Chapter 3 - Witcher Storm III

III

 Yennefer woke up alone. The bed was the same, that much she knew, though the candles were now out. Her body was now totally naked. But someone had taken the care to cover her up to her neck and tuck her in for warmth and comfort, and even went so far to leave bread, honey, and a pitcher full of wine. The bread had been cut down into small and dainty pieces, while the pitcher came accompanied by a slender, ornamental glass. 

 The witcher... Geralt? He did this? Her cold and little black heart skipped a beat at the thoughtfulness of it all. 

 She got up and stretched, feeling rested for the first time months. She spooned some honey into her mouth without bothering with the bread, then gulped wine straight from the pitcher. It trickled from the ends of her mouth down her chin, and finally down her chest. 

 Why did people always assume she would be some delicate princess? My act must be very good. If only they knew the real me... 

 For a time she wondered whether or not she should be allowed to leave the cabin. But since no one came down to see her, she decided to put on her clothes and go for a stroll. 

 The whole crew stared at her as she went past, ogling her every move in awe and fascination. Yennefer could find neither Geralt nor Triss. She went along the railing, casting her gaze over the dark and roiling waters. Waves crashed against the hull, their spray reaching all the way up to her face. A different ship might've faced difficulty navigating these waters, but the warship seemed to be as resolute as a force of nature.

"Storm's chasing us," said Geralt at her back.

 Just the sound of his voice made her skin prickle. "Is it? Or is it chasing you?" 

 He came to stand at her side, his long white hair fluttering in the winds. "If you do try to kill me, make sure you don't kill yourself at the same time." 

"Oh, don't worry. If I wanted to kill you, you would've been dead already." 

 Geralt gave her a sidelong glance. "What's stopping you?"

 Yennefer remained silent. She had plans of her own that went beyond him, but... it was hard to deny she was more likely to protect him now than kill him. To hell with it! How could she get attached to people so quickly? And to her captor, of all people... To a damned witcher. 

 Geralt couldn't read much from her passive expression. She seemed thoughtful now, neither aggressive and taunting nor playful and acting it up. It was strange, to be next to her. The nobility of her profile and the beautiful way in which she carried herself brought home all his personal misgivings. Despite the theatrical attitude, this little time they spent together managed to convince him of one thing: she wasn't all that bad.

 Which is the last thought you should be having right now. Geralt looked away from her and leaned against the railings. At first he thought they were outrunning the dark clouds that came from behind, but now he felt unsure. Every day, they came a little closer, more as if following and playing with them than anything else. The last thing you need right now is your heart, you fool. 

 Yennefer's hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Are you feeling all right?" The warmth and sudden concerned made him jump. 

"I always am," he said coolly. 

"I've noticed I've been let loose."

"For now."

 She smiled unpleasantly, and dropped the hand down to his arm. "I wondered if we could speak about the other night. In private." 

"Maybe later." 

"Tonight." Her tone seemed pointed and final. Steely. Yet the gaze of her narrow eyes looked imploring. Needy.

 Geralt shook off her arm and turned. "We'll see. For now go back to your cabin. Best you don't distract the crew up here." 

 He left before Yennefer could say a word and went wherever he could, so long as he could get away from her. He exchanged laughs and jokes with the men, studied the approaching storm anxiously, ate and drank whatever he could find, lost some personal trophies over gambling that he hoped to recover, and avoided going back to his cabin at all costs. Geralt knew what would happen if he did. 

 When the night finally fell, he went after Triss and took her down to the cargo hold. There were no lights. The rats scurried at their feet in the darkness, while the floor pitched under their feet with every crashing wave and made the wood groan worryingly. 

"What are we doing here?... I can can barely see."

 Geralt placed his finger to her mouth and slowly lowered her down to her knees. He held onto her hair as he shoved his white cock into her mouth and throatfucked her hard enough to make her pull away in tears.

"Calm down!" said Triss, pushing him away. "What's wrong with you?" 

 And yet, all he could think of was that damned sorceress still. Why had he been so weak the previous night? All he could think about now was the way she felt in his arms and the look on her angelic face as she came. Not to mention that everywhere he went, he seemed unable to escape the stupid scent of lilac and gooseberries. Her smell. Yennefer... 

"I'm sorry," he told Triss, giving her an apologetic kiss on the forehead. She did nothing to deserve this. 

