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you are in my blood

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Jaskier and Geralt kiss their way to the bed, Geralt’s pulse loud and delicious in Jaskier’s ears, and they drop their bags on the floor and hit the mattress in a tangle. They grapple briefly for the top, but Jaskier magnanimously allows Geralt to win, mostly so the other will be able to get out of his armor easier.

“You’re not naked enough,” he informs him. Geralt grunts, either in acknowledgment or dismissal, and kisses him again.

Well, Jaskier’s hardly going to protest.

He winds his arms around Geralt’s waist and pushes a thigh up between his, even knowing the armor’s not going to allow for much sensation. Geralt groans all the same and buries his face in his neck.

“You’re definitely not naked enough,” Jaskier says, skimming a hand up one of his scabbards. Geralt grunts again but at least moves back enough to start stripping off his weapons. Jaskier makes a point of tugging at his armor to make sure Geralt won’t be stopping with his swords, and Geralt is a very good and obedient boy and follows his implied instructions. While he’s doing that, Jaskier kicks off his boots and shrugs out of his doublet, and Geralt looks at him as hungrily as if he’s the predator in this relationship.

It’s charming, really.

“Come here,” Jaskier says, grinning at him, and Geralt does, crowding back in against him bare of all his weapons and armor to kiss him again. Jaskier makes a pleased noise into it and kisses back, just barely keeping his teeth in his mouth. They don’t want to stay human-shaped at all.

He puts his hands under Geralt’s shirt to ruck it up and drag nails that aren’t quite sharp enough to be claws over vulnerable flesh. Geralt leans into it and kisses him harder, and Jaskier sighs in pleasure. Geralt really is so good.

“What would you like, Geralt?” he asks. “My hand? My mouth?”

“Your cock,” Geralt says, and Jaskier grins.

“Well, if you insist,” he says. Geralt moves back enough to let him get up, and Jaskier picks up his bag and fishes out his cock and harness and oil. Geralt waits, watching him with that same hungry look as before. Jaskier preens underneath it. He sets his supplies on the bed and takes off his pants and shirt before they can get in the way. He leaves his breast band, since this one’s not a bloody mess.

He picks up the harness again and starts to put it on, and Geralt’s eyes flick to it.

“Can I help?” Geralt asks, and oh, Jaskier likes that.

“Of course,” he says, and lets Geralt take over the process of buckling the harness around his hips. He does it rather adeptly, considering he’d apparently never seen one before until very recently. Jaskier supposes that means he was paying very close attention to it, and he likes that too. It’s not something a partner’s done for him before, and it’s very appealing.

“Is that right?” Geralt asks as he fastens the last little buckle, glancing up at his face.

“Perfect,” Jaskier says, a bit blissfully. He picks up his cock and slips it into the harness, and Geralt tugs the straps tight to hold it in place. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Hn.” Geralt glances at his face again, then slips to his knees beside the bed and leans in and licks his cock, dragging the flat of his tongue up its length. Jaskier can’t keep back the wide, wide grin. Oh. Oh, that’s better than perfect.

“You have such excellent ideas, Geralt,” he says approvingly, pushing a hand into the other's hair and tugging out the tie so he can weave his fingers through it properly. Geralt licks his cock again, wrapping his hand around the base of it and his lips around the head. Jaskier delights.

Geralt makes a wonderful show of sucking his cock, swallowing him down greedily and bobbing his head, and Jaskier appreciates it very, very much. His gut burns with lust and his fingers tighten in the other’s hair, just barely clawed. Geralt lets out a muffled groan and swallows him deeper. Jaskier wants to fuck him very, very badly.

He wants this just a tiny bit more, though.

Geralt keeps sucking him off, keeps making a wonderful show of it, and Jaskier pulls his hair and keeps him in close. Geralt practically chokes himself on his cock, urgent and eager, and Jaskier bites his lip to the blood holding himself back from just fucking his face ‘til he does choke.

