#the slope inside is not very smooth and it’s bothering me a little bit LOL but i’m in love with the colors i chose

[diabolicjoy]

still not very good at throwing, but this is definitely a bowl…! right!?!?!?

[theonetheycallhannah]

A Mage’s Beginning-Part Two

Summary: Anathema and Geralt continue their evening together learning more about each other and Anathema makes a big decision...but not a very difficult one, in the end.

Pairing: Geralt/OFC (Anathema of Velena)

Word Count: 4742

Rating/Warnings: E for language, mature themes and situations, smut, smutty smut. 

Part One here 

Inspiration: Same as part one, just taking things to a sexy place in part two.

Author’s Note: So, here’s where things get steamy, friends! I’ve gotten explicit in some places, but in others, I decided to let you use your imaginations. (One of my favorite sayings, after all is “I don’t have a dirty mind, i have a sexy imagination!” lol!”) 

Tag List: @sunflowersstan @mylittlepartofthegalaxy @mstgsmy @lareinedususpense @geekycanuck @lunedelorient and @littlefreya Please let me know if you want to be tagged or if you want me not to tag you in things! I will not be offended! 

"I don't recall saying I'd mind sharing a cozy space with you, Ana." He used the short form of her name and it sent shivers through her. Only her closest friends and Tissaia ever used that name, and she was fine to let Geralt be among that elite.

"I assumed…"

"Mmm, bad idea, assuming. Haven't you heard?" As if to punctuate the joke, he stroked her ass.

"Geralt, I…"

"Don't. Don't lie to me. Just as you can sense a witcher, I can tell when someone wants me. I can smell the change in their bodies. Hear it in their pulse. See it in the dilation in their pupils and the blush of their skin. You can't hide it, Ana." He spoke all of these utterly irrelevant and obvious words in his guttural growl. All sounding like variations of his signature "mmm."

"Geralt, no, that's not what I mean. You're completely right about all of that, of course. But that's not why I hesitate now."

He looked at her, apparently concerned that he was dangerously near his word cap for the day.

"I'm very attracted to you. I won't deny it. But I'm not…I haven't. Fuck how can I even get into this at my age?"

"If it's something I need to know, like a disease, or something, don't mince around it."

God he was thick. The thickest. His thighs had nothing on that skull of his. Nothing but a canon was getting through it. For all his insight into other more physical things, how could he not sense something like this?

"I've never been with a man, you dolt." she rolled her eyes. The moment seemed to wither with their libidos. A virgin. How could she still be a virgin. It wasn't even a question. It was an accusation. A criminal charge.

He scowled, shook his head, something like a whinnying horse, and replied, "Fuck does that matter?" and he kissed her deeply and warmly. Firmly but tenderly. She started to bend to him. She would do this if he was willing to take her. But wait. Her sanity prevailed.

"Wait, wait, Geralt." she said around his lips and tongue. She still felt drugged. Damn, she could have done that for hours.

"Haven't you waited long enough, little mage?" he went for her mouth again, but she put up her hands to his chest to firmly protest.

"Yes. I have. I really want this. I promise, I do, but…I'm going to want to take things slowly. I don't know what to expect." Her hands were shaking against that cliff face of a chest he had. He took them in his, folding them together as if in prayer, and began to kiss them.

"In short, pleasure." he breathed out a laugh. He was sure of himself. She rolled her eyes. "We can go at your pace and I'll talk you through everything. We can take all night. Or several nights, if you like. Just know that I'm not bothered at all by this. I'm actually honored. I feel…privileged. You have nothing to fear from me. I only want for us to enjoy ourselves together." he pulled her back out into the main area in the tent and sat her on the chaise lounge near the top where the back and arm were.

"We are just going to kiss for now. Okay? If you want me to do more, just…move my hands wherever you want them. And talk to me about how you're doing. I don't want to hurt you. But I might by accident if you don't tell me when I start to." she nodded that she understood. That wasn't enough for him. "Tell me that you understand."

"I will tell you if you start to hurt me or if I need you to stop." she expressed, adding the bit about stopping on her own. They were sat next to one another, his hand resting behind her on the low-sloping arm of the lounge, bracing him. She thought he seemed a bit nervous, too. His other hand lifted her chin so he could better view her face. His touch was surprisingly gentle for his size, profession, and the way he spoke. His next words were the biggest shock yet.

