Cassandra whispers, her voice still raspy from exertion and… everything else, "Alaric?"
Alaric hums in response, his hands still lazily fondling her breasts, his fingers tracing circles around her nipples. 'Her tits are so soft,' he thinks, a wave of possessive satisfaction washing over him. 'Perfect handfuls.'
"Could we…" Cassandra hesitates, her cheeks flushing again, even after everything they've just done. "Could we maybe… next time… do this in a bedroom?" She rushes the last part out, her gaze fixed on the grass, avoiding his eyes. "Or… or somewhere… romantic?"
'Romantic?' Alaric thinks, a smirk tugging at his lips. 'She wants romantic? After all this raw fucking in a training field?' But he doesn't dismiss her immediately. He's curious.
