Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book four

A true Bolton - Part 4 - Ramsay x Roose x Reader

Ramsay sat in his room and drank. He was angry, irate at his father for treating him like he was nothing; at his sister......his beautiful, breathtaking, wicked, dangerous sister, for hating him as she did. Since he had come to the Dreadfort, he had wanted her, how could he not. She was everything that he had ever dreamed of in a woman. A perfect mixture of beauty and peril. She the only thing that he feared; yet with that fear came an increased desire. The way that she had held a dagger to his throat earlier that day, making his body react in a way that would be a surprise, if not a concern to others. His cock instantly hardening in his breeches, as she had hissed in his ear. Ramsay wishing that he could have just pushed her over the table, pulled up her skirts, and fucked her there and then. In fact, he wished that he could just fuck her anywhere. The fierce Lady of the Dreadfort, the one thing that his black heart truly desired. The women that would warm his bed every night, always having her face when looked down at them; always having her voice, when they would call out his name.

He had been angered when his father had sold her to Cley Cerwyn. The bastard unable to believe that Roose had done it, given how close father and daughter were. Yet he had, and now she was with the child of the heir to the House of Cerwyn. And if that was not bad enough, he had heard that Cley wanted to take her away; away from the Dreadfort.......away from him. And that was something that he could not have, would not have. Ramsay preferring the notion of killing Cley, than letting his sister out of his sight.

"She shouldn't speak to you like that. Does she not know who you are; that when your father legitimizes you, you will be the heir to the Dreadfort, and not her." Myranda hissed, as she made her way over to Ramsay with a jug of wine. A soft smile on her face. A smile that was instantly wiped away as Ramsay jumped to his feet and smacked her across the face with such force that she fell to the ground.

"NEVER SPEAK OF MY SISTER LIKE THAT AGAIN. SHE IS THE LADY OF THE DREADFORT AND YOU ARE NOTHING BUT THE KENNELMASTER'S DAUGHTER........." Ramsay bellowed, as he glared down at the woman. Myranda, who was never normally scared of the only surviving son of Roose Bolton and was even a willing participant in his cruel acts, visibly trembling, as he looked up at the man that towered over her. Myranda sure that at any moment it would be her that would be dead at his hands.

"NOW. GET OUT!" He continued. The young woman quickly getting to her feet and leaving with all haste. Ramsay dropping himself back into his chair. His hands gripping so tightly to the arms of his seat, that his knuckles were turning white. He had to do something. He had to release this anger. The bastard of the Dreadfort reaching for his shirt and pulling it over his head, before he got back to his feet and made his way to the door. He had to speak to her, he had to try and speak to his sister and get her to see that he loved her. That he desired nothing more than her love. Ramsay opening the door and making his way through the dark corridors of the old castle; hoping that his sister was in her room and alone.

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Roose sat up and pulled her close, as she straddled his lap. His cock still twitching inside her as he rested his head on her bosom. The lord sure that these moments, where they both held onto one another, as their erotic high continued to course through their veins, were some of the best moments that he knew of. The feel of his daughter's bosom heaving under him, as she tried to regain her breath, bringing a smile to his lips.

"I wish we could send Cley away. I wish we could send him back to Castle Cerwyn with a promise that I would join him later, so then I could be with you all the time. That you could stay in my bed and make love to me, all day and all night. That you and only you would be able to love me......." (Y/n) finally said, as her father moved his head from her chest and looked at her. The lady taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

"But for now, it is best you go. I am sure that Cley will not stay away for much longer..........." She continued with a heavy sigh, before climbing off her father and going to retrieve her robe. Roose flopping back on the bed for a moment. His eyes lingering on her body before she covered it; then he too rose from the bed and reluctantly dressed.

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Ramsay ignored anything and everything as he continued on his way. He had one mission in mind, and nothing and no one was going to get in his way. The son of the miller's wife sure that if he could just persuade (Y/n) to listen to him; if she would allow him to tell her of his love for her, then perhaps there could be so much more between them. A smile pulling at the corners of his lips, as the door to his sister's rooms came into view; yet as he moved towards it, the ingress slowing opened. The young Snow, quickly darting into the shadows as he saw his father and sister emerge from the room. His sister in nothing more than a night robe. His smile growing wider as he watched his father slowly pull apart the robe so that he could see (Y/n)'s chest. Roose leaning down and placing soft kisses to her breasts, before kissing her on the lips and leaving. The smile on Ramsay's face getting even broader, as he leant back on the wall and thought on what he had seen. The bastard realising that this was his way in; the way that he could have what he wanted. Ramsay slowly pushing himself from the wall, before continuing on his way to (Y/n)'s room. His smile never faltering, as he knocked sharply at the ingress. There a sound of movement behind the door, before it was suddenly opened.

"What do you want........?" (Y/n) hissed disdainfully, as she pulled her robe tighter around her form and glared at her father's bastard.

"Simple, dearest sister............I want you.........." Ramsay replied, before pushing past her, into her room.