So here's the last chapter of this little smutty story. Once again, this fic is not betaed.
Hope you'll all enjoy and remember that comments are loved! :)
Sansa
The first rays of light were only starting to colour the cold northern sky with their beautiful pink hue when Sansa pushed the thick curtains of her window and opened the shutters. Her room was immediately invaded with a burst of freezing air but its bite was somehow invigorating and Sansa smiled at the much loved feel.
Just as she was about to shut the glass shutters, her attention got suddenly drawn by the small figure of a flying raven that she saw heading toward the maester's quarter out the corner of her eye. The small room where the birds were housed was accessible without trespassing the maester's personal chambers and therefore, Sansa had taken a habit in fetching the messages sent to Winterfell herself on the occasions she had glimpsed a raven approaching at such an early hour. As much as receiving any news from the rest of the realm always piqued her curiosity, the fact that Sandor Clegane had told her that a missive had been sent from the capital to inform her of his innocence in the Saltpan's massacre decupled the excitement Sansa usually felt at such a sight. Without even waiting an extra instant, she threw a cloak over her dressing gown, opened the door and ran to the maester's quarter.
The raven was already waiting to be let in, settled over the perch outside the glass shutters when she arrived to the small, bird dropping smelling room. A moment later she opened the window, hands trembling with anxiety. The raven instantly hopped inside and Sansa led it to the large cage where a group of other birds waited, nestled against each other, and large quantities of seeds, grains and water were left in permanence. Before it had a chance to join his fellow birds, Sansa didn't forget to unbind the small piece of paper that had been tied around the raven's leg and in a question of seconds, she was already leaned next to the window, the message unfolded and ready to be read.
Shaking as much from the coldness of the room as from anticipation, Sansa couldn't stop her eyes at first from jumping from one word to the other with the same erratic speed a hummingbird has as it flies from flower to flower. Only once she was reassured the missive didn't hold any bad news was she able to allow her eyes to travel over the writing at a normal pace. Obsessively, she then read and reread the message, over and over again, until she was absolutely certain she hadn't misunderstood its meaning.
Sansa's heart was pounding with the same force the steeple's bells of the Great Sept of Baelor resound with through King's Landing on grand occasions and her lips were curling of their own accord into a wide grin. Sandor Clegane had been officially cleared of all crimes he had ever been accused of and was as free as any other honest man to travel and work anywhere he liked throughout the Seven Kingdoms. The confirmation was exhilarating to Sansa. Although she had never doubted his claim, to hold the proof of his words in her own hands was an undeniable relief.
Nevertheless, once the first few moments of pure exaltation had passed, Sansa's mood quickly began to sour - if only slightly. Albeit she wasn't truly mad at him anymore, she hadn't really appreciated some of the crude comments the Hound had made on the last occasion she had visited him in his cell. It was of course to be expected from him that he'd say anything he thought and never take care to censure any of his ideas – however awful they were. Still, as he was her captive, Sansa had felt she couldn't let him insult her without making him pay for his disrespect in some way or another. In the situation they had been in at the time of his misbehaviour – her cleaning him, and him being so… undeniably… interested in more – it had seemed only natural that she didn't give him the only thing he truly yearned for and leave him on his own instead. That had been two days ago and she hadn't came back to see him since.
Sandor Clegane had called her cruel and stated that she was purposely teasing him with the meticulousness she had used while bathing him and the idea wasn't a pleasing one to Sansa. Still, although it mortified her to admit it to herself, she couldn't deny that she had indeed enjoyed witnessing the man squirm and complain in obvious burning and urgent need under her innocent touch. While the very idea made her blush in shame, the power she had held over him had intoxicated her and sent her core throbbing almost painfully in a way she had never experienced previously. Notwithstanding her own thirst, she had felt it necessary though that she kept her thighs closed as a septa on that night in order to show him that as long as he was her prisoner, she couldn't allow him to treat her so. It had pained her to leave his solid and male body and swollen, massive manhood while her folds screamed in longing to be invaded, however some sacrifice required to be done from time to time for the sake of statements to be made. Thereby, she had left him and strode to her chambers to take care of her need herself, as she was certain Sandor Clegane had also done on his own.
