Interval

Chapter Thirty-three

Interval

Ramsay grimaced as he felt Sansa working herself around inside of him understanding immediately that Sansa wasn't finished with him in this way. His orgasm had subsided, and with the loss of sexual euphoria came the familiar panic Ramsay felt regarding this activity. It began to ripple through him like a rising tide leaving Ramsay unsure how to react. Seeing Sansa so excited was appealing, and he wanted to continue enduring this for her, but the discomfort from being stretched and prodded after his release made him feel everything being done to him much more acutely. He felt an immediate sense of losing control that he couldn't tear his mind away from, and unable to quietly brave it any longer, Ramsay murmured urgently, "Lady Sansa I…" he started, but his words broke collapsing in his throat. He was unable to wholly articulate his internal want to flee from the invasion she continued to put upon him and was unsure how best to express his distress without ruining the moment.

Ramsay didn't have to, what words he had stumbled out were enough for Sansa to take heed of her senses and still. She lifted her head in alarm to take in Ramsay's expression realizing instantly that she was overstepping her bounds. Her face contorted apologetically; Ramsay was no longer enjoying what she was doing as she'd assumed from his gyrations. No, he was very much feeling the opposite Sansa quickly realized taking in how his brow crinkled in worry, and a wave of strain amplified from his countenance. Sansa lifted herself from Ramsay's chest and pulled back her hips to ease her glass cock out, and Ramsay gasped in relief as his body shuttered from the sudden expelling.

Sansa apologized in a nervous gush, "I got a little carried away misreading your movements to be pleasure not soreness; forgive me." Ramsay's eyes fluttered as the feeling of no longer having her phallus inside of him settled the fear that had begun to fester within him. He had fretted that Sansa would ignore his incoherent plea and continue taking from him to fulfill the need still burning within her. He had been almost sure that Sansa would respect his wish to stop, but Ramsay still remained affected from the previous wounds done leaving a small part of him that couldn't help but to have his doubts. He stared at Sansa now taking in her troubled expression; it felt surreal to have such concern continuously directed at him from her. It colored Ramsay's feelings towards Sansa with a renewed sense of trust and reverence stronger than which he had felt towards her before. Realizing that he'd left her statement hanging in the air, Ramsay quickly blurted, "You've nothing to forgive. No harm was done. I… I was besieged into inaction when I should have spoken sooner," Ramsay's lip curved upward into a small grin and his brow lifted signifying that that the relationship had not been injured.

Seeing Ramsay's reaction left an immediate alleviation to flow through Sansa as she smiled back at him brightly, "Good; I'm glad to hear that." She pulled her attachment out of herself and inched off the bed giving Ramsay a shy smile, "I'm going to go wash up; I'll be back shortly with a washcloth for you," she didn't wait for a response as she hurried across the cold stone floor towards the tub. Ramsay watched her go feeling a small stirring in his loins fixating on the way her hips and flanks shook in that distinctive grace that a woman portrays. Having cum twice rather recently though, Ramsay was feeling mostly sated, and his cock did not rise to attention although a rush of blood did make him inflate and twitch slightly in response to the visually appealing image.

In Sansa's absence, Ramsay's thoughts drifted back to the events that had just transpired; he didn't know how to feel about what Sansa had done to him. On one level the fact that she had gotten him off multiple times was very sexually pleasing, but the way she had attained that goal left Ramsay feeling somewhat queasy to accept. He wanted to deny that his body had responded positively to Sansa stimulating something internally while penetrating him deeply, and that when he'd climaxed that continued sensation had sent shockwaves of gratification through him that he'd never known. Between what Sansa had been doing to his member and the probing within, the combined effort had brought about an orgasm that had left Ramsay almost unbearably sensitive. It had pulled everything from his balls, no forced everything from his balls with no restraint. He could not have held back if he'd tried (and he had!) The feeling had left him mentally stunned and lost to the rapture of the moment.

Now that it was all said and done, Ramsay's ego swirled about poking holes of resistance and rejection to the idea that he should or could have enjoyed what Sansa had done to him. His mind reasoned that no man should like such deviancy done to his person, and that it had to have been other factors at play to have brought him to such euphoria. His earlier convictions to damn what others would think came flooding back upon him, and suddenly the thought of anyone else knowing what Ramsay had given Sansa reaped a bout of shame upon him that colored his cheeks crimson. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sansa's feet padding back across the floor towards the bed, and his startled gaze shot up to take her in as if she'd snuck up on him.

