Summary: Ready for a different kind of action? I think Geralt is ;). Geralt meets up with Dandelion and Ciri at (original character) Chessa's homestead after his surprise encounter with the hound of the Wild Hunt. We get a glimpse into his heart and soul in recalling an intimate night with his lover of yore, Yennefer of Vengerberg. **Content WARNING! This chapter contains erotic material**
Chapter Text CHAPTER TEN RemembranceFingers rake over his scalp like one caresses a purring kitten, leisurely and repeatedly, and he, eager as a kitten, responds in kind. The pleasurable tingles spike down the nape of his neck fairly eliciting a purr. If only he can. Instead, he quivers with the pleasure. Closing his eyes and sighing out a low moan, he kisses the crevice of her palm, then nudges it with his forehead for more. She obliges, grinning warmly.
The familiar scent of lilac and gooseberries dominates his senses, sends him reeling with memories of her in similar fashion sprawled out on a plush white animal hide before the fire, naked... or along the back of the neck of the life-sized stuffed unicorn where she prefers to make love. Thankfully this time, she gave him a break from the animal and accommodated him in front of the large stone fireplace.
A smooth white sheet drapes randomly over her breasts outlining their alluring rounded curves, and, ahhh… their hardened peeks poking through stirs him. Grasping a petite foot, he presses his lips in the dip just below her ankle bone. Slowly, sensually, he slides his hand up over the curvature of her calve, up and over the sharp incline of her kneecap, and continues up her slender thigh. A soft giggle escapes her lips and gooseflesh bumps up her leg before he reaches her hip. Her skin, silky smooth heightens his ardour.
Peppering kisses along the juncture of her inner thighs, he inhales her intoxicating scent like one salivating over the aroma of a favorite home-cooked meal. It always has an immediate effect on him. Uniquely hers, it stirs in him emotions ranging from comfort to exhilaration, but right now, a soothing serene mood descends upon him anchoring his excitement.
Soft tufts of hair tickles his nose. Hungering for her again, he nuzzles her, his growl is muffled against her skin. Mimicking the same slow and meaningful caress of her leg, he laps her slick core from bottom to tip, drawing out the motion, savoring her musky honey. She quivers again, merely a tremor after her explosive climax a few moments ago, and gasps a sharp intake of breath. Again, he tastes her with the same relish, this time giving attention to her most sensitive and pleasurable spot. A soft content purr follows and her fingertips dig into his scalp.
He has already taken her tonight and the need to have her again so soon after… she'll think him an insatiable beast and turn him away, for sure. But, reality is, she never turns him away. He loves that about her.
Stretching out beside her on the pelt, her taste lingers on his tongue. Closing his eyes, he licks his lips and enjoys the distinct flavor.
She rolls into him, the points of her breasts brush against his side. In a purposefully seductive manner, she lifts a slender leg slow and steady, making a show of draping it over his thigh. Exhaling, he keeps breathing, especially when her knee rubs the side of his arousal. Shifting, she repositions her leg, then slides the bottom of her foot along the underside of his shaft. He sucks in a short breath. She utters a wicked chuckle.
A fire crackling in the large stone hearth is dying down. The flames dance and spit casting dark shadows across the main living space of her home. Through a pair of French-style doors open to a patio surrounded by both flower and herb gardens, the distant hooting of an owl drifts through. The call is soothing and they both listen for a while, holding each other, until laughter from the streets of Vengerberg swell overpowering the nightbird. The evening is getting on, but a few hearty souls still meander about.
Glistening violet eyes, though usually cold and imperial, pulses with a heated swirling warmth and he is lost in those turbulent depths once again. He smiles at her, fulfilled, and... peaceful. He lets out a deep sigh. It is not often he is relaxed enough to enjoy feeling content like this. Truth is, he is never content. Always longing for more, lusting for more… and when they part ways, like they do so often, he'll still hunger for her. Then he sets out on The Path always searching, forever hunting… ever needing more and never finding...
Finding what?
