The lone she wolf - Part 5 - Ramsay x Reader

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I know I am making Ramsay sweet again, I just can't help myself; that and I want to try for a star-crossed lover's kind of thing for the rest of this story. So, I hope that you will forgive me for loving the Bolton bastard just a little too much.

This time, the sounds that were coming from (Y/n) were real. The moans, the groans. The begging of Ramsay not to stop taking her, were the truest things, the truest thoughts and feelings that she had ever had. Whereas the father had proved disappointing as a lover, the same could not be said for the son. His touch was desperate, needy. Every movement, every word filled with love and passion. The lone wolf finding it harder and harder to reconcile what she had heard about the bastard, with the man that now held her close. The man whose lap she was straddling. Whose body was buried deep within hers. Whose lips were kissing at her breasts. Whose teeth were grazing over her nipples. (Y/n) knew that she should hate him. He was a Bolton. He was wicked, had done so many bad things. Yet at this moment, try as she might, she couldn't. The pleasure that she was feeling, clouding her mind.

Suddenly she let out a cry. Her body shaking as the feeling of euphoria took over every part of her. As she felt Ramsay's seed spill inside her. His hands gripping firmly at her hips as she fell against him. The pair gasping for breath as they rode out their highs. As their sweat-soaked bodies clung to one another. This was not something she should be doing. It was not what she should be feeling. She had a plan, a plan to take down the House of Bolton from the inside. To wreak revenge on the banes of the north and end their line. To see them dead. Just as her mother and brother were dead. Yet as Ramsay held her face in her hands, and looked up at her with those beautiful blue eyes, it was if he had bewitched her.

"Do you hate me.............?" The young man asked, as he carefully pulled her head towards him. Their lips almost touching.

"I............." The lone wolf began. Whatever else she was to say, gone, as Ramsay placed his lips to hers. (Y/n) suddenly finding herself on her back, looking up at the feared bastard. Her legs wrapping themselves around his body, as he caged her between his arms.

"Do you fear me...............?"

"I know I should. I know what you do. What you are capable of. What you have done...........what you have done to Theon, turning him into the wretched creature. But after Kings Landing. After dealing with the ire of Joffrey and Cersei, I find that I fear little, anymore. Even death.............For when you pray for it as much as I did, it loses its sting......." (Y/n) explained. A single tear racing down the side of her face, and pooling in the shell of her ear.

Ramsay had not failed to notice the scars on her flesh as he had moved his hands, his lips, over every part of her body. And as much as he would happily admit that he was capable of some of the most atrocious things. As much as he would smile when he spoke about all the awful things that he had done, just for his own amusement. As much as he would laugh when he recalled the terror that he would see in the eyes of those that he had hurt, had killed; the thought that such things had been done to a creature as beautiful as the one that lay beneath him, made him sick. Made him want to march to Kings Landing, and show Cersei Lannister, what fear really was.

"I don't want you to fear me; to hate me. The rest of the world, yes; but not you. Never you. I want you to trust me.........to love me." Ramsay continued, as he allowed his body to gently fall upon (Y/n)'s. His head resting against her breasts.

"I want you to marry me now. I will have one of my men go and find a Septon. We can be husband and wife, before the sun comes up. I will move you into my rooms so that it is harder for my father to have you, again. I want to protect you, (Y/n). I want to love you. Please............"

(Y/n) lay there for a moment. Was this real? Ramsay Bolton was a sadist. A sick and twisted individual, of low cunning, that took nothing but pleasure from hurting all those around him. A man that was perhaps worse than Joffrey and Cersei combined. Yet this was her plan, to wed into the House of Bolton, and then destroy it. So why not marry him now? Whether now or later the results would be the same. The Boltons would die, and the wolves would return to Winterfell, where they rightfully belonged. But as she combed her fingers through his thick, dark hair, the thought of Ramsay dying, was not as pleasing as it had been before that night.

"Yes..........yes I will marry you tonight." The lone she wolf finally replied. Ramsay looking up at her; a smile coming to his lips, as she nodded. The Dreadfort bastard jumping to his feet and racing for the door. Ramsay not seeming to care that he was naked, as he flung open the ingress and made his way out into the corridor beyond. (Y/n) looking up at the ceiling of the room, that was still just illuminated by the candle on the table next to the bed. The oldest Stark girl hoping that the gods would forgive her for what was to come. That those that had been taken from her, would see that she was doing this all to keep Sansa safe; to see Roose dead. To see the line of Bolton wiped from the world. For that was what she still really wanted........wasn't it? 

Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book fourOù les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant