The torches flickered against the massive walls of Harrenhal as the feast reached its peak. The great hall buzzed with laughter and music, wine flowing as freely as the conversations. Brandon Stark, tall and wild with his dark hair falling over his shoulders, threw his head back in laughter at something Robert Baratheon had said. His eyes caught sight of his younger brother Eddard, who was doing what he did best - standing in a corner, nursing his cup of wine, and stealing glances at the most beautiful woman in the room. Ashara Dayne moved like poetry among the dancers, her haunting violet eyes occasionally meeting Ned's, making the young wolf blush and look away.
"Seven hells, little brother," Brandon strode over, clapping a heavy hand on Ned's shoulder. "If you stare any harder at the lady, your eyes might fall out of your head."
"I'm not staring," Ned muttered, his cheeks reddening further. "And keep your voice down."
"Oh? Then what do you call that moon-eyed look you've been giving her all evening?" Brandon's voice carried deliberately, making several heads turn. "The mighty Eddard Stark, who can face any man in combat, but trembles at the thought of asking a lady to dance." Ashara, who was within earshot, hid a smile behind her hand. Her dark hair cascaded down her back as she pretended not to hear.
"Brandon, please..." Ned pleaded, but his brother was already in motion.
"Lady Ashara!" Brandon called out, his voice booming across the hall. "My brother here is too honourable to say it, but he's been admiring your grace all evening. Would you do him the honour of a dance?" The hall seemed to quiet as Ashara turned, her violet eyes twinkling with amusement. Ned looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
"Is this true, Lord Eddard?" she asked, her Dornish accent making his name sound like music. Before Ned could stammer out a response, Brandon gave him a forceful push forward. Ned stumbled slightly, finding himself mere inches from Ashara. The scent of her perfume - jasmine and something exotic - made his head spin.
"I... yes, my lady," Ned managed, finding his courage. "If you would do me the honour."
Ashara's smile could have lit up all of Harrenhal. "The honour would be mine, my lord." She extended her hand, and Ned took it, his touch gentle despite his calloused warrior's hands. Brandon watched with satisfaction as his brother led Ashara to the dance floor. The musicians struck up a new tune - slower, more intimate. Ned's initial stiffness melted away as Ashara drew closer, her hand warm in his.
"Your brother is quite... direct," Ashara murmured, close enough that only Ned could hear.
"Brandon has never been one for subtlety," Ned replied, surprising himself with a small smile.
"And you, Lord Eddard? Are you always so reserved?" Ashara's violet eyes captured his, and suddenly the great hall of Harrenhal seemed to blur at the edges. The music faded to a distant hum, and Ned felt his heart thundering against his ribs like a war drum.
"I... well, that is..." he stumbled, his throat suddenly dry. Her perfume was intoxicating, jasmine mixed with something uniquely Dornish that made his head swim. "Most would say... that is, at Winterfell, they often..." Ashara's lips curved into a gentle smile, encouraging him. Her hand squeezed his slightly as they turned in the dance, and Ned nearly missed a step.
"Take your time, my lord," she whispered, drawing imperceptibly closer. "We have all night."
The suggestive undertone in her voice made his cheeks burn hotter. "Gods, I'm making a fool of myself," he muttered, then realized he'd said it aloud and flushed even deeper.
Ashara's laugh was like silver bells. "Not at all. I find your honesty refreshing, Lord Eddard. In King's Landing, men practice their flowery words in mirrors for hours. But you..." she studied his face intently, "every emotion plays across your face like summer clouds over the mountains."
"Brandon says I'm terrible at hiding my thoughts," Ned managed, finding his voice at last. "He says I'd make the worst player at court."
"And what thoughts are you failing to hide now, my lord?" Ashara's eyes sparkled mischievously as they swayed to the music. Her thumb traced small circles on his palm where their hands joined, sending shivers down his spine.
"I..." Ned swallowed hard. "I'm thinking that you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he blurted out, immediately wishing he could take back such a forward statement. "Seven hells, I apologize, my lady. The wine must be..."
"Must be making you speak truth instead of courtesy?" Ashara finished for him, pressing slightly closer. The proper distance for a court dance was all but forgotten now. "Tell me more of these thoughts you can't hide, Lord Eddard." Her free hand had somehow found its way to the nape of his neck, fingers playing with the hair there. Ned felt dizzy, but not from the wine.
"I'm thinking," he said hoarsely, surprising himself with his boldness, "that I wish this dance would never end. That I wish we were somewhere else, somewhere without all these eyes..." He stopped abruptly, mortified at his own words.
But Ashara's eyes darkened with interest. "The gardens are lovely at night," she murmured. "And much less crowded than this hall. After this dance, perhaps..."
"Yes," Ned breathed, then caught himself. "I mean, if you would do me the honour, my lady..."
"Ashara," she corrected softly. "When you stumble over your words so charmingly, you must call me Ashara."
"Ashara," he tested the name, loving how it felt on his tongue. "I'm not... I'm not usually like this. You make me forget myself."
"Good," she whispered, her lips close to his ear. "Perhaps I want to see what lies beneath all that famous Stark reserve. The wolf beneath the honour."
Ned's hand tightened involuntarily on her waist. "You shouldn't say such things," he managed, his voice rough. "I might start to believe them."
"Perhaps that's my intent." Her violet eyes held a challenge now. "What would you do then, Lord Eddard?" Before he could answer, the music changed to a livelier tune. They stood frozen for a moment, still held close, neither wanting to break the spell. From across the hall, Brandon's booming laugh broke through their private world. Ned looked up to see his brother raising a cup in their direction, a knowing grin on his face.
"Your brother looks entirely too pleased with himself," Ashara observed, making no move to step away despite the changed tempo.
"He'll be insufferable after this," Ned agreed, finding it easier to speak now, though his heart still raced at her proximity. "He'll tell everyone how he had to practically throw me at you to get me to dance."
"And did he?" Ashara's fingers were still playing with his hair, sending pleasant shivers down his spine. "Have to throw you at me?"
"He might have needed to push a little," Ned admitted with a small smile. "I've never been good at... at this. At knowing what to say to beautiful women."
"You're doing quite well now," she assured him, then added in a whisper, "Though I meant what I said about the gardens. Sometimes the sweetest words are spoken in silence."
Ned felt his face flame again, but he held her gaze. "The gardens, then? After this dance?"
"After this dance," she confirmed, and her smile held promises that made his pulse race. "Unless you're too reserved for midnight walks, Lord Eddard?"
"Not tonight," he said softly, surprising himself again. "Tonight, I think I could be as bold as Brandon." Ashara's laugh shimmered through him like warm honey as she pressed closer. The new tune was faster, requiring more intricate steps, but somehow they stayed in perfect rhythm. Ned found himself smiling - actually smiling - as they moved across the floor.
"You're quite graceful, my lord," Ashara observed, her violet eyes dancing. "For someone who claims to be so reserved."
"My sister Lyanna," Ned explained, executing a perfect turn that brought them face to face again. "She insisted we all learn properly. Said she wouldn't have her brothers shaming the North at court."
"Remind me to thank her," Ashara murmured, her fingers squeezing his shoulder. "Though I suspect she didn't teach you to hold your partner quite this close during a Riverlands reel."