Fluffing long raven locks, she sighs, placing a kiss on his shoulder. With an arm around her, he hugs her tight in an embrace that molds her petite form to his. The warmth of the fire combined with her nearness, heats him more.
"What is it, darling?"
"Hmmm? Nothing."
She leans up on an elbow and looks him in the eye. "You know as well as I, dear, that is a lie. Perhaps I should rephrase my question. What is it you are forever seeking?"
Long and hard, he peers into her eyes, their swirling depths remind him of a storm over the ocean. Reading his mind is her custom, whether he likes it or not. He really ought to learn there is no keeping secrets from her.
"If I knew, Yen, I'd tell you. But maybe you can enlighten me."
"I can enlighten you on many things." A fingertip, smooth and gentle, trails down his cheek to rest on his bottom lip. He kissed it.
Rolling on top of him, her soft breasts crush against his hard chest, her locks fall in a curtain about his head. Lilac and gooseberries surround him, the scent poignant and delicious. His head spins, his aching manhood demanding release again.
She captures his lips in a fierce kiss, then ends it sweetly, caressing his cheek. "No one pleases me like you do, darling."
He swells at her praise. Not one to compliment easily for anyone or anything, but when she does, it is sincere and well deserved. It is no small feat to earn her acclamation and respect. But-
"What sets you apart?" she voices his question aloud.
"You'd rather I not speak? Don't like the sound of my voice? Is that why you read my mind all the time?"
"Don't be daft. You have an incredibly sexy voice, love. So deep and raspy… sets me on fire. But back on topic. You take your time," she whispered with enthusiasm, her hand reaching down between her legs and wrapping her fingers around his shaft.
He groaned.
Squeezing and stroking him in an agonizingly slow rhythm robs him of the ability to breathe normally. Groaning, he grasps her head, his fingers entangles in her curls. With his eyes, he pleads an end to the delicious torment.
Instead, with a controlled roll of her hips, she grinds her groin on his. He lets out a hiss.
"You're in no hurry at all. When we make love, Geralt, time bows to you. You are time's master and it must obey. I lose all sense of time and place. Do you realize what a rare and special gift that is?"
He smiles secretly. He has especially pleased her tonight.
Straightening up, the sheet falls away and she continues the merciless and arousing rotation. Her breasts and every inch of her glistens in the glow of the fire. Palms itching, he cups each perfect globe, letting his hands wander all over her pinkish skin. They are the most perfect breasts in the world. Not bulky and heavy, but round and delicate. Alluringly pert, they are just right. He slides his palms down her flat belly, dips a thumb in her navel, and rests his hands on her rounded hips.
Her grinding grew faster and more demanding. "Men are in a hurry and within minutes…" she stops suddenly, "it's over," she sighs dramatically.
Breathless, he throbs beneath her. Did he just whimper?
"But you, my love..." arching her back, she lifts her impressive mane of silky curls with both hands. He devours her femininity on display for his eyes only. Sitting up, he encircles her in his arms and takes a hardened nipple between his velvety lips. The familiar burn below becomes unbearable.
With a gasp, she lets her tresses cascade over her shoulders, grabs his head, and crushes his face to her breasts. "You, my love, worship me all night long."
He can say nothing but utter a guttural grunt.
With surprising force, she shoves him back down against the pelt. He went without resistance. Trailing a flaming path down the chiseled planes of his chest and then over his flat belly, her fingertips tease the soft hairs below his navel. Hot tingling chills tightens his groin in painful pulsating throbs. He lifts his hips into her aching for release.
In one quick and smooth motion, he grasps her by the hips and flips her onto her back. Outstretching her arms above her head, they entangle in the pillows. Long raven locks fan out in drastic contrast on the white animal hide.
Yeah, he worships her. But who can blame him?
Losing all perception of time and place always happens to him too whenever they are together. With her, he prefers to take his time, savor all the delicious heartstopping pleasure and draw it out as long as possible. Not just for his, but for her enjoyment as well. Every second he craves her. When it comes to her, he is greedy that way. He wants all of her.
He smothers the valley between her breasts with tiny heated kisses. "Can't get enough of you," he breathes.
He is ever searching for that which he never had.
