Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book four

In the strangest places - Part 7 - Ramsay x Reader

Ramsay sat in his rooms, stewing in his own juices, as he though back to the interaction that he had had with his father, not too long before. His fingers gripping so tightly at the metal goblet in his hand, that his knuckles were actually turning white. To say that he was angry, would be the ultimate understatement. He was so angry that he was sure that his blood was boiling in his veins; and what he wanted to do more than anything, was go out and kill something. What he wanted was to go hunting; to chase down some young woman so that he could have his way with her and pretend that she was his father's new bride.

He had no idea whether (Y/n) had mentioned their meeting to his father. No idea whether she had informed Roose that he had touched her; but it would certainly explain why his father had pushed his face into a plate of meat and stuck a blade to the back of his neck, before threatening him. But no, he had seen the delicious fear in her eyes. He had felt her body tremble against his, as he had had his hand wrapped around her throat. She was his prey, something far too sweet and innocent to live in the Dreadfort. A gentle creature surrounded by monsters, and he doubted that she would have been able to tell his father, what had happened. That she would have been able to speak of what he had done. Ramsay absentmindedly letting his hand brush over his crotch. His arousal growing, as he closed his eyes, and saw an image of his father's bride under his control. A groan coming from between his lips, as he imagined her dropping to her knees, unlacing his breeches and freeing his hardened cock from its confines, before taking it into her mouth. His head dropping back, and his fingers gripping at her hair, as he felt the tip of his arousal hit the back of her throat, again and again. The thought of her gagging as she took every last inch of him past her lips, causing him to rub his hand firmly over his quickly stiffening cock.

Until she had arrived at the Dreadfort, Ramsay had not cared that his father was to marry again, other than about what it might mean for him, and his standing in his father's eyes. Though as he had wrongly thought that she would be a woman that was closer to his father's age; a woman that would be just there to offer Roose some companionship more than an heir, he had not let his thoughts focus too much on a new legitimate child. But when he had seen her. When he had watched her reluctantly get out of the carriage that his father hand sent for her, he realised how wrong he had been. That his father had got himself a woman that was young enough to be his daughter, just so that she could give Roose what he most wanted, and Ramsay most dreaded. And as much as he had wanted to dispose of her, before his father could fill her with child, a bigger part of him desired to make her, his. To win the beauty away and fill her with his own seed. To be able to watch as her belly grew round with his own heir. Ramsay groaning, as his aroused manhood, pushed even more against its material cage. The young Bolton knowing that he could not wait; that he could not last until he hunted. That he had to have relief, and he had to have it, now. A deep growl coming from inside of him, as he pulled on the strings that held together his breeches; spitting into his palm before taking his engorged cock into his hand and beginning to stroke himself.

He closed his eyes again, he had to imagine that the hand that was around him, was (Y/n)'s. He had to pretend that she was naked before him; her soft palms stroking his thighs, before she leant forward, her lips kissing his flesh, kissing his throbbing arousal, before taking him into her warm, wet mouth. Of her moaning lewdly, as she tasted his pre-cum on the tongue that swirled around his length. Of her bringing him so close to the point of release with her movement, that he believed that he might just go mad if she didn't push him over the precipice; only then to find that she had straddled him. The beautiful young woman taking her into her hand before guiding him inside her. Her fingers gripping at his shoulders, as she sunk onto him. Ramsay pushing up his hips to force himself as deep as he could get inside her. To sheath himself in the tightness that gripped him. Her arousal pooling in the dark hair at the base of his manhood, as she began to ride him as she would a stallion. The bastard of the Dreadfort unable to stop himself from moaning out her name, as his thoughts became even darker. As he envisioned her taking his hand and placing it at her own throat, telling him that she wanted him to squeeze as he had done when he had held her up against the wall. That she did not want Roose, and she was now his, to do with as he wanted, when he wanted. Ramsay gripping tightly to the arm of the chair, in which he sat as his legs began to shake, and his toe curled in his boots. As the knots in his stomach that had been getting tighter and tighter, began to scream to be released. His hand moving up and down his shaft quicker and quicker, until he could hold it back no longer, and his seed spilled from him. (Y/n)'s name leaving his lips, as his cum covered his hand and dripped down onto the breeches that still covered him. Ramsay's eyes opening, so that he could look down at himself. So that he could see what the mere thought of his father's bride, could do to him. The feared young man letting his head fall back, as he rode out his high and did his best to catch his breath. The bastard more determined than ever, that despite his father's warning, he was going to make this whole thing a reality. That the next time that he called out (Y/n)'s name, she would actually be there with him.