I couldn't help but wince slightly as Alaric set me down on the edge of our bed. The passionate encounter on the stairs had left me more than a little sore, though I'd never admit it aloud.
Alaric, ever observant, caught my expression immediately. "Did I hurt you, Isabella?"
"Not at all," I lied, shifting to find a more comfortable position. "Though I might suggest we utilize our perfectly good bed more often."
His knowing smirk made my cheeks warm. "The stairs didn't seem to bother you when you were begging me for more."
"I did not beg," I protested, though we both knew it wasn't entirely true.
Alaric chuckled, moving to the table where our breakfast waited. The food had gone cold during our extended activities by the window, but my stomach growled loudly enough that I couldn't pretend not to be famished.
"Come eat," he said, pulling out a chair for me. "I need to ensure my wife has sufficient energy for the remainder of my birthday celebrations."
