Chapter 220 Flying Back Home

The flight back was exhilarating.

Mounted atop Kai, the Azure Sky Emperor Roc, Alaric felt an unmatched sense of freedom and power. The wind whipped past him, tearing at his cloak, but Kai’s innate control over air currents created a surprisingly stable pocket around them.

‘Magnificent creature,’ Alaric thought, running a hand along Kai’s sleek azure neck feathers. The Roc responded with a low, appreciative trill, the bond between them solidifying with every league they crossed.

Below them, the rest of his newly formed aerial squadron kept pace. Ignis, Rosalind’s Crimson Wind Griffin, flew with fiery grace. Solara, Ceanna’s Golden Sun Peryton, radiated gentle light. Nyx, Brita’s Umbral Night Prowler, flowed like a shadow beside them, almost invisible against the passing landscape. And Atlas, the Titan Sky Hauler, soared steadily, carrying Captain Valerius and his men with surprising ease.

The speed was incredible. What would have been a three-day journey overland became less than a single day’s flight. The world blurred beneath them – forests, rivers, hills – all shrinking under the rapid advance of their winged mounts.

Alaric grinned, truly enjoying the sensation. This was power. This was efficiency.

As the familiar silhouette of the Steele Family manor appeared on the horizon, growing rapidly larger, a sense of satisfaction settled over him. The expedition had been a resounding success. Valuable cores secured, potential threats neutralized, and powerful new assets acquired.

They descended smoothly, landing in the massive central courtyard designated for such arrivals. Servants and guards scrambled, alerted by the sight of the magnificent, unfamiliar beasts.

Alaric swung down from Kai’s back, landing lightly on the flagstones. The others dismounted as well, looks of awe still lingering on the faces of the guards and mercenaries who had ridden Atlas.

And then he saw her.

Griselda.

She practically flew out of the main entrance, her usual composed grace forgotten in her haste. Her eyes, wide with relief and happiness, were fixed solely on him.

“Alaric!” she cried out, rushing towards him.

He met her halfway, catching her easily as she threw herself into his arms. He held her close, inhaling the familiar, clean scent of her hair.

“You’re back! You’re safe!” she murmured into his chest, clinging tightly.

“Of course, I’m back,” he chuckled softly, stroking her hair. “Did you doubt me?”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him, her eyes scanning his face for any sign of injury. “I worried! Two weeks… You said it would be shorter…”

“Apologies, my love,” Alaric said smoothly. “The hunt was… exceptionally successful. It required a bit more time than anticipated.”

He gestured towards the magnificent beasts now settling nervously under the attention of the stable hands and beastmasters who had rushed out. “As you can see, we acquired some new additions to the family stables.”

Griselda’s eyes widened as she took in the sheer scale and power radiating from the creatures, especially Kai, who stood regally behind Alaric. “Oh my… Alaric, they are… magnificent! What are they?”

“Flying mounts,” Alaric explained with a proud smile. “High-order beasts, subdued for our use.” He patted Kai’s leg. “This one is Kai. An Azure Sky Emperor Roc. Peak Sixth Order, with a rather impressive bloodline.”

Griselda gasped. Even as a princess less concerned with martial matters, she understood the significance. Subduing any Sixth Order beast was a feat; taming a peak one, especially a Roc known for its untamable pride, was legendary.

“And the hunt itself?” she asked eagerly, her eyes shining. “Was it successful?”

“Beyond expectations,” Alaric confirmed, his tone casual but carrying an undercurrent of immense achievement. “We secured numerous Sixth Order cores.” He paused for effect. “And dealt with a troublesome Seventh Order beast near Mount Cinderfell.”

Griselda’s hand flew to her mouth. “Seventh… Order? You fought a Seventh Order beast?” The implications struck her fully. Seventh Order. The realm of Archmages, Martial Kings, entities capable of leveling cities.

“We encountered it,” Alaric corrected mildly, though his eyes gleamed. “And neutralized the threat.” He didn’t need to boast; the simple statement was enough. He saw the dawning realization in her eyes, the mixture of fear for his safety and overwhelming awe at his power.

‘My husband…’ Griselda thought, her heart swelling with fierce pride and adoration. ‘He faced a monster of legend… and won. He is truly the greatest genius, the strongest protector.’ The vague worries she sometimes felt about his other… activities… seemed insignificant compared to this raw display of power and capability. ‘How fortunate I am,’ she thought fervently. ‘Truly, blessedly fortunate to be his wife.’

“Alaric…” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You are… incredible.”

He smiled, leaning closer. “All to ensure our home remains safe, my princess.” He gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “And,” he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “speaking of Kai… once he’s settled, I promised myself I would take my beautiful wife soaring through the clouds.”

Griselda blushed prettily at the promise and the intimacy in his tone. “Truly?”

“Truly,” he confirmed.

