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Sleeping Beauty Reloaded	By : dschinny Category: +S through Z > Witcher 2, The: Assassins of Kings Views: 1938 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Witcher, this is purely for fun, and not profit

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter 9 - The Other Point of View – Mirrors ’n’ Roses
Meanwhile in the stable Velita entered the saddle chamber and set the cleaning box aside, “Roach is supplied,” she reported, hung her mantle on a peg at the door and set the witcher’s discarded boots aside, finding them half ways clean, but the leather was soaked. “Oh. But first things first,” she smiled “I trust you’re hungry?” she slipped out of her wooden clogs and turned them to the door so she could leave fluently.
“Sure.” Geralt had shed his armor and was sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching his long legs that reached over two-thirds of the wooden platform. Velita stopped in her tracks to the oven and perched on the edge beside him. “Your hair is all wet, too,” she reached over and ran her hand down the white strands. “…but not spiky with frost anymore. Come here.” Geralt pulled her over on his lap, noting that the bunch of fabric that folded around her waist left a lot to imagination. “We’ve been at the bathhouse.”
She inhaled the scent of his hair. “I can smell that,” she grinned, “Roses. Gernot just got to say that you’ve got a load of mud all over you and then he was gone again.” - “Hm,” She could feel him up all she wanted while he kissed her. – “You returned earlier than I expected, Geralt. I assumed they would outdo themselves to keep today’s heroes in the tavern?” – “I’m a witcher, not a story teller. I’ve got my own idea of a comfortable evening.”
“Pity. I would like to hear it from you,” she nipped that smile from the corner of his mouth and stood. She handed him her comb and brush to untangle his hair while she set the table and bent over the oven, producing a large plate with stuffed cabbage rolls, mashed swedes and gravy. Kneeling beside the table, she poured him beer. - “Serve yourself as well,” he reminded her. – “Don’t worry, I eat whenever I can, I’ve been in the kitchen to roll those up with Cass.” For his convenience and sense of fairness she got herself a bowl with mash and gravy and a spoon.
He drew his dagger to cut his food and balanced some slices over to her bowl, “You could request a kitchen knife next time they ask for your help,” he proposed. She sat with him, “The deal with Cass was that I get meat in return for help. And even if she agreed that I would need a knife for cooking, the captain would not allow it.”
He had told her he wanted roast and she obliged him to get him his usual meals even though meat wasn’t what she got on a daily basis. He made a mental note that she had to work even for the food she gave him, so the hospitality he enjoyed was practically hers and not the count’s. Hospitality was law on the path, a common practice compared to the law of surprise. “Why not? Isn’t it terribly impractical?”
“He is ahh… well, once I tried to stab him with his own knife. I understand that he cannot allow Cass to hand me another one.” – Geralt casted a steep side glance down at her “You…?” she nodded, but he continued to question her, “You mean that you attacked a fully trained, armed and armored veteran of nearly twice your weight without even a weapon on your part?”
“I did not think,” Velita tried to explain without going into a bad situation. - “I know you’re a bit unhinged at times, but I didn’t perceive you as tired of life. Should I worry about my blades?” – “Not at all,” she blushed, “no, that’s unthinkable, Geralt.” - He leaned back and turned, opening his arms on her. The blade he ate with ended well out of her reach, “Why?” he asked with a smile and a challenge. “I’ve been stupid back then, but my priorities have changed. I can see options now; respect… even friendship in my life again.” – “Because of me?” – “No,” she smirked, “because of myself.”
Even though his expression remained stony, she knew she got him back for provoking her.
“You, my handsome friend, are the pleasure of my nights, the icing on my cake.”
He was used his romantic encounters turning into women’s dirty secret, but this felt different. Her praise made him feel uneasy. He covered up that weakness with banter, “Are you sure it’s not just a slice you want, little butcher?”
“A slice won’t do. I’m going to eat you whole. You will have to fight for your position in the food chain, White Wolf… hrrr,” Velita cracked up laughing, then dug in again, “Eat your fill, Geralt, you are safe to enjoy my hospitality. All I need to get is hay for your boots or you’ll get cold wet feet in the morning.” – “I would rather have you wet until the morning.” – “You’ve got what it takes, just let me out from time to time to put on fire wood. I have to keep up the temperature to dry your boots and armor evenly.” – “A perfect excuse to keep you up all night; don’t you butcher it again.”
