It was six years after the banquet and four years after the war on Fiopha. Cintra and Fiopha were allies, but Calanthe would never ask for aid in her wars. Besides, mer-folk were better in water and there was rarely a body of ocean near a war. Beryl stayed on Fiopha as Queen for four years before she decided to venture out on land in hopes of finding Geralt.
Kori advised against that and at least wanted her to bring protection, but she claimed she would be fine alone. She left Kori in charge. Within three months of traveling, she met up with Geralt again, as destiny tied them together.
Geralt backed Beryl up against a tree. He easily towered over her with his large body and height. She looked up at him and slithered her hands inside his shirt and placed them on his chiseled chest.
"Didn't think you'd be this excited to see me," she murmured.
He hummed. "Four years was too long."
She smiled. "Is that so? Surely, you've rested with other women while I've been gone."
He shook his head. "Women aren't you."
The two stared at each other. Beryl's heart hammered in her chest and she was certain Geralt could hear it.
"Well?" she asked. "Are you going to fuck me or not?"
He grabbed her ass and turned her around so she was facing the tree. He pushed up her dress and pulled down his pants, readying himself. Once he was inside, the two moaned. Geralt grabbed her hips, moving her back and forth. Beryl gripped the tree, biting down on her lip in pleasure.
"Fuck, Geralt - "
He slammed into her, causing her gasp.
"Harder," she panted.
Geralt grinned, slamming into her as she requested. She whimpered at the strength he had, but she enjoyed it. Within a few more thrusts, he released himself inside of her, and the two went still, breathing heavily.