Geralt followed her down, hips snapping against her as her shudder beneath his body brought him to completion. He wrapped his mouth around the mark he'd left on her shoulder, sucking it gently, before his hips slowed, his breathing steadied.

He kept his focus on Nina, even though his eyes, usually thin slits, were filled with black, strangely glittering pupils. He dropped kisses along her chest and breasts, before licking her wound in a slow swipe, like a grooming cat might. Geralt didn't want it to hurt, and the act would, actually, help. Though Nina could obviously take care of herself.

It was already starting to grow cold around them. Geralt gave a deeply satisfied groan, before very gently sliding out of Nina and falling down beside her, tossing the spare blanket over their torsos.

"That was nice," he said. He was smiling.