 Geralt forced his cock back inside his pants. It shifted and pulsed uncomfortably, torturing him with the thought of Yennefer's softness caressing it. Of all people, he knew all too well that monsters should never be put in a cage. It only takes so long until they escape. No, monsters needed to be cured, and if necessary, killed. 

 He sent Triss on her way despite her protests and slept the night in the cargo hold. Just one more rat. 

 The next day was the same, except now he ordered the men to keep an eye on Yennefer and alert him if she went out for a stroll. And in that way, he managed to avoid her completely. 

 Ironically, the more he tried to get away from her, the more she seemed to bury her way into his mind, and her presence became overwhelming. He couldn't focus on anything. Mostly because he wanted to do nothing else but charge into that room and take her. The worst part was knowing she wanted it too. And knowing that he could've made her feel hurt bothered him even more.

 All these feelings. All so sudden. What is wrong with you? 

 That night he went back to sleep to the rats, only to wake up to Yennefer's breasts pressed against his face. They were warm and soft, and their cleavage made for a welcoming home. She caressed his head and squeezed them between her arms, running the nipples across his skin... 

 A loud crack made him look up to her face. "Yenn?"

 He came out of the dream confused by the surrounding blackness. One of the crates had gone loose and smashed against the hull. Isn't that just my luck? Better had it smashed against his head and ended his misery. 

 Sleep wouldn't come again.

 Geralt got up and wandered the decks, trying to find something to do to take his mind off of her. He preferred not even to think of her by name.  

 Yet, as he focused all of his energy on keeping her off his mind, he suddenly found himself at the door of his cabin. He hadn't even planned to go there. Not intentionally anyway. And just as he decide to leave immediately, he instead tried the door. It was open. He sighed in anger. Don't you know enough to lock it and keep yourself safe? He would have to talk to her about that. 

 He found her lying in bed, fast asleep and completely naked. There was no snoring, but her open mouth breathed with difficulty. Her covers had fallen away from her chest, leaving her breasts out in the open. Full and creamy, touched only by the soft light of the candles. 

"It's not safe to sleep with them burning like that," he whispered.

 But those few quiet words were enough to make her stir. She stretched, and slowly opened her sleepy eyes. "Geralt?"

"I'm just checking up on you. You left the candles burning."

 She frowned thoughtfully. "I don't like to be alone in the dark." 

 No, you don't belong there. But I do. "Just be careful."

"I wouldn't have to be if you were here with me." 

 Out of nowhere, the ship groaned and pitched violently, sending Geralt tottering down towards the bed. He stopped short of falling on top of her... but only just. He meant to step back when Yennefer grabbed his wrist. 

 Her eyes held him breathlessly. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. Not from his either. Yennefer's eyes beseeched him, and her hold slowly relaxed. Geralt stayed in place. Her lips curved in a smile that might've been imperceptible to anyone but a witcher. 

 Then she blew out the candles. 

 She helped him undress as they kissed, his hands so eager to feel her body that he let her do most of the work. Geralt couldn't decide what do first. He grabbed at her soft ass, kneaded her breasts, ran his fingers down her tummy all the way to her wet pussy, and pulled on her hair as he kissed her neck, lips, chest, ears... 

 It all seemed to happen in a heartbeat.

"Witcher..." she whispered, sounding both eager and apprehensive. 

"Sorceress..."  

 She tittered in the darkness. Her hands found his rock-hard cock and gripped it possessively. 

"Geralt..." Her voice trembled with need. 

"Yennefer." 

 Geralt positioned himself on top of her and pushed his cock inside, coming down to connect their tongues in a crazed making out. He stroked her face lovingly as every muscle in his body worked at pummeling into the depths of her pussy. Yennefer murmured words of love and wrapped her arms and legs around him, her long nails sinking into his skin as the power and speed of his thrusts increased. 

 She shivered under him and bit at his shoulder. With a sultry, breathless whisper she announced: "I love you, Geralt." 

 He thought he hadn't heard her right. Why did you have to say that? Out of all the things she could've said, she managed to find the worst words for the worst time. Too fearful to say it back, and almost angry at her open affection, he brought his hands down around her neck and brought her under his complete control. 

 Yennefer submitted gladly, allowing him control over all of her, from her womb to her neck. She scratched down into his skin, ripping it apart, marking herself on his body, while she gave herself to him in every way possible. 

 Geralt couldn't see her, and he was glad of that. Whatever look was on her face might've defeated him. Or knock some sense into me. 

 Instead, he only pushed his cock in again and again, feeling it hit the innermost corners of her being, feeling her body trying to get away from his grip and the violent, reckless fucking he brought down upon her. 

