It was summer now. The days were warm and long, and the monsters out there were still restless. There were reports from the north, of multiple monsters; a bruxa, kikimoras, ghouls, a manticore and so many more. Geralt would have to leave soon. It had been about two months since he came back from the werewolf job, way too short in my eyes, and I was reluctant to let him go. But I knew I had to. It was his life after all.
So, I helped him prepare for his trip. Stocked up his potions, fixed little rips in his clothes, cleaned and greased his armour, so the leather would be soft and not crumble at his movements. I even trained with him, something I hadn't have time for in the past weeks, but now that he was going to leave again, and needed a little training after two months of doing the bare minimum – training wise – I made time for it.
So there we were. Currently, Geralt was delivering blow after blow, and I was struggling to block all of them. His movements were incredibly fast as he spun around me, trying to find a gap in my defence. It didn't take him long, because, apart from our occasional training, I hadn't fought in a good two years. Had it already been two years since my last hunt? Insane.
With a quick spin, I moved out of Geralt's way, making his sword hiss through the air next to me. But, rusty as I was – or maybe it was my plan – I spun into the wrong direction: not away from my husband but right into his arms. If it had been a serious fight, it would have meant certain death. But it wasn't a serious fight and my opponent was, well, my husband.
So, instead of raising my blade again, I let it drop to the ground, using the brief moment of Geralt's confusion as to why I wasn't fighting anymore to put my hand in the nape of his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He did respond, but to my confusion, pushed me back only moments later, stepping back to take in a fighting stance.
"Oh, nono, my love. We're not done here, yet," he chuckled.
With a huff, I picked my blade back up and attacked him. Our dance continued for a while, our music the sounds of blades cutting through air and swords smashing together. Geralt pushed me back further and further towards the seam of the small forest and soon enough he had me backed up against a tree, the tip of his blade resting right between my breasts. Defeated, I dropped my sword, for good this time. With a quick movement, he cut the laces at the front of my dress and dropped his sword to the ground.
"Hey, I liked that dr-" I exclaimed, but was shut up by his lips crashing on mine. His kiss was demanding, teeth tugging at my bottom lip as he pressed me up against the tree, and I oh so gladly replied.
"So, now were done here?" I chuckled breathlessly once we parted for air.
"Hmm, I had to defeat you. With you surrendering it's too easy," he muttered against my neck, nibbling at the skin. "I had to earn my reward."
His growl shot straight to my core, making heat pool between my thighs, his lips on my neck adding to it quickly. I threw my arms around him and his hands travelled down to the back of my thighs, urging me to jump. With my back pressed against the tree, I wrapped my legs around his waist, a sharp gasp leaving my lungs when Geralt nipped on my sweet spot. My fingers clung onto his hair, tugging on it, guiding him back up to my face. He let out a deep groan just before smashing his lips back on mine, his tongue swiping along my bottom lip before catching it between his teeth. I gasped into the kiss, opening my mouth for his tongue, fighting it for dominance with my own. Just like our battle before, he won.
The heat in my core started to grow into and unbearable flame and I rutted my hips against his, looking for some kind of friction. With the shift of position, I could feel how hard he was already, straining against the confines of his oh so tight leather trousers. I rolled my hips against his bulge, the new position now finally providing a little of the much needed friction, but both of us needed more.
Panting, we broke apart and Geralt sat me back to my feet.
"Not here," was all he said, before picking up both our swords in one hand, using his other to drag me off towards our house, both of us impatient to reach our bed.
So impatient that, once we entered our house, Geralt laid the blades on the table in the hall and then picked me up by the back of my thighs again, our mouths devouring one another within seconds. Blindly, he walked up the stairs, slamming me against the wall, once we reached the top.
With my hands on the back of his neck, I tried to grasp the hem of his tunic. Noticing what I was up to, he let my legs drop and pulled back a little, lifting the fabric off his body. I watched, transfixed by the sight of the rippling muscles of his chest, stomach and arms, as he threw the tunic over his shoulder. I think I even drooled a little and the flame in my belly grew even larger.
Using our parted state, Geralt took hold of my dress, lifting it off my body. He let it drop next to his feet, taking in my naked glory, glowing golden from the setting sun – we both were. His hands reached out for me, slowed by awe.
I, on the other hand, acted fast. I pushed myself off the wall and jumped at him. He caught me with ease, snapping back to reality, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, latching my lips back on his.
Geralt walked us over to the bed, letting us drop down on the soft mattress. Before his weight could crush me, he caught himself on his forearms. Together, our lips still connected in a hungry kiss, we awkwardly scooted to the middle of our bed, and that was when the pace changed. Geralt would leave in the morning, for only the gods know how long. We would savour every second we had together.
Ever so slowly, he kissed down my body that was already shaking with anticipation. He nibbled along my collarbone, coaxing tiny gasps from me. I felt him shift above me, and soon his hands were travelling down my sides, feather-light touches from his calloused fingers leaving goose bumps in their wake. He kissed down the valley between my breasts and down way stomach, his mouth joining his hands at the waistline of my underwear, glancing up at me with dark eyes filled with desire and love, as he pulled the fabric down, his lips following the path of one of his hands, kissing down my thigh. Once the panties were off me, he discarded them next to the bed and slowly crawled up my body, his golden eyes fixed on me like those of a predator.
I shivered at the intensity of his stare. When our heads were on one level again, Geralt lied down on his side next to me and pulled me close. Capturing my lips in his once again, he kissed me gently yet demanding. With my body pressed close to his, he let himself roll onto his back, with me on top of him. We let our kiss deepen once more, tongues fighting and sucking on each other, before we broke apart for air. I let my mouth wander from Geralt's lips to his jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses in my wake. His rough stubble tickled against my lips. Humming, I kissed down his neck, giggling lightly when I felt his pulse flutter against my lips as I reached his pulse point. I stopped there to suck a hickey on his neck.
