Snow, Fire And Ice

TITLE: Snow, Fire And Ice

AUTHOR: MidKnight

CHAPTER: 1 of 1

FANDOM: Game Of Thrones

SHIP: Jon / Ygritte

RATING: NC-17

CATEGORY:  Erotica

SPOILERS: A couple, Season Two 

SYNOPSIS: WARNING: HERE BE SPOILERS – SEASON 2. The Wildling Ygritte’s lascivious offer haunts Jon Snow in his captivity.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Game Of Thrones. None of these characters belong to me. They belong to the people who created them and whoever else does. I pay homage to them and I make no profit from this story in any fashion, way or means.

AUTHORS NOTE: This is my first Game Of Thrones fan fic. I apologize before hand and hope you will forgive any errors or blatant discrepancies.

FEEDBACK: Yes Please. It helps. It really, really helps. Take a minute, review and tell me what you think. It really will be much appreciated. – midknight_tales@yahoo.com

Jon Snow shifted and wriggled as he tried to ease the cramps created by his rough bonds, as he lay trussed up in the corner of the cold, dark hovel the wildlings had thrown him into once they had reached the camp. His body ached and the cold seeped into him from the bare, dirt floor. Even indoors, in a shelter, such as it was he could see his breath. He should have just killed her, done as Halfhand had instructed and maybe things would have turned out differently. Hell, he might have been off better off following Ghost when he'd left their rag tag little group. He fleetingly wondered where the dire wolf was at that moment as he huddled against the corner and hugged himself as best he could for warmth. The day’s exertion finally took its toll as his eyelids drooped and slumber took him. "Maybe freezing to death would be a better end than what the wildlings had planned for him." He thought drowsily before he surrendered to the deeper darkness of sleep.

He woke with a start when someone kicked his boot. He blinked away sleep and looked up to find Ygritte staring down at him, cool, piercing, sky blue eyes studying him from her pale features and the scarlet halo of her hair. "Good, you're still alive." She noted with an amused quirk to her lips. Sleep was slow to relinquish its hold on him and it took him a few moments to notice the changes to the small shelter. Firstly, he was no longer bound and secondly he was warm, because there was now a cheery little fire going in the corner opposite to him as well as a fur spread out next to him. She watched him take in his altered surroundings as he rubbed his wrists where his bonds had chafed them. "You could try to run, but know that there's no place to get to before you freeze to death or I hunt you down and kill you." She informed him coolly and he found himself nodding an agreement to the unspoken accord of him not trying to escape.

"To what do I owe the honor of your company and the improvements to my accommodations? Has Vance Rayder finally deigned to see me?" He enquired, having to swallow a few times to wet his throat. "Ever the droll caged, little crow. Would you prefer it if I retied your bonds, dowsed the fire, took my fur and left you to the dark and cold?" She answered his questions with several pointed ones of her own, her eyebrow raised and her fist at her hip. Her eyebrow arched higher and her head tilted to encourage him to answer when he didn't while her eyes bore into his. There was something in the way she looked at him that made him nervous. "No." Jon answered honestly, if sullenly, turning his head to tear his eyes away from the intensity of his eyes as her lips curved into a smug smile.

The room grew silent except for the soft hiss of falling snow and the moan of the wind. The fire made a sharp crack as the wood settled and he turned back to look up at her. "What do you want of me, Ygritte?" He wondered softly knowing the infuriating wildling woman wouldn't tell him unless he asked. "Vance will be here in the morning and then who knows what your fate will be Jon Snow. So... I have decided that you need to be shown what your foolish oaths have made you miss out on." She told him as she started to undo the ties on her fur coat.

