A/N: Serious conversations in the first half, romance and smut in the second half.

Even in a tavern packed with customers, their arrival didn't go unnoticed by their friends. A series of hugs and back pats followed as each expressed their relief at having them both return. After that, they all sat at one of the larger tables while the barmaid brought them drinks and platters of food. Geralt set upon devouring the meal with the appetite of a true wolf.

Yen rolled her eyes at him. "That chicken won't sprout wings and fly away. You could stand to slow down a bit."

"Maybe you should try a day in Radovid's dungeon before you lecture me on table manners. Their treatment does wonders for one's appetite."

"You're not actually wishing the Church caught me?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

Geralt stopped with his fork hanging mid-air. "No, of course not. But this is hardly the time to scold me -"

"You haven't said what landed you in the dungeon," Ciri interrupted their argument to Geralt's relief.

"Radovid's obsession with finding Philippa and finishing what he started would be the short answer."

"And the long answer?" Yennefer asked.

"The long answer is he's deranged and enjoys flaunting his power. Couple that with an inability to take no for an answer and you get a deadly combination. Whether this results from some childhood trauma or neglect that led to a need for attention -"

"I know you like to hear yourself talk, but we don't need a psychological analysis of the king," Yen cut in.

"Then don't ask for the long answer next time."

"I was hoping - wrongly it seems - that you'd be capable of parsing out and focusing on relevant aspects. We're not interested in hearing your pseudo-intellectual musings."

He dropped his fork onto his plate and wiped his hands. The rest of their friends continued their private conversations, awkwardly watching their bickering out of the corner of their eyes, used to how most of their discussions ended in arguments.

"I'm not in the mood for petty squabbles tonight," Geralt said, wanting to return to his meal in peace.

"Then apologize for wishing me to see the inside of a cell." Her unforgiving voice could cut through glass.

Silence fell upon the table as Geralt rubbed a hand over his forehead. He was stretched tighter than a bowstring after the day's events, his back was still hurting and Avallac'h was expecting to talk to them. Starting a fight with Yen over something stupid was the last thing he needed.

"I'm sorry for suggesting you had to visit the dungeons," he sighed. "Let's try to be civil to each other for once. We have a lot to deal with and this isn't helping anyone."

"Fine, apology accepted," Yen said with narrowed eyes. "And perhaps in light of your recent trip, you would add the king to the list of things we need to take care of."

Geralt raised an eyebrow at her. "As much as I dislike him, he's not really our problem. Frankly, I meant to suggest we move on from Novigrad. Perhaps Skellige or Kovir. Or even Nilfgaard, as things now stand."

"Or we could do everyone a favour and rid the city of him," Triss said. "He and his witch hunters are a plague on Redania."

Geralt looked from one sorceress to the other. The two rarely saw eye to eye on anything aside from the Lodge's agenda and Ciri's wellbeing.

"I'm not about to fuel the rumours that I'm an assassin of kings by lending a hand in whatever you're planning. Besides killing monsters, my job is to protect Ciri, not deal with rulers or kill them."

"Once Ciri becomes empress, Radovid will be a thorn in her side. One we would do well to remove," Yen said. "Besides, no one said anything about you killing him."

A moment of tense silence followed as they held each other's gaze. Zoltan slapped a hand over the table and broke the mounting tension.

"King or no king, we've always been fine. No use ruining a perfectly pleasant evening with politics. Anybody game for a round of Gwent?"

"I'll take you up on that," Ciri answered, already pulling out her deck of cards.

"Aye, that'll be one for the books. Defeating the future Empress will be an honour."

Ciri snorted. "Don't get ahead of yourself. You've not seen me play in years. My deck has considerably improved since our last match."

They settled into a game of cards while the rest resumed their meal.

"I thought you were going to tell me the next time you planned a longer trip," Dandelion said, elbowing Criss.

"I would have if it was planned. Unfortunately, being followed and getting robbed isn't something I could predict," Criss replied with an apologetic half-smile. "I know we're bordering on your seven-day limit, but you haven't given my room away, have you?"

Dandelion huffed. "Of course not. But you might have to deal with a gruff witcher who has taken residence in it for the past day and a half."

"Actually, the gruff witcher was a feature of the room I was looking forward to," she replied, laughing.

"I'm right here, you know?" Geralt mock protested with a grin. "There's no need to speak as if I was a piece of furniture." He leaned into Criss's ear. "Although you could -"

"Oh, please Geralt, don't continue that sentence," Yen intervened. "As happy as I am to see you return, I don't miss your crude jokes. I guarantee no one wants to hear you offer her a special place to sit on."