"You are so terribly lovely, Anathema." her eyes focused on him in that moment of vulnerable expression. Why was it so exposing to tell someone that fact about themselves? Why did it seem to say so much about you? She had trouble reciprocating the compliment, even though she felt it…by the gods, did she ever feel it. She could only manage tearful gratitude. She couldn't remember being told of her beauty. Even after her ascension. After she truly saw it. "You really are. These eyes of yours. I'm lost in them." he leaned in to envelope her mouth in another kiss. This one, only her third ever, was gentle and measured, and didn't press for entry as the previous one had. He was content like this. And it was splendid. He kissed well, with his hand bracing her nape to maintain the proper pressure. She turned her body to him. She wanted to touch him.  One arm found his back and smoothed the fabric of his tunic over the warm granite of his sinew. The other landed lightly, and she thought, harmlessly on his leg near his knee. She heard him inhale sharply through the nose and groan into her mouth, increasing pressure on her lips.

She knew this meant he needed more of her. And she was beginning to feel the same. She parted her lips for him. His tongue entered tentatively, but quickly became right at home. She wasn’t expecting him to be so…active. So nimble. He was tasting every inch of her mouth. Inside and out. Lapping, nipping, and kissing around her mouth to tease her. It was working. She was giggling and he followed suit.

“That laugh. It takes me to a better time and place. It’s the most magical thing about you. And it’s all you.” What was he doing to her!? She pulled him in again, needing his mouth. She swung her leg around the other side of the chaise so that Geralt was essentially sitting between her knees. She shimmied closer. She wanted his arms around her. His hands feeling her. She needed him to just take control because she couldn’t do all of the work here and concentrate on the sensations.

“Put your hands on me, Geralt. Hold me. Do what you will. I’ll stop you if you’re going too far.” she begged. It went against the grain a bit, to plead to him like this, but at lease he wasn't the kind to take advantage or devalue her as most men would. It was all he needed to hear. He shifted so that he was now above her, one foot on the floor, the other knee on the cushion. She felt as though he was trying to pull her up into heaven the way he kissed her and held her neck and waist. She didn't know why he was bothering when she was already there. The pressure of him was so exquisite. She didn't know whether she would implode from it, or explode.

Her hands couldn't remain idle, themselves. They were on a sensory mission to explore his tunic and trousers. Such a different sensation now than when she'd been cleaning and mending them. No longer containing mere whispers and memories of him, but his warm, solid flesh incarnate. Her touch, light and teasing, had spurred him on to advance their kissing session to a more vertical position. She succumbed to him again, to the pressure of his bodyweight now advancing her back onto the pillows behind her, ones that she'd chosen to be decorative, but had become suddenly very welcome in a practical sense.

She'd been right to reserve the term "ravenous" during their dinner. She hadn't seen anything yet. His mouth sought every inch of her mouth to conquer, and when it needed a break, it retreated a while to her cheeks, and forehead, and chin. To her ears, neck, and sternum. She felt fire being fanned inside her at his onslaught and was beginning to lose her mind. What to do? Then like lightning, something primal in her that had been stirring since she'd met Geralt woke with a bolt. A creature to match the one driving her lover. She suddenly knew what to do to get relief. To quench that fire for a time.

Her wrap dress was already slipping from her thighs. She flicked it away with her knee to free her throbbing center. She used her legs to pull Geralt's thigh closer to her drenched, hot body, needing contact, and somehow knowing, even as a novice, that nothing would do right now, except for him. He growled at the naughty act, she giggled, until suddenly, it was not funny. The leather hit her center and she began to twist and thrust her pelvis against his leg. Her slickness gliding so easily against it that she had to keep herself from going too fast. Or maybe she didn't. She already felt something building. Maybe she should go with it.

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, Anathema?" he gently and respectfully asked the pointed question that very few could get away with.

She hadn't. She'd heard tales of girls in town losing their virginity by riding horses, so she'd always insisted on riding in a cart or carriage if she had to go anywhere back then. Not that she went many places. She found out later, much to her embarrassment that those stories were myths perpetuated by her mother to keep her modest and "pure," in spite of the fact that this irony could not be overstated.

And although Sapphic rumors teemed about the lady mages of Aretuza, she'd never been involved in anything of the sort…not that she hadn't been curious. And not that she would have turned down an invitation if she'd received one.

And she just hadn't known enough about her body to really try to make that happen on her own. Even though she knew it was possible.

She shook her head, and stopped thrusting dead in her tracks.

"You are free to continue doing that all night, if you like. But if you're ready, I'd love to give you your first one. What do you think?"

"What…what do you mean?" she asked. She wasn't trying to be dirty, but she really was curious what he meant to do to her.