Scooching down, he tastes her navel, and can't resist filling the crevice with the tip of his tongue before kissing the side of a hip. Massaging her small round bottom, she purrs with his touch. Sighing, she arches her back in a distinctly feline stretch and opens her legs for him. It is all the invitation he needs.
Drawing in a ragged breath, he rolls her onto her belly and sinks into slick warmth losing himself in a sea of shapely legs, silky curls, the titillating scent of lilac and gooseberries, and a bottom as delicious as her breasts.
No other sensation brings him greater pleasure than being enveloped in her. Deep. It is like coming home after being gone for a long… terribly long time. It is reconnecting with the remembered yesteryears, the familiar smells and sights of a childhood long gone, but knowing that here, in this place with this enchanting woman, is forever his and no one can take it away from him.
Despite the pain of their tumultuous relationship, she fascinates him. Excites him with her wit, charm, intelligence, strength of character, and of course, her rare and unique beauty intoxicates him, makes him forget who he is. This is why he takes his time. Yes, he worships her and admits it without shame, because she will have him, lets him have her. Why a powerful sorceress can be passionate with him, a simple Witcher who does the dirty work none other can, is beyond his understanding. He tries not to think about it, just accepts the fact she wants him as much as he hungers for her, no, burns for her, and needs these rare moments to last a lifetime even though the reality of that dream is nothing more than a fantasy.
Things have been going well lately, which means anytime now, their world will explode in a windstorm of pain and rage like it usually does. He knows better to think that is not coming around the corner.
But for now, he forces that thought away and focuses on this moment. His large hands caress the curvature of her hips, then sliding up her thin waist, he rocks into her harder, faster. Please, he breathes deep in his soul. Don't let this night end...
Her breaths become sighs, then moans, as do his. Yen... I need you.
"You have me, darling," she pants.
He shakes his head. No, you don't understand... I don't understand... my need is so deep...
Peeking over her shoulder, glittering eyes shine sea blue with desire. She shoots him a sharp knowing glare before closing them and succumbing to the pleasure again. "Am I not enough for you, love?"
He barely hears her broken whisper, but his soul does. If he can be with her permanently, he will not desire other women. For no other woman matters. Those others are merely temporary replacements. "You are," he grinds out in a hoarse voice. But he needs... something more. Something possibly no one is able to fulfill.
She smiles amidst a moan. Arching her back, her hand reaches behind her head searching for him. Leaning towards it, her fingers scrape over his scalp scratching his head as if she were petting a kitten. He nudged her hand for more, purring silently in his own way.
Stretching out over her small body, he brushes aside tresses dark as night exposing her creamy pale neck. She turns glancing over her shoulder, lips parted. Clutching her chin, he holds her prisoner and captures her ruby lips in a sensuously long kiss. She responds in kind, the tenderness she shows so rarely racks him to the deepest reaches of his soul.
Her climax shatters her in waves of powerful spasms that thrusts him along on the ride. Breathless, he holds her through the wild quaking while she vocalizes her pleasure. Every muscle in her body convulses, inside and out.
Then suddenly, he explodes, quaking just as powerfully, his release shaking him to the center of his being. Leaning over her back, he clutches her trembling form to his chest and they shake together, as one, letting the tingling heat coarse through their joined bodies.
"Yen…" he hums burying his face in her fragrant curls.
The moment he opened his eyes, the magic of the memory vanished on sight of the wooden rafters above. His ears rang with the sound of his own moans. He heaved a sigh, the hollowness inside paralyzing after the peacefulness experienced with the dream. Yennefer was gone, her cozy plush home in Vengerberg… gone, the idea of them… nothing but a memory. He was alone, just as he had anticipated that night. It did not take long after what was their last night together before they called it quits, for who knew how long, if ever they would come together again. Their parting was bitter, with harsh words meant to hurt - and hers still stung.
