back beside her. She turned her head and lazily opened her eyes. Her heart fluttered light as a butterfly’s wings when she saw his brown eyes staring into hers.

“How do you feel?” he asked her, as if he did not already know, but she knew that it was just his usual, attentive way of making sure that everything was fine.

Never been better. “Good,” Sansa replied, smiling. “And you?”

“Me too.” He pulled the covers over their naked bodies and moved closer to her, careful not to take up all the space on his bed. She lifted her heavy legs and placed them on top of his, soaking up the warmth that radiated from his body, and in response he topped them with his other one. She closed her eyes again, enjoying the feeling of Jon’s legs nestling hers, and even though it was not that late she could already feel slumber dulling her senses.

“Anyway, there’s still some lemon cake in the kitchen,” Jon said after a short while, making her eyes fly open.

Sansa stared at him incredulously and did not even try to hold back a laugh. “Is that really what you’re thinking about now?”

Jon chuckled and scooted closer to her, softly caressing her hair. “I thought that you could be hungry, that’s all.”

“All right,” Sansa said with a smile, closing her eyes and feeling sleep close in. “We’ll eat. Maybe later.”