Criss snorted and stifled a laugh as he grinned at her before turning to Yen.

"Then maybe you should stop eavesdropping on people's thoughts. You might see more than you've bargained for."

She gave him an unamused look, and Geralt changed the topic. "Let's put all jokes aside for the moment. There are serious things we need to discuss tonight. Ciri said Avallac'h has a plan."

"Is that so?" Yen asked. "I should like to hear what he's proposing."

Ciri threw down a spy and drew two more cards from her deck.

"We'll go in a moment. I nearly have this win pinned down," Ciri said with her eyes still on the cards.

Indeed, in a few more turns, she stopped Zoltan's attack with a well-placed weather card and he surrendered the game to her. They collected their things and climbed the stairs to the Ruby Suite, which was still occupied by Avallac'h, to Dandelion's continuous chagrin. After a quick rap on the door, the elf invited them in.

He was bent over his desk, studying parchments.

"Has Ciri told you the details of the plan I have devised?" he asked without as much of a greeting or a glance, his nose still buried in the papers.

"Not exactly," Geralt replied.

The elf hummed. "Then let me explain." He turned and swept his eyes over each of them. "Considering your last concerted effort against the full force of the Hunt was less than successful and resulted in a near catastrophe, I'm inclined to believe that a more focused effort would yield a more favourable result. You could say I felt inspired by Zireael's recent success."

"Meaning?" Geralt asked, trying to speed up the conversation.

"Not all Aen Elle are as obsessed with Zireael as Eredin is," Avallac'h continued, unbothered by the interruption. "If we remove him, it would leave them less inclined to pursue us."

"Please cut to the point. What is your plan for doing that?" Yen asked.

"I've been studying the formation of natural portals. Well, not exactly portals. More like points where the barrier is thinned and with a slight nudge, a portal may be opened. I'm certain that we could use a series of such portals to travel to Tir ná Lia. Navigators keep track of all magically created portals, but the naturally occurring ones go by unchecked. They wouldn't require Zireael or any one of us to use our powers, rendering us virtually undetectable. A small force could infiltrate the city and then the palace to deal with Eredin much in the same way you two dealt with Imlerith."

"What's the catch?" Geralt asked, knowing that it couldn't be as simple as it sounded, or Ciri would have already agreed to it.

"The catch, as you prosaically put it, is that I need to plot a safe course through these portals, and that could take some time. But more importantly, once I find a path, I shall need to enlist the aid of an old friend to get us into the palace."

"An Aen Elle?" Criss asked and Avallac'h answered with a curt nod. "Who?"

"Ge'els. He is one of the few who stood by my innocence when Eredin took power."

"And you're certain he can be trusted not to deliver us to Eredin instead?" Yen asked.

"I am, or I wouldn't have suggested it."

"How long would it take you to find a way there?" Geralt asked.

"It is impossible to say, a few weeks or a month. But it would be considerably less if I wouldn't be sitting under a warded city. There are pressure points in the city but I can't explore them, so I'll have to wade through sewers to get in and out of the city. It is an inconvenience, to say the least."

Geralt shot Yen, Ciri and Criss a glance before replying. The first two looked eager, but he suspected it was for vastly different reasons, while the third looked unsettled and unsure. He thought back to the dark cloud that took hold of Imlerith before replying. If someone could help him make an informed decision it would be the one who regularly dealt with such creatures.

"I'll sleep on the decision and let you know tomorrow morning."

Avallac'h nodded. "Of course. But I wouldn't take too much time if I were you. With Imlerith dead, Eredin is sure to take your threat seriously and replenish his forces to come back to strike again. It is only a matter of time."

They left the elf, intending to return to their room. Ciri bid them good night and went ahead while Yen stayed back. A few steps from the door, Yen stopped him.

"I hope this makes you reconsider our kingly concern," she said. "Even the elf sees him as a problem."

"He sees the wards as a problem, not the king. One more easily rectified if we relocate as opposed to devising a plan to change the ruler."

"I urge you to reconsider," Yen said, taking a softer tone. "Our plan has been well thought out and most pieces are already in place. You just need to play your role in it, and as I've said, that doesn't include you wielding a sword against anyone. The least you could do is listen to what we have to say."

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his weary face. "Fine. I'll listen, but no promises." As much as he didn't need or want another distraction, he owed her this much.

"That's all I ask. Tomorrow at the Passiflora all concerned will meet and then you can decide."