Ned realized with a start that he had indeed drawn her closer than the dance called for. "I... should I..."
"Don't you dare move away," she whispered, and the heat in her voice made his chest tight. "Unless you're afraid of causing scandal?"
"Let them talk," Ned heard himself say, surprising them both. His hand splayed slightly at her lower back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the silk of her gown. "I find myself caring less and less what anyone thinks tonight."
"My, my. The quiet wolf shows his teeth at last." Her smile was radiant as they spun through the steps. "Speaking of scandal... I believe you promised me a walk in the gardens?"
The music was building toward its finale. Ned's heart hammered so hard he was sure she must feel it. "At your pleasure, my lady."
"Ashara," she reminded him softly. "And my pleasure would be now, if you're brave enough."
As the last notes faded, Ned took a deep breath and offered his arm with a formal bow. "My lady Ashara, would you honour me with your company in the gardens? The night air is... most refreshing."
Her laugh was bright as she placed her hand in the crook of his arm. "So courtly now! But yes, Lord Eddard. Lead on."
They made their way toward the great doors, passing Brandon who was now deep in his cups. "Well done, little brother!" he called out, making several heads turn. "Show the lady your wolf blood!"
Ned felt his face flame, but Ashara just laughed and drew closer to his side. "Your brother is... memorable," she said as they stepped into the torch-lit corridor.
"That's one word for him," Ned muttered, then caught himself. "I apologize for his..."
"Don't," Ashara cut him off gently. "Never apologize for someone who brought us together, however... creatively he managed it."
They walked in comfortable silence through the corridors of Harrenhal, their footsteps echoing off the ancient stone. The music from the great hall grew fainter, replaced by the sound of crickets as they approached the garden doors. "I should warn you," Ned said as they paused at the threshold, "the gardens aren't as grand as those in King's Landing or Sunspear."
Ashara turned to face him, her hand still on his arm. "I'm not interested in the gardens, Lord Eddard."
The torchlight caught the purple of her eyes, making them seem to glow. Ned felt his breath catch. "What... what are you interested in?"
She stepped closer, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body. "I think you know. I've seen how you look at me when you think I'm not watching. Like you're memorizing every detail."
"I am," he admitted hoarsely. "I keep thinking this must be a dream. That I'll wake up and..."
"Not a dream," she whispered, her free hand coming up to touch his cheek. Her fingers were soft against his skin. "Though I must admit, I've dreamed of this since I first saw you arrive at Harrenhal. So serious, so honourable... I wondered what it would take to make you smile. Really smile."
"You," Ned said simply. "It takes you."
Her breath caught at that, and something in her eyes changed. "The gardens, my lord?"
"The gardens," he agreed, pushing open the heavy door. The night air was indeed refreshing, heavy with the scent of night-blooming flowers. Moonlight silvered the paths between the hedgerows, and somewhere in the distance, a nightingale sang.
Ashara's hand slipped from his arm to find his fingers, intertwining them. "Show me your favourite spot," she said softly. "Show me where you go to think when the court becomes too much." Ned squeezed her hand gently and began to lead her down a winding path. His heart was still pounding, but now it was with anticipation rather than nervousness. For once in his life, he didn't want to think about consequences or propriety or what anyone else might say.
The moonlight cast dappled shadows through the leaves as Ned guided Ashara along the winding path. His palm was slightly sweaty against hers, but she found his nervousness endearing, especially paired with the determined set of his jaw. "There's a place," he said softly, his northern accent thicker with emotion, "just past these rose bushes. I found it the first night here, when the feast was too..." He trailed off, searching for words.
"Too overwhelming?" Ashara supplied gently, drawing closer to his side. "I've noticed you prefer quieter spaces."
"Aye," he admitted, throwing her a grateful look. "Brandon thrives in there, with all the noise and politics and..." He gestured vaguely with his free hand. "But I prefer to hear myself think." They rounded a corner, and Ashara gasped softly. A small stone bench sat in a circular clearing, surrounded by night-blooming jasmine. The moonlight created a natural spotlight, and the air was heavy with sweet perfume.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, letting him lead her to the bench. When they sat, she deliberately pressed her thigh against his, hiding a smile when he tensed then forced himself to relax.
"Like you," Ned said, then immediately ducked his head. "Gods, that was... that sounded better in my head."
Ashara reached up and turned his face toward her. "Look at me, Eddard." His grey eyes met hers, full of uncertainty and barely contained longing. His pulse jumped visibly in his throat.
"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" she asked softly, her thumb tracing his jawline. "Not just honour and duty, though those are there. I see passion kept carefully in check. I see kindness. I see..." she leaned closer, "a man who thinks deeply about everything he does."
"I'm not..." he swallowed hard. "I'm not experienced in... this. Whatever this is. You must think me a green boy."
"I think you're refreshingly genuine," she corrected, her other hand finding his again. "Do you know how many men have tried to court me at this tourney alone? All practiced lines and calculated moves, like some elaborate game of cyvasse."
Ned's brow furrowed. "But surely... I mean, you're so beautiful, and graceful, and..."
"And tired of men who see me as a prize to be won," she finished. Her fingers moved from his jaw to the nape of his neck, playing with his hair again. "You look at me like I'm a wonder you can't quite believe exists. Like every smile I give you is a gift."
"They are," he breathed, then looked mortified at his own boldness.
Ashara laughed softly, the sound melding with the nightingale's song. "See? That. That right there. No calculation, no practiced charm. Just truth."
His free hand came up hesitantly, hovering near her face as if afraid to touch. "May I...?"
"Please," she whispered, and his fingers trembled slightly as they traced her cheekbone.
"Your skin is so soft," he murmured, wonder in his voice. "Like silk, or... or fresh snow when it first falls."
"Have you kissed many girls in the snow, Lord Eddard?" she asked teasingly, turning her face into his touch.
His blush was visible even in the moonlight. "No, my lady. I haven't... that is..."
"None at all?" she asked gently, no judgment in her tone.
"There was a serving girl at Winterfell, once," he admitted. "But it was... clumsy. Quick. Nothing like..." he gestured between them with his free hand.
"Nothing like this?" Ashara leaned closer, until their breaths mingled. "Nothing like wanting someone so much your whole body aches with it?"
"Yes," he gasped, his eyes dropping to her lips then back to her eyes. "Gods, yes. I've never... I've never felt anything like this."
"Show me," she whispered against his lips. "Show me how much you want this." For a moment, he hesitated - the weight of his honour, his inexperience, his natural reserve all warring with desire. Then something shifted in his eyes, and his hand slid from her cheek into her hair, cradling the back of her head with infinite tenderness.
"Like this," he breathed, and kissed her. It was unpracticed, yes, but the raw emotion behind it made Ashara's heart flutter. His lips were soft, questioning at first, then growing bolder as she responded. When she parted her lips slightly, his sharp intake of breath was the sweetest sound she'd ever heard.
When they finally parted, his eyes were wide with wonder. "Was that... did I..."
Ashara pressed her forehead to his, smiling. "Perfect," she assured him. "Absolutely perfect." His answering smile - shy but radiant - made her heart turn over in her chest. This was no practiced courtier, no jaded nobleman playing at love. This was pure, unfiltered joy, and it was more intoxicating than any wine.
