[John is not aware of the full extent of Geralt’s abilities, he is not aware of how careful he must be, to hold back as he does. He is too distracted himself, by the press of Geralt’s lips on his own, the heat of his skin, and that sound he drags out from him. A sound that cuts right through him, the pleasure tingle of it running down his nerve endings like miniature lightning bolts, setting his skin ablaze.
It is a pity he has not undressed, that Geralt cannot touch him further in return. But John is otherwise preoccupied, and like a mantra he thinks to himself hazily: there will be time, yet.
In the meanwhile, he has the other man right where he wants him. Pulling back out of the kiss in the attempt to catch his breath and nip at the underside of Geralt’s jaw, his finger stroke, soft yet firm. Teasing yet certain. Letting himself explore with touch alone. Running a thumb across the very tip of him. Sliding down to circle at the very base and squeezing, ever so slightly.
John may not be taking his sweet time, but he is not rushing this either. Enjoying himself and enjoying Geralt, in this moment. Confident in the fact he knows exactly what he is doing.]
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It is a pity he has not undressed, that Geralt cannot touch him further in return. But John is otherwise preoccupied, and like a mantra he thinks to himself hazily: there will be time, yet.
In the meanwhile, he has the other man right where he wants him. Pulling back out of the kiss in the attempt to catch his breath and nip at the underside of Geralt’s jaw, his finger stroke, soft yet firm. Teasing yet certain. Letting himself explore with touch alone. Running a thumb across the very tip of him. Sliding down to circle at the very base and squeezing, ever so slightly.
John may not be taking his sweet time, but he is not rushing this either. Enjoying himself and enjoying Geralt, in this moment. Confident in the fact he knows exactly what he is doing.]