Bolton Rising Part 73 - Petyr
"Petyr… My sweet Petyr…" Littlefinger heard someone rousing him from a deep sleep. For a moment, he hoped it was Alayne’s naked body curling up next to him, running her hand over his bare chest, tracing the faint birthmark pattern. Baelish had always teased her that it was an old scar from his days as a knight. A chivalrous fool for the love of an unreachable princess. How he despised such fairytales, for even now they mocked his grand ambitions. There was no honor to be had when one played fair. "My sleepy Petyr… I know how to wake you up." Petyr felt the shift in the bed's mattress as the persistent female moved and straddled his hips, her hand curling around his flaccid penis, stroking enough firmness into the shaft so she could penetrate herself. She gave a sultry cry and rode him eagerly, while he laid there with feigned interest, barely acknowledging her presence, only reaching up to squeeze her breast. The woman cried louder