She helped him into his cold and soaked riding boots when they stepped out. Afterwards, she took his soaked boots up on the hayloft to stuff them with dry material and placed them on the wooden platform yet well away from the heat of oven. She arranged the plates with the same care, they needed to keep their shape.
Geralt chewed on a tooth brush branch and then rummaged around in his saddle bag, producing a small mirror. Velita had just pushed the board and stool under the saddles and started undressing “Would you like to shave?” she wondered. Geralt ran the back of two fingers along his chin, ‘oups’ he noted a roughness he would never care about on the path, but inwardly admitted that it didn’t quite match the roses. She ambled over, the knot of her belt coming loose “Really?” she tilted her head with a wide, thin grin - “Nay.” he answered truthfully, dropped the mirror on the sheet next to the stable wall and reached down to catch her by the sides of the scratchy woolen robe, pulling it over her head, “I just want to watch you undress and do other pleasurable things with you. The mirror is just to provide you the views you require.”
“Hmm.” She undid the tiny buttons set in the collar of her chemise one by one, watching him shed his pants and the black shirt that he usually let indiscriminately open. Her own collar was quite a hassle until the folded fabric fell open. She shimmied it down to her ankles in a cloud. She considered leaving it, but then she shook the garment out and put it on a peg. It had been so very valuable today.
He thought ‘always so tidy - like my saddle bags. If I could shrink her and pack her in, she would certainly fulfill more than three wishes.’ He leaned back comfortably, supporting his head on a hand as she climbed in gingerly.
Her palm ran lightly over his chest and up to his temple. He felt decently rough like sandpaper at the angles of his jaw as she moved to kiss him. She dug her fingers in his luxurious white mane as she tasted his lips. She traced his tongue with hers, leaning into him as she inhaled deeply. So this was his own scent, purged of all others, even the ever present smoke had been removed by the incredible effort of a whole tub full of hot water. His heavy, bulky body shone in the lamp’s yellow glow and his relaxed muscles were edged by the off-worldly fairness of his skin.
Underneath the coarse grey hair on his chest his skin was soft and warm; she searched and found the nicest spots. But there were raised and scarred areas also. So very many. Over the decades they had shaped a map that marked dangerous milestones in his life. She wondered how it felt to him, more sensitive, less sensitive? He didn’t give it away, had not told her a thing about the fight today. She would not pester him with questions, just take it all in and find out what he liked best.
He watched her make her move on him, kissing her back and let her explore as she liked, plucking her braids apart playfully. The curly strands slid down his ribs as she worked her way down. His member rose in happy expectation of her sensual mouth. She did not deny it thorough attention but continued her way down. “Curious, are we?” – “I am, since you’re not going to tell me the tale, I have to look for traces - here for example,” she ran her palm lightly over a bruise on the outside of his knee he hadn’t even noticed, “a new one.” – “My job isn’t kind to appearances,” – “I am glad to find that Adda and you’ve just got stains, no slashes like the horses next door.” She smiled, arriving on his slender foot, massaging then tickling lightly. “I could not have guessed you took a mud bath for your fair skin from what get to enjoy.”
“I saved some dirty thoughts for you,” Geralt wiggled his toes, “Or do want plan to examine my backside, next?” – “Only if you’ve got a telling bruise there… or if you want your massage rather now than later.” – “Hm, I’ll take you up on that offer - later. You look hungry again.”
“Oh yes,” she made her way back up, taking his penis back into her mouth. Taste and scent was in harmony there. She really liked that - minus the roses, suckling happily. “Slowly, little butcher,” he groaned and she raised her gaze to look at his face, “turn around, I want to taste you as well,” he reached over and ran his fingers over the inside of her arm, ushering her to loom over his chest while she continued to taste and lick him, but slowly, mindfully.
He submitted to her attention at a safe pace and got himself a close up of her behind. He slid a finger to open her moist slit and licked her gently. She shivered. His cheek was rough against her thigh and she was so sensitive there. He explored her every fold gingerly, pawing the firm globes lovingly whenever he changed his hold. She moaned and he sunk his thumb into her, feeling lightly, pumping firmly. Oh yes, he wanted to take her that way, too, mount her from behind like a lucky mutt and release all inhabitations.
