Nina had resigned herself, more or less contentedly, to an evening of snacking and mental recovery after Geralt had interrupted a kiss to make a sandwich.

Silly her.

She had enough presence of mind to put her glass of wine down as he kissed her like that. The soft, surprised sound that had risen in her throat left her mouth in a breathy sigh as Geralt's mouth teased down her neck. The gentle bite and scrape of his teeth made her shiver; Nina's hands slid down Geralt's sides, stopping to grip his shirt tightly as his tongue teased over her pulse.

"Saints," she whispered, pinned between Geralt and the table and not at all displeased. "Here I got worried that food rated higher than me," she laughed. She slid one hand up to tangle in his pale hair.