Hues of ruby red rays of the setting sun beamed in through the only window in the loft setting the upper level of the small barn on fire with its glow. Piles of hay along the outer wall insulated the area keeping it warm from the cool autumn nights. Another pelt over in the corner must be where Dandelion slept. A scratched up square wood table sat in the corner next to the railing with a single lit pillar, his medallion, daggers, and armor strewn about it. The saddlebags were tossed on the floor near the front table legs. Both swords laid propped up against the railing at the loft's edge.
Rubbing his eyes, he rolled over on his stomach and rested his head on a forearm. The plush animal hide that served as a bed soft and soothing against his skin. Birds finished their songs and quieted for the night. Stillness, peacefulness all around.
Damn, the dream was so real… And his physical reaction was real. Excruciatingly real. His heart rate strong and rapid slowed to a more normal pace, but his desire, however, not so much. The familiar burning ache would be the death of him.
Recalling now where he was, he heaved a sigh full of regret and longing. He might as well face it. Chances were he'd blown any chance for a future with Yen. At least a permanent one. For the rest of his life, he'd be alone. He had always known that, always… feared it. After nearly a century, he should be used to it by now. Doubted he'd ever love anyone with the same passion as Yen, and the thought he could never vocalize bubbled up from within again. With a quick shake of his head, he shook off the thought, stuffing it back down far enough to never surface again.
A horse whinnied softly below. Roach. He chuckled to himself and raked fingers through his long tousled hair. He always had Roach. She was his most faithful companion and she reminded him she was there.
But besides his mare, he welcomed being alone for the moment. Shoving aside the blanket, he laid for a moment longer, completely nude. It was wonderful. The only times he slept like this was at Kaer Morhen or… Yen's house, and any place safe from the dangers of the road. He closed his eyes and listened to the birds outside, until his stomach rumbled.
A creak sounded, and a click of a boot heel, followed by a clink. Instinct kicked in. Instead of covering his bare backside, he rolled over and reached for his blade. His fingers wrapped around the hilt before common sense dawned on him. Of course he did not need a weapon. This was a safe place, but old habits die hard.
"I… I've startled you. Forgive me." Chessa stood by the wall near the ladder, her slate-blue skirts hiked up in one hand revealing high-heeled black laced-up leather boots and in her other hand, a small round container and a handkerchief concealing… something. Maybe food? Her blue-eyed gaze raked over him before her cheeks flamed red.
The ache just became more demanding. He glanced away before she detected something more than curiosity in his eyes. Letting go of the sword, it rattled against the railing, and he sat back tossing the blanket over his lap not embarrassed by his nakedness or the arousal so evident it was difficult to hide. He did it more for her sake than his. Modesty never suited him.
"Don't worry about it."
She took a step closer and appeared breathless. "Came to check on you. You've slept all day… But then, you needed it, apparently."
He nodded. Did he ever. "Thank you. For taking care of Cir… Serena and letting us stay here for a day or so. I'm grateful."
She came closer stepping into the rays of the setting sun. The beams highlighted her dark hair a deep auburn and it glistened in the light. It also lit her blue eyes from within and its rich hue dazzled him. He caught his breath.
Crouching down beside the pelt, she laid the handkerchief on the edge of the hide. The low neckline of her bodice revealed the promise hidden beneath. He averted his gaze, reluctantly.
"It's nothing much, but… I wasn't sure if you were awake yet. Just some bread and cheese. A proper meal awaits whenever you come down."
"I'll pay for your hospitality and inconvenience. It was unexpected and you've been generous."
She waved a hand in dismissal. "I'm not worried about coin."
He eyed her for a moment. How couldn't she be? She was supporting herself here, and though her homestead was decent enough, she certainly did not appear that well off.
"Many cannot pay with coin, so they reciprocate in other ways. That's how this barn got built, and an addition added to my house. And others pay with chickens. Some pay with…" Cheeks pink, she smiled, although did not complete her sentence.
"With what?" he breathed leaning closer. She smelled of a conglomerate of flowers and herbs, but the sweet exotic verbena was the most distinct scent. He smiled. Verbena always reminded him of Essi Daven, or Little Eye as Dandelion had called her.
"Folks repay me in whatever manner they are able."
"I can pay with coin." His voice sounded lower and raspier than normal. He cleared his throat.
