STOLEN

Chapter 1

The fighting outside the Winterfell walls raged and while the battle was turning in his favor, he realized he'd lost sight of Ramsay. It didn't take long for Jon to realize the coward fled the battle to seek safety within the Winterfell walls. Safety, he might have found, if Ramsay was fleeing from any other adversary and in any place that wasn't Winterfell. Granted, Jon had recently learned he was not Lord Eddard Stark's son, a truth that only three other people knew.

What Ramsay failed to realize, was that no matter who commanded it now, Winterfell was Jon's home. While Jon didn't carry the Stark name, Winterfell was his family's home. He'd been raised there like his mother, and like all the Starks before and after him. A smarter man might have realized for an enemy of the Starks, true safety would not be found within Winterfell walls.

Jon fought his way to the far end of the forest as Ghost followed behind him. Once out of sight, Jon found his way to the secret, hidden entrance that led to the underground tunnels and catacombs. He left Ghost to guard the entrance, to make sure no one could follow him in from behind.

His plan was simple enough, if he could make it happen. Get in, defeat Ramsay and rid Westeros of that maniac. After that, he'd rid Winterfell of Bolton's remaining men, once and for all. Lastly, he would reclaim and restore Winterfell in the name of the Starks. It was his deepest hope that somewhere, he still had family alive. Jon would see Winterfell rebuilt for them to return to.

He knew the sort of man Ramsay was, for he'd heard all the twisted stories of the flaying and beatings, as well as other cruel and usual punishments. All of it was later backed up by a raven he'd received from Asha, Theon's sister.

She had recently tried to claim Winterfell and rescue Theon. She wrote of the destruction of Winterfell and the waste Theon had become at the hands of Ramsay. Jon didn't pity him, not after what Theon was said to have done to Jon's younger brothers - cousins. Jon knew Asha wrote to him as a plea, in hopes that he would help her save Theon after she'd failed, but when Jon refused her so she returned to her home.

If anyone had asked Jon to guess what he might find while sneaking into his childhood home, he could never have conjured up her name. Not even in his wildest dreams. Yet, there she stood, illuminated by a single candle. She was standing in front of Aunt Lya- Mother's statue.

She startled at the sound of his approach, no doubt thinking she'd been discovered by one of Bolton's men. She stared straight at Jon in disbelief, while still examining his face. He was looking back at her just as intently, almost willing himself to believe what his eyes were seeing. Jon felt frozen by the shock, more so than the cold of the North had ever made him.

Without taking his eyes off her or any deliberate thought process, he found his feet slowly moving him towards her. He wanted to reassure her that it was him, that she needn't fear him, but he couldn't make himself speak. She was grown now, a woman. It appeared she was somewhat battered, but he would know her face anywhere.

It was her, Sansa - his mind chanted. It is Sansa. Then another thought - What is she doing here?

Jon and Robb were always thick as sleeves, since they were young boys. So too, were Jon and Sansa, once she'd been born. The three of them played together all the time. Unfortunately, as they grew and their other siblings were born, she began to distance herself from him. Eventually, more and more frequently, Robb began taking on more responsibility as Nedd's first true born son should. Sansa too, became increasingly busy with her lessons to spent less time with him. It hurt Jon for a long time, but eventually, he was made to understand his place as Bastard among the true Stark children.

Robb still tried to make some time for Jon, every once in a while, or they'd take joint hunting trips with Ned. Besides which, their quarters were right beside each other. On the other hand, Sansa barely allowed herself to remain as close to Jon anymore. That would be improper of a young Lady. They never spoke of it, but Jon forgave her long ago. He would not, could not, fault her for learning to assume the role she was meant to live. During their last months in Winterfell, he barely saw much of her and they never spoke.

All thoughts and memories came to a stop when his feet did, standing just a foot before her. All he felt was the urge to take her in his arms, for he had missed her far more than he'd allowed himself to think on. Yet, some old sense of propriety gave him pause. He would not assume to hug or even touch her, if she did not feel so inclined. As strongly as he longed to hold the only family he had left in the world, he would let her take the lead.

As it so happened, Jon needn't have been so worried because in an instant, Sansa dropped the candle lantern and launched herself at him. Her face pressed into the side of his neck and her arms reached under his to close around his back tightly. After the second it took for his mind to realize that, his arms wrapped around her tightly. He felt her body shaking and might have thought she was shivering cold, but he felt her tears on his neck and realized she was crying. He closed his eyes when they fill with tears of his own.

