A/N: There's some gratuitous smut in this chapter right at the end after the double line break. If you don't want to read it, you can stop there.

After a day of sightseeing and pampering, she thought they should return to business. Philippa's return couldn't be far off and they needed to be ready.

"Geralt, I appreciate your care, but I'm sure you have better things to do than attend me," she said as he once again brought her breakfast in bed the next day.

"Better? No, not really," he replied. She gave him a distrusting look so he continued. "There are preparations to be made, sure. But it's nothing worth skipping breakfast over. In fact, I thought we might mix business and pleasure later if you're up for it."

"Sounds intriguing. What did you have in mind? Another picnic?"

"No, not quite. But a little more sightseeing would be included and a walk. I need to gather some things for my potions and I know some nice places that have what I need. Thought you'd like to see them."

"Mmm, I'd love that," she said with no hesitation and it brought a smile to his face. "And this time I'm taking my sketchpad with me."

After breakfast, they dressed for the day and Geralt went down to make a run to a nearby shop to get the type of vials he needed. When she descended into the tavern she nearly collided with Ciri who had the biggest grin anyone had seen.

"You look like you had a good time," Criss commented as Ciri flushed a deep red and mumbled something about needing rest and a change of clothes, then skirted around her and made a dash for the stairs. Criss looked at her quick getaway with amusement, then dipped into the kitchen to get a few snacks for their trip before Geralt came back.

The cook was as amenable as always and readied a few treats. She paid him for his trouble and left after giving him her thanks. As she walked out the door, she caught sight of an elven cloak skirting around toward the service entrance at the back of the inn. She assumed it was Avallac'h, but before she could look twice, he was already out the door.

"There you are," Geralt said, rounding the corner towards her. "Been looking upstairs for you. You ready to go?"

"Mhm, got us some food and I just ran into Ciri," she said, putting Avallac'h out of her mind. "She no longer looked preoccupied with politics."

"Yeah, I saw her when she stabled her horse. Seems that spending the night with her friend wiped all cares away," he replied with a shadow of a smile.

"You think she has a beau? Is that what friend means here?" she asked, grinning.

He shrugged. "That's what she called her, but what she does is her business."

For a moment he froze mid-motion, then reached out to her with an apologetic look.

"There's something I've been meaning to say," he began hesitantly. "I've also called you my friend a few times in front of company... I wasn't meant as a slight or a dismissal. But it can be dangerous to be associated with me and I didn't want to paint a target on your back."

"I know, Geralt," she said, walking up to him and circling his waist. "I don't mind. Really, I don't. It doesn't matter what strangers think. It's not like I walk around advertising our relationship. Being discreet is not a bad thing."

He looked down at the arms around him and smiled. "We're far from discreet right now."

"There's no one here to see," she said after casting a look around them.

"Mhm," he hummed, pulling her close. "Means I can do this." He leaned in and kissed her long and slow until she purred against him.

"Damn, Geralt. Don't know if I can walk after a kiss like that," she said as he pulled away.

"Should I tack up Roach?" he asked half-joking.

She gave him a grin and a quick kiss. "No, but now that you mention it, I'd like to make a little stop at the stables before we leave."

He nodded and they headed out and across the street to the small enclosure where the guests' horses were kept. Criss rummaged through her bag until she found what she was looking for. The cookies she had made for her own mare before she was stolen. She offered one to Roach and after a quick sniff, the horse snatched it from her hand. She giggled and patted her neck.

"Trying to get on Roach's good side?" he asked after watching the interaction out of the corner of his eye. "She already likes you, you know."

"I wanted to give her a treat for saving us yesterday. Cookie used to love these," she said with a tinge of melancholy.

"Seems Roach loves them just as much," he said as his mare sniffed Criss's bag for more treats.

He eyed her thoughtfully and came to her side.

"How about we go down to the market this afternoon and see about getting you a horse of your own to spoil?"

"Don't tell me you're jealous because Roach likes me!" she said, laughing.

"Maybe a bit," he said wryly. "And we risk spoiling her rotten."

Criss grinned as they walked towards the city gates, secretly thinking that Geralt loves being the one to spoil Roach about as much as the horse enjoys the special treatment.

Hours later, Geralt was about done gathering the herbs he needed. All except some bloodmoss which could only be found at the bottom of the lake they were near. He cast a glance in the direction where he had last seen Criss and sure enough, she was still there, perched on a fallen tree trunk, with her sketchpad in her lap, completely absorbed by whatever she was drawing.