"What?" He wondered in perplexed, incredulous confusion. "A few days in ropes and your wits have dulled." She commented with a slow shake of her head that turned her hair into a swirling red halo. "I... I don't understand." He voiced his confusion as she undid the last tie and shrugged her fur coat off her shoulders and let it fall to the dirt floor. "I know you don't, Jon, but you will... I promise, My Innocent Little Crow." She informed him as she started to undo the leather belt that cinched her buckskin dress at her waist. Without her heavy, concealing coat, the dress showed the lush, feminine swell of her breasts and hips. How he had mistaken her for a man when they had first met he would never know. Jon blinked as the nature of her intentions started to dawn on him. "No." He whispered even as his body started to react and his manhood started to stiffen in the confines of his breeches. "Do you deny me, or just yourself?" She wondered with an amused lilt to her voice as she let the belt fall to the ground with a soft thud and then slowly slid her hands up over her flat belly and started to unlace the front of her dress. "Stop, please!" He beseeched her in a strangled voice even though he could not turn his yes away as she revealed ever more of her creamy skin.

"You're no longer bound, Young Crow. Make me." She challenged him as she slid the dress off one shoulder and then reached for the other. Jon sat frozen and staring, his hands flexed into fists, hard enough so that his nails dug into his palms. He wanted to grab her, but The Seven and the Old Gods both, not to stop her. All her lascivious words from the trek when she had been his prisoner seemed to pound in his ears, heating his blood and fanning the growing flame of his ardor. His jaw dropped slackly when she pushed the dress down to her hips and she was naked from the waist up. Her breasts were smooth, high, round mounds, painted golden by the firelight, her cleavage a shadowy mystery while her dusky pink nipples, thick as the first joint of his thumb, but just a little shorter formed proud, skyward facing peaks.

His cock throbbed against the confines of his breeches and the fire could not account for the sweat that seemed to be rolling off his blazing skin. "Do not do this, Ygritte... I have made a solemn oath to The Nights Watch... I... Please." He pleaded again, his voice a husky, strained whisper. "What am I doing, Jon Snow?" She asked as she stretched the dress over and down the flare of her hips until she no longer needed to and then let it go to puddle around her feet. She wore no small clothes and stood before him naked. A stark, scarlet triangle of curls below her flat stomach pointed to her sex and his eyes followed it without his command.

Her cleft was pink with swollen folds and as he watched she shifted, ever so slightly and the light changed to make them glisten wetly and almost wink at him. Jon licked his lips and swallowed hard to wet his suddenly very dry throat. "You're a man. You want me. You can't deny that." She stated and with a foot he didn't remember her baring, she nudge the bulge in his pants making him grunt and then groan as she proceeded to run her toes along his length. "And, quite a man it would seem. I wasn't quite sure when it pressed against my ass, what with all the fur between us." She noted with a leering smile while he tried to find an answer to her trick question. He almost thought it would be worth it to renounce his manhood as he felt his lust slowly, but surely chip away at his resolve and honor.

"Take off your clothes." She commanded, slowly spreading her stance to display herself to him. He almost whimpered with the shame of not being able to turn away from her fair, lush feminine form as he continued to drink it in. "For tonight, here with me, forget your Black Brothers, forget your lofty, dusty oaths. Tonight, be not of The Nights Watch; don't think of me as a wildling. We are just a free man and a free woman who can do what they want." She inexplicably changed tack, appealing to him instead of bullying and ordering him. "You want this." He meant to ask, but found himself stating as he realized it was true. She grabbed his hand and before he could react she lifted it and pressed it to her sex. He remembered her telling him that she would be warm and wet, and she wasn't wrong, but neither did those simple concepts cover the moist, silky feel of her female flesh as she pressed his fingers amongst her folds.

"Yes." She admitted softly as she sank down to her knees and on top of him. He wasn't sure if he tried to catch her or hold her at bay, but she was in his arms, warm and nubile and when her lips met his, he was lost. Her kiss was wild, brazen and hungry, lips, teeth and tongues sucking, nipping and dueling as he gave his passion its head. His hand dug into her auburn tresses to cup her head and afford him some modicum of control as they started to writhe together. Her breasts were warm pillows against his chest, her nipples hot little pebbles while his other hand, trapped between them explored the slick, flexing flesh of her sex. Her hands clutched at his head, neck, shoulders and back and she made little noises against his mouth that he echoed with throaty groans and rumbles.

