[He has words, and they eventually devolve into only noises, but none of them are complaints. At first he only lays back and enjoys the strokes of his tongue, the way it drags up his cock and send shivers up his back.]
Oh, fuck.
[He pulls. His hair. A fistful of it, soft and utterly familiar in its texture. Jaskier's legs close around him on either side, wound tight.
He lifts his head eventually to watch. Of course he has to. Has to see a glimpse of the Witcher's lips around him, a pretty pink like a petal. The way his hair falls ragged across his face, brushing Jaskier's thighs.
Jaskier tugs his hair with a gentle jerk when he's close. He wants to come to a glimpse of the Witcher's eyes -- and it isn't a whim he can think to voice.
Geralt's eye flash up and that's it. Perfect. He comes with a groan, head falling back onto a pillow.
Brilliant. But he knows better. It's not like Geralt to only have a quick fuck.]
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Oh, fuck.
[He pulls. His hair. A fistful of it, soft and utterly familiar in its texture. Jaskier's legs close around him on either side, wound tight.
He lifts his head eventually to watch. Of course he has to. Has to see a glimpse of the Witcher's lips around him, a pretty pink like a petal. The way his hair falls ragged across his face, brushing Jaskier's thighs.
Jaskier tugs his hair with a gentle jerk when he's close. He wants to come to a glimpse of the Witcher's eyes -- and it isn't a whim he can think to voice.
Geralt's eye flash up and that's it. Perfect. He comes with a groan, head falling back onto a pillow.
Brilliant. But he knows better. It's not like Geralt to only have a quick fuck.]