Chapter 357: The Fight
The warmth of the hearth filled the room, casting flickering shadows along the stone walls, but Salviana barely registered it.
What stirred her from sleep wasn’t the crackling fire but the heat pooling between her thighs—the sensation of warm lips trailing over her skin, a soft yet deliberate pressure that sent a shiver spiraling through her spine.
Her heavy lids fluttered open, her breath catching in her throat as the scene before her became clear. Nestled between her parted thighs, Alaric—her proud, stubborn husband—was lavishing attention on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, his mouth moving in slow, torturous nibbles from one side to the other, inching closer to the aching heat at her center.
A gasp left her lips when his thumbs spread her open, exposing her most intimate place to his hungry gaze.
"Alaric?" she moaned, barely able to form his name.
His deep groan vibrated against her skin, sending another jolt of pleasure through her. "My fiery one," he rumbled, his breath hot against her core.
The room was warm, but Salviana felt like she was burning from the inside out. She was mostly bare, save for the thin sheet that had long since slipped down to her waist. The fire Alaric had stoked in the hearth was nothing compared to the one he was stoking within her.
"You said you weren’t interested," she managed to tease, but the words dissolved into a breathy moan when his mouth finally descended.
Alaric took his time. He was slow, deliberate, and devastatingly sensual. Salviana’s nipples hardened, painfully sensitive, begging for attention.
As if reading her thoughts, Alaric slid a hand up her body, his fingers capturing a peaked bud between his thumb and index finger, rolling and pinching it in time with the sinful strokes of his tongue below.
Her body arched in response, her breath coming in sharp, desperate pants.