"Get your clothes off." She almost snarled at him, her blue eyes wide and wild with frantic desire after she breathlessly tore her lips from his. Her hands scrabbled at the fastening of the jerkin he wore before the echoes of her command had died while he struggled to fee himself of his heavy jacket. Her nudity was a distraction as his hands sort to explore her rather than attend to his clothes, although his need demanded both. She was either less concerned with his groping hands and newly bared chest or more focused on her task, he could not tell, but she managed to undo his belt and the fastenings of his breeches enough for her nimble fingers to burrow into his small clothes and wrap around the aching hardness of his manhood.

Jon groaned against the rapidly beating pulse point at the side off her neck, her auburn curls tickling his face as fished him out into the open while she stroked and explored his length. Her hand felt like heated silk as he throbbed against her caressing grip. Impossibly, her skin smelled of fresh, clean snow mixed with spiced wine and cinnamon and something exotic and indefinable and he drew in great drafts of her scent, running his nose along its pale smoothness. He lapped and nibbled his way lower, stopping briefly to swirl his tongue around the hollow he found at the base of her throat and feeling it vibrate as she purred deep in her throat before moving on to reach the upper slopes of her breasts and caught sight of the turgid, pink peak that was her nipple.

It called to him and he answered, swooping down on it like a hawk from the heights. She moaned and her hand tightened around his cock as he sucked and nipped and licked at the turgid, but tender flesh of her nipple. She rocked her shoulders and arched her back to press her generous tit flesh into his mouth for him to feast upon. His hands slid down the slope of her back, feeling the ridges and valleys of her spine until he found the curves of her ass and squeezed. She held on to the base of his cock and straddled him. Steamy heat radiated from her as she hovered over him and his hands on shifted to her waist to hold some of her weight. She sunk lower and he groaned as his pointed head slid through her hot, moist folds and again when she guided him to her entrance and wedged him firmly in place.

He felt continuous little tremors running through her as she resisted the downward tug of his hands and continued to nuzzle at her breast. Her fingers wound into his hair once more, but this time they tightened and pulled his head back and up, hard enough to make him grimace and a growl roll from his throat. She had a wild, smug, fierce look on her face that spoke to something deep inside Jon and added to his desire. The fire lit her face in a tapestry of shadow and amber and her cool, blue eyes seemed to glow as they looked into his. It should have been scary, considering where he had seen such a thing before, but it just added to her feral beauty. "Tell me what you want, Jon Snow." She demanded, again stubbornly resisting the steady tug of his hands to urge her down onto him.

"I want you." He admitted, hardly recognizing the low, feral voice that made the admission. "What about your oaths, My Ever So Honorable Crow?" She almost taunted and badgered him with a smirk on her kiss-swollen lips. He wanted to tell her to go to hell, to throw her off him, but she slowly rocked her hips, shifting him ever so slightly against the hot, wet promise of her sex and with the taste of her still in his mouth and his nose filled with the exotic scent of her arousal he remained frozen. He swallowed hard and licked his lips and took a deep, slow, shuddering breath to find his voice. He started to answer and again she surprised him as she released her rough grip on his hair and then she lightly cupped his bearded cheeks, her thumbs sealing his lips. She chuckled and she jiggled on him as she lightly slapped his face.

"Oh, Jon, you silly, silly Westerosi, for this one night you can have both your desire and your honor because, Winter take me, I want you and no one else will ever know unless you tell them." She saved him from saying the words that would truly damn him as he found himself prepared to forsake his word and his brothers for him desire. He still wanted to protest, but all that escaped him was a shuddering gasp as she relaxed and impaled herself on him. His eyes went wide and he couldn't catch his breath for a moment as a surge of sensation unlike anything he had felt before rampaged through his body from his groin as her warm, moist flesh enveloped him and drew a flexing, squeezing trail of pleasurable friction down his length. She half-sighed, half-moaned on a slow, heavy exhalation as she slowly rocked and rolled her hips after she settled on his lap while she gathered his face to her bosom.

He clutched at her back as she held him and fought the raging storm in his loins. He gritted his teeth and groaned against the sweet valley of her cleavage as she tightened around him. "Don't you disappoint me, Jon Snow." She warned him, her ragged nails digging into his scalp in emphasize. The pain and the threat in her tone proved to be enough of a distraction to allow him to find some measure of control. He also exhaled the breath he didn't realize he was holding. Her hands left his head and found his shoulders and then shoved him back down onto the fur beneath them. "Good." she praised before she planted her hands on his chest and used the leverage to slowly raise and lower herself along his throbbing length.

