The soft sound of humming had Tywin moving closer. Unbidden, like a moth to a flame, he followed the sound through the master’s suite, tossing his suit jacket onto the bed as he went. The lavender scent of his bubble bath reached his nose the moment he turned the corner, smirking at the sight of the tall redhead ensconced in the whirlpool tub.
At his entrance, she turned to look at him, her fiery curls piled atop her head and a rather adorable little headband holding it from her face.
Her hair was a shade he knew well, one that he found singular amongst the women of their high society. There was no mistaking who this beauty was, even if she was well-hidden by the lather atop the water, only a porcelain foot visible at the opposite end of the tub.
“Well,” she sighed. “You’re not Jaime.”
“And you are Sansa Stark” he countered, playing coy and allowing her to lead this encounter. He leaned against the counter top to watch her. Not a bad view, if he had to be honest.
“And you’re ‘The Great Lion’,” she smirked. “Tywin Lannister. In the flesh.”
“I must admit,” he crossed his arms. “It isn’t everyday that I come home to find the woman my son has been trying to seduce in my bathtub.”
“Trying being the operative word,” she raised a brow. “It isn’t everyday I indulge in a bath. Regular tubs are too short, you see, but this one” she raised a leg, soap and warm water trailing down the porcelain skin before she lowered it once more. “This one is perfection.”
“Custom made” he said simply and her eyes raked over his great height in understanding.
“Lovely” she sighed. “You’re home early.”
“It is my home, I did not realize there was a set time when I was not permitted” he said.
“As much as you are brilliant, your son certainly isn’t” she chuckled, raising a hand to rest on the tub’s side. “He drops me here and then runs off for some urgent project. Whatever is a girl to do?”
“Strip and sit in another man’s bath, I see is the answer.”
“For as brilliant a politician as your father was” Tywin rubbed his chin. “You are not.”
“Jaime has been long involved with Brienne Tarth” Tywin stated. “A political alliance, I am sure. Tarth has been trying to get his hands into Casterly for years, he’s sent his daughter to do the hard work.”
“Tarth is bankrupt” the beautiful woman--Sansa replied. “He’s desperate and his daughter is homely at best. Jaime is just infatuated and they’re using him. But—”
“You haven’t given me nearly enough credit” Sansa leaned forward, crossing her arms on the side of the tub, the bubbles shifting dangerously low on her chest.
“Oh?” he echoed her earlier sentiment.
“Jaime is using me to hide his affair,” she explained. “I used him to get what I really wanted.”
“You” she said plainly and he had certainly not expected that.
“Me?” he asked, watching as she toyed with a few of the bubbles.
“I made myself a promise, many years ago,” she continued. “You were kind to me, though I am sure you do not remember—”
“Your parent’s Christmas party, eight years ago” he cut in, remembering the encounter with vivid detail. “You were just...seventeen at the time.”
“I was” she gave a lecherous smile. “But I am not just seventeen anymore.”
“Thank you for noticing” she laughed softly.
“You’re quite welcome” he chuckled, glancing to the table alongside the whirlpool tub to see a pair of wine glasses and a bottle of arbor gold, not one of his own. “Stark Cellars?”
“Our reserve. Quite delicious but impossible to attain on the open market.”
“You certainly know how to seduce a man” he countered.
“I am glad you think so, this is my first time” she licked her lower lip, a flash of uncertainty filling her eyes before she pushed it away. In that moment, he believed her when she said she had never done this before. While she was beautiful and well-respected in their social circles, she still seemed innocent. Untainted.
“And how is it going?” he asked.
“I can’t tell yet” she once again raked her eyes over him. “You’re still over there, and I am still over here…”
“If this were going well, what would I do next?”
“You’d open the wine, pour us each a glass” she shifted in the tub, moving towards the back to make room. “And then you’d join me.”
“And after that?” he straightened from his perch against the counter, making a show of removing his cufflinks to set them aside.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
Tywin couldn’t help but chuckle, watching her intently as he moved across the bathroom to open the bottle of wine with a deft hand. He couldn’t remember the last time he had tasted Stark gold, and it seemed that he would get more than a taste of that tonight. He knew well enough to let the wine breathe, stepping back to let the air do its work, this time he lifted his hands to his shirt.