With that, he was finally free to close the door behind them and for the first time in a long while, he was alone with the woman he had missed so much.

Her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the buckles of his armour, trying to undress him. She glanced up at him for a second and he saw the same unrest as before, so his hands came up to stop her fidgeting, his fingers intertwining with hers. He leaned in and pressed his lips against her knuckles and held them there until she met his gaze.

"What's bothering you?" he asked with undisguised concern.

"You're injured, I need to see how bad it is," she replied, lowering her eyes.

"Told you I'm fine. It's nothing I can't heal on my own." He released one of her hands to pinch her chin and tilt it up. "Tell me what's unsettled you. Is it something I did?" She shook her head, but he was unconvinced. "Come now, something clearly isn't right. You were laughing and smiling earlier tonight and now a gloom has settled over you. Tell me how to make it right."

She sighed as if fighting with herself to stay honest with him. "Just… please undress and let me treat your wounds. I can't seem to figure out your armour."

He doubted this was all it would take for her to feel at ease again, but it gave him a place to start, so he did as she wanted. With practised movements, he removed his leather breastplate and padding, leaving him in a thin shirt and trousers. A shiver ran through him as her fingers hooked under the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head but it soon turned into a wince as the fabric was stuck to his back. She met his gaze with worry and went around him to gently pry it from his skin. Her eyes widened in horror at what was hidden underneath. A crisscross of lash marks over his entire back and the fabric was glued by dried, crusted blood. Where the scabs broke loose, red pearls of blood gathered instead.

"Geralt," she chided. "You call this nothing?"

"I've seen much worse. This is merely a nuisance. Hardly life-threatening."

"It doesn't need to be lethal to be bad."

Her hands ghosted over a mark, healing it with no pain. He knew what that meant.

He looked at her over his shoulder. "I can handle the pain." The next ones stung as they closed.

"Turn around so I can deal with the marks on your face," she said when she was done with his back.

He did as told, and her index skimmed over his lip, then her palm swept over his jaw, cheekbone and arch. She focused her eyes and intent on what she was doing, but he couldn't help feeling like she was using this to avoid his gaze.

"There you are. Much better. Now I just need to draw you a bath to get rid of this crusted blood," she said, already making her way to the window to open it.

"Join me? Please?" he asked still not letting his eyes off her as he was removing the rest of his clothes while she prepared the bath.

She nodded in response, and her taciturn demeanour worried him further. He needed to get to the bottom of whatever worried her, acutely aware that it was most likely his fault. It couldn't have been that easy to get her to forgive him but he was willing to do whatever it took.

With absent eyes, she undressed and lowered herself into the hot water on the opposite side of the tub. He didn't want to push her, hoping she'd open up to him on her own, but she remained silent while they bathed, simply waving a hand from time to time to freshen the water and keep it warm. When thought herself sufficiently clean, she just rested her neck on the edge and stared at the ceiling.

"You're uncharacteristically silent," he said, pouring more fragrant bath oil into the water.

"I'm sorry I'm not good company tonight. This probably wasn't how you expected our first night back together to be," she replied, still fixating on the plastered boards above.

He huffed, amused. "Don't know why you always feel the need to apologize when I'm the one who fucked up."

"You didn't fuck up, Geralt..."

"Yes, I did. And I am well aware of it."

"Ciri needed you, and you were there for her, as you should be. Besides, you're a witcher and you're always going to have contracts that need your attention. It's something I always knew and something I appreciate about you. We both have our work, and it's unreasonable to expect either of us to put it aside."

"It's not unreasonable to expect me to tell you before I go off, so let me be the one who's sorry. I'm not taking your forgiveness for granted and I know I can't fix what I've already done, but I promise you this won't happen again. If you're cross with me, I've rightfully earned your wrath."

"I'm not angry with you."

"Then how come you can barely look me in the eye?" he asked.

"It's not out of anger," she said, straightening herself and finally looking at him. "It's Avallac'h's plan. Tir na Lia." She shook her head. "I've been to countless other worlds since then. Most of them were more dangerous than the elves' homeworld and still... I'm ashamed to say I froze up when he said we need to go there."

"You think it's a bad idea to attempt what he suggested?"

"No, not at all. In fact, his plan might save a lot of bloodshed on both sides. My fear is based on bad memories, nothing more..."

"After what you went through, it's understandable. You know better than most what they're capable of."

She hummed. "Maybe, but I won't let an old fear keep me from what needs to be done. His plan has merit, and if you want my unbiased opinion, I say we should try it."

