Biter - Alexa McGlothlin - Wattpad

Story cover for Biter by ArrowsNAtlases

Biter

Reads 727
Votes 18
Parts 4
Time 37m

Reads 727
Votes 18
Parts 4
Time 37m

Mature

When Geralt of Rivia comes to the small village of Celborne, Kassandra, the innkeeper's daughter, finds more on her mind than the monsters outside her door. 

Mature readers only: 18+ 
Graphic sexual content and mature language


 __


The white wolf of Rivia, the bard was trying to rename him. He certainly looked like a wolf as his stalked towards me; white hair disheveled and a wild, hungry look in his eyes. Like he'd been starving for days, and I was to be his next meal, and my body tensed. Not from fear, but anticipation. I wanted him to devour me. 


His body shadowed mine, pushing me back against the mattress. A chaste kiss landed on my lips before his mouth moved like a brand down my jaw and neck to my chest, leaving a burning trail in its wake. Melting into his hands, I closed my eyes as his tongue flicked across my previously neglected nipple. Sucking in a breath as he lavished it with as much attention as he had the first.  

A cry escaped me as he teeth teased the delicate skin, and I smiled thinking of what I had said to Genson in the stable. If he wanted to bite, so would I.All Rights Reserved

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4 parts

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Afraid Not

"If we are to use you as bait to lure our possessed Witcher here to Kaer Morhen, do you understand what that entails?" Jaskier nods, but he remains quiet. A slight tremor works its way into his right hand, and Yennefer smirks at its appearance. The sorceress scoffs faintly, and she approaches him. There is something in her violet eyes, like a spark that proceeds the wildfire it causes as she comes close, her voice growing low and sharp. "He will hunt you," Yennefer whispers, as though she is reciting some sort of spell, bewitching as she is sardonic, "You cannot hide from him. You cannot outrun him. You cannot overpower him." Jaskier swallows, but he does not waiver. Not even as Yennefer begins to circle him. Despite the tears in her dress and the dirt that clings to her form, she remains as entrancing as ever. It's as though she's a fever dream Jaskier can only spot from the corners of his eyes. Her words come to Jaskier like a mirage, a silhouette muddled in fog. The only solid sensation coming from her being the race her words bring to his heart. "You will be at the Witcher's mercy." That should scare Jaskier. But it doesn't.