As he headed toward her he smiled, thinking it was good to see her thoughts had moved from her missing horse. Until that morning it hadn't registered to him just how sad she was over the loss and although he could do nothing to retrieve the mare, he could see to getting a new one. And this time it would be one she could choose, not a random one poached off bandits.

She only noticed him when he was a few paces away, peering curiously over her shoulder.

"I swear, Geralt, if I could get a heart attack you'd be sure to give me one. You move as quietly as a cat," she said, drawing a large breath with a hand over her chest.

"Sorry, it's a force of habit I guess." He nodded at the drawing. "Looks nice, but I see you've made a few additions."

"Drawing isn't always about what's in plain sight," she said, shrugging. "That old tower might look like a ruin now, but it wasn't always the case. I've just added what once was."

"And that?" he asked, pointing at a distinct figure in the corner of the drawing – small in comparison to the rest, but unmistakable in its silhouette as a witcher with one sword slung over his back and another in hand.

"The hero preparing to make a daring rescue. What story could be complete without it?"

He gave her a small hum and a nod as he began taking off his baldric and armour. She eyed him with a small frown until he was down to his shirt and trousers, then looked across her shoulder at the dirt road that lay nearby. It wasn't a very frequented one, but it was hardly deserted either. A farmer was riding down on it in a cart and a few women were heading in the opposite direction toward the fields. They were in the wilderness, but only a short distance from the small village of Arette.

He took off his shirt and huffed a small laugh at seeing her confusion as she turned back to him. It wasn't hard to imagine what she thought he was preparing for and he couldn't fault her for it either, but it amused him nonetheless.

"You want to do it here?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Do what?" he asked, removing his boots and biting back his laugh.

Her eyes dropped to his crotch when he began unlacing his trousers. "Sex," she replied.

Now he couldn't fight it any longer and let out a chuckle. "No, love. I was about to go diving for some bloodmoss and I didn't want to get all my gear wet. Thought I'd leave it here for you to keep an eye on."

She shook her head and laughed. "You're awful!"

"Hey, it's not my fault you have a dirty mind," he retorted with a grin before leaning down to kiss her breath away. "Am I still awful?" he asked while stroking his thumb along her jaw, looking at her reddened lips.

"Awful, smug... and a tease!" she answered rolling her eyes. "You need me to cast that spell on you to keep the cold away?"

"Think that kiss was enough to keep me warm."

"Damn smooth-talking witcher!" she laughed. "I'm serious. It takes only a second to cast."

"I can bear the cold, besides, there are a couple of fishermen around and I'd rather they not see you casting anything."

As he walked toward the lake, he could feel her gaze on him and it warmed him almost as much as the sun's heat. Finding the weeds he was looking for was an easy task with his keen eyesight and the lake's clear waters. In another place, he might have taken his crossbow or sword with him, but here it wasn't necessary. The drowner population had been culled many times both by him and the other passing witchers. He swam back to shore and felt the wind's chill down to his bones when he left the water, but he put a good show of hiding it.

She stole small glances at him as he returned, all the while wearing a knowing smile. When he neared her, he saw what drew her amusement. She had spent this time drawing a portrait of him and was just putting the finishing touches on it – small yellow smudges to colour his eyes, using pollen as a pigment.

"Thought you were drawing scenery," he said, spreading his travelling cloak over the grass near her and sitting on it to let the sun's rays dry him.

"You disapprove?"

He shrugged. "Not really, but it's strange to see. The only times I've seen my likeness drawn, it was on wanted posters," he said. "I almost expected to see a ransom price listed below my ugly mug."

"If you're baiting for compliments... you're fresh out of luck. You're smug enough as it is. There's no need to make it any worse by telling you how dashingly handsome you are," she said as she set aside her drawing and came to sit behind him, pulling his head into her lap. He chuckled and closed his eyes, settling better against her.

Her fingers coursed through his wet hair, smoothing it back as heat radiated from her hands. Little by little, she was drying him and warding off the chill from his bones.

"You really shouldn't do that in public," he said, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes to see that familiar gold glimmer that accompanied her spells.

"The fishermen have left with their catch and the road is clear for now," she replied, tracing his smile with her index. "As much as you want to hide it, you were cold."

"I still am," he said to her momentary chagrin. "But a few more of your kisses are sure to warm me up."

