"You smell gorgeous this way." He mumbled against her mouth, face flushed pink from arousal, eyes swamped with black. He kissed her back, messy, feeling her lips against his, against his beard. Geralt let out a very long, low growl.

He shifted to straddle one of Nina's bare thighs, pressing down against her, rough and hungry for contact, his cock hard and trapped between his legs. It wasn't a terrible sensation, arousing in its own right, all sweet torture and ache.

Geralt gripped one of the quilts beneath them with his hand, hard enough that his pale knuckles turned a pure white even under firelight. His nails, what had become claws, ripped into the layered fabric. He was alright with the sacrifice of a blanket or two. He'd managed to be gentle with Nina.