His hands found the smooth curves of her hips without conscious thought as her fingers flexed and massaged the hard, muscles of his chest while she rode him and he pulled her to him and bucked up to meet her. Pleasure along with heat and pressure radiated into him from the snug, greased-silk of her clutching femininity. It felt wonderful and Ygritte let him know in no uncertain terms that she was enjoying herself as they undulated and ground against each other. Her hands left his chest to grab at the fur above his head and her lips swooped down to capture his, her hair a flaming curtain around his face. The hard points of her nipples pressed into his chest surrounded by the warm pillows of her breasts as they flattened against his chest. Her strokes became shorter, but faster and harder and she made small, sharp sounds into his mouth as their lips wrestled and their tongue dueled.

They were both breathing hard, grunting and groaning as they strained together. The jolts and waves of pleasure rapidly built a roiling, pulsing ball of energy in his groin and a growing tension in his gonads. Sweat popped up on his skin and ran along it in tickling rivulets to mix with hers and lubricate their sinuous movements as they slid together and moved apart. His hands slid up the shifting satin of her back with one hand burrowing into her red hair and the other hooking over her creamy shoulder. With, a grunt he twisted his hip and rolled them, reversing their position. She seemed to struggle to regain her position of control and power as much as to writhe beneath and against him until he managed to capture her wrists and again crushed his lips to hers.

"Be mine, Ygritte." He growled as he circled his hips to grind against her, rocking himself in her snug embrace, feeling it clutch and twist around his throbbing hardness and spill a fresh, hot gush of slippery cream in response. "Then take me." She almost snarled back. He relaxed his grip on her wrists and then found her hands to intertwined and meshed their fingers as a mutual brace for his hard pump and grind. The tension in his nuts started to skirt the border between pleasure and pain as he strove to hold back his release while still straining to drive into her delightful core. Their lips met less and less frequently as they both sucked in heavy shuddering breaths to fuel the flex of their muscles. Her gasps and moans became soft little cries that soon began to rise in volume as she wrapped her legs around him and they tightened to urge him to drive into her harder and faster, his animal grunts mingling with hers.

His lungs burned and his heart hammered against his chest while his blood sang in his ears and electric pleasure surged across his nerves. He had spent hours in the practice yard, sword in hand until his muscles ached with fatigue, but that was as nothing to the heated strain they felt now, but still, they moved together, hunger and eager, wild and passionate. He raised his head, his lips leaving the skin at her collar bone in search of air that he didn't seem to be able to find while his hips bucked hard and fast although he was already pressed tight against her as he lost control. A hoarse cry bubbled from his mouth as he threw back his head and the small of his back twitched and locked to curve his spine into a vibrating when his release exploded from him in heavy, convulsive spurts.

Jon woke with a cry dying on his lips and the cold air, convulsing against his bond as liquid heat filled his small clothes and bathed his crotch. He gasped, his chest heaving while he tried to catch his breath, his bonds cutting into his wrists and ankles he frantically tried to make sense of his confusion. He blinked in the darkness as his dream faded and reality reasserted itself with cruel severity. His cock was still hard and throbbing as it twitched, trying to expel seed he had already spent, the heat of which was already fading and the cold once again tried to claim him. He could swear he could still taste and smell her or, as he realized with dismay, what he believed she would taste and smell like.

He closed his eyes and the vision of Ygritte returned with frightening clarity that made his waning erection lurch and forced him to snap them back open. The flame-haired wildling had bewitched him with her body, her lascivious talk and mesmerizing, icy-blue eyes. It was the only explanation, but he still felt shame at his weakness because he knew deep down in his heart and lower that he would not be able to resist her if she made the offer for real. She stirred something in him, had awoken something in him and as detestable as it was, he knew he would forsake the words he had spoken in the Godswood to appease it. It seemed that a Snow was no match for fire and ice when it came down to it.

THE END