"Would you... might I..." he started, then took a deep breath and tried again. "May I kiss you again?" In answer, Ashara wound her arms around his neck and pulled him close. The nightingale's song swelled around them as their lips met again, and this time, when Ned's arms wrapped around her waist, there was nothing hesitant about it at all.
The moonlight bathed them in silver as their kisses deepened. Ashara's fingers threaded through Ned's hair, guiding him gently as she taught him the dance of tongues and teeth. His initial hesitation melted away with each passing moment, replaced by an eager attentiveness that made her smile against his lips. "Like this," she whispered, demonstrating a gentle nibble on his lower lip that made him gasp. "See how good that feels?"
"Gods," he breathed, his arms tightening instinctively around her waist. "Ashara..." She loved how he said her name - like a prayer, like something precious. His hands were strong but gentle on her back, and she found herself melting into his embrace. Despite his inexperience, there was something fundamentally right about how he held her.
"You're a natural at this part," she murmured, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "The way you hold me... not too tight, not too loose. Like you want to keep me safe but not cage me."
Ned's cheeks flushed, but his eyes held hers steadily. "I would never want to cage you. You're like... like a falling star. Beautiful because you're free."
The raw honesty in his voice made her heart skip. She traced his jawline with her fingers, feeling the slight stubble there. "Where did you learn to say such perfect things?"
"I'm not trying to... that is, I'm not good with words like Brandon or Robert. I just..." he swallowed hard. "I just say what I feel."
"That's exactly why they're perfect," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. This time, he met her halfway, and the confidence in his movement sent a shiver down her spine. His hand splayed across her lower back, supporting her as she shifted closer. The stone bench was forgotten as she practically climbed into his lap, her skirts rustling in the night air.
"Is this... am I..." he started to ask between kisses.
"Perfect," she assured him again, nipping at his lower lip. "You're doing perfectly." His response was a low sound in his throat that surprised them both. One of his hands found its way to her hair, mimicking how she had guided him earlier, and the gentle tug made her gasp.
"Sorry," he said immediately, starting to withdraw his hand.
"Don't you dare," she caught his wrist, keeping his hand in her hair. "I liked it. I like everything you're doing."
"Everything?" His voice was hoarse, his eyes dark with desire but still carrying that hint of uncertainty that made her heart melt.
"Everything," she confirmed, pressing herself closer. "I like how you touch me like I'm precious but not fragile. I like how you're learning so quickly what makes me respond. I like..." she kissed along his jaw, feeling his pulse race, "how you're letting yourself feel everything without trying to hide it."
His hands tightened on her reflexively. "It's hard to hide anything from you," he admitted. "I don't think I want to."
"Then don't," she whispered against his ear. "Show me everything you're feeling. Every reaction, every desire..." He turned his head to capture her lips again, and this time there was nothing hesitant about it. His kiss was deep, hungry, though still maintaining that inherent gentleness that seemed to be his nature. One hand stayed protectively at her back while the other tangled more confidently in her hair, and when she sighed into his mouth, his whole body shuddered in response.
"Ashara," he breathed when they parted for air. "I never knew... I never imagined..."
"What didn't you imagine?" she asked softly, running her fingers through his hair.
"That it could feel like this. That someone like you could want someone like me. That I could feel so... so..."
"Free?" she suggested, understanding in her eyes.
"Yes," he said wonderingly. "Like all the rules and expectations just... don't matter anymore. Like nothing matters except this moment, here, with you."
She smiled, touching his face tenderly. "The quiet wolf finds his voice at last."
"Only with you," he said seriously. "Only for you." The truth in his words made her breath catch. This was dangerous territory - this wasn't just desire any more, wasn't just teaching a shy young lord how to kiss. This was something deeper, something that made her heart race for reasons that had nothing to do with physical attraction. But as Ned pulled her close again, his arms creating a safe haven that somehow felt like home, Ashara found she didn't care about danger. Let the consequences come tomorrow. Tonight was for moonlight and jasmine, for teaching and learning, for watching the honourable Eddard Stark slowly let himself fall into passion, taking her with him.
Ashara sighed contentedly against his lips, marvelling at how different this felt from any of her previous encounters. Where others had been all technique and practiced moves, Ned's inexperienced but heartfelt attention sent shivers through her entire body. His hands trembled slightly as they held her, and that vulnerability, paired with his obvious desire to please her, made her heart flutter.
"You're thinking," he murmured against her lips, pulling back slightly. His grey eyes searched her face with touching concern. "Have I done something wrong?"
"Quite the opposite," she assured him, running her fingers through his hair. "I was just thinking how different you are."
His body tensed slightly. "Different because I'm... not as experienced as other men you've..."
"Shhh," she pressed a finger to his lips. "Different because you're real. Because every touch, every kiss comes straight from your heart." She replaced her finger with her lips, kissing him softly. "Because you're not trying to impress me with practiced moves or empty flattery."
"I wouldn't know how," he admitted with a self-deprecating smile. "I'm sure compared to other men you've known, I must seem very..."
"Perfect," she interrupted, shifting in his lap to look directly into his eyes. "You must seem perfect. Do you know how rare it is to find someone who kisses like every touch is a gift? Who holds me like I'm precious but not property?"
His hands flexed unconsciously on her waist. "I... I just want to make you feel good. To show you how much I..." he swallowed hard, that adorable blush creeping up his neck again.
"How much you what?" she encouraged gently, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"How much I feel," he finished in a whisper. "Everything. When you're near me, when you smile at me, when you kiss me... it's overwhelming. Like my heart might burst." Ashara felt her own heart skip at his words. She'd been kissed by princes and lords, by experienced lovers who knew exactly how to please a woman. But none of them had made her feel like this - this strange mixture of desire and tenderness that made her want to both devour him and protect him at the same time.
"Kiss me again," she whispered. "Show me how you feel." His eyes darkened as he leaned in, and though his technique was still unpracticed, the emotion behind it made her toes curl. His tongue tentatively sought hers, and when she responded encouragingly, the sound he made was pure need.
"Is this... am I doing it right?" he asked between kisses, ever concerned with her pleasure.
"You're doing everything right," she assured him, arching slightly as his hands splayed across her back. "The way you touch me... gods, Ned..."
His breath hitched at hearing his name like that. "Tell me," he said hoarsely. "Tell me what you like. I want to learn everything about you."
The earnest desire to please her, combined with his obvious arousal, made her head spin. "I like this," she guided one of his hands to her hair. "When you pull just slightly... yes, like that..."
He repeated the motion, watching in wonder as she gasped. "And this?" he asked, his other hand drawing patterns on her lower back.
"Perfect," she breathed. "Everything you do is perfect because it's real. Because I can feel how much you want me, how much you care..."
"I do," he said fervently. "More than I can say. More than I should, probably..." She silenced him with another kiss, deeper this time. When they parted, both breathing heavily, she rested her forehead against his.
"Don't think about should or shouldn't," she whispered. "Just feel. Feel how our hearts are beating together. Feel how right this is."
His hand moved to rest over her heart, and the innocent intimacy of the gesture made her eyes sting unexpectedly. "Like thunder," he murmured. "Your heart's beating as fast as mine."