Sansa watched as The Great Lion unbuttoned his shirt, his sharp emerald eyes watching her as he worked the buttons and material free. Her heart was racing in her chest, beating so quickly that she was almost certain that it would escape from her ribs at any moment.
She had, almost certainly, not expected this to work. Not this well, of course, if at all. She had anticipated being dragged from the tub and subject to an angry Tywin Lannister lecture about modesty or her clumsy attempt at seduction. She had expected rejection.
But….She bit her lower lip as he parted the white shirt and shrugged it away, leaving him in a well-fitted undershirt and tan slacks.
She was grateful that the water hid her well, as she was almost certain that she was visibly trembling. A sensation that grew worse as Tywin removed his expensive tan leather shoes before moving his hands to his even more expensive looking belt.
She had made herself a promise, back on the eve of her eighteenth birthday when Tywin Lannister had saved her from sure embarrassment--and worse, during a grand Christmas celebration.
Back then, she only knew him by reputation, but the moment he spirited her aside and helped her to fix the dress that Joffrey had nearly ruined with his inability to understand the word ‘no’, she knew that The Great Lion had more heart than any had given him credit for.
He had helped her, emerald eyes filled with warmth as he offered her a red handkerchief to sort out her ruined makeup and fresh tears. He stayed with her, a calming influence and then, when she was ready, he offered her his arm and escorted her into the party.
She had never forgotten the kindness he had shown to her, and from that first moment on, Tywin Lannister had become the ‘gold standard’ of men. A poor pun considering Casterly Vineyards and their reputation of producing the finest arbor gold wines in the world.
But the standard he had become, and none ever measured up. No, every man who tried to woo her had fallen painfully short of the Great Lion. She had never admitted her crush to anyone, not until a drunken night a moon's turn ago, where she told her sister, Arya, everything.
She had expected Arya to judge, or even to laugh at her, but Arya had merely raised a brow, shrugged and said, “Then go get him, dummy.”
Emboldened by Arya’s support, Sansa decided that she would hunt the Great Lion and she would fulfill the promise she had made to herself at the young age of ten and seven. The Great Lion was going to be the man to usher her into womanhood, and she was determined to make this dream a reality.
She felt her breath catch as Tywin removed his slacks and socks in an efficient movement, his long lean form suddenly looking more casual than she had ever seen him and the intimacy of the moment nearly choked her.
“My, my” Tywin’s voice rumbled as he approached the wine and poured them each a glass. “This bottle is older than you are, my dear.”
“Is it?” she feigned innocence. She knew damned well that was a thirty-thousand dollar bottle, one she had saved for this occasion, even when she never thought it would happen.
“Indeed” he set the bottle down and tugged his undershirt free, carelessly tossing it to the floor of the bathroom before he rid himself of his last article of clothing. Sansa took in every detail that she could, the golden hair-threaded with white atop his head, the golden hair across his lean torso, his long limbs and the weight of his cock and its base of blonde curls, a cock that already seemed anxious to meet her.
She raised her eyes to his, her cheeks flushed as she found his brow raised, clearly having caught her open inspection. His brow asked a hundred questions, the loudest of which was ‘well?’
“You’ll do” she raised a hand and beckoned him closer.
His long legs lowered him into the hot water, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved through the water, reminding her that his man was more of an apex predator than any she had met. He moved until he stood between her legs, looking down at her.
“I am here for the aforementioned surprise” he smirked and she laughed softly, crooking her index finger at him and he obeyed, lowering his frame until she should wrap her arms around him, pulling his lips to hers.
She sighed, unable to stop the sound from escaping as their lips met, the taste of peppermint and cigars filling her senses, his hands moving around her to her back, heated by the water around them.
His tongue parted her lips and suddenly all she could taste and smell was Tywin, the kiss demanding and overwhelming. She had never been kissed like this, by a man who knew exactly what it was that he wanted, and took it when it was offered.
Her fingers delved into his hair, holding the back of his neck and head as he shifted closer, their bodies colliding beneath the water and she could feel every but of him. She did not want him to go, and wrapped her legs around him to prevent his retreat.