"If we do, we might need your friends to help."

"My friends?"

"Lyari, Akira, Ila, Olir, anyone who you trust and is capable. Even Tezzi, as much as I'd rather he not be a part of it."

She straightened and frowned at him. "What brought this on? You know that's not what they do."

"I haven't said anything about it to Ciri or Yen, but when we fought Imlerith something possessed him... Just like Reys." Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Made me think Eredin has new allies we don't know about and if we go alone I can't shake the feeling that we'll end up fighting something we're not prepared for."

"In that case, I'll speak to my friends with the first chance I get. It might take some convincing to get them to help but the Aen Elle falling prey to darkness would be nothing short of a disaster. I don't even want to think of the consequences if we don't stop this in time."

"Alright, then it's settled. I'll tell Avallac'h tomorrow to start working on finding a safe way to the Aen Elle world. Then we'll see about getting allies."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Thought you wanted to take the whole night to think about it."

"I didn't need the night, just your opinion. And your help. I appreciate both more than you know."

She nodded and laid back, absentmindedly running a washcloth over her skin. Her worries hadn't completely left her, so his hands searched for her legs under the foamy water and when he found them, he drew them into his lap, gently massaging the soles of her feet. She exhaled hard with her eyes closed, then shot him a small smile, looking at him from under half-lidded eyes.

"Is this your attempt at penance?"

"No, I know you hate it when I do that, so this is my attempt at helping you relax and taking your mind off serious things." His thumb pressed into the arch of her foot and she drew a deep breath. "Is it working?"

She nodded, closing her eyes again. "It feels amazing." Her chest heaved with a sigh and his eyes dropped to her breasts as they peeked out from under the water for a moment.

"I dreamt about this, you know," he said, moving up to her calves.

"About what, exactly?"

"You. Naked. In a tub full of water," he said, then stopped, remembering how he had been awakened from that dream.

"That's all?" she asked, grinning.

As much as telling her about it was like stabbing himself in the foot, he wanted to be honest with her.

"That's as far as I got. I was in Vizima, and I fell asleep taking a bath. Sadly, when I woke up, the servant girls were getting handsy with me."

To his surprise, she laughed. "Sadly?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

He smirked, offended. "Yes. Sadly. I dreamt of you, not them, so I sent them away." His hands skimmed higher onto her thighs. "As many rumours as there are about me, I don't go around chasing skirts when I'm committed to someone."

"Yennefer doesn't seem to think so," she said, boring into his eyes with amusement. "She thinks you're a serial womanizer who worms his way under skirts at all opportunity. I believe her exact words were that trying to keep you faithful is like trying to put perfume on a zeugel to make it smell better."

"That sounds like something she'd say." He grimaced. "No matter what she thinks, she was the only one cheating while we were together. I never ran around on her, but more often than not we fell out and separated for years at a time. If she counts the women I was with during those times as cheating, she should know better. With the djin's spell on us, I couldn't love any of them like I did Yen, but I needed to find a measure of comfort somewhere."

"Was Triss one of those women whom you didn't love?"

"Yes, and no." He sighed. "That was more complicated."

"I'm not surprised. She seems softer than Yennefer. I could see how you would fall for her."

He shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. Don't let appearances fool you. Triss is as calculating as the rest. She slipped me a potion to get me into bed and then fed off the guilt I felt for sleeping with one of Yen's closest friends. Later, when I lost my memory, she pretended we were in a relationship and kept the truth about Yen and Ciri from me. Only admitted it when I caught her in her lies. And believe me, I can understand and forgive her for lying about Yen, but not about Ciri."

He moved down to her calves again and lifted both her feet onto his shoulder. She gave him a disapproving look.

"You're not moving in the most relaxing direction. In fact, you're moving away from it."

He kept massaging the same spot. "It felt inappropriate to try to get between your legs while we're discussing my exes. Even I'm not that big of a cad." His hand swept up her shin to her knee. "Besides, you've hardly told me a thing about what you've been doing while I was away. Why were you taking trips away from this world? Was it work or just boredom?"

"Neither exactly, but you could say it was closer to work." She drew in a breath when he worked out a knot in her calf. "Do you mind it if we don't talk about this now? I don't want to spoil the relaxing effect of your massage."

"Alright. Any other requests? I'm at your beck and call tonight."

"Yes. Just one. Come closer, I want to feel you next to me."

He smiled and scooted towards her, shifting them both until she sat between his legs, with her back resting against his chest.

"Better?"

