This chapter is all fluffy smut :) Still not sorry about it!
To his surprise, Geralt woke to an empty bed. He expected to find her next to him, curled by his side, hugging his waist like she often did. Instead, he lay surrounded by cold sheets, and if they hadn't smelled of her, he might have thought she was a figment of his imagination. After all, the previous night had been nothing short of unbelievable, a rollercoaster of emotions that ended with his heart singing when he heard her speak the words he had been longing to hear, the ones he hadn't dared hope would ever leave her lips. She loved him. He smiled and repeated the words inside his mind. The best three words anyone could ever hear.
The silence was broken by the sound of panting. A dull slamming noise coming from the kitchen made his ears perk up, so he got up to investigate the source.
The sight that met him put a grin on his face. She was kneading dough, wearing only an apron, smeared with flour up to her elbows, her brow covered in sweat. He watched her silently, his arms crossed over his chest, as she pushed into the dough with the heel of her palm and slammed it against the stone top. Her apron was hanging loosely around her neck and was barely covering her breasts. Each time she moved, her perfectly round and pink nipples peaked out of the sides. He cleared his throat to get her attention and smiled at her.
"This might be the best image I've woken up to."
"Did I wake you? Was I making too much noise?" She wiped her brow with her forearm and kept on kneading the dough.
"Mhm, I thought maybe you've hidden another lover in the kitchen," he joked. "I'm glad to see it's just bread that's making you pant so hard."
"We're out of bread... And I don't want to leave the house today... So I'm making it myself..."
"Mhm, you do that..." He walked up behind her and ran his hands down her body, starting from her shoulders, down her back, until they rested on her bare bottom. "I can do some kneading of my own while you're busy."
"Geralt, if you give me a few minutes, I'll just put this in the oven and wash my hands. I'm covered in flour."
"I will do no such thing," he whispered in her ear and slid a hand through the side of her apron, grabbing one of her breasts. "You can't seriously expect me to just watch you when you look so tempting."
He nuzzled at her neck, just breathing in her scent lazily. Apples, caramel, lime and her. But not just her. Now she also smelled of him. He was on her skin, in her hair, on her lips, and he wanted to be in every cell of her body, inside and out. His lips grazed her ear and her whole being responded in anticipation of what was to come. Her heartbeat sped up, cheeks and chest became flush, breathing staggered. He pressed himself against her back, his length against her bottom. She giggled, but the sound turned into a pleased hum as his other hand reached between her legs.
"Oh, whatever will I do?" she sighed, feigning despair. "I'll just have to let myself be fondled by the lusty witcher." She giggled again and let out a soft moan.
"Hmm, we're doing role-playing today?" He kissed the crook of her neck and squeezed her breast. His index and ring fingers spread her while his middle finger glided back and forth between her legs. "Am I the evil witcher taking advantage of the helpless kitchen wench?"
"Mhm, that sounds interesting..." She pushed her backside into him provocatively. "I have a feeling the dangerous, but alluring, witcher will bend over the kitchen help and fuck her thoroughly."
"By how wet this wench is, I think she's quite fond of the said witcher."
"More than fond. She fucking loves him!"
He smiled against her skin, then pulled her apron so that her breasts spilt out and pushed her onto the cold stone, ass up. She looked over her shoulder, biting her lip in anticipation with a dirty grin on her face. Gods be damned, he loved seeing her like this.
One hand found purchase on a plump cheek, while the other teased her clit before positioning himself against her. She closed her eyes and let out a breathy sigh as he sank into her. He savoured that first slow thrust, feeling her hot and tight around him until he was flush against her ass. His next thrust was a little faster, a little harder, pulling out halfway before slamming back into her. Her fingers dug into the soft dough, trying to find solid ground to cling to as he picked up the pace. Dark hair spilt over the counter and into the mass of flour, hiding her face from him. There was nothing better than watching her unravelling, so his fingers threaded through her hair, gathering it at the nape of her delicate neck.
"I want to see you!"
Her eyes rolled back into her head as he pulled her head back, while his hips snapped forward. She moaned and cursed under her breath, her voice low and sultry.
"I want to hear you too," he whispered into her ear as he fucked into her.