She laughed and leaned over him, pressing her lips to his.

"Better?" she asked, grinning.

"Hmm, I might need a little more," he replied, sitting up to properly kiss her, coiling an arm around her waist. Her laugh turned into a pleased hum when he parted her lips, deepening the kiss. He teetered on the edge, unable to decide between common sense and his desire, half of him wanting to push her back onto the blanket and strip her bare, the other half warning him of his folly. A low tune carried by the wind swayed him towards reason in the end. A villager going to the city was singing a merry song about a sun-kissed lass he loved. It wouldn't be long until he got close enough to see them.

Geralt leaned back and admired the blush he had stirred in her. "We have company." He nodded toward the road and she grimaced in response. "I'd better get dressed if we're to catch the market open," he said looking up at the sun to gauge the hour. "Promise that tonight I'll make amends for this rude interruption," he said, pulling her into his arms for a last kiss before they returned to the city.

She gave him an unhappy sideways glance but gathered her things as he geared up and placed the herb pouches into his satchel.

The market wasn't nearly as busy as he expected and the wares left much to be desired. They strode through the stalls, glancing at what was on sale, silently wondering if this scarcity was another consequence of the war or just a bad year for crops. At the far end of the square was the live market where cattle and poultry alike were being traded. He examined the horses from a distance, letting her have her pick.

She walked from stall to stall, taking each horse's measure in her own way. By his judgement, she had already passed by the best three horses on sale and he debated with himself if he should say anything or not until she finally stopped at the scrawniest mare in the bunch, a strawberry roan. She gave her a thorough look over, patted the horse's neck and smoothed down its coat, examining faint scars on the side of its hind left leg.

"This one will do just fine," she stated at the end of her examination.

The merchant beamed at her and stated his price, happy to be rid of his worst merchandise, but before she could agree, Geralt pulled her to the side.

"You're sure this is the one you want? I think that grey gelding would be much better suited," he said, unable to help himself.

"There's nothing wrong with the one I chose. She's leggy, but not too tall for me and still sturdy despite the mistreatment she suffered. Look," she said, extending a hand to the mare. "She's not the slight bit skittish and with a little care she'll be in fit shape in no time."

He gave the horse another look and sighed. She wasn't wrong about it, but he would have preferred to get her one that didn't require so much work. He might have fought her on it if she wasn't so obviously dead set on getting that particular mare, so instead, he just paid the merchant his asking price and took the lead.

"You chose your horse, now at least let me choose a proper saddle for it," he said when they passed by another stall that sold what he was looking for. He picked the best that suited her size, while the merchant shot disparaging looks at the mount it was meant for, clearly thinking it a waste.

By the afternoon, they were back at the inn, the new horse stabled and cared for.

"You chose a name for it?" he asked, resigned with her choice.

She shook her head as they entered the Chameleon's tavern. "Not yet. I want to get to know her a little better before deciding on a name that suits her."

Horse names were never one of Geralt's dilemmas. For him, every horse was Roach, just like the first mare he ever owned. Few if any knew the story of his first horse, but all knew his unwavering loyalty to the name. He brushed his nostalgic thoughts aside when Criss squeezed his arm. Dandelion was headed for them in a huff and it was enough to have one glance at him to know he was borderline hysterical.

"What is it with all of them? Is there no common sense left in anyone? No respect? No decency?" he raged. "This place is going to shit and no one cares!"

"Whoa there Dandelion! What crawled up your ass?" Geralt asked with a frown.

If he were anyone else, Geralt would have taken this more seriously, but since the bard was a known drama queen and prone to overreaction, Geralt was reserved.

"Up my ass?" he yelled. "Geralt, you're... You're... Aaaah!" he fumbled for his words, his face reddening.

"Alright, Dandelion. Calm down," Geralt cooed, finally convinced that Dandelion's distress was real. "I'm sorry I didn't take you seriously. Tell me what happened."

Geralt grabbed his shoulders and guided him to a nearby empty table and sat him down. After a few deep breaths, the bard's colour returned to normal and he was able to speak again.

"It's that damned witch!"

Geralt stifled a smile. Damned witch was a description he could attribute to nearly all the sorceresses presently residing at the inn. "Which one?" he asked, tactfully.

"The owl, that's who!"

"Alright," he said, making a mental note that Philippa had returned in their absence. "What did she do this time?" he asked after another few moments of silence from Dandelion.

