Thorns For A Rose Pt 02

Golden sunlight painted the hills of the Reach as Margaery Tyrell and the raider rode down into the valley.

It was late in the day after their flight from Highgarden. They were sharing a horse, with Margaery in front and the raider at the rear. His arms were tight around her as he held the reins, his chest warm against her back. He was sweating in the warm afternoon, and Margaery caught a hint of his musk as they came to a stop at a crossroads.

"I think we're safe for now."

They were the first words the raider had spoken for hours. He looked at Margaery inquiringly, and she nodded. Theirs had been a tense escape, but sneaking out of a castle swarming with enemies had given Margaery an adrenaline rush that hadn't quite left her. Unfortunately, she'd had to give the raider back his sword and dress as a servant to make sure they could slip out unnoticed. He'd dragged her through the halls of her home by the arm, doing a good impression of a brute looking for somewhere private to rape a scullery maid. They'd made it to the stables and stolen a horse, the beast staying calm thanks to Margaery's familiar scent. Now they were out in the countryside, on lands that belonged to the farmers who gave their allegiance directly to Highgarden.

"They'll coming looking for me eventually," said Margaery, "but your fellow ironborn will probably spend a day or two to looting my home."

The raider simply grunted.

"My brother will take us in once we reach Brightwater Keep," she reminded him. "Get me there safely, and I'll tell him you're a Tyrell man-at-arms who put on a dead man's clothes to help sneak me out of Highgarden. Garlan will reward you for it."

After leaving Highgarden, they had turned south and then west at Margaery's suggestion, following the line of the Mander. They were in fact following the route of the ironborn invasion fleet, but in reverse. Margaery had argued that they were less likely to be looked for in lands the ironborn had already passed through, and besides, south-west took her towards her goal: Brightwater, her second oldest brother's new keep.

"Will he now?"

The raider sounded dubious, as well he might. He only had Margaery's word that she wouldn't turn him in as soon as they arrived, and besides, there was another plan available to him. He had a sword, and could simply take her back to the ironborn by force. That would mean handing her over to his lord, but his chances of being killed were lower that way, and he knew he'd lose control of her eventually no matter what he did. Margaery's only hope was to keep him under the spell of her body, and to that end she'd already hinted that taking her to Brightwater could mean more sex in his future. That he would use her on the way was a given, but Margaery didn't mind. They were relatively safe in the open country, and so long as they were headed towards Brightwater Keep she could treat the entire thing like a scandalous adventure.

There was also the undeniable fact that being fucked by the raider had felt amazing. She wasn't ready to give that up just yet.

Margaery ducked beneath the raider's arm and slid off the horse. She began to walk off the road.

"Hey!" the raider snarled.

Margaery stopped and sighed theatrically without looking back. "I need to relieve myself," she said. She nodded towards a belt of trees at the bottom of the valley. "There looks nice and private."

She started walking again, and after a moment she heard the raider turn the horse and start to follow her. "I'm not letting you out of my sight," he declared.

"Fine," she replied.

The raider dismounted as they reached the trees. Margaery slipped easily between the trees, lifting up the hem of her plain skirt to avoid fallen branches. The woods were pleasant, with sunlight slanting between the silvery birch trunks and the scent of summer blooms hanging in the air. Without stopping to look back, Margaery threw a question to the raider.

"You never told me your name."

"And I don't plan to."

Margaery rolled her eyes. After a moment she decided to change tack.

"I know these woods," she told the raider. "My friends and I played here once or twice when we were girls. There should be a stream just up..."

She stopped speaking as the trees opened up to reveal the waterway she had been looking for. It was smaller than she remembered, and as it was summer the water was low. Concave banks stood bare and root-tangled a short way from the water's edge, leaving open stretches of sand and gravel on either side of the actual stream.

The raider came up behind Margaery, leading the horse. He paused and took in the view without comment. Margaery wandered over to the top edge of the bank and looked back over her shoulder.