 Her hands came up to his, trying to release his hold on her neck, but Geralt held on. He pummeled into her as hard as he could, till he could hear the splashes of her insides and sense her juices hitting his thighs, till her arms and leg began to kick at him, fighting him off in complete desperation yet failing just as completely. 

 He could've killed her in such a vulnerable state. 

 Instead, he pushed into her one final time with all of his strength, feeling her body arch and writhe under him, while he released all of his seed directly into her. 

 He fell to the side, releasing his grip. 

 Yennefer coughed and shivered in pain and delight, every little laugh being followed by a scream. Then she dropped breathless on the pillow next to him. "That was amazing." 

 Geralt felt more mentally tired than anything. With his stamina, he could've gone on all night. But all he could think about now was that he had sealed his doom. And possibly her own. But as gloomy as that prospect was, he felt an odd sense of release at knowing it was done and over with. At least the uncertainty disappeared. Now I know I'm screwed. 

 Yennefer put her head on his chest and cuddled him. "I don't know how you've done it witcher, or what ancient sorcery you've used, but you've gotten under my skin. Few men can say that." 

"Is that so?"  

 He ran his fingers through her hair and listened to her wistful fits of breath as she fell asleep as quickly as the night before. Not much for talking after the fact, are you? Yet another trait he rather enjoyed.

 Geralt felt oddly... happy. At peace. Definitely the wrong feelings. But he would allow himself to enjoy this one night, at least.

 He held her in his arms, seeking to fall asleep in turn, when his senses kicked in. He listened to to the noises of the ship and the rolling thunder outside, but he couldn't identify anything particularly wrong. 

 Then he heard it. 

 A loud snapping sound, as if a part of the ship itself were being cracked open. Geralt jumped out of bed, grabbed his sword and ran out completely naked in the mad rush. He could hear a few of his crewmen screaming now. 

 Is it the storm, or what? He couldn't understand.  

 He ran up the slippery steps that led to the top deck. The rain fell so violently that he could barely see in front of him. The black clouds that ran over the whole length of the sky obscured the predawn gloom, occasionally booming with loud thunder and unleashing bolts of thunder that lit up the rising tides and flurry of water that came from the sky. 

 The Exiled Moon had faced up to to the waves commendably thus far, but even she came under pressure now as the waters seemed to dip on their location only to smash into her with terrorizing waves that came all the way up to the deck. 

 Boom. Boom. Boom. 

 The thunder went off like giant cannons in the sky. 

 The maddened members of the crew ran over to him, waiting for orders. For the first time, Geralt had no idea what to tell them. Anything he could've said around the lines of trying to hold fast and stay afloat seemed painfully obvious. 

 All of a sudden, his captaincy seemed irrelevant, and his thinking as a witcher came to the fore. This was a deadly threat that needed to be stopped. But how the fuck do you kill a storm? 

 Yennefer came running on deck as well, gaping at the hell that had unleashed upon the world as far as the eyes could see. She only held a sheet to cover herself, but in mad winds and the terror of the moment, even that fell away from her weak grip and went flying in the current.

"Geralt..." 

"Go back down! Right now!" 

 She went up to him and barked into his ear. "You need to come with me. I need to try to get us out of here."

"And leave them all to die?" This new side of her he did not like. 

"Would it be better to perish along with them, witcher?"

 Geralt shook his head in disgust and turned away. 

"What are you going to do?" she yelled as he went off. "You aren't even wearing clothes, you damned idiot!" 

 But just as he fought to get over to the other side of the ship, a bolt of lightning flashed that illuminated a pillar to the left of the Exiled Moon. It took a few seconds of his mind reeling and for lighting to strike again for him to see the monolithic tentacle that had risen from the sea. 

 Before he could react, it smashed down onto the deck, and sent him sprawling. 

"GERALT!" howled Yennefer desperately, trapped on the other side of it. "Geralt!" 

 He swallowed the blood in his mouth and fought to rise on his feet on the slippery planks. Then he glanced around for his sword, painfully aware of the fact that he had taken nothing for all of this. A simple cat potion would've been immensely useful right now.

 But why would anything good ever happen? 

 At last he saw the glimmer of the sword in the low light and took it up, only to turn around and witness the host of tentacles wrapping themselves around the Exiled Moon, and threatening not only the crew... but Yenn.  

 Finally, he thought with genuine relief, something that can die.