Tywin, however, seemed more than satisfied with this, his soft groan vibrating against her mouth as they kissed.
It was unhurried, deep and languid, neither of them in a rush to venture into the chaos of a Friday night in King’s Landing. Here, in the luxury of what was beyond a doubt the nicest bathroom she had ever been in, they could explore each other and learn far more than they had dreamed of.
Here, she held to the solid frame of the man she had longed for, had lusted for and she would at last have him.
She felt one of his hands slip from her back to cup her buttocks, holding her against his frame as he rocked his hips. She anchored herself to him as the shaft of his cock slid along her folds, pulling a moan from her mouth that had his lips curving into a smile.
“Such a lovely sound, don’t stifle it” he pulled his lips from hers to say, though she could feel his breath across her mouth as he spoke.
“Ty” she gasped as he repeated the action, the blunt head of his cock teasing her before sliding away.
“Mmhmm?” his deep murmur rumbled through her and she almost gasped aloud. She knew, if not for the water surrounding them, that she would be embarrassingly soaked, so she was glad that the bathtub concealed her desperation for him.
Tywin’s hand travelled across her thigh to her core, his fingers stroking her folds, her choked cry of pleasure echoing in the bathroom.
“Oh Gods” she did her best to breathe, holding to his neck and shoulders. He turned back to claim her lips as he found her clit, stroking across the bundle of nerves with a strong finger.
Sansa could hardly think, could scarcely believe that she was in Tywin’s arms and her body was beyond her control. Her entire adult life, she had heard people talk--snicker about the pleasures of the flesh, of making love to someone. But she had never, until this moment, believed them when they talked of losing their minds with pleasure.
The Great Lion not only took command of the world at large, but of her body as well. She cried out, loudly, arching against him as she rode her crest, her blood singing in her veins. Sin and pleasure, the likes of which she had never felt before, coursed through her, robbing her of breath.
“You, my dear” his deep voice began as his fingers slowed. “Are a woman unaccustomed to pleasure” he kissed her softly.
“No” she whispered as she tried to catch her breath. “No…”
“Even better” he purred as he sank a long finger into her channel.
“Oh—Gods” she cried out, her eyes snapping to his, their gazes locked as he pleasured her.
“That means, my dear, that you belong to me” he nibbled her lower lip. “And only me.”
“Ty” she sobbed as he fucked her with his finger, the water rippling around them as he moved.
“It's a shame” he murmured, “That this water hides the folds of your pussy, your flesh desperate to hold me inside of you. Soon, I will be able to admire them, to devour them--”
“Tywin—fuck” she sobbed.
“That’s my girl” he kissed her, deeply, parting her lips easily and his tongue delving into her mouth. Sansa cried out against his mouth as she came a second time, her body fluttering around his long finger, the warm water soothing her and helping her to ride her high.
She felt her body moving, being guided through the water and when she forced her eyes open it was to see Tywin settling his back against the tub and pulling her astride his lap. A twinge of nervousness shivered through her blood, but she watched him, his eyes the darkest shade of green she had ever seen. He wanted her--was desperate for her...
As she settled over the length of his cock, the flesh hard and insistent against her, she pulled back from their kiss, watching his face as the water lapped around them.
“Tywin…” she whispered.
“I know” he kissed her softly. “Go slow” his hands ran down her back to her hips, cupping over the bones and flesh to guide her as she aligned his cock with her opening and slowly slid onto him. The water, she belatedly realize, might not have been the best sort of lubricant, but she was still soaked enough to make his entry easier. His cock slipped inside of her, sliding through her barrier and stretching her to the point where she was gasping for breath.
She whimpered, closing her eyes, but Tywin’s deep voice was there to catch her, whispering words of encouragement as his hands slid up her back and held her close. She turned her face to his, her forehead pressed to his cheek as she calmed her breathing.
Moments passed and she held onto his shoulders, eventually relaxing her fingers and pulling back to look into his eyes.
“Some seducer I am” she said softly, biting her bottom lip.
“You, Sansa, are perfection” he cupped her face, smoothing a wayward curl away. “And now” his hands traveled her body. “You belong to me.”
