To Be of Service
"Yen?"
"Yes, Geralt?"
"May I touch you?" Geralt shifts on his knees. He looks up at Yen sitting at her desk, just in time to catch her smile, there and gone. It's replaced with a frown and his heart sinks.
"Geralt. What did I tell you to do?" Her quill is hovering over the page, all her attention on him. Just not in the way he wants.
"To wait until you are done."
"Exactly. Now, be good for me." She turns away, leaving Geralt to wonder if he has earned himself punishment, beyond being made to kneel naked at her feet. Nothing he can do about it if he did, except kneel here and wait. Hands on this thighs, he bows his head in a show of obedience and submission.
It does not go unnoticed. Yen's quill keeps wandering over the paper unhurriedly, but she reaches out with her free hand to pet him. She idly plays with his ponytail, letting it slip between her fingers, and Geralt leans into her touch with a sigh.
When she trails her fingers down the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades, he shudders, drawing in a sharp breath. And there's Yen's smile again. This time, it stays. Geralt is torn between admiring it or following the path of her hand up her own thigh. Fabric rustles as she pulls up her skirt, revealing creamy white skin to his gaze. She is not wearing anything under her skirt.
Yen slips her hand between her legs, and her fingers come away wet. She holds them out to him, and Geralt licks them clean. Her scent is irresistible to him and he lets out a quiet moan, wishing for more.
All of Yen's attention is on her writing still. All of Geralt's attention is on her parted legs and on her hand moving lazily between them.
"Come here. Use your mouth, not your hands." Yen points at a spot under the table. There's no need to spell out what she wants, or to tell him that he isn't to touch himself either. Crawling forward, Geralt finds a place for himself between Yen's legs, leaning in to lick at her cunt. The head of his cock brushes against his belly, making him shiver with need.
Yen's hand comes down on Geralt's head, playing with his hair. From above, the sound of the quill gliding across the paper starts up once more.
Geralt listens to it, and to the sound of Yen's breathing as it grows deeper, sometimes interrupted by a sigh. Mindful of Yen's words, he keeps his hands behind his back. He has to work at being able to lick her properly, leaning forward and pushing his face between her spread thighs. Her scent is overwhelming, musky and saline. It's in his nose and on his tongue, and he swallows it down.
Sucking hard on her clit, Geralt is rewarded with the sound of the quill pausing and Yen's fingers tightening in his hair. She rolls her hips forward, holding him in place as she grinds against him in search of more pleasure. She is quiet when she finds it, only a few shuddering breaths and the quiver of her thighs show it. It's so quiet that Geralt can't help but think about other people being in the room. People who have no idea he's there, his tongue slowly circling Yen's clit.
He keeps at it, gently licking and teasing the last of her pleasure out of her until Yen moves back in her chair. It scrapes over the floor as she stands, and Geralt loses sight of her. But it's easy to track her in the room by her footsteps, and he stays where he is. After all, she hasn't told him to move. Clothes rustle, a drawer opens and closes, metal buckles jingle and leather creaks.
"Come here. Bend over the table." Yen's voice tells him nothing about what to expect, whether speaking out of turn has earned him punishment after all. When he stands, he's treated to the sight of Yen in unconcerned nakedness. A lingering blush tints her skin a lovely pink, and her hair falls open over her shoulders, not quite hiding her breasts.
It's a sight he wouldn't mind enjoying a little longer, but he does as he's told. The table is cold, sending a shiver through him. It grows into a shudder when Yen runs her finger down his spine.
"Very good." Her hand slips between his legs and Geralt spreads them wider. For a few blissful moments, she strokes him, her other hand hefting his balls. Geralt's pulse speeds up, his cock pulsing with it.
And then he's left with his arousal almost at his peak. Yen simply abandons him and walks away. The sound Geralt makes it not quite a whine.
"Don't move." Yen's voice comes from the direction of the bed behind Geralt, and there's the tinkle of metal again.
