My very first Game Of Thrones one shot made for mature entertainment so a bit of fair warning in case the Rated M logo got ignored or bypassed by accident. Another slight author note this story takes place in basically my own little rendition of "Storm Of Swords" which I have NOT read.
My information is based solely off the HBO television series and the vast amount of information I came across on the internet mainly wikipedia.
So if I'm slightly off point or misled my apologies, now on with the story enjoy!
How Sansa loved the vast seemingly endless space of the Eyrie cloudless gray sky touching only the snow-covered mountain peeks miles again everything seemed so much more colossal since fleeing Kings Landing where her only amount of free space had been the four walls she constantly found herself confined too. Since being set aside as the late kings Joffery's bride she had basically been discarded by the Lannister's all but Tyrion who she had been forced to marry.
Sansa shook her auburn hair in the cold breeze of her towering balcony that was a trail of memories she didn't care to revisit. Turning from the amazing scenery her room provided her blue eyes shifted to the greenery still faithfully clinging to the stone railing she rested her soft hands against.
Small lily like flowers nestled in the vines faintly blooming even though the first snow fall of winter had been days ago. Softly her hands brushed against the soft pedals it seemed the trail of forged memories she tried to block out were beginning to part open once again as she recalled the vast gardens of Kings Landing, one if not the only thing she missed about the capital.
Though she couldn't fully remember enjoying herself amongst the sweet smelling perfumed filled air with heavily armored guards shadowing her every step. One in particular noticeably more closer than the rest, faithful as the beast he was called after.
Sansa felt her azure eyes darken at the thought of Sandor Clegane towering over her with those cold eyes. Colder even than the snow that covered her newly iced over home.
Though it had not always been so, the night he had entered her chambers when he fled the battle of Blackwater Bay. Oh yes it had been different then. The night he pinned her beneath him on the comfort of her own bed and forced her to sing to him.
Hazy as the memory was she could recall faintly the way his dark eyes had glowed down at her filled with the reflection of the jade wildfire filled sky. His heavy breath thick with the sweet smell of wine. His body tense and salted with the musk of battle he had managed to survive. It wasn't an easy encounter to forget it had been the first time in her young life she had been so physically close to a man.
But those days had longed passed, of course she was still an unsullied virgin as she was obligated to remain until her true wedding night, but she had learned many moons ago how to please her now matured body without penetrating her sacred barrier.
She had her brief encounters with her not so proper hand maidens to thank for that welcomed lesson.
Then a fresh gust of cold mountain air swept over her sinking attentively into her now noticeably heated silken cloths. That made it apparently clear she should retreat back into the clarity of her room and into her bed.
The once hazy memories of Sandor becoming more inescapably clear with every passing moment making an all to familiar churn in her groin build uncomfortably the faster she approached her large she grabbed at the thick balcony curtains pinning them together shutting out the invading cold before turning towards the welcoming sight of her fur and silk laced bed.
Like so many times before Sansa slowly began to slide out of her thickly laced gown tugging a few strategically placed laced pins and threads before she stood almost completely naked. Only her tight corset left in place along with her stockings, she hadn't seen the need to remove them she would be slipping back into her dress momentarily.
It had never taken her long to reach the heated peeks of her climax, years of practice had made it all but routine ritual. The silken covers were noticeably cool against her soft pale skin as she burrowed herself deep within them.
She could feel her auburn hair fan neatly over her heavily stuffed pillows due to the vast amount of pins locked in place in her combed locks. Once nestled comfortably into the silks and furs she felt the soft digits of her fingertips begin to sway tantalizingly over the exposed valley of her cleavage.
Her nipples were unfortunately hidden underneath the thick cloths of her corset but she could achieve her goal without caressing them, this time. Sansa's heated mind began to swirl with the imaginative phantoms it always had during this sensual time.
Countless unknown faces of handsome knights or lords she imagined touching her, replacing her soft hands with their calloused touch their muscular frames pinned heavily on top of her instead of the piles of linen.