"She means to burn down the place, that's what!" Dandelion said, visibly in a rage. "She came a few hours ago, locked herself in her room. The room she abusively occupies and pays no rent for, might I add. And now I've received complaints from paying customers due to the smell and the smoke coming out of it." He drew in a breath and continued. "Like any good owner, I go to see if she's alright. Perhaps there has been an accident. You never know, after all.

"Anyway, here I am, knocking on her door with smoke choking me and what does she say? Thank you for your care, my dear and very talented poet? No! Of course not! She tells me to fuck off before she turns me into a toad!

"I had to evacuate the entire floor, lying through my teeth that there was a small fire that needed to be put out!"

Geralt was at a loss for words and patted his friend's back, glancing at Criss who had listened to the news with a frown. He knew full well that there was no one Philippa would listen to, not even the other Lodge members, yet he promised to go talk to Yen in the hopes that she'll smooth things out.

Even if Phillipa's room was on the second floor and Yen's was on the first, the smell and smoke had made their way down. He knocked on the door repeatedly, but there was no response.

"Let's try Philippa's," Criss suggested. "If whatever she's doing is connected to their plan, she might talk to you."

He nodded and headed for the stairs. The further up he got, the worse his eyes watered and his throat scratched. Criss was by his side, coughing with a kerchief covering her nose and mouth. They both banged on the door, loud enough to raise the dead.

"Go away, bard!" they heard the muffled reply from inside.

"It's Geralt. Open the door," he urged.

The door cracked a bit and through the opening he saw the sorceresses huddled around an alchemy kit, all of them wearing masks. Yen was the one who opened it, but instead of letting them in, she slipped out into the hallway, removing her mask and grabbing both their arms to lead them down the stairs. She didn't stop until they were in her room.

"What's going on, Yen?" they asked in unison.

"Philippa has returned with the last piece of the puzzle, that's what."

"Does that missing piece involve a way to suffocate the king?" he asked. The unpleasant taste of the smoke still lingered down his throat, souring his mood.

"If only it were that easy," Yen replied.

"Easy or not, if you don't find a way to control that smoke, someone's bound to call the guard over and that's the last thing any of us need."

"Duly noted," she acquiesced. "I'll clear the hallway and seal the room, but that's not why I came down here." He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "Tomorrow you need to set out in search of Philippa's hiding place. If the king is to believe you've found her, you've got to put in the effort so it looks real. And it wouldn't hurt if you found a way to make your plans known to him."

He nodded. "Yeah, I can do that. Does she have a place in mind?"

"Mhm, it's a little hut south of Seven Cats Inn. You'll find all the clues you need inside. She's laid out a nice track for you to follow. I trust you can handle it from there to lead them close without giving away the prize."

"Alright. I'll set out at first light tomorrow."

"Perfect," Yen said, gracing him with her cunning smile. "I've already sent word to our comrades, so by the time you return, all should be in place." She turned to Criss and continued. "And you're expected tomorrow at the bathhouse. Seems there's some news for you."

With that, she turned and left. Soon after, the smoke and smells cleared from the building and the inn's patrons returned to their rooms without the city guard showing up. Disaster had been averted by a narrow margin.

"Do you have any idea what they were up to in there?" Criss asked, glancing up at the staircase from the table where they supped.

"Brewing some potion, but can't tell you more than that. I didn't recognize the ingredients and even if I did, most of their concoctions are beyond my knowledge. But this reminds me, I need to brew a few potions of my own. Might have to requisition part of the kitchen to do it."

"You think Dandelion will agree to that after today's experience?" she asked with a grimace.

"He won't mind. I've done it plenty of times before and he never even noticed. There's a faint tangy smell to them, but that's about it." He stood, planning to head for the kitchen. "You can join me or wait upstairs if you want. It won't take me long."

"I'll come with you. I don't know much about classical potion-making, so I'm curious to see the process."

"I thought you'd be an expert in it," he said, leading the way.

"Hardly. Once I mastered matter transmutation, I had no need for it, although I recently had to take a few lessons in it from Avallac'h."

Once in the kitchen, he negotiated the use of a stove with the cook and pulled out the ingredients he collected that day. She watched him curiously, keeping her distance while he prepared the first mixture in a small pot and brought it to a boil over the fire, then set it aside to let it cool before pouring it into flagons.

"I expected you to need a lot more to brew your potions," she said, leaning forward to look into the pot.

