The Sin Inn

"Oh," Ciri whispered, her eyes locked on Geralt's. "... Oh. Oh, fuck," she gasped out, and then again and again as his cock pushed its way into her slick cunt, forcing it wider than any man before Geralt ever had. The way it stretched her was so unbelievably perfect that she was immediately smitten with him, and it kept going and going, filling every inch of Ciri's little pussy. "Geralt," she groaned out, reaching up to wrap her arms around his back and scratch at his back through his shirt. "Geralt, your cock-- it's so fucking perfect, oh, fuck me..."

"That's the plan," Geralt grunted. Ciri couldn't help but giggle, but then his cock was pressing against her g-spot and that was anything but a laughing matter. It cut off with a ragged gasp, and on impulse she locked her ankles around his waist, making sure he had nowhere to go but deeper inside of her. If he stopped now, she knew she would go fucking crazy. She closed her eyes, biting down savagely on her bottom lip as he went deeper -- deeper -- so deep that she knew she wouldn't ever feel Geralt hilt inside her, he was simply too large.

She had never been so deliciously full before in her life. Ciri released her bottom lip and sucked in a breath, then whispered. "Geralt, fuck me." He didn't need to be told once, already beginning to pull out part of the way out of her cunt only to drive himself right back inside of her, each thrust driving the air out of Ciri in a sharp gasp or cry. More and more people were glancing towards their corner of the tavern, some with jealousy and others with knowing grins, but no one was going to interrupt them. Not in the Sin Inn, where those noises were commonplace.

Ciri was sure she was ripping through Geralt's shirt with his increasing fervent scratches and she was sure she was going to break her ankles with how hard they were locked around him, but none of that mattered. "Just like that," she beseeched him breathlessly as his pumping cock teased her hungry womb with a direct delivery. "Come on," she urged him, spurring him on with deeper rends of her short fingernails. "Geralt, fuck me. Fuck me and cum inside me!"

Really, she didn't need to tell him once, let alone twice. He pounded away at her pussy the same way he fucked any pussy, though Ciri's hole was by far the tightest and wettest he had ever impaled on his true silver sword. After several more quick thrusts, Geralt let out a raw growl and pushed himself into Ciri's limit, the crown of his cock brushing her cervix right as he erupted inside of her.

Feeling his thick sperm flood into her womb was the last push Ciri needed to cum again, a shiver running through her body that naturally found its way to her pussy. Her muscles clenched and milked every last drop of cum out of Geralt's shaft, her legs squeezing him hard enough that he was going to have bruises in the morning, just like she would. Not that either of them minded that; those bruises would make for a fond memory of the best fuck of their lives, at least for a few days.

Geralt slowly pulled himself out of Ciri, and though she wanted to cling to his body and keep him locked in place, she found herself feeling boneless and satiated. She let him go, and of course she didn't resist when he sat back against the booth wall and pulled her around until she was face first with his cock once more, laying on her stomach. Ciri grinned lazily and gazed up at Geralt's cock for a moment, the mess of cum on her face still sticky and dripping.

"Do you think we can do this every night?" she asked him in a low murmur, raising her calves and lazily kicking them back and forth as she reached for his cock, worshipping its tip with a little kiss before taking the crown into her mouth. She suckled on it in a way that drove most men crazy, a way that had most of them twitching right after an orgasm -- but of course fucking Geralt, the greatest Witcher in history, seemed immune to that. She found some gratification in how intent he grew, though.

Ciri resolved to find his weakness. She wouldn't find it tonight, she was sure of that, but over time, she was sure she would. She'd find a way to conquer the glorious old bastard's cock and body.

"Depends," Geralt drawled as he sat back, stretching his legs comfortably and lowering his hand to encourage Ciri to take his ever-hard cock just that little bit deeper into her mouth. "Do you think you can beat me in Gwent every night?" he asked her, his brows raising just a hair apiece.

As much as Ciri wanted to pop her lips off his cock and tell him to fuck off, her desire to suck his glorious cock and get another load of his hot mutant cum was far greater. She snorted through her nostrils and closed her eyes, setting to work without another word.

The succubus had the last laugh indeed, but neither of them would have complained if they knew what drove them to fuck that night -- or for every night that followed. They were destined for one another.