"I mean foreplay, sweetheart." he brushed a tendril of sweat-dampened hair away from her face. And continued. "I'll use my hands and fingers, my tongue, if you want. You'll need quite a bit before we go all the way. It gets you ready for me, and it will feel incredible."

She said nothing, just stared at him with a faraway shyness in her eyes. She was considering what this meant. If he was ready to go on to this stage, he'd be ready for sex soon, too. And she wasn't certain that she was. But maybe the next step would be the motivation she needed. She nodded.

"Stop me though, if you don't like what I'm doing, okay?" he prompted sternly. Somehow, she knew this required a vocal response.

"Okay, I will." she nodded again.

"May I?" he asked, hands already beginning to untie her dress. She moaned her assenting response. He planted a centering kiss between her breasts, then moved clockwise around to her right nipple, up her neck, savaging her ear and kissing her deeply and with marked poignancy before descending the other side. Every kiss, nip, and touch of his tongue made her delirious. He anchored again in the center of her sternum, and descended. She squirmed beneath him, feeling every breath out of his mouth and nose course through her like a hurricane. Each touch, a lightning strike. She felt the tectonic plates in her body shifting under his handiwork. This was so alien to her. She loved the feeling. She tensed when he reached her pelvis. There was no accounting for these nerves, but she was feeling them, nevertheless.

"Relax, kitten. This part isn't going to hurt at all." The emphasis he put on the words "this part" caused her some dismay…it implied that there would be parts that would hurt. That was unnerving. But she couldn't think too much about that when his mouth was on her bare skin. He was teasing her without mercy. Kissing and licking all over her lower abdomen…her pelvis…her thighs. Then he growled…or at least that's what she thought it sounded like.

She looked down and tried to decipher the look on his face. It was almost the same look he'd had before they started dinner tonight. When he was washed up and ready for his meal. Hungry. Was he hungry again? Looking…at her? Blessed mother, he wasn't going to…but he did. He laid a gentle kiss onto her trembling mound. He was just breathing over her. Warming her already smoldering body. She writhed again. She felt a strange, hollow ache deep inside.  A painful emptiness was creeping over her body unlike anything she'd ever felt. It was most prevalent in a place that she didn't remember thinking about that much before. Somewhere adjacent to her bladder. It felt almost like a spinning top, wound too tightly, and made to spin for far too long.

He inhaled her again, all around her hips, teasing her, avoiding that spot nearby that was alight with nervous energy and ready to engulf them both in an inferno with the next tiny spark. She hadn't even realized it, but she'd been writhing beneath him, eager for contact. For friction.

"Easy, little tiger. I've got you. I'll take care of you." he smiled against her smooth skin. "It's just…your scent. I needed more of it before I went on." he didn't elaborate on what he was smelling, or why he needed it. She assumed it was a combination of the lilac in her soap and bathwater, and the rosewater she used to soften her skin along with her natural musk coming out as she got warmer.

He spread her as far as he could now, and reached out a calloused finger to her middle. She'd never felt this sort of touch. She gasped at the newness as he rubbed the little hood over her urethra. She thought she'd heard it referred to the clit in impolite conversations at Aretuza. Conversations in which she could not participate actively because of lack of experience. She moaned as he continued, varying his patterns and methods. He added a second finger, eventually, sliding one up and down either side of the trigger point. She didn't know what to do with herself. She couldn't form coherent thoughts anymore.

If she though she was going insane with just his touch, she was in for quite a shock given what was about to happen. As his fingers slid out of the way, his lips immediately replaced them. The sensations couldn't have been more different, but gods, how she loved them both. She was learning very quickly what she had been missing all of these years. And so far, she thought she might end up making up for lost time.

He sighed as he began laying open mouthed kisses to her quivering heat, tasting her body as she got wetter and wetter. It seemed the more he had of her, the more he wanted. Before long, the pleasure was almost more than she could stand. She wanted to stop him. Push him away. But it felt too good. She held on to the back of the chaise supporting her, now in more ways than one as he tortured her with the sheer bliss of his mouth.

She felt a digit graze her flower in gentle exploration as he continued his feast. He tested her, watching her for a reaction. She looked at him and just nodded. She was ready to have him inside her in some way or another. He breached her slowly, tenderly, searching for and quickly finding another doorway to ecstasy that she had no idea was there. She bucked her hips up, thrusting into his mouth, not expecting the surge of pleasure his touch would bring. She felt him giggle against her. She loved the sound, in no small part because, from what she'd learned thus far of the man between her legs, it didn't seem like his life was filled with much laughter. She'd not only been witness to a rare thing, but caused it to happen. That made her feel more powerful than any magic she'd learned so far ever could do.

