choicely | open post;

Yes, that's why I've trained so much. I wanted my thighs to make just the perfect, pillowy seat for mages.

( not that he minds what she's done, of course. he pulls his hands away to give her space and once she settles down, he wraps one arm around he waist to pull her back against him. )

Why would you sit anywhere else then?

Pillowy is a far cry from sturdy, which these are.

[ She doesn't struggle against him when he slips an arm around her waist; perhaps she's more relaxed now than she was when they first walked into the room, because now she reclines against him without any resistance, tipping her head back against his shoulder, her legs falling to drape across his longer ones.

She breathes out slowly, head lolling to one side until her nose nudges against his jaw, even in a manner that could be considered a nuzzling in the right light. ]

Are you asking me to sit in your lap in lieu of choosing any other seat from now on?

No, that's not what I'm saying. I certainly wouldn't mind it but there could be situations where it wouldn't work.

( if they were in the midst of something intense and confrontational, having her sit on his lap might be a distraction. he laughs though at the possibility. )

But, I don't mind that you're sitting here now. You fit very well.

Perhaps, but it is an amusing thought.

[ And she's certainly occupied much more uncomfortable seats than this; the fact that she hasn't immediately shifted to vacate his lap is probably the most telling part of all, as is the soft hum that docks in her throat when she draws the scent of his skin into her senses.

She may have taken the soap to him, but there's still his unmistakable, almost indescribable musk underneath, and she isn't shrinking away from him in the slightest, pressing her lips to the underside of his chin. ]

At least the tub isn't too cramped to fit us both. [ She kisses his neck again, over the steady thrum of his pulse. ] Perhaps there's even enough space for you to reach my back with the soap now.

Perhaps there is.

( the words are hummed out and he doesn't immediately move to grab for the soap since he's enjoying the feel of her mouth against his neck too much to move.

instead, he reaches around her and brushes a thumb against her breast, tipping his head back and to the side to give her more space. )

Does your back need a good scrubbing?

[ She only hums too in response, at first, the sound adopting a breathier quality when he slips an arm around her, his thumb tracing the outside swell of her breast. The time before had been hasty, frantic, groping, but a case can be made for how enjoyable it is when they don't rush through things, his hand almost doing more already to heat her than the water itself can. ]

More than my back. I told you, I'm wearing the scent of you all over me.

[ That isn't voiced as a complaint, however; she says it closer to an amused observation, and shifts back into him again, arching her back subtly to try and direct his hand over more of her breast while it's close enough. ]

How unfortunate.

( while geralt is absolutely a fan of how she typically smells, he's not going to be upset that she smells like him for at least a little while.

he takes the hint of her movement and cradles her breast with his hand, squeezing and kneading before the touch of his fingers grows heavier against her nipple. )

Maybe I don't want to wash that away.

Why am I not surprised?

[ If she had it in her to be well and truly honest about the subject, she'd be more willing to confess that she doesn't mind it either — even if her nose tends to wrinkle up in sensitivity around his scent, even if he often smells more of horse than man depending on how many hours he's spent in the saddle.

But the tub itself is something she suggested knowing full well that they might get distracted from the act of bathing, and his hand strafing over her breast only confirms her suspicions as she draws herself up into his touch, head nudged to his while he plays with her. ]

Are you going to use this bath to make me messier?

It was definitely something I was considering.

( geralt doesn't make a move immediately, deciding that he's fine with just moving his hand over her breast and listening to her speak for the moment. he hums, thumbing over her nipple while he peers at her. )

Though, I seriously doubt you brought us both into the tub simply for the art of soaping up and getting clean.

( he knows how you can be, yennefer. )

Oh, merely considering while your hand appears to have other ideas at the moment.

[ That isn't voiced as a complaint, not when it leaves her more softly, and her gaze has fallen to where most of their bodies are submerged beneath the water; there's a lack of haste in her demeanor, nothing that indicates she wants to hoist herself out of the tub any time soon, though it might become a necessity sooner rather than later once the water gets cold. ]

Do I seem so diabolical to you?

[ She doesn't require his answer to that, especially not when her head has lolled back enough for her to lightly scrape her teeth against the firm angle of his jawline, her tongue dragging across the persistent steadiness of his pulse. ]

Yes, you do.

( there is quiet amusement in his voice though. she could absolutely be diabolical and manipulative but he doesn't think she's doing so right now.

he sighs and tips his head to the side to give her more space while he lazily twists her nipple between thumb and finger. )

You are absolutely the type to do one thing to get your way while making it seem like it wasn't your choice.

And yet I don't hear any complaints. Far from that, in fact.

[ It's not protest he's met with either, once his fingers have found the bud of her nipple, made more prominent each time she arches a bit more out of the water and the cool air meets her heated skin — only now, it's arousal that has rendered them hard and kept them that way for his touch to stir more within her.

Beneath the water, her thighs shift open to fall on either side of his, and she angles herself so that her rear is notched more prominently against his cock, initiating an idle rock of her hips. ]

But this — this is my choice.

This is your choice.

( his voice deepens, roughens as she rocks against his cock. it's nothing that's going to make him come just yet but it's enough to make his stomach churn and his blood start to heat.

he licks his lips and gives her nipple a sharper, longer twist before he soothes over it with his fingers. )

I'm glad that your choice and my choice seem to align.

( humming, he leans closer and slides his mouth against the side of her neck. )

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