“Very good,” he praises him in a low, lustful voice, and Geralt shudders in a very gratifying way and clutches at his thighs. Jaskier adores him, simply and easily.

Geralt pulls back, breathing heavily, and Jaskier rubs his cock against his cheek and admires the shine of saliva on it. Geralt exhales roughly, then swallows him down again, almost to the root. Jaskier purrs. He fists his hand in Geralt’s hair and Geralt bobs his head again and sucks tightly.

Just the sight of Geralt with his cock in his mouth really shouldn’t do so much for Jaskier, honestly, but it does a lot.

The part where he’s on his knees for it doesn’t hurt either.

“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier sighs contentedly, free hand stroking Geralt’s jaw. He presses his thumb against the wet corner of the other’s mouth and Geralt gives another muffled groan and digs his fingers into the backs of his thighs. He’s so much stronger than a human, and Jaskier idly wonders if he’ll leave bruises. He’d like that.

Geralt pulls back to catch his breath again, and Jaskier strokes his face adoringly.

“You look gorgeous doing that,” he says.

“Hn,” Geralt says. Jaskier hooks his thumb into the corner of his mouth and Geralt’s eyes flare.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Jaskier murmurs, looking him over for a moment before letting go of him. “Take your clothes off, Geralt.”

Geralt gets to his feet and obeys, revealing that beautiful body and gorgeous cock for him. Jaskier grins widely at him, sure his teeth are too sharp in his mouth just for the way Geralt looks at him in response. He takes a moment debating which way he wants to fuck him, and Geralt shoves him down onto the bed against the headboard and straddles his thighs.

Well, that’ll work.

“I do like that you know what you want,” Jaskier says, still grinning up at him as he reaches for the oil.

“Then damn well hurry up and give it to me,” Geralt says. Jaskier laughs. He slicks up his fingers with the oil and gets right down to business, reaching between the other's thighs to rub the pad of a finger against his hole. Geralt bares his teeth at him.

It's a good look on him, even without fangs.

Jaskier gives him another grin, teasingly rubbing, and Geralt growls impatiently.

"Jaskier," he says.

"Geralt," Jaskier purrs in reply. "My perfect pet."

"Not a pet," Geralt says tersely. Jaskier smiles at him, the silly man, and slips a finger inside him. Geralt bares his teeth again, hair falling in his face. Jaskier curls his finger and rubs, and Geralt growls louder.

"Perfect," Jaskier croons again. "Such a good boy for me."

"Hurry up," Geralt says. "I want your damn cock already."

"Oh, trust me, you're getting it," Jaskier promises as he works in another finger. "I'm going to fuck you 'til you're sick of me."

"You can try," Geralt says.

Jaskier grins. He scissors his fingers inside him, rocks and twists them, and Geralt drops his head forward, panting for breath. Jaskier wants to make him come so many different ways. Just . . . so many.

He presses another finger inside him and GeraIt inhales sharply, rocking his hips down to meet it. Jaskier puts his free hand on his stomach, splaying his fingers across it.

"Oh, you're a gift," he says with a warm sigh. Geralt shifts; shudders. Jaskier admires the sight. "Do you want to come yet?"

"I want your cock," Geralt grits out roughly. Jaskier delights.

"Mm, do you?" he says, scissoring his fingers inside him again. Geralt glowers down at him.

"Yes," he says.

"Ask me nicely," Jaskier prompts.

"Fucking give it to me," Geralt bites off.

"Oh, that wasn't nice at all," Jaskier laughs, rocking his fingers in deeper. Geralt hisses, spreading his thighs wider, and Jaskier purrs. "Now that’s more like it. I'd make you come like this but I'd rather see you take my cock again."

"Then let me fucking have it," Geralt says. Jaskier draws his fingers out of the other and slicks up his cock, and Geralt grabs it and sits down on it. Jaskier watches raptly. Geralt starts fucking himself immediately, and Jaskier licks his teeth as they sharpen in his mouth.