As he spoke, his hand slid down from her cheek, tracing the line of her neck, pausing briefly at the hollow of her throat before continuing its journey downwards. His fingers brushed lightly over the curve of her collarbone, then drifted lower, settling possessively on her waist.

Griselda shivered slightly at his touch, her blush deepening. They were still in the courtyard, with guards and servants nearby, but Alaric seemed completely unconcerned. His touch was gentle, yet undeniably possessive.

She felt shy under his bold caress, but she didn’t pull away. She leaned into him subtly, accepting his touch, her body already reacting to his proximity after the two-week separation. He made her feel safe, cherished, and desired all at once.

‘He looks tired,’ she thought, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes despite his energetic demeanor. ‘But he still came straight to me.’ A warm feeling spread through her.

Alaric leaned even closer, his lips brushing her ear. “Two weeks felt like an eternity, Griselda,” he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. His hand slid from her waist, moving upwards now, thumb brushing against the underside of her breast through the fabric of her dress.

She gasped softly, her cheeks burning. “Alaric… people are watching…” she whispered, though her protest lacked any real force.

“Let them watch,” he whispered back, his voice thick with desire. “Let them see how much the lord of the manor missed his lady.” His hand grew bolder, cupping her breast gently, possessively.

Griselda’s breath hitched. Her body felt like it was melting, a familiar heat pooling low in her belly.

“I missed you terribly,” Alaric continued, his lips moving to her neck, placing soft kisses there. “Every night, I thought of you. Of this.” His hand squeezed gently.

“Alaric…” she breathed, her resistance dissolving completely.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his own ruby gaze filled with a mixture of tenderness and hunger. “I think,” he declared softly but firmly, “it’s time we made up for these past few days. Properly.”

Before she could fully process his words, he scooped her effortlessly into his arms.

“Ah!” Griselda yelped in surprise, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Taking my wife to bed,” he stated simply, ignoring the stunned looks from the nearby staff. He turned and strode towards their private wing, carrying her as if she weighed nothing.

Griselda buried her face in his shoulder, half embarrassed, half utterly thrilled by his bold, romantic gesture. Her body felt soft, pliant, eagerly anticipating what was to come. The heat between her legs intensified with every step he took.

He kicked open the door to their luxurious bedroom suite and carried her straight towards the large, canopied bed.

With a playful growl, he gently tossed her onto the plush mattress. She landed amidst the soft silks and furs with a surprised giggle, her heart pounding in her chest.

Before she could even sit up, he was there, pouncing onto the bed beside her, his weight pressing her down, his eyes burning with possessive desire.

“Husband…” she began, slightly breathless.

“Shhh,” he murmured, silencing her with a deep, passionate kiss. His mouth claimed hers, gentle yet insistent, exploring, tasting, reminding her of his ownership.

His hands were already busy, expertly unfastening the laces of her gown. He worked quickly but without roughness, his touch sending sparks across her skin.

‘He missed me,’ Griselda thought dizzily, lost in the kiss and the feel of his hands on her. ‘He truly missed me.’

He pulled back from the kiss, his gaze sweeping over her as he peeled away the layers of her clothing. Piece by piece, her smooth, pale skin was revealed. Her breasts, full and perfectly formed, her slender waist, the gentle curve of her hips, the soft blonde curls nestled between her thighs.

“Beautiful,” Alaric breathed, his voice husky with appreciation. His eyes, usually calculating or filled with cold fire when dealing with others, held a genuine warmth and hunger when he looked at her like this. “My perfect little princess.”

Griselda blushed under his intense scrutiny, instinctively trying to cover herself slightly.

“None of that,” Alaric chided gently, pulling her hands away. “Let me look at you. Let me adore you.”

He leaned down, his lips tracing a path from her collarbone downwards. He kissed the swell of her breast, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin.

“Ah… Alaric…” Griselda moaned softly, arching her back slightly.

He moved lower, lavishing attention on her navel, before trailing kisses across her quivering belly. His gentleness was almost overwhelming. This wasn’t the ruthless conqueror, the demanding master she sometimes glimpsed hints of. This was her husband, her lover, focused solely on her pleasure, her body.

‘He’s being so… tender,’ she thought, a wave of love washing over her. She adored this side of him, the side reserved seemingly only for her.

His hands explored her body with reverent care, stroking her thighs, cupping her buttocks, learning her curves anew after their separation. Every touch was soft, deliberate, designed to build anticipation, to make her ache for him.

“Did you miss my touch, Griselda?” he whispered, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

“Yes… oh, yes, husband…” she gasped, squirming slightly.

“Tell me how much,” he prompted gently, his fingers dancing closer to her core.

“So much… I thought only of you…” she confessed breathlessly, heat flooding her cheeks.

He finally reached her center, finding her already slick and swollen with need. His fingers slipped inside her easily, eliciting a sharp gasp and a buck of her hips.

“Mmmm, so wet for me already,” he murmured approvingly. “So eager to welcome your husband home.”

