Work Text:
The candlelight was dim as Ariyana ran a brush through her distressed, auburn locks. A desirous shade of auburn which waved down her back like a river of molten iron. She took great care with her brushing. She needed to. For her last client had been far rougher than she'd been expecting. Which, in turn, had cost her several strands at the price of his firm grip.
He didn't last long, and for that she was grateful. She didn't want to think about the damage he might have caused if he had.
A shame, really. It was her hair that garnered her the most clients. The men she serviced were drawn to her because of it. Like a mosquito which attaches itself to the sweetest flesh, so too were the men of King's Landing lured by the colors of flesh and blood. So eager they were, to wind their filthy fingers through her coppery mane that coins flowed freely into her pocket like blood from a knight's sword.
She took her time, carefully winding her hair into a simple bun with the help of a red, silk scarf. It was already well into the night, and she looked forward to the fastly approaching promise of sleep. The day had been long, and arduous, as sex work often was. But each day, each coin earned brought her closer to her freedom. One day, she would buy her way out of this place. One day, she would be free.
Until then, she only had to endure.
An array of cosmetics were spread across the vanity. Green, kohl-lined eyes studied her tired reflection before she brought a goblet of wine to her lips. She dipped the tip of her finger into a pot of lip paint, and re-applied the questionable concoction to her lips. When her pout mimicked the same shade of her hair, she moved on to the bottles of scented oil. But, just as her fingertips grazed the delicately designed glass tip of the dipstick, her attention was stolen by the sound of heavy footfalls stomping down the hallway.
She thought of the king's soldiers. Specifically, the one that left her chamber moments ago with an unintentional souvenir. The footsteps grew closer, and she frowned, knowing it was time to go again. The king's men were never kind. They took what she peddled ruthlessly. The only saving grace was that most of them were too drunk to last longer than a few quick thrusts.
For freedom, she thought, smoothing her hair a final time. She lifted her goblet, taking a long drink of the wine. The flavor of berries danced across her tongue and she hoped this next client would be her last for the night.
When the boots stopped just outside the door, she drew a deep breath. Her hands-which had never seen a day's worth of manual labor-smoothed the loosely laced bodice that showed an indecent amount of the tops of her breasts. Already the exposed flesh was peppered with fresh bruises from the last few men to touch her.
The door opened and her gaze was drawn to the sound. Her eyes widened at the imposing sight of the man in full, bloodied armour taking up the majority of the open doorway. A true mountain of a man. And for a moment, she thought him so. Then recognition dawned, but it did nothing to quell her fears.
One look at him, and she was already fearing how much of her luscious hair would be lost to his intimidating hands. Ariyana was no fighter. Any man could hurt her if he wanted to, and many had. But Sandor Clegane was another breed entirely. Much like his brother, he wasn't even human as far as she was concerned. His soul would be, as black as the darkness in his eyes, she was sure.
No, he was no mere man. Something far darker than. More evil. And her mind was overwhelmed with frightening images of ways he could kill her.
The door closed behind him with a click. The lock fell into place, trapping her, sealing her fate for the night, and leaving her with no other choice but to accept that fate. She grabbed her goblet, and drained the last of it, ignoring the drops that clung to her chin. Then she stood, wanting nothing more than to get it over with.
The sound of coins rattled loudly when he placed a handful of the dresser by the door. Ariyana filled a goblet for him while he pulled at the straps of his armour. It was almost fascinating watching him make quick work of the armour that should have needed a squire to dismantle. Another proof of his capability that she tried her best to not think too hard about.
She squared her shoulders and forced herself to approach him. Her gaze stayed on his chest, and she took great care to not spill the drink in her no doubt trembling hands.
"Wine, my lord?" she asked, holding the goblet out for him.
He scoffed. "You're shaking, girl." He sounded displeased. "Haven't you ever been fucked before?"
She had, and she knew that the sooner it was over, the better off she would be. He was already draining the goblet when she reached for the string of her gown. The soft fabric fell away from her chest, revealing her pillowy soft breasts, complemented by pert peaks that tightened from exposure to the chill air.
