“Oh heavens, oh heavens,” sighed Yennefer, stretching and throwing a thigh over the Witcher’s. “Oh heavens, oh heavens. I haven’t made love for so long… For so very long.” Geralt disentangled his fingers from her curls without responding. Firstly, her statement might have been a trap; he was afraid there might be a hook hidden in the bait. Secondly, he didn’t want to wipe away with words the taste of her delight, which was still on his lips. “I haven’t made love to a man who declared his love to me and to whom I declared my love for a very long time,” she murmured a moment later, when it was
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