The pressure of Jaskier's hands on her, digging right into her flesh, makes her groan. She knows it will leave bruises and she wants it to. As much as Jaskier enjoys marking, Nadine enjoys being marked. The physical memory, embedded in her skin, is erotic on its own accord.

She should have asked for this sooner. This fierceness, this rawness, it's sending her to new heights. She lets the vines take her weight, enjoying the feel of them against her skin. Firm but yielding and vibrant, pulsing with the life of their handsome master. Never before would she have thought of plants as arousing or pleasurable, but in the moment they're adding a great deal to the encounter.

"We're each other's." The words are breathy and tinged with lust, matching her darkened and heavy lidded eyes. Nadine's face is the picture of desire, pink cheeks and bruised lips parted shamelessly. Her hips meet his and her legs grip at him, wrapping around him as she chases that peak that's growing closer and closer.

There's no mistaking when it hits, when the waves of pleasure crash into one great crest that floods her every sense. Her body bows and tenses and and she cries out loudly, shuddering and flexing around him.