Even though it'd be gone in latest two days, I wanted to mark him, when he was about to leave, showing every woman he may come across that he already belonged to someone. Not that I didn't trust Geralt – far from it – but it still calmed my mind to have people see that he belonged to me, especially when I couldn't be with him.
Once I was convinced the mark was dark enough and would stay long enough, I liked soothingly over the skin, coaxing a deep groan from the man underneath me. I continued to kiss my way down his body, paying attention to every scar that littered his broad chest and chiselled stomach, moaning softly when his muscles rippled beneath my lips with every of his small movements. I worshipped him, his body, taking my sweet time, until every inch of his torso had felt my lips at least once.
Then I sat up on his thighs, admiring what my kisses had made out of him. Geralt's eyes were screwed shut, brows knitted together, his mouth hang open and his chest heaved. My love bite stood out dark purple against his pale skin.
"It doesn't hurt, does it," I whispered, feeling a little guilty.
"No, I love it," he heaved out back, "But... something else does."
"Sorry," I mumbled and let my skilled fingers unbutton the fly of his breeches.
Rock hard and throbbing, his member sprung free, standing proud against his stomach. Even more heat pooled in my belly at the sight – and at the thought of having him inside me again. Impatiently, I tugged his tight leather trousers from his muscular legs. Gods, why was he so big and his clothes so tight? He looked amazing in them, but getting them off his body with a sex-hazed brain was fucking hard – every time!
Finally, I pulled the last bits of his trousers off his body, and threw them down onto the ground. And then, I did what Geralt had done before. I crawled up his body, slowly, and kissed along his legs, his hips, his torso, all the way up to his lips again. My thighs were straddling his hips now, and his hands on my waist. With one last kiss, I sat up.
"Ready?" I chuckled. Geralt shot me a playful glare. Sure we were ready! We had already been ready when we made out against the tree outside.
I sat up on my knees, guided by Geralt's hand on my hip. His other hand left my body to grasp his length, guiding it towards my entrance, swiping it up and down my slit, coating him with my arousal, as my hands lay flat against his toned stomach for balance.
Slowly, I sank down on him, throwing my head back, a satisfied groan erupting from both of us at the feel of being united like this once again. He stretched me in ways that only he could, reaching every spot that added to the sweet pleasure. Once he was fully sheathed within me, I halted, adjusting to his size.
Geralt put both of his hands back on my hips, ready to guide my movements once I was ready. And only moments later, I was. Slowly, I began to rock on him, circling my hips. Every nerve ending was stimulated by his length, and I let out breathy moans, tipping my head back.
One of Geralt's hands slid up my body to grasp my breast, massaging it gently, thumb swiping over the pebbled nipple ever so often. I let my hands glide up his body until they were resting on his chest, leaning forward slightly, the change of angle making the head of his member stroke over my sweet spot and I moaned out loudly, clenching my inner walls around him. This elicited a deep groan from him, making me move a little faster on him.
His hand left my breast and he placed it at the back of my neck, pulling me down to him. He planted a gentle kiss to my lips and shifted, slowly turning us around. When my back hit the mattress, I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair, keeping his head where I needed it to be: close, with his lips against mine, tongues dancing.
Now that Geralt was in control, the thrusts became deeper, more powerful, but still remained slow. We were in no rush to get this over with, to reach the peak, to let out our bottled longing. No, we wanted to savour our time together, being joined in the closest way possible. This would be the last time we were together in a long time and we wanted to make every single second last.
I rolled my hips up in time with his slow thrusts, both of us moaning at the feel of each other providing sweet pleasure. Soon enough, the hot coil in my bully started to grow more rapidly and my walls started to twitch and tighten around Geralt's member. He groaned deeply and picked up the pace a little, unable to keep it slow anymore. My moans rose in pitch as he drove into me, clenching around him and holding on to his white strands for dear life. I was careening to the edge now, and from the way his grunts became even deeper – as did his thrusts – I could tell Geralt was close too.
One last time, he changed his angle a little, the tip of his length now brushing deliciously against my sweet spot, while his pubic bone rubbed against my clit. I cried out at that, the coil growing even faster now. I felt Geralt twitch within me, and grow even harder. A few more deep, long thrusts and I was thrown over the edge, vision going white as my body shook with pure pleasure.
My walls quaked around him, tightening even more. After three more thrusts, Geralt came inside me with a deep roar, collapsing on his forearms as he lazily rocked into me, riding out both our highs. My still shaking walls milked him to the last drop.
We stayed like this until my walls stilled and he grew soft within me, calming our racing hearts and heaving breats. Only then, he rolled off me, pulling out in the process. I whined a little at the loss of him, feeling empty and incomplete without him filling me.
Geralt pulled me to lay my head on his chest, wrapping his arm around my waist. I let my fingers wander over his body, tracing his scars and playing with the curls of his chest hair.
"I love you so much, Nienna," he muttered sleepily. "I'll come back to you as soon as I can."
I smiled and glanced up at him, eyes droopy from the long day of, uhh, exhausting activities. He always promised that before he left, and it was yet to happen that he broke that promise.
"I know. I love you more, Geralt. Please be safe out there," I mumbled back, closing my eyes and yawning.
He hummed in response and pulled me a little closer to him, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
I could feel the essence of our pleasure trickling out of me slowly, and I sent a silent prayer to Melitele that she may grant us her blessing this time.
We fell asleep to the even beating of our hearts; mine so much faster than Geralt's, creating a comforting harmony.