Bolton Rising Part 70 - Peytr & Alayne

Little Bird…” Petyr whispered softly, peering down at the young woman crying at his feet, his heart aching at her misery. “Do you remember our first night together? You gave me such a precious gift…” Baelish reached down, placing two fingers under Alayne’s wet chin and lifted her beautiful face, teary eyes meeting his paternal gaze. “Your untouched body, a girl’s pure innocence, and your trust I would never hurt you."

The Mockingbird took Alayne by the upper arm and helped her to her feet. He could feel his lover trembling under his touch. “Did I not vow to always keep you safe?” he questioned while smoothing Alayne’s red locks of hair back, tucking a wispy red curl behind her ear, letting his fingers caress the shell of the girl’s ear and down her neck. "Perhaps you are my only weakness in this world and that is a very dangerous proposition for a man like me. So, I must know everything that is going on or you endanger us both.” Petyr spoke with a calm but serious tone, hiding his anger perfectly, yet his inflection warned the girl not to trifle with their lives.
Alayne did not know what to do. She could not imagine losing Petyr, or worse, hurting him. She knew he loved her more than anything in the world. Alayne also knew he could be ruthless, it was a part of him which she'd never witnessed firsthand, however, she had heard whispers of the things that happened to people who crossed Petyr Baelish. What would he do to her, or have done to her? What would he have done to Sandor Clegane if he knew?
"I can't... I'm sorry Petyr..." she began. "Please, I don't deserve you. I don't deserve any of this." She looked around at her luxurious surroundings. "I should go. You deserve so much more, someone so much better..." Alayne pulled away, turning and crossing the room to open her closet door. Grabbing a bag, she began to fill it with a few of her belongings, sobbing as she pulled on a pair of jeans and fumbled as she tried to pull a sweater over her head. "I'll go to a hotel... I'll... You won't need to worry about me anymore... I'll always love you... Petyr."

Littlefinger stood by the bedroom door and frowned slightly as Alayne packed her things to make an escape, rather than face him with her actions. “You must have me confused with someone who would just let you go." He slammed the door shut and locked it, strolling towards his lover, a dark jealously lashing out as he grabbed Alayne by the wrist. "I expect answers and I will have them any way I deem necessary.” Petyr's grasp continued to squeeze until the girl cried out and dropped the bag, before forcing her against the wall and caging Alayne in with his body.

“Do I need to punish you to have my answers Little Bird?” Baelish pressed, his free hand collaring Alayne by the neck, while grey-green eyes darkened with a mixture of proprietorship and carnality. “I see now, I’ve been too soft hearted with you... only because it gave me such pleasure to spoil you. Like a father doting upon his beloved daughter. But you are a woman now, Alayne. The one I longed for in my dreams to be my wife and I won’t allow you to ruin that future."

"Please, Petyr, you're hurting me!" she gasped and he loosened his grip, but only a little. He would not let her go. For the first time since she had met him, Alayne felt afraid of Petyr. Until today, the thought had never crossed her mind that he would ever physically harm her. Now there was so much anger in his eyes that she began to tremble all over. Littlefinger, they called him. There was no one in business or in politics who was more successful, who had more power than this man. He had the world wrapped around his little finger. Although he rarely showed anything but charm, there were many people who were afraid of him. Now she could see why.

"I would rather leave than say words that I know will hurt you, Petyr. I never wanted to hurt you," she whispered. "Do you want to hear that I was unfaithful to you? That I love someone else, in the same way that I love you? Because I do love you, Petyr. That has not changed. It never will."

The Mockingbird pulled his hands away as she spoke, for once at a loss for words and a facade to cover the depth of his wounded emotions. ‘Don’t go... You said you were mine!’ The words rose from the depths of his mind, an old memory forged in pain, long forgotten but so familiar. Petyr stared at Alayne, her face wavering over another’s, like a mirage of someone he should know, lost and never recovered.

“I have no need to know any more. I can guess who
it is you speak of.” Petyr grabbed his coat, unlocking the bedroom door and throwing it open. He turned slightly, but didn’t face Alayne directly, she had been allowed to see too much already. “This is no game I play with you, yet I have been made the fool nonetheless. Wherever you go, Alayne, I will make him suffer… and suffer greatly.”

Littlefinger walked out and called for the car, ignoring anything else Alayne said as he made his way to the elevator. He turned around as the doors began to close, catching one finally glimpse of his “Little Bird” as she pleaded for the Dog’s life, smirking softly because despite Alayne's betrayal, he still loved her.