He slid another finger inside her, spreading her deliciously, and filling her exquisitely. She shuddered at the slight twinge it caused her. She thought about his…well, she remembered several things together, actually. She remembered him implying that there would eventually be pain. She remembered his cock swinging thick and low as he stood naked before her. She remembered being put under for her transformation and being very sore in several…womanly places when she awoke from the anesthetization. She suddenly put together all of these thoughts like a puzzle and got a new, somewhat startling picture. When he had sex with her…real, actual sex, that would absolutely hurt.

She somehow had room for both the current pleasure and the impending fear. She tried to focus on the former. His fingers and mouth were miracles, finding all of the right places and doing all the right things exactly right…if this was so right, how could having him inside her, REALLY inside her, be wrong? He was picking up speed and pressure. Her breathing quickened and her body tensed. She could feel something about to happen.

"Let go for me, baby. Feel it. Enjoy this." his instructions weren't specific, but they were helpful enough in encouraging her to release whatever she'd been holding onto, tethering her to the physical plane. And the pressure inside that he'd been building for her suddenly exploded like a tiny bomb inside her. She was shattered, but whole. Fractured, but complete. Lost in nirvana but certain now of what was next. Her body pulsed with blood and spasms as she rode out the waves of her first ever orgasm. The first of many, she was certain. And more than a little hopeful.

"Oh, Geralt. Is this normal? Does it…does it always…feel like this?" she asked dreamily as he kissed his way up to her neck.

"You're very sensitive, Ana. Since you've never done this before, it will be very intense for you for a while. Until you get more familiar with it." he stared at her, caressing her blissed out face with a satisfied and smug grin. His lips looked so inviting, wet with her arousal.

"Come 'ere." she pulled him down to her easily. She was full of thoughts as she kissed her flavor from his full lips. She thought about ever getting used to what she'd just experienced. She didn't think it seemed likely. She also couldn't get the picture of his naked body out of her mind. What must he be like all cleaned up and smelling nice. She ran her hands down his abdomen to his bulge, which threatened to damage his newly repaired trousers. She palmed and squeezed him there gently.

"Geralt, I want it to be tonight." she assured him. She was beyond done being a virgin, and Geralt was the one she wanted to usher her into womanhood. He'd been doing so well, and who knows? They could be dead tomorrow. Why wait and risk it?

"You're sure, Anathema? You want me to do this to you?"

"No! Geralt! I want you to do this FOR me! I'm ready, you're incredible, and I want it to be you."

"Well, let's say I'll do this WITH you? Okay? I'm not doing it here, though. This is not the place where one is deflowered. Lead me to your bed, maiden, so I can make you a maiden no more." he said coyly as he stood and pulled her up as well. She took him by the hand and they walked toward the area where her bed was. She let go of him and slid the wrap dress off her shoulders, as it was barely hanging on, anyway.

Geralt was working at the laces of his tunic. Anathema didn't feel this was a prudent use of time, however and spelled him naked with a mighty wind.

"That's convenient." he laughed as he stepped forward to wrap her up in his crushing kiss. She replied in muffled fragments that when strung together sounded something like, "I never have occasion to use it. And it was terribly awkward to learn at Aretuza."

"You never mentioned naked women in your rant earlier this evening." he teased.

She poked his ribs and backed him onto the bed.

"Who said we practiced on women?" she asked, climbing atop him, and pinning him to the bed with a hungry kiss of her own. He raised his eyebrows. "We practiced on rabbits in human clothes. But ya know. Sometimes we'd miss." she teased. He flipped her over in a show of unquestionable dominance. Playful, but absolutely in charge.

"You are a feisty one. I like that."

"Yeah?" she asked, breathless through his drowning and drugging kisses against her mouth and neck and oh, gods, every-damn-place.

"I like breaking in a wild filly. It's a challenge. One I'm more than up to." as if to punctuate the statement, he ran a firm hand up her neck, not choking, but implying his ability, and grinding his hard member against her. She gasped.

"But tonight," he continued, "I'll make sure to go easy. Your first time shouldn't be like that. We have plenty of time for…well, everything." he lifted her enough to pull back the bed coverings and laid her back down, properly this time, in the center of the mattress.