"Because of you," she told him honestly. "Because no one has ever made me feel quite like this. Not just here," she guided his hand lower, to the swell of her breast, smiling at his sharp intake of breath, "but here too," she placed his other hand back over her heart.
"Ashara," he groaned, and the need in his voice made her shiver. "I want... I don't know what I want. Everything. Nothing. Just to hold you forever in this moment." She kissed him again, pouring all her feelings into it - the desire, yes, but also this new tenderness that made her chest ache. His response was eager but still gentle, still so perfectly Ned that it made her want to cry. Ashara reluctantly broke their kiss, noting how the moon had climbed higher in the sky. The night air had grown cooler, making her shiver slightly in her thin silk gown.
"It's getting late," she whispered, running her thumb across his swollen lips. "Will you escort me back to my chambers, my lord?" Ned's eyes widened slightly at the invitation implicit in her tone, but he stood with that innate grace of his, offering his hand to help her up. "Of course, my la- Ashara," he corrected himself, making her smile.
As they walked through the moonlit gardens, their fingers intertwined, she could feel the tension in his arm. Not just desire, but nervousness too. His thumb traced absent patterns on her hand.
"Your chambers are in the Flower Tower, aren't they?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.
"Yes," she confirmed softly. "Far from prying eyes... and wagging tongues."
He swallowed audibly. "Ashara, I... I don't want you to think that I expect..." She stopped their walk, turning to face him. In the shadows of a flowering arch, his face was a study in conflicting emotions - desire, uncertainty, hope, and that touching concern for her honour that made him so uniquely himself.
"Eddard," she said softly, reaching up to touch his face. "I'm not asking you to do anything you're not ready for. But I would like you to come up. To talk more, to kiss more... to simply be together away from the world for a while longer."
His hands found her waist, drawing her closer. "I want that," he admitted in a whisper. "Gods, I want that more than I've ever wanted anything. But I also don't want to... that is, your reputation..."
"My reputation is my own to risk," she told him gently. "And you're worth any risk."
The look he gave her then - wonder mixed with such profound tenderness - made her heart flip over in her chest. "How do you do that?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.
"Do what?"
"Make me feel like the most important person in the world with just a few words?"
She smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Because right now, you are. To me, you are." His arms tightened around her, and when he kissed her back, there was a new confidence in it - still gentle, still perfectly Ned, but with an underlying certainty that made her knees weak.
"Lead the way," he murmured against her lips when they parted. They made their way through the darkened corridors of Harrenhal, trying to stay quiet though their hearts were pounding loud enough to wake the dead. Every few steps they would stop to share another kiss, unable to keep their hands off each other for long.
At the base of the Flower Tower, Ned hesitated one last time. "Are you sure?" he asked, his grey eyes serious in the torchlight.
Ashara took his face in both hands, meeting his gaze steadily. "I have never been more sure of anything in my life," she told him honestly. "Come upstairs with me, Eddard Stark. Let me show you how special you are." His smile then - shy but radiant - lit up the darkness better than any torch. Taking his hand, she led him up the winding stairs, both of them trembling slightly with anticipation and something deeper, something neither was quite ready to name but both could feel in their racing hearts.
She drew Ned into her chambers, the door closing softly behind them. Moonlight streamed through the high windows, casting everything in silver light. His hands trembled as they found her waist, pulling her close with that perfect mixture of desire and reverence that made her heart race.
"You're shaking," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair.
"I can't help it," he admitted against her neck. "You make me feel... everything. So much I can hardly stand it." She guided his face back to hers, kissing him deeply. His response was eager but still so achingly sweet - each kiss like a confession, a prayer, a promise. His hands roamed her back, learning every curve through the silk of her gown.
"Show me," she breathed between kisses. "Show me everything you're feeling..." He groaned softly, backing her against the wall. His kisses grew more urgent but never lost that underlying tenderness that was so uniquely him. When she arched against him, he made a sound that was half need, half wonder.
"Ashara," he gasped as she nipped at his lower lip. "Gods, Ashara..." She loved how he said her name - like it was sacred, like each syllable was precious. His hands found their way into her hair, remembering how she'd shown him to tug gently, and the moan she gave in response made him shudder.
"You're learning so quickly," she praised, sliding her hands inside his doublet to feel the heat of him through his shirt. "So perfect..."
"I want to be perfect for you," he whispered, his lips trailing down her neck. "Want to make you feel as amazing as you make me feel." The raw honesty in his voice made her chest tight. She guided his face back to hers, kissing him deeply, trying to pour all her feelings into it - how special he was, how different from anyone she'd ever known.
His hands grew bolder as their kisses deepened, but still maintained that exquisite gentleness that made her want to cry. Every touch was a question, every caress an act of worship. When she pressed herself flush against him, his whole body trembled. "Is this okay?" he kept asking between kisses. "Am I...?"
"Perfect," she assured him each time. "You're perfect..." Ashara straddled Ned's lap as he sat on the edge of her bed, her skirts pooling around them. His breath hitched as she settled against him, his hands instinctively finding her waist.
"Is this alright?" she whispered, punctuating the question with soft kisses along his jaw.
"More than alright," he managed, his voice rough. "Though I can hardly believe this is real..."
She smiled against his skin, her fingers working on the laces of his doublet. "Let me prove how real it is..." His hands trembled as they roamed her back, still so careful, so reverent in every touch. When she got his doublet open, she slipped her hands inside, feeling the heat of him through his thin shirt.
"Gods," he gasped as she nipped at his earlobe. "Ashara..."
"I love how you say my name," she confessed, working the doublet off his shoulders. "Like it's something precious."
"You are precious," he said with such sincerity it made her chest ache. "Everything about you is precious to me." She pulled back to look at him, her hands resting on his chest. His eyes were dark with desire but still held that touchingly earnest expression that made him so uniquely himself.
"No one has ever looked at me the way you do," she told him softly, running her fingers through his hair. "Like I'm more than just my beauty or my name."
"Because you are," he said fervently, his hands tightening on her waist. "You're... you're everything." She kissed him deeply then, overwhelmed by the emotion in his voice. His response was eager but still so sweet, still trembling slightly as his hands explored her back, her sides, her hair.
"My sweet wolf," she murmured against his lips. "So gentle, so perfect..." His breath caught at her words, and when she rolled her hips slightly, he made a sound that was half groan, half whimper. His hands found their way into her hair, remembering how she'd shown him to tug gently, and the gasp she gave made him shiver.
"Tell me what you want," she whispered, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest through his shirt. "Tell me what you're feeling..."
"Everything," he breathed. "I want everything with you. Want to learn every inch of you, want to make you feel as amazing as you make me feel..." The raw honesty in his voice, combined with the way his hands shook as they held her, made her heart flip over in her chest. She kissed him again, deeper this time, trying to show him with actions what words couldn't express.
His shirt was next to go, and when she ran her hands over his bare chest, the sound he made was pure need mixed with that touching vulnerability that made him so special.
"May I...?" Ned whispered against her lips, his fingers ghosting over the laces at her back.
"Please," she breathed, guiding his hands more firmly to the ties. "I want to feel your hands on me..." His fingers trembled as he worked at the laces, occasionally fumbling in his nervousness. She kept kissing him softly, encouragingly, her hands caressing his forearms, feeling the tension in his muscles.