"Look away," she said.

Margaery was used to being obeyed, but the raider only quirked an eyebrow. "So you can run off?" he asked. "I don't think so."

Margaery felt a flicker of annoyance.

Fine

, she thought,

if that's what he's into.

She climbed down onto the gravel and walked towards the water. After a moment's thought she turned around and locked eyes with the raider, still standing above her on top of the bank. She held his gaze as she slowly squatted, her smallclothes parting in the middle so that she could do exactly this without removing her dress. She lifted her skirts and gave the raider her most insouciant smirk the moment before she released the tension in her bladder, boldly staring at him as he watched her pee. A dark stream ran backwards from the ground between her feet, flowing backwards until it met the creek. It ran for a few moments before gradually subsiding.

"There, I made no attempt to escape. Are you satisfied?"

Margaery knew the answer even before she had finished the question, for the raider was unlacing his breeches.

"Not yet," he growled.

The raider jumped down onto the gravel bank and crossed the distance to her in two strides. He took the back of her head in one hand, his hard cock in the other, and thrust himself into her mouth.

Margaery had been expecting something like this sooner or later, and made no attempt to resist as the raider used her mouth. She rolled her eyes as if it was nothing but an inconvenience, pretending indifference in order to enflame him further. The raider groaned and put his other hand on the back of her head, freeing him up to thrust his entire length down her throat. He clamped down on her skull and thrust his whole cock into her over and over, making her gag. Drool ran from the corner of Margaery's mouth as she looked up into his hard, blazing eyes. She tasted the residual tang of her own juices on his dick and decided to stop pretending she wasn't enjoying it as much as him.

Margaery put her flat palms on the raider's hips, applying slight pressure to stop him ramming himself all the way in. Leaving her left hand there, she grabbed his shaft in her right and began to pump her hand up and down his hard length in time with his thrusts, pursing her lips to turn her mouth into a wet, slippery tunnel and bobbing her head back and forth. She gradually took over the motion, feeling him slowly cede control as she confidently pleasured him. No longer needing to hold him back with her left hand, she slipped it down between her legs and began to play with her clit. She started moaning onto his dick, her feminine noises punctuating his increasingly breathy gasps. The upside to riding two-a-horse was that her ass sat right against his his crotch, and the raider had been hard all day, so Margaery knew this wouldn't last much longer.

It didn't. The raider gave a staggered groan and came into her mouth, coating her tongue with his seed. Margaery savoured the familiar taste before swallowing and then kept him in her mouth, allowing his instinctual thrusting to slowly die away before slipping her lips off his head and giving him a quick kiss, right on the tip.

"So what happens after

you

pee?" she asked teasingly.

They didn't go much further that day. The south-western portion of the Reach was less populated that its central regions, further from the large roads and castles. As night fell they made camp in the woods, Margaery watching as the raider gathered wood and lit a fire. They had few provisions and so ate sparingly, watching each other in silence as the deepening shadows fell from the trees like curtains and firelight caught in their eyes. After they had eaten, the raider drew his sword and thrust it point-down into the loamy earth.

"Give me your hands," he demanded.

Margaery offered him her hands, wrists turned submissively upwards. The raider produced a length of rope and tied one end around her left wrist, staring into her eyes as he worked. The silence that pulsed between them was more suggestive than any words. He advanced on her slowly, forcing her to walk backwards until her back met the smooth bark of a birch tree. Margaery looked coyly up at him from beneath lowered eyelashes.

The raider disappeared behind the tree, playing the rope out in his hands. Margaery felt her left arm lift as he raised the rope over something elevated on the other side of the tree before reappearing on her right. He seized her right hand and tied the other end of the rope around that wrist so that she was tethered to the tree by a big loop, her arms forced up above her head.

The raider disappeared again, and Margaery was momentarily confused until she heard him relieving himself in the bushes somewhere behind her. When he reappeared, he went slowly to his knees in front of her.