"Lovely," he husks, eyes fixed on the steady flex of Geralt’s thighs and his gorgeous cock and his own cock disappearing inside him again and again. Geralt just rides him harder, bracing his hands on the bed over his shoulders. Jaskier hooks a hand around one of his wrists and squeezes, stroking the other up his side. He loves how eager Geralt is, and he loves the way Geralt touches his body. He especially loves the way Geralt treats his cock, no hesitation to touch it or suck it or take it inside himself. He's had partners who weren't sure what to do with it before, but Geralt very clearly does not have that problem.

It's very nice.

"Are you going to come for me already, Geralt?" he asks tenderly, wrapping a hand around that gorgeous cock and squeezing. "Let me see it."

"Fuck!" Geralt gasps, his eyes flaring. He fucks himself as deep as he can, takes Jaskier’s cock to the root, and Jaskier twists his hand around him and Geralt comes all over it, cursing and moaning.

Oh, he's a lovely sight.

"Geralt," Jaskier sighs, and Geralt leans heavier over him, hair all in his face and body shuddering beautifully as he tries to catch his breath. Jaskier admires the sight of him gladly and greedily, licking his come off his hand.

He's not done with him yet, of course.

He flips them over while Geralt’s still recovering and the other grunts as his back hits the mattress. Jaskier grins at him, knowing damn well it's all fang, and Geralt drags him down to kiss.

Jaskier returns the kiss, of course, and then slides his cock into him again and fucks him. Geralt bites his mouth with a grunt and it takes so much self control not to bite back. Jaskier fucks him harder instead, bracing one hand against the mattress and gripping Geralt’s hip with the other.

"Jaskier—" Geralt hisses, and Jaskier fucks him all the harder.

"Yes, pet?" he asks mildly. Geralt’s too busy cursing to answer him. His cock is mostly soft but still heavy, and Jaskier’s more than sure he can make him come again. He'd probably let a different partner recover, but Geralt . . . no, Geralt he very much wants to overwhelm. "Oh, good boy."

"Jaskier," Geralt groans. "Fuck—Jaskier!"

"My good, good boy," Jaskier croons at him, keeping up the same brutal pace. Geralt grips the heavy wooden headboard. Jaskier digs his fingers into his hip and the mattress, doing his damnedest to keep his claws in. It's . . . not easy.

Geralt gasps for breath, throwing his head back and exposing his throat. The temptation to bite him there is overwhelming. Jaskier manages not to, because Geralt doesn't want bitten where Cirilla can see, but gods is it hard. It is very, very hard.

Geralt trusts him not to, he reminds himself, which makes it a little easier.

He fucks Geralt until the other comes again, comes without his cock even being touched, and he means to let him recover then but "Don't stop," Geralt gasps, and Jaskier cannot imagine the creature who would.

Really. Who would ever?

So Jaskier keeps fucking him in long, slow thrusts, and Geralt makes some truly wonderful noises and Jaskier isn't sure if even a witcher can come again this quick, but on the other hand, he's willing to be patient. He'll do this all night if Geralt will let him.

Yes, that sounds like a good idea.

It does take a little while, but eventually Geralt’s gorgeous dick does rise to the occasion again, and Jaskier wraps a clawed hand around it very, very carefully and lets Geralt fuck up into his grip and down onto his cock. Geralt makes such noises.

It's lovely.

"Perfect," Jaskier purrs, and Geralt gasps for breath, and then he comes again and Jaskier swears watching it is almost as good as coming himself.

Almost.

He pulls out of the other and Geralt moans at the loss, throwing a heavy arm across his eyes as he catches his breath. Jaskier looks at his throat and licks his lips. Geralt really does smell delicious, and he smells even better when he's aroused, and even better than that when he's sated. It's quite the temptation.

Well, so is everything about Geralt.

"You come so prettily for me," Jaskier says with a content sigh, and Geralt moves his arm and puts a hand on his hip.

"How do you want me?" he asks, and Jaskier’s smile is all fang.

