Legs over his strong shoulders, and the whole of her self to be ravaged does not lend herself to be the most coherent. It's a beautiful madness. Tension drawing tighter in her gut. Every pull and press of his cock and the way her skin warms and prickles to his attention.

When he is more upright again is when their bodies align just so. Yennefer can't clutch him so she has a hand in the bedding and another at her own tit. The next thrust in Jaskier's perfect sense of timing is punctuated by a moan. That's the right place. He's found it. And for every strike there after she is moaning for it. For him. His name has way more syllables than it ever had.

Verbal confirmation is grand but the hold around his cock is a ripple of tension until she is shivering. Her stomach, her legs both tighten and try to hold him somehow. A job well done for a cocksman such as himself.