"Take your time," she murmured when he made a frustrated sound. "We have all night..."
"I'm sorry I'm so clumsy," he said, his cheeks flushing. "I've never..."
She silenced him with another kiss. "Don't apologize. I love how new this is for you. Love watching you discover everything..."
His breath hitched as he finally loosened a few laces, revealing more of her skin to his touch. "You're so soft," he whispered in wonder, his fingertips trailing down her spine.
Ashara arched into his touch, sighing contentedly. "That feels wonderful," she encouraged. "You're doing perfectly..." His confidence grew slightly with her praise, though his hands still shook as he continued with the laces. Each new inch of skin revealed made his breath catch, and the pure wonder in his expression made her heart flutter.
"Is this real?" he murmured, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder as he worked. "Are you real?"
"Very real," she assured him, running her fingers through his hair. "Feel my heart racing? That's because of you..."
He pressed his palm flat against her chest, feeling her heartbeat. "Like a drum," he said wonderingly. "Matching mine..." The laces finally came loose enough for her dress to slip slightly, revealing more of her shoulders and upper back. Ned's hands stilled, his eyes wide with awe as he took in the sight.
"You're so beautiful," he breathed. "So incredibly beautiful..."
She guided his hands back to her skin. "Touch me," she whispered. "I want to feel your hands on me..." His touch was feather-light, exploring newly revealed skin with trembling reverence. When she shivered under his caress, he looked up at her with such vulnerability it made her chest ache.
"Like this?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing patterns on her back.
"Just like that," she assured him, leaning in to kiss him deeply. "Everything you do feels perfect..." His hands grew slightly bolder as they continued kissing, though they never lost that exquisite gentleness that made him so special. Every touch was a question, every caress an act of worship.
"I never knew," he murmured between kisses, "that anything could feel like this..."
"Like what?" she asked softly, helping him with another stubborn lace.
"Like... like my heart might burst. Like every touch is both too much and not enough. Like I'm dreaming but I never want to wake up..."
She cupped his face in her hands, meeting his eyes in the moonlight. "Not a dream," she promised. "This is real. We're real..." His response was to kiss her again, pouring all his emotions into it - desire, wonder, and something deeper that neither of them was ready to name, but both could feel in their racing hearts.
The dress continued to loosen under his careful attention, each new revelation met with kisses and gentle touches that made Ashara's head spin. Ned's breath caught audibly as Ashara's dress slipped away, the silk pooling around her feet in a whisper. The thin shift she wore beneath did little to conceal her curves, the moonlight making the fabric almost translucent.
"Oh gods," he breathed, his hands frozen on her waist. His grey eyes were wide with wonder as they took in every detail. She smiled at his reaction, loving how he couldn't seem to decide where to look - her face, her curves, back to her face again, as if afraid to be caught staring too long at any one place.
"You can look," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. "I want you to look..."
"I... you're..." he swallowed hard, his hands trembling against her sides. "I don't have words for how beautiful you are."
The pure awe in his voice made her heart skip. She guided his hands to her hips, where the shift clung to her curves. "Show me then," she encouraged softly. "If you don't have words, show me..." His touch was reverent as his hands slowly explored her shape through the thin fabric. When his thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts, he gasped softly.
"Is this... am I...?"
"Perfect," she assured him, arching slightly into his touch. "Everything you do is perfect..."
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against her collarbone as if overwhelmed. His breath was warm against her skin through the shift. "I can feel your heart racing," he murmured.
"Because of you," she told him, tilting his face up to kiss him deeply. "Because of how you make me feel..." His hands grew slightly bolder as they kissed, though they never lost that exquisite gentleness. When she shifted in his lap, the friction made him groan against her lips.
"Ashara," he gasped. "Gods, Ashara..." She loved the way his hands spanned her waist, how his thumbs traced absent patterns on her sides. The shift had ridden up slightly, revealing more of her legs, and his eyes darkened at the sight.
"You're trembling," she noted softly, feeling the quiver in his touch.
"How could I not?" he replied with disarming honesty. "You're... this is... I never imagined..." She kissed him again, deeply, trying to pour all her feelings into it - how special he was, how different from anyone she'd ever known. His response was eager but still so perfectly sweet, still so perfectly Ned.
"Touch me," she whispered against his lips. "Explore me... I want to feel your hands everywhere..." His breath hitched at her words, but his hands began to move with more purpose, though still maintaining that touching reverence. Every new curve discovered made him gasp softly, every sigh she gave seemed to embolden him further.
Ned's eyes went wide as saucers as Ashara pulled the shift over her head in one fluid motion. Her midnight hair cascaded down as she removed the pins and ribbons one by one, falling in dark waves past her shoulders to the small of her back.
"Seven hells," he breathed, looking like he might actually faint. His hands trembled where they rested on her hips. Her fair skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, all graceful curves and soft valleys. Her breasts were full and perfect, nipples peaked in the cool air. Her waist was slim, flaring out to womanly hips, her stomach flat and toned from years of dancing.
"Breathe, my sweet wolf," she teased gently, running her fingers through his hair. "You're looking a bit pale..."
"How can I breathe?" he managed, his voice rough with desire. "You're... gods, Ashara, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen..." Her hair fell around them like a dark curtain as she leaned down to kiss him, the silken strands brushing his chest. When she pulled back, his eyes were glazed with wonder.
"Your hair..." he whispered, reaching up to run his fingers through it. "Like midnight silk..." She smiled, loving how he seemed overwhelmed by every detail. His hands shook as they explored her bare skin, tracing the curve of her waist, the arch of her spine, the swell of her breasts.
"Is this real?" he breathed against her collarbone. "Are you real?"
"Very real," she assured him, guiding his hands to her breasts. "Feel how real I am..." The sound he made was somewhere between a groan and a whimper. His thumbs brushed her nipples experimentally, making her gasp.
"You can touch them," she encouraged softly, seeing how his hands hovered uncertainly. "I want you to..." His fingers trembled as they cupped her breasts, testing their weight with reverent wonder. The softness seemed to overwhelm him - his breath came in short gasps, his grey eyes wide with awe.
"They're so..." he swallowed hard. "So perfect. So incredibly soft..." When his thumbs brushed her nipples again, more deliberately this time, she arched into his touch with a soft moan. The sound made him shiver.
"Like that?" he whispered, circling the sensitive peaks. "Does that feel good?"
"So good," she assured him, running her fingers through his hair. "You're a natural..." His confidence grew slightly at her praise. He explored each breast with careful attention, learning what made her gasp, what made her sigh. When he rolled her nipples gently between his fingers, she threw her head back with a moan.
"Gods, Ned..."
"I love the sounds you make," he confessed, his voice rough. "Love knowing I can make you feel good..." She guided one of his hands to her breast again, showing him how to squeeze just so. His other hand explored on its own now, growing bolder but never losing that exquisite gentleness.
"They fit my hands perfectly," he murmured in wonder. "Like they were made for me..."