Sansa's brow crinkled in curiosity to see this reaction in Ramsay as she slid her glass piece back into the nightstand holding out a moistened washrag for Ramsay to take. She queried quizzically, "Are you alright?" Ramsay blinked regaining his composure as he nodded grimacing lightly as he grabbed the proffered washcloth that Sansa offered him. He cleared his throat as he stated brusquely, "Yes. I'm fine." Ramsay was sullen evading Sansa's gaze by busying himself with the task of wiping his chest and stomach clean before tentatively dabbing at his sore entrance still tender from Sansa's ministrations.

Sansa frowned at Ramsay's tone as she countered briskly, "You don't sound fine. I'm not a mind reader, Ramsay; if something is bothering you, spit it out." The harshness of Sansa's reply sent a prickle of fear through Ramsay who realized quickly that he was moving into dangerous territory with her. He paused taking in the possible threat while processing her statement concluding that he wasn't really upset with Sansa; he couldn't be since he had given her a pass to do what she willed with him. No, he was letting his pride swell and create a rift between them; Ramsay didn't want that either. He was at a loss to how he felt, and the confusion painted his face in misery as he shook his head, "I have nothing to say."

Sansa sighed tiredly taking in his expression unsure herself how to proceed from his response. Silently, Sansa maneuvered back into the bed and began drawing the sheets back up and over the both of them as Ramsay flung the used rag upon the floor. Once the two were covered, Sansa sidled up next to Ramsay who remained flat on his back staring at the ceiling. She stared at Ramsay a long moment trying to discern what he was thinking and how best to approach him when he was obviously feeling vexed. Her hand reached out stroking the side of Ramsay's face gently, and Ramsay's attention finally turned fully to her although his expression was an unreadable mix of discouragement and uncertainty. His eyes softened to her touch though melting to the attention and listening raptly as Sansa softly spoke, "You don't have to say anything, Ramsay. I can tell you are conflicted; I may not know from exactly what, but I can assume that it revolves around us and what we have done here," Sansa's features twisted to concern as she questioned pointedly, "I didn't hurt you did I?"

Ramsay's own mien shifted as he shook his head, "No, that's not it. I… you didn't hurt me." He grunted in frustration as he grumbled, "I don't know the words for how I'm feeling. I'm not very good at these sort of talks," Ramsay lost eye contact staring down into the sheets scowling for his lack of being able to communicate what he really wanted to say. Sansa cupped Ramsay's chin bringing his face back up to hers and gracing him with a tender smile, "That's okay. We can work on that. For now, why don't we get a little rest and speak on it later. I don't know about you, but I'm rather exhausted from this day's events and would enjoy taking a respite with you by my side."

Ramsay's eyes widened at yet another show of trust Sansa was granting him with an offer to sleep in her bed by her side. His frown disappeared instantly replaced by a wide flash of white as he replied cheerfully, "I would like that very much, my lady." Sansa was pleased to see Ramsay seemed happy again, and it propelled her to lean in and kiss him lovingly as Ramsay responded in kind. Sansa wrapped her arm around Ramsay's chest possessively tugging his body closer and pulling Ramsay onto his side while Sansa spooned her own frame to mold around his. Sansa's grip grew tighter around Ramsay as she kissed his shoulder, back, and neck finally settling herself comfortably in the nape of his neck. Ramsay didn't mind Sansa's aggressiveness here, and in fact, he inwardly welcomed the attention basking in the covetous hold she held him in. It felt good to be wanted and embraced. Ramsay took in a deep breath letting it out slowly as his eyelids drooped lulled by the warmth he felt from both Sansa's body and the closeness this connection generated. To be nestled like this was a different kind of warmth that spread through Ramsay's being and left all his nerves tingling with a sense of calming that put all other reservations he had felt moments ago out of mind completely. Ramsay wanted to be nowhere else than in this moment here and now.

