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Twisted Up

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She squeezed his arms. She rolled her hips. She nipped at his lips as he claimed her mouth with his. She moaned prettily and whispered his name. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her thighs around his hips. She held him against her afterwards, playing with his hair, or tracing her fingers up and down the ridges of his spine while she hummed softly. Or she'd let him hold her, let him tuck her head up under his chin and snake his arms protectively around her thin frame.

But after a few minutes, it was always the same. She'd give him a soft smile and a kiss on the cheek, then leave their bed, keeping her back to him as she crossed the room. She'd don a robe, a nightgown, occasionally his discarded tunic, and sit at her small desk. Sometimes reading, or writing. Sometimes sewing and embroidering. Sometimes just staring off into space while she absently chewed her nails. She would never talk to him during these times, just grunt or hum to indicate she'd heard him. She'd only allow him to touch her once, maybe twice, before she'd leave their chambers and return to her solar.

Sandor had done everything he could think of to try to bring his little queen to peak. She seemed to enjoy his touches, somewhat, but he knew she'd never climaxed with him. What started as a quest to boost his male ego turned into genuine concern after a few turns of the moon. He'd lick and suck at her, fuck her with his fingers, he'd tried different positions, all while working at her little nerve bundle, but nothing had brought that completion yet. He was beginning to worry that she didn't enjoy their coupling at all, that she just did what she thought he expected.

That thought made him sick. He'd managed to go this long without hearing details of Sansa's treatment by Littlefinger and Ramsay, but he knew that she'd been repeatedly and brutally raped by her late husband. Their trysts had begun slowly, subtle touches of arms, to stolen moments pressing her against the cold stone of a corridor wall when they crossed paths. The first time she'd asked him to join her in her solar after supper, she'd told him that she didn't know if she'd ever want another man in her bed. He'd kissed her knuckles and reassured her of his feelings for her, but the longer this went on, the more sure he was becoming that she had accepted him into her bed before she was ready.

The woman at the center of his troubles broke his reverie by sweeping in their chambers. She barred the door and smiled at him. He lowered the book he'd been trying to read so it was face down across his abdomen, and beckoned her over. He was clad only in thin cotton sleep pants, and she in a white silk nightgown that came down to her mid thigh and clung to every curve.

She crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, throwing her leg across his hips to straddle him and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

"Sandor…" she hummed against him.

"My queen." He teased, and she smacked his arm with a feigned frown before kissing him again.

"I've missed you these last few days." She murmured as she moved his book and settled against his chest. He hummed to indicate he was listening. "You've been asleep by the time I came to our rooms the past four nights. Between you overseeing the structure repairs, and I'm trying to help Jon arrange transport for the Lannister men who surrendered to be sent to the wall…"

She trailed off as he snaked his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Aye, I've missed you too." He admitted softly. "You look too damn peaceful in the mornings, I can't bear to wake you."

"Well we're both awake now." She said mischievously, pushing herself off his chest and rolling her hips against his.

He groaned deep in his throat and his eyes fluttered shut as she began to grind on him. He was already hard and about ready to flip her over beneath him and pound her into the feather mattress, but he forced himself to grasp her gently by the hips and stop her movements.

"My love?" She panted questioningly, meeting his gaze with a confused look on her face.

"I wanted to ask you something." He rasped out, his voice husky with his arousal. She stiffened slightly and he cleared his throat nervously. "You, ah... you've never peaked when we… couple." He had decided ahead of time to avoid his normal coarse language where he could to try to keep her from getting too uncomfortable to talk about it at all.

Quite suddenly she swung off him, settling herself on the bed next to him with her knees pulled to her chest.

"That wasn't a question." She said softly after a few moments of tense silence.

"Do you… do you enjoy it when we're together? Do you like it?"

"Yes, Sandor, of course." She said, her frown softening slightly. She reached out one hand to lay on his arm. "You feel so good, my love. I feel so safe and loved when we couple. I enjoy it very much."

He considered her for a moment, then threw caution to the wind. He wanted to get to the bottle of this with her.

"Have you ever peaked before?" he asked softly, meeting her gaze steadily.

She withdrew her hand from his arm and inhaled sharply, her entire face and chest flushing bright red.

"I don't want to talk about that." She told him shakily, averting her gaze.