Sansa bit her peal teeth into her lower lip tugging it hard between lashes of her tongue imaging an unknown figure ravaging her mouth the way she desired. Her hands beginning to travel further south to her already parted thighs as she struggled to place a face on her imaginative seducer.
Countless features flashed before her bleary gaze but none stayed long enough to form a solid build. Then a seemingly half formed face lingering across her vision, a half formed face crossed with heavily molted scars. Dark cold eyes leering down at her hungrily planted above a sinister grin.
"Sandor" The words escaped Sansa's now panting lips before she could stop them. They sounded so wrong in her hazed mind but so right slipping passed her tongue.
Sansa tried to command her body to stop shocked by the vivid image looming her subconscious but it acted of its own accord wanting its building release more than she first realized. Most woman like her fantasized about handsome knights bedding them not almost frightful foot soldiers like the hound.
She had been terrified the first time she had seen his face clearly like most others but over the course of time in Kings Landing she had grown accustom to his looks to the point where they barely even fazed her.
But never had she imagined herself being fantasy fucked by the ruthless beast known as the hound. Of course he was the only real experience of a mans touch she had to draw on, that thought edged her on to continue.
Sansa closed her heavy eyes imagining that Sandor was now in her room, her locked cold room all alone with only her as his visible source of warmth. Briefly she wondered what would the hound think of her current state? Touching herself sexually to his memory? He would probably act nothing like she was currently envisioning.
Submerging herself back into her fantasy she could see Sandor's dark eyes raw with a growing lust blazing down at her. Sansa circled her soft fingers around her naval applying just enough pressure to the growing burn underneath her creamy skin.
Let the full force of her fantasy begin.
Sandor's eyes never left hers as he feverishly tore away the thick material of his torso clothing tugging the now shredded material over his towering head.
His leather pants were next his large fingers pulling the restrains of his waist until they fell to the floor pooling around his bare ankles.
His body was hard, rippling with large almost giant like muscles his tanned skin marked with countless heavy battle scars gouging across his chest and arms.
His erect member was already visibly throbbing with want desperate to invade the virgin creature laid out so heatedly before him. Sansa had seen few naked men in her life but she imaged Sandor's flawless length clearly without hesitation.
No doubt large like every other aspect of his statues form the intimidating thought made Sansa's thighs quiver with anticipation. He moved closer to her the inhumanly large shadow of his form shading her almost naked body leaving her unable to look away even as he sunk down onto the bed crawling over her vastly smaller form.
He didn't speak, his had no need to, his blazing eyes told her everything she needed to know with their lingering burn. He lowered his lips down onto hers hungrily, the kiss surprisingly soft unlike before back when the black water was on fire.
Then soon his tongue was massaging hers, his teeth pinching her lip between them making her dizzy with the heat now radiating between them. He was like liquid fire forcing her to drink him in like the richest of alcohols making her drunk on him until all she could do was gasp his name into the dark void of her room.
Then his heavily calloused hands went to her clothed breast massaging them roughly even through the thick fabric of her corset. Sansa cried out against him feeling the sensitive bud of her nipples being tugged aggressively even with their clothed barriers.
Sandor laughed darkly finally releasing her now swollen lips from his hard touch before trailing a hot line of kisses down her smooth neck his rough hands continuing to squeeze and pluck the exposed plains of her soft flesh. All to soon Sansa was panting, moaning, arching into his touch her soft voice turning hard with demands for more.
Sandor encouraged her bluntness whispering against the column of her neck his hot breath making her shudder beneath him. Sansa moaned into the stone room her hands fluttering widely over her hot skin, her eyes shut tight seeing only Sandor.
Only his broad body leering over her hungrily.
"Please" She begged unashamed to the known phantom of her imaginative creation.
Sandor was known for his ruthlessness it was no far stretch to think of him being to same way in the depths of the bedroom. It was a taunting idea that made her crave more. He pushed higher up on his pinned hands by either side of her auburn hair his dark eyes fixed down on her almost wickedly.