"So many ways," he says. "Can I feed from you again?"

"Yes," Geralt says. Jaskier grins widely.

"Then I'm going to ride your face again, too," he says, unfastening his harness to take off. "You were very good at that."

"How are you going to feed like that?" GeraIt asks with a frown. Jaskier gives him an amused look and sets his cock and harness aside.

"I'm a creative man," he says, then turns around and moves up to straddle the other's face.

"Oh," Geralt realizes, putting his hands on his hips. Jaskier grins, leaning down to press a kiss to the crook of Geralt’s thigh, right where he bit him before.

"Good?" he asks mildly, and Geralt pulls him down and drags his tongue between his folds. Jaskier purrs. "Good boy."

Geralt eats him out just as greedily and expertly as he did in the forest, and Jaskier is just as happy to ride his face as he was then. He drags his tongue over the bite from before and Geralt shudders roughly, and really the only thing Jaskier regrets is that his cock isn't still in him.

Actually, come to think . . .

He grabs his cock off the bed and pours more oil on it, then tugs Geralt’s thighs farther apart and pushes it inside him. Geralt makes a strangled noise and his hips jerk. Jaskier is very smug.

He has excellent ideas too, he thinks.

Jaskier kisses Geralt’s bitten-up thigh again and pushes his cock deeper inside him and just holds it there, leaving the other full and squirming. Geralt fucks his tongue into him and digs his nails into his ass, which Jaskier decides to take as approval.

"I should get a cock that'll stay inside you on its own, let you spend the night like that," he muses, rocking his hips eagerly. There's several things on his shopping list now, actually. Geralt deserves at least that much. "Then I could fuck you whenever I wanted, couldn't I. Keep you all slick and open for me."

Geralt groans and curls his tongue inside him. Jaskier grins.

"Yes, I should definitely do that," he says. "I'll let you fuck me like that too, if you're good."

He grinds down against Geralt’s mouth and licks his bite wound again, and Geralt stifles another groan and works a couple of his fingers inside him. Jaskier grinds down harder.

His teeth are sharp as knives, and all he wants is to sink them into Geralt and eat him alive.

So of course he bites him, and Geralt hisses hotly and presses his thigh up into his teeth, which Jaskier appreciates very, very much. He lets the fresh wound bleed into his mouth, sweet as sin, and Geralt, generously and greedily, licks and mouths at and kisses his cunt. Jaskier could come so easily like this, with Geralt’s tongue curling inside him and Geralt’s fingers gripping his ass and Geralt's blood in his mouth.

So he comes, obviously, grinding against Geralt’s mouth and licking his bleeding thigh and holding his cock buried deep inside him. He doesn't fuck him with it; he just wants to keep him full and open.

Geralt doesn't seem to mind.

"Oh, pet," Jaskier pants lustfully, and Geralt slips his fingers into his cunt and sucks his clit until his thighs quake. Jaskier rides his face eagerly, immediately chasing another orgasm. Geralt does a very good job of giving it to him.

Jaskier thinks about letting Geralt fuck him with that gorgeous cock again, which is the least they both deserve, but the idea of getting off his face is just . . . not appealing at all. He rocks his hips down against Geralt’s mouth again and again and Geralt fucks him with his tongue and fingers until Jaskier’s so wet he could drip.

"Good boy," he praises roughly as Geralt pants against his folds and twists his fingers inside him. Jaskier’s toes curl. "Oh, good boy. Make me come again and I'll give you something sweet."

Geralt groans. Jaskier purrs. Geralt fucks his fingers in deeper and licks his clit. Jaskier keeps holding his cock inside the other and Geralt shudders, digging his heels into the bed. Jaskier can barely keep his claws in.

"Geralt," he moans, and GeraIt eats him out even more greedily, even more generously, and Jaskier rocks his hips down and comes, barely biting back a dangerous cry. If they were anywhere else, he'd have shrieked.

