every_blossom_blooming | after the fall festival

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after the fall festival

Nina couldn't remember the last time she had fun like this. She'd had fun, happy moments, but all of them against the backdrop of something moving beyond her control. Maybe Darrow was no different, in the end, but at least here she wasn't coerced into debt, she wasn't constantly waiting for the next thing she would have to do for the gang that offered her protection. She still worried: she worried about Ravka, about the moment she left behind, about her friends.

But all day today she had not let a single one of those things bother her. She'd danced until she felt like she would drop and only then did she let Geralt guide her away from the square and the music, and she happily pressed against his side, her arm draped around his waist.

"Thank you," she said warmly; in the dying sunlight her eyes had become a deep green. The gratitude was heartfelt, the feeling infused each simple word. Her cheeks were still flush from their joyous exertion. "It's been a long, long time since I danced like that."

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With Nina's permission, Geralt didn't wait a moment longer. He pressed above her again, guiding himself between her legs and pressing slowly in to meet her hips with insistent pressure. Geralt gave a low growl of satisfaction, feeling the throb of tight heat around him.

It tumbled into a groan as he pressed their foreheads together, brushing the straight line of his nose against her cheek. He could feel her eyelashes brushing against his face.

Nina moved her fingers when she felt his cock brush against her. She helped guide him, not that he needed it, and as he sank into her, she breathed out a moan.

"Oh, saints," she gasped, shivering at the sound of Geralt's voice as he pushed deep. She lifted her hips to meet him, and for a moment she felt a stretch but it was good.

Her thighs pressed to his hips and her hands slid up his back, one tangling up in his pale hair as their brows met. She could feel his breath warm against her skin, the vibration of his voice. She was deeply aware of the way his heart beat, of the way her own had quickened to meet it.

Geralt bent to brush the bite of his beard against the impossibly soft skin of Nina's breast, before taking it into his mouth and wrapping his tongue around her nipple.

He could feel the tug of her hand in his hair, it was blissful. He moved. Out, slowly, and back in. A sedate pace, rocking like ocean waves, before he pressed his face into the juncture of her shoulder and neck with a growl, and thrust in deeper, harder, faster.

Her fingers tightened and she rocked her hips up to meet the next thrust as he teased her. His mouth sent pleasant little shocks through her and her delicate pallor betrayed her: a blush started to spread across her chest.

His growl sounded deliciously feral and her excitement spiked, just waiting for a bite. Geralt so often left little bruises across her neck, her shoulders. Nina rarely tried to hide them, too pleased by the memory of how she got them.

Her breath caught when his pace changed and she dropped one hand to brace against the rooftop, fingers curled tight against the blanket as she moved to meet him. The angle of their bodies was good; she let her head drop back as her voice rose in a sharp, sweet sound.

"Geralt--"

"Nina," he breathed.

He felt her come close, heard her, the way her breath stuttered, the way her thighs started to shake and her eyes grew dark, almost black. Geralt leaned against her, sinking his teeth into her shoulder, gently enough not to break skin. Love bites, not a battle between them.

His belly tightening. It would be soon for both of them. It had been good, euphoric, to be inside her. So close to her. It had been too long for him, with his needs, and difficult not to love her desperately.

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.

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.

Nina held him tight, finger pushed into Geralt's hair as he ensured her shoulder would bruise. A last, soft moan escaped her when she felt him finish; there was no risk, so it didn't occur to her to worry. Geralt was sterile, he said, and even if he wasn't: Nina was a Heartrender.

She sank down, her fingers slowly relaxing their hold as she tried to catch her breath. A little grin, satisfied and tired, curved her lips as Geralt rained kisses down on her flushed skin.

As he pulled away, she drew her legs together and stretched as he threw the other blanket over them. She was glad that she had mentioned bringing more than one.

"Nice, huh?" she teased as she twisted onto her side to face him. She could feel the bruise on her neck, neatly in the shape of Geralt's mouth. She didn't bother with it. She wanted it there. "I'll have to up my game."

