choicely | open post;

( geralt isn't surprised by the ferocity of her response. he's probably lucky that she even let him get his pants down just enough that he was able to get his cock out. as soon as he gets his hand around his dick, she's there, giving him something else to wrap around his cock.

he grits his teeth, reaching to steady her with his hands on her hips even if he doesn't think she needs it. yennefer is graceful and elegant at the worst of times and she knows what she's doing. he might know how to work her body but she knows how to work his too.

she takes him inside of her so quickly, so urgently that he loses his breath and gasps her name out before he leans in and presses his mouth against her heated skin, slicking his tongue over her nipple again. )

[ She's made a slight error in being so greedy for this; as soon as she plunges herself down on his cock, it's a sufficient shock to her nerves, suddenly going from emptiness to being so completely full of him, and she has to sit and take a breath for a moment, and then it's just the two of them sitting silent for a while, his hands on her hips and hers gripping his arms as she lets her cunt adjust to his girth.

It's his mouth on her that finally spurs her to start moving, his tongue swirling against the hardened peak of her nipple, and her hand flies up to keep him there, fingers tangling in his hair as she finally starts to ride him the way she'd assured him she would — long and slow movements that draw her up the length of his cock and back down again until he's fully buried, a small breath punched out of her lungs each time.

Pretty soon, she starts to moan from it, small sounds slipping through into every exhale, as her rhythm becomes more purposeful, dragging out the rolls of her hips each time she's got him balls-deep inside to rock back and forth. ]

( hearing her react to him, to his cock is exactly what he wants. he would have sent a smug smile up in her direction if she hadn't curled her hand around the back of his head and held him there like she doesn't want him to go anywhere.

geralt's content with letting her move, letting her dictate things because it's not like he doesn't get absolute enjoyment from feeling her raise up on his cock before sinking down, settling him deep inside of her. he pants, biting at her nipple before he looks up at her and finally gives her that grin that he's been wanting to.

his fingers rake along her back and he very seriously considers ripping her dress but doesn't just in case she doesn't have another one. )

[ It isn’t that she minds letting him take control while they’re fucking, but in this particular moment she wants to own it, especially since he’d caught her by surprise in approaching her downstairs; this, by extension, is her way of seizing it back, at least for the start of it in how she mounts his cock, how she rides him at her desired pace, how she urges him to her tits so he can suck and lick and bite at her until she’s wearing the marks from his mouth.

It’s when he glances up from her and delivers that grin, so blatant and self-satisfied, that she grips his face in her hand, digs her fingers into his jaw, and kisses him to try and wear that look off of his mouth. It likely won’t work, since he usually only enjoys it when she’s rougher with him, but it doesn’t mean she won’t make the attempt. ]

I hope you had no plans of going anywhere. [ She rounds her hips down on him again, hard enough for her to feel the vibration of impact when her thighs smack into his. ] Because you’re not leaving this bed now.

( oh, what a hardship that's going to be. staying in bed with her while they fuck each other to exhaustion. he thinks if that's how they're going to spend the time he's confined to this bed, then he can deal with it.

and he can't help but laugh again though that laugh quickly dissolves into a sharp moan when she sinks down on him, hard enough to send an answering shiver through his body. )

Fortunately for you, my plans tonight were minimal.

( if he hadn't run into her, all he would have done was drink and leave. )

Good. We're going to do this until I can't feel my legs, and then you're going to see about getting us some real food.

[ Real food, she means, and not whatever slop they're trying to pass off as edible downstairs, same as with the ale. But that's a distant consideration, and not one she's going to think about when she's occupied with something much more pressing — specifically, making herself come on Geralt's cock and then maybe taunting him enough so that he'll roll them over and thrust into her hard enough to test the very foundations of this bedframe. ]

More resting?

[ That is how he'd put it earlier, when it was the two of them sitting across a table from one another behaving as if it wasn't going to come down to this regardless, and she wraps her arms around him, draping them atop his shoulders as she rocks a little faster in his lap, seizing his next moan with another hungry press of her lips to his. ]

( oh, he does like when she gets demanding and stern. he's not going to tell her that but he thinks she knows. considering his size and strength, he should be the one doing the ordering but it's her, it's always been her.

he doesn't get a chance to answer her question because her mouth is there, making more demands that he is powerless to not give her. he splays a hand at the small of her back, giving her something to brace against and balance while she fucks herself down on his cock.

when she has to take a moment to breathe, he says: )

Do you need to go find your dear friend, Yennefer? Perhaps he's downstairs waiting for your return right now.

[ If he didn't inwardly enjoy her bossiness, at least in part, there is no doubt in her mind that he would make his annoyance known — he might not be the particularly chatty type, but nothing has ever kept Geralt of Rivia in a situation if he does not wish to be there himself, even in some small way.