Geralt keeps eating him out and Jaskier rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm against his mouth until it's just too much and he has to pull away. Geralt makes a breathless, protesting noise, and Jaskier almost just sits right back down.

"So good for me," he murmurs raspily, running his fingers over the base of his cock where it sits inside Geralt’s body. Geralt stifles a moan. Jaskier wants to leave it in him until the next time he wants to fuck him, although honestly it's already the next time he wants to fuck him.

He doubts he can make Geralt come again anytime soon, after all that, but he's very tempted to try. The other's cock isn't properly hard, but it's heavy and thick and a mouthwatering sight. Jaskier wonders how long it would take to get it back to its most gorgeous. He'd like to know.

"Jaskier," Geralt says, voice rough, and Jaskier kisses his bleeding thigh and then drags his tongue across the wound. He wants to keep Geralt like this for as long as possible. He wants to touch and caress and spoil him.

He definitely wants to spoil him.

Geralt certainly deserves the treat, after all.

Geralt touches his hip, and Jaskier glances back at him. Geralt licks his lips. Jaskier, again, almost sits on his face again. His body is still over-sensitive and tingling, though, and he needs a moment.

He can’t deny, either, how much he’d like to have Geralt’s cock in him again. After all, it’s a very nice cock, and Geralt’s been a very good boy.

“How many times can a witcher go, Geralt?” Jaskier asks musingly, wrapping a hand around the other’s length and squeezing lightly. Geralt hisses. “Oh, don’t be upset. I just want a little ride.”

“I can’t go again,” Geralt grunts. Jaskier sighs, mildly disappointed, and lets go of him. Well, he did wring him out a bit; brought that on himself, really.

“Fair, I suppose,” he says as he finally takes his own cock out of the other—Geralt groans—and then sits up and turns around. He leans down to kiss him, sliding a hand over his bitten-up thigh, and Geralt noises into his mouth, gripping the back of his elbow. Jaskier isn’t done with him, not by a long shot, but he lets the kiss be a lazy and luxurious thing. It’s a delicious feeling.

He brushes his bloody hand over Geralt’s very admirable chest, then ducks his head to lick up the smeared mess it left behind. Geralt grips the back of his head, breathing heavily. Jaskier tugs lightly at his nipples and takes the chance to play with his tits a bit, since why miss such a lovely opportunity.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says, still panting quietly.

“Yes, pet?” Jaskier purrs, flicking one of the other’s nipples.

“I can’t go again,” Geralt repeats, breath hitching slightly.

“Oh, let me have my fun,” Jaskier says, pinching his nipple tightly. Geralt shudders. Jaskier gives it a little twist and earns another hitched breath and a harder shudder. Geralt doesn’t protest again.

Good.

Jaskier puts his mouth all over Geralt’s bloody chest and reaches down to slip a few fingers inside himself while he’s at it. His fingers aren’t quite as big as Geralt’s, but that’s fine for now, and the sweet taste and scent of the other’s blood fills and overfills his senses. Geralt makes a shaky noise and Jaskier resists the urge to bite him again.

Then again, Cirilla wouldn’t be able to see here, would she.

Jaskier grins against Geralt’s skin, teeth pressed in tight, then opens his mouth and lets them sink in as gently as he can, biting into the meat. Geralt chokes, back arching against the bed and chest, delightfully, pushing into his mouth. Jaskier doesn’t know if Geralt likes the pain or just wants him to enjoy this as much as possible, but either option sounds fine to him.

He’d ask, maybe, but that would require stopping what he’s doing. There’s always later, he tells himself, and laps and sucks at Geralt’s bleeding chest. Geralt is still gripping the back of his head. Jaskier fucks himself with his fingers, the sounds they make wet and obscene, and Geralt tightens his grip on him.

“Let me touch you again,” he says, free hand reaching down to Jaskier’s waist and squeezing it. It’s a very big hand, Jaskier is reminded.

