#yeehaa

It’s comfortably warm as you ride through tree covered trails. Past a pack of wolves, who only raise their heads from their sleeping place at the base of a tree slightly off the path, unthreatened by your presence.

“heyyy!” he all but yelps suddenly, as your hand slides downward, to brush against him innocently. Geralt glances back over his shoulder quickly and grumbles something about kids under his breath.

You pause, hand dropping to his thigh and from your place behind him, you notice his fingers tighten on the reins.

Jaskier finds himself becoming very aware of your breath at the back of his neck and the way your chest is pressing against him.

With one arm still around his waist, your fingers trail along the inside of his thigh and he clears his throat, unable to do anything about your slow, tantalising touches.

“next time, you are up front,” he manages as your hand finds his hardening bulge, palming him through his pants.

He shifts in the saddle, pressing himself a little more desperately against your hand.

“Gods-“

With another couple of firm strokes of your hand, you pull away, arms moving back to rest around his waist.

“Wait, what!?”

Jaskier fights the urge to look back over his shoulder at you and forces a straight face as he notices Geralt stopped ahead, obviously pausing to let you catch back up to him.

Nothing hides the red shade of Jaskier’s cheeks, however.

He mentions lunch with it being a little after noon, and both you and Jaskier are quick to agree.

You jump off first and take the mares reins from Jaskier with an innocent smile and flutter of your eyelashes. He takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly, readjusting himself and then following you over to where Geralt’s tied Roach.

It takes a lot to hide your nervous? smile as you approach the horses after lunch and Jaskier gestures for you to mount up first.

You know he won’t be able to help himself. But he does apparently, and you go for a few hours, with his arms around you comfortably and him humming insistently at your ear.

Geralt rides on a little further ahead on Roach, energy levels wildly exceeding the both of you, as your journey North.

Jaskier smirks at the feeling of your back relaxing against his chest.

“Did you just yawn?” He asks, offended, “is my company that boring?

“Hey, I’m tired, it’s been a long day,” you throw back with a tired chuckle and he sighs, arms tightening slightly around your waist.

You ride in silence for a little while longer, the sun beginning to dip closer the horizon, dragging the sky in hues of gold.

When he starts moving one of his hands, you tense. But he raises it behind you and sweeps your hair over one shoulder, baring your neck to him.

Again, he waits before his lips find the dip where your shoulder and neck meet. He peppers kisses against the side of your neck slowly, and you find your head tilting ever so slightly.

That’s when you feel his teeth graze your skin, and with one deep kiss, his teeth sink into your skin. Gently enough for it to hurt only a little, but you gasp and feel his grip on you tighten.

He runs his tongue over the marks from his teeth in another languid kiss before you can find your words.

“did you just bite me?”

Jaskier only chuckles in response.

There are minutes of unbearable silence as one of his hands drops to your hip and his fingers dig in with enough force to allow bruises to bloom beneath them.

A shiver of pleasure shoots up your spine as his hand moves along the waistband of your pants, teasingly dipping his fingers beneath, and your hand jumps from the reins to grab his wrist as he brushes over your clit.

He stills, palm resting against you.

You whine and he kisses your neck again.

“how funny do you think teasing is right now?” 

Your thoughts scatter at his words and he chuckles, breath hot against the back of your neck.

“yeah, two can play that little game,”

He moves again, a finger rubbing your clit in leisurely circles. You bite your bottom lip hard, one hand still gripping his wrist, the other holding the reins.

Your mare’s hoofbeats are soft as you turn off from the road to cut across a small field in the direction of where Geralt knows, is a tavern that he hopes has an available room that he would gladly pay for.

As soon as you end up back on the road, only a few hundred meters from a small village, Jaskier pulls his hand back, and you’re left with your breath caught in your throat.

You’re lost in both thought and the need to be touched when your mare stops next to Roach. The two snuffle noses as Geralt pulls something out of one of his saddle bags.

He nods toward a still lit building and holds a small pouch out to you. The coins inside it clink as you take it.

“Get a room. Please.”