The Hound had told her that he had ridden to Winterfell with the intention of serving her from the moment he had been officially cleared and Sansa had accepted his offer as soon as he had spoken the words. She was still more than willing to give him a place at the castle. Winterfell was in dire need of a capable man-at-arm and Sandor Clegane would fill the post perfectly. Not to mention that in that role, he would be expected to stay by Sansa's side most of the time, which was all she truly wished for. Sill, some suppressed part of her wasn't totally glad of all the control she would soon lose over him. Even as a retainer, the Hound would never let himself be walked over or shy away from taking liberties – it had never been his ways, even while he served the Lannisters. Things would change in the blink of an eye once the man was freed from his chains, Sansa realised once more while breathing out a deep sigh. Well, nothing lasts forever, she reasoned. At least, I had the occasion to live the experience. Although, perhaps…
Perhaps she should have a little fun – just one last time - before she told him the good news. There wouldn't be naught really dishonest about acting so and as it was her last chance of being the mighty one between the two of them, why shouldn't she indulge herself? she wondered, blushing in shame at her own brazen intensions while biting her bottom lip in building hunger.
The Hound was asleep when Sansa stepped inside his cell. He had put his breeches back on since the last time she saw him but as he hadn't been given any new tunic, he lay with his blankets tightly wrapped around his bare chest.
The sound of her soft treads against the stone floor awoke him almost instantly. In an instant, his eyes popped open and his already alert gaze darted toward her. "You came back," he rasped flatly while sitting up on his makeshift bed, his voice rough with the last remnant of sleep.
"You thought I'd abandon you here forever?" Sansa asked him, the corner of her lips pulling up into a small smile. The idea was slightly ridiculous to her.
Sandor Clegane snorted softly at that. "How the fuck was I to know?" he retorted, seemingly irritated by her amusement. "Seems like I don't understand a damned thing about you bloody women."
For a long moment after the bitter words left his mouth, silence stretched awkwardly between them. Sansa was unsure of what she might tell him to soothe the boiling anger that still unmistakably lingered in him. As for the Hound, he was staring at her, resentment shining in his dark eyes, but at least he kept his mouth shut and didn't utter a single comment or complaint. Mayhap had he learned something from her last visit after all.
After a couple of minutes, Sansa bit her lip, turned around and threw her cloak over the ground not far from the closed door. At a loss for words, she decided to let her actions speak for themselves. When she faced the Hound again, he was looking at her in a mix of curiosity, annoyance and wariness, his head slightly tilted to the side. Locking her stare to his, Sansa smiled shyly and blushed, heart pounding madly, while untying the rope of her dressing gown before letting the garment fall open around her. The man's eyes widened instantly at the sight of her nakedness. Well aware that her underclothes wouldn't be of much use for the sort of activity she had planned devoting herself to, Sansa had left the piece of clothe in her room and she was pleased with her wise decision now that she beheld the Hound's reaction. Through its small window, the dawning light permeated the whole cell, giving him his first good view of her body and for a short instant, he seemed completely absorbed by what he saw. His obvious interest giving her courage, Sansa pushed her dressing gown from her shoulders and carelessly let it fall over the floor.
At that, the Hound raised his stare from her curves and gazed at her, eyes suddenly narrowed with suspicion. "What's that again?" he demanded harshly, mouth twitching. "Didn't have enough fun already last time you came here? Or perhaps did you have too much fun and want to repeat the damned experience?"
Far from certain on how she should answer, Sansa simply took a few steps toward him and pushed her long hair aside in a seductive gesture, her lips curling into a coy smile. She was still too far for him to reach her if he stood and Sandor Clegane obviously knew it, judging by the way he was glaring at her.
Snorting with something akin to rage, the man turned his head aside and averted his eyes from her, frustration oozing from him. "You won't drag me in you buggering game this time around, little bird. I'm warning you: you're losing your fucking time," he hissed between his teeth, his tone as sharp as Valyrian steel.
Although his reaction wasn't exactly what she had hoped for, Sansa could glimpse the tightness of his breeches from where she stood. No matter how resolute his words, he had already lost that round also. The knowledge gave her the nerves she needed to try something she highly suspected would draw his attention on her again. Breathing in deeply, Sansa began caressing her breasts with one hand while the other trailed down her side until it landed over her mound. Playing with the dark auburn hair that grew there, she watched as the Hound furtively glanced at her out the corner of his eyes without turning his head toward her. Sansa almost giggled at the sight of his manly weakness. She had a pretty good idea on how to kill the last shred of resistance that he still so stubbornly insisted in using against her and decided that she should act immediately.