“In a minute, darling,” he promises, twisting his own fingers with a low, pleased sound. Fresh blood wells up on Geralt’s chest and he laps it up. He’s fed from so many lovers over the years, but Geralt is definitely one of the best he’s ever had. He just tastes so sweet, and he responds in such perfect ways.

And he’s such a good pet, for being such a terrible one.

Jaskier finger-fucks himself to orgasm, fanged mouth still buried tight in Geralt’s chest, and Geralt holds onto him through it. He feels hot and riled up and like eating the other alive, but he has some basic restraint, at least. He’d praise and croon at him, but his blood is too sweet in his mouth to allow for the interruption.

“Jaskier,” Geralt manages roughly, his hair a mess and face all flushed. He looks like he’s the one who just came, Jaskier thinks as he licks his fingers clean languidly. Geralt watches with bright, intent eyes, and Jaskier’s mouth curves into a smug smile under the attention.

What a good boy.

“So good for me,” Jaskier purrs, skimming a clawed hand up Geralt’s stomach, which jumps under the contact. There’s still blood on his chest and thigh, and the sight of it makes Jaskier feel sharp and alive. “I promised you something sweet, didn’t I?”

“Hn,” Geralt says.

“I did,” Jaskier confirms for himself, stroking across Geralt’s chest and rubbing the pad of a thumb around one of his nipples. “Mmm, but what do you deserve, Geralt? I’ve already fucked you so well today.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt says. Jaskier smooths a hand over his chest.

“Geralt,” he hums, squeezing his thighs together as he glances down at the other’s cock. It’s still mostly soft.

But only mostly.

Hmmm.

“Are you holding out on me, Geralt?” he asks mildly, wrapping a loose hand around the other’s cock again. Geralt hisses. “Mm?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt repeats, voice strangled.

“Yes, that’s me,” Jaskier says, squeezing his cock. “You wouldn’t hold out on me. You’re such a good pet, after all.”

“Not a pet,” Geralt grits out, his cock twitching meaningfully in Jaskier’s grip, and Jaskier smiles again.

“Always so stubborn,” he says fondly, and then just to feel his cock twitch again . . . “Pet.”

It works. Jaskier’s smile widens, and Geralt shudders. If Geralt isn’t quite ready to admit it out loud, that’s fine. His body knows it well enough.

And Geralt knows he belongs to him, one way or the other.

“Something sweet,” Jaskier says, voice idly musing. He strokes Geralt’s cock, and it responds to the treatment. “Oh, but you’re so sweet yourself, how am I to decide what a worthy treat would be?”

“Just fucking do something, Jaskier,” Geralt manages, panting harder. Jaskier laughs.

“I want to suck your cock someday, but I don’t think I have the self-control yet,” he says. “You make my teeth come out.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt says, his dick twitching eagerly again. Jaskier licks his lips. He really would love to suck it, but he wasn’t exaggerating about his self-control either.

“Just lay back, darling,” he says coaxingly. “I’ll take care of you.”

Geralt groans, but forces his body to lay back against the bed, muscles still strung tight. Jaskier straddles his thighs and strokes his cock a little faster. Geralt grits his teeth. Jaskier wants to bite him again, but holds himself back. He doesn’t want to overindulge and hurt him.

“Relax,” he says in the same coaxing tone. Geralt doesn’t, really, but at least doesn’t tense any more than he already has. For Geralt, that’s good. “I’m going to fuck you so good, darling.”

“Jask—” Geralt starts, and then cuts himself off mid-word as Jaskier guides his cock inside himself. Geralt knocks his head back and grabs his hips, fingers digging in roughly. There’s no claws to prick his skin, but the strength and pressure are impressive.

Jaskier hopes they bruise him.

“There you are,” he croons down at the other, working his hips down to take in as much of him as he can, at least to start. Geralt really is a big one.

Geralt holds himself back, trembling in place, and Jaskier rocks his hips until the other starts moaning, but doesn’t go any faster than that. He intends to take his time with him this round.

He grips Geralt’s wrists and takes his hands off him to pin to the bed. Geralt doesn’t resist at all.

