
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1977501.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin, Game_of_Thrones_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Petyr_Baelish/Sansa_Stark
  Character:
      Petyr_Baelish, Sansa_Stark, Alayne_Stone
  Additional Tags:
      Older_Man/Younger_Woman, Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Manipulation, Daddy
      Kink, Sexual_Content, Sexual_Inexperience
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-18 Words: 1567
****** I Know What You Want ******
by ChristineCan
Summary
     Sansa knows what Petyr wants and she will do whatever it takes to get
     him to admit it.
“I know what you want,” she heard the words escape her lips, shocked at how
easily they poured out of her mouth. She had known for some time now of Petyr’s
affections toward her, but had never dared to speak them aloud. But in this
moment she felt brave and empowered.  She was determined to get a confession
out of the man.
“Do you?” he said, looking deep into her eyes without giving her a hint of his
true emotions. “Tell me Alayne, what is it that I want?”
“The one thing all men want,” she said boldly.
“I’m afraid you have judged me wrongly, my sweetling. You see, I don’t want
that one thing; I want everything, every last inch of it.” Sansa watched his
eyes drop to her chest. His gaze aroused her unexpectedly, causing the buds of
her breast to stiffen behind her thin nightdress.
She would not let him win so easily. “Of course, how silly of me to think such
a clever and powerful man would be so foolish as to succumb to temptations of
the flesh,” she said. Teasing him with her words as well as her actions as she
traced her finger over the glossy bit of skin peaking out from his silk robe;
an old wound. She wondered if he bore an identical scar on his heart, and
feared for a moment she would reopen that wound if she continued to toy with
him this way. But she was insistent on proving a point, he wanted her and she
knew it. She needed to hear him say the words.
He grabbed her firmly by the wrist and held it above her head. “Control, it is
all about control. Even the most intelligent man can fall victim to a woman’s
beauty; the softness of her breasts, the delicate curve of her hips, the warmth
of her cunt.” Petyr’s free hand found its way from her shoulder to its resting
spot right below her left breast, letting his thumb trail along her every curve
on the way down. The heat of his hand and its proximity to her breast caused
her mind to grow fuzzy while her thighs grew slick.
“And what if a man loses that control? Are all his other wants forgotten?"
Petyr had gradually inched himself closer to her so his lips nearly brushed
against hers when he spoke. “Far from it, if he only allows himself but a
moment of pleasure. However, anything longer and he might very well lose
himself forever.”
She had been so enthralled in the conversation; it was not until she felt the
coldness of stone against her backside that she realized he had backed her into
the corner of her chamber.
His eyes explored her body, filling with lust before they met hers. “You are a
true beauty, my sweetling. A woman many men would certainly lose themselves
inside of. “
He removed his hand from her waist to grab hold of her other wrist; leaving
both her arms pinned to the wall behind her. She felt the full weight of his
body as he pressed himself against her. The heat of his enlarged manhood
against her sex thrilled her in ways that made her ashamed, causing her face to
turn a deep hue of red. A man’s lust was still foreign to the young girl, but
she enjoyed his excitement more than she was willing to admit. If she could not
get Peytr to tell her how much he wanted her, she would make him show her.
“But a clever man would not lose himself. A clever man knows how to control his
desire, to prevent a moment of pleasure from becoming a lifetime of lust. But
is a moment of pleasure really enough to satisfy such a man?”
“There is only one way to know for sure,” he said before pressing his mouth
hard against hers. His kisses were deep and hungry, as though her lips had
unleashed something animal in him. His tongue alternated between darting
skillfully between her lips and lightly tracing over them. He kissed her with
his whole body, running his hands down the curve of her spine and cupping her
bottom. He slid one hand down the back of her thigh till he reached the hem of
her nightdress. The fabric bunched up about her hips as his hand slid back up
her bare thigh and reached her ass once again. His other hand quickly followed
suit, exposing the milky white flesh of her rear.
His hands did not linger, but rather continued their journey upward, meeting at
the small of her waist. His long fingers nearly touched one another as his
hands encompassed her.
Sansa began to grow impatient as she felt the ache in her loins become more and
more prominent. His hands explored her body, fingers trailing all over her skin
but not yet where her body yearned for them most. She must have audibly
expressed her frustration with Petyr’s procrastination because he had suddenly
pulled away from her kiss with a smirk on his lips, “Anxious now, are we?” he
said.
Sansa blushed. Had she whined? Was she that weak to let her lady parts blur her
mind. She needed to regain control of the moment by weakening him the only way
she knew how. “Sorry, my lord. I am such a stupid girl, to let my desires cloud
my mind this way. I am embarrassed of the dampness between my legs, but you are
just so good. Perhaps it’d be best if I go.”
She tried to turn away but before she could he pinned her back against the
wall. He did so with such force it almost unnerved Sansa, nearly regretting her
decision to stir up such feelings in Lord Baelish. But before she had time to
collect her thoughts, she felt Petyr’s knee between her legs, spreading her
thighs.
He slowly lifted her nightdress until she was fully exposed, pulling it over
her head. He took a moment to admire her before placing his palm against her
sex. His fingers explored her folds, glazing herself with her own wetness. She
had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from whining again, but she didn’t
have to hold back for too long. She let out a gasp as she felt him slip one
finger inside her. At first she felt a slight discomfort in the way he felt,
but after some time passed she realized her moans had turned to ones of
pleasure. While his one hand beckoned her, his free hand fondled her bare
breast, circling his thumb around her hardened nipple. A smile spread across
his face as she closed her eyes and threw her head back in ecstasy.
“Do you like that, my dear?” Petyr questioned her.
“Yes,” Sansa managed to respond.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Father,” she said between breaths.
“Good girl,” she could hear his grin widen, even with her eyes closed.
She became so caught up in the pleasure of his expert hands; she had almost
forgotten her goal. All she had done so far was prove how much she enjoyed his
touch. She needed him express his weakness for her.
Without hesitation, she reached out and slipped her hand into his robe and felt
the heat of his manhood. It was larger than she expected and grew even more in
size when she tightened her grip. She stroked it lightly, not quite sure what
she was doing or how it should be done. Although, the look on Petyr’s face and
his shortened breath was all the confirmation she needed to know he was
pleased. There was darkness in his eyes when he looked up at her; darkness she
had never seen before. The intensity of his pleasure stirred something inside
her. Power; she felt powerful as she caused this cunning man to lose control
with a flick of her wrist.
But as soon as he seemed to begin to really enjoying himself, he pulled away
from her. “I’m afraid I must leave,” he said abruptly.  
Sansa was confused, “Did I do something wrong?”
Petyr’s smirked, “No, of course not, sweetling. It is just that my moment of
pleasure is nearing its expiration and I fear I am on the verge of loosing
myself. You see, I want you my darling. More than you could imagine. But as I
said before, I want many things. Things that require me to keep my wits, which
I very well might lose if I allow myself to remain here with you any longer.
And that would be bad for the both of us. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”
Sansa returned his smile, internally claiming victory in her challenge, “Of
course not, Father.”
“Good. Glad to know we are in agreement. Goodnight, Sansa.” Shocked to hear him
call her by her true name, she almost forgot to respond.
“Goodnight Petyr.” As he closed her bedroom door a wild grin spread across her
face. She liked to think all of what she had done was to get him to confess,
but a dark part of her mind knew it was more than that. Petyr had awakened the
woman in her and she craved more. She would have to utilize this newfound
desire, as she did earlier. After all, Petyr did say he wanted many things.
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