medicalling | Open Post

That touch to the tip had him shifting his hips a bit in response, an unbidden movement to just how good it felt. Looking up at her and that gaze she was giving him, he felt his heart start to race. Then that demand- Fates, how could he deny her?

He sat up without his hands, abdomen flexing as he sat up to tip his chin up, sink a hand into the riot of her hair and drag her into a kiss. He could do this for hours. Days. Spend the rest of his life catering to her needs.

Sansa kisses him deeply and moves her hand, stroking slowly along the length of him. She looks up, cheeks flushed, and gives him a little smile.

"There is something else I know how to do," she murmurs, hand still stroking him. "Will you let me?"

His other hand is at her back, holding her, smoothing up along her body as he feels that blaze of pleasure. He's lost in the taste of her for a moment before she speaks, and it takes him a moment to recognize the word pattern as a question. "I am yours. Entirely."

The mystery of what she knew, what she might do was running in circles in his brain.

Sansa has never done this before willingly but she knows how to do it and well enough to bring a man to completion so she wants to do so for Rowan because she cares about him and wants to make him happy. She slides down and takes him into her mouth, tongue pressed against the head of his cock.

Her hair is a mess all over his lap, red rivulets, and her mouth is soft as she takes him in.

Somehow, he hadn't expected that. The firm warmth of her hand was replaced with the silken wet of her mouth and he grabbed the sheet to twist it in his grip as he let out a sound of pure surprised, greedy pleasure.

He can't lay down, even if he wants to, because her hair is all over him and he just wants to touch it. Touch her. Try not to rock upward further as he feels uncertain as to where to put his hands and what to do. Pleasure is crashing through his brain and making him incredibly slow to think in the moment. "Sansa, sweet Christ. Oh, love."

Sansa thinks that is a good sign that she is in fact good at this even though she might have learned in a way that was...not so good. She relaxes her throat and takes him in deeper, sucking as she goes. She does not know exactly what Rowan likes but she wants to find out.

She needs to find out.

She cups his hips in her hands and guides him up to her mouth, encouraging him to take his pleasure from her.

He won't last. He can't. She's sweet and yet there's something there that speaks of practice, and he shoves that thought violently aside. Ramsay has no room here in their bedroom, not between them. This is his and hers alone. His hand is in her hair, touching because he can't not, and he lets out a ragged sound that's half caught in his throat. "Heart of mine, I can't... I'm not going to last. You should move," he cautioned, feeling his toes curl and his thighs tense up as the pleasure started to build.

Sansa doesn't want to move if he's close and she reluctantly pulls her mouth away, looking up at him with soft eyes. Her mouth is swollen from kissing him and sucking his cock and she touches his face lightly.

"Why should I stop?"

A soft laugh, and he cups her face, bringing his mouth down to hers to kiss her before he answers. "Because I'm about to spill over into your mouth and that's... sometimes an acquired taste. I can spill onto myself and clean up."

"I don't mind it," Sansa assures him. "You should do whatever brings you the most pleasure. That is what I would like to give you."

Sansa wraps her hand back around his length and pumps him quickly, trying to get him to finish on her.

He was already on the cusp, and her hand around him was like an electric shock of pleasure. His eyes rolled back and he reached for her, holding the back of her neck as he rested his lips against hers. "Sansa..." His voice was strained, barely able to get out her name before he felt his hips buck upward. His cock throbbed in her grip, his orgasm causing that thick white liquid to spill out over her hand, over his thigh and stomach. "Sweet Fates," he groaned, kissing her hungrily as he had to remind himself not to just roll her over and mount her like he wanted to.

"I will always be yours," Sansa says. "Even if I am not completely yours yet." Sansa doesn't know if she can take him right now but she wants to. She wants to consummate their bond and give Rowan what he wants so desperately but she doesn't want to do it until she's sure she won't be afraid. This is already a big step.

"I cannot express to you how much I care for you."

"You express it enough. In your touch. Your trust," he said, voice light as he brushed her hair back to look in her eyes. "I adore you. And that will only get stronger with each day. Let me clean myself and I'll come join you back here. You need more sleep, and then we'll discuss things in the light of day, aye?"

"All right," Sansa says softly. "Just know that you needn't worry about me swallowing. I am perfectly capable of doing so. Unless you prefer it that way?"

Sansa only wants to do what feels good for both of them, after all, and does not wish to displease him while chasing her own pleasure.

He laughed, kissing her again and then slowly disentangling himself. His pants were still on, though tugged down, and he held them away from himself as he went over to the bathroom. He talked to her as he cleaned himself. "I will always worry about you. I want you to find what pleases you. What you enjoy. Not what you feel you're expected to. You've had quite enough of that, thank you."

"Perhaps what I want to do is please you," Sansa says smugly. She watches as he walks to the bathroom and admires his form, just the shape of him, and watches him walk back to the bed.

"Come sleep in my arms," she says, inviting him into the bed.

"Then we'd be caught in a vicious loop, one of me pleasing you, and you pleasing me. The world would spin to the end of days." He washed the rest of himself, then his hands, then came back to bed with a quick step. He all but dove in, taking her down with him as he moved to pull the covers up to cover her, somehow managing to fit them around so they were as they'd started- barring her new nudity.

"We should consummate soon," Sansa murmurs. "For I want to be with you for the rest of my days. I do not feel as if I should put it off even though I know you are worried about my mind and how I feel."

Sansa nuzzles against his neck. "I trust you."

"Tomorrow, if you're still insistent. We'll take the day to shop for things you need, I'll discuss things with my work for a few more days off, and if you'd like, I can take you on a proper date here. It's... courting couples often go out to establishments to eat food as part of the courtship. We can talk, eat, not mind any messes, and then we can come home."

"I would like to do these things with you," Sansa says, slipping a leg between his as she curls up on his chest. It feels good to hold him and be held and she wants this every night for the rest of her life.

"Tell me how it will feel?"

"That, I can't do. I'm not female, love. I wouldn't know how it feels. But I'm hoping that I can make it pleasant for you. Something you'll enjoy. And that you'll promise to tell me if you dislike anything."

"I know, I just thought you might know better how it feels when it is wanted," Sansa says, touching his face softly. "I thought you could give me an idea of it because you have always taken pleasure."

"I know how it feels for me, and aside from that, I'm not... thrilled at the notion of talking about ex lovers with you or what I did with them." Not that he'd be able to not show it, but he had a feeling, based on his reactions to her so far, that their mating was going to be much more intense for him than his moments of intimacies with past lovers.

Things he didn't want to bring up to her, since aside from it being gauche and classless, he didn't want to hurt her or make her feel worse about her past situation than she did.

Sansa looks down then, embarrassed, and pulls her hand away. "I'm quite sorry. I did not think of what that might mean to ask you such a thing. I simply have very little knowledge about this subject."

She has no one to ask other than him because the only thing she does know is that her experience is not one to endure by anyone.

Frowning, he reaches for her hand, pulling it back to his face and pressing it there as he turns to kiss her palm. "I know, love. I'm not balking at telling you because I think you lacking in any way. I merely don't want to presume your feelings. Your thoughts. There is nothing wrong with what you're doing, with how you've done it. All wrongs are cast on the other side. You, my sweetness, have come out of that nightmare still glowing."

He reached over and slid her hair behind her ear, looking at her with utter adoration. "I will happily tell you anything you wish to know. I'm rather good at it, if only from my profession. But I can tell you the clinical aspect. I can't, and won't, tell you how you should feel. You'll feel how you feel. Good or bad. And we will deal with both aspects."

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