Admiring him now working with his eyes closed, the small lines in his brow are hardly an indicator of age, he lays before her so trusting. Yennefer kisses him again. Half committed, teasing and trailing. Tonight he had his breathing tested, best not suffocate the poor man. The soft, wet sound of his fingers working his tense body open is it's own lewd sort of music.

"Do you practice on your own?" Her lips smile and her tone is teasing. "I can see you have a natural skill." Teasing though her voice has gone lower and more rough. Yennefer's fingers draw lazy lines over him. A sigil or a runes, nothing harmful. Symbols of good luck and fortune. They are not charged with magic, more a want. May he be this perfect for all time. Her soft hand smooths down to his thigh before scratching up it's length. The pressure only draws shallow red lines, no blood.

"You're a sight, Jaskier." Shivering, and tense, nearly all of his small fingers fitting. Another kiss, still no savagery. "I want you so."