"Petyr please, it's my fault. Punish me, but let him go..." Her words fell on deaf ears, but she did not know what else to do. Her head spinning, she followed him to the door, pleading for mercy, pulling at his ​​sleeve, but he brushed her away. ​​She felt dizzy as she watched the elevator doors close, cutting her off. ​​Her bag was half packed. She should go... but where? Alayne's heart pounded as though it was trying to break though her chest.

He knows, he knows, he knows.

Running through the dark penthouse, she called for the Hound, but he was not there. He'd been there when she went to bed. Had he heard? Did he know? Alayne ran back to the bedroom and scrambled around in her bag until she found her phone. Her hands shook so hard she could barely slide the unlock screen. She hesitated a moment then, before touching Sandor Clegane's number, not knowing what to do or what to say. Where are you?
The phone rang and rang before finally going through to voicemail. Not his voice, just the default message. It could have been anyone on the other end of the line. "Where are you? He knows. He's looking for you. Please call me... I love you..." she whispered.

Walking slowly back out into the darkened living room, she crossed to the bar, poured herself a tumbler of Petyr's scotch and carried the glass out onto the balcony. Just a few hours ago she had been standing in this very spot, looking across the city at the light in Petyr's office. Now her entire world was crumbling around her and she felt numb all over. She tipped the scotch back, swallowing it quickly, shuddering at the burn, but finding some small amount of solace in the knowledge that she could feel something, even if it was more pain. She balanced her glass on the railing and looked down at the lights of the cars below. Without thinking, she reached out and pushed the tumbler off the railing, watching it disappear into the darkness. Alayne leaned over the railing. The drop was so great that she could not hear it when it hit the ground and shattered.
I wish the Hound were here. Staring down into the dark, she waited.


Bolton Rising Part 69 - Gregor and Melly

A shirtless Gregor stomped around the spacious kitchen as quietly as a man his size could, grunting and cursing in sheer frustration as he opened one cabinet or drawer after another, grabbing ingredients and utensils haphazardly. Gas burners on the stove roared with flames, a pot boiled over with water, while a pan sizzled with crackling bacon, and a large flat skillet burned over-sized pancakes. The stove's overhead hood worked overtime to vent all the smoke, while the building heat made the Mountain break out in a sweat, the morning light casting a soft sheen over his slick chest, cut biceps, and defined abs leading to the low slung jeans over his pelvis.

The kitchen had always been his woman's domain. Melly could cook up a meal like no other, and the Mountain's appetite demanded a feast every time they sat down to eat. But today, he would return the favor and treat his woman to a meal of his own making. Clegane opened the fully stocked fridge and almost yanked the double doors off the hinges, scowling as he reached for the spare egg carton, concentrating on not crushing such fragile things with the strength in his large hands again. The pack of guard dogs paced restlessly, wagging their tails and barking, following Gregor everywhere he went, expecting their own breakfast as well. "I said QUIET, damn beasts," he growled, ordering them all to sit as the dogs whined in reply, salivating for food. The Mountain flipped the burnt hot cakes onto a giant stack already gone cold and poured more lumpy batter, determined to make a perfect set to feed his woman.

"Now let's try this again..." Gregor opened the egg carton and stared at the twin rows of eggs, his thick fingers plucking one out gently, willing the shell not to crack, before dropping it into the pot of boiling water. He smirked in satisfaction, confident he could poach an egg after boiling through half a dozen. As the Mountain went to drop another, he grunted in sudden pain and crushed the egg, yoke spilling through his fingers, adding to the mess already on the counter-tops. Gregor glared downwards at the black fur ball clawing her way up his long leg, little razor anchors digging into his jeans, while the soft squeak of a meow came forth. "Didn't I leave you upstairs sleeping with Melly? Just one night and you're already taking over my bed." Clegane cleaned his hand before plucking the small terror off his thigh and cradling the purring kitten. All the dogs peered upwards at their intimidating Master, perplexed but interested in this tiny brave creature playing with Gregor's scolding finger.

The sound of a distant crash followed by deep, mumbled cursing coming from the first floor of the house brought Melly slowly out of a deep, restful sleep. For a moment she was afraid; the memory of the Mountain's absence and his brother's unexpected assault flashed through her mind. She found herself alone in the room. Gregor, the dogs, and even the kitten were nowhere to be seen, however, she could see the indent in his pillow and the bed covers tossed back on his side of the bed. She sighed, closing her eyes in relief. It was early yet, and understanding that it was her man who was the source of the noises from below, she was just about to turn over and allow herself to drift off for a little bit longer, when she smelled the faint odor of smoke wafting into the room. 