Sandor eyed her hungrily as she worked the dress over the shapely curves of her hips. His gaze locked onto the movements of her hands until her body was completely bare. Ariyana watched his dark eyes rake over her exposed flesh, how they lingered on her most intimate areas while his breathing deepened.
Finally, he met her eyes, and somewhere in the depths of his dark eyes she saw something she recognized. His desire. A yearning which could only be sated by pleasures of the flesh. It was instinctual, the way she moved forward, preparing to kneel at his feet when he grabbed her arm to stop her.
"I didn't come here for that."
She waited, confused, even more so when his hand moved to her hair. She closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself for the pain that would accompany his grip. But she was surprised when she only felt a gentle tug, followed by the soft wisps of her long hair tumbling down her back.
She opened her eyes to see him regarding her with renewed desire, the barest hints of a smirk tugging at the scarred side of his face.
"Much better," he said, now close enough that his breath hit her face, rolling down her neck to cause gooseflesh across her chest. Her nipples tightened from the sensation, doing strange things to her insides and she waited, watching him with a curious expression for what he was going to do next.
He covered her eyes with the red silk scarf, obscuring her view. She breathed deeply when he fastened it tightly at the back of her head. She wanted to speak, to ask him what he wanted so she could get on with it but she couldn't. It left her buzzing with a nervous type of anticipation that she had no way of releasing.
She could hear the rustling of fabric, and then, feel the warmth of his skin when he finally touched her. He pulled her against him. She stumbled, catching herself on his shoulders. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her back, causing her to arch into him and her lips parted in a gasp when a hand found its way to her hair, forming a tight fist against the roots.
His tongue took the opportunity to plunge into her mouth. She offered hers up freely, surprising herself with a moan when he pressed the hardness of his erection against her abdomen. Sparks of excitement trickled down her spine while he kissed her breathless. She surrendered to him, going pliant in his arms and now almost eager for whatever else he would give her.
He pulled her body into his, grinding against her and breaking their kiss. His lips touched her neck, then his teeth. They trailed along her skin, nipping and teasing, and despite her previous reservations, she felt herself growing wet from his attentions.
Her hands moved, landing on the warm skin of his toned abdomen. The muscles there clenched under her delicate touch. She traced his skin lower til she found his cock and wrapped a hand around him, unsprprised to find that he was thick enough for her fingers not to touch. She pumped his cock slowly, reveling in the breathy groan she finally drew from him. It rumbled against her throat, the vibrations doing pleasant, eager things between her legs.
"Gods..."
Her head tilted back, the movement exposing the full expanse of her neck which he wasted no time claiming. Her skin burned where his lips explored, where his teeth nibbled. And she had no time to work through this exciting turn of events before he found a suitable place to mark her. His lips closed tightly around the skin at the base of her neck. He suckled deeply, the blood immediately rising to just beneath her skin and she moaned, squeezing his cock and doubling her efforts to please him.
Later, she would tell herself that it was to compensate him for the consideration of preparing her. But right now, all she could think about was the pleasure pulsing in her clit, begging to be touched. Bein for that sweet release.
His mouth released her skin with a gentle pop before closing around her skin in another spot, higher on her neck. His name left her lips in a breathy whisper of need when he repeated the motion, marking her flesh again.
She felt herself being walked backward. Sandor guided her to lay down on the bed. He climbed on the rented mattress after her, spreading her legs before he settled between them. A sudden intake of breath invaded her lungs when she realized what he was about to do.
He started beside her knee. And gods, she wished she could see him when a warm, open-mouthed kiss embraced her skin before he pulled away, placing another one and another one. Each one brought him closer to where she now ached for him. But it was when his mouth latched onto the skin of her inner thigh and he once again suckled her skin to mark her that her composure shattered.
"Please. Oh, gods, please. Please."
His low chuckle filled the room. One of his thick fingers danced along the soft skin of her cunt, causing her hands to grip the sheets from the sudden stimulation.