But she was only teasing, and she was a little lost in his smile. Nina leaned close to kiss it, to kiss him.

"Not much of a poet." He was apologetic, but amused. Geralt knew where his best qualities lay, and knowing how to talk about his emotions wasn't one of those areas. But he also knew Nina didn't need to hear his words to confirm how he was feeling.

He kissed her back, chasing after the sweet taste of her mouth.Leaning against her side, he reached across her for the bottle of wine again.

"Glad you liked it too. Nice to know I haven't finally soured with age."

Nina huffed a quiet laugh and rested her head against his shoulder for a moment, staying out of the way while he took a drink from the bottle. When he was finished, she sat up, allowing the blanket to slide, and took it from him.

"Mm, you're aging like wine, darling. Not vinegar." She winked at him before she took a drink. "Hopefully I will, too. A nice, full-bodied red, I think."

"Guess that makes me an excessively dry white," Geralt said. He snorted.

He watched her drink, eyes falling from her mouth to the delicate bones of her shoulders and chest, and further below, to the round swell of her breasts over the line of the blanket. She had a round shape, almost aggressively feminine. It was different from Yennefer, enough that Geralt was relieved.

Also, turned on. It would have been nearly indecent how much he was, if he'd been raised to feel that sort of indecent.

"Darling, huh?"

Nina noticed the way he looked at her; she smirked against the mouth of the bottle and tried to ignore how warm his gaze made her feel. She needed a moment before she thought about throwing herself at him. And maybe a snack.

She tried to ignore how his body reacted to the sight of hers. But it was difficult when they were so close.

"Mhm. Darling, sweetheart, dearest, moya lyubov," she cooed sweetly.

Edited 2017-10-29 01:38 (UTC)

"Elaine deargaderyn" he returned. Geralt wasn't very good at pet names, or naming things at all, but he was satisfied with himself and his effort. He reached for the bottle again, stealing it from Nina's hands to take a long draw. The alcohol would settle him.

"Sorry. Metabolism. I don't -- there's no refractory period."

There had been a reason, of course, that witchers were seen as a sexual curiosity.

She didn't know what she said, but it sounded endearing and it made her smile. "What language is that?" she asked, forever wanting to pick up new things.

"Oh, I've noticed." Nina moved lazily, sliding on top of him while keeping the blanket more or less over them both. She was careful not to bump the wine bottle. "And I haven't asked you to apologize yet." She winked at him.

Geralt had been a gentleman about it since they started getting intimate, but she had noticed.

He cleared his throat, and turned a light shade of pink anyway. It was good, that she didn't mind it. That she didn't consider him some lewd, beastly, base thing. He could control himself, of course, if need be. He wasn't a young witcher, fresh out on the Path anymore. But Nina had never voiced anything that would have made him think he had to, or ought to.

Geralt let out a long, low breath, feeling her nipples brush against the tight skin of his chest.

"The Elder Speech. Hen Llinge, the language of the Aen Seidhe. Elves. It means something like a pretty red bird. A cardinal. Do you have cardinals in Ravka?"

Edited 2017-10-29 02:11 (UTC)

Everything in her softened and Nina leaned down to kiss the tip of Geralt's straight nose. "Yes," she murmured, a little smile on her lips. "We have cardinals in Ravka."

And he wasn't the first person to call her little red bird.

"I like it. And you're cute when you blush." She smiled and plucked the bottle of wine from his hand.

"What?" Geralt gave a soft little laugh, at the way she seemed to melt above him. Gone was the mischief that usually hung around her demeanor, replaced with something very gentle, very young.

He gave up the wine readily, though he turned beneath her to reach for the basket. She'd said she'd brought along some food. He found he needed some, after, although he hadn't felt hungry at the time.

Her bottom was a warm and sturdy weight over his thighs.

