medicalling | Open Post

The noise merely prompts him to keep doing what he was doing, his tongue lapping at her, lips sealed around her clit, humming against it as he felt his body reacting to her arousal. It was impossible for him not to be rock hard just then, even though he'd already seen to his needs earlier. She wanted what she wanted, and he was beholden to give it to her.

He could taste her on his tongue, the slickness of her pleasure, her body letting him know even if her mind wasn't aware that she was enjoying this. "May I... touch your breasts?" She'd kept them covered, so he'd considered them off limits, but he wanted to ask. To show her all the places on her body that could light her up.

Sansa nods furiously and yanks the shirt up and off, tossing it to the side afterward. It's slightly cool in the room without it and she feels goosebumps pebble her skin but the burning heat between her thighs doesn't let her think about being cold for very long.

"Please? I did not know I wanted it until you asked for it."

Sansa suspects that will be a lot of things surrounding bedding - she won't know what she likes until she just does it. She has a list of dislikes, naturally, but nothing she likes.

And now he knows she likes oral. That's a check for his side, and one he's going to gloat about to himself in private. His hand moves up towards her, eyes watching its progress as his thumb traces around her nipple. Such lovely breasts. Soft, pale, perfect. He wants to taste them as well, but he wants to make her climax from oral first.

Which is why he renews his efforts in using his tongue to slip into her as well as sucking and kissing at her.

Everything he's doing with his mouth feels so good that Sansa feels her hips arching up toward his mouth and she fumbles blindly for the sheets to twist her hands in them and find the back of his head instead so she pulls lightly at his short hair. She does not know if that's a thing she should be doing but she imagines if he doesn't like it, he'll let her know, same as he's waiting on prompts from her.

"It feels so good," she says, voice barely above a whisper. "Everything is...I'm on fire, I think."

It feels as if the world has narrowed down to just his tongue and her folds and she asks him in a trembling voice -

"Did you want to use your hand?"

He doesn't stop, but he slows a bit, eyes up along the length of her body to her face. The blindfold is still in place, and she can't see him, but his eyes light up at the suggestion. "Only to make you feel good." She's wet and he can taste her on his tongue, the mess of her on his face, but he doesn't want her afraid of being penetrated. Digits to start, and he'll see if that's something she can handle.

"Well, yes," Sansa says. "Slow to start, I think. And not so...many. Do it in a way that feels good."

Sansa has no idea if that is enough description for him to figure out what to do and shifts restlessly under him. He must know that she wants his touch, desperately, and that she thinks she might die without it.

Well he was hardly going to start with four fingers, Sansa. One would do, and he gave her nipple one last gentle roll before he took his hand back to bring it down to where his mouth was. One finger to start, slow and careful. She was swollen, slick, and he was careful to watch her as he started his initial insertion.

This had always been painful, penetration, and Sansa is pleasantly surprised that Rowan's finger is not painful. She lets out a long breath and relaxes her muscles from where she'd drawn herself up tight and takes a moment to come back to herself.

"You took away all the injuries," she says quietly. "I thought you had but now I'm certain."

"If you had any lingering ones here, I'd ease them as well. But it seemed his... desires for a bloodline saved you from that particular horror." He'd seen female genital mutilation in his day, along with horrible effects from sexual assault trauma and he just had to be grateful that while he hadn't touched her there, his healing had gotten to anything that might have been in that area.

And just incensed his need to slaughter her husband again.

"Your touch feels good," Sansa murmurs, wanting to forget the spectre of Ramsay and put her mind to better things. She wants to only think of Rowan and his magical touch. She only wants to think of her mate and no one else.

"My love above all loves," she adds, trying to decide how she likes the feel of the words on her lips. She isn't quite ready to profess her love directly because everything is too new and too strange but she can return his affections in these small ways and acknowledge their bond.

Well... that didn't help him keep control of himself. As he carefully added a second finger and crooked it upward, finding that spot and playing around it, not directly on it, he went back to licking up every last bit of her- all while his glamour dropped and he let his attention focus solely on her. On her heartbeat. On those little breathy gasps. On the way her hips moved as she sought relief.