“So good for me,” Jaskier says, feeling warm and overwhelmed and delicious. “Such a sweet boy. Such a perfect pet.”

“Fuck me,” Geralt says, eyes flashing, and Jaskier lets out a breathless laugh

“Perfect,” he repeats. “You’re so good, Geralt. You make me want to keep you at the foot of my bed until I die.”

“Fuck,” Geralt says, short and harsh. Jaskier smiles down at him.

“I’m going to keep you,” he says. “You’re mine.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt says. Jaskier smiles again and rocks his hips down harder. Geralt chokes, his fingers curling in on themselves. Jaskier squeezes his wrists.

“Do you like this, Geralt?” he asks tenderly. “How does it feel?”

“It’s good,” Geralt manages, panting for breath again. “Feels good.”

“Oh?” Jaskier says, feeling warm all the way to his core.

“Please,” Geralt says, wrists tensing, and Jaskier just feels that warmth in his core increase. He feels like he could come without even trying; he feels like he never wants to come at all because that would mean stopping.

Well, it doesn’t have to mean it immediately, of course.

Jaskier rolls his hips. Geralt groans. He works himself up and down the other’s cock, bracing his hands against his wrists, and Geralt keeps struggling to breathe, lifting his hips into his. Jaskier adores him.

“So good,” he purrs, dropping a kiss against the other’s forehead. Geralt tilts his head and tries to catch his mouth with his own, and for obvious reasons Jaskier lets him. The kiss is hungry and urgent and so, so perfect, and Jaskier basks in it. He fucks himself ‘til he’s as full of Geralt as he can get, and Geralt chokes as he tightens his body around him.

Jaskier loves the sounds he makes.

He could make him come, but he doesn’t want to yet. He rides Geralt a little bit harder, though, squeezing his wrists, and Geralt rocks up to meet him with a low, breathless curse.

So good,” Jaskier praises. Geralt’s face twists near-painfully and his wrists tense again. Jaskier kisses him and earns a rough shudder for it. “Ask me again.”

“Please,” Geralt grits out, and Jaskier grins with all his teeth in it. He lets go of the other’s wrists and leans back, and Geralt immediately puts his fingers on his clit.

Such a good, good boy he is.

Jaskier rocks his hips faster and harder—just a little bit faster and harder than a human could, but definitely that little bit more—and Geralt starts cursing again. Jaskier grins down at him, body aching with pleasure, and comes so, so easily. Geralt’s hips jerk up into his erratically and Jaskier puts his hands on his stomach and pins him down. Geralt chokes again.

“Stay,” Jaskier murmurs, heated and sticky-sweet, and Geralt’s body flexes underneath his. He stays still, though, and Jaskier’s grin widens. It feels so good—Geralt’s cock in him, and Geralt listening to him.

He loves it.

“So you're not the best judge of how often you can go, are you,” he observes mildly, and Geralt bares his teeth at him. Jaskier laughs. Oh, he’s lovely. Always lovely.

Witchers are clearly built of more resilient stuff than humans, and Jaskier is going to take full advantage of that fact.

“Just one more round,” he says, rolling his hips meaningfully. Geralt curses.

“Jaskier,” he bites off roughly, digging his fingers into his thighs. Again, Jaskier hopes for bruises.

“Geralt,” he croons back at him, and then he starts to move again. Faster than a human, and harder than a human, and so, so much greedier than a human, because of course. Why be anything less than he is, with Geralt?

He’s done that for far too long.

Geralt groans. The bed creaks. Jaskier purrs. Geralt’s cock fills him up again and again, absolutely perfect every time, and Geralt stays just as still as he told him to. The combination is a heady thing, and Jaskier is going to enjoy every moment of it.

Geralt’s nails dig into his thighs, and Jaskier covers the backs of the other’s hands with his own. Geralt’s nails aren’t nearly as sharp as his claws, but he loves the way they bite into his skin. It’s a sweet and subtle little pain; a little piece of proof that Geralt wants to be touching him just as badly as Jaskier wants to touch him.