"What on Earth..?" she thought, as her sleepy brain tried to make sense of what could be happening. Coming fully awake, she sat up in bed and listened. "Oh no!" Tossing back the comforter, she scrambled out of bed and pulled an over-sized T-shirt over her head before hurrying into the hall and down the stairs. She paused in the doorway to the kitchen, surveying the damage, running a hand through her sleep-tousled hair. It seemed that Gregor had removed all the pots and pans from the cupboards. Towers of used bowls and utensils filled the sink, and the counter-tops were strewn with broken egg shells, burnt toast and strangely shaped stacks of what might have been hot cakes, all covered with a fine coating of flour. In the middle of all of this stood Gregor Clegane, his massive form making everything else appear to be small, like a playhouse kitchen made for dolls or children. He held the kitten in his huge hand, stroking its tiny head with his index finger, while pots overflowed on the range top and the smoke detector began to emit a shrill whistle.

"Gregor! Better open some windows!" She hurried into the kitchen, slipping in front of him, switching off burners and flipping the stove's exhaust fan on high. "Are you... making breakfast?" she asked, biting her lip to suppress a giggle as he moved to throw the windows open and turn off the smoke alarm. The rest of the world would never understand; they would never know 
her Mountain. He was her benevolent protector, her savoir, her perfect mate. It was true, of course, that he had a ruthless side. He could be cruel if he needed to be, but never to her. He couldn't help his roughness, but he would never hurt her on purpose. He turned to her, frowning, a smear of flour across his chest, and she smiled, crossing the room to him. "Why didn't you wake me?" she asked, leaning in to kiss the little ball of fluff he still held. 

"I thought you would be pleased by a surprise breakfast. Isn't that what normal couples do?" Gregor replied, sliding his free arm around Melly's waist and pulling her in closer to him. "I overheard that talk show you were watching the other day." Since his return, the Mountain had been more protective, perhaps even too overbearing, but Clegane's need to keep Melly safe was riding him hard. The fact that his younger brother Sandor had dared to violate his home, kill one of his beloved dogs, and even put a disgusting burnt hand on Melly made Gregor's blood boil with a dangerous rage.

The Mountain would hit the gym every time dark thoughts of his woman being taken by that Dog sexually clouded his thinking. Unleashing monstrous anger and frustration through a pair of massive fists, he would punch the workout body bag till it broke and flew off the hanging chain, smashing into the wall. Several now laid in a giant heap, too broken and destroyed to be saved. Gregor always visualized his dead beaten brother in their place. Afterwards, the Mountain would seek out his woman, fucking Melly senseless with a raw brutal passion, thrusting his claim on her until every drop of semen was milked from his balls. It didn't matter where he found her or what Melly was doing at the time; Gregor's stomping footsteps and her name called out in a growl clearly announced his desired intentions. Melly's complete and utter submission time and again quelled the lingering dark shadow inside Clegane's soul, the one full of masculine dominance and proud entitlement that would never stop if she ever refused him.

"We don't really need to be a normal couple," she answered, smiling up at him. "I think we're perfectly abnormal. But I love it that you take such good care of me. Of us." She stroked the tiny kitten, who purred softly in the Mountain's giant hand and glanced at the dogs who were gathered around, patiently watching their master. "I'm so glad you're home," she whispered, leaning into him, suddenly overwhelmed by her need for his support.

After Gregor had taken away her from Ramsay Bolton, her readjustment to living freely had been long and slow. Her physical wounds had healed, but her mind had taken much longer to recover. There was relief at being alive, at being free, coupled with the confusion of her love for Ramsay, because despite her terror of the Bastard, she loved him and mourned the loss of him. She was not brave to have made her escape from the Bolton compound, this she knew all too well. It was not bravery, but desperation, which finally pushed her to the point of flight. It was the knowing that she would be caught and the desire to have it all, finally, come to an end. Melly understood that she could never survive the punishment for running, and that by fleeing, she was, in essence, committing suicide. She had not been prepared for the Mountain's intervention and freedom was not something she had considered even remotely possible. Gregor had saved her, allowed her to mend, and never once had he put any restrictions on her movements. Although not normally a patient man, his patience with her seemed infinite. Over time, the nightmares had become less frequent, the memories of her former Master's punishments had begun to fade and she had begun to finally feel safe until the Hound's assault, which brought the fear rushing back in huge, crippling waves. 

