#gameofthrones

The hour was late when your husband returned home, he had been gone for a fortnight looking for work. You could hear the front door slam against the wall as he stumbled inside, grumbling loudly to himself.

You already knew he'd be in a foul mood, he always was after spending any time on the road. Without good food or a warm bed to sleep in he was grouchy and miserable. So, you had prepared everything that would make him comfortable, the bath water was hot and ready, there were plenty of clean towels, and you had even bought some fine mead.

"No," he said before you could ask how his journey had been. "Don't want a bath, don't want a meal. Just want that mead." He pulled the stopper from the bottle with his teeth and threw back a mouthful, then another.

You reached up and gently pried the bottle from his grasp, holding it out of reach as he tried to snatch it back. "You can have the mead later. Right now, you need a bath. You reek of horse."

He gave a gruff laugh. "A man who doesn't stink of horse is no man at all." He tried to grab the bottle again, but you held firm.

You arched a brow. “Then I must have married a whole stable.”

He tried to grab the bottle again, but you stood your ground.

“Get in,” you said firmly, pointing at the tub.

He scowled at you, but took off his clothes, tossing them onto the floor, and got into the bath.

"What is this? There's something in my water." He scooped some up and let it run through his fingers. "Are these... petals?"

"Yes," you admitted, feeling suddenly foolish. "They're supposed to make the bath more relaxing."

"Well, I don't feel relaxed," he grumbled, settling deeper into the water.

You let out a long sigh, and then began to unlace your dress.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm going to help you relax." You let your dress drop to the floor, your breasts on full display for him. His gaze lingered on them, a slow smile creeping across his face.

You stepped into the water, a little bit of it sloshing over the side as you settled yourself down on his lap. His hands found your waist, holding you steady as your hands pressed into his chest. You began to wash him, running your hands along his skin and rinsing the dirt and sweat away.

"There, you are beginning to feel more relaxed, aren't you?" you asked.

"Hmm." His hands slid from your waist, moving lower until he cupped your arse in his palms. He gave it a squeeze, and a gasp escaped your lips. "Something like that."

You could feel his cock hardening beneath you, pressing against the soft flesh between your legs. You shifted your hips, rubbing yourself along his shaft. You reached for his hair, planning on washing it for him, but he flinched and grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

"I'll do it myself." He grumbled, but not moving his hands from your body.

"Why? It's alright, I want to help." You tried to pull away, but his grip was like iron.

"No," he repeated.

You sighed and leaned forward, your breasts pressing against his chest as you tried to reach the soap. He pushed it out of your reach, his face inches from yours.

"Fine, have it your way." You pouted, but secretly you were pleased. You knew exactly how to break his stubborn resolve.

You began to move, grinding yourself against his cock. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. He groaned, his head falling back against the edge of the tub as he watched you through hooded eyes.

"You still smell like horse," you whispered, a small smile playing on your lips. "I won't let you into our bed until I'm sure you're clean."

He gave a low growl, part threat, part laugh. “And how do you propose we fix that?”

“Like this,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck and lowering yourself onto him inch by thick inch.

He hissed, breath catching, the muscles in his thighs tensing beneath the water.

“By taking a nice, relaxing bath together.” You smiled against his mouth and kissed him. This time, he didn’t resist.

He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, his breath ragged as he moved his hips.

"No, no, no," you teased, halting his movements and pulling back. "I'm washing your hair before anything else."

His brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to protest, but you silenced him with another kiss. You could feel his resolve crumbling, and you took advantage of his momentary distraction, reaching behind him and grabbing the soap.

He groaned when your fingers slid through his hair, lathering the soap gently. You were careful, avoiding the side of his face where old burns still scarred him. He hated being touched there…but he didn’t flinch when you brushed the edges. That trust made your chest ache.

"Mm, that feels nice," he murmured, closing his eyes.

You continued to wash him, working the soap into his hair and beard, then rinsing it away with small cups of water. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, and it was becoming difficult to focus on the task at hand.

"What did I do to deserve a wife like you?" he asked, his eyes still closed.

"You came back home," you replied simply, your voice barely a whisper.

He opened his eyes, his gaze meeting yours. "I'll always come back home," he promised. "Nothing could keep me from you."

You kissed him, a tender kiss that made your heart swell. He kissed you back, his tongue parting your lips and finding yours.

"I'm sorry for being such an cunt earlier," he said, his words muffled against your lips. "It's just, after a while on the road, the days all seem the same."

You smiled and began to move again, riding him slowly. "You're forgiven," you whispered. "But now, it's time for you to relax."

He laughed, a low, deep sound that sent shivers down your spine. "I can't promise I'll be very relaxed after this," he said, his hands gripping your hips.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear. "Let me take care of you," you murmured, and you could feel his cock twitch inside you.

He groaned, his fingers digging into your skin as you rode him. You could feel him getting close, his thrusts becoming more erratic. The water was sloshing dangerously close to the edge of the tub, and the sounds of your pleasure echoed off the walls of the small room.

Finally, he came, his seed spilling into you as his body shuddered. You held him close, stroking his hair as his breathing slowed.

"I missed you," he mumbled, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"I missed you too," you whispered, kissing his cheek.

He looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Now, about that mead..."