"Maybe they were," she breathed, pressing closer. The heat of his palms against her sensitive flesh made her dizzy with want. His thumbs traced circles around her nipples, watching in fascination as they hardened further. When she whimpered, his hands stilled.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No," she assured him quickly. "Gods no. That feels amazing..." The relief in his smile made her heart flutter. He resumed his gentle exploration, every touch a question, every caress an act of worship. When she ground against him, his hands tightened reflexively, making them both gasp.
"I never knew," he breathed against her neck, "that anything could feel this perfect..." She guided his face up for a deep kiss, loving how he never stopped touching her, learning her, worshipping her with those trembling hands.
"I want to feel your mouth," she whispered, guiding his face to her breast. His breath was hot against her sensitive skin as he hesitated for just a moment.
"Like this?" he murmured before pressing the softest kiss to her nipple. The gentle touch made her arch and gasp.
"Yes," she breathed, her fingers threading through his hair. "Don't hold back, my sweet wolf. Let yourself enjoy..." His next kiss was bolder, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. When she moaned encouragingly, he grew more confident, alternating between gentle kisses and experimental licks that made her shiver.
"You taste like summer," he whispered against her flesh. "Like honey and starlight..."
She scratched his scalp gently, urging him closer. "That feels incredible," she assured him. "You're doing perfectly..." His mouth grew more eager as he explored, learning what made her gasp, what made her moan. When he finally took her nipple fully into his mouth, sucking gently, she cried out his name.
"Gods, Ned..." The sound seemed to ignite something in him. He lavished attention on each breast in turn, his natural instincts taking over as he lost himself in the taste and feel of her. His hands kneaded her flesh as his mouth worked, growing bolder but never losing that perfect tenderness.
"I love how responsive you are," he breathed between kisses. "Love knowing I can make you feel this way..."
She guided him to her other breast, gasping as his tongue circled her nipple. "You're a natural," she praised, her voice thick with desire. "Like you were made for this..." His response was to suck harder, making her arch against him with a moan. His hands roamed her back, her sides, always returning to cup and squeeze her breasts as his mouth worked its magic.
"Never knew," he murmured against her skin, "that anything could taste so perfect..." She could feel him trembling with need as he worshipped her breasts, each kiss and lick more passionate than the last. When she rolled her hips against him, he groaned around her nipple, sending vibrations through her that made her see stars.
"Don't stop," she pleaded, holding him close. "Please don't ever stop..." His answer was to redouble his efforts, switching between her breasts with growing confidence. Each gasp she gave seemed to embolden him further, though he never lost that touching reverence that made him so special.
"That's it," she sighed contentedly, cradling his head as he lost himself in his passionate exploration. His complete focus on her breasts was endearing - like a man finding an oasis after weeks in the desert. "You're perfect," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair as he alternated between gentle sucking and feather-light kisses. "So perfect..."
He seemed barely aware of her words, completely entranced by the taste and feel of her flesh. His hands cupped and squeezed while his mouth worked magic, each touch revealing new ways to make her gasp and arch. "I could stay here forever," he breathed against her skin. "Never knew anything could feel so..."
"Then stay," she encouraged softly, loving his innocent wonder. "Take all the time you need..."
He looked up at her with such pure gratitude it made her heart ache. "Really? You don't mind?"
"Mind?" she laughed gently. "My sweet wolf, having your mouth on me is pure heaven..." His response was to return to his worship with renewed enthusiasm. He explored every inch of her breasts with reverent attention, learning which touches made her sigh, which made her moan.
"Love how soft," he murmured between kisses. "Love how perfect they fit my hands..." She held him close, letting him set his own pace. His innocent wonder was more arousing than any practiced technique could ever be. The way he lost himself in pleasuring her, forgetting everything else in his desire to taste and touch...
"You're so good to me," she praised, scratching his scalp gently. "So perfectly gentle..."
"Mmm," she hummed appreciatively as his tongue slipped between her lips, his newfound confidence making her head spin. His fingers tangled in her dark hair, tugging just enough to make her gasp with pleasure.
"You're a quick learner," she praised breathlessly between kisses. Her hands found his belt, fumbling with the heavy buckle. "But you're wearing far too many clothes..."
"Sorry," he murmured against her lips, not sounding sorry at all as he deepened the kiss again. His grip in her hair tightened slightly, making her moan.
"Don't apologize," she whispered. "Just help me with this damn belt..." His free hand joined hers at his waist, though he seemed reluctant to stop kissing her. When she nipped his lower lip playfully, he groaned and tugged her hair again, harder this time.
"Gods, Ashara..."
"Like that, do you?" she teased, finally getting the belt loose. "Finding out what you enjoy?" His response was to kiss her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth with growing confidence. She could feel his heart racing against her bare chest as she worked at the laces of his breeches.
"These need to go," she breathed, tugging at the fabric. "Want to feel all of you..." e shuddered at her words, his kiss becoming more passionate. The hand in her hair guided her head to the perfect angle as his tongue danced with hers. His breath hitched as her hands worked at his breeches. When she rocked against him deliberately, he tugged her hair sharply, making them both gasp.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
She silenced him with another deep kiss. "Don't apologize. I like it... like feeling how much you want me..." His eyes darkened at her words, and this time when he kissed her, there was nothing hesitant about it. His tongue claimed her mouth as his hand fisted in her hair, the perfect blend of passion and tenderness that made him so special.
"Oh," she breathed, her eyes widening appreciatively as she freed him from his smallclothes. "Oh my..." Brandon hadn't been exaggerating after all about the virility of the Stark bloodline. Ned's manhood stood proudly at attention, thick and impressively long. The sight made her mouth water.
"Is... is something wrong?" he asked anxiously, misinterpreting her pause.
She laughed softly, wrapping her fingers around his impressive girth. "Wrong? My sweet wolf, everything is very, very right..." His breath hitched at her touch. His cock was perfect - straight and thick, with a gorgeous head that was already glistening with need. When she gave him an experimental stroke, he groaned deeply.
"Gods, Ashara..."
"The Old Gods were very generous with you," she purred, loving how he throbbed in her hand. "Very generous indeed..."
He blushed adorably even as his hips jerked into her touch. "I... I never really thought about..."
"Well I'm thinking about it," she teased, continuing her gentle strokes. "Thinking about all sorts of things..." His cock twitched at her words, another drop of moisture beading at the tip. She couldn't take her eyes off it - the way it curved slightly upward, the prominent veins running along its impressive length, the way it seemed to grow even harder under her admiring gaze.
"Seven hells," she breathed, "you're magnificent..." His response was a strangled groan as she explored him with curious fingers. When she circled her thumb around his sensitive head, his whole body shuddered.
"Like that?" she asked innocently, though she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
"Y-yes," he managed. "Gods, yes..." She smiled, continuing her gentle exploration. Each touch made him twitch and throb in her hand, his impressive size making her increasingly eager to feel him properly.
"Your brother wasn't lying," she mused, giving him another appreciative stroke.
"What?" he gasped, then his eyes widened. "Brandon talked about...?"
She silenced him with a kiss. "The Stark men are apparently blessed," she whispered against his lips. "Very, very blessed..." His cock pulsed in her hand at the praise, making them both moan. The moonlight painted patterns on his skin as she continued her exploration, each moment more precious than the last.