Laying her head on Gregor's herculean chest, Melly couldn't feel anything but safe. She breathed deeply, sliding her hand slowly up over sculpted abs, turning her head to lay tiny feathery kisses on his flour smudged chest. "I'm not really very hungry yet..." she whispered, tilting her head back to look into his dark eyes, his brow furrowed as he peered down at her and she was, all at once, aware of her nakedness beneath the over-sized T-shirt. Melly gently took the kitten from Gregor's hand and placed the tiny creature on the rough oak table beside them, where it stretched languidly and then hopped to the windowsill to bathe in a patch of sunlight.

"Is that so? You should be famished after the pounding I gave you last night." Gregor smirked, sliding his hand down and squeezing Melly's firm ass cheek. The sight of her in his shirt had already aroused the Mountain, especially watching the girl's frantic efforts to clear the smoke from the kitchen as the dogs chased her in excitement. Melly could be quiet and still at times, lost in her thoughts, with Gregor gazing at her soft femininity from afar, then panicked and fearful the next, like a beautiful gentle doe on the run from a pack of hungry predators. The girl's very nature attracted men like him too easily, like Ramsay, even his brother if given the chance. Despite modern times, they were still beasts of an ancient era, possessive, territorial, and full of masculine pride. Clegane's home was his castle, and he was lord of everything under its roof, including Melly. She was now his woman, his lady, the sheath to cover his sword. Fighting to protect her would be his right. To kill for her, his ultimate pleasure.

"I shouldn't let all my hard work go to waste woman," the Mountain teased, grabbing the plate full of bacon and sausage, then leading the parade of hungry dogs to the back patio and locking them outside. "I don't need such a large audience watching us." He grabbed Melly around the waist with his large hands and easily hoisted her up onto the kitchen's island counter, moving between the girl's spread thighs as he captured Melly's soft lips for a kiss. Deep and sensual, Gregor rolled his tongue over Melly's until she moaned and went weak in his arms, making him growl with desire in return. Clegane pulled away, leering at her with a glint of darkness in his eyes as his voice commanded roughly, "Lay back and show me how wet you are. I want to taste what's mine, girl."

Blood rushed through her veins, butterflies soared in her tummy, and she could already feel the wetness between her thighs. Even if she had wanted to, Melly could never resist him. Gregor was not only her great love, he was her addiction. She was always hungry for him, and no matter how much he gave her, how satisfied she felt, she was always ready for more. She slowly leaned back on the counter, her chestnut hair spilling out all around her. With a slow smile, she pulled her knees up toward her chest, allowing the Mountain a quick peek before playfully trailing pink manicured toes up his chest, then parted her thighs and rested her pretty feet on his massive shoulders.

Hearing his deep growl as he took in the view before him caused another surge of longing to flood through her. She needed nothing more than his eyes on her to feel herself grow even more lubricated; her whole body was quivering now, longing for the touch of his hand, his mouth. She would wait as long as he commanded. The girl had been well trained in the art of complete submission, however, Melly silently prayed that his need in this moment was as urgent as hers. She longed to be consumed and devoured all at once. There was nothing she would not allow this man to do to her. "Gregor... please..." she breathed, staring up into eyes that darkened with lust. Even as she watched, his inner beast was emerging. There would be no turning back now.

“You tease me at our own peril, girl." The Mountain knelt down, lowering his towering height and bringing his stern face right to the prize he sought. Gregor's large rough hands ran up Melly’s parted thighs, feeling the softness of a woman’s skin, while inhaling the alluring fragrance of the opposite sex. His thumbs caressed the girl's wet delicate folds. "My hunger is a bottomless pit and I will happily drag you down with me.” Clegane spread her open and dipped his tongue into the honey already collected there, groaning deeply as the taste exploded over his taste buds.

Gregor's predatory glare upwards was fierce and dangerous, holding Melly’s erotic gaze captive as he suddenly yanked her closer by the hips, sliding her spread legs completely over his broad shoulders. Melly’s bare ass hovered in the air as the Mountain thrust his tongue hard into her wet pussy, his mouth covering the girl’s entire pink mound, sucking and feeling her clit throbbing as blood pounded in his ears. Clegane’s engorged cock strained with pressure, but the girl’s delicious weeping was too intoxicating to stop, his tongue feasting deeper as two fingers penetrated the tight opening.

Clegane held her tight and fast, and she knew that her skin would be marred with bruises when he was finished with her. Her head rolled back as she writhed in the Mountain's vice-like grip. It was too much and not enough. She wanted more, needed to feel his cock buried deep within her and yet she never wanted him to stop sucking, licking and drinking her in. Melly clawed at the smooth, cold marble counter top, trying to find something to hold onto as her pleasure surged higher and higher. Crying out in her frenzy only made the Mountain bear down harder, increasing the assault with his tongue while pushing his fingers into her slick entrance. She tried to clench her pelvic muscles tighter, to pull him deeper inside her, savoring the sting as her body stretched to accommodate those thick fingers. Raising her eyes to meet his, she found Gregor's fierce gaze still upon her, watching her every move.