"Much," she said, leaning back. "I wanted to see if you feel as good against me as I remembered."

His hands moved to the top of her back and at her nape. He rubbed circles into her tense muscles until she moaned and hummed, then he shifted his attention to her shoulders.

"You're doing a great job of relaxing me," she said, her palms resting on top of his legs. Her thumbs caressed against the inner part of his thighs and a shiver of anticipation ran through him.

She sighed again as his hands drifted to her mid-back and her breasts surfaced again, drawing his eyes. By instinct, he leaned in and pressed his lips against her neck, feeling her pulse race underneath. It felt so good to have her against him again, to smell the comforting fragrance of her skin. She was there, in the flesh. Not just the dream of a desperate unworthy man. She twisted, offering her neck for him to kiss while her hand reached back to stroke him slowly. Her fingers curled around him with the barest hint of pressure. It was enough to make him remember how ravenous he was.

"Fuck," he grunted against her skin, laying open-mouth kisses around the side of her neck. His hands cupped her breasts, lifting them and pressing them against each other. Small patches of bubbles slid off them as he swept his thumbs over the peaks of her nipples.

"Was this in your dream?" she asked, with one hand stroking languidly up and down, the other reaching around his neck.

He hummed against her skin and drifted his lips up until he caught her earlobe in between them while one hand slid between her legs. "Reality is much better," he said as his index brushed against her clit, his other hand grasping a breast. She moaned and shifted in his lap, her bottom brushing against his hard cock, making him press against her in search of that sweet friction.

"I missed you so much," he whispered in her ear, fucking into her hand and against her ass as his hands felt her up.

He searched for her mouth and she turned in his arms to let him capture it in a kiss. Her soft lips and tongue brushed against his like fine silk, and it absorbed all his attention. He couldn't focus on anything but his want for her, to see her and feel her curled around him. With his elbow, he kicked everything off the chair that lay next to the bath, then twisted with her, bringing her to the edge of the tub while still not prying his lips from hers. The sound of the oil bottles and soap crashing to the floor startled her into breaking the kiss.

"I've thought of a better use for that chair," he said, grabbing her hips to lift her out of the water and onto the chair.

His hands coursed down over her thighs, spreading them in front of him. "Perfect," he said, kneeling between her legs, bringing his mouth over her stomach, then drifting downward. He tasted her, mixed with the bitterness of the fragrant oil.

He both wanted and needed to feel as close to her as possible, so his arms hooked around her legs and brought her to the edge of the chair until she had to lean back to hold herself up on her hands. Her unmistakable taste soothed the dull ache of longing inside him. His tongue dragged and flicked over her, eager to draw those beautiful breathy moans from her lips, to make them round around his name. Her taste and her pleasure became his sole focus as he looked up to see her gaze at him entranced, mouth open on a sigh. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, as his tongue worked her into a frenzy and his eyes lingered over the beautiful curves of her breasts as they bounced.

It wasn't enough. It would never be enough, he thought as he tilted his head and angled her hips towards his mouth. His tongue ran over her, licking and kissing her clit until his name left her lips in a whisper.

With one hand, he held her hips, while the other skimmed over the slick skin between her legs. His eyes followed the way her muscles twitched as his fingers caressed and spread her before dipping inside.

Oh, how his memories paled in comparison to the real thing beneath his touch. Mesmerized by the feel of her, his tongue flicked over her until she trembled under him. She was right on the edge and a little more pressure would send her flying but nothing compared to how hard she came after he edged her a bit. So, he kept her on the brink of her orgasm, alternating between licks of his tongue and thrusts of his fingers. He relished how she tightened around his fingers when they curled inside her or when his tongue pressed on her, demanding and responsive to everything he did.

Her fingers curled into his hair as he wrapped his mouth around her clit, kissing it delicately while his fingers fucked her slow and deep right to the edge again. She drew him closer and held him there, possessive and desperate.

"Geralt, please," she whispered. "Please, don't stop."

He didn't.

With the same languid pace, he pushed her slowly to the orgasm she chased. She clenched around him, her whole body shuddering, wetness dripping down his fingers and chin as he pressed his tongue to her until the echoes faded.

He kissed around her inner thigh, fingers still pumping lazily into her, coaxing the last drops of pleasure from her.

"Relaxed?" he asked.

She couldn't muster a response, just a light satisfied chuckle and a slow nod. He laved over her slowly and tenderly, smiling against her skin, revelling in how ravishing she looked splayed out for him. This was a sight he had missed dearly. One he was thankful for having the good fortune of seeing again.