"Little bird" He rasped down at her the haunting sound of his voice filling her with its lasting vibration.
That name could not have fit her more perfectly from the time they knew each other, she had been a bird, a helpless bird locked away in an iron cage ravaged by a cruel owner who enjoyed plucking out her soft feathers one by one.
He alone had been the one almost kind soul she had known while in her imprisonment. Sansa was in no mood to continue to further torture herself this fantasy was of her creation and she would have what she craved now more than ever.
Rather than beg him verbally she grabbed at the thick knuckles oh his calloused hand shoving his hot palm over her throbbing sex. Sandor raised his one visible brow at her bold decision it was clear she would beg no more instead she would command him like the hound he was.
Her thoughts of how Sandor would truly react to her demands frighten her but at the same time exhilarated her. Her lingering question blazed away with his fiery touch as he ran his thumb gently over her moist slit.
Pleasure pulsated through her as if being flooded by the liquid fire that he was, her back bowed her lips parted with a sob of pleasure and her small hand fisted widely into the sheets. Sandor smirked at her response as he repeated the action each time applying more pressure once glazing over her clit.
"Hush little bird" His voice so dark and smooth like the finest of wines.
He fixed her with his hungry mismatched gaze the badly burned side of his face becoming visible for the first time. Such a mark would send most woman screaming in terror but no, even in her fantasy Sansa laid firm only admiring his different appearance with a lustful stare.
Shattering that thought she felt him rise up and down his fingers sliding over sex more roughly making squirm in anticipation. The sheets beneath her pulsing sex were now soaked her arousal to great to be contained further.
Sandor pressed his thumb to the swollen pearl that marked her opening. Sansa sobbed his name her hips bucking into his touch as he ground his thumb into a tortuous circle, she could see him watching her whither with a dark satisfaction as she moaned his name endlessly. Sansa dry breath hitched in her throat as her fingers rubbed her clit, she was open widely in the hidden depths of her thin creamy legs spread far apart in preparation for what she drove for next.
Sansa could no longer deny herself she needed this she needed to be filled needed him inside her. Without delay she eased two fingers into her dripping sex gasping at the delicious feeling. Careful not to drive to deeply preserving her virginity in perfect condition but far enough to moan loudly in approval.
Her mind once again clouding with the thought that it was Sandor's bristled fingers now buried inside her. Sansa could feel his length pressing into the soft flesh of her thighs rising higher and higher until it pushed against her wet lips.
It was so big so soft and smooth like perfect steal wrapped in velvet she stroked it softly watching as his hair lined jaw clenched in building pleasure his hips shifting more aggressively against her. She braced one hand on his haired chest as the other positioned the head against her dripping entrance teasing him by rubbing the head against her slit.
"Sansa" She heard him moan, seven hells how her name sounded in his rasping tone.
He groaned loudly letting the blunt head begin to descend inside her. He was thicker than she first realized she gasped at the almost indescribable feeling of his length stretching her feminine walls.
His rough hands fell to her hips his hard fingers digging into her soft flesh desperately she was sure she would bruise but if felt so damn good.
At last he was fully inside her she had never felt so full so absolutely complete. His hand slid down her arm to her hand tugging her forward into a wet kiss his wine tasting tongue dominating hers mercilessly.
His hands cupped her naked rear massaging the fleshy globes hard forcing her to grind more feverishly against him. A rasp like growl escaping his throat sounding like the hound in which he was named.
Dark raged breaths erupted between them as he quickened in a faster more brutal pace. His hard hips slamming into her over and over her bound breast bouncing between them even through her tight corset.
The air was a heated cloud of musk and animal like scents between the two of them. Sansa could feel her sex tense up and squeeze his length inside more uncontrollable than before as if trying to force an orgasm from him.
Sandor grabbed at her fiery wave like hair balling it tight between his fist making her cry in both pain and instant sensation.