The Mountain pulled away from his woman, leaving her soaking wet and quivering from her climax as he watched and licked his mouth clean. He reached for Melly then, yanking his shirt off of her and baring the full tits he loved to squeeze as he fucked her from behind. But first Gregor popped the button to his jeans open and exposed himself with pride; he was engorged, veins full of hot blood, and hard with a flared head. He rested his thick shaft against Melly's spread pussy and began to rub himself over the wet folds, growling softly at the slick sensation. "Is this what you crave, girl? A good hard fuck?" He smirked, hauling Melly off the counter and turned her around, giving her ass a punishing smack with the pancake spatula. That red welt would turn him on for days to come.

Melly could not hold back, her climax came rushing through her body with a fierce intensity. When she might have pulled away, Gregor held her fast, his mouth still on her, licking, sucking, until she cried out, begging for mercy. He stood over her then, and she gazed up at him, her vision blurred, his hulking form towering over her as she waited for what would come next. When he spoke to her, Melly could only nod in response, there were no words for how much she needed him inside of her now. He lifted her so easily, as though she weighed no more than the tiny kitten. She loved being manhandled by her man, reveled in the feeling of utter helplessness that it gave her to be manipulated by him, as though she were not a woman at all, merely a doll to be posed and used however he wished.

Clegane's hand fisted a chunk of soft hair and pinned her pretty face down to the cold marble, holding his female captive as he entered Melly from behind. He groaned and his cock throbbed at the tight squeeze, impatient to be inside her moist heat. Gregor used his free hand to lift one of the girl's legs onto the counter, displaying her pink cunt even more, while thrusting more deeply. When he felt Melly's velvety walls encase him, surrendering to his demand, the Mountain began to pump his hips, slow but deep, filling her up with his entire length.

The whimper that escaped her lips as he pushed inside of her expressed both ecstasy and agony. She had longed for this moment, and yet she was so sensitive, still, that the pleasure was nearly too much to bear. Every time she gave herself to Gregor it was perfect, however, since he'd returned home, their lovemaking seemed to soar to even greater heights. He held her still now, open and fully exposed, taking his pleasure with long, slow strokes, the head of his cock plunging deeper with ever thrust as her body opened wide to allow him entry. He controlled her completely, there was nothing she could do but accept the gift he gave her.

The Mountain was merciless with his thrusts. Once his full shaft was embraced by Melly, he took her like a wild beast uncaged, hard and deep enough to hurt, letting his balls slap against her wet mound. Gregor's deep rumbling growls were drowned out by the girl’s cries echoing through the house as she came again, soaking his swollen length as that glistening honey gushed and dripped down Melly's trembling thighs. With a clenched jaw, Clegane fought his own release as he pulled out and dragged Melly by the hair off the counter, pushing her to the kitchen floor. The Mountain leered down at the submissive female before him, Melly's chest rising and falling, panting through parted lips as her hands held onto his legs, sliding upwards, knowing what her man expected.

Wrapping one hand around Gregor's thick erection, she could feel the blood pumping under her fingertips. Melly guided him into her open mouth, licking at the head of his cock, sliding her tongue around the bulbous tip, sucking him deeper into her mouth as her lips tightened around his throbbing shaft. Gregor held her close, her hair wrapped around his fist as hot, thick jets of cum hit the back of her throat and she clutched him tightly, stroking his length with both hands now as she nursed and suckled, swallowing every drop he gave to her. She could have gone on forever like this; tiny pleasure sounds came from deep within her throat until finally, he gently pulled her back by the hair. Melly sank back onto her knees, looking up at the Mountain with wide eyed adoration.

"Come here, girl." Clegane held out his hand, wrapping his fingers around Melly's petite ones as he hauled her back to her feet, embracing his lover. A long quiet moment passed, until they were both called to attention by a hungry feline. "Have you picked a name yet? Because Little She-Devil sounds pretty good to me." He grunted softly while tiny nails dug into his flesh, the fearless kitten venturing up the Mountain again.

Melly laughed and removed the kitten from Gregor's leg. "I was thinking of something a bit prettier than that for her!" She kissed his chest again, then once more for good measure. He'd rescued both her and this little tiny kitten, neither of whom would ever have survived without him. There was no end to her love for this man, so brutal and yet so gentle. Stooping to retrieve the over-sized shirt from the floor, she smiled up at him. "Let's think about it while I make you both some breakfast."