She clenched and shuddered around him at his words, then rewarded his request with her pleasured, filthy begging. Hearing her ask to be filled and fucked, telling him how amazing he felt inside her, how she wanted him to feel him come, only fuelled the flames of his passion. It was a fire that refused to be put out, scorching everything in its path, consuming him, melting his body and soul into hers until they became one and burned the world together. His pleasure danced on the edge for as long as he could keep it at bay, but the lewdness of her moans and the tightness of her body eventually pushed him into the abyss. He panted into her skin, his mouth on her shoulder, tasting the salt of her sweat, feeling utterly spent and satisfied. His hands skimmed over her chest and stomach before wrapping her in a tight embrace, her back against his chest.
"I love you," he whispered. "I'd do anything for you..."
When she turned her head to look into his eyes, her gaze was soft and adoring. She hummed and ran her fingers down the side of his face to cup his jaw.
"I love you too... and I want you in the dirtiest ways possible."
He chuckled and kissed her. "Happy to oblige. Whatever the lady wants, the lady gets... As long as you don't ask me to hit you or something."
She laughed. "Hell no! We're not doing fifty shades... although I'd probably be down if you wanted to tie me up."
"What's fifty shades?" he asked, confused. "Is it like a sex thing I don't know about?"
"It's a series of books they made into movies... It's about... You know what? This might be one of those things you're better off not knowing about." She turned and raised herself on her toes, kissed him lustfully, and looked deep into his eyes. "Now... let's save some kinks for later, I need to get back to making bread. Might just have to start over again on this dough."
"Mhm, but I'd advise you to put some clothes on if you really want to keep me off you," he said as he kissed her cheek and slapped her behind, making her jump.
"Hey! I will, just as soon as I put this in the oven. It'd be silly to put clothes over all this flour. Right now I'm the one who looks like a loaf that needs to go in the oven!"
He burst out laughing, looking at her cheeks smeared with flour. "I must say, you look like a most attractive loaf of bread - that's a sentence I never thought I'd utter - but you have a point," he conceded. "I'll wait for you in the shower." He kissed her again and left her to her cooking.
Hot water ran down his body and even if it had become a daily habit, he still appreciated it. It was one of the things this world had gotten right and something he would surely miss. In fact, he could even get used to the rest of this world if given a little time. Even their cities seemed more amenable, not foul-smelling, crowded and disgusting like the ones back home.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Criss was standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on her face.
"There's someone at the door for you."
Fuck! He had been so blissfully happy that he forgot about the deal he made.
"It's probably the courier that guy mentioned. I hope you didn't answer the door looking like that." She was still wearing nothing but the apron.
"Of course not! I spoke to him through the door and told him to wait a few minutes."
He got out of the shower and quickly dried off before putting on some clothes and going to answer the door.
The courier waiting for him looked unremarkable, one of those faces you forget a second after seeing them. Unsurprising, given his occupation.
"The Director sends his regards." The man handed him a large brown envelope, turned, and left.
Once he was back in the apartment, Geralt opened the envelope. Inside it were papers: birth certificate, ID, degrees for studies, driver's license, credit card and everything else he might have needed. Including a bank statement showing his new account with a lump sum deposited in it. He had barely finished looking through them when his phone rang. A blocked number, but there was only one person it could be. He picked up.
"Mr Rivia, we kept our part of the agreement. I expect you'll do the same. A car will pick you up tomorrow at 8 am in the same place where they dropped you off."
"I'll be there."
"Excellent! We'll be in touch!" And the phone clicked off.
He went into the bedroom to see Criss coming out of the shower. She stopped in the doorway, looking worried and anxious.
"When are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow at 8 am, they'll send a car to pick me up. I don't know when I'll be back."
She closed the gap between them and hugged him tightly.
"I'm sorry. It's all my fault," her voice half-choked with emotion. He laughed, and she looked at him like he was mad.
"Your fault for what? Me getting what I wanted? This is exactly what I wished for. A job. I admit the way I got it left something to be desired, but beggars can't be choosers. And I can't really complain. This is the one job I know how to do above all else. And now I exist in your world. For all anyone knows, I'm an upstanding citizen with all his papers in order and even some money in his account."
He handed the envelope to her, and she checked each file it contained.
"They were thorough. These are authentic. They must have ties in high places to be able to construct a full identity for you. You even have a driver's license, despite you not knowing how to drive. They went above and beyond and didn't skimp on the money either." She looked at him apprehensively. "And the timing couldn't be better, even considering the tether. You are strong enough to endure without it for a day, but it won't be a completely pleasant experience. After some hours, you will get gradually weaker, so you'll need to be careful not to over-exert yourself hunting God-knows-what."