In a deliberate slow movement, Sansa lowered her fingers over her folds and let them slid between their silky lips, feeling her own wetness while uttering a small moan. The Hound instantly tensed, eyes grown wide and jaw clenched tightly, but still didn't turn to stare directly at her. It didn't matter; it was only a question of seconds before he gave up, Sansa didn't have a shadow of doubt about it.
However evident it was to her, the man nevertheless still tried to convince himself that he was stronger than they both knew he was. "Quit your little show; it's useless. You won't get a damned thing from me as long as you're not on all fours somewhere I can reach you," he grunted, his head slowly turning toward her without him probably even noticing it.
The battle was almost won and it wouldn't be very long before Sandor Clegane realised it too.
Throwing her head back, Sansa raised her fingers to her sensitive little nub and began shifting them over it, letting out a whimper at the exquisite sensation while grabbing one of her breasts with her other hand. Less than a heartbeat later, she heard the Hound abruptly standing up and striding in her direction, his chains clanging loudly when he reached their limit. The sound startling her, Sansa lowered her eyes from the ceiling to see him looming over her at about a step away, his tethers taut behind him.
"Damned you woman!" he snarled menacingly, eyes wild. "You truly want me to lose it completely, do you?"
This was too much and Sansa couldn't hold back a short giggle from escaping her lips.
"You really are a cruel little bird to mock me so," Sandor Clegane muttered darkly as he unlaced his breeches and freed his hard and heavy manhood. Without waiting even so much as a single second, he circled his hand around its width and began stroking himself. "You think I forgot how you moaned so very sweetly on that first time you visited me and jumped over my cock? I didn't of course. And you know it well enough too. Come closer and I'll fuck you so hard, you'll forget anything else exists in the whole buggering wide world apart from my cock and you cunt. You'll scream my name without even realising it and beg me to-"
Sansa didn't even let him finish. She wasn't as cruel as he pretended she was and besides, she really longed to feel his stiff member sheathed deeply between her thighs. He wasn't wrong in that.
Smiling shyly, she removed her hands from her body and took a single step toward him. The man didn't lose an instant and seized her by the waist, yanking her to him. His hold on her was so strong it almost hurt. It was evident he wouldn't let her go.
"I've got you, little bird," the Hound murmured threateningly in her ear, his breath warm against her burning cheek. "You'll soon learn how a dog avenges himself after he's been left out. Ready to be fucked raw?" he asked wickedly while dragging her to his makeshift bed.
She was. Shutting her eyes, Sansa let him lower her on all fours all the while groaning in a mix of desire and anticipation.
Holding her tightly around the hips, Sandor Clegane kneeled behind her. There was no way she could ever flee from him now, for his grip on her was far too strong but Sansa had no intention to escape. On the contrary, she couldn't wait for his thick member to enter her and could feel her lady's parts seeping with moisture at the sole thought of what was inevitably coming her way. Instinctively, she spread her legs wide apart to offer the Hound the best access possible and shut her eyes, moaning softly.
Grunting, the man removed one of his hands from Sansa's hips. "Don't try to flee," he ordered while aiming his shaft into her entrance with no foreplay whatsoever. Its head slid into her as smoothly as a hot knife through butter and the Hound growled with satisfaction at finding her so welcoming. "By the Seven buggering Hells, little bird, but you're soaked," he rasped under his breath while settling his hand back over her hip. "You really want me to fuck you, don't you? It's your lucky day: that's all I long for too. I'll give you what you yearn for, no worries to have." Speaking his last words, Sandor Clegane finished impaling her in one neither-too-fast-nor-too-slow shove, careful not to hurt her, for even though he didn't meet much resistance in the wetness of her cleft, the size of him was still so large that he might have otherwise.
The sharp sensation it elicited was slightly painful but still, beyond exhilarating to Sansa and she couldn't hold back a cry of pleasure from escaping her lips. While her insides were completely stretched around the impressive width of Sandor Clegane's member, depths that had never been claimed by anyone but him were also being assailed in the most wonderful manner. The knowledge of how the man's shaft filled her so very completely was once more intoxicating to her and was enough to make her lose all wit and sense of pride she had. No coherent thought could form in her mind anymore; it was as if her most basic self had taken the lead and chassed away the proper and smart young woman she usually was, leaving in place a licentious creature that lived only to be taken as vigorously as possible.
