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She had to get out of there as fast as possible; Catelyn didn't know how long she'd been there.
The last thing she remembered was lying down with the bastard's arms around her, squeezing her breasts and covering her shoulders and neck with kisses.
She had committed one of the greatest sins; she had committed adultery against her good husband.
She had done things only whores did.
She had taken the bastard's cock in her mouth and sucked it with great pleasure. She had rubbed the bastard's cock against her face.
She had moaned and screamed like a whore at the touch of another man.
She had allowed a filthy bastard to touch her the way a husband touches his wife.
She had allowed a bastard to take her in a way her husband never had.
And worst of all, Catelyn Tully Stark loved it. She loved how the bastard ate her cunt, how he said dirty words about her husband, and how he squeezed her hips and bit her breasts as well as spit on her.
Catelyn had shamed her father's house, she had disgraced House Tully with what she had done.
From childhood, she had been taught that a wife should respect her Lord husband, love him, and be faithful to him until death; she should only bear her husband's children and never think of another man.
But for the first time in her life, Catelyn had fallen into sin.
She had believed that in these two moons, she would be the one in charge and would make the bastard see that she was the Lady of Winterfell and he was a mere, filthy bastard.
But in a matter of two days, the bastard humiliated her and saw right through her, making her act in ways she never thought she could be.
Catelyn had lied, concealing her actions against her friend Petyr.
Looking back, she realized she had enjoyed humiliating little Petyr.
She made him do things only a pet would do, ordering him to humble himself, to do everything Catelyn commanded, and if he didn't, she punished him.
On the other hand, Lysa had been loving and affectionate with Petyr.
Her sister defended Bealish from the humiliations she inflicted, but Petyr still preferred being with her to Lysa.
All her life Catelyn believed that such behavior was only for bastards, who would do anything to humiliate, take, and possess everything they couldn't have.
But she had been like that as a child, throwing tantrums if she didn't get her way, slapping Petyr if he didn't comply with her demands or if he didn't humiliate himself enough for her to sit on him.
She was a wicked woman.
She had hidden that side of herself long ago, buried and forgotten it since the day Brandon died.
She wanted to explore that path with Brandon and no one else.
She wanted her betrothed to treat her roughly.
In fact, it was thanks to Catelyn that Petyr challenged Brandon to a duel.
She had pushed little Petyr to challenge Brandon if he so desperately wanted her hand.
She knew her friend could die, so when she saw her betrothed about to kill Petyr, she intervened.
She stopped a murder and discovered that watching Brandon fight had thrilled her in a strange way, a way a Lady should never behave.
And here she was, a married woman with five children, sexually fulfilled in a way she'd never been before, four of her children asleep in their rooms, her husband away with their eldest son.
She had to put an end to this; she'd gone too far.
At this moment, Catelyn hated herself with all her heart.
She may never have loved Ned sexually, but she loved him dearly, for being a good man, a father to her children, and they loved their father.
She had failed them all: her father, her husband, and her children.
Catelyn had spent so much time watching the bastard for a full moon.
She saw his every move, his training, when he ate and when he went to the bathroom. She knew his routines when he slept and when he left his room.
She had been so stupid that the bastard had been aware of her every move.
How long had he been planning this? Did the bastard hate her so much that he would do this to her?
She had so many questions and feared the answers, but now the most important thing was that she had to get out of there without being caught.
The other thing was that she prayed no one had heard her moans and screams. Although the bastard's rooms were separate from everyone else's and no one slept in the rooms next door, someone might have heard them.
Without another word, she removed the bastard's hands from her breasts and got out of bed.
When she stood, she felt a pain in her hips, and her legs trembled from the pleasure she attributed to receiving it.
She had been treated like an object, used and taken like a whore.
But she was also to blame.
She had kissed the bastard's body, marked his neck, kissed his chest, and run her tongue all over him.
She looked at herself in the silver mirror the bastard had on his wall and gasped in surprise at her reflection.
Her lips were bruised, her hair a mess. She hurriedly searched her neck and breasts for hickeys or bite marks and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw she had none.
AN:-
EXTRA CHAPTERS AS I PROMISED
YOU SEXY BASTARDS HAVE BEEN GREAT
KEEP THE GRIND UP AND SENT POWERSTONES UP HERE, AS RANKING GOES HIGHER MORE CHAPTERS WILL COME.