"Should we get dressed? In case?"

In the basket, Geralt would find slices of meat, cheese, and bread, along with a large bunch of grapes and a few apples, and her tin of ginger snaps.

"Someone called me something like that before, I don't know what that says about me. But I like hearing it from you."

She took a drink from the bottle and helped to get the basket closer so she could could reach it. She didn't seem eager to give up her seat. Nina made a face at the thought of getting dressed.

"I suppose I could put my dress back on."

Geralt made a sound of relief and pleasure to discover just what ina considered snacks. He didn't know if she'd done it for his sake, or for her own, but he was appreciative of that propensity of hers regardless. He pulled out some of the packages and set them on the blanket.

"It's not too dark for you up here? I could help."

Geralt gave her another long, lazy once-over, face gentle and filled with lingering desire. He could be happy, just staring at her for hours. But he doubted she would be so happy just sitting there being enjoyed.

"Just thinking of your honor," he teased. "Whatever's left of it now that you've spoilt it by bedding an evil, greedy witcher."

"Besides, you seem to be enjoying the view. How could I deny you that?" She winked at him, but she did adjust the blanket over her shoulders.

"If you want to put together a few and feed me, I'm not going to fight you." Nina could see alright - enough to tell the difference between slices of cheddar, kielbasa, and baguette slices - but she wouldn't mind Geralt taking care of her.

Nina laughed and rolled her eyes. "Please, obviously you've been bewitched by the unnatural powers of a Grisha," she quipped.

"It's a good view," Geralt said, earnest again. "One of the better ones. And I grew up in a remote Kaedweni mountain valley."

He took the hint and began assembling for Nina as well as himself. He suspected she could see well enough, but he had no way of actually knowing. His own eyes adjusted quickly, naturally, to nearly anything. Geralt couldn't remember what the world had looked like before.

The witcher held one of the bites out to her, before sticking one in his own mouth. He held it between his teeth while he leaned to reach for her dress, and his own briefs.

He stood to pull them on, white skin bright in the moonlight.

Nina accepted the bite happily; she slid off Geralt's lap so that he could stand and cover up. She took a moment to appreciate the view; he looked good in the faint moonlight and starlight.

She reluctantly pulled her dress back on, not bothering with any of her underthings. She would just make sure not to forget them up here when they left.

"Will you stay the night?" she asked as she started constructing another few bites for both of them.

Edited 2017-10-29 03:12 (UTC)

He reached for his trousers next, the thick hunter green curdoroy he'd worn to the festival earlier. He hadn't expected to end up here. He might have dressed more nicely if he had, at least, in his own vision of nicely. He might have brushed his teeth before leaving, might have trimmed his beard.

But Nina never seemed to mind. Never seemed to complain. That, too, was refreshingly unlike Yennefer.

"That's what you'd like?"

He sat himself down again and reached for his unbuttoned shirt. And the wine bottle.

Nina gave him a soft look as he sat down again. "Yes," she answered. "That's what I'd like." She considered a moment and added, "If it won't bother you."

She knew, sometimes, the city was too much for him. She hoped her apartment was a little oasis, at least. She tried to make it that way: she'd gotten heavier curtains to block out sound at night, and the street lights.

She ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing it a bit to get it out from under the collar of her dress.

"Not tonight," he said, and nodded his assent, so that she knew he meant that it wouldn't bother him. He hadn't been doing any hunting in the last few days, fortunately. He hadn't taken any decoctions, any philtres. He was feeling relatively human, in the greater scheme of things. It wouldn't be unbearable to spend the night in Nina's apartment with her, rather than at his camp in the woods.

Plus, the nights were growing damp and cold. Geralt could handle the weather, physically, but it was bad for his mood and worse for the ache in his bad leg.

"Maybe we could watch a movie."

He liked movies. He also didn't use his own television, at the apartment. He didn't know how and refused to learn. He looked young, but he was old at heart.

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