"Now, I want to ask you one more time. Are you sure about this?" he looked uncertain, himself. She didn't take it personally as she might have so many years ago. She knew his uncertainty was not a reflection of her desirability, but rather a concern that she was finally succumbing to a societal ideal and taboo all together. Because once she fucked Geralt, she would no longer be a prude. She would be a whore. And there would be no in-between. It didn't matter. She didn't care. Fuck everyone who had ever called her a prude. Fuck everyone who would ever call her a whore. Fuck everyone but Geralt…ironically. The one person she was about to literally fuck.

"I'm sure about this, Geralt. I'm sure about now. And most of all, I'm sure about you." she reached for the nearest bit of him, his hand, and grabbed it. She squeezed as tight as she could and smiled full of hope and excitement. He kissed the hand that had found his, and held it to his heart.

"Know that this means something to me. And it always will. No matter what becomes of us. Tonight is special to us both, Anathema." And with that heartfelt sentiment, he spread her legs.

He dipped his mouth to her center one last time to make sure she was ready for him, lending his tongue again just to make sure. Then, kneeling above her, he took his length in his hand and paused, looking at her. He was so close to her. She could feel his body heat radiating into her. Almost a touch.

"Ready?"

"Yes, Geralt." she didn't beg, but the words fell almost wanton from her lips.

He went into her little by little, causing her sweet agony. He went so slowly. She half wondered if it might be better to just have him slam into her. But she dared not ask. This was too perfect. Just when she thought there couldn't be any more of him, more is what he gave. His face was left her awestruck. The picture of agonized restraint. It did two things perfectly. It showcased just how difficult it was for him to show that restraint they discussed before; for which she now felt in his debt. It also made her want him to keep going. Harder. And faster. She knew he would, once she acclimated to the disparity in their body sizes.

She slid her hand up his rippling arm, over his sinewy shoulder and clasped it gently over his neck. His eyes met hers as he met the resistance inside her. Sparks flashed in her periphery and the canvas above her spun and wavered as if a tornado was about to snatch it right up from the supports and stakes. But there was no wind. There was only Geralt. Geralt, who was now beginning his slow thrusts. Nothing could have prepared her for the sensation of having him inside her. The pain of it was so delicious. This wasn't like the pain of an injury, as was her concern. This was like getting out of bed after a long sleep and stretching your muscles. That ache that came from using something long dormant. Which was exactly what was happening.

"Oh. Yes. Geralt!" she exclaimed as he quickened his pace slightly. Gradually. His mouth began working on her upper body. From her breasts to her ears, he ravaged her with love bites and wet, suckling kisses, and the filthiest nonsense in her ear she could have ever imagined.

"Ana, it feels so good inside you." That was one of her favorites. She didn't know she needed the words from him along with everything else. The touch, and the thrusts which grew faster by the minute. She could feel herself building tension again like she had earlier. She was eager  for another, but something was holding her back. She wasn't sure what it was.

"I'm gonna come inside you very soon, okay?" she nodded, but voiced a concern.

"Geralt, I don't think I'm going to be able to do it again." she didn't mean to sound so worried or upset. But apparently she was. And in her heightened state of arousal, she couldn't mask it.

"You can, baby. Of course you can. You can do it ten times as often as I can, and not to brag, but that's saying something. I'll help you, kitten." and he reached between their bodies and touched her again, never breaking his stride. She replied in the affirmative with a strangled "fuck," and continued to ride the waves of pleasure through her pinnacle and then his, hot and fast inside her. She had the presence of mind to take note of the sound he made as he lost himself. It was a guttural, almost feral grunt filled with pleasure and relief. She felt a swelling of pride. She couldn't explain it because, intellectually, she was sure that pretty much anyone could have given Geralt what she just had, but on the other hand…they hadn't…and she had.

"Wow!" Ana said, breathless. Limp. Satisfied.

"You can say that again." Geralt replied in the same manner, and equally spent. Rolling to her side, but still touching her.

"Can we DO that again?" She asked eagerly. He laughed, which made her smile and turn towards him and play with his skin, dewy from exertion.

"We can. I would like that very much. But maybe tonight we get some rest. We have a difficult task ahead of us in finding out what decimated this city, and if it's what I think it is, it will take all of our combined skills to defeat it." he said, somberly delaying their next romp and bringing the matter that had brought them together back to the forefront of her mind.

She'd had her suspicions, as well, but didn't want to be right, and certainly didn't want to think about it after such a beautiful milestone in her life.

"Okay. But, will you please stay with me?"

"After you conjured me such lovely quarters?" he teased. She nodded sheepishly. "Of course, little witch. If that's what you want."

"It is, witcher." she grinned haughtily at him, pulled him closer, and with a wave of her hand, cast the tent into pitch blackness.

~fin~