To Heal A Lonely Heart

I've Missed You, My Love

The – still clothed – hot spots of our desire ground against each other deliciously, the fabric providing some friction, but it wasn't enough. Geralt shifted, lifting me off the wall. I clung on tighter to him, but I knew he wouldn't let me fall. He walked us to our bed blindly, letting me drop down on the soft mattress with a bounce.

He remained standing in front of the bed for some time, staring down at me, as if mesmerized by my heaving form. Finally, he pushed down his trousers, letting his rock hard length spring free, and climbed into bed, settling between my open legs.

"I missed you so fucking much," he mumbled against my flushed skin as he kissed his way down to the waistband of my panties, pulling the thin fabric off my body using his teeth. I shuddered.

This wouldn't be like the soft and sensual goodbye-sex we had the night before he left, no. This would be primal. I could already tell that at some point I'd end up on my hands and knees. It was always like that, but this time he'd been gone for longer than usual.

Geralt discarded the soaked fabric of my panties next to the bed and crawled up my body, growling darkly at my quivering.

"We haven't even started, my love," he growled out words now, just as dark. His pupils were blown with passion and lust, their intensity making it hard for me to look at them for too long.

I loved it. The longer he'd been gone, the more dominant, the more animalistic he became upon his arrival. I hated that he had to leave, but the longer he'd been gone, the better his return was – in terms of joy when we saw each other as well as the making up in bed. I thanked every god I knew for giving me this man to love.

"You're so wet, my love. I can smell how much you need me," my husband's dark voice came from right next to my ear as he nipped on my pulse point, making me gasp sharply.

"Please," I whined pathetically, "Please! I missed you so much! Just... just make me yours."

My core was aching for him and I was shaking in anticipation, panting from just his dark stare.

"Hmm. So good. So, so good. Begging for me like that, my love," he growled again, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head with one of his hands, gripping tightly, but not too much to hurt me.

If you didn't know Geralt, and wondered what he'd be like in bed, just from how he looked, this was what came to your mind.

With his free hand, he led my legs to wrap around his waist, then used it to guide his hot, pulsing and incredibly hard length into my core. I cried out at the stretch, only to be silenced by and almost violent kiss. He let me adjust to his size before pulling back and slamming into me. He was grunting and groaning, his tight grip on my wrists and hip surely leaving bruises as he thrusted into me roughly at an animalistic fast pace. My moans rose in pitch, pathetic whimpers leaving my lungs. Within minutes, he had me careening towards the edge. I clamped down on him. I was close. So fucking close.

"Come for me, love," my husband's low growl commanded and who was I to disobey?

"Gera- ah!" I screamed, the tight knot in my belly exploding, my vision going white. I threw my head back, crying out my pleasure, chanting Geralt's name like a prayer. I tugged desperately at his grip on my wrists, and finally he let go. My hands flew to his hair, pulling him down to kiss him fervently as he fucked me lazily through my orgasm.

When I stopped quivering around him, he pulled out. I whined at the loss of him, only to let out a surprised squeal when he flipped me over onto my stomach, pulling my hips up with one hand, his other pushing my upper body face down into the pillows in between my shoulder blades.

I whimpered, completely at his mercy, as he entered me from behind, the head of his length stroking against my sweet spot deliciously.

"You're perfect," Geralt growled, kissing up my spine to the spot where my neck met my shoulder. I winced slightly when he sank his teeth in, gently nipping on my sensitive skin. "So fucking perfect."

Mewling, I rolled my hips back, urging – no pleading – him to move.

"Hmm. And so impatient," he growled against my neck.

His chest was resting against my back, our skin slick with sweat; his head remained resting against the side of my neck, sharp teeth nipping and nibbling at my shoulder. And then he finally started thrusting into me again; deep, powerful strokes stimulating every nerve. He had me screaming into the pillow within seconds: curses and desperate cries of his name.

I was so full of him, every sense focusing on him. It wasn't long before I felt him swell inside me, growing even harder and twitching. I clamped my walls around him involuntarily, coaxing a carnal groan from the man above me. His hand left my hip. Before I could wonder where it went, I felt it stroke circles on my clit, matching the fast thrusts of my husband.

For the second time today, the knot in my belly exploded, making me see white and shout out Geralt's name like it was the only word I knew. I clamped down on him, my walls fluttering around his length as he continued thrusting into me, twitching, close to his own release. It took three deep thrusts for him to follow me over the edge, a deep groan thundering through my ears. He rode out our high, rocking into me lazily as my walls milked him to the last drop. We were both panting, sweaty messes, the evidence of our pleasure running down the back of my thighs, but we couldn't care less.

Geralt pulled out of me, collapsing on the bed, breathing heavily. Weakly, I moved to rest my head on his chest, like I always did, his arm around my waist pulling me close. With closed eyes, I listened to his heartbeat. It was almost human now, meaning that his heart was racing insanely fast. But soon enough he calmed down.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked after a while, guilt and concern heavy in his voice.

"No, you didn't," I whispered, tracing the scars on his chest. "You were amazing. I missed you so much, minne. I love you."

"I missed you more, my love."