This is definitely the good kind of caging Jaskier has been hoping for! A cute little gasp escapes his lips when he's pinned against the door, his scent quickly filling with lust. And when Geralt leans in to sniff, well, Jaskier doesn't hesitate: his hands immediately move to the witcher's hair and neck, and a leg positions itself between Geralt's.
You smell so fucking good. Such a simple compliment, yet it shakes Jaskier to his core. He's always been a slut for praise, had a boner for pretty words. However, this is extremely different from the usual flirting he gets from other people - it's not about the way he dresses, or the perfumes he uses, or the way he spins his words, which are all things he creates. And he's proud of them, don't take him wrong. But Geralt's words go beyond that, they dig deeper, praising Jaskier for his natural scent, for who he simply is.
It makes both his heart flutter and his blood travel south.
"And it's all for you, my wolf." He's keeping that nickname, he decides, especially when Geralt is acting like a puppy, being all cute with his nose buried in Jaskier's throat.
The comment about his doublet makes him laugh, it also adds a new layer of spice to his scent - someone likes the idea. Jaskier gives Geralt's hair a playful tug before reluctantly moving his hands away to take off his lute and leave it gentle against the door before starting to undress.
"As alluring as having you ripping my clothes off sounds, I'm rather fond of this doublet." He teases as he takes it off and drops it on top of the basket by the door. It doesn't need washing, but he isn't going to drop his fine silks on the floor! "But I wouldn't mind revisiting this idea later on. I could buy a couple of chemises exclusively for you to have fun with."
Jaskier doesn't stop at the doublet - speaking of chemises, he takes that off too, exposing his hairy (and now flushed) chest. His boots soon follow, he imagines Geralt will find those frustrating as well.
"Where were we?" It's the last thing he says before making their mouths crash against each other in a messy but very passionate kiss, his fingers sneaking under Geralt's shirt to claw at his back and pull him as close as possible.
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You smell so fucking good. Such a simple compliment, yet it shakes Jaskier to his core. He's always been a slut for praise, had a boner for pretty words. However, this is extremely different from the usual flirting he gets from other people - it's not about the way he dresses, or the perfumes he uses, or the way he spins his words, which are all things he creates. And he's proud of them, don't take him wrong. But Geralt's words go beyond that, they dig deeper, praising Jaskier for his natural scent, for who he simply is.
It makes both his heart flutter and his blood travel south.
"And it's all for you, my wolf." He's keeping that nickname, he decides, especially when Geralt is acting like a puppy, being all cute with his nose buried in Jaskier's throat.
The comment about his doublet makes him laugh, it also adds a new layer of spice to his scent - someone likes the idea. Jaskier gives Geralt's hair a playful tug before reluctantly moving his hands away to take off his lute and leave it gentle against the door before starting to undress.
"As alluring as having you ripping my clothes off sounds, I'm rather fond of this doublet." He teases as he takes it off and drops it on top of the basket by the door. It doesn't need washing, but he isn't going to drop his fine silks on the floor! "But I wouldn't mind revisiting this idea later on. I could buy a couple of chemises exclusively for you to have fun with."
Jaskier doesn't stop at the doublet - speaking of chemises, he takes that off too, exposing his hairy (and now flushed) chest. His boots soon follow, he imagines Geralt will find those frustrating as well.
"Where were we?" It's the last thing he says before making their mouths crash against each other in a messy but very passionate kiss, his fingers sneaking under Geralt's shirt to claw at his back and pull him as close as possible.