"This is the simple version of doing it. A witcher on the Path rarely has the luxury of a fully equipped laboratory. Most times we have to make do with a campfire and a pot. And sometimes we don't even have a pot."

He smiled, thinking of a delicious fish stew he once ate out of a helmet, courtesy of Milva, Dandelion, Cahir and Regis.

"We've all learnt easier ways to brew our potions and each of us has tweaked the formulas to their needs. Unfortunately," he sighed after sniffing the mixture, "whatever we've tried, the potions are always foul-tasting and toxic to anyone who isn't a witcher."

"Can I try one?" she asked unphased.

"I just said they're toxic or haven't you been listening? Even this one, that's used for healing, would be potentially lethal to a human."

"A small taste won't cause me any harm, besides, I might be able to improve it with a little transmutation if I know what I'm working with."

"You really shouldn't..." Before he could finish his sentence, she had dipped a finger into the pot and tasted it.

"Ugh, you weren't joking when you said these taste foul," she said, nearly gagging in disgust.

The grimace she made would have made him laugh on any other day, but now he waited with bated breath to see if his potion had any other effects. He pressed his palm to her forehead, then checked her pulse and listened to her breathing. All looked to be normal. He lifted her chin and checked her pupils. Again, normal.

"Damn it, woman! You're absolutely insane!" he said, pulling her in a crushing embrace.

She laughed, muffled against his shirt. "You give me too little credit, Geralt."

"I give you plenty, but you seem to have such a blatant disregard for your own safety and wellbeing that it would turn my hair white if the Trials hadn't gotten to it before you."

She shifted in his arms, head raised to him, smiling faintly. It looked like she wanted to say something, but changed her mind at the last moment. Instead, she gave him a quick kiss and pulled away, heading toward the pot.

"Do you mind if I make a few adjustments to this?" she asked, eyeing the mixture with one hand poised to cast.

He huffed in annoyance, still unsettled by her rashness, but agreed. She got to work, casting spells and tasting the mixture each time to Geralt's continuous chagrin, and after a few tries, she nodded, looking semi-satisfied.

"It's not perfect, but definitely better," she said. "Try it out and tell me if it's to your liking."

He picked up a spoonful and frowned as the taste hit him. It no longer resembled what he knew, the bitter aftertaste replaced by a citrus flavour. Additionally, the burning sensation and the darkening of his veins under pale skin were barely noticeable.

"You're being modest," he replied by the end. "This is a major improvement on the original. You diminished the toxicity, didn't you?"

She nodded. "I figured that this way it wouldn't take such a toll on your body. Drinking these can't be too healthy, even for you."

"Says the crazy woman who tasted them unbidden after being warned of how dangerous they were," he retorted.

She waved a hand and rolled her eyes. "Don't be dramatic. I wouldn't have done it if I thought even for a minute that they could hurt me."

"You can't have known..."

"I made an educated guess, based on the ingredients. Besides, being a healer means dealing with poisons quite a lot. One of the tests required to gain my rank consisted of surviving drinking toxic mixtures."

He grimaced while he poured the potion into flagons and set up the pot for the next batch.

"I was under the impression that your people are more enlightened than that. That test sounds as brutal as a witcher Trial."

"It may sound that way, but it's not. All of us were trained healers with some skill amassed, properly prepared for the task, not scrawny children tied to benches and pumped full of deadly chemicals."

"Would have been great if you mentioned that before you gave me a fright," he said, sullenly keeping his eyes on the ingredients as he measured the correct proportions.

She came to his side, gently hugging his waist and resting her cheek on his shoulderblade.

"Sorry. I didn't realize you'd take it so seriously. Guess I'm not used to anyone caring so much."

He put aside the herbs and covered her hands with his. "Well, get used to it because I do."

Smut starts here

In another hour he was done brewing his potions and all were safely stored in his satchel. All of them had suffered one modification or another at Criss's insistence, mostly reducing their toxicity and improving their taste. The results varied in success, but all were an improvement on their predecessors.

After clearing the kitchen counters he had occupied and relinquishing the area back into the cook's care, they retreated to their room. He had barely set aside his satchel when her chest pressed against his back and her hands snaked around him, working the clasps of his armour with deft hands.

"You're getting better at this," he hummed, amused as his breastplate hit the floor, alongside his sword. Her hot mouth pressed over his shirt, into his shoulder and delicate fingers traced down his abdomen under the fabric.

