19.8.13

Bolton Rising Part 56 - Petyr & Alayne




Following the chaos from the shootout at the hospital and against doctors' orders, Petyr Baelish had himself, his fiancée Alayne and bodyguard Sandor Clegane airlifted to his beach house along the rocky shore of a small island retreat. The Fingers was an isolated remote area, but heavily secured and fortified against outward attacks, an investment the Mockingbird had made years ago during his initial rise to power. Still weak from his debilitating undiagnosed health scare, Petyr took to plenty of bed rest or like the present moment, sitting outside on the bedroom's scenic veranda. From there, he could enjoy watching the tranquil sea, sipping mint tea while he dealt with business matters over the phone or by Internet.

He heard Alayne's sweet laughter and looked out to see his Little Bird walking along the beach, feet wading in the water and collecting seashells as trinkets again, no doubt. Petyr smiled since the house was already filled with them in every room, but he would never stop her collection from growing, for it made Alayne happy. By the girl's side was Clegane, their faithful dog, lingering far enough away to avoid the ocean spray, apparently frowning at Alayne's suggestion of taking his boots off and getting wet too.

"If some sea creature drags you off, girl, I'm not much of a swimmer," Petyr overheard Sandor growl in complaint, before he was distracted from the humorous scene by a ringing cell phone.

"I've been waiting for your call. You're usually more prompt than this," Baelish answered, masking his slight annoyance with a polite cordial tone.

"My son has never been easy to deal with, Littlefinger. Ramsay continues to be a beast in human skin," Roose Bolton's soft voice answered on the other end of the line. "I have him caged now. He won't trouble you any further, but know this, Baelish, I won't dispose of my bastard until I have another son. A true heir to take my name."

"I understand... It was part of our arrangement. Thanks to my dealings, I have found you a new wife and plenty of wealth to overlook her slight misgivings." Petyr smirked, amused by the thought of such a stern and cold man fornicating with a plump jubilant young girl. "I'm sure Walda Frey will be fertile enough for plenty of children."

A long pause of silence followed. "We shall see or you will have more to worry about than just my bastard's fury, Mockingbird," Roose replied icily, before the phone line was disconnected. Petyr frowned at the sudden rude dismissal, turning his cell off. "Never any humor with that one."

Alayne stopped, ankle deep in the ocean water, bending to pick up a particularly beautiful piece of red sea glass. Turning, she caught sight of Petyr on the balcony and smiled. He was talking to someone on his mobile phone. She could tell he was amused as he spoke, and she was once again flooded with a strong sense of relief at his having survived his mysterious illness. Suddenly she felt cold as the events of the night of his attack replayed in her mind. Seeing him fall, him looking so lifeless... the trip to the hospital, the waiting... Sandor's arrival and the comfort they'd found in each other's arms... the arrival of the Bolton men... Sandor leaving her then... locking the door and climbing into Petyr's bed, curling up beside him and waiting for the assassins to break through the door... Clegane's voice telling her to open the door, that they were safe... the way he'd pulled her into his arms and held her so tightly, kissing her for so long, whispering into her hair that he'd never let anyone hurt her... the smell of the gunfire and the metallic tang of blood in the air. She looked back at the red glass in her hand and thought of all the blood that she'd seen that night. Shivering, she threw the shard back into the sea.

Clegane watched her as she left the water and went to find her towel and her shoes. He always watched her and she was grateful for it. He was her safety and when his dark eyes turned from her, even for a moment, she felt naked, vulnerable and terribly afraid. "I want to go in now," she told him, though she didn't need to. He knew. He could read her moods, sense her changes in a way that might have frightened her, if it hadn't felt so right.

"Aye, girl. Tide's coming in," he answered, filling the space, so she wouldn't have to tell him she was afraid. He knew. "You get all the shells you wanted?" he asked her, looking in the direction of the pile of shells and sea glass she'd collected. "Think there'll be any left on the beach by the time we leave this place?"

"Leave them," she said softly. "I don't need them." Sandor nodded and offered her a hand, helping her climb up onto the rocks, keeping his hand on her arm until they reached the path to the house.

Alayne's relief at Petyr's return home was mixed with guilt for the events during the shootout at the hospital. It was easy for Alayne to lose track of the time when she was with Sandor Clegane. The Hound's manner continued to be gruff, and yet his rough demeanor was as endearing to her as if he whispered words of love to her. They hadn't made love, not since that night at the hospital, but their bond was strong and she couldn't help but want him inside her once more. When she looked into his deep brown eyes, his hard look would soften and he would sometimes touch her hair or caress her cheek before he'd pull away. Once, they'd walked the path through the woods out onto the bluffs. It had been a windy day and the sea was rough as they stood on the edge of the rocky cliff. The sea spray was high and she'd hoped it would hide her tears, but he'd known. The Hound had pulled her into his arms and let her cry, and when she'd turned her face up to his, he'd kissed her tears away, before taking her back home to where Petyr was waiting for her.