His hips never stopping their sensual grind his fisted knuckles white with strain his control fading the longer they fucked. She heard him curse under his breath knowing he was fast approaching his own release begging her to join him before he gave in.
Her response was lost in a high jolting scream of pleasure the air flushing from her lungs as Sandor pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger.
"S-Sandor" She panted darkly her voice so clouded with lust and craving it sounded strange to her own ears. She was so dangerously close her abdomen burning raging with an uncountable fire just one final push and she would reach that sweet oblivion.
Then with one brutal thrust he stabbed her sweetest spot releasing the raging inferno in her belly. Hidden flames consuming her from under the skin scaring her beyond mental repair swallowing her alive in the blazing heat burning away his memory leaving her once again alone.
She helplessly surrender to it unable to fight the blunt approach of reality. Her womanhood contracted violently around her fingers as the wet essence of her climax trickled down her already soaked digits.
Moments ticked buy like endless hours before she finally retracted her hand from her now swollen sex. Her azure eyes bleary with tears from the stress of her release but something else, an unfamiliar feeling of longing.
Sandor had been nothing more than a means to end a memory fit for the event of satisfying her nothing more but now that she was back from her dazed fantasy.
She actually longed for him, in reality.
Sansa sat up in her empty bed tossing the heavy furs and silk aside so she could stand on the cold stone of her chamber's floor. She wrote her conflicting feelings off as approaching hormones, she had yet to bleed this month no doubt it was fast approaching to make her feel to vulnerable to a distant memory.
Skillfully she scooped up her bundled dress before sliding herself back into the thick fabric the stickiness of her thighs alerting her to the need to bathe before approaching anyone. A nice hot bath sounded pleasing at this time, a place to wash away her satisfied arousal and her conflicting memories.
Breaking her thoughts she heard a soft knock on her chamber door making her tuck herself back into her dress much faster.
Once presentable she walked over to the heavy wood of her chamber entrance before pulling back the heavy lock. She was greeted by the handsome face of Ser Staford one of the loyal knights of the Eyrie a fine man loyal and respectful a rare trait among her new home.
"Beg pardon M'Lday but the council has requested your presence in the main chamber" He bowed respectfully careful to remain on the other side of her bedroom threshold.
Sansa fought a blush from claiming her heated cheeks knowing Ser Staford could not have picked a worst time to summon her to court. Though the realization that this must have been important for him to come before her personally replaced her modesty with worry.
"Why? What has happened?" She asked fearful to the possibilities.
"A fugitive M'lady, captured fleeing north" Ser Staford replied sharply doing his best to reassure her clearly alarmed question.
Sansa sighed noticeably relived being present when a fugitive or rebel was captured in the Eryie was a rare occasion seeing as few other than Noble born dared to venture here. Still her presence was always required at all small council seeing as she was a high born. Though she wouldn't dare allow herself to be seen in her current just climaxed state, she would have to wash before hand.
"I'll be there shortly" Sansa said softly knowing the staying of an execution wasn't the going to be the highlight of evening she was in now hurry.
Ser Staford bowed respectively before turning back towards the empty hall of the castle maze preparing for his departure back to the main chambers.
"Ser" Sansa called after him unsure of her reasoning but her curiosity was surprisingly piqued by the news she had just received.
"My lady?" He paused turning back to face her.
"Who is it? The prisoner?" Sansa asked driven by an unknown need to know who had been brought before her home.
"Sandor Clegane, the hound" He bowed once more before departing having no idea how heavily the words he had just left floating in the air weighed.
Sansa watched the wooden door closed before her leaving her isolated and alone once more in the cold stone of her room.
With it the air slipped from her lungs leaving her unable to speak in pure concentrated, shock.
Well what did you think? Again just a one-shot I really don't have any plans to continue I just thought this would be a nice little treat for my fellow Sansa/Sandor lovers :D Also I believe Sansa to be of age when this story takes place so please don't believe I indulge pedophilia or anything like that so again thank you for reading and I sincerely hoped you enjoyed!