"What can I say? I've been paying close attention the past two days. Knowing how to undress you is a must-have skill," she replied, shifting his shirt up and over his head. Now her lips pressed in earnest against the bare skin of his shoulderblade. A bite followed, and then the tip of her tongue traced the mark she left while her hands shifted down to stroke him through his trousers.

"Seems you appreciate my efforts," she said, finding him half hard from just a handful of touches. Her breath fanned over his neck as she unlaced him with one hand, while the other caressed over the fabric. By the time she reached down the front of his pants, he was fully erect.

She pulled one hand away to lick it, before reaching into his braies. He hummed pleased when she traced his length with the wet tips of her fingers while the other cupped his balls, but when her touch stayed light despite his yearning, he almost growled. His hand covered hers and pressed to increase her grip on him.

"No need to be so gentle," he grunted.

"I know it drives you wild," she hummed. "And I do like it when you're wild."

She wasn't wrong and her teasing had driven him ravenous. He squeezed around her hand and stroked it up and down his shaft, finally getting to feel her properly.

"If you prefer to do it yourself..." She laughed lightly against his skin and pulled her hands away.

"That's the last thing I prefer." He turned and grasped her hips, walking her back to the desk until the back of her thighs was pressed up against it. "But seems I'm dealing with a tease tonight and I don't know what to do about her." She looked up at him with a dare in her eyes, so he caught her wrists and pinned them on the desk next to her hips before sealing her lips in a bruising kiss. Her body grew lax against his the more he deepened the kiss. His thigh pressed between her legs, riding up into the seam of her pants until she moaned into his mouth.

He pulled his lips away, but kept his thigh against her, flexing the muscles so it pressed into her rhythmically. The tip of his cock grazed her belly each time he pushed up.

"Tell me, what should I do about you?" he asked with the smug smile she loved to see.

She tilted her head to the side, closing her eyes and breathing out slowly.

"Fuck me," she answered in a heavy voice on her next breath.

"Mhm, thought you might say that," he replied, nuzzling at her neck while she rode his thigh.

His mouth skirted lower until he met her shirt. He ignored the fabric and kissed over it, letting her feel his teeth through it. She gasped as he reached a nipple and arched into his mouth when he suckled at it through her shirt. He stole a look at her to see her watching him with darkened eyes, biting her bottom lip. Her eagerness was obvious even for a blind man. He could have had her then and there, but his desire to toy with her and push her to the edge was stronger than his want for release.

He moved to her other breast as she writhed against him. When her panting turned into frantic moans, he pulled away, keeping her wrists pinned in place. She whined, arching her hips towards him, but instead, he only grazed her cleavage and neck with his nose, letting his breath wash over her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake until he pulled her earlobe between his teeth.

"Geralt," she moaned his name.

"Mmm," he hummed back, kissing her neck and pressing his thigh against her for a few strokes, then pulling away again.

"Geralt," she whined again a little louder and more impatient.

He raised his eyes to hers, amusement curling his lips. "You really want it that bad, huh?" He paused to let her gather herself. "What are you willing to do for it?"

She wriggled in his hold and huffed when she couldn't get out of it. "Anything you want."

His gaze travelled down to her toes, then back up to her face. "Good answer," he finally replied, working to contain the hunger he felt.

He kissed her long and feverish and released her wrists, but only so he could tear at her clothes. The corset that held her waist was the first to go before he ripped her blouse apart right down the middle and slid it off her arms.

"Geralt, I liked that shirt!" she chided, galled at his savagery.

"Too bad, because I miss your old clothes," he growled as he nipped at her bottom lip repeatedly while he unlaced her trousers and worked them down her hips to her thighs, pulling her underwear with them.

"By now you'd have your skirt around your waist and I'd be inside you, feeling that tight...", he slipped a finger between her legs and she gasped, "...sweet...", he added a second finger, "...eager cunt...", she moaned in delight when he curled his fingers and rubbed against her sweet spot, "...wrapped around my cock..."

"Damn, Geralt!" she breathed, grasping his shoulders and trying to open her legs despite the pants that constricted her movements.

"Bet you'd love that," he growled against her lips, with one hand grasping her ass, the other between her legs.

She nodded eagerly. "Yes, Geralt! I want...", she panted into his neck as a third finger sunk into her wet heat and his thumb brushed against her clit, "...fuck that's good!" she sighed. "It's almost as big as your cock," she keened loudly, digging her nails into his back, her juices sliding down his fingers to his wrist.

