Alaric found her shyness endearing. After a brief hesitation, she leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.
"You were curious that night," he said, his tone softer now. "I simply let you in."
"Thank you for scaring the hell out of me," she teased with a laugh.
"You were adorable," he admitted, a dreamy smile playing on his lips.
She didn't respond, instead focusing on massaging his head again, her touch light and deliberate.
"I've been trying to find a passage to another realm," Alaric began after a long pause.
Her hands slowed slightly as her interest piqued. "Your origin?"
"Perhaps," he murmured, resting more fully on her lap. "I believe there's a place where my kind dwells—hidden, distant. I've been searching for a way to reach it for years."
"It must feel so lonely," she said softly, her heart aching for him. "To be the only one like you."
"It was easier when chaos surrounded me," he admitted, his voice tinged with melancholy. "I suppose they retreated while I got caught up in the fight."
"They retreated home without you," she whispered, the sadness in her tone making his chest tighten.
"It's not the first time," he said, shifting slightly on her thigh to face her.
She frowned, her hand pausing briefly. "You go to war for them, and they abandon you?"
"Don't feel bad," he replied, his voice calm. "I think it's in my nature to thrive in that kind of isolation."
Her fingers moved to cradle his face, her touch warm and gentle. "I was so scared you wouldn't come back."
"I will always return to you," he declared, his gaze steady and filled with promise.
"And I will always wait for you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
The room fell into a comforting silence as she resumed massaging his head. His breathing slowed, his body relaxing completely under her care.
She smiled softly, watching as his features softened in sleep. Her own movements grew slower until her hand stilled, her head resting against the couch.
Before long, she too drifted off, his head cradled on her thighs, their hair mingling like dark silk.
The rain continued its persistent rhythm outside, wrapping them in its gentle, soothing embrace.
When Alaric woke, the first thing that captured his attention was the intoxicating whiff of arousal lingering in the air.
It was unmistakably hers, sweet and heady, pulling him out of his own haze. His wife's chest rose and fell in the steady rhythm of sleep, her heart beating gently in tune with the quiet of the rain outside.
He realized then how he had left her earlier, untended and unsatisfied, before succumbing to sleep himself.
Her scent was a reminder of her restraint, and while they still had much to discuss, the temptation to indulge her now—fully and entirely—was undeniable.
Turning his head, he kissed the thigh that had been his pillow, his lips lingering on her soft skin. The delicate heat of her body teased his senses.
Slowly, Alaric rose, twisting to face her.
Her lips were slightly parted, her features calm but flushed, her beauty accentuated by the faint moonlight spilling into the room.
He brushed his index finger against her cheek, marveling at how serene she looked.
Yet even as she slumbered, her body spoke volumes to him—she had been waiting for him, needing him.
A small smile tugged at his lips. He would make this interruption worth it.
With measured patience, he trailed his fingertips down to her ankles, moving upward along her calves and knees, lifting her dress inch by inch as he went.
Goosebumps rippled across her skin, her body reacting instinctively to his touch.
Reaching her thighs, he bunched her dress higher, folding it just above her waist. Her scent grew stronger, more potent, and it sent a ripple of hunger through him.
Alaric began kissing the tender flesh of her inner thighs, inching closer to his destination with deliberate slowness.
A shiver coursed through her, her body stirring faintly as the sensation began to rouse her.
He smirked against her skin, watching as she shifted, her back arching ever so slightly.
The motion exposed her glistening core, and his breath hitched at the sight. She was divine—perfection laid bare before him.
Unable to resist, he gripped her thighs firmly, drawing her closer to the edge of the couch.
Her hips lifted slightly, her body instinctively presenting itself to him, even in sleep. The weather, it seemed, had lulled her too deeply to wake fully just yet.
Alaric brought his fingers to her slick folds, parting them gently. She shuddered, a soft moan slipping from her lips.
The sound made his smirk widen, his hunger sharpening.
With his thumb, he circled her sensitive nub, drawing a breathy sigh from her. But it wasn't until he heard her voice—soft and laden with wonder—that his name spilled from her lips.
"Alaric…"
The sound was his undoing. He grumbled a low reply before lowering his head, his tongue darting out to tease her swollen nub.
It quivered under his attention, rising to meet him as if desperate for more.
Salviana gasped, her hips jerking reflexively as pleasure jolted through her. "Ahh, Alaric!" she moaned, her eyes fluttering open.
Before she could fully grasp her surroundings, he ran his tongue from north to south, the sensation leaving her utterly shocked and breathless.
She shot up instinctively, but his strong hand pressed gently against her belly, anchoring her back down.
"That's—ahh!—too much, Alaric!" she cried, her hands gripping the cushions. "I can't stay still!"
He chuckled against her, the vibrations sending another shiver through her body. "Welcome back, fiery," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction before returning to his ministrations.
His tongue moved with devotion, licking, teasing, and sucking with relentless precision.
One hand reached up, kneading her breast through her dress, while her own fingers tangled in his hair, pressing him closer.
The irony of her actions wasn't lost on him—her earlier gentleness now replaced by desperate need.
"Alaric…" she whimpered again, her body tightening, her pleasure cresting.