Chapter 467: On His knees
"Then say no, Salviana, and I’ll stop right now. But if you don’t—if you so much as stand here for another breath—I’ll take it as yes."
Silence. Only the rush of the garden fountain, the scent of fresh blooms, and the sound of her racing heartbeat between them.
Salviana swallowed, her lips parting as if to speak...
But she said nothing.
Alaric’s smirk returned, softer this time, filled with both reverence and hunger.
"That’s what I thought."
And with that, the demon prince, the vampire feared by all of Wyfkeep, pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, reverent, worshipful, and hungry all at once.
Alaric’s lips ghosted over the inside of Salviana’s thigh, a feather-light kiss that made her entire body stiffen. The sound barrier shimmered faintly around them, sealing them in their private world where only their breaths, their hearts, and the soft rustle of leaves existed.
"Alaric..." Salviana whispered, her voice trembling, one hand clutching at his shoulder for balance.
"Shh, fiery wife," he murmured against her skin, his breath warm, his voice husky. "You’ve been teasing me since last night. Now, let me worship you properly."
She bit her lip, her pulse racing under his hands as they slowly slid up her legs. His grip was firm yet reverent, as if she were the only thing in existence that mattered.
"You’re on your knees for me..." she whispered, almost shyly, glancing down at him, and gods—he looked devastating like this. A demon prince, feared by an entire kingdom, kneeling for her like a devoted sinner at an altar.