Page 50 of Leo

“Is that your medical opinion?” He dragged off his underwear and knew when he was defeated.

“Of course.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously as he climbed in next to her.

He leaned down, capturing her lips with a fervent kiss. Her hands roamed over his back, igniting a trail of fire wherever they touched. The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was the two of them, wrapped in a fervent embrace.

Their movements were slow, almost reverent, as if each touch, each kiss, was a sacred act. He was careful, mindful of her recent illness, but the passion between them was undeniable, a force neither could resist.

He lifted his mouth from hers, reluctantly ending the kiss. She tasted of herbal tea and sexiness, of love and desire and heaven. And even though he was bursting at the seams, he still had to ask her once more.

“Are you sure?”

“Stop talking.”

His fingers trailed down her arms, sending shivers along her skin. Her breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping her lips as he explored her body with gentle curiosity. Each touch was a promise, a testament to the depth of their connection.

She arched into him, her own hands finding their way to the contours of his body, tracing the lines of muscle with a tender urgency. The room was filled with the sound of their mingled breaths, the soft rustle of sheets, and the symphony of their hearts beating in unison.

Every movement, every caress, spoke of the unspoken words that lay between them. It was a dance of souls, a merging of two hearts that found solace and strength in each other. As they moved together, their bodies became the canvas upon which their love painted its masterpiece.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. The world outside was a distant memory, an echo of a life that seemed so far away.

Love for her overwhelmed him so much that he felt his throat thickening, his body surging towards hers.

His heart pounded in his chest, a tumultuous rhythm that echoed the intensity of his emotions. He cradled her face between his hands, his thumbs brushing away the stray strands of hair that clung to her damp forehead. Her eyes, half-lidded with passion, gazed up at him with a mixture of vulnerability and strength that took his breath away.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice a mere breath against his lips. “Don’t hold back.”

With a shuddering breath, he gave in to the storm within him. Their lips met again, this time with a fervor that spoke of longing and need. Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each kiss a promise of forever.

The night stretched on, a tapestry woven with moments of tenderness and passion. They lost themselves in each other, finding refuge and sanctuary in the warmth of their embrace.

He wanted to prolong the moment, draw it all out, savor every inch of her delectable body.

He pressed a lingering kiss to her shoulder, his hands wandering with a languid grace as if committing each curve and hollow of her body to memory. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his touch, a testament to the life and love that pulsed through her veins.

As he moved lower, his lips trailing a path of fire along her collarbone, she tangled her fingers in his hair, a silent plea for more. He responded with a gentle murmur, a sound that resonated deep within her, stirring the embers of their shared passion into a blazing inferno.

They were lost to the world, two souls entwined in a dance as old as time itself. Each touch, each kiss, was a note in the symphony that played between them, a melody that spoke of unending devotion and boundless desire. The night was their canvas, and they painted it with the colors of their lovemaking, vibrant and enduring.

He wanted so much to express his devotion, declare his love for her, but he knew it would be too soon. He could feel her going in deeper, sinking under the silken splendor of his lovemaking. She had become the aggressor, reaching for him without his initiation and he felt hope.

He kissed her again, his hands roaming her curves. With gentle pressure, he pushed her back on the pillows, his body covering hers. He had contemplated a slow and lingering time spent exploring her body, but the need beating at him could not be stayed. He wanted her with a fervency that was making him ill.

His blood was thick, his body coated with a fine sheen of sweat. His heart was hammering against his ribs, his hands trembling.

He entered her swiftly, going in deep, his eyes meeting hers. He marveled at the flaring of the dark brown depths, the parted lipsas she closed around him like a tight wet fist. His body jerked in response to this wonderful sensation of her wrapped around him.

When her hands closed around his neck and she tugged him towards her, he brushed his lips against hers slowly. He might not be able to use words just yet, but dammit, if he was not going to let his body speak in volumes.

He moved inside her, his tongue entering her mouth, savoring her taste. Sensations rocketed through his body, and he had no other choice but to allow it to take over. He increased the pace, swallowing her moans. Her pert nipples were branding his chest, creating a friction that was about to drive him mad.

Her body arched, fingers digging into the supple sweat slickness of his shoulders and back, biting into skin. He did not feel anything except the desire and passion roaring through his body like quicksilver. He swallowed her cries as the violent climax engulfed her and she exploded.

They became one, moving together in a rhythm born of instinct and desire. His fingers intertwined with hers, a physical manifestation of the emotional connection that bound them.

He wanted to imprint this moment into his memory, to recall the way her body felt beneath his, the intoxicating scent of her skin, the sounds of their breaths mingling in the stillness of the night.

Every movement, every touch, every kiss was a declaration of his unspoken feelings. He felt her responding to him, her body arching to meet his, her hands clutching him closer as if to never let go. The intensity of their connection grew each thrust a testament to the depth of their passion.

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