She groaned and pushed her butt out to his touch. His teasing and prodding and testing felt really good but finally she wanted more and told him so. She turned around, never leaving his member out of her hand as she rose to guide him into her entrance and impaled herself on his straining manhood, tilting her hips and breathing deeply. The muscles in her thighs pulsed under his palms as she rocked him gently to adjust to his grit. He ran his palms up her sides, roamed carefree as she took him like she wanted and she did so enthusiastically.
He plucked and played on her nipples and felt her insides contract at his stimulation. It did not work that way with his raised scarred tissue, but his nipples were so sensitive, she could feel him twitch deep inside. She dug her fingers firmly into his shoulders, changed her angle to quicken her pace, rock him harder deep inside her. This felt so good, he groaned and let her take him further, gently slowing her with his thumb brushing on her nub ever so lightly.
She was close but he did not want her to come just yet, just to accustom to his grit on her own accord. He wanted her to feel thoroughly comfortable and embrace his personality-traits fully. She had to accept his presence deep inside and feel the intense need for him to fill her before he could take this other direction, open up that blocked path for them. There, she rocked him harder again, her long hair flying as she danced on his pole. He steadied her with his palms around her slim waist, watched her handful sized breasts and pert nipples bounce. He listened to the rush of her human heartbeat, far quicker than his, hot flowing excitement that appealed to his refined senses.
She felt him grow further, felt herself accustom, their bodies joined in the quickening and slowing pace of a rondo - almost one being, one endless circle. When they had slowed with just enough movement to make them aware of each other, Geralt sat up fluently, holding her in his lap. He kissed her deeply and rocked her lightly as she leaned back against his thighs. He had been her stage, now he had risen like a wave and was suddenly all around her, her sweat moist skin in friction with his coarse hair. He quickened the pace and she hooked her ankles in the small of his back. Her palms fluttered over his biceps and shoulders as he hugged her close again, enfolding her, his large palms smoothed over her back, massaging and learning her slender waist, every raise of her sensitive ribs and the ridges of her spine.
While she enjoyed the feel of his hands on her back, her lips and teeth explored his corded neck; she omitted the scar on the right side of his neck and concentrated on the hard angles of his chin and the velvety roughness of his jaw. He raised her higher to kiss her deeply, and then rolled them over to the side. He lowered her back on the sheet and adjusted their position on the bed. She had clung to him tightly, now she unlocked her hold and he explored the new spots he could stroke on her inside.
His hands wandered over her hips and thighs, to the back of her knees as she opened up. He put the additional leverage to good use, groaning, rocking and straining, welcoming the draft of the door as it cooled on his back, a feather light sensation running down his spine. Not yet. “Slowly,” he eased up and raised her legs up on his shoulders, pumping slow and deep, smiling down on her, knowing how much she loved to see him, let her watch her fill. She was so soft and delightfully flexible, her feet playing tricks above his shoulder.
He shivered and reached down, pinching a nipple in return, pulling his manhood out slowly through her firm entrance muscles as she raised her head and tightened to hold him. She wanted everything. “You so know me,” he chuckled and quickly stabbed a bit deeper again, teasing her and made it purposefully hard for her to get him. He held her by the backs of her knees, folding up her legs against her chest. She opened up, and he teased her shameless openness some more. As he finally withdrew nevertheless she moaned in frustration, but he winked with an approving grin, “Turn around and I will give it to you again.”
He pushed her knees over to the side and she came up on her hands and knees quickly, shaking with unfulfilled need. Her foot pushed along the outside of his knee and calf as she slid backwards deftly to meet him. She so needed him to fill her again. Now. At once. “Geralt, please,” she pushed her butt up wantonly and he obliged happily, driving into her hot deep cavern he had grown to know so well. This was no longer artful tease but deep, solid connection. Her mind was still filled with the feeling of him before, grown and embedded inside of her. She wanted it back! She joined with him, groaning, moving against him and taking him all the way.
She so needed this and he let go of all concerns, holding her by the hips lightly as he rocked her and she bounced in his hold. He no longer slowed carefully but took her step by step to higher paces. He simply tapped into his extreme resources of power and speed until she shattered all around him. He pawed her butt, felt his manhood twitch deep inside her contractions as he let it go. He bucked hard, then threw himself over her and supported his weight on a hand beside her head. He dug his face into her dark silky hair and inhaled her human female scent. It came enticingly perfumed by she-dog-in-heat and drove the animalistic aspects of his mutated senses mad. His teeth grazed her shoulder as he groaned out his release.