"Jon! Oh, Jon." She mumbled his name against his neck, amidst the sobs, and it was causing a terrible ache in his heart.

He didn't know and he didn't want to imagine all that might have occurred to her. He knew that if her appearance was anything to go by, she must have endured a lot of pain and suffering. And because he'd found her here, at such close proximity to Ramsay, Jon knew it was also likely that some of that pain came at the hands of Ramsay. Yet, as much as it hurt him to think her dead like the rest of his family, it was nothing compared to the pain and guilt he now felt because he had not searched for her. If he had, Jon thought he might have found and saved her before all he imagined had befallen her.

"I'm sorry." He told her suddenly. "I've got you now, but I'm sorry, Sansa. I'm so sor-" I tried to comfort her and apologize, but she cut him off.

"What ever could you be sorry for, Jon?" She asked, pulling away only enough to look into his eyes again while wiping her own.

"I didn't know you were… I thought you were dead… dead like everyone else." He almost sobbed.

"Joh, please don't be sorry for that. You couldn't have known. Besides, I've been in-hiding and living under a different name since leaving King's Landing. I don't blame you, Jon. Please don't blame yourself." She told him while placing a hand tenderly on his cheek, before hugging him tightly once more.

Knowing she was not cross with him, gave Jon a small measure of peace. He wanted to ask her so much and even though he still had things to do above, he couldn't make himself release her just yet. More than anything else now, he knew he needed to get her out of there and take her to safety.

"Sansa, we must go. I came here to defeat Ramsay, but I cannot leave you here in order to do so. Should anything go wrong or happen to me, you cannot remain here. Will you come with me?" He asked her with urgency, then felt her nodding against his neck.

They pulled apart but he held on to her hand. He wasn't quite ready to release her yet, and he was glad she accepted it with a smile. With her hand in his, he picked up the candle lantern she previously dropped, and led her back towards the exit he'd entered.

"We have so much to discuss, Sansa. There is so much I want to ask, if you'll tell me." He admitted while they walked. At her nod, he continued. "I'd like to ask where you've been all this time, but more than anything, I'd like to ask if Ramsay has hurt you."

Sansa sighed briefly but answered him. "Petyr Baelish secretly aided my escape from King's Landing during Joffrey's wedding to Margery. He took me to my Aunt Lysa. To anyone outside of us three, I was Alayne Stone, his bastard daughter. I even dyed my hair color to brown, but more on all that later." She shook her head lightly.

"Just under a month ago, he brought me to Winterfell to be wed to Ramsay. While here, I've witnessed the vile things he's capable of, Jon. And I've even caught the brunt of his anger on several occasions." She told him, lightly touching the edge of her healing lip.

"But if you knew my past with the Lannisters, you'd know this is nothing new for me. Yet, I knew I'd surely receive worse at the hands of Ramsay Bolton. We're supposed to marry tomorrow night, but I've been praying to the gods old and new. Every day before today, I prayed for them to save me from him." Sansa's spoke in a grim tone he'd never heard from her before.

"Every day until yesterday?" He asked curiously, and she stopped walking to look into his eyes.

"Today, I prayed for forgiveness. I came to the tombs where the bones of our family rests. Since none of the gods saw fit to save me from yet another monster, I was prepared to save myself. I planned to take my life before Ramsay could destroy what little I had left." Sansa told him, pulling out a small thin blade from within her coat.

"Gods, Sansa!" He exclaimed, reaching over and taking it from her.

Her words shocked him and the look in her eyes terrified him because he cold tell that she meant what she'd told him. Instinctively, he hugged her to him again.

"No, Sansa. I can't lose you too, not now. I'll never let him hurt you, Sansa. I swear it!" He vowed. "I don't ever want to hear you speak of you taking your life again. Promise me. Please, Sansa." He begged and placed a kiss on the crown of her head.

"I promise, Jon. We're together now. Don't you see? The gods sent you to me, Jon." She told him as she snuggled her face against his chest, before she looked into his eyes.

"For the first time in years, I feel my faith is somewhat restored because the gods sent you to me just in time. I'm grateful, Jon. But more than that, I feel I must apologize to you. I was horrible to you for so long. Never more so, than when I refused to say goodbye to you before we left Winterfell all those years ago." Her words were heartfelt and filled with regret, and new tears streamed down her cheek.

He was quick to wipe them gently and tried to ease her guilt.

"Sansa, you've nothing to apologize for. Please don't fret about it, don't even think it. I always understood. It changed nothing of the love I've always felt for you." He told her gently but urging her to believe the truth in his heart.

