Geralt gave a groan of frustration when she teased him. No doubt, he deserved it, for doing the same to her earlier.

Her hand moved over his cock, her wrist changing the stroke here and there, reacting to whatever it is that Nina could feel from him, his heart-beat, his breathing.

"Little more," he whispered. His thighs began to shake. It was better, it always was, when it was someone else's hand.