Sansa thrashes against the pillows and as she does, the mask comes off and she catches a glimpse of Rowan between her legs, glimmering bright. It's possibly the most beautiful thing she's ever seen and her breath catches before her body just clamps down on his fingers and flutters around them.

Gods, she's never felt so good in her life. Her heart's beating fast and her lungs feel as if they cannot get enough air. She cannot help but tugging at his hair and pulling him as close to her as she can while riding it out against his face.

"Oh! Oh Gods, Rowan, please," she whimpers.

He growls against her sex, his fingers crooking and teasing at her as she came around him, wanting to draw it out, but not too long. She'd be oversensitive, but he couldn't quite bring himself to be all that worried. It was, it seemed, her first pleasure. And he wanted very much to watch her come undone, to know that she could. That the bedroom could be a place of joy. "There she is, my lovely one. My heart."

"Very...very much so."

It takes Sansa what feels like an eternity to calm down from that exhilarating feeling and she just pets Rowan's hair and his back and everything she can reach while he's still between her legs. At a certain point, everything is too sensitive so she lightly pushes at him.

"It's too much just now," she murmurs. "Too sensitive."

He stops then, hand moving from her, face moving to kiss up along her thigh, pressing one to the dip where her hipbone juts from. He rests there, low on the bed, smiling up at her with a beatific look on his face. "Good. Well, not the too sensitive bit, but that's to be expected after an orgasm. But you enjoyed it?"

"Oh, very much so. Even afterward when it was a bit too much it still felt good," Sansa says, giving him a lazy sort of smile. She ruffles his hair a bit.

"You should take your pleasure from me now."

Brows raise, and he climbs further up the bed, dipping to wipe his face on a far flung sheet, then leaned in to kiss her. Slow, soft, but with a little more to it than the chaste ones he'd given her before. "I very much enjoyed that. Your pleasure is mine." Yes, he was almost painfully hard in that moment, but he could ignore it in favor of curling up with her in his arms with her being as sated as she was.

Sansa falls into the kiss easily and when he says that her pleasure is his, she shakes her head a bit.

"No, I am not a naive girl," she murmurs. "I know how a man's body works. I want you to take what you need from me."

"No," he says, moving to lay beside her, arm sliding around her to pull her closer. "Not tonight. I won't die from having an erection denied, love. It'll go away on its own. I would much rather lay here and enjoy your enjoyment. What parts did you like? Were there any you didn't? This? This is much more important," he said, a flick of magic moving to pull the sheet up over them.

"There weren't any parts I disliked," Sansa says, thinking that is the most important thing to address straight away.

"There...I was so shy to begin with and it felt good not to know what was coming with my eyes covered. However, my favorite part was looking down while I found my pleasure and seeing you glimmering."

He was still glimmering, nuzzling in against her as he tucked her against him. "I didn't mean to do that. You seem to strip me bare of any control." He kissed her hair, her skin, her lips, smiling as he kept that persistent length from prodding at her.

"I don't want you to hide from me. You are... breathtakingly lovely, Sansa. I am your servant."

"Well sometimes I might want to be your servant," Sansa says. Still, she knows her skin is flushed from both exertion and the compliments and she nuzzles up against him. Being together like this, being with someone she wants to be with makes her feel incredibly affectionate.

"Is that allowed?"

"I want you happy. Content and well. However that looks." She's still naked now, and he's not, which means that his hands smoothing over her, petting her, are enjoying the warmth of her body. The bareness of her that he delights in just touching to touch.

"Eventually, you'll concede to letting me please you," Sansa says. She doesn't have much of an argument, however, because when he starts to run his hands along her body all she can do is close her eyes and sigh.

"You're very distracting."

"Good. I like distracting you. You're beautiful when you're lost in pleasure." Well, she was beautiful anyway, but there was a certain flush, a certain glow she had all on her own. It made him wonder how much of himself she'd take into her once their bond was consummated.

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