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Summary
“There are times I curse the trials for not making you invulnerable, Geralt,” Regis said, straddling Geralt’s lap like a lanky cat. Geralt peeked through hooded eyes, overwhelmed by Regis’ hands on his hips and Dettlaff’s curled around his ribs from behind. The higher vampire’s pupils were blown wide as Regis watched Dettlaff lap at the new set of impressions his teeth had left in the witcher’s shoulder – just this shy of breaking skin, angry and pinkened and puffy. “But it is times like this that I’m grateful for it just as well.”
“We vampires heal too quickly to share such luxuries with one another,” Dettlaff said, his voice like the roar of the ocean over sand; level, consistent and lulling. Geralt pressed his head back against the vampire’s shoulder and shivered in his grasp, eyes on Regis all the while.
aka - vampires heal too fast for hickies. good thing they've got geralt.