“Do I?” she smirked, sighing as his hands cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers. She felt the heat of pleasure as it shot through her body to settle at the apex of her thighs.
“Absolutely” he growled, taking her lips in a brutal, possessive kiss as she rocked against him.
The pain had subsided, leaving behind an ache and the sensation of being overfilled. They moved together, lips locked and bodies entwined and the rich scent of lavender hanging in the air.
Tywin held her, teaching her the movement and rhythm that was foreign to her, his strong grip guiding her until she was able to spread her own wings. Until she was able to take her pleasure from his body.
“Ty” she sighed, holding to his neck and the short blonde hair there.He was watching her intently, his eyes sharp but filled with a glossy sort of lust that made him look younger than his own five and fifty years.
Her parents--were they still alive, would have a conniption fit if they learned that she had given herself to a man more than twice her age. But they were long gone, as were several of her siblings and she knew, that in this life, you had to take what you wanted with both hands and hold on tightly.
This was her doing just that.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she ground against him, filling herself completely with his cock until she felt like she was choking on him. She lived on his growls and soft moans, feeling each time his fingers dug into her hips, back and thighs. She had not expected it all to be so subtle, for the possession of The Great Lion to happen in small hints and increments.
She knew that she would never be able to go back to life before this. There would always be a delineation of her existence; before Tywin and after Tywin.
She all but screamed when a skilled thumb found her nub, stroking her in time with her movements, his hand teasing and bringing her body closer and closer to ecstacy. She rode him until her thighs burned, until her feet had gone numb from being pressed against the tub’s seat but she didn’t care, she was lost to Tywin’s body stretching her own.
“Fuck” she heard his soft curse as he bit the flesh of her neck and shoulder, leaving a bruising mark that she knew wouldn’t easily fade on skin as pale as hers. She found, however, that she did not mind.
Tywin trembled and shook against her, his body losing control and pouring into hers with heated jets. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to his strength, committing every detail to memory, never wanting to forget this moment.
She felt Tywin’s lips trail across her shoulder to her jaw and she turned to kiss him softly as the world returned around them. His hand burrowed into her hair, uncaring that the terry headband fell away, she leaned into his touch, kissing the heel of his thumb with a soft smile.
“Sansa Stark” he whispered, watching her closely.
“My Sansa Stark.”
“Am I?” she smirked, opening her eyes to watch him.
“I should think so” he laughed softly, the action shaking them both and she snuggled closer in the cooling water.
“Then you will be very happy to know I planned to stay for the weekend, that I snuck in groceries,” she smiled. “If all had gone well, I planned to cook.”
“Then who am I to interrupt such plans?” she felt rather than heard his soft laughter.
“We never even got to the wine” she pulled back to smile down at him.
“Why would I worry about wine, when I could have you?”
“Mmm” she kissed him softly. “Good boy.”
At that, Tywin laughed, the deep sound echoing in the bathroom and she couldn’t help but smile. This had all gone much better than she could have hoped for. She kissed the bridge of his nose, wishing that the water would stay warm forever, but the cold was creeping in and it was undeniable.
“Come” she smiled. “Let’s eat.”
Tywin watched her as she moved through the kitchen. Granted, she wasn’t the most familiar with its layout, but she seemed to be figuring things out as she went. Kitchens were all pretty similar, so she felt like she was doing okay.
It was hard, of course, taking a bit of sneaking to get her designer purse in here with all the groceries that she needed. Jaime, to his credit, didn’t seem to care much about what she carried, even if her hand was wrapped around the neck of a very expensive bottle of wine.
A bottle that she and Tywin were, at last, enjoying as she cooked.
Tywin was watching her, his eyes tracking her movements, even as she occasionally paused to steal a kiss. She wore his discarded dress shirt, her hair a tangled mess, but she had never felt more beautiful, more desired.
“Tell me” Tywin asked as she stirred the pot on the stove.
“Martell Wines” he prompted.
“Now, darling” she smirked, turning back to admire the Great Lion, even if he was clad in his slacks and nothing else. The man was devastating, there was no way around that. “You can hardly expect me to spill all my secrets.”