He grinned and pulled away, leaving her empty and stunned for a moment. "Turn around and bend over the desk," he instructed as he stepped back, using the slick that covered his fingers to stroke himself.

Without a moment's thought, she turned and leaned over the desk, her breasts pressing against the random items left out. She went further than he'd asked, laying her hands over her asscheeks to spread herself for him. It took all his restraint to not sink into her right at that second. Instead, he moved behind her and let his thumb trail softly along her slit, alternating between drawing tight circles on her clit and dipping inside her. She clenched around his finger, shifting from one leg to the other to gain any amount of friction until she cursed.

"By all the gods, Geralt, I've done all you asked..."

"Yeah, you've been real good," he hummed sliding a hand up her back, to her shoulder and using the other to line up with her. He tugged her onto his cock as slow as his restraint would let him and she stretched around it and arched her back, her mouth falling open on a moan. She tightened around him as he drew back until she was almost empty again. When he pulled her onto him again using the grip on her shoulder, she looked back at him with clouded eyes, her teeth sunk into her lower lip, her whole expression begging him to keep going.

So he did.

With the same restraint he fucked her slow and deep and each time he bottomed out she called his name until her eyes rolled back into her head and she slumped against the table spent and shuddering.

He leaned forward, still inside her, and placed a kiss on her shoulder.

"You were right, this gentle approach can work miracles," he chuckled against her as his hand brushed her wet inner thigh.

"Damn smug witcher..." her words drowned in a long moan as he curled a hand around her hips to reach her clit.

"Tell me to stop," he drawled, gently brushing his fingers against her and thrusting inside her slowly. "Or do you want this smug witcher to keep fucking you?"

She remained silent.

"I was hoping for this answer," he said, smiling against her shoulder while his hips pushed into her, slow and purposeful. "I'll keep fucking you like this until you tell me otherwise."

He fucked her with the same torturous gentleness, letting her feel him fully and enjoying the way she came undone once he pushed her over the edge. This slow pace allowed him to do this time and time again, wondering how much she could take until she near growled.

"Please, Geralt!" She gazed over her shoulder, barely managing to focus on his face. "Fuck me harder! I want to feel you come!"

Obeying her wishes, he grasped her hip and thrust hard, this time chasing his own pleasure, not only hers. She clutched the edge of the desk, mouth open on a moan as he filled her and played her like the exquisite instrument she was. He wrapped an arm under her breasts and pulled her against him, her back arched like a taut bow. His mouth latched to her neck and her scent flooded him, intoxicating and addicting. She tightened around him again and again, riding new waves of pleasure until the swell dragged him down and he came undone alongside her.

He brushed his lips over her shoulder and she turned to meet his mouth. Tongues brushed each other, slow and languid until he pulled away. She turned and hooked her arms around his neck, dragging him down to her lips again.

"Insatiable," he whispered between kisses, caressing up her back.

She smiled in return and released him. "And you're still smug."

"You love it when I'm smug. Admit it," he said, chuckling.

She slapped his chest playfully and then proceeded to remove the trousers that were still halfway down her thighs.

"Well, these are ruined," she said, looking at the stains marking the fabric after their tryst. "Not to mention that," she pointed at the ripped blouse laying on the floor.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'd be lying," he replied, grinning. His own trousers were in an equal state of distress, so he followed suit and undressed. "I'll talk to Dandelion about sending these out to Vespula to be washed. And I'll stop by Elihal's to get you a replacement for the blouse."

"You'd better," she warned with mock ire.

"I promise," he replied, circling her waist as she drew them a bath, magically filling up the wooden tub. "Although I wouldn't mind having you walk topless for a while."

"And you call me insatiable?" she huffed, rolling her eyes.

He turned her in his arms and captured her lips in a kiss. "The gods saw fit for me to meet my match." He dragged her to the bed and for a long time the bath lay forgotten as they strived to sate each other once more.

It was the middle of the night when impatient knocks on their door woke them with a startle. She scrambled to cover herself while he wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door. A figure wrapped in a cloak collapsed at his feet with a loud thud.

A/N: This chapter is about half of what I planned for the week, but it turned out to be lengthier than I anticipated and this is as far as I got. The next one should be more serious... unless I get sidetracked :))

Hope you liked the read and hope to see you in the comments! Once again, I appreciate all the support more than you know! Thank you all for reading and have a good week!