She clutched the blanket beneath them and her other hand gripped his shoulder, manicured nails digging gently against his skin when he bit her.

Nina's urgency grew, desperate and consuming as she reached that edge, teetered there for a few delicious, long moments. One of the most glorious things about her specialty was that she didn't need to let go of Geralt to help herself along. Her hand spread on that blanket in a sharp, quick movement and she shivered hard beneath him.

"Saints," she gasped out, eyes closed tightly for a moment as she tightened around him, as she came, trembling, beneath him. It was delicious to feel him this way, to feel this bodily close.