Hengfors, 1253
"So what's the problem?" Jaskier wondered as he came over to their table for a break from playing.
"I need to know the real story," Geralt growled angrily. "But no one will tell it to me because they're afraid of witchers."
He'd been increasingly more irritable ever since his revelation the previous year. He was trying so hard not to tell Robin how he felt that he was keeping her at a distance. The worst part was that she hadn't even appeared to notice, since she was spending so much time in Chaos.
And he still wasn't sleeping well, which certainly did nothing to improve his mood.
"Can't Robin just read their minds?" Jaskier pointed out.
She shook her head. "I wouldn't be able to find all the details Geralt needs. It's a tricky business, and they're all drunk. Their thoughts will be a mess."
"But," she decided next, standing and adjusting her dress to show more cleavage, "there are other ways to get what you want."
Geralt's eyes widened and Jaskier leaned against the wall to watch as Robin strode over to the table. She hadn't gotten rid of her dresses since redesigning her clothes, and she sometimes wore them when they were with other company for the night.
"What is she doing?" the witcher asked.
Jaskier smirked. "I believe she's using her womanly wiles to get you what you need."
Geralt watched as Robin smiled and laughed. The men were gazing at her, riveted by her every word, even though she wasn't saying much.
Soon, the entire story was pouring out of them. Geralt could hear every word.
But despite the result, he found himself growing more and more enraged as they flirted with her and she flirted back. He knew she didn't mean it, of course, but that didn't change how upset it made him.
He stood as she finished and came back to the table. The men's mouths dropped when Geralt grabbed her by the waist and kissed her passionately, taking her by surprise, then immediately hoisted her over his shoulder and took her upstairs to their room.
She giggled as Jaskier shook his head. "Getting closer, Geralt," he muttered as he began to pluck at his lute again. "Getting closer."
As soon as they were in their room and the door was shut, Geralt swung her off of his shoulder and pressed her against the wall, kissing her fiercely. She didn't question his fervor. She just wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back just as fiercely.
He lifted her and carried her to the bed, pressing her down into it and crawling on top of her, his cock already hard and straining against his pants. She gasped as he began to roughly suck marks in her neck as he tugged her dress down to expose her breasts.
He squeezed her breasts in his hands and kissed one of her nipples, sucking it as hard as he could, then doing the same to the other. Her back arched and she groaned, sealing her mouth around his thumb as he slipped it between her lips and then yanked her up to face him.
"Are you all right, Geralt?" she murmured, her eyes wide, her pupils blown with lust.
"I just need you," he confessed hoarsely as she undid the leather thong holding his hair back and pulled his shirt free from his waistband.
He pushed her skirt up and moaned as he breathed in. She was ready, and the discovery relieved him. He'd feared recently that she might have ceased to want him.
He removed his thumb from her mouth and brought the same hand between her legs, slipping three fingers inside her, pleased when she tipped her head back and started to move her hips. He rammed his fingers in and out of her, bending to viciously suck on her clit.
"Geralt!" she cried out, rewarding him with the first of many orgasms he had planned for her.
He shifted, pulling her dress off the rest of the way and tossing it on the floor, then undoing his pants. "I want you to suck my cock, little mage," he growled as it sprang free.
She slipped forward, reaching for his hips and immediately taking him into her mouth. He gathered all of her hair up in his fist and pushed her head down, making her take all of him. She moaned and started to suck as he bobbed her head for her, perfectly following his cues.
He pulled her free quickly, letting her catch her breath as he took the rest of his clothes off. When he was naked, he pushed her back onto the bed and crawled over her again, immediately finding her entrance and thrusting inside her.
He pressed his forehead against hers and gazed down into her eyes. She stared right back up at him, lifting her hands to touch his face reverently.
"Every single time you come on my cock, I want you to tell me you're mine, Robin," he instructed. "Do you understand?"
She blinked at him as understanding dawned on her. "Geralt, are you angry about what I did downstairs?"
"I know why you did it, and I appreciate it, but..." He ground his teeth so the wrong words wouldn't escape. "No one else should smile at you like that, look at you like that, laugh with you like that. Not while you're with me."
She nodded, but before she could speak, he continued.
"I know... I know it's not fair. We have an arrangement. But I... I..."
"You worry about me, Geralt," she murmured. "I know."
He shook his head and started to move his hips faster, cutting off anything else she might have wanted to say as he pounded in and out of her.
But you don't know. You don't know that it kills me to see anyone else wanting to be with you. Because one day you will leave me and choose one of them instead, and I'll be left alone with my love for you.
She panted with each deep thrust, whimpering, digging her fingers into his broad shoulders. Before long, she was coming again, clinging to him tightly as she moaned, "Oh, Geralt, I'm yours. I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours."
Her toes curled as she finished, but he already needed to hear it again. He rolled onto his back and slid his hands down to her hips, squeezing them before grabbing her ass and spanking her several more times.
"Ride me," he commanded her, " and be rough."
She immediately started moving, bracing her hands against his chest and bouncing up and down. He held onto her, watching her breasts flop wildly, finally reaching up to cup them in his hands so that they wouldn't hurt.
When she came again unexpectedly and told him she was his again, he pulled her down onto his chest and claimed her mouth, holding her steady and pounding up into her with reckless abandon.
She kissed him back, biting at his lips, coming again and repeating her ordered mantra. She pushed up again, reaching back to lean against his thighs, riding him just as hard as before. He grabbed her breasts again, squeezing and kneading them.
