To Heal A Lonely Heart

Moonbathed

The huge full moon lit my path as I weaved between the trees. While I ran, Geralt stalked after me, like a hunter, a wolf, waiting for the right moment to pounce. But the moment wouldn't come soon; first, we'd have to get closer to the pond. The thrill was in the chase anyway; the uncertainty if he'd pounce now and throw me over his shoulder, or wait until the last moment to jump and throw me to the ground.

I jogged between the trees, holding on to one from time to time, to turn and look behind me, giggling quietly when Geralt stared back at me, a wide, predatory smirk on his face. Sometimes, he'd curl his lip and flash his fangs – yes, fangs. This would make me start running again. We both liked this game; it felt natural to him, a predator, and I loved to play the prey for my husband, knowing it was worth the reward later.

Too soon, the pond came into sight and I picked up my pace, hearing Geralt doing the same behind me. I was really running now, my feet hitting the ground below me in a fast manner. For a second, Geralt's footsteps stopped and I was about to wonder why he'd end the chase, already turning around, when I felt two strong arms wrap around me, turning my body fully towards him. He had pounced. Everything happened so fast. One moment I was running, the next I was in his arms, lying on top of him in the soft grass, my face hovering above his.

"Got you," he growled just before I leaned down to brush my lips against his. He sighed at the feel of my soft lips on his own; two months had been too long. The few kisses we shared today couldn't make up for that lost time.

I pulled back, studying his face, illuminated by the silver moonlight. It made his skin glow, the sharp edges of his cheek and jawbones even sharper, more defined, white hair, spayed out in the grass, shining like a silver halo around his head. He looked surreal, like a god, beaming in the silver light that seemed to come from inside him. He looked as if he was the moon itself that came down to the earth in a human form. His eyes, soft and loving, shone gold as their gaze fixed on me, studying me just as I did him.

"You're beautiful, my love," he breathed in a low rumble, "My goddess."

"I was just about to say the same about you, minne," I smiled down at him. "You're stunning. Like an old god," I whispered as I watched the light catch in the small scar on his right cheek, reaching up a hand to gently brush over it with my thumb, before lowering my head to give it a light kiss. Geralt's hand on my waist tightened, while the other slid up to neck, gently pushing me to nuzzle my head to the crook of his neck.

There, I breathed him in, his scent of leather, wood, grass and horse, sighing.

I knew what he wanted, why he had picked me up, why he had chased me here. I knew how badly he wanted it, too. And fuck, I wanted it too. I knew I said I'd need time, but it wouldn't change the fact that I also needed him, craved him. Just as much as he craved me. But he let me approach it in my pace, letting me go as slow as I needed.

I let my lips ghost over the sensitive skin of his throat, the short stubble scratching my tender skin. A deep hum vibrated through Geralt's chest into mine and into the air around us; his thumbs on my waist and back drawing invisible circles onto my skin through the thin fabric of my nightgown. My right hand slid from his arm up to his chest, right above his slowly beating heart. But it didn't beat as slow as usual. It beat a little faster, barely noticeable if you didn't know his heartbeat like I did. This was his heartbeat when he was nervous and excited, like when he held Crevan for the first time.

Slowly, my lips followed an invisible line along his jaw back up to his lips. Slowly, oh so very slowly, my lips claimed his, opening them slightly, teasing his lower lip with the tip of my tongue. I dared to tug on it with my teeth, very gently. Still, it elicited a low groan from him and his grip on my waist tightened as the hand on my neck slid up into my hair, tugging a little. It caused me to moan into the kiss before slipping my tongue into Geralt's mouth, exploring the familiar wet cavern, tasting the sweetness of the fruit we had for dessert, the ale he drank, and simply him.