Her lips pursed, and she still looked tense.
"Stop worrying. Whatever I'll have to face can't be any worse than one of your constructs," he teased her.
"I hope you're right."
"I know I am. You are a cruel taskmaster." The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, so he continued. "The cruellest." He kissed her and her smile widened. "Most rigorous." He kissed her again. "Unrelenting." Another kiss. "Gruelling." She finally laughed.
"You sure know how to compliment a lady."
"Anything to make you smile."
"Mhm. I know you have an ulterior motive." She smiled and threw him a knowing look.
"Can you blame me for wanting to see those gorgeous legs decorating my waist?"
"I think they'd look great around your neck. And if you do a good job with that, we'll see about moving them to another part of your body."
"Yes, mistress." He grinned and tipped her into bed.
"Mistress?" She laughed, but he simply shrugged and smirked at her.
"I'm yours to command for the rest of the day." He knelt on the bed, between her legs. "It'll be just us. No work, no phones, no food for all I care, just you, me and this bed."
"So, you like the bed that much, huh?" she teased before kissing him and dragging him on top of her.
"You're really not worried at all about tomorrow?" she asked him while they laid in bed, his fingers lazily combing through her hair.
"No, it's what I do. What I've always done."
Her index smoothed over his brow. "Yet you have this intense look about you. Like you're trying to burn a hole through the wall. You're mulling over something by the looks of it."
"Mhm. But it's not about work. It's something else entirely."
"Anything important?"
"Yes. Very." He looked into her dark eyes and smiled. "But I'm not going to tell you. Not yet, anyway."
"You're really not going to tell me?" Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Not yet. You can always read my thoughts if curiosity gets the best of you."
"No, I'll be patient. I admit you got me curious, but if you don't want to tell me now, you must have your reasons."
"I do. I'll tell you once I see how this week goes."
She watched him sleep, not a care in the world on his face, and envied his confidence. Despite his encouraging words and the assurance he gave her, a feeling of irrational worry had made her toss and turn the entire night. She had barely slept an hour and although she felt exhausted, sleep still eluded her.
Why can't I escape this restless feeling? It's not even justified. I've seen him fight, nothing can stand against him. He's smart and resourceful. And yet, I can't help but worry. Is this anxiety the unintended consequence of love? This stupid, irrational feeling that clouds my mind.
And you, Sama, I know you hear me, although you haven't spoken to me since he got here. I can't lose him. Ciri can't lose him. Make sure he gets back in one piece! Take care of him when I can't.
Once she put her plea into words, a feeling of love, bliss, reassurance, and safety enveloped her like a warm blanket. They had not forgotten her; they heard her request. He would be safe, and the malignant feeling of dread and worry suddenly left her.
She finally fell into a deep sleep, and for the first time in weeks, she saw them in her dreams. Glowing, smiling, in their festive robes, the warmth of the sun washed over their bodies. Sama was the only one to speak. "We'll care for him. Go! You are still needed! You'll know soon why."
The alarm went off, and she woke up instantly. For a moment, she wished the dream had been longer, but Geralt was brushing the hair away from her face and was looking at her with loving eyes. What more could she ask for?
"Morning, beautiful," he said in his husky voice, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Morning, handsome... and very skilled lover." She smiled, and he grinned back at her.
"Mmm, I'm glad to see you're in a good mood this morning. I was afraid you were having nightmares last night. I felt you tossing around the entire time."
"I was worried, but I'm not anymore."
"Any particular reason?"
"Yes... But I'm not going to tell you!" She made a little spiteful face at him.
"Oh? Are you by chance being petty now? Is that what's happening?" He laughed.
"A little!"
She grinned and stretched her arms and legs as far as she could.
"We need to get out of bed... And we definitely need to shower and change the bedsheets! The entire room smells of sex and if I can feel it, it must reek to you."
"Who decided the smell of sex is a bad thing? It smells of me and you, and there's no better smell out there."
"I agree, but it's not a smell you want to take to work with you. So..."
She nudged him towards the edge of the bed, like a lazy cat who wants to make more room for herself.
"Mmm, you're kicking me out of bed so soon?" He grabbed her ankles and pulled her with him.
She giggled. "You're ticking me! No need to drag me out of bed, I'll come willingly with you!" She got up and walked towards the bathroom. He followed her just one step behind.
"Yes, you will! This morning, you'll come with me and for me in the shower..." he said with a grin and slapped her behind.
