DEAR PEOPLE: Had I checked the guidelines more carefully, I would have noticed that I cannot actually post this chapter here due to its very explicit nature. If you want to read the entire thing simply search for this story on AO3 since I posted it there too. Sorry for the inconvenience but due to the character limit on PMs I can't even message it to you.

Below you can find the non-explicit part of the chapter which… is very short.

The one with the Swayze-Thing

"Are you sure it's not going to rain? These clouds look like they're about to ruin someone's day…" Kit stated doubtfully as she floated on her back, her gaze directed at the sky.

"If it was going to rain my knee would act up," Geralt claimed with conviction. His knee was always right even though he had to admit that it looked like another storm was brewing.

They had set up a little picknick, prepared by Marlene, next to a small lake that was hidden somewhere in a forest. Apart from some blithely chirping birds, they were all alone. It seemed like not even the animals could be bothered to move in the day's heat. The air was sticky and humid and Kit had wished to go for a swim to cool off. Geralt himself had felt a severe need for cooling down once Kit had undressed save for her underwear. He had seen parts of her before but never so much at once. He desired her still, much more than he had initially assumed he would. But considering the situation, he had not dared to act on it and had tried to be content with sleeping next to her every night, wrapping himself around her slender body. They had never talked about it, it was just something that had established itself once Dandelion had taken over Geralt's bedroom.

When he saw her floating in the waist-deep water he remembered something: "What was that about the lake and the Swayze?" Geralt asked. He recalled one of their conversations from early on.

"You want to try it?"

"Maybe? I'm still not sure what it even is," he stated, not able to hide the doubt in his voice.

Kit turned around and faced him, wearing a mysterious smile. She took his hands and guided them to her hips. "Can you lift me above your head, holding me like this?" Geralt did not bother with an answer and just lifted her, effortlessly, which made Kit squeal a little in surprise. But then she tensed her body, stabilized herself by placing her hands on his shoulders. "Now, over your head, slowly…" Geralt arched his back and adjusted his stand while her hands let go of him until she levitated parallel to the surface of the lake. What it must look like from the outside, he wondered. And for a moment she hung there, laughing, a soft breeze caressing their wet skin.

Suddenly she twitched. "It's raining!"

As soon as she had said it, Geralt noticed how a few raindrops hit the surface of the lake. Slowly, he lowered her. On the way down, she glided along his body, skin on skin, one hand remaining in his neck, her breathing elevated. For a moment Geralt could swear he could feel her agitated heart beat in his chest. He lost himself in those blue eyes, taking no note of the few drops, that hardly qualified as rain, falling down on them.

"Do you understand now why it had to be in a lake?" she spoke softly. His voice was hoarse when he replied that yes, he did. The feeling of her nearly naked body pressing against his became the only sensation he perceived, everything else just vanished. No amount of cold water could extinguish the heat that was flaring up inside him, no force could match the one that was drawing him to her. Her eyes focused on him, only him. He felt the hand in his neck getting heavier so he gave in – because she had commanded him to. When his lips met hers, the intensity of their connection threatened to overwhelm him for a moment. He tasted the rain on her, greedily licked the drops from her lips as if he was dying of thirst. He could feel how energy raged through him, wild and not to be tamed. His hands desperately clawed her back to try to pull her even closer while he kissed her, rough, passionately, without remorse. She opened her lips, explored, teased him with her silky tongue. One of her hands started to roam, traced the muscles on his chest, down to his abdomen where it lingered, the tips of her fingers drawing circles above the waistband of his shorts. Her touch sent a pleasurable jolt through his body, rendering any resistance absolutely impossible. Geralt started to feel the strain of the fabric of his briefs.

…

It took a while for me to notice the stickiness of our sweaty skin and a little while more until I was able to hear his heart beat slowly in his chest. I felt so very calm and protected. There is a certain roughness to these acts, but the good kind, the kind that I liked.

It shouldn't surprise me anymore at this point, but when he switches afterwards and all that gentleness surfaces, it's made all the more startling because you'd never expect it from someone with his built, his past. His capacity for softness remains undiminished though. That was and is the only way I am able to see him. And I will make others see him like that too, even if it's the last thing I do.

When I lay there on top of him, his big hands wandering up and down my back I realized that everything was okay now. I was good. I was home.