Tyrion had started making plans immediately for their departure and Sansa couldn't be happier. The maids had rushed around collecting their clothing, Tyrion's books, Sansa's jewelry and the many other comforts they kept around their chambers, carefully packing each piece against the impeding rough ride to Lannisport. She felt useless as Tyrion would not allow her to lift a finger, instead putting his leadership skills to good use by regimenting the organization of the scores of servants at their disposal. Although the plan was to make a quick getaway, the trunks were piling up, higher and higher as the horsemen failed to keep up with the frantic packing of the maids. They would make an excessive procession as they journeyed across the Westeros landscape, red banners a blazing, cutting a crimson scar across the scenery.

The spirit of the staff as well as the wedded couple was perceptibly elevated by the imminent journey. The aim to a speedy departure was to catch Joffrey and Cersei unawares and lessen their interference in the matter. Whilst Tyrion was certain that Cersei would be pleased at his removal from her presence, he was worried about Joffrey's wrath when he discovered that Sansa was to be distanced from his clutches. Tyrion had advised her that they would be setting off at first light in the morning and anything that they didn't have with them would be ordered in advance of their arrival at Casterly Rock. She was still getting used to the constant extravagances of the Lannisters', it was so contrary to her frugal upbringing in Winterfell, that she felt wasteful a lot of the time in Tyrion's presence.

The thought of the notorious rock was lurking at the back of Sansa's mind. She pictured it as gloomy and desolate, an eerie outlook on a dead cliff, surrounded only by grey, bleak land and the black roaring ocean. She hoped that with her and Tyrion's presence it would become more of a home than Kings Landing had ever been, after all, who knew how long it would take for her to produce a male heir to guarantee the return to her true home.

She found it hard to picture their children in her mind, she had never thought that she might be a mother at such a young age. When she tried to think of a future with Tyrion's offspring she could not get past the thought that she would come to the same fate as his mother, dying in the agony of childbirth. She worried that if she were to carry a dwarf, her body would lose the fight of bringing the babe into life. But in moments of higher spirits, she believed that should she have the chance to be surrounded by little Wolves, any place would be happy.

To think that she would be outside of Joffrey's reach made Sansa's heart thump with excitement, anywhere would seem heavenly by comparison to her current surrounds. She hoped that once she was away from this diabolical place, her constant dualistic emotions would settle and she could start to get her head straight.


The chaos of the preparation had died away and they were finally left on their own to get as much sleep as possible before their trip. The commotion was still going on outside but with Bronn guarding the door, Tyrion was determined to shut the rest of the world out. Tyrion was keen to pick up from Sansa's passionate kiss earlier but was unsure if his little wolf was only temporarily spirited by the news of their retreat and would resume her timid submission to his touches.

Looking around, the room was empty save for the bed. His massive wooden writing desk had been removed, his much worn, much loved leather reading chair was by now strapped to the back of a carriage. But looking to their crib, the thing that Tyrion's heart loved most in the world lay waiting in their bed.

Closing the door behind him, Tyrion released a heavy sigh and proceeded to undress. He had pulled his thick leather boots from his feet when Sansa called his name. Looking up, Tyrion saw Sansa, removed from the covers, sat back with her bum on her heels, looking expectantly at him. He raised an eyebrow quizzically but walked casually over to the bed. As Tyrion took the final steps to perch on the mattress in front on Sansa, she slipped her nightclothes over her head, and settled back down into her previous stance. Her skin shimmered in the light, a rosy flush rising over her breasts, neck and face, Tyrion could just detect the nervous quiver of her hands as she placed them in a show of calmness on either side of her. Tyrion allowed his eyes to rove slowly over her body, starting at the slender line of her elegant neck, down to the prominent ridge of her collarbones, glowing almost white in the depleting light. Her pert breasts, tipped with their pink buds still soft in the warmth of the summer air, the delicate ribs beneath leading down to her tiny waist before the expanse of her womanly hips. Her thatch of hair was all but hidden from him in her current seated position but Tyrion's eyes lingered here the longest, devouring the secret sight that only he had been privy to. When he raised his eyes back up to his wife's face, her mouth played with a small smirk at the look of astonished appreciation on his face, she appeared to like the hungry look he was giving her.

Unexpectedly, Sansa leant towards him, taking his face in her hands in an exact mirror of their kiss earlier in the day. She was eager and forceful in her embrace, moving her hands to tangle into his curly hair. Tyrion was elated that the passion from earlier had not diminished and parted his lips to Sansa's ministrations. Her breath was hot and sweet as it encapsulated him. She continued to crush her lips into his and when Tyrion slid his tongue past her slick teeth, to meet hers, she responded cautiously, attempting to echo his movements with her own. Tyrion caught Sansa's bottom lip between his teeth, biting down with just enough pressure to make Sansa admit a squeal of surprise, she pulled away slightly from his proximity. Using the break in the kissing to further her seduction, Sansa moved her hands down Tyrion's chest, taking either side of his shirt, she pulled it swiftly over his head. Tyrion was further amazed by his little Wolf as Sansa leant forward kissing his chest as her hands roved down his stomach to rest on the lip of his trousers. Sansa fumbled on the leather strings holding his trousers together, he had nothing beneath his breeches. Tyrion was achingly hard, straining for release, a small dark droplet seeping through the material as his eager cock leaked at the anticipation. Every bit of him was desperate for her touch, the nervous determination he saw in her eyes as she lifted her face upwards as the material was finally pulled apart, only increased the tingling he felt further. Tyrion shimmied back on the bed to release himself of his breeches before crouching before Sansa again, impatient for her advances to continue.