"Does your cunt get this wet for all the men that come to fuck you?"
He pressed his finger against her clit, earning a gasp and causing her to buck her hips. She shook her head religiously, wanting to beg for more but not wanting to do anything that would make him stop touching her. And gods, she was elated at the prospect of actually coming undone for him.
He rewarded her with a slow drag of his thick tongue up the length of her cunt. Her head arched back against the pillow and she keened when his tongue circled her clit a few times. She bucked against his face, pressing herself against his tongue in a desperate search for more.
"Sandor.."
Her eyes fluttered beneath the scarf as he continued to lap at her tender folds. She writhed against the mattress, pleasure scorching her skin as her euphoria climbed higher and higher.
She came undone with a cry, gasping for air while her thighs trembled in his firm grip. He continued to lap at her juices and still clenching cunt until she was near shaking with overstimulation.
A moment of bliss passed while she bathed in the afterglow of her orgasm. Exhaustion rolled in and for a moment, she drifted. The mattress dipped and she was pulled from the brink of slumber by the weight of Sandor finally settling on top of her. She reached for him, finding his neck and guiding herself up to kiss him.
He groaned deep in his throat when her tongue traced the slit of his lips, working them open and coaxing his tongue out to dance with hers. She tasted herself. The musky aroma of spent arousal wafted to her, adding to the erotic tang that lingered on her tongue.
He nipped at her lip, drawing a gasp as he lifted her leg, holding her open so he could settle his cock there. And gods, he was thick. She couldn't see, but oh gods she could feel it. Large and imposing, it slid between her slick folds, drawing moans from the back of her throat until she squirmed beneath him impatiently, needing more, needing him inside her.
"Sandor..."
"That's right, pretty girl. Moan for me."
His voice was doing delicious things to her insides. She obliged him eagerly.
"Sandor, please-"
His fingers pressed, digging painfully into her cheek and a whine slipped from her lips when they were forced to part. His tongue plunged into her mouth at the same time he buried himself inside her with a single, powerful thrust.
As ready as she was for him, it still hurt. She doubted enough foreplay existed to prepare her for just how thick he was. He filled her completely, forcing the muscles of her cunt to stretch to their limits to accomodate him. He gave her no time to adjust before he began to withdraw, groaning appreciatively at the feel of her silky, sopping cunt around him. His hand moved to her chest where he groped her breast. Fingers tugged and teased her nipples until they hardened almost painfully, shooting pleasure straight to her cunt where she dripped for him.
He tore his mouth from hers, breathing heavily as he nipped at the delicate flesh of her neck and began rutting, setting a relentless pace for himself. Although she had already come undone for him once, her hips lifted, encouraging his thrusts, welcoming him deeper.
"Your pretty little cunt is taking my cock so well.. Fuck."
She moaned from the gravelly tone of his praise. Her body arched against his as she gave herself over to the pleasure of his thrusting cock. The slapping noise of his cock plunging into her became more audible as he took her, grunting and groaning while fucking her harder into the mattress.
"Yes. Oh, Sandor. Please. Please..." she gasped, writhing beneath him when her thighs began trembling once again.
It didn't take long. She was already sensitive from her previous orgasm. A few more well-positioned thrusts against her most sensitive spot had her coming undone. She cried out, gasping and shaking as he continued to thrust. Her toes curled, her back arching off the silk sheets as she rode the intense wave of pleasure that spread from her cunt to enrapture her entirely.
He grabbed her hips as she came down, pulling her now limp body into each thrust until, finally, he began to come. He held her tightly against him, cock twitching deeply within her as he filled her with the seed of his pleasure before collapsing on top of her.
The weight of him didn't bother her. She barely noticed it over the pleasure buzzing throughout her entire body, lulling her into the depths of sweet, blissful slumber.
When she woke, all trace of him was gone. It took mere moments for her to realize that her silk scarf had disappeared as well. She took it as a promise that he would come back again.
She couldn't wait.