"Oh, please…" she moaned when she became impatient that Sandor Clegane's assault truly began.
Snorting, the Hound began massaging Sansa's hips with fingers as firm as steel. "Polite in bed too? Couldn't say I'm surprised," he muttered with some amusement, his gravelly voice rougher than ever. "Go on. Tell me what you want from me. After all, what's a captive like me to do but to obey his gaoler?"
At his demand, Sansa blushed and bit her lip. It was one thing to undress and lower herself on all fours before the Hound but to speak her desire openly was somehow exceedingly embarrassing to her. Still, she really wanted the man to invade her with all his might, and so she decided she'd rather be bashful than unsatisfied. "F… fuck me… hard… As you promised," she breathed, her whole body burning red with shame and her eyes shut as tightly as she could.
Sandor Clegane uttered a short, low laugh at hearing her response. "I always keep my word, little bird," he rasped while slowly beginning to move his shaft inside of her, his chains jingling softly as he did so. Gradually, his movement both hastened and broadened and the sound of his tethers became more intense. "Your cunt's warmer than the Seven Hells, believe me," the man murmured once the rhythm of their coitus was as fast as she had previously fancied. "Never thought anything burning could feel so bloody good," he hissed before groaning loudly.
With more and more force, the man let his manhood slide in and out of Sansa's slick folds and with each of his shoves, she whimpered in the most unladylike fashion, tears pearling in her eyes. Never before had she been taken with so much strength and desperation. The fact that she had abandoned the Hound to himself while he was clearly extremely aroused on the last occasion she had visited him had apparently left him famished for her cleft and given him the fury of a wild beast. Every thrust of his member in her was filled with the force of his resentment but Sandor Clegane's revenge was one Sansa enjoyed grandly and she couldn't find it in her to regret having given him cause to avenge himself.
"You love it, don't you? Being fucked by a bloody dog? Feeling my cock deep inside your cunt?" he rasped, his breathing coming more and more ragged. When she didn't reply, the man bore his fingers into her skin and lowered himself over her. "Say it," he whispered dryly in her hair. "I want to hear your sweet voice tell me how much you enjoy being dirtied by someone as vile and unsavoury as the Hound."
Biting her lip in a mix of mortification and intent arousal, Sansa let her wanton instinct take the lead once more and gave the man what he asked for. "Yes… I do," she cried meekly. "Please don't stop."
Snorting a short, hoarse laugh, the Hound began pushing his member even harder into her, the cold steel of his chains bumping into her backside and thighs as he did so. "Oh, I won't. There's nothing in the whole fucking world that'll prevent me from spilling myself in you this morning. You even deserve a double ration for being so cruel with me and I'll make sure you get it, deep inside your belly."
Sansa moaned at his promise. She had not an ounce of objection at being taken so savagely and to be shown the colour of his wrath in such a manner. There was no doubting though, that the Hound couldn't last for very long at the frantic cadence he had chosen. His hands were locked around Sansa's hips and pushing her against his groin with impressive urgency in a way that made it clear a part of him still feared she'd fly away from him if he'd so much as loosened his hold on her. He evidently planned on spilling himself as quickly as possible while he had her in his grasp.
In some way, he was using her. Most men usually stroked their partner's curves as they took them and that without being prayed to, but the Hound had reached a point where such considerations didn't even cross his mind anymore. All he seemingly cared about was to empty himself as hastily as he could and Sansa's own pleasure, or even any part of her body that wasn't what lay hidden between her thighs, had in all appearance lost any interest to his eyes. Shockingly though, the idea of being used as a mere hole by the Hound - of being his thing - was somehow incredibly stirring to Sansa. She was beyond willing to lose herself in that role and to become naught more than his bitch for the time being.
Nevertheless, there was no denying that she also really longed to see her own need fulfilled before the man behind her reached his predictably violent climax and lost all his energy and thus, she resolved on forcing the matter on him. Barely managing to keep her balance while doing so, Sansa raised her palm from the ground and reached for Sandor Clegane's hand. Startled by the contact, the Hound would probably have interrupted his raging rhythm if not for Sansa who didn't falter - not even for so much as a second - from eagerly pushing her pelvis against him. While doing so, the young woman circled her fingers around his and pulled at his hand, bringing it between her legs, just over her sensitive nub. The Hound understood immediately what she hinted and compliantly let her show him how she wanted to be caressed.