Margaery's eyes widened in surprise as the raider drew his dagger and slashed her skirt down the front. It was the second time in one day that he had ruined something she was wearing. The first time, he had cut her dress down the back to get her naked so that he could take her from behind. This time, he made no attempt to remove her clothes. Instead, he gently slid his hands up the inside of her thighs, lifting the slashed edges of her skirt. His head followed, and Margaery closed her eyes and bit her lip as his mouth found her vulva.

That afternoon he had used her mouth with aggressive urgency, but now that he was going down on her he was completely different. He worked slowly and gently, stoking her arousal with soft kisses before starting to tease her bud with the very tip of her tongue. Margaery sighed and pulled the rope taught against the tree, clenching her fists as pleasure tingled through her. She moaned her joy into the night, writhing against the tree as the raider kept going, working his tongue and up and down over her clitoris over and over. The fact that she was unable to move only heightened the desperate joy she was feeling, every fibre of her being straining towards the orgasm she could do nothing to hurry. The firelight blurred in her vision, the world tilting into smears of glowing orange against black as she convulsed against the tree, her legs shaking with the force of one of the strongest orgasms she had ever experienced.

Sweaty and spent but still burning with arousal, Margaery stared into the raider's eyes as he stood up and leaned into her, wrapping his left around the back of her head and sliding his fingers up into her hair to grip and hold her. The fingertips of his right hand traced sparks up the inside of her thigh as he caressed her soft skin before undoing his breeches. His cock slid inside her with ease, Margaery's vagina already wet with arousal. She gasped as he filled her, the sensation of his thrusts seizing her senses and tossing them down into a lulling fog of pleasure. He fucked her as slowly as he had licked her, savouring every moment that he was inside her. Margaery could smell his flushed skin, and the smoke that had caught in his long hair. The tree bark was hard and smooth against her back. Her loins burned.

After a while the raider came, spurting his seed deep inside her. Margaery sighed as he slid himself out, her juices coating his slowly shrinking cock. The cold pressed in, their fire suddenly too far away.

Typically, the raider said nothing. He simply cleaned himself off with a splash of water from his canteen then disappeared behind the tree again. Margaery heard a brief struggle and then a bristling

snap

. Suddenly the rope binding her had a lot more give, and she was able to stumble forward on numb legs, bring her arms in front of herself and sit down. The raider must had broken off the branch over which he had looped the rope.

He reappeared and Margaery looked up at him. "You could have just untied me."

He frowned at her. "I'm not doing that," he said. "You're not running off anywhere."

Margaery stared at him with cold anger, but there was nothing she could do. The raider clearly intended to leave her tied up all night. She said nothing, simply watching and waiting as he re-sheathed his sword, lay down on the other side of the fire and fell asleep. After a while, Margaery lay back against the tree and drifted into a doze.

She awoke in the hazy grey light just before dawn. Glancing at the ground, she gathered her courage, cleared her throat and called out.

"Hey, wake up! Someone's coming! Wake up!"

The raider came stiffly awake. "Where?" he mumbled, groggy but alarmed.

"Behind me," Margaery hissed, jerking her head to indicate the direction.

The raider grabbed his sword and pulled it out of its scabbard. He staggered past her, and as he did so Margaery grabbed the solid branch he had broken off the tree the night before, stood up and swung it into the back of his head.

It connected with a crisp

donk

. The raider slipped in the dirt, fell forward onto his face and didn't get up. Margaery stood holding the branch, breathing hard as the sudden adrenaline coursed through her. The raider didn't get up. She'd knocked him out cold.

Desperate to be free, Margaery dropped the branch and crawled over to the raider's sword, which had fallen beside him. She snatched it up and used it to cut her bonds, tossing the rope away contemptuously. Smoothing her clothing, she took a moment to stretch and work proper feeling back into her joints. Then, sword in hand, she set off out of the woods.