Burn For You

Stone House

Chapter-Three~ Stone House

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Brandon Stark felt warm.

Too warm.

Which was rare around these pets considering the forever snow that fell outside his window.

The lined furs were heavy on top of him, and there fire still burned hot in the heath opposite the bed.

But it was the limbs of his lover, tangled in his own that made him feel trapped in a pit of summer flames.

"What's the matter?" The woman next to him said, not looking up as her head rested on his chest.

"Nothing Wylla." Brandon replied, removing his hand from around her shoulder and running it through his hair.

"Yes there is." Wylla replied, making a funny noise when Brandon removed himself from beneath her and stood from the bed. "Someone's in a bad mood." She sighed, leaning back into the pillows.

"It's past dawn, will your husband not be missing you?" Brandon said, bored as he pulled his leather trousers over his legs.

"No, he'll be passed out from last nights drinks with your brother." She said, eyes glued to his muscular back. When he ignored her, she grew irritated, and sat up on her knees. "What's the matter Brandon." She studied his toned stomach, the muscles pressing hard against his skin.

She liked his hair especially, his always looked different to the same boring shoulder length every other man around the north had. No, Brandon's was short on the top and dropped down onto his fore head and went back into a tail down the middle of his scalp. It was shaved at the sides.

He was tall and strong and his voice was deep and carried a certain husk with it when he spoke, he was truly a carefully crafted man, beautiful.

But his eyes were the most mesmerizing, two different shades of magnificence. One was a honey kissed shade of brown, the other a whirlwind of dark grey and summer green.

And his lover, loved nothing more than to get lost in them as he fucked her to their pleasure.

"I've got to train." He replied, pulling his sword into his belt. "Feel free to leave whenever." He said to her, ignoring how her brown locks fell daintily over her heavy breast.

Wylla scoffed, and dropped back onto the bed. "Will you be visiting your son today?" She said as he reached for the door.

"He isn't my son." Brandon said. "And I'm serious, my mother sends maids in every morning to mess up my room." In truth they came to clean it, but they put his mess away in places he could never find and he hated it. "We wouldn't want your reputation dirtying anymore than it already has." He said before he left the room.

He wandered through the stone halls, bowing his head at anyone who greeted him.

"Hello little brother." Brandon heard his brother before he saw him. "Another late morning?" Rickon said, broad shoulders chuckling at his own humor.

"It's barely past the seventh hour." Brandon said with a huff.

"We've been up since the fifth." Rickon said, gesturing to his wife and two girls, letting out a loud laugh when his youngest chucked a cup across the table at her uncle.
"Serena!" Rickon said, warning his daughter with humor in his eyes.

Brandon let out a loud sigh, irritated with all this noise so early in the morning. And now his leather tunic was wet thanks to his niece. "And where is everyone else, why must it be me you tease every morning because I don't have pups to look after?"