She did not freeze this time; she just held his weight as he came down. It was easy because he surrounded her, their breath and bodies still united. She felt his tensed pectorals and abs relax with their breath. His massive bulk became plush and warm against her back as he straightened out a bit to dislodge gently. He slid down alongside her shoulder and pulled her against him to rest. “This is how it feels alright,” he mumbled into her hair and brushed the strands from his face. She stayed like this and savored the moment, then turned and pulled the blankets up and around their shoulders.
“More than alright,” she smiled and turned into him to kiss him good night.
-oOo-
The candles had burned down, but the remaining water hummed in the hearth and the logs had long stopped cracking in the fire. Velita woke and straightened very gently, to let Geralt sleep through the night after he had given her everything... or so she thought. His low breathing rate remained unchanged but his hands went with her at once and followed her every move gently until she was above him. She could not see his eyes in the dark but he was awake and flopped over on his back, pulling her on top of him firmly. “Road toll – one kiss,” he announced. She wiggled to find him in the dark and her lips picked up the smile her ears had already heard. He kissed her back deftly before he let go.
“Do you ever sleep?” she wondered – “It’s more like a nap. Do you have spare candles?” he let her out of his hold. ‘Thankfully you know your place like your pocket’ he thought and watched her rummage around in the darkness. He could see the candle well enough and snipped a tiny Igni over once she had straightened up. “Oh!” surprise lit her face as the golden flame bloomed up in her hands, “Thank you,” she smiled, “that’s great.” She picked a lantern from the ceiling and put the candle inside. Warm light flooded the saddle chamber. “I just put fresh logs on and refill the water.” She had a drink of the fresh water and passed Geralt the cup as well. Then she grabbed the tankard and her mantle, slipped in her wooden clogs and went out into the frozen moonlight.
Dew was on her mantle and a cold draft entered with her as she came back in. She put the mantle on the hook, got a ladle of the boiling water from the hearth before she refilled the warm water storage to keep the compartment from cracking as the adobe oven powered up again. She mixed the water to a comfortable temperature and washed her hands and genitals quickly. Geralt had not gone back to sleep, his amber eyes were awake and took in her every move with interest. She passed him a wet cloth as well and he rubbed himself clean briefly, throwing the cloth back at her to put it on the pile at the door.
He raised the blanket invitingly “Come back in.” - “I like to come home like that,” she smiled and snuggled up to him. She basked in his embrace; her palm stroked his back, her knee nudged between his thighs. Soon she was warmed up and he could make a proposal, “If you cannot sleep anyway, I won’t mind your massage now.” –“I’d like that.” she got up briefly. He kicked the blankets down and settled on his stomach.
The scent of sage and rosemary joined the roses as she rubbed her hands warm before she even touched his back. Her palms scouted over his back, sides and shoulders. She explored with slow firmness then straddled the small of his back to give his neck and shoulders her full attention. He relaxed with his entire senses alert.
Her thumbs and palms that pressed firmly while her other digits smoothed the surrounding muscle. Her smooth thighs brushed along his waist as she moved her upper body and put her back into the massage. Her calves had settled along his hips but her groin rubbed against the small of his back with fresh moisture and a most appetizing rhythm that restored her inner muscles’ tightness. Thankfully, he did not have to decide which was better. At times, insomnia was a gift. He could have it both.
She rose up and moved over his butt as she massaged further down his back. The blockades in his lumbar spine were gone so she would just give his buttocks her full attention and not pull his feet again. The friction her assertiveness brought to his groin readied him further, but he would not unseat and tumble a pro before she was done. ‘Worry not, Jeff, your blushing girl bride is perfectly safe while I get to savor Velita’s degree of experience and full hearted attention, over and over.’ Oh, she could be such a tease; her nipples nudged the back of his knees as her palms massaged up the long lines of his inner leg muscles that were toned from riding.
She prowled further upwards to smooth along his warmed up delta muscle and work her way along his shoulder and mighty bicep as she knelt by his side. She felt for the counterpart on the back of his arm that pulled tight whenever his blade struck, kneaded and eased the muscle. He unlocked his elbows from under his forehead and let her lavish her attention on his lower arms that were sinew and had been enchased by gauntlets all day that had the annoying tendency to ride down and press on his wrists. She could not smooth away the calluses and bruises, but revive his skin with her gentle touch.
