Heart of Ice • The Witcher

Chapter 11 • What a Witcher Can't Have

   If the girl who copied my story is reading this...

   Hi :)

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   Anaya never once imagined this is how her first kiss would occur, how she would be the one to take a chance and initiate it. Still, she didn't regret her choice to kiss Geralt. The moment her lips touched his, he sunk into the kiss, no retaliation, no hesitation, nothing but the pure need for more, shown in the way his hands immediately pulled her body flush against his. She had kissed him first and, by doing so, she had asserted her dominance over him. But Geralt did not like being in the weaker position. He was used to being in control, in charge, at least in bed, and Anaya learned that very quickly. 

   Anaya was quite pleased with herself as she kissed Geralt, now that she had proven he had wanted to kiss her in the bath, but she was also nervous. This was her first time kissing anyone, she didn't even know if what she was doing was correct, she just followed his rhythm of motion and hoped for the best. However, that wasn't the only reason why she was nervous. The kiss, the kiss with a Witcher, the kiss that was just meant to prove a point felt so right it was wrong. This is what she had been denying herself. Geralt, his touch, her feelings towards him that seemed to pour out of her mind and into the kiss. 

   She had thought people always exaggerated kissing, it was just the touching of two body parts after all, but the way he was making her feel, the way her body responded to his, the way she wanted more, the way she needed more, all from a simple kiss was alarming. 

   When Geralt's tongue slipped between her lips and into her mouth, she was so surprised she nearly bit down on it. 

   Was this normal?

   The feeling was so foreign to her, so strange, but she responded with the movement of her tongue against his. It was new to her and before she could even begin to learn, Geralt took charge and removed his lips from hers. Saying she was disappointed would have been an understatement, but he had decided he wasn't getting the reaction he wanted from her, not by just kissing her. 

   He wanted more out of her, but more importantly, he wanted to give her more. He wanted to give her enough to keep her wanting more for days, he wanted to make her feel better than she'd ever felt before, he wanted to hear her loving each and every second of it. 

   His lips found their way to her neck and her body immediately responded by moving further into his touch. Her neck tipped back to allow him whatever space he wanted, to allow him access wherever he wanted to go. He left deep kisses, trailing from the top of her neck and to the beginning of her dress's neckline, each of them eliciting heavy breathing soaked in pleasure.

   He still wanted more. Breathing wasn't going to cut it, not now that he'd already started. If he could have his way, she would already be beneath him, on the bed or floor, wherever he wanted, however he wanted. But he had to behave himself with her, she wasn't just anyone, she was more than that, she meant much more than that. He couldn't just have his way with her because there was no telling what would happen after that. She could become attached, she could want to be with him and although there was a part of him that wanted to be with her too, he couldn't give into it. He couldn't allow space for her in his heart, because if he did, he knew giving her up when the time came would be impossible.

   Still, he needed her, especially now that he was getting hard, now that he'd undone the top half of her dress, now that she was eagerly waiting for him to continue. Never before had he been forced to control himself for so long around a woman. Usually, he'd have them whenever he wanted to and they would always be more than willing to do whatever he wanted them to do. But with her... she was a princess and he a Witcher, he couldn't have her, not unless she wanted to give herself to him. This was her choice to make, but in the end, he knew whatever they did that night could not mean anything. 

   "Aya," he said. "You were right, I did try to kiss you."

   "I figured," she said, breathlessly. 

   "That's all that's happened here. Just a kiss."

   "I mean, I wouldn't say that's all that has happened here," she said, looking down at his pants. 

   "If you want this to go on, just say it doesn't mean anything."

   "Doesn't mean anything?"

   "There can be nothing between us if you want to do this. It's just fucking and that's it. No feelings, no strings, just fucking."

   "Do I look like a common whore to you?" Anaya said, taking a step away from him, out of his hold so she could tie her dress back up. 

   "No, I know what you are and that's the problem. You're a princess, the future Queen of this kingdom, and I'm a Witcher. You can't get involved with me or my world, it's not where you belong."

   "Are you stupid? Do you not see where I am? Have you not been paying attention to anything? I'm already involved in your world! Why does it matter if I get involved with you too? Why does it matter if doing this means something to me?"

   "Aya," Geralt sighed, taking a seat on the bed. "I'm not good for you. I'm not good for anyone. Have you ever heard of a Witcher with a wife? With children? With a family? No. We're meant to be alone, we're meant to live alone and die alone."

   "Geralt, it doesn't have to be that way-"

   "It does. They made us infertile for a reason, Aya. The woman I fuck, they know it's just sex, they know nothing will come of it because they know they won't ever see me again. This, if you still want to go through with it, it can't mean anything to you or me, because once I return you to your castle, to where you belong, I promise you won't ever see me again." 

   "I'm sorry," Anaya said. She didn't know what else to say. She had no idea just how lonely the life of a Witcher truly was, how sad it was. To never have had anyone to love, to never allow oneself to love, to even feel... she couldn't even begin to imagine. 

   "Don't apologize, I accepted it a long time ago. I just need to know, will this mean anything to you, Aya?" 

   Anaya looked at him, into his eyes that were trying so hard to hide the hint of sadness behind them. She wanted him physically, she wanted to be one of those women who knew exactly what sleeping with a Witcher meant, but she wasn't. Not when she wanted him emotionally too. She wanted to feel for him, more than she already did. She wanted to give in to him entirely with everything she could offer, but in return she wanted the same from him which she now knew she could never have. 

   "It will," she said. Geralt almost seemed both surprised and disappointed in her answer, as if he was glad and let down to hear there was a part of her that had feelings for him. 

   "That's that then," he nodded, standing up from the bed and making his way over to his side. 

   "Would it have meant something to you?" She asked suddenly. Call it another way of asking if he had feelings for her, but she had to know. 

   Geralt didn't meet her eyes. Instead, he sat down on his side of the bed facing away from her. Sighing, he replied, "Yes, Aya. It would have meant something to me."

   "But you would have still done it if my answer had been different?"

   "Yes."

   "Well, that's unfair," Anaya huffed, getting into bed. 

   Geralt chuckled and laid down next to her. "If it were one-sided, it would still be considered fucking. When it becomes two-sided and the feelings are mutual..."

   "I think it's called making love."

   "And that is the one thing I can't have."