The White Werewolf || Season One: Ties That Bind

Chapter Thirty-One

Roggeven, 1242

Geralt finished his last bite, squinting as he saw a large rat in the corner of the inn. Before it could scurry away, he threw his fork at it, spearing it in the neck and killing it instantly.

Robin and Jaskier both raised their eyebrows disapprovingly.

"Can you behave when you're in public?" Jaskier scolded him.

Geralt shrugged. "That's rarely something I concern myself with," he replied.

"I realize that this whole surly thing works for you," Jaskier said as he stood, waving a hand in Geralt's face, "but when people are grossed out by who I associate with, it's hard for me to make money."

"We do well enough between the three of us," Geralt defended himself.

"Fine, but it also makes it difficult for me to find someone to spend the evening with," Jaskier hissed.

"And we come to the point," Geralt laughed, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the bard.

"Whatever the reason, it is rather tasteless," Robin observed, coming over to sit in his lap.

"Then shall we go to our room and be tasteless in private?" Geralt teased, pulling her closer to him and tipping his head back for a kiss.

She gave it to him as Jaskier pulled out his lute and began to play for the guests. "I would like that very much," she agreed.

She shrieked and giggled as Geralt stood and slung her over his shoulder, then mounted the stairs to their room. Before he opened the door, he spanked her ass hard, pleased when he heard her moan loudly as her thighs clenched against his chest.

He set her on her feet as he made it inside, shutting the door behind him. She was already moving toward the bed, her dark hair hanging down her back.

He growled and reached out, grabbing her belt and hair and turning her to him, tugging at the nape of her neck to make her tip her head back this time.

She moaned again, but the sound was muffled as he began devouring her mouth.

They only stayed at inns in towns where he thought it wouldn't cause a problem, and when they had the money. It was nice to have some real privacy with her like this, instead of the minimal privacy they had to create through quick liaisons against trees, during bathing, or in whatever meadow they could find near camp.

He wasn't brazen enough to take her while her brother was sharing their camp. Even he had limits, no matter how much he wanted her sometimes.

She clung to him, her breasts straining against the neckline of her gown. Several men had been eyeing her cleavage downstairs, though they'd quickly given up when they'd noticed the intimidating witcher glaring at them.

She appreciated that his presence kept other men away from her. And she greatly enjoyed his jealousy, though it was a topic that they'd never discussed since it had come up when they'd first encountered Jaskier in Posada.

It was enough that she was his. For now, anyway. They would never be more than this, but she had made her peace with that. It far exceeded what many people got, she reasoned.

Geralt lifted her onto the bed, then blew out all the candles in the room so it was just barely lit by their low fire.

"I can hardly see, Geralt," Robin murmured.

"But I can see you perfectly," he countered, staring hungrily at her curves beneath her clothes, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness.

She reached out, finding his thighs and sliding her hands towards his crotch. He groaned as her fingers found the outline of his cock in his pants, then searched for his buttons so she could start popping them open.