He chuckled, shaking his head before sipping his wine, “This is fantastic, by the way” he raised the golden glass. “Makes me wonder why Stark stopped making arbor golds.”
“Because” she smiled. “We had to give you Lannisters something to do.”
“Ha!” he laughed, setting his glass aside to pull her into his arms. “I loathe the day that we come up against each other.”
“My dearest Lion” she kissed his chin. “Didn’t we just come up against each other?”
“When that day comes, I am going to throw you across the table and take you” he promised. “I won’t care who’s watching us.”
“Promises, promises” she raised a brown in challenge before slipping from his arms and back to the stove. “Now behave, because if you do, I will also make dessert.”
Tywin couldn’t help but smile across the large bed at Sansa. She still wore only his shirt, her hair a bit of a mess and her lips swollen from their kisses. They had shared a bit of wine while she cooked them a meal more delicious than he’d had in a long time.
This woman--one he’d previously thought beautiful and commanding, was also soft and caring, her heart just as large as her brain was. And they were both substantial.
He had, admittedly, watched her for sometime. The fact that she had come to him was intoxicating and with her he felt younger--more powerful, than he had in decades. Especially since she had come to him untouched, her body kept pure until he could take her.
He had thought their conversation when she was just a young woman, was an aberration. But as he watched the news of her spread, the reality of the powerhouse of Sansa Stark--the woman, he had to relent that she was just that incredible.
Now, they were reclining on his large king-sized bed, her in his shirt and him in his slacks, laughing as they shared a piece of strawberry shortcake. Sansa would feed him a forkful of the fruit and whipped cream before leaning in to kiss him, tasting the sugar from his lips.
He realized, as he watched her, that he had to confess his own truth. His own plotting…It was better to get it out of the way now before things progressed. And they would progress. Now that he’d had her, he wasn’t going to let her escape.
“There is something you should know, darling” Tywin smirked, leaning down to kiss away a bit of whipped cream from the corner of her lip.
“Hmm?” she sighed, relaxing against his strength. Her entire body seemed to thrum with satisfaction, with pleasure and his touch only reminded her that it had been this man who made everything so wonderful. She felt his hand rise to the buttons of her shirt, easily working them free. She mewled as his hand delved inside, cupping her breast and teasing the hardened peak.
“I promised Jaime that he could have his dalliance with the Tarth wench” he whispered against the shell of her ear. “If he delivered you to me.”
“What?” she gasped, opening her eyes to look up at him.
“You’re not the only one who has been paying attention, Sansa” he kissed her neck, shifting her hair aside to rest his nose against the curve of her throat for a second before continuing. “I watched you at every party since that Christmas. I watched the willowy wide-eyed girl evolve into a beautiful woman who could command any boardroom. A woman who took control of Stark Cellars and turned a microscopic operation into a worldwide success within a year. I watched you, Sansa Stark, and decided that I should like you for my own.”
A hundred emotions ran through her. Surprise, of course. She had certainly not expected this. A bit of betrayal, he hadn’t spoken a word of this during their time together. But, she reasoned, he was telling her now. For that she was relieved. But mostly ...she watched him with a smile, mostly she was happy.
“It would seem that I have played right into the Great Lion’s jaws” she laughed softly.
“You’re well, and thoroughly, trapped” he kissed along her jaw.
“And what do you plan to do with me now, Ty?” she asked.
“Keep you, of course,” he said. “I did not become such a success without knowing a good opportunity when I see it.”
“And this is an opportunity, is it?”
“Absolutely” he kissed her softly. “The opportunity to do the impossible.”
“The impossible?” she gasped as he settled over her, between her legs.
“To make a Stark a Lannister” he claimed her lips with his and she wrapped her arms around him, melting against him as the unspoken promised surrounded her.
Tywin did not waste time, finding the channel that he had so intimately learned and filling it, sinking his cock into her until she was unsure where she ended and he began. Her back arched, parting their lips and she gasped at the intrusion. She was still a bit sore, muscles long unused had been put through the ringer, but the feeling of having him joined within her, was heaven.
“Beautiful” he whispered.
“Ty” she mewled as he rocked his hips.
