Sansa settled against the silk pillows behind her, trying to get more comfortable, the cool material feeling all the more pleasant in the darkness that surrounded her. Her hands were bound above her head, and she fought the blush that threatened to spread across her face at her nakedness. She would have been mortified, if not for her brain being otherwise occupied.

The silken scarf that encircled her head did more than just block her vision, she found out quickly enough.

She was shocked at how much more powerful everything felt like this, sounds magnified, smells clearer than they ever had been before. But it was the sense of touch, that was currently driving her mad.

Touches such as the feeling of Margaery's hands ghosting over the legs, pulling her thighs apart gently. Her nimble fingers stroking up Sansa's skin to her waist, cupping her ass and moving her fingers almost, but not quite close enough to Sansa in a way that was almost maddening. She was trembling by the time Margaery's fingers finally found their way to her clit, settling in a slow rhythm that had her whimpering in moments.

Sansa gasped when she felt Margaery's hot breath against her, cried out when she flicked her tongue against Sansa's sensitive cunt. Sansa pulled her wrists forward, almost desperately trying to hold onto something, anything. The need to touch Margaery was blinding, but all she succeeded in doing was sending a jolt of pain down her wrists. She clenched her hands into fists, nails biting into her palms as Margaery hummed against her.

"Please, please," Sansa whimpered. Her voice had gone shaky, almost overwhelmed by another moan. She heard a rustle, as if someone kneeling on bed-sheets had sat up and Margaery was gone from her cunt.

"And just what is it you want, my sweet?" Her voice was silky, and Sansa could imagine her perfectly, eyes dark with lust, licking her lips clean of Sansa's own wetness.

Words didn't seem to come easily for a moment, her mind hazy. She needed more, more of Margaery, of her fingers and mouth and heat.

"I want," she struggled a moment to put it into words. "You. I need you, inside me." The last bit was a whisper, part of her still mortified to say it aloud.

There was silence for a moment, and she could swear you could almosthear Margaery smile in that smug way she had when she had gotten exactly what she'd set out to.

"As you wish." It was a low, husky murmur and it send a thrill up Sansa's spine.

Margaery was back to it in an instant, her fingers finding their way to Sansa's cunt, slipping one in slowly. Sansa bit her lip as Margaery moved it in slowly, as if Sansa wasn't already well accustomed to this. It felt like a lifetime before she added a second finger, curling them inside before drawing them out and repeating them motion again.

Her mouth was back on Sansa's clit a moment later, and all too soon she was staving off her orgasm, trying to make this last as long as she could. It was too much though, the heat and the feeling of Margaery there, lapping at her.

She heard more than felt herself give a strangled sounding moan soon enough, higher than any she had let out before as her orgasm washed over her. She could swear it was more intense than any other, leaving her a breathless mess held together by nothing more than her need for Margaery.

When her head finally cleared a bit she felt hands at her wrists, careful fingers cutting the rope loose. She moved her hands weakly to her sides, feeling that the skin was a bit raw from where she'd tugged too hard. The blindfold was next to go, and as she opened her eyes and things came into focus, the first thing she noticed was Margaery's beautiful face lit up with that token smile.