He didn't mind the rough tug, far more interested in snuggling against a strangely willing Geralt while he can. Knowing the Witcher could decide such affection was to much at any moment.
At the very least that had been his idea, but his words? Had his brain struggling to process that he'd said. Sputtering, this time in confusion. "What?!" Was all he could manage to splutter out. Gaze wide and blinking rapidly, as if not entirely sure he'd said such a thing out loud and not just in his constantly running imagination