Alarics vein was throbbing with desire for his wife, he hungered go racism her but he knew she was soft and with the amount of rain she'd had soak her before he came he couldn't trust her body not to weaken.
He needed to take care of her first.
Salviana loved the intimacy of this night and she didn't want it to end, she sighed and got comfortable in his arms she froze when she felt aware of her boobs rubbing his hard chest.
He nipples hardened and probed while she held her breath sharply, she missed Alarics smirk because she was busy trying not to feel the friction of their bodies touching.
Alaric stepped into the steaming pool of water, holding her securely. The heat of the bath enveloped them both as they sank into its depths with a shared sigh.
The warmth immediately relieved their bones of the fight it was raging against the cold.
Salviana leaned against his chest, feeling the tension leave her body as the water soothed her aching muscles.
She tilted her head up to look at him, at his perfect face, her fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest while he meticulously sniffed her like a hungry man.
"I missed you," she whispered again, her voice barely audible over the soft ripples of the water.
Alaric's arms tightened around her, his lips brushing the top of her head. "I know," he murmured. "I missed you too."
For a moment, they sat in silence, letting the warmth of the bath and the closeness of each other fill the voids left by their time apart.
Then Alaric moved, his large palm was no longer cold
Alaric gently set Salviana on the edge of the bed before moving to the fireplace. The soft crackle of flames filled the room as he added more wood, coaxing the fire to burn brighter and spread its warmth.
The flickering light cast shadows over his chiseled frame, every flex of his muscles a silent distraction for Salviana as she watched him with quiet awe.
Her green eyes widened slightly whenever his movements caused his muscles to shift, and she quickly glanced away, cheeks flushing.
Alaric turned back to her with a small bottle of skin oil in hand, his sharp features softened by the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Ready?" he asked, his voice low and steady.
Salviana blinked, her brows knitting together in slight confusion, making him chuckle under his breath.
She's adorable when she's overwhelmed, he thought, his heart swelling at the sight of her.
"Hands," he rumbled, extending his own.
Wordlessly, Salviana stretched out her arms, her skin pale and smooth in the firelight. His warm, calloused hands enveloped hers as he began to massage the oil into her skin, his touch both firm and gentle.
She sighed softly, her shoulders relaxing as his ministrations chased away the lingering cold.
Once he finished with her arms, Alaric pulled her to her feet.
Her breathing hitched as the room grew noticeably warmer—though she wasn't sure if it was from the fire's heat or the effect of his touch.
His fingers moved to the tie on her white robe, and he hesitated for only a moment before unfastening it.
The loose fabric parted slightly, revealing the soft curve of her collarbone and the swell of her breasts.
Their eyes met, green clashing with black, and time seemed to pause.
Alaric swallowed hard, his throat tightening as he bent to pick up the oil bottle. Unable to resist, he brushed his lips against her neck, lingering just long enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath.
Salviana shivered, her palm instinctively resting on his stomach. She felt the hard flex of his muscles beneath her hand, and something in his posture shifted.
She realized, in that moment, she wasn't alone in this shared hunger—the need to be touched, to connect.
Alaric's hands moved with purpose, applying the oil to her exposed skin.
When he turned her around, she followed his guidance without protest, enjoying the care he took with each stroke of his hands.
His large palms rested on her shoulders, his fingers slipping beneath the robe to gently tug it down.
The fabric slid off her shoulders, pooling at her feet. Salviana stood before him, entirely bare, her beauty illuminated by the golden glow of the firelight.
Alaric inhaled deeply, trying to focus on his task, but the sight of her made his resolve waver. The oil, meant to keep her warm, suddenly became an afterthought.
He leaned forward, his lips grazing her neck as he nibbled lightly. Her scent, sweet and heady with arousal, sent a low growl rumbling from his chest.
His arms encircled her waist, pulling her back against him. From behind, his hands found her breasts, his large palms cupping them as he pressed into her.
Salviana sighed, leaning into his embrace, her body relaxing against his warmth. But her need for his touch only grew, and she began to squirm, silently pleading for more.
Alaric trailed kisses along the curve of her neck, his lips leaving little nibbles in their wake.
He teased her ear with a soft lick, his hands kneading her breasts with a reverence that made her gasp.
"Alaric," she whispered, her voice breathy and soft.
At the sound of her voice, something in him snapped. He turned her abruptly to face him, their gazes locking.
Black met green, the flickering candlelight dancing between them, amplifying the intensity of their shared desire.
Her rapid heartbeat thundered in his ears, calling to him in a way he couldn't resist. He reached out, his hand cupping her left breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak.
Salviana's lips parted in surprise, her breath hitching as his touch sent sparks through her.
Still holding her gaze, Alaric's voice dropped to a whisper. "I can feel your heart," he murmured, his hand tightening slightly as if to draw her closer, to feel the very essence of her beneath his touch.
Her lips curved into a soft smile, and the expression only deepened the hunger in his eyes. His focus shifted to her mouth, darkening with unspoken need.