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The Midnight Lantern

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Winter was slow and harsh, like it always was. If it wasn't for the dangerous roads and freezing climate, you would have thought that the witcher had lied to you. That he wouldn't come back. Enough men had lied to you before that it wouldn't surprise you now. But those two words kept you hoping throughout the entire winter as you and the other whores took to sleeping huddled together. Every night you thought of what he said; every night was visited by a pair of golden eyes.

The witcher was intriguing. A curiosity that you needed to solve.

As news of the first thaw swept throughout the town, you couldn't help but be excited. Travel would flourish again, people would take to the roads now that the long winter had passed. And perhaps he would come back. You could then understand what it was that made him so reluctant to face you fully. Without a doubt, it was something to do with his... Nonhuman features. The treatment of witchers, though they were a necessity, was severely lacking in proper respect. They were rare nowadays. Whenever one came to town, that always meant trouble and poor luck was to be found. They were a constant reminder that humans couldn't solve all of their own problems alone. To have to rely on something that could just as easily kill you as kill the monster terrorizing you was frightening. And this witcher in particular seemed to understand the fear that he sowed with his presence. He actively tried to avoid contact with humans, from what you could gather. Only partaking in what was necessary. It almost made your heart weep.

It wasn't long after the thaw. You were in the foyer, talking and laughing with a group of women. All of you had been scanning the room for possible clients, sizing each man up and determining whether he was worth the trouble or not. The night was still young and you were loath to waste it, when the front doors to The Midnight Lantern opened. Everyone paused in their conversations to fix the new arrival with a curious gaze.

It was him.

He had come back.

Your heart raced and your fists clenched at your sides as you looked your fill of him. Both nights you had spent together were under the cover of darkness, and you couldn't remember any feature of his face besides his haunting golden eyes. But now, he was bathed in the warm lighting of the brothel. It softened harsh edges and dampened the effect of his dangerous appearance. His hair was still parted down the middle, messy on the right and covering just a scant portion of the angry scarring. He had no weapons, as they weren't allowed in the brothel. But you had no doubt that he could easily strangle anyone there with his bare hands. The silence took on a new meaning altogether once people realized there was a witcher in their midst. They glanced nervously at each other, especially the other men. The whores were mostly indifferent to his appearance, knowing that both times the witcher had visited he'd chosen you. There was a very small possibility of them having to service him for the night.

He scanned the room until his eyes landed on you. You attempted to keep your face schooled into that of neutrality at his appearance, resisting the urge to ogle his figure. His eyebrows narrowed almost imperceptibly and he tilted his head to the side just slightly.

"That your witcher?" One of the girls, Ilde, whispered to you as he approached. She looked him up and down. "Good luck." You wanted to snap at her, but stayed silent. He stopped in front of your little group and glanced at the other women before letting a small grin curve his lips, holding out a hand towards you.

"Would you join me for the night?" He asked. Your breath caught in your chest and you didn't even look at the others before taking his hand and leading him off. You kept an eye out for the Madame, eager to get him away and to a room before he could pay in advance again. That would only open up an opportunity for him to leave early. You already had the perfect room in mind for the two of you. Your favorite suite; Lavender. There was no doubt in your mind, he would enjoy it. There was a window that faced the river, and due to the room being on the third floor of the brothel there would be no prying eyes. Couple that with the lovely smell of lavender that permeated the room at all times, and you had a veritable mini paradise for the night.

"You returned," you said as you led him up the stairs and through the hallway.

"I said I would, I'd not lie to you." Your heart gave a heavy throb at that. Honesty, to a whore? It made you smile, even though he couldn't see it. You made it to the door of the Lavender suite and opened it, inhaling the scent that wafted out before stepping in. A soft tug on your hand alerted you to the fact that the witcher hadn't moved, though. Your brow furrowed and you turned around to face him with a questioning look. His mouth was pursed, nose wrinkled ever so slightly. It looked like he was about to cough.

"Is something the matter?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. He averted his eyes for a moment, like he was about to play it off like nothing was wrong.

"Just, ah... The smell," he sniffed then grimaced, "it's a bit strong." Really? It didn't smell strong to you at all. That was part of the beauty of this room. You turned back around and breathed in deeply, trying to determine if he was right or not. The room still smelled fine, the scent merely lingering instead of overpowering. Maybe his nose was sensitive? You looked back at him to see that he was still frowning, but now taking a step forward as if to follow you in. You set your jaw at that and left the room, shutting the door behind you and cutting off the scent immediately. The witcher raised his eyebrows in question.

