[Jaskier tosses his head back with a laugh.] Called it.
[Not even ready for a challenge, is he? He. Oh. Oh, all right. He was in that sort of mood -- a mood, granted, that seemed to come them rather eagerly when they found themselves in this certain position.
His head throws back for different reasons, his groan deeper, more heated.] Fuck's sake, Geralt. I see we're in a mood tonight.
[Whether it's the wine, or the tree itself, or that -- well, whatever manner of things is on Geralt's mind (it's Yennefer, of course; it always is), Jaskier truly doesn't care. All that undivided attention's on him now. His hands find fistfuls of Geralt's hair, not holding him down as much as encouraging him with a pull, until the heat of lips makes his toes curl.
Yeah, he's not quiet. He doesn't need to be. Everything here is his except the man between his legs, and that's. What he needs.] Love your moods. [He licks his lips, releasing a hot breath.] Could use more of them, really.
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[Not even ready for a challenge, is he? He. Oh. Oh, all right. He was in that sort of mood -- a mood, granted, that seemed to come them rather eagerly when they found themselves in this certain position.
His head throws back for different reasons, his groan deeper, more heated.] Fuck's sake, Geralt. I see we're in a mood tonight.
[Whether it's the wine, or the tree itself, or that -- well, whatever manner of things is on Geralt's mind (it's Yennefer, of course; it always is), Jaskier truly doesn't care. All that undivided attention's on him now. His hands find fistfuls of Geralt's hair, not holding him down as much as encouraging him with a pull, until the heat of lips makes his toes curl.
Yeah, he's not quiet. He doesn't need to be. Everything here is his except the man between his legs, and that's. What he needs.] Love your moods. [He licks his lips, releasing a hot breath.] Could use more of them, really.