He stroked her slowly, rhythmically, finding her sensitive nub and rubbing it gently with his thumb. Griselda cried out softly, her head thrashing on the pillows. The pleasure was exquisite, almost unbearable in its focused gentleness.

“Please… Alaric… please…” she begged, not even sure what she was asking for, only knowing she needed more.

“Soon, my love,” he promised, continuing his ministrations until she was trembling on the verge of her first climax.

Only then did he position himself between her parted thighs. He leaned down, kissing her deeply again as he guided the thick, blunt head of his cock to her entrance.

He pushed inside slowly, carefully stretching her. Even though they had been intimate many times, he always took care during the initial entry with her, respecting her slightly more delicate frame compared to some of his other… partners.

Griselda gasped as he filled her, a delicious fullness spreading through her lower body. “Oh… husband…”

He paused, letting her adjust, murmuring soft praises against her lips. Then, he began to move.

His thrusts were slow, deep, deliberate. Each stroke felt incredibly intimate, a languid dance of possession and pleasure. He held her gaze, his ruby eyes softened with affection, watching her reactions, ensuring her comfort even as he drove deeper.

“Like this, my princess?” he asked softly.

“Yes… oh, gods, yes…” she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

He changed the angle slightly, finding a spot deep inside that made her cry out his name, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He focused on that spot, his thrusts becoming slightly firmer but still measured, controlled, drawing out the pleasure.

He kissed her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, his touch gentle, adoring. He whispered sweet obscenities mixed with loving endearments, telling her how beautiful she was, how much he desired her, how perfectly she took him.

Griselda was lost in a sea of sensation. The gentleness somehow made the pleasure more intense, more overwhelming. She climaxed quickly, her body convulsing around him, tears of ecstasy slipping from her eyes.

“That’s it, my love,” Alaric encouraged softly, holding her close, continuing his slow, steady rhythm even as her orgasm peaked. “Come for your husband.”

He didn’t rush his own release. He seemed content to simply pleasure her, to feel her body clenching around him. He brought her to the edge again and again, teasing her, retreating slightly before driving deep once more, eliciting fresh waves of moans and shudders.

They moved through various positions, always maintaining that sense of tender intimacy. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he sat up, holding her close. Her bent over the edge of the bed, his hands gently supporting her hips as he took her slowly from behind, whispering praise in her ear. Her riding him, shyly at first, then with growing confidence as he guided her movements, his hands caressing her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples until she cried out.

He seemed tireless, his stamina as legendary in tenderness as it was in brutality with others. Hours melted away. Night deepened, the only light the soft glow of mana lamps, casting their entwined bodies in intimate shadows.

He took her again, and again, and again. Each time felt new, yet familiar. Each climax built upon the last. Griselda lost count somewhere after her tenth orgasm, her body humming with a constant thrum of pleasure, her mind blissfully blank, focused only on her husband, her lover, her gentle conqueror.

Alaric finally let himself find release, groaning deep in his chest as he surged inside her, filling her with his heat. He repeated this act countless times through the night. By his mental count, he brought himself to climax well over twenty times within her, ensuring she received his seed again and again. Griselda, utterly overwhelmed, reached her peak even more frequently, easily surpassing thirty earth-shattering moments of bliss.

He didn’t stop when she grew tired. When her responses became weaker, her movements sluggish, he simply adjusted, holding her more, taking the lead completely, continuing the slow, deep thrusts, drawing soft whimpers and faint shudders from her exhausted body.

The first pale fingers of dawn began to creep through the windows when he finally slowed, his movements becoming even more languid, almost sleepy. He held her nestled against his chest, still joined together, stroking her back gently.

Griselda was boneless, utterly spent, her breathing deep and even, hovering on the edge of sleep. Her body ached in a pleasant, thoroughly satisfied way. She had never felt so cherished, so completely possessed, so deeply loved.

“Sleep now, my princess,” Alaric murmured, pressing a final kiss to her forehead.

She mumbled something incoherent, snuggling closer, and finally drifted off, a contented smile gracing her lips.

Alaric held her for a long while, watching her sleep. He felt a genuine fondness for her, a protective tenderness that was rare for him. She was his wife, the future mother of his legitimate heir, and her innocent devotion was… refreshing.

‘She takes my gentleness so well,’ he thought, contrasting it with the desperate craving for roughness he cultivated in others. ‘A different kind of satisfaction.’

He carefully withdrew from her sleeping form, cleaning both of them with a touch of magic before pulling the luxurious covers over her. She didn’t stir, lost in the depths of contented exhaustion.

He lay beside her for a while longer, the events of the past day – the brutal hunt, the awe-inspiring display of power, the strategic planning, and now this tender, marathon lovemaking session – replaying in his mind.

Life was certainly never dull. And with his plans now firmly in motion – defenses being built, resources gathered, lovers bound ever tighter, and the first steps towards his secret progeny taken – it promised only to get more interesting. He allowed himself another satisfied smile before finally letting sleep claim him as well, his wife held securely in his arms.