Alaric's hands slid from her face to her waist.
For a long moment he didn't speak; he only held her, breathing her in.
When at last he moved, it was with a gentleness that was almost impossible from someone like him.
He pushed the half-finished plates aside with one hand and scooped her up with the other, rising from the chair with her still in his lap.
She gave a small gasp but did not resist, her arms slipping around his neck.
"Ric…" she murmured, but he only shook his head, carrying her toward their bedchamber.
"I can't fight with you anymore tonight," he said quietly, his voice unsteady. "Not about this."
He set her down on the edge of the bed and knelt before her, his hands sliding down her arms until he found her fingers.
He pressed a kiss to each knuckle, then another to the inside of her wrist where her pulse beat.
"I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to frighten you. I just…" He exhaled shakily, eyes lifting to hers. "I need you close."