"Please, little bird, talk to me."

The 'little bird' made her pause and consider him for a moment. He'd refrained from calling her that when he'd noticed that she would frown when he did, mayhaps because it had been an insult at first, rather than a pet name. Or maybe because it reminded her of all she'd lost since they were in Kings Landing. The Wildings called her Lady Crow or Lady Wolf, so Sandor had taken to calling her 'little crow' or 'wolf bird' both of which always made her smile.

She turned back to face him, still bright red in the face, but she nodded once. "I have."

"Will you tell me about it? What brought you there?" He reached for her hand again. She didn't fight him off, but made no move to return the hold.

"You don't want to hear about that." Her murmur was quieter than a whisper, and he felt like cold water had been dumped down his spine.

"I do." He countered gently, cupping her face with his other hand. "I want to make you feel amazing, little crow, I want you to feel the bliss you make me feel. Tell me how."

He waited several long minutes during which she didn't meet his gaze. He was just about to give up, to say nevermind, they could talk about it another time, pull her back into his arms, when she inhaled shakily and finally spoke.

"You don't understand what it was like with Ramsay."

He had to lean a little closer to hear her.

"He didn't just beat me, he didn't just rape me. It was a year of psychological torture. He changed me. Trained me to be exactly what he wanted." Her eyes brimmed with tears but they hadn't fallen yet.

Sandor squeezed her hand to comfort her, knowing he couldn't speak now or she'd never finish.

"The worse the beating or humiliation was, the more violent he'd be when we coupled. I eventually developed an association, and… and my body would betray me, attempting to ease some of the violence that I knew was coming…" she trailed off and was silent for a moment, then turned to meet Sandor's horrified gaze. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"You're saying… Sansa… are you saying that…" he couldn't force the words from his mouth.

"It's pain and humiliation that lights a fire in me now." She whispered, averting her gaze from him again. "I know it's terrible, and it doesn't make any sense… but that's why I don't peak when we make love, Sandor; you're so gentle with me, and I love it, I love it so much…" she trailed off again, biting her lip.

He fought to keep his face impassive as he took in all she'd said. He kept up brushing his thumb across her knuckles to comfort her.

"He would tie me up and let his men take turns touching me." She whispered, and Sandor's head snapped back up to look at her. "They would compete, see who could make me peak fastest. Or they would all bring me right to the edge, over and over, make me beg for it… If he wanted to reward one of his men, he'd force me to pleasure them with my mouth while he took me from behind. He took away all my clothes, and he'd have his men drag me all over Winterfell with nothing to cover myself. Once he tied me up in the stables and left me there for the attendants to find the next morning. He rewarded me the same way he punished me. It got all twisted up and I learned to like it."

She turned to meet his gaze and he schooled his horrified expression.

"I could never do anything like that to you." He whispered.

She smiled softly. "I know. I wouldn't want you to."

He considered her for a moment, then tugged her back into his arms. She went willingly, laying her cheek against his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, then up and down her arm. He didn't know exactly what he'd expected her to say, but this changed everything. He thought she wouldn't want him to keep trying to make her climax, and he wasn't sure he should, but he still had a hard time believing she could truly enjoy being fucked by him without peaking.

"Tell me what you're thinking." She whispered a moment later.

"I'm sorry." He replied at once. "For everything, little bird. You shouldn't have had to endure any of that." He hesitated. "I'm not sure where to go from here, with us. I want you to love it when we're together, I want to make you feel good, but I can't."

"You do." She said immediately, pushing herself up to look at him. "I do love it, and it does feel good."

He shook his head slightly, averting his gaze. His mind was reeling and he couldn't make sense of this.

"You…" she began hesitantly, and he looked back at her. "Maybe if you hurt me a little bit? Be a bit more… rough?"

She bit her lip and he was about to say absolutely fucking not, but the look in her eyes made him bite his tongue.

"Do you want me to?" He asked after a moment.


Her whisper was so quiet that if he hadn't seen her mouth move, he would've thought he imagined it.

"Are you sure?" He asked after a moment.

She nodded, quickly discarded her silk small clothes, and pushed herself up on her knees. She pulled one of his hands between her legs and guided his fingers up her folds. He let her guide him, and she released his hand when she was satisfied with the way his fingers lay against her sex.