Sansa's previous nerves were subsiding. The thrumming sensation building in her bud was overpowering any anxieties she had. All she wanted was to touch her husband, feel him, please him, make his body sing the way hers did at his touch.

With Tyrion naked in front of her, Sansa inclined towards him and placed her lips on his. Her lips pressing more gently this time, she kissed the corners of his smile and gently pushed her tongue into his mouth. Placing the palm of her hand onto his belly, she traced her fingers through the light hair, noting the firmness of muscle beneath his soft skin. She could feel how clammy her hand was as she smoothly lowered it down his torso. Skimming over the covering of course hair, Tyrion's breath hitched loudly as Sansa wrapped her fingers around his length. He was firm and hand to her touch. Sansa lowered her eyes to look at what she was doing, her pale fingers in stark contrast do the deep red of Tyrion's manhood. She pulled her hand further along his length and over the purple tip, glistening with moisture. Tyrion's groan as she touch the sensitive head, encouraged Sansa repeated the action, drawing her thumb over the leaking tip, spreading the fluid over the end, causing Tyrion's cock to bounce against her hand. Sansa wrapped her fist back around his shaft, hoping that the noises her husband was making were due to pleasure. Ever so slowly, with a tight grip, she tugged up and down his length, causing more low growls from Tyrion.

Tyrion placed his hand over Sansa's, with a gravelly voice Tyrion begged "Sansa…you…are going to kill me!"

Sansa looked up into his eyes, dark with an emotion she hadn't seen before, momentary confusion blurring her confidence, "Am I not pleasing you?"

"Sansa! Gods! If you continue…..pleasing me, I may explode…..your touch….I cannot hold back much longer if you carry on"

Sansa smiled, relieved. Cautiously, she lifted Tyrion's hand, unsure how to ask for what her body needed, she placed his hand onto her breast and kissed him. Taking this gesture as a switch in control, Sansa leant back, resting her hands on the bed, arching her body into Tyrion's touch. Tyrion's hand covered her breast, as he kissed along her jaw line, up onto her ear lobe, pressing delicate pecks into his sweet smelling skin. Tyrion inched closer to Sansa and with her still bowing towards him, pushed his knees apart, spreading her thighs to him.


Tyrion had never seen his wife look more beautiful, displayed in wanton desire before him. Her chest peaked for his touch, her thighs spread wide in front on him, her pink pussy, glistening within her red curls, begging for his touch. As Tyrion slid his hand along this gorgeous girls folds', he was astonished to find her wet with excitement. He had done nothing more than kiss her and yet, here she was, ready for him. Had the control she felt as she had explored his body, resulted in this kind of enthusiasm in her? His cock leaped when he pushed his thumb into her, her warm wet pussy surrounding him. With his free hand, he gently pulled back the hood of her clit, revealing the enlarged, red shoot to his delicate touch. Tyrion spread the dampness from his thumb over her clit, causing Sansa to call out and squirm against his hand. Carefully tickling her sensitive nub, Sansa was quickly reaching her peak. Tyrion leant down, his chest flat against the bed and pulled Sansa's hips towards his face, her womanly scent surrounding him, urging his cock to harden further beneath him. With her damp curls pressed against his nose, Tyrion sucked Sansa's clit between his lips, running his tongue over the taut skin. Sansa's moaning becoming louder as he continued the pressure, anyone in the hallway outside was bound to hear her frenzy.

Pulling himself up, Tyrion copied Sansa's position, sitting back on his heels, he pulled Sansa on top of him, her thighs straddled either side of his. He kissed her firmly on the mouth, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue. Holding himself around the base, Tyrion lowered Sansa's hips onto himself, guiding his cock into Sansa's slick folds.

Taking her hips in his hands, Tyrion directed his inexperienced wife's hips into a rhythm above him. When Tyrion let Sansa find her own pace, her movements were clumsy at first but finding that by tilting her hips towards him, she could achieve the much needed contact her body craved, she began rubbing her bud against him, his name started to tumble from her lips again.

Tyrion was concentrating all his will on holding back until Sansa had reached her peak. Trying to push the tightening feeling of his balls and the pulsing of his cock as her walls clenched around him, to the back of his mind. He needed to hold on, he could feel she was close but no! he couldn't think about that, couldn't look at her writhing in bliss on his lap! Sansa ground her clit against Tyrion and her body began to shake, she called out his name and dug her nails into his shoulders and she came hard around him. The tight clamping against his cock, caused Tyrion to lose control. He managed three, fast, uncontrolled thrusts into her quivering body, before he felt his hot spunk pumping from him. He roared loudly, holding tight to her body, stilled inside her as he felt his cock softening inside her.

They remained, connected until Tyrion's legs started cramping, shivering as their sweat cooled against their blushed skin. Sansa had never felt closer to her husband, looking into his sated eyes, she only saw his overflowing love for her.