— “one little kiss,” sandor repeated with an intentionally dramatic roll of his eyes. if she was to engage in yet another game of repartee, then once more, he was not about to make winning EASY for her. “you kissed me like you were DROWNING,” the male taunted, not able to know that his words were direct reflections of what the female had been thinking– consciously or otherwise– during the night of the party. “….and i was the AIR.” somehow, despite the fact that even he was delving into infrequently chartered grounds, his common blush was yet to arrive, and to color his cheeks. perhaps it was because he felt SAFE with her. like she would not tease or bully him, like so many women had in the past. “it’s like you said. if you were on your knees, you’d only reach my thighs.” dark eyes flitted back down to the outline of sansa’s mouth. she had sweet, supple lips to gaze at. although, sandor had to give the woman credit. when they collided with his own, she had just the edge that he craved. “so we’ll have to get CREATIVE. prop you up somehow.” for now, all of their chatter was simply that. it was make-believe, securing the purpose of riling each other up. and generously, that of BONDING. until such an intimate moment may transpire though, sandor would operate under some level of disbelief that such a beautiful, powerful, and tender-hearted female could desire the likes of him. not only as a LOVER, but potentially as a partner. it was all too good to be true. the remnants of some adolescent fantasy that he’d dreamed of at night to distract from his brother’s bullying, and his father’s concealing of gregor’s harsh acts. “oh, i would show you all of the time, QUEEN sansa.” he couldn’t help but use the later label that she’d assumed. after all, it more adequately represented who she was. A QUEEN. “and when have you known my TALK to be all that impressive?” he asked teasingly. arching an eyebrow, he asked her– half-seriously, half-prodding– “are YOU all talk, my lady?”
“i WAS drowning. i was drowning —” she kissed over his face, his burn marks, his scars, she did not care. sandor had given himself to her. he was hers. “in a sea of people i don’t know, i don’t like. all i can see is you.” she breathed, kissing down his jawline. “so you are the AIR and i’m not ashamed to admit i went to the party wanting you to kiss me. i dressed so you would NOTICE me. i cut a slit in the dress because i wanted your EYES ON ME.” she could not believe how raw and candid she was becoming but she felt so secure in his arms. perhaps him holding her gave her a new confidence from a different perspective but she wanted him to know everything. “i went in there ACTUALLY with the intent to bed you but i got nervous to follow through.” she said looking to him. “so no, my puppy, i am not ALL TALK. i am desperately craving to give you the action i so talk about.” all of which was true, she longed to have him...the small issue was she had no idea how to TAKE HIM. he was a six foot six giant so she couldn’t exactly push him down and hop aboard, nor would she really want it that way. she needed him to help her initiate because sansa was clueless on how to. “so what do you say to that?”
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