“That is not the growl of a wolf” he whispered, his hands sliding into hers before pinning them over her head on the mattress. She heard the clink and then crash of the plate and forks, their dessert long forgotten. “No, that is the purr of a lioness” he took her lips once more, pulling her into a tide of lust that consumed them both.
A Few Years Later…
Tywin moved through the penthouse, the soft sound of humming pulling him through the empty hall towards the source.
He smiled, remembering a time, not so long ago, that he had followed the sound of humming and it had brought him immeasurable happiness. Now, however, he tossed his coat and tie aside, knowing exactly what awaited him at the other end of the siren’s call.
He slowed his approach, observing from the hall as Sansa hummed and softly sang to the small bundle in her arms. She was, beyond a doubt, the most infuriating woman he had ever met. But, she was also his beautiful, loving Sansa, and he couldn’t imagine her being anything other than what she was.
And she was his.
She wore a simple summer dress, her hair wild and free, smiling down at the baby in her arms. She rested her lips against the babe’s head, the soft golden-fire hair resting against her. Not quite Lannister blonde, but not quite Tully red; the perfect mixture of both.
His eyes moved to the ring on her left hand and he smiled. He had placed that ring there less than a year after he had come home to find her in his bath. Jaime--even Cersei, had protested but he wasn’t about to let Sansa get away, not when he finally had her in his arms.
Under his and Sansa’s guidance, Casterly-Stark Cellars had become the leaders of the wine trade. With Stark specializing in their Northern Red and Casterly bringing the Arbor Gold, they were more than a force to be reckoned with. They were the dominating forces of both worlds. They were unstoppable.
This, of course, meant that he had gone through the arduous process of negotiating a merger with Sansa, who was the CEO of Stark Cellars. They were already engaged at the time, her fiery temper urging on every primal instinct in his body as they argued and bargained their way to combining both of the huge companies.
In the boardroom, with their lawyers present, they had settled terms. They would hold leadership of their respectable brands and work towards a common goal; domination. But in their bedroom, locked away from the world, Sansa had made him promise her a baby. She wanted nothing in this world as much as she wanted their baby. A child of their own, son or daughter, she did not care. She wanted a child and he could not refuse her.
In truth, he wanted it as badly as she had.
It had only taken him a year to fulfill her terms, and here she stood, holding Gerold, her ‘Ger-Bear’ and his third son. A strong Stark-Lannister that would take over the world in a few years.
Sansa turned then, her song pausing as she looked up at him, her smile stretching across full lips and Tully blue eyes shining in the afternoon light.
“There’s Daddy” she whispered, rocking the dozing bundle back and forth. Tywin moved into the nursery, kissing her forehead as he placed a hand at his son’s back. “Welcome home, Daddy” Sansa smiled.
“Wife” he kissed her softly.
“I thought” she smirked. “That we might indulge in a bath, once Ger is asleep.”
“Well, now” he smirked, leaning down to kiss her softly. “I think that is a wonderful idea.”
“Does this mean you remember our anniversary?” she whispered, her Tully blue eyes unsure as she looked up at him.
“Just over three years ago I came home to you in the bath. That day changed my life forever” he said softly, tilting her eyes up to his with his thumb at her jaw. “Two years ago today, I made you my bride, Sansa Lannister. And today, on our anniversary, our son is here to celebrate with us.”
“However, as he is currently asleep, believe that we should take advantage of such” he smirked.
“Well” she went on tiptoe to kiss him. “If you run the bath, I can join you shortly.”
“Now that is a deal I cannot refuse” he replied, kissing Gerold’s hair briefly before looking back at his wife.
“I love you” she whispered.
“I love you” he replied.
“Good” she motioned to the door. “Now go. I will tuck this munchkin in and be right there.”
“Of course” he nodded in agreement, watching as his wife carried their son to the crib and laid his small form atop the blankets. He watched until she started humming once more, pulling the small blankets over him and then he turned away.
Striding to the master bedroom, he got to work, determined to make their anniversary as special as it could be before they collapsed into the exhaustion of new parents. Producing a bottle of Stark arbor gold he had strong-armed from Sansa’s younger sister, Arya, he carried it to the table beside the tub.
Tonight, he decided, was going to be perfect.
Sansa deserved nothing less.