Geralt breathes deep. He closes his eyes and waits, his cock hanging heavily between his legs. If only she would touch him again. When she does, she ignores his cock. Her fingers tease at his hole, slick with oil. Still, it sends a spike of pleasure through Geralt, making him moan.
"Reach back and hold yourself open for me. I do only have so many hands."
He grabs his ass cheeks and and pulls them apart, revealing himself to her gaze. His hole clenches under her touch, and she pushes in with one finger. It leaves Geralt panting, lust coiled tightly in his belly.
The scent of sex swirls around him, heavy in the air. Beneath it are others: wood, lilac and gooseberry, olives and leather. Geralt tries to turn his head to get a glimpse at Yen but she clicks her tongue at him: "Don't squirm."
Drawing in air through his nose, Geralt tries to let go of the tension. As much as he can, with Yen's finger in his ass. She leaves him empty for a moment. The next thing pressing against his rim is something much thicker. He moves back into it, and it opens him up in a long slow slide, smooth and cool.
Yen crowds into him, her hips pressed to his ass, before moving back and the dildo moves with her. Both her hands are on his hips, so it must sit in a harness and now Geralt really wants to turn around to see.
"Hands on your back." Yen's voice isn't quite steady, but Geralt immediately obeys it anyway. He holds his own wrist, shackling himself for her.
When she withdraws, the dildo slides almost all the way out of him until only the tip holds him open, hard and unforgiving. His rim clenches around it and Yen traces it with one finger, making Geralt gasp.
Agonisingly slow, Yen pushes in again. This time, she angles the dildo so it rolls across Geralt's prostate, pressing down hard. He cries out, and cries out again when she takes him in hand, his hips thrusting forward on their own accord. Yen follows, fucking him at a pace that leaves him breathless and his cock dripping in her hand.
Geralt's orgasm rushes at him, shaking his body and muffling all sounds except for the beating of his own heart. The table keeps him on his feet and he's free to allow his body to go limp, drifting along in the slowing current. Yen buries the dildo inside of him one last time, stripping his cock in fast strokes until Geralt cannot bear it any longer.
"Please, enough! Please—" Geralt can barely hear himself, and the words stick to his tongue like molasses. He shudders when she pulls out and steps back, her gaze prickling on his skin. On a whim, he reaches back and pulls his ass cheeks apart again, showing himself off.
"Don't get greedy." Yen's voice is amused, and she touches him, sliding two fingers into his hole just for a moment. It sends another shiver through Geralt, and all of a sudden he is done. Sated and exhausted, he struggles to push himself up and find his feet. Yen is right there, stepping close for a lingering kiss.
Pressing his forehead to hers, Geralt glances down. The harness she is wearing is elegant dark leather and silvery clasps, the dildo jutting out from between her thighs clear blue glass with golden flecks in it.
"It looks good on you." Geralt smiles and kisses Yen again. "And it felt amazing in my ass. Thank you."
"You've been good for me, I thought that deserved a reward." She wraps her arms around his neck, her pupils still wide and black with arousal, the blush only slowly draining from her cheeks. Her heart is slow to find back to its normal pace, and Geralt holds her while they catch their breath. Kneeling down once more, he unbuckles the harness, and he takes the opportunity to caress and kiss her thighs and belly until she steps back and offers her hand to him.
"Go on, heat up the water in the tub and I'll get us something to drink." Sending him on his way with a smack to the ass, Yen doesn't take long to following him behind the folding screen hiding the tub. She's holding a bottle with a clear liquid and no label. "Regis sent this. It smells of pears, mostly."
Geralt swirls his hand in the water one last time, signing Igni. The water is wonderfully hot and they both sink into it up to their necks, groaning in satisfaction. They share the pear scumble in tiny glasses, clinking them against each other. Yen gasps for breath but immediately takes another sip, and even Geralt can feel it clouding his mind and reflexes.
Right now, he doesn't care. All he needs to do is sit here, hold Yen in his arms and kiss her. And he can do that just fine.