[ Geralt will have to forgive her for not giving a single fuck about his comfort at the moment, although in fairness to her, he's the one responsible for his own positioning right now. The only thing she can currently focus on is the building pressure inside herself, spreading like wildfire from her core out into the rest of her. Her nails bite into the back of his hand as she pants and sighs.
At a certain point, her fingers begin to claw at his hair, knotting at the roots until the closer ear gets in her way, folds up under her palm. She's not actually entirely sure whether the connection he has with them works both ways -- they move with his expressions but she can't tell whether he gets feedback from them. She hopes not, because she grabs it roughly and yanks it away, discarding it to the side before she slips her fingers back into his hair, pushes it back.
The darkness of the room and his angle make his eyes look like honey, all the sharpness of the yellow canceled out and turned warm. Closing her own eyes, she whimpers and rolls her hips against his mouth. She's teetering on an edge, stringing out the pleasure as much as she can. ]
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At a certain point, her fingers begin to claw at his hair, knotting at the roots until the closer ear gets in her way, folds up under her palm. She's not actually entirely sure whether the connection he has with them works both ways -- they move with his expressions but she can't tell whether he gets feedback from them. She hopes not, because she grabs it roughly and yanks it away, discarding it to the side before she slips her fingers back into his hair, pushes it back.
The darkness of the room and his angle make his eyes look like honey, all the sharpness of the yellow canceled out and turned warm. Closing her own eyes, she whimpers and rolls her hips against his mouth. She's teetering on an edge, stringing out the pleasure as much as she can. ]