choicely | open post;

Do I?

( yes, he does. he absolutely wants to come for her right now and again and again. he wants to come inside and on her and all over her to both make sure that she doesn't forget him whenever they do part and that he has these memories to tide him over until they meet in the future.

he shudders as she sinks down on him, feeling himself pressed deep with her slickness cradling him. he licks his lips and then arches closer and licks at her mouth before he pulls her into another long, lingering kiss. )

Yes, I do. I want both of those things.

( before she takes that as teasing and decides to try and pull away from him. )

Then roll us over and fuck me properly.

[ It's a pleasurable position, to be sure, and she could very well come exactly like this, sitting on him, riding him until her body tenses and all of that pressure gives way to a flood that drenches his cock — but part of her wants to feel him rutting hard between her thighs, to wrap her legs around him and let him take her against the mattress without holding anything back. It doesn't matter if she leaves here with bruises when she knows she wants them already.

They're both done teasing at this particular juncture, and for a while she might even be done with talking, at least until he gives her what she's asking for — demanding, really.

But somehow, she knows that he'll make good on it, especially when it's clear they've both had enough of slow and building. ] And don't you dare come until I say so.

And what happens if I don't listen to you? If I decide to fuck you until I come when I want to come.

( with that being said, he grabs her around the waist and rolls them, shifting until she's on her back and he's on top of her. he reaches for her hands, pinning them above her head, one of his own hands around her wrists. he doesn't expect her to keep them there but he wants the sight of her to be burned into his memories. )

What are you going to do if I decide to ignore your command, hm?

Then you’d better make sure I’ve come first by then.

[ She knows he won’t leave her unsatisfied; he also knows better than to do that, but she’s unprepared for how much she likes it when he pins he into the bed with his weight, gathers her wrists up in one hand and draws her arms up above her head, stretching the line of her body out long beneath him and leaving her displayed for his pleasure.

The position has the effect of making her arch, her breasts thrust upward when her back curves, and she’s breathing harder against his mouth without meaning to give away her enjoyment of it, even if he can probably feel how wet she is with even the slightest shift of his hips. ]

I know you’ve been waiting to do this, so do it.

Is that an order?

( and just because she demands it, he doesn't do it. he doesn't move away from her or anything ridiculous like that but he slows himself down intentionally, keeping his hands around the wrists over her head. )

Or is that just a request? Do you want me to move because you cannot stand it just as much as I can't? Tell me.

( he has been wanting to do this but he wants to hear it from her too. )

It's a —

[ He slows, of all the times to do it in, and her words cut off in a frustrated grunt as she rocks herself up against him, trying to fuck herself on him if he won't do it for her — but the angle isn't right for it, and she has even less of an advantage when he's pinned her wrists to the bed. She isn't fighting him on it, though, isn't struggling to get free, not when her thighs are squeezing at his hips and she's still slick around his cock, godsdamn him.

But then she realizes what he wants to hear from her — what he wants as proof that she wants this just as much, and maybe she can let go of her pride long enough to admit it, confess the truth. ]

I — I want you to move because I've been aching for you to fuck me since I first saw you downstairs. [ It spills out in the space between her mouth and his, as her lips caress his on almost every syllable. ] Surely you could sense it then.

( yennefer was difficult to read on the best of days so while he'd wanted to hope that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, he hadn't known when they'd seen each other. he'd taken a chance and that chance was paying off right now.

for a moment after she makes her confession, he's quiet, just looking down at her, taking in a face that has become so important to him before he kisses her and fucks into her at the same time. his breath gusts across her face as he moves, resumes the thrusting that had gotten them to this point.

he whispers her name against her cheek, mouth open against her skin as his hips pump harder and harder, filling the small room with the sounds of their pleasure. )

[ How much of this has been the two of them circling one another, uncertain, unwilling to take the first step forward and cross the invisible line that so is so often drawn between them? There's enough stubbornness that exists on both sides to rival even what chaos is capable of, she thinks, with a wry twist of her mouth that dissolves altogether when his mouth comes down on hers, when he fucks into her at the same time so that the moan that spills out of her directly feeds right into him, like he's drawn her sounds into himself.

But she doesn't pry her lips away from his; if anything, she wants him close to her, wants their breaths to mingle, to keep their mouths practically fused. Even when she has to gasp for air, she doesn't stray far, arching up into him as best as she's able with her wrists pinned, letting him feel her desire in every inch of her body as she wraps her legs around his waist and lets him sink deeper into her.

She can hear the bed creaking beneath them, scraping across the floor; it would come as no surprise to her if they're making enough noise now for anyone within earshot to know what they're doing in here, but she doesn't care. Selfishly, she wants them to hear how well she's being fucked, and there's nothing feigned in the pleasure he's stoking in her, the way the tension within builds higher and hotter until she threatens to unravel beneath him, her thighs shaking on either side of his hips. ] Don't stop — Geralt —

( she doesn't need to worry, he's not going to stop. he couldn't stop if he wanted to at this point in time, so wrapped up in her, so completely enamored and focused on their pleasure that everything around them seems to fade out for the moment.

her voice is still loud to his ears though, urging him on and he grunts as he fucks into her, muffling his moans and his gasps of her name against her mouth while he kisses her.

he finally let's go of her wrists because he wants to reach down, find her clit and rub at it vigorously to make sure her orgasm is as hot and hard as he knows his is going to be. )

Come on, come on, come on.

