She didn't have to ask him twice. Daemon met her lips easily, eagerly, slotting his mouth to hers and invading her mouth with a low groan. Her weight was a pleasant friction in his lap, and thank the gods he was experienced enough to keep a tight leash on his libido, else she would have found herself fucked, and fucked well, right there on the rug in the middle of the floor.

But he sensed she was getting more and more heated, which was perfect and exactly what he wanted, so Daemon kept up his careful tutelage, pleased that Sansa was getting a little bolder with every passing moment. He wanted her begging before he went any further, and the easiest way to achieve that was to let her work herself into that frenzy.