She frowned ever so slightly.
"Oh, I almost forgot." Her outstretched hand opened revealing a small round container in her palm. "For you."
He picked it up. Her fingertips grazed the sensitive underside of his wrist and the sensation tingled down his arm. Her deep blue eyes glinted with an inner fire.
"What is it?" He inspected it then twisted off the lid. A strong pleasant aroma caught his nose. Coconut oil. And… aloe. He recognized it immediately. "A soothing topical ointment." How'd she know?
Eyes bright in the gathering darkness, she nodded. Her flaming hair darkened before his eyes as the rays lowered below the windowsill. "You know what you smell. It's for the chafing."
He grinned and chuckled. "I'd ask how you knew, but then again, you're a healer. It's what you do."
She smiled sweetly. The loft became brighter for it. "Just assumed, really… Your armor is all leather and you arrived pretty soaked to the bone. Just a hunch."
He laughed. "Yeah, well… your hunch was correct." He held up the container. "This will get used up pretty quickly."
"And I'll have more when you need it."
Leaning in closer, she frowned slightly, her gaze fixed on his chest. "So many scars… You must be a dangerous man."
"Have a dangerous occupation." He watched her watching him. Intently. His breathing became more rapid and shallow.
Scanning over his chest again, her gaze finally met his. "Are there any that... need attention?"
Shaking his head, he immediately regretted it. That could have been an opening… an invitation, really. Damn, what was he thinking? Just because she was attractive and he was already aroused didn't mean she'd jump in the sack with him. Envisioning himself taking a leap in the frigid pond, he forced the thought as far away as possible. Cold. Pond. Cool himself off or he'd have to…
"Why is a young girl traveling with a dangerous man and a flamboyant troubadour?"
Her total change of topic threw him off and no-nonsense tone cooled him as if he had just jumped in the water.
Shifting to her knees, she looked at him at eye level. Her expression lost its merriment and grew serious. "I know Serena is not her real name, but it's the name your bard friend gave me. You are keeping her identity a secret-"
"For good reason."
"I imagine so. She's a troubled girl. Something traumatic happened and I have an idea what-"
"More than one…"
Chessa clamped her mouth closed taken aback. "She's frightened beyond understanding, Geralt, and continued to call out for you. When she awoke she went into hysterics because you were not around. I had to administer sleeping agents to keep her calm. It's only now that you are here, she has relaxed. Such a change has come over her since you've arrived."
He glanced out the window. The pond behind the homestead glowed reddish-pink in the dying light. Its appeal diminished. He swiped a hand over his eyes and sighed. "She is attached to me. I bring her comfort. I don't know why or how… Only eleven years old and she's been through too much already."
"You make her feel safe, that's why. She knows with you, she is protected. That makes a huge impression on a young frightened girl. But, you still haven't answered my question."
"Chessa, your hospitality is greatly appreciated. Just know that... Serena," he paused stumbling over the name he wasn't used to. But Dandelion only did as he bade. "Serena is safe with us. We are secretive to protect her, but also to protect you. There may come a time you'll thank me for this. As long as she is able, we'll be out of your hair as soon as I can shoe my horse and get some supplies."
"Then you can leave sooner than you think. Your friend took your horse to the village while you slept. Your mare is shoed and he also bought supplies enough for a long journey."
Geralt forked a hand through his hair. Dandelion did all that?
"I've also provided new pants for Serena since hers were... ruined. Sometimes when patients don't... make it, their clothing comes in handy for others that do."
"Add the pants to my tab."
"I've also given her warmer clothes. Winter's nigh approaching, you know."
The chastisement in her tone was unmistakable.
"Clearly, she is not your daughter, nor the bard's. You don't know the first thing about taking care of another person, let alone a young girl."
Geralt flinched, imperceptible to her, but he did nonetheless at her accurate assessment. What the hell, was he talking to Yennefer? Deflated in more ways than one, he didn't need this lecture or the tone that reminded him so much of the sorceress. But she wasn't through.