( he urges her on but finds that he can't hold himself back, fucking into her one last time and holding himself there while he spills inside of her. his body stiffens, tightening up like a cord, but his fingers keep rubbing at her clit to make sure she goes right over that edge with him. )

[ Once he’s given her what she wants — what they both want — there’s something in him that always seems driven to see it through, like he won’t be satisfied with himself until he’s satisfied her too. That single-mindedness makes him a lethal fighter, capable of taking down any strong threat — but it also makes him the sort of lover that she doesn’t want to surrender easily, because she hasn’t had it as good before or since him.

By the time he shoves a hand between her legs, seeking out her clit, she almost cries out against his mouth; she’s so tender, and the build so great, that she can feel it slippery where they’re joined, where he rubs over her, where the strokes of his cock inside her are rendered audibly slick from her arousal, and it’s inevitable, her release, but she’s holding off, denying herself that surrender for just a few moments more —

He pulls her, end over end, into that abyss with him, spilling into her with a rough grunt, and it only takes those next presses of his fingers for her to come apart, dissolving into uncontrolled shudders as her moan breaks off in her throat. She’s already sweaty, hair sticking to the sides of her neck and a visible sheen on her skin, making a bath even more necessary, but in the immediate aftermath she doesn’t move, doesn’t push him off of her either. Instead, she brings a hand down to gently brush some silver hair back from where it’s hanging in front of his face, her touch gently skimming along his temple, as she gazes over his features, trying to decipher his reaction. ]

( in the immediate aftermath, all geralt can really do is pant and press his face against her neck, smelling the scent of sweat and sex on her now that they've finished. he swallows a few times before he feels her hands brushing at his hair and that's enough to make him pick up his head to peer down at her.

he wants to say something but he's not sure what he should say. they've been apart for quite some time but it feels like no time at all after this. his eyes skim over her face, her features and he leans down and presses the lightest of kisses against her lips before he eases off of her to the side.

he doesn't completely separate from her, keeping an arm and a leg across her as he settles down. )

I didn't expect that tonight.

( because he hadn't expected to see her. )

[ It's better for them both if neither has anything to say right away — and there is always that moment in the immediate thereafter when words seem to fail them, when all they can do is breathe one another in and try to come back to the present after having something that practically transcends it. (Not that she'd ever say as much to him, but what she experiences with him is unlike any other lover she's had, even if her bed has been distinctly cold over the last several years.)

Selfishly, she doesn't want him to go too far so she's privately glad when he doesn't, rolling over slowly to her side to face him while they both attempt to catch their breaths. ]

In fairness, you didn't expect me from the beginning.

[ Not in Rinde, when he'd been looking for a sorcerer and found her instead. ]

No, that's true. I wasn't.

( he sometimes thinks about what sort of life he'd be leading if their paths hadn't intersected. it's hard to think of things now without her there either in the middle of things or at least on the periphery when they haven't seen each other in some time.

she's always there though, never far from his mind.

he sighs and leans closer, pressing his lips to her shoulder. )

Who was that you were with? What did you have him with you for?

[ She doesn't completely flinch away from him, but there is a part of her that stills when he immediately shifts to make reference of the man she'd been with — someone of little meaning and even less consequence, but someone he'd deemed as important enough to dwell on in spite of the fact that she's very clearly in his bed.

So initially she just blinks at him, inwardly wondering why he seems bent on mentioning it now of all times. ]

I hardly have him now, do I? [ A chuckle slips from her, mostly conjured by how relaxed she is; if they hadn't just fucked, she'd be a lot more defensive about the question. ]

Someone I thought might be useful, but only turned out to be another disappointment.

Hm.

( he doesn't press it, having just been curious about what she'd been planning with someone in tow. but, he's gone now and she's here for however long she's going to stay.

so, he drops the question and sighs, stroking his fingers along the hip his hand's landed on. )

When do you have to leave?

Not immediately.

[ Which isn't a firm answer, but it's more telling that she isn't confining herself to an immediate time of departure, which wouldn't have been the case if their paths had never crossed at this tavern; there is a part of her, however slight, that is tempted to be the one who leaves first, solely due to the number of times she's rolled over to find the bed cold beside her, the right amount of coin left on the table to pay for the room's use.

She doesn't shy away from his hand either, shifting onto her side to let his touch follow the curve of her hip. ]

Have you tired of me already?

No.

