Jaskier's cock in it's neglected state is even more enthralling than first appraisal. Their motion makes it move and drag, no doubt a tease to him. Feeling it hard and slip against their bellies as she ruts into him makes her wonder what it feels like. Shame she cannot fill him while being full. She cannot be so greedy with these thoughts. This is so very, very much more than what she had assumed would become of her evening.

Sweat is gathering on her skin. Lilac and gooseberry perfume becoming more of a richer musk with the tones of sex in the air. The crisp, clean and sweet smell of the bard lending itself. Yennefer cannot stop watching him. Her grasp moves to be at his shoulders, letting her fingernails press half moons to his skin. If she had enough hands one would be for her tits, to follow the trail of slickness back up her thigh.

That tone, that arching of him pulls a gasp of wonder from her. "Again, do it again for me." Though it is more her actino than his own. "Yes, yes." Holding him down and rolling her hips, aiming the blunt cock tip where he needs it most. "Sing for me." Though no song of heartache or sweet kisses. Yennefer wants the avantgard ballad of his lust.