Now, entering the house, she ran up the stairs and into the master suite, suddenly needing to see Petyr, to know he was all right. Her love for Petyr had not diminished. If anything, she felt it had grown stronger. Coming out onto the veranda, her heart warmed to see his handsome face break into a wide smile when he looked up, his grey-green eyes crinkling at the corners. Alayne slipped gently into his lap, looping an arm around his neck and kissing his soft lips.

"You look so well today, my love!" she said, and it was true. He had color in his cheeks, and his eyes looked as lively as they had before his illness. Petyr's hair was windblown and his cheek was rough with stubble when she lifted her hand to touch his face. He was casually dressed in a grey sweater and jeans, his work spread before him on a rough wooden table, a pot of mint tea at hand. She loved him like this, loved him being home with her, safe, hers. "Take a break from all that, Petyr. You're working too hard. Let Sandor take care of some of these things. Or let them go until tomorrow. Perhaps tomorrow you can teach me, and let me do things for you. I want you all to myself for the rest of today."

Petyr chuckled softly with amusement as he wrapped an arm around Alayne's waist and pulled her in closer. "This is hardly the kind of work a Little Bird would be doing. It's dirty and dangerous, Sweetling. But I agree, the Hound can deal with the rest for now," he replied, sliding a hand into the girl's soft locks and kissing those tempting lips as they pouted slightly. Baelish let his sinful tongue play with the seam along Alayne's lips, feeling the barrier melt away and grant him entrance. He kissed her with a tender passion until Alayne moaned and leaned into his chest, her fingers clutching at his sweater before pulling away, panting for breath.

"Petyr... Will it be okay?" Alayne fidgeted with need, yet her sweet, dovelike eyes still showed concern over his health.  "I feel wonderful today, Sweetling, you even said so yourself." Baelish smirked as he stood, picking Alayne up with him and carried her to the bed, where he slid her sundress down and admired the girl's physical beauty. "Besides, it's been too long since I've heard your sweet song in my ear."  Petyr's smooth hands roamed over Alayne's nude body, trailing over the paths with his lips, kissing and licking, tasting the salt of the sea on her skin. Undressing himself, Petyr then took Alayne by the wrist and guided her hand to his arousal, groaning softly at the intense pleasure of her fingertips as she stroked his fullness, while the wet heat of her mouth made Baelish suck in a breath as she lavished much needed attention upon him.

As soon as his lips touched hers, Alayne felt herself begin to melt. Her tummy fluttered like it was alive with dancing butterflies and she heard herself moan softly in response to the Mockingbird's passionate attentions. She wanted him to take her as he used to, to make her forget all of the pain and guilt that had tormented her for these past several weeks. Petyr lifted her effortlessly, as though to prove to her that he was healed. Her heart swelled and she smiled as he set her gently onto their bed, his masterful touch causing her knees to weaken and a tingling to begin between her thighs. Alayne watched him undress, admiring his finely muscled physique. He'd lost weight during his illness, but he was still beautifully built.

Wrapping her fingers around Petyr's thick erection, she licked her lips, loving the feel of him pulsing beneath her fingers, mouth watering to taste the glistening drop of moisture at the tip. She leaned forward to capture him between her lips, tongue licking gently over and around the smooth head of his cock, parting her lips wider to take him into her mouth, needing to hold him inside of her body, to be connected with him once more. As she pulled back for a moment, he smiled down at her, his eyes intense as he leaned over her body, parting her thighs as he laid her back, pushing her hair back off of her face as his cock probed at the heat of her slick entrance. 

Baelish smiled as entered her, catching her soft cry with his lips and resting his arms on either side of Alayne's head, watching the pleasure flicker across her face as he began to move. "Alayne... my treasured princess," Petyr whispered, thrusting in deeper as the girl responded and raised her hips, wrapping her legs around his waist, heels digging into his backside to spur her lover on. Littlefinger stared into Alayne's eyes as he fucked her, needing to re-establish his domain and see that knowledge of possession reflected back in the girl's dreamy gaze.

Alayne cried out in pleasure and relief as Petyr filled her. She had needed him to possess her this way again, needed to feel his weight on her and wrap herself tightly around him, pulling him ever closer. “Petyr... my King...” she whispered, never closing her eyes for a moment. She needed to see him as he moved above her, to see his face contort with pleasure as he moved his hips, taking her deeper with every thrust. “I love you... I love you...” she murmured, reaching up to touch his face, his lips, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. Her body began to contract, sending spasms of pleasure coursing through her as Petyr spilled his seed deep within her womb.

Petyr rolled to the side, pulling her with him, wrapping his arms around her as she laid her head on his chest. Alayne could hear his heart beat quickly, but strongly. Reassured, she trailed her fingertips lightly over his chest, kissing his bare skin, hooking her leg over his. He kissed the top of her head, holding her tightly, understanding her need for his strength and his possession. They stayed locked in a close embrace until peace and darkness floated over Alayne, pulling her gently into sleep. 

2 comments:

  1. I wonder how long their fluffy moments will last until it all comes crashing down like a plane. Which will most likely be in the form of Ramsay's wrath lol.
    Awesome chapter <3

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  2. Great read, poor Alayne torn between two loves. And my heart goes out to Sandor who may end up losing forever the one thing that keeps him alive. He needs therapy ;)

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