"Mm-hmm," he mumbled. He licked a long, hot strip down Nina's neck and between her breasts before blowing gently on the slick line he'd drawn with the point of his tongue.

"Not so bad sometimes. Depends on what I've taken beforehand. Can hear the walls creaking other times, the electricity and the water in the pipes."

Geralt explained matter-of-factly, before taking the hand that he'd had pressed between Nina's legs and giving the palm its own lick, before wrapping it around his cock to wet it, root to tip, and then back down again, catching the pearly precome at the tip. There was no worry about pregnancy; there never had been, for Geralt.

His breath hitched. But he could be achingly patient.