Sansa snuggled Ramsay with small intermittent squeezes expressing her fondness for him as the two fell into silence once more. This time the quiet they shared was not filled with an unease as to where Ramsay and she stood and how their intended encounter would pan out. Sansa had been so afraid that what she wanted was not destined to work out, that Ramsay would not fold to her ambitions to have him in the way she'd most desired, but he had. Sansa had observed Ramsay in the throes of their shared passion, and she could see the longing he had exuded for her. Sansa had been invigorated by it, and to see it in Ramsay's face as she worked inside of him had made it more than worth taking her time to gain the reward of Ramsay giving himself willingly to her.

Her mind now drifted over the past couple weeks thinking on all that had brought them to forge this relationship and how very unlikely it was to have occurred at all. The mere thought of it weeks prior would have been absurd, laughable even, but now it was a reality. With this development, there was much to consider in the coming days, but from the alarming start to her day, a ten-day ride across the expanse of the North, the harried visit with Ramsay's mother, a standoff with the Umbers, and a long sexual foray, Sansa was physically and mentally depleted. Her last thoughts wandered over the scent of her oils that still clung richly to Ramsay's fair skin and how pleasant it was to clutch his body tightly to her own. It didn't take long before both had fallen fast asleep.

***…***

A sharp knock rang through the chamber, and both lovers were abruptly roused. The light had fled from the sky leaving the barest traces of shrinking daylight fading over the hillside, and it took a moment to orient herself as Sansa blinked away the fog of sleep. She felt Ramsay shifting beneath her fully alert to the intrusion, and she laid a hand on his shoulder to still his momentum to rise from the bed, "Stay here; I will see who has come." Ramsay had peered back at her over his shoulder as she'd addressed him, and Sansa smirked giving him a quick peck on the cheek before rolling out of the bed. The chill in the air had increased, and Sansa made haste grabbing her robe from the bed's post to wrap it about her tightly as another knock resonated through the room a little more loudly. Sansa bounded to answer the door feeling a sense of urgency from the summons.

Creaking the door, Sansa peered out with a bit of annoyance and apprehension; it wasn't many who would come to disturb the lady of the keep in her bed chambers. Seeing whom it was though, Sansa smiled, "Jon!" Jon seemed immediately relieved to see Sansa appear; when she hadn't answered the first couple soft raps on the door, he had knocked on the door harder and then harder yet still. He and Ramsay had come to an understanding, but the liberties Sansa was taking with Ramsay now were more than dangerous if the man had been pulling the wool over their eyes. It was a possibility that Jon could not deny, and as much as he wanted to believe Ramsay was changing, there was many atrocities Ramsay had committed that sent waves of anxiety through Jon knowing Sansa was alone with him unmonitored and unhindered.

Jon had been informed when the evening shift guards had come to relieve Cecil and Temeric from their post that neither they nor the prisoner was in the dungeon. It hadn't taken much to discern where Sansa had taken Ramsay, and Jon had simply led the guards to Sansa's chamber door where they were debriefed and filled in on the current standing and orders given from Lady Sansa. Jon had not stayed long enough to hear any of the details not wanting to know more than he had to regarding the awkward sexual relations the two were embarking upon. Jon had made a point though to stop by the kitchens to inform them to set the secluded dining table he and Ramsay had made a ritual of eating at nightly for three. His worries abated seeing his sister greet him, and Jon smiled back warmly, "I'm sorry if I've disturbed you. I came to inform you that I've had the servants prepare a small fair for us in the study."

Sansa beamed her gratitude, "That sounds wonderful; I'm quite famished," her brow furrowed as she thought of Ramsay, "When you say us, did you wish for it to be just you and I?" Jon answered plainly, "No, I hadn't dismissed the idea that you may wish to talk privately, but I had thought it would be best after we break bread. Ramsay and I… we have been dining together in your absence," Jon finally smiled, "I'm glad to have you home safely."

Sansa's brow rose in amusement, "Thank you Jon; it's more than good to be home. We will make ourselves ready and join you in the study soon." Jon gave a simple nod of acknowledgement before turning to leave. Sansa's grin widened as she shut the door; she hadn't expected this bit of news and was growing more and more curious as to what exactly Jon and Ramsay had spent their time together doing while she was away. She had been surprised at Jon's earlier statement regarding Ramsay and he getting along so well. Much had transpired in a short amount of time, and she had wanted to see Ramsay badly, so the conversation had not been elaborated on. The more Sansa was learning though, the more eager she was to personally see the two interact. Since taking back the keep, neither Stark had been in the room with Ramsay together, so dinner was sure to be interesting.