To Heal A Lonely Heart

Are You Fucking Sorry?!

For too long, I hadn't felt him like this. His strong, heavy body settled between my legs, big hands groping me, tugging at my clothes while his lips claimed mine in an urgent kiss. All I could hear, smell, feel, taste was Geralt, and it made me dizzy. I didn't even realize that he ripped my corset apart until it was too late, the tearing sound of the leather making my head snap up, parting the kiss rather harshly.

"Geralt!" I gasped as he pulled the ruined piece of leather from my body.

"You can just conjure a new one," he growled, dropping the remainder of my beloved corset to the floor, diving back down to shove my blouse up my body, licking a broad stripe up my stomach as he went. Eyes dark, pupils blown. This wasn't my sweet, loving husband; this right now was the witcher, the animal, taking over. I shuddered at that thought.

My blouse was quickly discarded and Geralt latched back onto my lips, claiming my mouth, sharp teeth tugging on my bottom lip so hard I could taste blood. I moaned into the kiss.

His hands groped my aching breasts, kneading them and twisting my nipples almost to the point of pain. But the pain was more than welcome. All I could do was mewl for him as I clung onto his hair, tugging to get him even closer to me. Impossible, as my brain told me, but my body didn't listen; I needed him closer.

Geralt pressed his still growing hardness into me, making me buck my hips, rolling them against his bulge. He broke the kiss, lips red and puffy.

"Fuck, love, I can smell how wet you are for me," he growled lowly as he let the tips of his fingers ghost down my ribcage teasingly slow, making yet another wave of wetness soak into my pants. Goosebumps spread on my body, making him smirk darkly. He loved the effect he had on me, especially when he was rough and commanding.

Finally, finally, his fingers reached the hem of my trousers. Not even bothering to untie the laces, he ripped them down my legs, along with my boots and underwear. He got off the bed, standing at the edge, dropping my clothes to the floor with a thud.

I gasped when I was fully exposed to him, predator eyes taking me in like prey as I panted from just his touch and the thrill of him being this rough with me – he rarely was.

For a moment, he only stared at my heaving form, vulnerable, for him to take, to do whatever he wanted to me. In return, I stared up at him, trembling in anticipation, shivering under his hot stare.

"Look at you," he growled yet again, "So fucking desperate. You think you deserve to be fucked after acting like a bitch the whole week?"

I mewled, unable to speak. This was an act, he didn't really mean it, but oh gods, how it turned me on.

"Please," I whimpered, fingers gripping the sheets, my body writhing, "Please, oh fuck!"

"Are you sorry for the shit you said?" he asked, a brow cocked as he pulled off his tunic.

How did he expect me to answer when he did that? I pressed my eyes close to think straight.

"Are you?" I challenged, breaking with the game for only a moment.

And for only a moment, his expression changed, soft eyes now peering down at me.

"I am," he breathed.

"Then so I am. Now come here." I reached out my arms in an attempt to grab him and pull him onto the bed, but he was out of my reach.

Geralt chuckled, "Oh no. You're not in control, love. You're been bad, you deserve to be punished, don't you think?"

"Geralt, I swear, if you don't get your trousers off and fuck me right now, I'm going to get out of this bed and go get our son!" I threatened, wanting nothing more than for him to pound me into the mattress.