She took a deep breath. "Hurt me, Sandor." She breathed, and his eyes snapped back to hers. "Bite, pinch, slap, anything. I'm serious."

He stared at her for a long moment, then shifted closer, keeping his hand pressed between her legs. He lowered his mouth to one rosy nipple that was poking through her silk chemise, and bit down on it. He gasped when he felt a surge of wetness on his fingers, and looked up at her.

"Keep going." she urged him with a soft moan.

He swept the chemise up out of the way, sinking his teeth in the soft flesh at the underside of her breast, hard enough to leave a deep bruise. She moaned, long and low, and he moved his teeth next to her clavicle, nipping at her skin there before sinking his teeth again into her shoulder. Her hips jerked against his hand and he marveled at how she got so wet, so fast.

"Sansa…" he whispered, shaking his head a little. He was overwhelmed, addicted to the way he was making her feel, but not wanting in any way to cause her pain.

"Don't stop." She whimpered, one hand steadying herself on his shoulder. "Please, don't stop."

He slipped one finger easily into her core and she moaned again.

"More, Sandor, please. Stretch me open for you."

Beads of sweat were beginning to form on her brow as she rocked her hips against his hand. He hesitated, then pushed two more fingers into her. She hissed and her fingernails scraped against his shoulder, then her head fell back in pleasure as she panted. He brought his mouth back to one nipple, biting and tugging on it, his free hand imitating his mouth on her other breast.

She groaned, rocking faster into his fingers, fucking herself hard on his hand. Sandor pushed up onto his knees in front of her, guiding each of her hands to his shoulders to steady herself. She looked up into his face, her face twisted with pleasure and her eyes dark with lust. He curled his fingers in her, rubbing hard on that rough patch deep inside her and she cried out, pushing against him desperately and sinking her fingernails into his shoulders.

Sandor dropped his free hand to the tie at the waist of his pants, quickly tugging them loose and pulling out his cock. He was unbearably hard and couldn't take it any longer; and he didn't want to feel her climax for the first time on his fingers. He pulled his hand free, eliciting a desperate whine from Sansa that sent another jolt to his groin. He growled as he shoved into her all at once, squeezing one hip hard as he pounded into her, the other hand coming up to pinch and tug her nipples.

She released a high pitched moan. "Sandor! Please, I'm so close…" she was almost sobbing now.

Sandor dropped his mouth to hers, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and nipping it, making her gasp. She moaned and grunted rhythmically with his thrusts.

"Tell me what you need." He growled down at her, trying like hell to hold off his own peak.

"Hit me." She gasped, meeting his gaze even as tears began to stream down her face. "Please."

He hesitated for a heartbeat, then slapped her across the face. She shrieked into her climax as his palm struck, and his hand flew to her throat instinctively, squeezing to quiet her shrieks. Her quim clenched hard around him and he felt her juices dripping down both their thighs, and he groaned out his own release into her open mouth, kissing her fiercely with his hand still squeezed on her throat.

He panted and slowly released her throat, and she collapsed into him, trembling and sobbing.

"Fuck, Sansa." He cursed, gathering her into his arms and settling back on the bed, pulling her into his lap. "I'm so sorry, little bird, fuck I'm so sorry."

He cradled her head against his shoulder, stroking her hair, his other arm wrapped securely around her tiny frame.

She shook her head, then lifted her face to his. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks, and she hiccuped slightly.

"That was amazing." She murmured, her cheeks turning pink. "That was so good, Sandor. You felt so good."

He stared down at her, mouth agape for a moment, then slowly pulled her back into his chest, holding her until she caught her breath. She nuzzled into him, wrapping her arms around his middle. He thought she would pull away after a while, to clean herself up or sit in her solar, but after a few minutes he heard her breathing even out, indicating she'd fallen asleep.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, then tightened his arms around her as he settled them under the blankets. She hummed and threaded her fingers into his chest hair, pulling herself tight into his side. Sandor gazed down at her for a few minutes, then leaned back on the pillows and let himself drift to sleep.


Sansa woke earlier than usual, evidenced by the pre-dawn bluish hue to her chamber. She stretched her arms over her head, arching her back and curling her toes, and let out a satisfied hum as she relaxed. She looked to her right and saw Sandor's side of the bed empty.

