"I’m healing," he corrected, his lips brushing the sensitive skin beneath her ear. "It doesn’t hurt the way you think it does."
She didn’t fully believe him, but the ache in his voice was real, a different kind of pain, one she understood.
So instead of pulling away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tighter, pressing herself fully against him, letting her body speak where words couldn’t.
"We can wait," she whispered, her lips brushing his cheek. "Just a little longer. Okay?"
She pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He let out a slow, ragged breath, like a man fighting a losing battle with his own control. The sound turned into sothing shakier, closer to surrender.
"No," he murmured, the word raw with need. "I’ve waited long enough."
His hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her hair, tilting her face toward his. And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle. It was deep, claiming, and hungry. His tongue swept into her mouth, not asking, but taking, relearning the taste of her. She moaned softly into the kiss, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer as if she could fuse them together.
His other hand moved from her waist up her side, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast through her shirt. The touch was electric, and she arched into it instinctively, a soft gasp breaking their kiss.
"Leo—" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Tell to stop," he breathed against her lips, his voice thick with desire. "Tell , and I will."
But she didn’t. Instead, she kissed him again, harder, her tongue tangling with his in a rhythm that was both fierce and tender. Her hands slid from his hair down to his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. She could feel the tension in his body, the careful control he was using to keep from pulling her beneath him.
His mouth left hers, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck to the hollow of her throat. His teeth grazed her skin lightly, making her gasp and shudder in his arms.
"I missed you," he growled against her skin, his voice rough. "Every damn second."
Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, her palms flattening against the hard planes of his stomach, feeling the muscles tighten under her touch. She felt the ridge of bandages beneath her fingertips, a stark reminder of his injury, but all she felt in that mont was his strength, his heat, his need.
"Bella," he whispered her na like a prayer, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "I need you. Not just like this... all of you."
Bella pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her expression soft but determined.
"No," she whispered, her voice gentle but firm. "Everything can wait until you’re fully healed."
His gaze darkened with a smoldering, possessive heat that seed to pull the air from the room. He didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned in and captured her mouth in a deep, lingering kiss, slow and deliberate, full of possession. His tongue brushed against hers, reminding her of the taste of him, the feel of him.
As he kissed her, his hands began to move. They slid from her waist down to her thighs, his palms smoothing over the fabric of her pants with slow, deliberate pressure.
His thumbs traced small, maddening circles along her inner thighs, just above her knees, a touch that was both intimate and teasing.
He broke the kiss, his lips hovering just above hers, their breaths mingling.
"Are you sure," he murmured, his voice a low, velvet rasp that vibrated through her, "you don’t want...?"
Bella swallowed and gave a firm, deliberate nod. "I’m sure."
A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips, the smile of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
"Sure," he echoed, his tone filled with playful challenge.
His hands didn’t leave her.
They began a slow, deliberate path back up her thighs, his fingers kneading the soft flesh through the fabric in a rhythm that was almost hypnotic. He watched her face, his stormy eyes locked onto hers, studying every flicker of response, the slight parting of her lips, the deepening flush across her cheeks, the way her breath hitched when his thumbs brushed higher, edging dangerously close to the heat between her legs.
"Because," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as his hands stilled, palms spread wide and warm over the tops of her thighs, "I rember what you like. How you arch into my touch. The little sound you make right before you stop thinking altogether."
He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
"I rember all of it, Bunny. And I’ve been rembering. Every night. While you were sleeping right beside ."
His words were a different kind of touch, more intimate than his hands. Bella’s fingers tightened where they gripped his shoulders.
His lips trailed a path of heat down her neck, each open-mouthed kiss deliberate and feather-light. A shiver ran through her, her body arching into his touch despite herself.
"Leo..." she breathed, her voice already unsteady. "Are you trying to seduce ?"
He pulled back just enough to et her gaze, his storm-gray eyes dark with intent. A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips.
"What do you think?" he murmured, his voice a low, velvet rumble.
His hand, resting on her hip, began to move again, sliding up the outside of her thigh in a slow, sensual caress, his fingers pressing just enough to make her breath catch. The touch was possessive, intimate, and utterly distracting.
"You..." Bella managed, a glare forming in her eyes that was completely betrayed by the blush spreading across her cheeks and the way her hands had fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer.
"," he agreed, his smirk deepening as he leaned in again, his lips finding the frantic pulse at the base of her throat. He kissed it slowly, then whispered against her skin, his breath hot.
"And you, Bunny. Always you."
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