"Forgive me." She pleaded resolutely after his words brought on some fresh tears from her.

"There's no need, Sansa, I mean it." He tried telling her, but she shook her head.

"Forgive me. Please, Jon, forgive me." She begged him, so he relented and said the words she so desperately needed to hear him say.

"I forgive you, Sansa. I forgave you long go." He told her while placing one hand on her cheek, assuring that she could look into his eyes and hopefully believe him.

"Thank you. Thank you, Jon." She told him, finally smiling at him again.

"Of course. Now, we really must get you out of here." He smiled back and urged her forward again.

Low, but steady thumping steps were heard as they neared the exit, which scared Sansa. She thought they may have been discovered. Sansa leaned into Jon's side, but all he did was chuckle because he knew what the sound was. Just as he was about to let her know, Ghost rounded the corner heading right towards them. Jon heard Sansa gasp, right before Ghost reached her and began nudging her hands playfully.

"Ghost!" Sansa exclaimed, flashing a beaming bright smile at Jon before throwing her arms around Ghost's neck. "I can't believe I forgot to ask you about him." She told Jon once she released the direwolf, turning back to Jon.

"He's glad to see you… we both are." Jon told her happily and she smiled beautifully at him in return.

"I'm happy to see you both as well." She responded holding one of Jon's hands, while the other ran her fingers through Ghost's fur.

It was night by the time they exited the secret tunnels, which made their escape easier to accomplish. He led her towards the Godswood forest, and away from the battle that could still be heard in the distance. Taking the long way back to his camp under of the cover of trees, was better than risking Sansa being discovered by the wrong people before reaching safety.

He was surprised at Sansa's bravery and her trust in him when he mentioned going through the woods at night. He was just as surprised when she bunched up her long skirts, twisting them in hand, to avoid slowing them down. He didn't even have to prompt her to that or explain that they needed to hurry. He didn't comment on her actions, but watching her, reminded him that those were things they'd likely catch Arya doing, instead of Sansa.

As he affectionately remembered Arya, he compared her to the Sansa he knew, versus the one running beside him. He realized that although Sansa had not complained, she must be freezing in her light layers. The Winterfell Godswood was always colder at night, he remembered as he pulled her to stop running for a moment. Jon remedied matters by removing his outer cloak, then he draped it over her shoulders to warm her.

"Thank you, Jon." Sansa smiled as they continued walking hand in hand.

"Of course. I'm here to protect you now, Sansa. I always will." He promised with a smile.

She paused for a moment at his words, then giggled at something she didn't voice and continued walking alongside him. The years apart had definitely changed them both. That much, was evident, but she was still as beautiful as ever. If not more so - He thought.

They finally reached his camp, and he led her into his tent where they both seemed to take a deep breath. Ghost remained just outside and Jon knew no one would disturb them with his direwolf standing sentry. He served her some water and asked if she wanted anything to eat. He'd fetch her anything she wanted, but really, he fwas feeling restlessness at not knowing exactly what to do next.

"Am I really free? Tell me this real, Jon." She suddenly asked of him with a timid voice that almost broke his heart, and he sighed.

"I've still got work to do, Sansa, and even more to tell you about. But, yes. This is real and you are safe here. You're free. I will do whatever it takes for you to live in peace for the rest of your days." He told her honestly, and hoped she believed him.

"I believe you, Jon. I know I can trust you. In fact, you're the only person I know I can trust. Even at The Vale, the stories reached us of the Great Lord Commander Jon Snow. Everything I heard - real, exaggerated, or fabricated - they always made me feel better knowing you were out there." She smiled whimsically before the smile melted from her pretty face.

"When word came of your death, Jon … I think that was when I lost what little light of hope still remained in me. I resigned myself to live out my days as Alayne Stone with Baelish. Of course, his plans to marry me off to Ramsay came later." She told him bitterly, but shook her head of Petyr.

"How are you alive, Jon?" She asked curiously.

"That's part of a very long story, Sansa." He sighed, before continuing. "A much too long story for right now. I must end this, tonight Sansa. I must put an end to Ramsay and I've got to return to my men. They are counting on me to finish this, so I've got to go now. I'll tell you everything afterwards." He told her and regretted it immediately, for he saw worry and fear displayed across her face.

"Please Jon, don't go. Not now, not tonight! Please don't leave me. I've just got you back. Can't you stay?" She pleaded, almost desperately.

Looking into her terrified eyes, he found himself agreeing. He knew she needed him more than anyone else at that moment. Truth be told, he didn't really much want to leave her yet either.