But she does not always need words to bid him stay beneath her; there have been moments when all that is required is a simple look between them and he finds her warm and willing against his fingers, or beneath his tongue.

She might not notice until much later that his hand is cradling her, guiding her, keeping her from losing control of her momentum — especially when he utters that taunt across her mouth and it nearly prompts a breath of a laugh. ]

Dear friend? [ She punctuates the retort with a firmer drive of her hips, seating herself on him harder to try and make him groan. ] Is that what he seemed to you? Like anyone of consequence?

Hmm.

( no, that's not what he seemed like. he seemed like a throwaway, like someone she was going to use for something and then send on his way. hopefully that something wasn't anything important since geralt is fairly certain that she's not going to see him again.

so, geralt just smiles up at her, mouthing at her chin and jaw while she moves, while she sinks down harder against him, drawing out a sharp moan. the moan turns into a laugh and he licks at her throat, digging her fingers into her back to keep himself anchored. )

I suppose that means I'm of more consequence than he is?

Is that what you want me to say?

[ If he'd even worked up the nerve to come back and look for her after Geralt had all but frightened him off, she imagines he's likely given up by now in searching, writing her off as someone unimportant — which is ironic, considering she's done the same for him long before this moment. She doesn't necessarily want to afford any credit to Geralt, however, for diverting her so successfully — even though they're both up here in this room doing something that tends to be so distracting.

Her eyes briefly flutter shut as he mouths over her skin, her jawline, making her skin prickle where he's caressing her, and after a moment her pace becomes slower, gentler, as she's flushed with delirious warmth; unconsciously, she might even be trying to prolong this more than she realizes, as her voice leaves her in a lower murmur. ]

Do you want me to tell you that you matter?

I know I mattered to you. Once.

( it hadn't been too long ago, he thinks. not long when it comes to them and how long they've known each other now. he doesn't know if maybe that's changed with space and time but it hasn't for him.

he peers up at her, eyes glassy, mouth tipped open as he presses forward and kisses her chin again. )

Is that different now? Do I not?

( he will be...fine if that's the case. he won't exactly be thrilled and he's not going to stay afterward if it is but he will understand. )

[ It irritates her, like she has nettle juice itching underneath her skin and can't scratch deep enough to make the feeling stop when he says things like that to her — the uncomfortable prickling that accompanies the realization that what he's saying isn't entirely untrue. She doesn't know why it feels like it'd be giving him a certain level of satisfaction by admitting to it, telling him to his face what he means to her, but her first instinct is to resist saying so.

The fact that she's here with him now should be more than enough, shouldn't it? That she's here in this room, in this bed, with him buried inside her and her already gasping for breath, clenching around him? Does this not serve as proof of how little things between them have actually changed?

She slows in her rhythm, but doesn't stop altogether, realizing that he's looking to her now, searching her eyes, and before she can think better of it she's taking his face between both hands and kissing him tenderly. ]

I could have stayed downstairs. [ But she hadn't, and she wants to believe that can speak for itself. ] I could have left.

( he doesn't know why he chances ruining this with questions like that. he's not usually one to talk, not like this especially not during sex. even with her, he tends to be quiet, show what he feels in other ways but this is a different time all together and he'd spoken.

he doesn't know if he's pushed too far because he can feel her slowing down but she doesn't make to move. instead, she takes his face in her hands ands he speaks, staying where she is. that kiss is tender, slow, and it shakes him.

he closes his eyes because he doesn't know what to do or say. he knows that this isn't going to heal whatever wounds are between them but it's something. )

You could have.

( and yet, she was here, with him, in his room, tucked away and wrapped around him. it's something. it's an answer and it makes him want to cling to her. )

[ It's the closest she's ever veered to telling him something that could threaten to split her wide open, leave her heart exposed and vulnerable and right there for someone to reach into her chest and pluck it out. She could have ignored what he asked, pretended she never heard it at all, kissed him to distract him just long enough so that he forgets he even broached the subject. The fact that she'd responded is telling in and of itself.

But now she can feel her own control of the situation beginning to slip through her fingers and she likes that less, so she plants a hand against his chest to gently push him into laying back against the bed, rearing up over him with a fresh rolling of her hips. ]

Next time we're getting more clothes off of you first. [ It goes unspoken too but she wants to see him, feel more of his skin beneath her fingers, experience the delicious slide of bodies or the tips of her nipples grazing his scarred chest. ] And a bath.

[ He doesn't smell, not really, not worse than she has smelled on him in the past, but again, it's a selfish declaration, perhaps just wanting to put him in one so she can join him there and fuck him again until they splash all of the water out of the tub. ]

Next time?