She frowned and sat up, smiling a little to herself at the soreness in her body from their activities the night before. She looked around the room, and her worry evaporated when she saw Sandor. He had his back to her, standing in front of the window. He was wearing dark breeches and a loose linen tunic, hands folded behind his back.

"My love…" she murmured, and he turned.

"Little bird." He nodded, then turned back to the mirror.

"What's wrong?" She asked, swinging her legs out of bed and standing.

"Just thinking." He murmured.

Her stomach dropped. "Have I upset you?" She asked nervously, padding towards him and touching his elbow.

He turned back to her. "No, little bird." He replied, cupping her cheek.

She leaned into his hand, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle. He held her against him, moving his hand from her cheek to the back of her head, and he kissed her hair.

"How do you feel this morning?" He asked after a few moments.

"Good." She responded, feeling herself blush slightly. "Last night was amazing."

He pulled away and touched her neck. "I left bruises on you. Do they hurt?"

"Only a little." She smiled at him.

He sighed and turned back to the window. She frowned again.

"What is it, Sandor?"

He didn't respond, and after a few moments she sighed and turned away to get dressed.


She turned back to him, biting her lip nervously.

"I don't know what to make of this." He admitted. "I'm not a gentle man; I'm rough, and crude, and mean. I've been so careful not to hurt you, and I fear that if I stop holding myself back, I'll hurt you for true. I could never live with myself. Last night, after when you were crying… I could've thrown myself off the highest tower for doing that to you."

He turned away from the window again to face her, and she could see the conflict in his grimace.

"You didn't." She said at once, reaching for him again. He hesitantly took her hand. "Don't worry yourself, Sandor, I loved every second of it."

"It didn't remind you of him?"

"Not at all." She gave him a soft smile. "I was safe the whole time, was I not? You would've stopped if I'd asked."

He nodded slowly. "Is that how you want it all the time?" He met her gaze, looking nervous.

She bit her lip again. "Would that be okay?"

He huffed out a chuckle. "I'll give you anything and everything that's mine to give, little bird. I love you."

Her heart jumped at those last three words. She knew he loved her, of course, but he said it so rarely. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, then took a deep breath.

"Promise you'll talk to me." He murmured. "If I push you too far, or hurt you, or scare you… if you want me to do something different, or never do something again…"

She cupped his scarred cheek and leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to his twisted lips.

"I will, my love." She promised.

He caught her lips with his again and kissed her gently, tenderly, cupping her jaw with his huge hand.

"I'll help you unlearn what that whoreson did to you." He whispered against her mouth. "I promise someday you'll have my name on your lips while you peak from me loving you and worshipping you like the queen you are."

She shivered at his words and pressed her body into his, deepening their kiss. He dropped his hands to her waist and guided her back towards the bed. He stopped a few feet from it, and broke their kiss.

He gave her silk chemise that she still wore a gentle tug. "Off." He growled, then turned and went to his wardrobe.

She obeyed at once, feeling a blush begin on her cheeks. She'd fallen asleep before she could put her small clothes back on last night, and now stood naked in the middle of the room. She crossed her arms over her chest reflexively. He came back across the room and tapped her arms with a folded leather belt.

"None of that, let me see you."

She dropped her arms and took a deep breath as he began to circle her, looking her up and down. She could already feel herself getting wet. He stopped in front of her and touched the bruise on her shoulder, then the one under her breast from where he'd bit her last night. His eyes flashed to hers, and she felt her knees weaken slightly at the dark heat in his look. He walked back behind her and dipped his hand between her legs, dragging his finger through her folds. She shivered.

"Already wet for me, little bird?" She could hear the smirk in his voice and bit her lip, but didn't answer. He smacked the belt against her arse and she yelped, then he grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back, making her gasp. "Answer me." He growled dangerously, and she felt another gush of her wetness.

"Yes." She whispered.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'm already wet for you."

He licked her from her shoulder all the way up her neck to the hollow behind her ear.

"Good girl."

He released her hair and withdrew his hand, and she took a deep breath to steady herself, biting her lip again with anticipation. He stopped in front of her again and crooked his finger under her chin so she'd meet his gaze. For a long moment they just looked at each other, then the good corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth.

"Get on the bed, hands and knees." He growled. "I want to see your pretty little cunt."