"Your comfort is a priority. I'll just find another room," you said, looking away and already walking down the hallway to find a room suitable for him. Knowing that his sense of smell was sensitive gave you a few ideas. Definitely not the Rose, Daffodil, or Lily suites. Maybe... The closest room that wasn't in use was the Violet suite. Perhaps that could cater to him? You led the witcher there and opened the door, leaning forwards to sample the air with your nose. That was probably a fruitless endeavor, seeing as apparently his sense of smell was far superior to yours. But you still wanted to at least try. If you were able to smell something, then that meant he could probably smell it ten times stronger. There was nothing out of the ordinary; the room didn't have a scent you could discern. "Is this alright?"

"I..." An inhale. "Yes, it's fine. Thank you." A smile curled your lips at that and you shut the door, leaving the room in darkness once again. If he wanted there to be no light, then you would obey his wishes. You grasped both of his hands and began leading him towards where you assumed the bed was. The room was pitch black, and you couldn't remember as much of its features as the others. It was only a few steps before you tripped over a low table, falling backwards with a shout. Your grip tightened as you tried to no avail to steady yourself. But instead of falling to the ground and cracking your head on the table, an arm fitted itself around your waist and kept you upright. The witcher had caught you. Your heart thundered in your chest at the close call, and you pressed your body to him in order to distance yourself as much from the floor as possible. "Alright?" His chest rumbled as he asked you. You almost wanted to swoon, but decided against it as that may only distance him further.

It was hard to tell what would.

"Yes, um..." You planted your feet and stood up straight. "Thank you. Maybe you should lead the way," you laughed, squinting in the dark and trying to see his expression. He blinked and looked ahead, loosening the arm around your waist but still holding you close as he guided you to the bed. He was careful to let you know when there was an obstacle like an uneven rug. But you made it, and you fell back onto the bed in relief. "That was an adventure!" You playfully told him, rolling onto your side and patting the comforter. "How about we have another one?" You batted your eyelashes at him and bit your lower lip, raising an eyebrow.

"Isn't that why I'm here?" He asked as he sat down next to you. He leaned over to unlace his boots and toed them off before climbing fully onto the bed. The witcher loomed over where you lay, arms on either side of your head. His eyes shone in the dark, and you found yourself realizing just how much you missed their glow. He looked down then focused back on you. "Turn over." You stifled a displeased groan at that. Again? No lights, you could handle. But if he was stubborn in his want to rut against you without even deigning to grace you with the decency of seeing those gorgeous eyes then you were allowed to be annoyed. You exhaled and rolled over onto your stomach. He shifted behind you and you felt fingers tracing the laces of your corset. He picked at the knot and loosened it, pulling the ties away and opening the garb. You rose up onto your knees in order to allow him to remove it.

He hummed at the sight of your thin chemise, running his hands over the curve of your waist. He flipped the fabric over your rump, exposing your lacy undergarments and stockings. Another low hum, more of a growl at the edges. "These are nice." His hand ran down the length of your leg and curled around your ankle. His thumb rubbed circles on the gentle swell of bone. "Very nice." You pulled your lower lip into your mouth and arched your hips further, presenting yourself to him. He let out a groan at that and a few fingers dipped into the waistband of your undergarments before sliding them down your thighs. You could hear the witcher's breathing quicken and deepen as he surged up to his knees.

The cradle of his hips pressed to yours, and his hands slid up to grasp at your waist. They tangled in the fabric of your chemise and pulled you into him. He pushed the garment up and over your back, letting you attempt to remove it from your arms and head. You collapsed onto your elbows afterwards, chin resting on your forearms. A few short moans escaped bitten-red lips. The smooth leather of his codpiece thrust against the slick heat of your cunt. A wave of possessiveness rushed through you at the action. You wanted to mark him, claim him as yours. The thought shocked you to the core, but was shoved to the side when he drew away. You almost turned around in question as to what he was doing when he returned. You let out a gasp at the feel of his heavy cock pushing its way between your thighs, sliding across your wet folds. A desperate longing to have him inside of you coursed through your veins and you spread your legs, urging him to action.

"Please, I don't know how much more I can take," you pleaded as you pressed back against him. A low rumbling laugh permeated his chest; the first laugh you could ever recall hearing from the witcher. With every sound you so gently coaxed out of him you could only want more. More of his noises, more of his words, more of him. "I need you."

