His laugh was infuriating and Nina slid one of her legs over Geralt's shoulder like she had every intention of hooking his head closer if he didn't do it himself.

But saints, he did. Nina's head dropped back with a soft, sharp gasp at the first touch of his tongue. Oh it had been ages, and Geralt knew what he was doing. Her fingers stayed tight in her hair and the other hand grabbed at the blanket beneath her.

"Don't stop," she moaned, like she was legitimately concerned that he might. Nina moved her hips, nearly matching the rhythm of his tongue, seeking more, more. "Tak, os tak."