Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Into My Arms	By : Famous_Blue_Raincoat Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 2669 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: George RR Martin owns these characters in the Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire FANDOM, and I am merely playing with them for fun, not profit.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Author's Note: Very mildly dubious consent

Sylvie could not remember falling asleep, but she must have. It was still dark, but the quality of the darkness had changed. Everything had changed. Dawn was approaching. She felt Beric’s warm body behind her, his arm encircling her waist. His breathing was even and deep. Sylvie did not want to move for fear of waking the man and breaking this fragile dream she inhabited.
It's not a dream, though, she told herself, unable to resist turning to face him. Rolling over brought a twinge of pain down there, but she ignored it. The sun had risen just enough to allow her to see his face. The scars and the eyepatch made her feel a split second of unease, but it was quickly replaced with tenderness as she reached out and lightly touched his face.
Gods, he was beautiful, she thought. He looked so young as he slept, as if years of hardship had melted away in the night. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stroked his hair and his beard. He made a soft sound but did not wake up. Sylvie was grateful. She needed more time to look at him and to think about what had happened in the night.
The pain had been both worse and better than she expected. To be honest, she had not known what to expect. Sylvie and her sister had often talked about what they imagined it to be like, as they shared a bed and whispered in the night. Neither of them knew much more than the basic facts about what men and women did in bed, but they could hear the sounds their parents made sometimes, through the thin walls. Gayla had giggled nervously once when the sounds were particularly loud and difficult to ignore, but Sylvie had felt sad and confused. “Do you think Father is hurting Mum?” she asked the older girl. “Of course not!” Gayla said, as though offended.
It sounded painful to Sylvie, though she had to admit her mother and father seemed as happy as two people could be. If they were in the same room together, they never missed an opportunity to touch each other.
Sometimes, especially when her father had been drinking ale, he would grab their mother around the waist and dance her around the room. She would squeal and laugh, which made the girls laugh, too. They would rush to their da, saying, “Spin us around!” And he would, but it was clear he really preferred dancing with his wife.
The sisters were so proud of their family, of the easy affection and love. Gayla had friends who were not so blessed and told Sylvie stories of mums who cried all the time, and kids who lived in fear of being smacked around.
Sylvie sighed, pushing away all thoughts of the family she no longer had. Last night she had felt so many emotions jumbled together. When Beric entered her, the pain was sharp. She couldn't imagine how he would fit inside her, but he took his time and slowly the pain was drowned out by the wonderful feeling of being filled with him. She felt there was no separation between them, body or soul. He consumed her, and she in turn consumed him. As the pain increased with the quickening pace of his thrusts, so did the pleasure which was entwined with the pain, a strange sensation of warmth and tension, as though she had a second heart beating away in her lower belly.
And then it was over. She didn't know she had been crying until he kissed her tears away and asked for her forgiveness. There was nothing to forgive, and she told him this as he slid out and laid down next to her, gently rolling her onto her side until her face was buried in his chest. He whispered things to her which she could no longer remember. The last thing she was aware of before sleep took her was the shaking of his shoulders, as if he were silently crying.
-------
Beric’s dreams were troubled. He dreamt he had been killed once again. Thoros’ lips were on his, but the priest’s magic did not work. His friend was crying and begging the Lord to raise him one last time.
But Beric was lost in a cold darkness. He could see and feel nothing except the icy chill. The darkness had a weight which pressed upon him. The isolation and loneliness made him want to howl, but he knew there would be no one to hear him.
He slowly opened his eyes to find he was not alone, after all. For a brief and terrifying moment he had no idea where he was and why there was a warm body nestled in his arms. The disorientation left him as all the memories of last night rushed back, flooding his mind and body with heat.
Her tangled hair was covering her eyes. All he could see were her pink lips and delicately pointed chin. Sylvie. She began to stir. He had not realized he had said her name aloud. Brushing her hair off her face, her eyes opened, and she breathed his name. “Beric.” He was afraid, afraid she would regret their coupling, afraid of the inevitable parting that must come and the pain to follow.
Stronger than the fear, though, was the desire welling up in him again. He kissed her roughly, and she did not resist, her hands exploring the scars on his chest, her fingers curling in the thick hair that grew around them.
He pulled his lips away from her and said, “We don't have much time before they awake.” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. “Do you regret last night?”
“No, no,” she murmured and began kissing his eyelid and cupping his face in her hands. “Please don't say you regret it.”
“Never, Sylvie. And I need you again. God help me, I need you right now.” Beric climbed on top of her, pushing her dress up again. But she closed her legs and pushed against his chest. “Stop, Beric, please,” she said. He was stunned and pulled back. “What's wrong, Sylvie? What did I do?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. It's just, I feel…” she trailed off and looked distressed. “It still hurts. It burns.” She looked embarrassed to say this. He never wanted to hurt her. He was ashamed for not considering this. Beric smoothed her dress down and lay beside her with a smile. He tried not to feel disappointed, but he knew that once the others woke up and looked for him, this was all over.
“You know I want to?” The corners of her mouth were turning down. “I want to very much.” She was running her fingers through his hair again. It was all he could do not to beg, and he hated himself for his neediness.
“Let me see you, then. Now that it's light.” She smiled and started to unbutton the top of her dress. When she had finished, he pulled the dress over her head and buried his face in her breasts. Sylvie’s nipples were a rosy pink against the milky whiteness of her breasts, and Beric drew one into his mouth. She gasped and shivered, her hands on the back of his neck. His tongue trailed across to her other nipple and sucked more aggressively.
Without even realizing it, one hand moved across her smooth belly and between her legs. So warm. She moaned, and he released her nipple. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse and ragged. “Yes,” she said, raising her hips slightly to grind against his hand.
Suddenly he withdrew and crawled down the bed until his face was buried in her cunt. Beric had only done this once before and could not even remember the woman, only how the feel of her against his tongue, her taste, had been enough to drive him over the edge.
“Oh, gods, what are you...what's that…” She didn't seem to have the breath to finish speaking, instead mewling and squirming beneath him, her legs tensing around him until a violent tremor shook her body and she cried out. Loudly.
Beric couldn't wait any longer. Without asking, he drove his cock into her, and covered her mouth with his, moving fast and hard until he felt the tremor that told him she had found her release a second time, and then he exploded into her.
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Into My Arms