( that wasn't the reason he asked. more that he wanted to see how much time he was going to be able to steal with her before one of them had to go. her answer is vague but he knows it leaves her flexibility in case something happens between them that sends one of them stomping off.

his touch settles heavily against her hip and he taps his fingers against the curve there before he looks back up at her. )

That won't happen.

[ Some small, nagging part of her isn't convinced that she can believe him when he says that, especially when she's woken up to an empty room in the past — but what does it truly mean that she wants to, wants to trust that she'll wake up to find him occupying the space next to hers, that this room will still smell of sweat and sex hours from now because they haven't yet tired of one another?

She isn't willing to let herself, not yet, but for now, while they're here, he has her, and she considers both him and the current state of their remaining clothes with a small scrunch of her nose. ]

Shall we summon that bath next? Or perhaps ask the innkeeper to bring up a tray and a pitcher of wine, so we might replenish ourselves?

[ The implication there being she's far from done with him yet, but rather than roll back between the bedcovers and continue, she has more selfish designs on getting him into a tub. ]

( a smile flickers it's way across his face at the choices. wine would be good but he thinks wine could be for later. he doesn't think he needs something just yet.

so, he rolls onto his back, reaching over to slide his hand up and down her stomach while he pretends to think. )

Bath, perhaps. I don't feel a need for wine just yet but we did just make a mess of each other.

( so yes, a bath. he thinks that would be the best thing for them. )

[ She might not ever admit to it, but she enjoys the casual way he touches her after they fuck — like an afterthought, something he might not even fully be aware he's doing, his hand coming down on her skin to keep preserving some physical tether of connection between them. ]

Good.

[ She leans forward, pressing her lips to the round of his shoulder, once and then again before she grazes her teeth into the meat of him, hardly a significant injury given how many other injuries he's endured. ]

Your room, you ask them to bring one up. [ She'll crawl up the bed to position herself beneath the covers, leaning back against the headboard with a satisfied smile on her mouth. ]

( geralt really doesn't want to get up but someone is going to have to and she certainly doesn't seem to be making any moves. scowling, he moves to sit up, putting his feet on the floor.

the chill hits him immediately and he grumbles under his breath about having to get up and leave the room while he puts on some clothes. he knows that the bath will be worth it but he still doesn't want to make the effort.

but he does, departing the room to find someone who can help with a bath while she lounges lazily in bed. )

[ Meanwhile, Yennefer is more than content to linger abed, although she does make a point to draw the covers up over herself so she doesn't surprise an unwitting maid downstairs when the bath is inevitably dragged upstairs for them to make use of.

Truly, she'd thought it would have taken more goading from her to convince Geralt to handle it himself, but his eventual willingness to do so speaks to something that she may not fully be prepared to address between them.

It doesn't take long, however, for him to return, and Yennefer props herself up against the pillows in quiet observation, the sheets drawn up to her shoulders — although one arm slips free — as she watches the tub first hauled into the room before it's filled with buckets of steaming water. If any of the maids cast a furtive glance in the direction of the bed, she doesn't acknowledge them significantly; clearly they have seen much lewder displays, and besides, her eye is drawn more to the silhouette of the witcher in the doorway, watching the tub be prepared for them before moving to pay them sufficient coin for their troubles.

When the door finally closes again, returning them to their privacy, she sits up, the sheet falling to her waist, and gives a nod in the direction of the bath. ]

You first. [ Is it a demand made because she wants to watch him strip for her? Probably. ]

( geralt makes sure the door is locked behind the attendants and then he turns to her, grunting in amusement when she instructs him to go in first. he doesn't say anything as he moves to take his clothes off, staring at her as he does.

he tugs his shirt off first, letting it drop on the floor and then takes his pants off, kicking those aside. he stands there, letting her enjoy the view, before he huffs and moves to slide into the bath.

the water is warm and he sighs as he settles down, unable to keep that noise of pleasure from slipping out. )

[ The first time between them, after countless days of not even so much as being in the same room, had been defined by something more raw and desperate, each of them clutching onto each other and almost freeing only what they needed to before he sank himself inside her. Now, the hour seems to stretch out longer since she's chosen to stay, and she finds herself content to lay back in the bed and watch him slowly disrobe, her eyes shamelessly roaming over every part of his body that he uncovers as if it is a treat only for her.

She's certain she's not imagining the brief pause he affords to let her drink her fill before finally sinking into the water — which he makes look very inviting, based on that groan, but even as she finally extricates herself from the bedsheets and drifts over to join him, she doesn't slip into the tub right away.

Instead, she reaches for some of the soap that has been set aside for them to use, kneeling beside the bath and dipping it into the water before running it across the expanse of his chest, all without uttering a word. ]

I smell that badly?

( his tone is soft though, surprised. he'd thought she'd join him in the tub and things would happen from there but she does something different and he's surprised. ordinarily, he might be a little irritated by someone washing him but he relaxes under her ministrations. )

Or do you think I won't do a good job of it so you're making sure that someone else does?

( he doesn't know why she's doing it and he's curious. )

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