Jaskier laughs when Geralt picks him and throws him, a tent already forming in his pants, the scent of arousal taking over. They've slept on this bed already, and Jaskier hadn't thought much of it - twenty years of traveling together means they've fallen asleep in thousands of different places, one stops noticing after a while. It's downing on him now though, feeling the fur tickle the back of his head, this is Geralt's bed. Geralt, the White Wolf, mighty witcher, is going to fuck him. On his bed. Who nobody else has ever gotten to share, not like this at least.
His blood may be traveling south pretty quickly, but his ego is hitting the fucking roof. And Geralt wanted him to believed he was only capable of 'echos' while bringing him to his most intimate, private space? Hah.
As soon as Geralt's hands touch his legs, Jaskier is opening them himself in a silent invitation, lips being licked at the sight of Geralt climbing on top of him... which causes him to accidentally bite his tongue when he whimpers as his doublet is ripped as easily as it had been paper.
He'll spend the whole day tomorrow searching for those buttons.
Worth it.
"Fuck." It's deep, heartfelt, somehow managing to pronounce every letter naughtily. "I love how strong you are." Jaskier's fully hard now, and his hips thrust up when Geralt descends on him to mark his neck. "Do I look better on your bed as well, my wolf?" He asks as deft fingers start working on the buttons of Geralt's pants. "Do I--ah, yes, mmh, keep doing that-- do I smell of you yet? I want to, so badly-- mmh, fuck-- I want every single witcher in this keep to smell what you've done to me as soon as I leave this room."
Buttons undone, Jaskier slips a hand inside, starting to stroke Geralt's bulge through his small clothes. Usually he wouldn't jump so soon on it, but he remembers the little witcher biology lesson Geralt gave him in the cabin, so he wants to help. Besides, after having to wait for so long, he's simply dying to hold such a powerful cock in his hand and have his way with it all night long.
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His blood may be traveling south pretty quickly, but his ego is hitting the fucking roof. And Geralt wanted him to believed he was only capable of 'echos' while bringing him to his most intimate, private space? Hah.
As soon as Geralt's hands touch his legs, Jaskier is opening them himself in a silent invitation, lips being licked at the sight of Geralt climbing on top of him... which causes him to accidentally bite his tongue when he whimpers as his doublet is ripped as easily as it had been paper.
He'll spend the whole day tomorrow searching for those buttons.
Worth it.
"Fuck." It's deep, heartfelt, somehow managing to pronounce every letter naughtily. "I love how strong you are." Jaskier's fully hard now, and his hips thrust up when Geralt descends on him to mark his neck. "Do I look better on your bed as well, my wolf?" He asks as deft fingers start working on the buttons of Geralt's pants. "Do I--ah, yes, mmh, keep doing that-- do I smell of you yet? I want to, so badly-- mmh, fuck-- I want every single witcher in this keep to smell what you've done to me as soon as I leave this room."
Buttons undone, Jaskier slips a hand inside, starting to stroke Geralt's bulge through his small clothes. Usually he wouldn't jump so soon on it, but he remembers the little witcher biology lesson Geralt gave him in the cabin, so he wants to help. Besides, after having to wait for so long, he's simply dying to hold such a powerful cock in his hand and have his way with it all night long.