"Oh gods," he gasped, his whole body tensing. "Ashara, I'm going to—" Before he could finish the warning, his cock pulsed powerfully in her hand. The first surge of his release caught her by surprise, painting a hot stripe across her breasts. His hips jerked uncontrollably as rope after rope of thick seed erupted from him, coating her chest and arm in pearly white.
"I'm sorry," he choked out between spasms of pleasure. "I couldn't... couldn't hold..." She watched in fascination as his impressive length continued to twitch and pulse, each wave of his climax seeming more intense than the last. His seed was hot against her skin, marking her with his passion.
"Shhh," she soothed, stroking him through the aftershocks. "Don't apologize..."
But Ned had already fallen back against the pillows, his face burning with shame. "I didn't mean to... it happened so fast..."
"Look at me," she commanded gently, waiting until his grey eyes met hers. "That was beautiful. YOU were beautiful."
"But I barely lasted..." he started miserably.
She silenced him with a tender kiss. "My sweet wolf, do you have any idea how flattering it is? How arousing to know I affect you so strongly?" He looked unconvinced, though his eyes couldn't help tracking a drop of his seed as it rolled down her breast.
"Besides," she purred, "the night is young. And something tells me..." she gave his still-hard length a meaningful squeeze, making him gasp, "that the legendary Stark stamina isn't just a myth..." His cock twitched in response, already showing interest despite his recent release. She smiled, loving how his eyes darkened with renewed desire even as uncertainty lingered in them.
"You mean... you're not disappointed?"
"Disappointed?" she laughed softly. "My sweet, innocent wolf... I'm only getting started..." She claimed his mouth with fierce passion, her tongue sweeping past his startled lips to dance with his. His surprised gasp was swallowed by her kiss as she pressed closer, one hand tangling in his hair while the other traced patterns on his chest.
"Mmmph," he managed weakly as she dominated the kiss, her tongue exploring every inch of his mouth. When he tried to catch his breath, she only deepened the kiss further, stealing what little air remained. His hands clutched at her waist, holding on as she overwhelmed his senses. She could feel his heart racing against her chest, his whole body trembling with need as she kissed him senseless. Finally, when spots were dancing behind both their eyes, she broke away. They gasped for air, foreheads pressed together as they struggled to catch their breath.
"You," she panted, pressing soft kisses to his face between words, "are absolutely perfect. Everything about you is perfect."
"But I..." he started to protest.
She silenced him with another deep kiss. "Perfect," she insisted when she pulled back. "Your innocence, your passion, your gentle heart... and especially the way you respond to me..."
His grey eyes were dark with desire as he looked up at her. "You make me feel... I never knew I could feel like this..."
"Good," she breathed, trailing kisses along his jaw. "Because you make me feel incredible things too. The way you touch me, the sounds you make, how eager you are to learn..."
He shivered as she nipped his earlobe. "I want to learn everything," he confessed. "Want to know every way to please you..."
"And I want to teach you," she purred. "Want to show you every pleasure, every sensation... want to watch you discover it all..." His breath hitched as she claimed his mouth again, this kiss slower but no less passionate. When she finally pulled back, his lips were swollen and his eyes were glazed.
"Perfect," she whispered again, tracing his bottom lip with her thumb. "My perfect, sweet wolf..."
She hooked her thumbs into the delicate silk of her smallclothes, slowly sliding them down her thighs with deliberate grace. The fabric whispered against her skin as she worked them past her knees, finally kicking them away with playful defiance. "Look at me," she breathed, spreading her legs wide. "See what you do to me..."
Ned's eyes went impossibly wide, his face flushing as he took in the sight before him. Her perfectly groomed triangle of midnight-black curls drew his gaze downward to where she was already glistening with want. Her folds were pink and perfect, like a flower blooming just for him. "I... you're..." he swallowed hard, swaying slightly. "So beautiful..."
She smiled, running a finger through her wetness. "All for you, my sweet wolf..." His breathing had gone ragged as he stared, transfixed. The perfect petals of her sex called to him like a siren's song, making his mouth water with need.
"Are you going to faint on me?" she teased gently, though she was ready to catch him if needed. His face had gone quite pale except for two bright spots of colour high on his cheeks.
"No," he managed, though his voice was strangled. "Just... never seen... gods..."
She reached for his hand, guiding it towards her heat. "Then come closer," she purred. "There's so much more to discover..."
"Here," she whispered, guiding his trembling fingers. "Like this... gentle circles..." His breath caught as she showed him how to touch her slick folds, his fingers following her lead with reverent care. When he brushed that sensitive bundle of nerves, she rewarded him with a deep, passionate kiss.
"Perfect," she breathed against his lips. "Just like that..." He was a quick study, watching her reactions intently as he explored. Each gasp and moan taught him something new, each kiss encouraging him to continue.
"Inside," she guided softly, showing him how to slip one finger into her wet heat. When he curled it just right, making her arch and cry out, she claimed his mouth again.
"Gods, Ashara..." he whispered as she clenched around his finger. "You feel like silk..." She showed him how to add a second finger, how to move them in that perfect rhythm that made her see stars. Each successful touch earned him another passionate kiss, each moan spurring him to greater efforts.
"Such a good student," she praised between kisses. "Learning so quickly..." His confidence grew with each positive response. When he found that perfect spot inside her on his own, making her gasp his name, the pride in his eyes was beautiful to behold.
"Like this?" he asked, repeating the motion. "Here?"
"Yes," she moaned, rewarding him with a deep, tongue-filled kiss. "Gods yes..." His fingers moved with growing assurance, learning the patterns that made her writhe and gasp. Each kiss seemed to embolden him further, though he never lost that perfect gentleness.
"Right there," she gasped, her hips rolling against his skilled fingers. "Don't stop... please don't stop..." His grey eyes were intense with concentration as he maintained that perfect rhythm, his fingers curling inside her just right while his thumb circled her sensitive pearl.
When he leaned down to kiss her neck, still maintaining that perfect tempo, it was her undoing. The climax crashed over her in waves, making her cry out his name as her inner walls clenched rhythmically around his fingers.
"Ned!" she gasped, her whole body shuddering with release. Her thighs quivered, her toes curled, and stars exploded behind her eyes as pulse after pulse of pleasure wracked her frame. He kept his fingers moving through her peak, drawing out her pleasure until she was whimpering with oversensitivity. Her release coated his hand as she writhed beneath him, lost in ecstasy.
"Beautiful," he breathed, watching in awe as she came apart for him. "So incredibly beautiful..."
When the last aftershocks subsided, she pulled him down for a deep, passionate kiss. "That," she panted against his lips, "was perfect. You're perfect..." She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close as pure joy bubbled up from her core. Her melodious laughter rang out like silver bells in the moonlit chamber, the sound so genuine and free it made his heart skip.
"You wonderful, wonderful man," she breathed between kisses, peppering his face with affection. Her hands couldn't stop touching him - his shoulders, his chest, his face, wanting to memorize every inch.
His smile was shy but radiant as her laughter washed over him. "I've never heard anything so beautiful," he whispered, touching her cheek with trembling fingers.
She laughed again, the sound pure happiness. "That's because you make me feel beautiful things," she told him, pressing their foreheads together. "Things I never expected to feel..." His arms tightened around her as she continued to pepper his face with tiny kisses, still giggling with delight. The sound seemed to fill the room with light, making everything glow with joy.