"So help me, give me one good reason why I don't take you to the authorities and take possession of the girl myself? Why should I release this troubled child to the likes of you two? What do you plan to do with her?"
He met her gaze steadily. "I know you mean well, Chessa. And you're right, she is not my daughter. And I don't know the first thing about taking care of a child but have no choice but to learn real fast. There are things going on far beyond your understanding of this situation. Potentially dangerous ones for her and anyone who's in our path. She is coming with me because I've sworn to protect her. I'm taking her someplace safe."
That quieted her. She held his gaze, the fire in her blue depths softening some. She exhaled slowly and glanced at his swords propped against the railing.
"I've judged you both harshly, I know, but I needed to make sure Serena, or whatever is her real name, is safe with you. You could be a heartless brute with nothing but dark twisted desires. But I can see you speak the truth. Your eyes don't lie."
She rose to her feet and tossed her long wavy mane behind her slender shoulders. "You can stay as long as necessary."
"Not planning on staying, but the invitation is appreciated. We have a long journey ahead before winter comes, you understand."
She gave him one last long penetrating gaze before retreating down the ladder. He sat there, the blanket over his lap, sniffing the remnants of verbena in the air. It was not lilac and gooseberries, but because of a certain petite blonde with blue-eyes, the sweet scent held a special place in his heart.
Essi. Little-Eye. Dandelion's musical friend. He smiled at the memory of their whirlwind romance and how Dandelion... bought supplies and reshoed his horse...
Cursing, he flung off the blanket and stood. A constricted gasp from below drew his attention. He turned, gripped the rail, and gazed down into the center of the barn. Chessa stood there, staring up at him without shame, her eyes glittering and intense in the torchlight, her lips parted. Even from this distance, the verbena combined with her heated gaze had the same effect on him as it did with Essi. He was a fool, he knew it, but… damn it, he was a man, and a Witcher to boot.
She was up the ladder in a flash, her chest heaving with rapid shallow breaths. Taking a step closer, she swallowed, her skin flushed, her eyes never wavering. Trembling fingers unlaced the opening of her bodice. His breath caught in his lungs. At first sight of bared breasts, he was helpless.
Grasping her wrist, he yanked her against him, her petite form offering no resistance. She gasped, splayed her hands along his chest, then raked long slender fingers through his hair. His lips covered her face, collarbone, breasts, belly, hip, and thigh as he peeled the dress off her trembling form and laid her down on the soft bed of fur. Burying his nose in her wavy tresses, the delicate floral scent engulfed him.
He took her with pent-up fervor, without regrets, without recalling the earlier dream or the raven-haired sorceress. She in turn, matched his eagerness with creative energy of her own. And when they were through, he loved her again, taking more time about it, and she was just as enthusiastic the second time.
Twilight had settled outside, that time of night that everything was highlighted in shades of gold and pink. They laid on their sides, spent, breathing deeply. Lying behind her, he molded his form to hers and draped an arm over her waist. Filling a palm with a breast, he fondled them while they cooled down. She sighed, arching her back and raking fingers through her hair.
"Come downstairs and eat," she purred. "You must be famished."
"I was... and I am."
She turned toward him and grinned. "Well, now that I've satisfied one hunger," she planted a velvety kiss on his lips, "let me satisfy another before Dandelion comes looking for us."
Scratching an ear, he groaned, rolling onto his back. He had completely forgotten about Ciri and Dandelion! Some protector and friend he was. "Right. Should check on Ciri again."
He should have gotten up and started dressing without looking at her, but instead, he laid there, watching her pull on her dress. The fabric spilled over her shoulders and disappointment filled him when it covered her breasts before plunging in a rippling wave to her ankles. It was a shame fabric had to hide such a lovely figure.
"She'd like that."
He almost did not hear her. Focusing on what she said rather than how sexy she looked with disheveled hair and the reason why it was in that condition, he remembered something she had said earlier. "Add the extra clothing for Ciri and meals to my tab."
With a wicked grin, she took a good long look over his bare body, stalling at a certain area before meeting his gaze again. "Oh, I planned on it." With that, she turned and retreated down the ladder.