"Alright, but I must call for a cease-fight for the evening. I cannot leave the men to fight a battle I've abandoned. I've also got to make arrangements for you... a tent with a comfortable bed suitable accommodation. I won't take long and I won't be far, alright?" He asked and she nodded, somewhat relieved.

Just as he exited the flap of his tent, Ghost came bounding inside and jumped onto Jon's bed, wagging his tail at her. He let out several yelps, and she just knew he was calling her over. She giggled and went to sit on the bed beside him. She brushed her fingers through his fur, noting that he was far from clean, but it didn't even faze her. Petting Ghost reminded her of Lady and she felt that loss ache in heart. Ghost must have already gotten attuned to her feelings as Lady used to be, because he whined and whimpered a bit. Then, he licked at her hands until she laughed softly.

"I still miss, Lady is all. But I'm so glad you and Jon found me." She told Ghost happily, and scratched behind his ear like Lady used to love.

Quickly enough, the massive direwolf lay on his back while still nipping at her fingers. He was putting on quite a show to cheer her up. She obliged him by gently combing her fingers through the fur of his tummy.

"Sansa, I've called the men back for the night and made arrangements for – Oh I see how it is." Jon had started to tell her something, but stopped to comment on the scene that greeted him.

Ghost was atop his bed with Sansa scratching his belly and blowing kisses at him, as if he were a mere puppy instead of a massive and dirty direwolf. Sansa, he had to admit, had never looked more glorious or radiant in any of his memories of her, than she did then. She didn't even seem to notice or care about the mud Ghost had dirtied up her dress with.

"Jon, you're back." Sansa said, happy that Jon kept his word to return quickly, but still chuckling at Ghost's antics.

"I steal the Lady away, and Ghost gets all of the maiden's affections." Jon commented offhandedly while laughing at his direwolf's behavior with Sansa.

Sansa paused and felt a tug in her belly at his words. She dismissed it before he noticed, deciding instead to respond to his jest.

"Oh, hush you. I shall shower you both with affection." She replied happily, getting up from the bed and going to hug Jon again.

"See to it then..." He smiled, responding to her hug before continuing. "But only if you promise to shower me with your affections more often than Ghost." He grinned and she laughed at his tone.

"Yes, I promise. In fact, you'll definitely get more because you can actually hug me back." She joked, then smiled fondly. "Yours were always the best hugs, second only to Father's." She spoke softly from the sanctuary of Jon's arms.

"Yours were always the best… bar none." He responded, recalling how she used to hug him every night before bed when they were younger.

There weren't many around that actually hugged him, and even less after he learned his place among the Stark children. Sure, Jon had cared for Ygritte and they had been intimate, but it wasn't an affectionate short-lived relationship they'd shared. Jon wondered if Nedd would have shared the truth of his lineage with Lady Catelyn, if she might have been different towards him and if his life would have unfolded differently. Then, he realized there was no point in dwelling on something that couldn't be remedied.

It also dawned on him that he'd been holding Sansa in his arms much longer than would be deemed appropriate for any sibling or cousin to do. He didn't want to think how good Sansa felt in his arms, how her body seemed to fit just right against his, or how good she smelled. Regardless, his mind went there anyway.

Despite that, he still did not let her go. Not even when his thoughts bordered, and quite possibly bypassed, inappropriate. He still didn't let her go even when her breath on his neck caused a stirring inside him. He wouldn't, no - he couldn't let her go. Not unless she released him first.

"Jon? I can't let you go. Tell me… that I have to." She whispered, somehow echoing his own thoughts as she tightened her arms around his back and buried her face deeper against his neck.

"Gods, Sansa, I... I can't let you go either. I know that I should. Believe me, I do, but I cannot. You have to tell me to release you." His voice came out with urgency, despite tightening his hold on her as well.

"I won't." She told him resolutely, and he felt himself harden at her words.

Gods! He yelled in his head. She must not realize how her words affect me. If she knew, she'd be disgusted and horrified - He thought.

He maneuvered his lower body a slightly farther away from her. He knew that she was his cousin and that his feelings weren't exactly prohibited, but he knew she still believed him to be her half-brother. He hadn't yet found the right time or the courage to tell her his truth.

"If you won't have me release you, are we to remain standing here all night?" He asked her, trying to lighten the mood somehow, and divert his mind from the ideas circling.

