Salviana smiled softly, almost dazed. "Then don't stop hearing me, Alaric."
His answering grin was small, almost boyish despite the darkness in his eyes.
"Careful, fiery wife," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers again, "because I might just never stop."
Salviana was still catching her breath, her cheeks flushed from the tender kiss when a thought slipped out before she could stop herself. Her fingers curled into his tunic, and she looked up at him with wide, hesitant eyes.
"Alaric…" she whispered.
"Hm?" His voice was low, his thumb brushing lazily across her lower lip, his gaze still fixed on her like she was the only thing that existed.
Her heart fluttered wildly. "If… if I asked… could I… do to you what I did last night?"
The question hung between them, soft but charged, and Salviana felt her own words heating her entire face. She nearly took them back—until she saw the way his expression shifted.