Her fingers coursed through his hair as she smiled crookedly at him. "The water must be cold by now. Why don't we move this to bed?" she asked.

He didn't waste his breath on a reply. He simply sat up and scooped her into his arms, with her legs wrapped firmly around his hips. In a few steps, he reached the bed and lowered her onto the mattress, not caring that they were dripping water all over it. He rested on a forearm above her, while his other hand caressed up from her hips to her breasts and higher, in the end, cupping her cheek and brushing a thumb over her lips. This was all he had dreamed about. To be able to kiss her and look into her eyes and see the love behind them, that she hadn't forgotten him. And yet, some part of him still felt like it was all a dream.

He pinned her on the bed under him, with her legs hiked around his waist, and for a long moment, he just stood there, gazing at her with a soft smile. She had missed that smile more than she cared to admit. His thumb brushed against her lips and she couldn't help but nip at it, her teeth grazing over his pad, desperate to draw him out of his reverie. It worked, and the next moment, his mouth was over hers, stealing her breath.

Sparkles of magic sizzled around them as his tongue delved into her mouth, his whole body pressed against her and everywhere he touched her, her nerve endings came alive with pleasure.

She came alive when she was with him.

His kiss was once again a slow, sensual trickle that played with her mind. It was delicate and passionate and possessive and tender all at once.

Her fingers combed through his hair and her nails scratched over his back, feeling tense muscles writhing under scarred skin. She caressed down his back to his hips and pulled them towards her.

It had been too long. Too long since they had been together, too long since she had seen him overcome with his need for her, too long since she had felt wanted with desperation.

She needed all of it back, the lust, the want, the strangled cry of her name as he chased his pleasure with abandon.

He understood her, and with his mouth still over hers, he nudged inside her, inch by inch, with slow, shallow strokes.

It was the most delicious form of torture to feel so much of him and not have it be enough until he was pressed up against her, filling her. And he still knew how to work her body perfectly. His firm hand grasped a breast and lifted it towards his mouth while fucked into her, slow and deep. He licked against her nipple until it hardened, pulled on it with his lips, stealing heated looks at her from time to time and his hips kept driving forward into her. She held him against her chest, nails scratching his scalp, and moaned his name. It was all she could do. All she could think about was how good he felt, how full he made her as she headed towards another orgasm with a steady build. His groin brushed against her clit with every thrust, stirring the heat between her legs into a fire.

"Geralt," she moaned as his mouth moved to her other breast, lavishing it with the same care.

She held on to his shoulders and grinded against him in response. Her inner walls clenched around him tightly with every thrust until he moaned against her skin and looked at her with fiery eyes. Seeing the desire raging in them sent her spiralling to her undoing. He sealed her lips with his, just as she was coming around him, swallowing the moans leaving her chest, panting against her under the strain.

"I love you," he whispered against her mouth, never stopping the roll of his hips. "And I still can't get enough of you."

His hand drifted down the back of her thigh to her ass and lifted her off the bed. With each thrust of his hips, he was closer to joining her, growing harder inside her. Holding his pace became a struggle as he wavered between slow steady thrusts and a faster rhythm. With a grunt, he pulled out of her and rested his forehead over hers while his hand sought a way between her legs.

"I want to see you come again, but I fear I'm not going to last. It's been too fucking long and it's too fucking good."

He kissed her long and tender, moving from her bottom lip to her top lip, opening her gently, sliding his smooth tongue into her mouth while his fingers played between her legs until she was bordering on another high. He thrust back inside her, finally giving her back the fullness she craved.

"Too fucking long," she agreed in a broken moan, pushing into him, chasing her pleasure with abandon.

She clung to his neck, numb to the outside world. Everything around her reduced to the sound of their breaths, the touch of his lips against her skin and fast pounding between her legs. She might have screamed if she could have found her voice, instead she arched into him with a moan, overcome by the intensity of her orgasm, while he fucked her through it. A loud grunt pressed into her neck before he followed it with a messy wild kiss. His lips never left hers while his hips stuttered in a few final hard thrusts before he spilt inside her.

Buried inside her, pinning her to the mattress, he chased her tongue with long, slow movements and she wished they could remain like this, entangled the whole night. Even if the world came back into focus slowly, all she could bear to care about was that she was in his arms again.

Tomorrow could wait. Tonight was theirs.

A/N: Alright, this chapter marks the return of the smut :D I know I kind of stretched people's patience thin, so... Thank you for sticking around to read, I hope you enjoyed it! Comments are always appreciated!