She didn't answer, not verbally anyway. Her response came in the form of a kiss she placed on the side of his neck, almost making him groan. That kiss seared through his skin, and he felt the burn all the way to his groin. It was the sweetest torture.

She has no idea, she couldn't possibly imagine - he thought to himself.

He wanted to rock himself against her, his body cried for him to do so, but he remained completely still. He shut his eyes tightly as his breath quickened, so he concentrated on trying to breathe slower.

"I'm sure that was wrong of me to do because you're my brother, but I ... was that … okay?" She asked timidly and he noticed her voice had deepened as her breathing sounded labored as well.

"Why did you do it?" He asked her, truly curious, without answering her question and still unable to correct her about not being her brother.

"I don't rightly know. I just feel ... I feel ..." She didn't finish her reply, instead placing another kiss on the same spot of his neck, but it was open-mouthed so she could taste him.

That time, he did groan and gasped her name before sliding his arms from her upper back, down to her waist and tightened his hold around her body. After which, she slid her arms from around his back, and up his chest to wrap them around his neck.

"What… What do you feel?" He asked her, desperately needing to know.

"You, I feel you, Jon. I feel happiness and sorrow. I feel joy and apprehension. I feel safe, Jon. You make me feel safe and I haven't had that since before Father was killed. I feel everything exploding within me, all at once. But most of all, right now I feel a sort of energy itching to get out. I want... more." She tried to explain in hopes that he could identify the feeling for her.

"I know it's not Lady-like and I've never felt it before now. You're what I feel, what I smell, what I taste." She punctuated her words with another open mouth kiss and tiny lick on his neck, which made him tremble slightly.

"I don't even know precisely what it is or what it means. I do know that, not only can't I let you go, I don't want to Jon. I do also know it's not as a sister should feel or behave towards her brother, but I … can't make myself stop or care." She confessed to him as she let her fingers scrape against his scalp while spreading tiny kisses around his neck.

"I think you feel it too, or else you would have pushed me away. Tell me you know what this is, Jon." She softly demanded.

"Aye. I know what it is." He told her as he slid his cheek from the top of her head, to the side of her face. "It is desire, Sansa. It's lust, and I feel it too." He whispered into her ear causing her flesh to pebble.

"So, it is wrong then, for us to feel this way?" She asked breathy, but that didn't stop her from kissing up his jaw.

Even if it was wrong, she was glad he didn't seem to want to stop her. In fact, he kissed just below her ear, which made her moan appreciatively.

"It can be. But no, it's not wrong. We should stop and talk. I can explain why that is, if you'd like." He responded, running his hands across her lower back and open mouth kissing her neck enthusiastically, which caused her to moan prettily against his neck.

"Glad there's a reason and I'd like to know it ... later." She replied delighted at his words, but not curious enough to stop their actions.

She slid her lips to the edge of his, without actually kissing him. She was daring him to take the next step, but leaving it up to him. He closed the distance between his lips and hers, both of them moaned at the contact. When he slid his tongue against her lips, she gasped and quickly opened her lips to him.

They kissed slowly but passionately, both exploring the new sensations they were creating with each other. Neither of them aware that Ghost had left Jon's bed, and went to guard the entrance. Just as neither of them really noticed they'd started moving. Sansa felt the bed behind her knees and let herself fall back onto it, pulling Jon down on top of her. She was thrilled when their new position didn't deter him from kissing her.

Sansa was even more pleased when the hands that were gripping her waist, began to wander. She was growing to love the feel of his hands on her, as well as the taste of his skin and his kisses. One of his hands caressed its way to her rib-cage, which felt good in a womanly way, so she breathed a sigh into their kiss.

They both moaned when she arched her back to rub her breasts against his chest. His other hand slid down from her waist, onto the outer side of her thigh. It should have scandalized her, at least she thought it should. Instead, she not only allowed his grip on her thigh, but in an effort to bring him closer, she opened her legs and hooked that leg over his. That position ignited something else, something hotter, for both of them.

She was momentarily glad for the time she spent pretending to be a bastard, because it meant others spoke more freely around her. When he bucked into her, she knew exactly what the hardness she felt was. She used what she'd heard maids talk about to her benefit, and rolled her hips against him in return. That caused him to groan from deep in his chest and into her mouth, as his hips bucked again and again. With her hips moving in time with his, his hardness seemed to press a spot that made her moan out loudly while he grunted roughly against where he was kissing her neck, almost wanting to bite.

"Sansa, I don't want to stop, Gods know it. But if we don't slow down, I will lose what little control I have left." He warned her, pulling his face away from her for the first time.