"Again, little mage," he begged her. "Again."
She clenched around his cock and squealed. "Oh, Geralt, Geralt! I'm yours! Only yours!"
He sat up, keeping her in his lap, capturing her mouth again, holding her tightly to him, moving her up and down hard and fast on his dick, not giving her a second to rest. His kisses were so hard that she knew her lips were going to be bruised, but she didn't care.
This was the closest she could ever come to telling him she loved him. Of course, she had no idea that he was feeling the exact same way.
When she came again, he turned her around and laid back on the bed so she could ride him that way. She did, all of her thick curves bouncing against him. He grunted as he held himself back. It was almost irresistible with her weight on him like this.
She cried out almost incoherently as she came yet again, remembering herself as she slumped back against him. "Yours, Geralt," she whispered. "Only yours."
She lifted herself off of him and turned, bending and pushing her breasts together around his cock. He moaned and began to push himself up, sliding in between the soft mounds.
"Are you going to say you're mine when you come, Geralt?" she challenged him.
"Yes, little mage," he promised. "Yes. Don't stop..."
She kept going, sliding her mouth over the tip of his cock as it appeared between her breasts and sucking on it hard.
He had intended to hang on longer, but he couldn't when she was wrapped around him in so many ways like this.
He thrust up into her mouth, pushing her head down as he started to spurt into it. She hummed happily and swallowed eagerly, gazing up at him with her big hazel eyes.
"I'm yours, Robin," he panted heavily. "Only yours."
He bit his tongue so he wouldn't tell her he would always be hers.
When he finished, he let her head free and shifted her onto her back again, lifting one of her legs up onto his shoulders and burying three fingers inside her again. He curled his other hand around her throat and pressed down firmly.
She writhed beneath him, arching her back as he cut off her air. When she spasmed around his fingers, he let go, allowing her to breathe again and intensifying her orgasm.
"Fuck, Geralt!" she managed to gasp. "Yours, yours, I'm yours!"
"Yes, you are, Robin," he rasped, turning her over and pulling her legs apart so he could ram inside her again.
He held onto her exquisite hips, stroking in and out of her as fast as he could, leaning over her, his breath hitching as he found his release again, letting himself go deep inside her.
As she came for the last time, she started to cry, but she still gasped out, "I'm yours, Geralt, I promise. I'm yours."
He turned her over, immediately becoming tender as he took her in his arms and kissed her softly. "Did I hurt you, little mage?"
He'd asked her the question before under similar circumstances. He hadn't that time, but this time, he feared he had. He had been intentionally rough with her, after all.
She shook her head, twining her arms around his neck and holding him close. "No, Geralt, not at all," she assured him. "I'm just happy, and I needed that release. It's been so long since we did this."
He nodded his agreement. "I can't remember the last time, actually," he sighed.
"Two weeks ago," she reminded him.
That was a long time for them. He hadn't realized there had been such a hiatus. He knew it had been sporadic, of course.
But he was so tired. Sometimes so tired he could barely think.
"You've been spending so much time in Chaos," he mumbled.
She shook her head gently. "Only because when I try to talk to you, or spend time alone with you, you don't seem to want to half of the time anymore, Geralt. And it's all right if you need space. I feel like I haven't given you much in fourteen years, honestly. Just tell me if that's what you need. I'll understand."
He chuckled. Space. The last thing he wanted was space. But he couldn't tell her why, so he had to come up with something else.
He grasped at a thread she'd chosen not long ago. "I suppose it's been bothering me how much you truly don't seem to need me anymore," he confessed.
He sat up and pulled her into his lap, resting his forehead against hers and holding her close. She stroked his cheek and gave him a gentle kiss. "What are you talking about, you silly man?" she admonished him.
"In Cintra," he said, albeit reluctantly, since he didn't like to talk about it because of his Child of Surprise. "You were... incredible. While Mousesack and I struggled just to move, you walked right into Pavetta's magic and saved everyone."
"That doesn't mean I don't need you, Geralt," she soothed him. "I needed you earlier that same night when we fought together. And again later, when you saved me from the fire."
She sighed. "Geralt, I was foolish to even ask you that question years ago. No one can watch their own back all the time. I'm not sure how you manage it, honestly. It's impressive. But you need to understand that it's not a question of need. It's a question of... want."
"Want?" he echoed, wondering what she was about to say.
"People like us don't need anybody, Geralt," she explained. "You, me, and even Jaskier, we're all strong enough to survive on our own. But that doesn't mean we want to. And I know that what's going on between us won't last forever. We both know that. Once Yennefer is taken care of, like you said, we'll all be able to go our own way again. But please know that even once we've parted, you're the only one I'm ever going to want watching my back, with the obvious exception of my brother."
That managed to bring a smile to his face. "Really, Robin?"
She nodded. "Without question, Geralt."
He laid down on his side so she was facing him, pulling the blankets up over them for warmth. "Good," he whispered.
She kissed him, then nestled her head against his chest. "Get some sleep, Geralt. I know you haven't been sleeping well."
"I'll be fine," he promised her.
"You will, once you get some sleep," she insisted.
"Bossy mage," he hummed appreciatively, obediently shutting his eyes.
"Stubborn witcher," she teased, settling contentedly against him.
Neither of them could say what they felt, but at least they could come close like this.