She knew what she was doing, intimately so. It made him wonder if she had been in love with a warrior before and how that fit into her story of her lady’s monastery. But then, she bore no marks of child births as recent as a decade, she did not question him and he let her have her way. Yet he would not let her climb over his back to his other arm. He just patted her knee and turned over himself.
He wanted to look at her while she gave his left arm the same attention she had given his sword arm. His calloused wrist rested on her hip easily until he knew she was done. Smiling he ushered her into his embrace. “Thank you,” he smiled and kissed her. “I really enjoyed that.”
Velita felt his slightly more callous right palm smooth her ribs. She moved over and into his touch and spread her weight on him evenly and comfortably. She kissed him back and he listed to her heartbeat. It had slowed notably while she worked him over. She had not exerted herself, just felt the calm and relaxation in her heart and let her hands pass on the feeling to him. Time had lost its meaning. She was light and soft and warm. Even though she was sleepy after such a long day, she willingly opened her thighs to provide the relief his straining manhood proudly required.
He felt the long smooth lines of her abs and soft roundness of her breasts slide over his hardened and partly insensitive skin as she inched down to meet him. She had learned his body and yet she had no clue what he had in store for her. She might have been afraid of his potential, but unknowing as she was, she came across so naïve, generous and trusting, it made him smile.
He could show her speed, plunder her treasure quickly in a satisfying romp, then watch a sleeping beauty for hours and get bored due insomnia. Or show her stamina, take her from one peak to the next until she was worn out and begged him to stop, watch her walk funny in the morning and feel like a beast. Or he could show sensibility, take her slow and sample her offerings endlessly until her body made a decision for them and shut her down one way or the other. He liked the last one best.
His manhood poked her entrance and she centered herself. He tilted his hips gently and she took him deeper. He felt her inhale, tighten briefly in welcome, then exhale and relax to adapt to his grit finally squirm a bit for more. Only then he would ease another inch into her to indulge her further, building a very slow rhythm that knew only one direction – deeper. He rested his callous palms on the small of her back. He would always let her straighten up and ride him as she pleased. He just held her to him easily to let her know that he did not require her to do anything else for him. That he wanted nothing but to embed himself deeper in her hot sheath... and she was oh, so willing. She made little breathy sighs and tiny moans and he would repeat what he was doing just to hear the best of noises over and over.
Velita, who had a dozen errands on her mind all the time was finally allowed concentrate on one single aspect – so prominent that nothing else mattered. He watched her as her femininity became the spot of sole importance. He had done next to nothing and still he could feel her sweet spot rejoice over his treat. A sheen of sweat formed on the small of her back, under his hands. Embracing him, she rested her cheek on his sternum and listened to the slow drumbeat of his heart. He sounded good, looked good, felt good and smelled good. Their bellies were joined with warm relaxation. His coarse body hair tickled her cleavage as he twisted his hips just slightly to adjust his angle within her and push deeper.
On the outside, it looked like she would fall asleep any moment. On the inside, he had her impaled and stretched to the point she would not dare to squirm for more.
She had invited every movement, ushered him to come in and make himself comfortable and he had embedded himself like he owned that secret chamber, shouldered into that comfortable place and filled her up. She found herself stuck in the heated canyon between the impossible and the unavoidable, yet the touch of his hands remained light and soothing. She groaned deeply and remained unmoving, full and fully aware of him inside and around her, hard and gentle at once. A wave of moisture welled up from her core. She knew he had felt it too, because he withdrew gently and drove into her - once in a while like bathing in the juices she generously provided.
Her acceptance was so sweet he could bask in it forever, breath in her arousal as he held her to him, the silken texture of her skin against his was soothing like a stream of warm welcome. He was sheathed deep within, had her pinned. Her excitement fluttered all around him like nervous butterflies. And then her hungry appetite flooded around him like a dark ocean. He let her swallow him and added just a little friction to spice up the gritty stretch.