"Your laugh," he murmured, sounding awestruck. "It's like... like music from the heavens..."
She buried her face in his neck, still chuckling softly. "You make me so happy," she confessed. "So incredibly, unexpectedly happy..." He pulled back just enough to look at her, his grey eyes full of wonder. The pure joy on her face seemed to overwhelm him - he touched her cheek reverently, as if she might disappear.
"I'll remember this moment forever," he whispered. "The way you look right now... the sound of your laughter..."
She beamed at him, her violet eyes dancing with mirth and tenderness. "Good," she declared, punctuating the word with another kiss. "Because I plan to give you many more moments to remember..." Her laughter bubbled up again, impossible to contain, and this time he joined in - their shared joy echoing off the stone walls like a sweet melody.
"Ready for more?" she purred, feeling his impressive length pulse against her thigh. His eyes darkened with desire as she straddled him, positioning herself above his straining cock.
"Please," he breathed, his hands settling on her hips. "Gods, please..."
She smiled, lowering herself slowly onto him. The first touch of his thick head against her entrance made them both gasp. "Relax," she soothed, seeing the tension in his face. "Let me take care of you..."
Inch by delicious inch, she took him inside. His impressive girth stretched her perfectly, making her moan as she sank down. "Gods, you feel incredible..."
"Ashara," he choked out, his fingers digging into her hips. "You're so... so..."
"Shhh," she breathed, finally settling fully onto him. "Just feel..." His cock throbbed inside her as she adjusted to his size, making them both shudder with pleasure. When she rolled her hips experimentally, he made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper.
"Perfect," she praised, beginning a slow rhythm. "You fill me so perfectly..."
His eyes were wide with wonder as he watched where their bodies joined, his hands trembling on her hips. "Never knew," he gasped. "Never imagined..."
She leaned down to kiss him deeply, loving how he pulsed inside her. "We're just getting started, my sweet wolf..."
"We have all night," she whispered, rolling her hips in slow, sensuous waves. Each movement was deliberate, designed to maximize their shared pleasure. "Want to savour every moment..."
"Gods," he breathed, watching in awe as she moved above him. His hands caressed her thighs, her hips, learning the rhythm of her motions.
She leaned down to kiss him deeply, never breaking that languid pace. "Feel how perfectly we fit together," she murmured against his lips. "Like we were made for this..." His cock throbbed inside her with each slow roll of her hips, making them both gasp. When she ground down particularly deep, his fingers tightened on her waist.
"Ashara," he moaned. "The way you move..."
She smiled, maintaining that torturous rhythm. "Like this?" she purred, circling her hips just so. "Or like this?"
His response was a strangled groan as she clenched around him. "Everything... everything you do..."
"Good," she breathed, trailing kisses along his jaw. "Because I plan to do this for hours..." Each movement was a dance, each thrust a celebration of their connection. She varied her pace just enough to keep him guessing - sometimes slow and deep, sometimes quick and shallow, but always with that underlying control that drove him wild.
"You're trembling," she observed with a smile, feeling his thighs quiver beneath her.
"Can't help it," he gasped. "You feel too good..."
She rewarded him with another deep kiss, loving how he pulsed inside her. "Then let yourself feel everything..."
"Close?" she breathed, recognizing the telltale tension in his body. His hands gripped her hips tighter as he nodded desperately.
"I can't... much longer..." he gasped.
"Then let me join you," she purred, her fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. She circled it with practiced skill, never breaking the rhythm of her hips.
"Want to feel you," he moaned, watching in awe as she pleasured herself while riding him. "Want to feel you come apart..."
Her movements grew more urgent as she chased her peak, her fingers working faster. "Almost there," she panted. "So close..." His cock throbbed inside her as she clenched around him, both of them racing toward release. When she ground down particularly deep, his whole body shuddered.
"Ashara," he warned, his voice strained. "Please..."
"Yes," she gasped, her fingers moving faster. "Together... want to come together..."
"Now," she cried out, her body tensing as the pleasure crested. "Oh gods, Ned, now!" Her inner walls clamped down around him as her climax hit, waves of ecstasy washing over her. At the same moment, he erupted deep inside her with a hoarse cry of her name, his release triggering another pulse of pleasure through her core.
"Ashara!" he gasped, his hips jerking upward as he spilled himself. Each pulse of his seed seemed to intensify her own pleasure, making her cry out again and again. Stars exploded behind her eyes as she rode out her peak, her body shuddering with release. She could feel him throbbing inside her, filling her with his warmth as her inner muscles milked him dry.
"Perfect," she managed between waves of pleasure. "So perfect..." His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise as he emptied himself inside her, his face a mask of pure ecstasy. When she ground down against him, another aftershock rocked through both their bodies.
"Never knew," he panted as the intensity began to ebb. "Never imagined..." She collapsed onto his chest, both of them trembling with aftershocks. Their combined release trickled down her thighs as she pressed lazy kisses to his neck.
"That was..." she breathed.
"Incredible," he finished, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She melted into his protective embrace, loving how his strong arms encircled her completely. His heart thundered against her cheek as she nestled closer, their bodies still intimately joined.
"Mine," he whispered so softly she almost missed it, his grip tightening ever so slightly. The possessive edge in his voice made her shiver with delight.
"Mmm," she hummed contentedly, pressing soft kisses to his chest. His skin was salt-sweet with exertion, and she could feel every tremor that still ran through his powerful frame. His hands roamed her back in gentle patterns, one occasionally tangling in her dark hair. It was as if he couldn't bear to stop touching her, wanting to keep her close forever.
"Stay," he murmured into her hair, though whether he meant for the night or forever, she wasn't sure. Perhaps both. She responded by snuggling even closer, if that was possible. His cock still pulsed softly inside her, their combined release making them stick together in the most delicious way.
"Not going anywhere," she assured him, loving how his arms tightened at her words. His chest rose and fell beneath her in a contented sigh. One hand traced the curve of her spine while the other cradled her head protectively against his heart.
"We should..." she started reluctantly, though she made no move to leave his embrace.
"I know," he sighed, his arms tightening briefly before loosening. When she finally lifted herself off him, they both gasped at the loss of connection. Their combined release trickled down her thigh as she moved to lie beside him.
"The tourney..." she murmured, trailing her fingers across his chest. "Your brother rides tomorrow."
"Brandon," he nodded, though his eyes never left her face. "Though right now I can hardly remember why I care about jousting at all."
She laughed softly, leaning in to kiss him one last time. "Your father would notice your absence at breakfast."
"Let him," Ned growled, pulling her close for another deep kiss. When they finally parted, both were breathing heavily again.
"Tempting," she smiled against his lips. "So very tempting..."
His hand traced the curve of her hip longingly. "Stay just a few more moments?"
She nodded, settling back against his chest. "A few more moments..." They lay in comfortable silence, neither wanting to be the first to move. His fingers played with her hair while she traced patterns on his skin, both trying to memorize every detail of this perfect night.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked finally, his voice uncertain.
"Try to keep me away," she whispered, pressing a final kiss to his heart before sitting up. "Though perhaps not quite like this..."