She obeyed at once, crawling onto the bed and glancing at him over her shoulder. She saw him approaching the bed slowly, and shivered again. He reached her and pressed two fingers into her without any preamble. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and let him push in deeper.

"My little bird is a dirty girl." He mused from behind her, pumping his fingers in and out of her. "She kept quiet about what she really wanted all this time."

He pulled his fingers away and brought the belt down on her rear. She cried out, then moaned deeply when he pushed his fingers back into her. He curled his fingers against that sweet spot only he could reach, and brought the belt down again. She groaned and dropped down to her forearms, twisting her fingers in the sheets as she felt herself get impossibly wetter.

He kept his fingers curled against that spot and brought the belt down again, one, two, three times, then withdrew his hand and brought it down again, even harder than before. She was trembling with want now, and could feel her juices beginning to trickle down her thighs. He dropped the belt onto the mattress beside her and rubbed soothing hands on her bottom where he'd struck her, then knelt down and gave her core a long, slow lick, from her nub to her arsehole. She gasped and whimpered, then tried to shimmy back against his face. He pulled away and brought his hand down on her rear, making her whine.

"Greedy little bird." He sounded amused, and she heard him walking around to the other side of the bed.

She raised her face out of the blankets to look at him, and found him smirking down at her. He grabbed her arms and pulled her closer to the corner of the bed. He brought her hands together and bound her wrists together with one end of the belt, then secured the other end to the bed frames post. She sighed heavily, heart pounding, and looked from her bound wrists up to him. He was pulling at the ties of his breeches, and a moment later his huge manhood sprang free. He climbed onto the bed beside her and grasped her chin, guiding her face towards his cock.

She took him in her mouth at once, swirling her tongue and sucking on his tip. He groaned deeply and wrapped a hand in her hair, tugging her fiery locks, and began to thrust into her mouth. She moaned around him and he tugged harder on her hair. She looked up into his face and saw him staring straight back down at her. She felt tears start to prick the corners of her eyes by the time he pulled away, leaving her gasping for breath.

She gazed up at him as he moved backwards off the bed. Once on his feet, he reached underneath her to toy with her nipples, giving each a harsh pinch and sharp tug, making her whimper and roll her eyes back. He circled the bed until he was behind it again, climbing up behind her and bringing his hand down on her arse. She gasped and flinched, then moaned hard on the second smack.

He grabbed her hips firmly, tugging her back as far as he could with her wrists bound. She felt him guide the head of his manhood up and down her slick folds, then pushed into her all at once, making her cry out. He released a groan from deep in his chest, then grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled, making her neck arch back as far as she could go. He gave her rear another hard smack, and began thrusting into her with abandon, making her entire body rock back and forth. He snaked his free hand around her front, easily finding her clit and working it furiously, alternating between circling it and pinching it sharply.

Tears were streaming down her face again as she felt her release build. She was moaning and whimpering beneath him, and every time she tried to angle her hips to remove her clit from his fingers he pinched it harder, making her yelp even as she got impossibly wetter. She came with a shriek after just a couple of minutes, hooking the tops of her feet around the back of his knees as she trembled and screamed.

He made a satisfied noise and released her hair, making her head drop forward onto the bed. He seized her hips with both hands and plowed into her, grunting with his effort. She whimpered and mewled as he pounded into her overly sensitive channel, every sharp tug on her hips as he thrust into her making her wrists and shoulders ache. He roared his release after another few moments, his thrusts becoming erratic as he peaked. He stilled behind her, smacked her ass again, then pulled away from her and collapsed at her side, panting. She buried her face in the sheets to hide her tears, knowing Sandor would worry.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked after a few moments.

"No." She turned her head towards him and smiled.

He rolled on his side and brushed her tears away with his thumbs, then kissed her gently. He held her face for a few moments, then heaved himself up with a grunt, releasing her wrists from their binding. She winced and gasped a little as blood flow returned to her hands, and she sat up. Sandor sat in front of her and took her wrists in each of his hands, rubbing them gently. He kissed the inside of each wrist, then met her gaze.

"Thank you." She whispered.

He tugged her back into his embrace and she snaked her arms around his middle, burying her face in his chest. He stroked her hair and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Any time." He whispered back.