Silver Tongue - The Witcher | Geralt of Rivia

XVII

!NSFW!

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Her insides twisted in pleasure as she drew another gasp and release from the woman lying in front of her. Thighs tried to close around Myrcella's head as she teasingly kissed the soft skin, just above the little bundle of nerves she'd been torturing, before she moved her head away.
There was a symphony of satisfied sighs and intoxicated moans around the mud-blood princess as she weaved through the crowd, now observing and no longer participating, but still bathing in the bliss of the scene before her.

"Myrcella." The enchantress called out to her with that honey laced voice she'd grown to cherish so much.
"Yes my love?" Myrcella answered her in a sultry voice, holding eye contact as she wiped the corner of her mouth and licked the finger clean from any leftovers of the woman she'd just had.

"We have guests." The enchantress told her with a coy look. Myrcella smirked. "More guests, you mean?" She replied amused, breathing in the lust-filled air. Her eyes turned bright golden and her succubus patterns slowly wrapped themselves around her body like vines, as her hunger returned for another round.

It was safe to say Yennefer had gotten what she wanted and had gotten Myrcella to let go a bit and tap into what was essentially her true nature.

-

Geralt sighed as he picked up the pitcher of apple-juice and the bard, before following the fog covering the floor in the hallway.
Upon entering the room, he squinted his eyes against the the light, and when they finally adjusted, he scoffed at the scene before him.

Without as much as acknowledging the orgy the Witcher walked in halfway before dropping Jaskier on some pillows on the floor, the ladies around him quickly gathering.

The enchantress basked in the air of her love-fest, purple eyes not paying the Witcher any real attention until he spoke up.

"I, uh.. brought you apple juice." He stated awkwardly as he held out the full pitcher. The enchantress looked him up and down hungrily. "And quite a bit more. You're immune." She noted, realising her spell did not affect him in the slightest.

"You must be the mage." Geralt said as he walked a bit closer, handing her the drink. "Yennefer of Vengerberg." Yennefer answered him, confirming her identity rather proudly.

"Hm. Chireadan didn't mention that, uh.." Geralt started but got caught on his own words, as he too looked her over once.. twice. The elven boy directing him and Jaskier here had certainly left out a couple details when telling him about the mage.

"What did he fail to mention?" Yennefer asked amused as the Witcher clearly forgot what he was saying as he drank in her appearance. Geralt shook his head, as if trying to shake off her spell, "We need your help." He went straight to the point.

"We?" Yennefer asked intrigued, not immediately spotting any companion.

A wheeze from the bard had her smiling amused. "Just a friend, I hope?" She joked her eyes flicking between the Witcher and the bard humoured. The Witcher didn't answer her. "-Your heartbeat, it's extraordinarily slow. You're.. a mutant." The enchantress deducted as she studied him.

Geralt huffed, "A witcher. Geralt of Rivia." He introduced himself. Yennefer's face lit up in recognition when he said his name. "The famous White Wolf! I thought you'd have fangs or horns or something." She mused.