[ It if weren't because the Witcher's touch returns soon enough, holding his hips and maneuvering him around, Jaskier would have whimpered loudly at the loss. As it is, he only lets out a soft gasp at the way heat is settling in his gut, a heady anticipation of what is to come after he rests his upper body on the table.
He turns his head towards Geralt, looking at him over his shoulder, eyes soft and yet heavy with yearning, an all-consuming need that would be embarrassing if Jaskier wasn't beyond the point of caring. He misses kissing the Witcher, Jaskier could easily get lost in the sensation of Geralt’s tongue, warm and wet against his own, but it's almost impossible at this angle. Luckily, the man's mouth is on his skin soon enough, keeping the wanting at bay. It makes the bard more pliant but not wordless, small mewling sounds keep falling from his parted lips. Moans, gasps, and Geralt's name mingling together.
His head turns to the other side as if he's trying to hide and he bits his bottom lip, shuddering at the intrusion even as he wills his body to relax around Geralt's finger. This is always the most inconvenient part of sex, no matter how much he wants it. But It doesn't take Jaskier much this time, it's not like the first time they did this together. The Witcher's finger is bluntly thick inside him, sliding in and out easily, offering a perfect stretch that leaves the younger man wanting for more. And then Geralt starts talking, voice grave but soft, and Jaskier's skin feels like it’s on fire, burning from the inside out. ]
I...always...always wanted you. [ One of Jaskier's hands leaves the table to reach out and bury itself on Geralt's hair, giving it a tug. The other is digging its nails on the wood, knuckles white. ] I...fuck aah...Knew it from the moment I saw your face in that tavern.
[ He shifts his legs, first moving them closer so the clothes fall to the floor and he can step out of his breeches, and then arching his back and spreading his legs. His hips rock back in small jerks, ass pushing back onto Geralt's finger when he's ready for another. ] More. Geralt, more.
[ He's aching into the contact, pulse thundering in his ears and cock harder than he's ever known. Jaskier needs more of their skin pressed together, wants to feel Geralt fully inside him, and he knows he's never going to be able to forget this. ]
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givingexposition) wrote2020-01-03 11:55 pm
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He turns his head towards Geralt, looking at him over his shoulder, eyes soft and yet heavy with yearning, an all-consuming need that would be embarrassing if Jaskier wasn't beyond the point of caring. He misses kissing the Witcher, Jaskier could easily get lost in the sensation of Geralt’s tongue, warm and wet against his own, but it's almost impossible at this angle. Luckily, the man's mouth is on his skin soon enough, keeping the wanting at bay. It makes the bard more pliant but not wordless, small mewling sounds keep falling from his parted lips. Moans, gasps, and Geralt's name mingling together.
His head turns to the other side as if he's trying to hide and he bits his bottom lip, shuddering at the intrusion even as he wills his body to relax around Geralt's finger. This is always the most inconvenient part of sex, no matter how much he wants it. But It doesn't take Jaskier much this time, it's not like the first time they did this together. The Witcher's finger is bluntly thick inside him, sliding in and out easily, offering a perfect stretch that leaves the younger man wanting for more. And then Geralt starts talking, voice grave but soft, and Jaskier's skin feels like it’s on fire, burning from the inside out. ]
I...always...always wanted you. [ One of Jaskier's hands leaves the table to reach out and bury itself on Geralt's hair, giving it a tug. The other is digging its nails on the wood, knuckles white. ] I...fuck aah...Knew it from the moment I saw your face in that tavern.
[ He shifts his legs, first moving them closer so the clothes fall to the floor and he can step out of his breeches, and then arching his back and spreading his legs. His hips rock back in small jerks, ass pushing back onto Geralt's finger when he's ready for another. ] More. Geralt, more.
[ He's aching into the contact, pulse thundering in his ears and cock harder than he's ever known. Jaskier needs more of their skin pressed together, wants to feel Geralt fully inside him, and he knows he's never going to be able to forget this. ]