( of all the things that she says, that's what geralt picks up. not the fact that he needs a bath or he needs to take off clothes. no, it's the fact that there will be a next time and she's the one making that claim, not him.

he peers up at her and laughs, unable to help himself. laughs at the fact that she wants him to bathe and she wants there to be a next time. he leans in closer and presses his mouth to her jaw before he nods because fine, he'll take a fucking bathe if she wants. )

Are you going to be bathing with me?

Isn't that what I said?

[ As if she hadn't uttered the words more like a passing thought, only to realize she'd voiced them aloud after the fact; it's not until he calls attention to it that she's newly aware of how she's putting all of this into context, that she's already starting to consider this the first of many orchestrated tumbles. But she also has the faint sense that only once won't be enough to adequately get him out of her system if they're planning on each going their separate ways once they've left this room.

And she would like, very much, to be able to get him out of her system, or at least to feel as though she has.

But the sensation of him mouthing against her jawline as she rocks over him, on him, makes her clench around his cock, makes her slick him anew, and she braces herself down closer to his face, propping herself up on a forearm next to his head. ]

I have to. I'll have you all over me by then.

You make it sound like such a bad thing.

( she doesn't, not really. but he points it out to both get under her skin and to see what she says to him. his hands grip hard at her hips and he tries to sink her further down on his cock, tries to bury himself deeper inside of her because he doesn't want her to ever have him out of her system.

he wants her to always have a touch of him inside of her or on her just as he knows he'll always feel like that for her as well. )

Like I'm that bad to have all over you.

( and now that she's said that, he's going to make sure it happens. )

It is when you smell more of Roach than me.

[ She wouldn't really turn up her nose at the smell of horse, not truly, unless he'd been in the saddle for weeks without anything resembling a bath and then attempted this same thing with her. She would've overturned a bucket of water on him before she'd let him press against her like that, but there is something to be said for the scent of clean sweat, of what happens when they've dripped enough to slide against one another and enjoy that slickness.

Perhaps she'll call for the innkeeper to draw them a bath solely with the intention of getting to fuck him in it.

But she wants to goad him on, to see what he'll do if she challenges him enough, so she fixes her gaze on him, quiet and steady, and controls the pace of her hips no matter how he tries to make her move himself. ]

Then get yourself all over me. Your sweat, your spit, your come. Until I can't tell where I end and you start.

( geralt's not overly easy to goad but there are buttons that she can press, places she can twist and manipulate and he knows it. he knows she knows it as well so he keeps his expression neutral even while she starts a slow, steady grind. he wants more. of fucking course he wants more but she's determined not to give it to him.

still, he presses up closer to her, lips hovering in front of hers and then he licks at her mouth since she wants to be covered in his smell and taste and everything else. )

Then, you might need a bath as well. How untoward.

[ It's even more damning when he licks at her, tongue curling a wet stripe across her mouth, which only makes her squeeze around his cock where they're joined together, like her body is betraying her in its natural response to slowly being bathed in him before she can even pretend she doesn't enjoy it.

As a retort, she reaches up to curve her fingers in his hair, over the nape of his neck, and slowly maneuvers him down to her throat, wanting to feel his tongue elsewhere on her skin. ]

It's the least you can do for rendering me so filthy. [ As if they've never gone at it for hours until they're both dripping with sweat, until the room itself smells of sex and heat. She wonders if he's thinking of those nights as well, now. ] I'll get into that bath and then I'll fuck you in it.

( geralt's response to that is a huff of a laugh against her neck and then he licks at her throat, finding the spot where her pulse thumps against her skin and biting it. he doesn't pull away immediately, worrying that skin between his teeth to maybe make a mark.

but, he licks at it once he's satisfied and then he eases back up, reaching down and grabbing at her ass to try and sink her further onto his cock. )

That would waste a lot of water, wouldn't it? ( he is not arguing, though. )

Wouldn't it waste more if we bathed separate?

[ Her question is hushed, rushed even, a tumble of words that almost stutters from her mouth when he licks over her skin and then bites against her pulse in a way that makes her cunt pulse right along with it, grip him tight where they're joined. She'll be wearing the marks from his teeth long after he's gone, and perhaps she won't even move to heal them immediately, bruises she can stroke her fingers over well beyond the time that the bed has cooled.

She might even be so distracted by him worrying a mark into her throat that she won't resist when he coaxes her into sinking down further, letting his hands round her down until his cock is buried, and there she rolls her hips, savoring the sensation of being deeply filled. ]

But I think you want me to come for you first. And I know you want to come for me.

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?

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