He looked down at her beautiful face and saw her eyes shining brightly. Those vivid Tully-blues were filled with trust for him. She breathed in deeply and released her breath slowly, then smiled up at him. She had things to get off her chest as well, and that was as good a time as any. She sat up properly, so he moved off her and sat beside her, while never letting her of her hands.

"Since leaving Winterfell, I've been forced to watch as they beheaded our father only feet from where I stood. Afterwards, I was forced to look upon his head on a spike beside Nan's, and the rest of Father's men. Then, came the constant public ridicule, the beatings, and I was left to almost be raped during a city riot." She breathed hard as she spoke, and he was getting worked up as well.

"I was married off to an Imp against my will, and then accused of regicide. All of that was just during my stay in Kings Landing, Jon. It was all from a despicable excuse of a king, his royal family and his court. I wanted to die every day, and only the Gods know why I was spared." She shook her head sadly.

"Since leaving there, I've been forced to live as a bastard daughter to a manipulative man. A man, that I now know had a hand in Father's death. The same man that I watched kill my Aunt Lysa before my eyes. The very same that I eventually learned was slowly poisoning my little cousin, just to gain the power of The Vale. That man forced his disgusting kisses upon me and called me Cat every now and then, also made sure I believe I had no choice because I was his. That same man gave me away to an even more monstrous man than any I'd encountered before." She released a hard breath and gripped Jon's hands to keep him in place, because he looked about ready to explode.

"Petyr already had The Vale and knew that I'm the heir to Riverrun after my uncle, my aunt and mother died. It was Petyr's ploy to have me marry Ramsay to acquire Winterfell, then remove Ramsay from the picture. With me as heir to Winterfell and Riverrun, he'd join that power to his at the Veil as well." She spat angrily, but she wasn't done.

"Jon, do you know why all of these things were done to me?" She asked while looking into his eyes with her red-rimmed ones.

"They were done because of my intact maidenhead, because of my womb, and because of my title. For the position, the glory and the power they coveted, whether I gave or shared them willingly or not. It was a hard lesson, but I learned it. In the eyes of the greedy, these things are a woman's only worth." She told him bluntly, then shut her eyes smiling softy again.

"Jon, for once, I want to make a decision for myself. I know exactly what this will lead to and I trust you like I trust no other. I'm choosing to give you the only things I have to give. Take it all, Jon. Take me and make me yours, so no other man could ever try again. Brother or not, right or wrong, I want you to have all of me." Sansa spoke with strong conviction, wanting Jon to believe her, and wanting him to do as she asked.

"Gods damn whoever let you believe that's all you're worth, Sansa. You're so much more! You're everything, Sansa. And, it is not wrong, I swear it to you. If you want to continue this, just know there's no going back. You'll be mine, Sansa. Only mine, forever. Tell me you want this, that you want me." Jon told her vehemently, squeezing her hands in his.

"Yes, Jon. Gods, yes! You're all I want... just you. You said so yourself, you stole me. You gave me your cloak at the Godswood, and you vowed to protect me. Now make love to me as a husband would a wife. Make me yours, Jon. This, you, us … it is all I want." Sansa replied, lying herself down and tugging him down beside her, as Jon let her words fill him with encouragement.

"How very Northern Wildling of us!" Jon exclaimed with a chuckle that made her laugh before capturing her mouth into another heated round of kissing.

Her words lit a fire inside him, so with both of their minds made up, he began undoing the laces at the back of her dress as she undid the laces of his trousers. They worked rapidly and efficiently, and were both naked in no time. No shame or apprehension could be seen from either of them, for they both loved and trusted each other.

Their eyes appraised the other and he noted a few bruises and old scars which he planned to kiss and inquire about later. She noticed the scars around his chest and abdomen, the proof of what he'd miraculously managed to survive. They reached for each other and Jon nuzzled her nose with his, causing her to giggle softly. She lifted her hand to his cheek sweetly, and he leaned his face against her palm as he smiled at the beautiful woman in his bed.

They kissed softly and sweetly, enjoying the warmth of their naked bodies. They explored with their hands and their mouths, then their need quickly escalated into more passionate groping and deeper kisses. His hand went between her legs to check her readiness, and she let her legs fall open for him. She really liked the feel of his fingers there, so she hooked her leg around his hip, indicating that was as ready for more.

There might have been a lot left to discuss between them, but all that would have to wait. Nothing would stop Jon from making love to his beautiful wife.

A/N: Good ending or does it need more? You all decide and let me know. LOL