medicalling | Open Post

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."

"I just want to be a good mate," Sansa says, calming a bit when he kisses her palm and tucks her hair behind her ear. She has never had someone look at her the way Rowan does. She feels as if she's the sun itself when he looks at her and it's a good feeling to have.

"I want to love and be loved."

"In time, Sansa. We've only just met. We may be tied together by fate, but that doesn't mean that everything has to happen all at once. There is no one else for me but you. You'll be staying here with me, unless you feel you don't want to. I want you to feel as if you can speak your mind, voice your wants. There will never be a hand lifted to you in anger from me."

"I will never lift my hand in anger to you either," Sansa says, leaning in to kiss him softly. She has never felt this way about anyone or anything before and she cannot get enough of it.

"We will always be respectful. It makes me glad to know it."

"As it should be." And often wasn't. But he couldn't do anything about how others lived in their relationships, only cherish his own.

"I am sorry for asking questions about...past experiences. It is simply that I have never had a man inside me without pain and I simply wanted to have an idea of what it felt like when it wasn't that way, even if it was only a clinical description and not a personal experience."

Sansa leans in and kisses him softly.

"How will it feel for you, then, since you know that part best? How have you dreamed of it feeling with me?"

"Don't be sorry," he said, kissing her head again. "We are both new to each other, Sansa. Both learning. I want you to feel as if you can ask me things. And perhaps I should stop listening to the desire I have to protect you overmuch and answer you instead of wanting to protect you from your past. So in answer, I think it will feel- I hope it will feel good. Like my fingers. But a tad more filling than that. There's a place inside you, a little spot that's incredibly receptive to sensation. It helps with making it feel good."

He pet her hair as she spoke, grinning against it. "I tried not to think of my future mate. Some beings live thousands of years without finding them. Fate might have split souls to come together, but through folly and chance, they may never meet each other. Or, they die before they can. One half of a soul born in a place that has a high mortality rate might take overlong for there to be any time for that life to make it to where they might even stand a chance at meeting their other half. The Fates aren't always known for being kind. Just... what they are."

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