Theon's Present [] [Light ]

Theon was angry. When his father declared war on the North, he had expected a great position in the navy. Instead, he had been told to raid petty fishing villages. Then, to make matters worse, his father had learned of his plan to invade Winterfell and put a stop to it. The foolish old man! How could he not see the potential! Now, Yara had told him to come to the great hall. Apparently, she had a "present" for him. It was probably just a way to gloat about her victories. His anger building, he threw open the doors to the throne room. When he saw who sat on the table, he froze, slack-jawed.

On the table sat Sansa Stark, Ned Stark's daughter and the girl of Theon's dreams. She wore only a loose blue shirt, barely covering her beautiful body. One breast sat uncovered, the nipple hard from the cold ocean winds. She seemed scared, but made no move to escape. Approaching her, he found a note on the table. "Don't ask how, just enjoy -Yara". She had probably been offered a choice, Theon guessed, do as she's told or get **** by Yara's crew. He was glad Sansa choose the ladder.

"P-Please Theon," Sansa stuttered, shaky and uncertain, "Use me as you please." She spread her legs, offering him her wet sex. It was beautiful, the hair over her pussy neatly shaved into the shape of the Greyjoy Kraken. Theon definitely owed his sister big time!

Theon wasted no time, pulling his fully erect cock out of his pants and lining it up with her pussy. She was definitely wet, practically dripping onto the floor. She was enjoying this, willingly or not. Without further hesitation, her thrust in, eliciting a squeal from the Stark girl. She wasn't a virgin, which surprised Theon.

"Already spoiled, huh?" Theon asked, pulling out and pushing back in. Sansa blushed, not looking Theon in the eye. "Who was it? Robb, Joffrey, The Hound?" She was biting her lip, trying to contain a moan. Wanting an answer, Theon rammed his entire length into her.

"JON!" She gasped, unable to control herself. Theon grinned, fucking his prize at a steady pace.

"So, Jon got here first," he taunted, picking up speed. In another time he would have been angered the bastard had beat him to it. However, with her warm folds wrapped around his cock, he couldn't complain. Theon had been with enough girls to know when they were about to climax, and Sansa was there. She was panting, holding in pleasure she didn't want to have. Bottoming out inside her, he stopped, much to Sansa's disappointment.

"Beg," he ordered. He expected her to cry, to refuse, to show some signs of resistance. Instead, her demeanor completely changed. She caved in to the pleasure and leaned in closer, wrapping her pale arms around his neck.

"Fuck me," she whispered into his ear, "Fuck me hard. I want to be your salt wife, I want your seed inside me. Just please keep fucking me."

Theon wasn't going to refuse that. He pounded into her with new vigor, shaking the table. Sansa let out her moans now, no longer fearing them. They filled the room, and turned to screams when she came. She squirted all over his cock, pushing him over the edge as well. He deposited his cum deep in her womb, claiming his salt wife. He hadn't paid the iron price, but he didn't care. Sansa Stark was his.

"Good show," Theon heard from the doorway. Turning his head, and still deep in Sansa, he saw Yara, fully nude. "Glad you liked my gift. Wanna give me a turn?"