"The little bird needs to be tickled too?" he rasped in a tone filled with lust, while stirring his fingers under hers, his chain jingling softly with the movement.
As a reply, Sansa moaned wantonly, delighted by the sensation of his rough hand on her.
Once she was certain Sandor Clegane would do a decent job on his own, Sansa settled her hands onto the floor again, instantly amazed at how a fast learner the man was. The contact of his calloused fingers over her sensitive little pearl added to the continuous feel of his large manhood going back and forth into her entrance was so overwhelmingly good that Sansa quickly realised it wouldn't be very long before she came into completion. She would be reaching her peak before the Hound after all.
"Faster," she demanded, all the while whimpering with growing force.
Panting and totally out of breath, Sandor Clegane nonetheless managed to voice a response. "Faster with what? My cock or my fingers?" he asked, sounding equally exhausted and excited.
"Both," Sansa cried almost at the same time.
The man didn't wait a single second before complying with her request. At once, he began hammering her insides with regained strength and speed while pressing his fingers over her nub in the same wild cadence, the steel of his tethers clattering increasingly loudly. Almost instantly, Sansa was blinded by a violent flash of white lighting and the loudest lament she had ever heard herself utter escaped her lips. Her limbs started shacking and she threw her head backward, biting at her lip while letting a deep and overpowering heat sweep over her whole self, body and soul, for a few blissful seconds.
Just as she was beginning to come down from her climax, the Hound groaned loudly, increased his already frantic speed – if only slightly – and tightened his hold on her. Then without warning, he let out a deep moan and halted almost completely in his movement. As he gave a few last slow thrust, the man's warm seed spilled into Sansa's belly and ran down her folds. The sensation was queerly pleasurable and she suddenly became grateful that she would feel it again soon and as often as she wanted from now on, for Sandor Clegane would now be part of her day to day life.
Moments later, they were both lying over the Hound's makeshift bed, slowly and silently coming round. Distractedly looking out the window, Sansa abruptly realised how late it appeared to be. How long did I stay in here? she wondered nervously. She had better dress and leave the Hound's cell before anyone noticed her absence.
Without waiting so much as an additional instant, she rose from her place and strode to where she had left her dressing gown.
"Going already?" the Hound asked. He was still naked, legs and arms spread lazily around him and didn't even bother to raise his head when he spoke. "That's fine with me though. You have a lot to do - I'm bloody certain - as the Lady of Winterfell after all. As long as you come back, I won't complain. Until then, I'll take a little nap and make sweet dreams about your cunt."
At that, Sansa let out an offended gasp, but then she sighed and shook her head in false despair. Was there truly anything surprising about a man such as Sandor Clegane speaking so coarsely? In some twisted way, she had to admit that she did enjoy his crudeness.
Oh! I should tell him about the raven before I go! Sansa suddenly remembered as she was picking up her cloak from the floor. Somehow, she had briefly forgotten about the missive although it was the main reason she had decided to visit the Hound this morning.
Settling her cloak over her shoulders, Sansa turned around to look at the man. He hadn't stirred from his position and was still laid on his back over his bed, his chest heaving up and down in the slow cadence of someone dozing off. At the view, Sansa sighed deeply. It had been so very convenient to have him here in his cell, always available… Of course, he would still live in Winterfell once his irons were taken from his wrists and she certainly had no fear that his freedom diminished the lust he had for her in any way but still, things would become so different from now on. True, she would be his lady and he, a simple retainer but a man as strong and powerful as the Hound would surely never be easily dominated again, however low his rank.
Well, there was naught she could do about the situation but face reality and accept it, she reasoned as she approached the large shape of Sandor Clegane. "I have… some news for you," she began softly.
The Hound didn't reply. Was he sleeping already? Taking another step towards him, Sansa smiled when she heard his soft snoring and saw his closed eyes. I'll need to wake him up, she mused, but then, she thought better of it. After all the energy he had spent taking her as hard as she had asked and the lost of fluid he had gone through, it would indeed be very cruel of her to do such a selfish thing. The poor man badly needed some rest.
No, she wouldn't bother his sleep. The good news certainly could wait a little… What would a day or two… or three or four, change in the end anyhow? After all, who other than herself was aware that the missive the queen had sent had arrived? No one would know if she kept it a secret just a little while longer…
With that, Sansa smiled and carefully shut the door behind her, leaving the Hound to the sweetness of his dreams.
THE END