She felt she had to do something by the interconnection. But once she decided to move and let her hips pick up the inspiration Geralt provided, she found that in the meantime, her insides had developed their own scheme. One that went even beyond her well versed controls. She huffed as she felt a first ripple deep inside. He smirked at her surprise and ran his palms up her spine and down her sides. Afterwards he just rested his hands on her buttocks. He felt her tighten around him instead. Afterwards and only then, he returned that squeeze on her butt approvingly. She chuckled but stilled as the sensual feeling spread like wild fire.
It was amazing what Velita could do when she put her mind on it. But it was also amazing to watch her still and go with the flow as she savored her inner motions that where usually lost to the heat of the action. “Beautiful feeling, isn’t it?” – “Yes,” she agreed and watched in amazement as he played it easy with her, prompting a squeeze now and then. Being inside a woman really was his favorite pastime, especially after slaying a monster. His full attention on her drove all nightmarish memories from his mind.
Time flew by in the most enjoyable way but finally, she could take it no more. ‘Three days a guest, afterwards a stress,’ he thought as her inner sanctum finally went mad around the intruder in one huge nervous reaction. He reveled at her inner ferocity that strangled his member until all her locks had released and she slumped over him. While he had not reached a peak, he had experienced the full urgency of her need like an ocean wave and as that waned, his manhood softened like she did. He pulled her up his chest to kiss her good night as he slipped out of her gently to let her sleep some more.
-oOo-
Geralt had turned on his side after a while, settled her down on the sheet so he could extinguish the lantern and safe the candle for his next Igni. She had just curled up when he laid with her again, the back of her head against the inside of his upper arm, her long hair a warm curtain on his elbow. In a dream she had flung her arm over his chest and clung to him with a sob. The flames inside the oven had devoured the wood and settled into a glow among the ashes, there was barely enough left to rekindle the fire. Geralt lifted her arm off his chest gently and pulled his arm out under her hair carefully, but she woke nevertheless. She flung her thigh over his legs with a soft groan and straightened her back to climb over him. “Sorry,” she pushed him down on the sheet, “I’ll do it.” she mumbled in the dark, but found her mantle nevertheless. She more stumbled than stepped into her clogs and out into the dark.
She made short process with the fire and was back under the sheets with him in no time. He felt her cold feet against his shins and turned on his left side as she settled into the same spot as last time between the wall and his muscular body. By instinct, he would never let his women sleep in the line to door or even take his protective position from him. He hooked his ankle into the back of her knee, pulled her small foot on his calve and settled his right leg on top to warm her feet.
She smelled of smoke, wool and lemon balm, sage and rosemary and his own mating scent. The oven held the cold outside quite well. Nevertheless he pulled the blankets higher and stroked her back gently, exploring the long lines of her trim body. Her mind was drifting, her body was satisfied but her feet remained cold. He felt her shiver and her face nudged against his pectoral, seeking his warmth. He did not mind, but the heat he transferred wasn’t sufficient when her inner fire burned so low. Living on the carrots, onions and the beans she grew, the gardener would not starve, but she didn’t get to build a proper reserve like he did. A fatty and meaty nutrition was preferable before going up as high as Kaer Morhen for winter.
He decided to rekindle her inner flame and make her eat a hearty breakfast like the one she had provided him.
She was half asleep as he pulled her close to his chest and moved his knee up her thigh to the hip and turned her over. He landed her in the middle of the bed, or so she guessed as he loomed over her in the dark. Her hands came up to his chest, questioning for his position. He nudged his other knee between her thighs as well, making his intention clear. She inhaled sharply in surprise. “I’m not easily satisfied,” he explained and felt her thighs open willingly. He would not consider that as a matter of course, but as a blessing in an hour well past midnight. Her smooth skin stroked along the coarse hair outside of his thighs when he supported himself on his elbows beside her head.
He felt her palms turn on his short ribs and run further down his relaxed belly. One hand scouted down to his package and found him two thirds erect, “I can feel that,” she confirmed and approved. He kissed her smiling lips expectantly. Apparently, she liked what she felt, since her hand closed around his penis to stroke him to full hardness before she guided him to her entrance. He entered her as smoothly as a hot blade went into butter and set an easy pace immediately. She moaned and clung to him, her hips in tune with his. He spent no time with artful explorations but went for a basic build-up strategy of deeper, harder and swifter to fire them up and shove them over the edge in one rapid, merciless effort.
Afterwards, she was totally spent and warmed from head to toes while he felt properly satisfied and ready to surmount his insomnia.
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Sleeping Beauty Reloaded