Jaskier’s going to enjoy every moment of that, too.

“Get me off,” he says breathlessly, tugging one of the other’s hands away from his thigh. Geralt immediately goes for his clit again, and Jaskier appreciates the single-mindedness. Geralt rubs his clit with the pad of his thumb and Jaskier shudders harshly, barely keeping his claws in.

Geralt wears gloves. He could bite one of his wrists, and Cirilla wouldn’t see it.

Oh, that’s a lovely thought.

Jaskier pulls Geralt’s other hand to his mouth and drags his tongue across his pulse, and it picks up deliciously. He looks down at Geralt and Geralt looks back up at him, his eyes flaring sharply and fingers curling against his cheek.

Perfect, Jaskier thinks, and sinks his teeth in. Geralt exhales roughly, a hard shudder going down his arm, and Jaskier licks up the blood before it can drip too far after it.

Geralt is, as ever, delicious.

“Move,” Jaskier says, low and raspy, and Geralt’s hips stutter up into his. And then Geralt takes the word “move” to its extreme and lunges up to flip them over and crush Jaskier into the mattress. Jaskier doesn’t even think of stopping him.

Geralt pins him to the bed and fucks him. Jaskier barely bites back the instinctive shriek of pleasure that would probably bring the roof down on their heads. Geralt kisses him and he moans into his mouth, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around the other’s body. Geralt fucks him harder, harder, harder, and makes it very easy to come. Jaskier has to cover his mouth with a hand to keep from either biting him or wailing. Geralt kisses the back of it.

Jaskier comes, and Geralt fucks him through it and keeps fucking him, dragging his orgasm out wonderfully and perfectly and just right. Jaskier nearly bites through his hand.

He tightens his body around the other’s cock, thighs squeezing his sides, and Geralt groans, hips stuttering erratically again. He comes inside him, hot and messy and so good, and Jaskier lets out a heated little keen that shakes the bed. Geralt buries his face in his neck and bites down, and Jaskier nearly comes all over again.

“Oh, oh,” he gasps rapturously, fisting a hand in the other’s hair and holding him close. Geralt mouths at his throat, teeth dragging against his skin and cock softening inside him and slipping out. “Oh, you’re wonderful, you’re so good for me.”

“Hn,” Geralt says, then bites down again. Jaskier whines, free hand clawing at his back. He cuts Geralt a bit, he thinks, but the scent of fresh blood just makes him feel wilder. Geralt circles his fingers around his clit and he has to bite back another cry. Geralt bites his shoulder and rubs his clit, and Jaskier throws his back back and shakes violently and then does come again, slow and drawn-out and sublime.

Geralt is so, so good.

They stay tangled up as they both recover, both breathing harshly with their bodies heavy against the mattress. Jaskier feels dizzy and weak and like he could fall off the bed altogether if Geralt weren’t weighing him down. He’d say something, but he still can’t quite catch his breath.

Geralt kisses him, which is a better use of their mouths anyway.

“That was so good, pet,” he rasps finally, stroking a hand through the other’s hair. Geralt leans into the contact.

“Not a pet,” he says despite that, his own voice just as raspy.

“Ah, but still mine,” Jaskier hums, pressing a kiss to his temple. That Geralt doesn’t protest, and he smiles widely against the other’s skin. Their bodies are sticky with blood and sweat and come, but he never wants to move again. He wants to keep Geralt right here and tell him just how perfect he is and bite him every place the other will let him and never, ever go anywhere or do anything else.

Eventually they’ll have to move, of course, but for the moment . . . no, definitely not for the moment.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says. Jaskier’s smile widens even further. He loves the way Geralt says his name, even when that’s all he says. Maybe even especially.

“Mm, yes, dear?” he asks, winding his arms around the other’s neck and kissing him again. Geralt kisses him back instead of responding.

Jaskier doesn’t mind at all.