"Who am I to refuse a lady?" He asked, mirth curling the edges of his words as he finally, finally, guided himself into you. The stretch to fit him set your body aflame. The altered angle had him reaching almost unbelievably deep inside you. A whine bubbled up in your throat just as he responded with a growl. It didn't take long for him to start moving against you, hips meeting flush against yours before he pulled back and thrust in again. Your lips parted around panting breaths and you tilted your head to the side as it rested against your arms, closing your eyes and focusing on the sensations. This witcher was a talented lay, probably from countless years of practice. You couldn't get enough. His fingers were pinpricks of pleasure upon your flushed skin, grounding you.

You whimpered and rolled your hips, thighs quivering as he grunted behind you. The entire torturous winter had been worth it for this moment alone. Even if you never saw him again after this, you could look back on this as one of the best fucks you'd ever had by a patron. The fact that you were in a brothel no longer mattered; you didn't have to falsely play up your enjoyment for him. Not anymore. And the fact that he kept coming back certainly said something about your effects on him. Perhaps you were one of his best lays as well? You could only hope. "Fuck," he cursed, dragging out the syllable across a long and broken exhale. He leaned down over your back, the cool metal of his medallion resting between your shoulder blades.

His pace quickened and you could feel the length of his belt slap against your arse with every meeting of your hips. The loose buckle clinked incessantly, a sharp contrast against the low rumblings of the man behind you. You fisted your hands in the sheets below you and attempted to dig your face into the silky fabric as fire danced across your skin. One of his hands that had been previously gripping your waist suddenly shoved itself between your legs, fingers pressing firmly against your clit. He bit off a few moans close to your ear, breath coming in sharp pants. You bit down so hard on your lower lip that you worried you broke the skin for a moment, letting out one of the most desperate sounding whimpers you could ever recall making.

It was that noise that broke him.

The witcher choked on a groan, hips stuttering and finally slamming fully into you as he came. That drew a shouted cry from you; you tried to push yourself up onto your forearms only to end up pressing your back against his clothed chest. He buried his nose in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Hot breaths fanned against your skin and his fingers quickened their movement across your clit, drawing out another low whine from you. You wanted to follow his release so badly. The fact that he was trying so hard to get you to come as well ended up being what did it. Your toes curled and your brow furrowed, pleasure cresting and snatching you away on the tide. The witcher let out another low groan as he felt you flutter around him, making one more weak thrust before completely stilling once more as you rode out your orgasm.

Once your breath finally evened out, he pulled away and gently pushed you to lie down. You didn't resist, simply closing your eyes and letting out a deep relaxing sigh. He hovered over you for a few moments before you got tired of his frozen presence. Your hand blindly reached out to grasp at his arm, pulling until he settled next to you on his stomach as well. A soft smile curled your lips as you traced the tips of the studded spikes on the sleeves of his jerkin.

"Why don't you take that thing off and relax?" You asked, inhaling deeply. "You have yet to pay the Madame, and she would be most displeased if you were to leave without spending the full night." He tensed next to you for a moment, and your comfortable afterglow vanished immediately. Had that touched a sore spot? Was he ashamed for forgetting to pay and therefore locking himself in an inescapable situation? Had you read his intentions wrong? Did he merely want a quick and enjoyable fuck before departing?

"Clever of you, to know my routine so well." The tenseness in his body had dissipated, instead he sounded impressed. "It seems you have trapped me here, you wily succubus." You laughed at the comparison.

"You wish I was a succubus!" You opened your eyes to fix him with a playful glare. In the darkness you could just barely make out a smile across his lips. "Then I would have given you such a night to remember, you'd never want to leave." Your fingers trailed up to his shoulder, splaying across his upper back.

"Believe me when I tell you, that was nicer than any succubus could ever hope to achieve." A bolt of surprise shot through you. Your eyebrows raised and you fixed him with an incredulous look. You almost wanted to prop yourself up on your elbow and continue that vein of conversation, but the sudden bashful expression on his face stayed your tongue. So instead you smiled and ran a hand through his dark brown hair, twining the strands through your fingers. The molten gold of his eyes disappeared as he closed them, and a low rumbling slowly started to build up in his chest at your ministrations. You hummed and turned onto your side in order to face him more fully.

"I'll take that as a very high compliment."