Theon Greyjoy Imagines

Greedy

In all her experience with the ward, Y/N could be assured of one thing. Theon's attention was always fleeting. In the throes of passion, she would be the only woman in the world, but the moment his gaze wandered, she'd lose him.
She could feel his gaze from afar, and it made her hair stand on end. She suddenly found it difficult to resume her conversation with Sansa, struggling to hide how her cheeks flushed when she caught his eyes.

She'd never been a good liar, but in that moment it felt as if every person in the room knew their secret. Theon on the other hand seemed perfectly at ease, seamlessly continuing his usual banter with the eldest Stark, careful not to stare and attract her brother's attention. He chuckled offhandedly at something Robb had said, flashing a familiar smile that had the Stark girl's stomach in knots.

Excusing herself suddenly, a muttered apology to Sansa, she stepped out of the great hall, rushing outside to draw breaths of the cool winter air. The winds stung her exposed skin, but her blush gradually receded, and she felt as if she could breathe again. Attempting a neutral expression, Y/N kept her head down, making her way back towards her chambers and not sparing a glance in Theon's direction.
She certainly did not expect the Greyjoy to be waiting on her bed.

Theon smiled brazenly at her, standing to meet her. "Morning." His hands found her hips and he held her at arm's length. His eyes flicked towards the bed, clearly implying what he wanted. Y/N's neutral expression faltered, and she carefully stepped out of his reach, crossing her arms. "I'd like you to leave."

It was almost a relief to see the smirk drop off his face, his brow furrowing. He attempted to grab her again, a bit more gently this time, and was again surprised when she sidestepped his advances. "Why are you cross with me?"
She was careful not to betray her emotions through her expressions. Sighing under her breath, she lied shakily. "I don't want this anymore."

He blinked, his frown deepening almost unnoticeably. "Is it something I did?" Then, prompted with no response, he continued. "Did I offend you? I thought this was what we both wanted?" His hand caught her elbow as she walked away from him, pulling sharply.
She remained silent, staring out the window at the freshly fallen snow, her posture rigid and her back turned. Leave. She beseeched him silently.

Theon's expression hardened, and he released the grip on her elbow. "I see." A subtle smile broke across his face. "You're jealous."
She whirled around, staring at him with audacity. "I am not jealous!" Theon hummed under his breath, sweetly avoiding her gaze. "Of course not, why else would you be suddenly cross with me, swearing off any love we ever had?"

"I do not love you, Greyjoy." She spat, growing exceptionally more angry with each word that left his lips. She attempted to shove him, throwing out her hands. Theon caught her wrists and fixed her with a illicit smile. "Of course you don't love me. You lust after me." He breathed, his dark eyes twinkling as he held her close.

Her jaw ticked almost unnoticeably.
"Why do you want to stop now? Worried that your betrothed will find out? That your brothers will?" He laughed softly, and the sound had her in knots. He pressed an open mouthed kiss just below her ear, nipping lightly. "Your betrothed doesn't stand a chance." He pulled back and fixed her with a dark stare. "No one can fuck you like I do." His hands found her waist, and he pulled her back towards the bed. Loosely pinning her wrists above her head, as if she'd run.

Y/N wiggled in his grasp, fighting to keep a sour expression on her face. She lifted her hips slightly to assist him as he pushed her skirt up towards her waist. "We'll have to be quick." She warned, glancing towards the unlocked door.
Theon growled softly, kissing up the column of her throat. "I'll take as long as I want." He murmured, slowly beginning to rut his clothed package against her. He quickly unlaced his breeches, pulling out his length and running it up and down her silken folds. Finally, he sunk himself into her heat slowly, a soft groan on his lips. There was nothing elegant or dignified about the way he took her, there never was. This wasn't about honor- it was about pleasure and pride.

She moaned breathlessly, his grip on her wrists tightening as she wiggled against his grip.
His hips snapped against hers, soliciting another moan from the girl beneath him. His smile was intoxicating, and he released her wrists without a second thought.

Her hands flew to his shoulders, squeezing tightly as his snappish motions continued, her lips pressed to his in a heated moment of passion. He tasted like cheap wine and northern spices, and she hated it. She hated how she couldn't resist him.

He kept true to his word and took his time, before finally finishing with a quiet grunt. Withdrawing from her embrace, he re-laced his breeches and smiled at her, the familiar twinkling back in his eyes. Slipping on his boots, he made his way towards the door. He glanced back at her and frowned imperceptibly. Rushing back to her bedside, he engaged her in one last passionate kiss that stole her breath, before disappearing out her door.

She hugged the covers up around her body, hiding her shame. She glanced back at the door, touching her own lips gently. She rested her head back on the pillows, a frown stuck on her tender expression. "Goodnight. "