ISABELLA

Chapter 40

Leo’s POV

Her wide eyes, that soft gasp she couldn’t hide, drew me in. I leaned closer, letting my lips brush hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. She froze at first, then melted into it, the warmth of her mouth sending a jolt straight through me.

I pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, and whispered, “You’re mine. Always.”

She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. I smiled faintly, pressing my forehead against hers, letting the silence speak louder than any declaration.

Then, I did something a little reckless—something that made her gasp softly against my chest. I nipped at her jawline, trailing kisses down her neck, careful, teasing, stoking that fire between us without crossing any line. My hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, letting her feel the steady strength of me beneath her.

Her body pressed against mine, and the heat between us built, but I didn’t take it further. Not yet. I wanted her trembling, wanting, aware of every inch of my presence. Every subtle touch, every slow movement was a claim, a promise.

“Leo…” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear.

“Yes,” I murmured, my lips brushing her hairline. “Just stay. Let me hold you.”

She didn’t resist. She let herself be enveloped in me, my hands tracing gentle patterns on her back, my lips brushing hers again in fleeting, teasing kisses. The tension was unbearable, magnetic—an electric anticipation that left us both shivering.

My fingers lingered on the strap I’d already slipped from her shoulder, tracing slowly down her arm. I could feel her breath quicken beneath me, soft gasps brushing against my chest.

Carefully, deliberately, I eased the second strap down, watching her reaction, memorizing every inch of her. Her skin glowed under my touch, delicate and soft, and I couldn’t help but press my lips to the curve of her neck again, nipping gently as a teasing reminder of my presence.

When I finally saw her—her boobs revealed under the fabric—I swallowed hard, the sight igniting something primal but controlled within me. My gaze lingered, drinking her in, but I didn’t rush. I let her feel my hands and lips moving over her skin, teasing and claiming, making sure she knew the power of my touch without crossing the line.

Her eyes were wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and I could hear her breath hitching with every movement I made.

Leaning down, I pressed my lips to her collarbone again, trailing kisses slowly, deliberately, down toward the curve of her ribs. I could feel her shiver beneath me, a soft, involuntary moan escaping her throat.

“Ahh… Leo…” she gasped, the sound trembling, desperate yet soft, like a whisper carried on the wind.

I let my lips brush lower, teasing, letting her feel every deliberate movement. Another small moan slipped from her lips, breathy and shaky, “Mmm… don’t… stop…”

Her hands fisted lightly in the sheets, clutching at the fabric as I kissed lower, her soft gasps mixing with the quiet rustle of the sheets. Each moan, each sigh, was a map of her reaction, guiding me, teasing me, igniting a fire that burned slowly, intensely, between us.

I paused at her stomach, letting my lips hover just above, pressing soft kisses along the curve, and she shivered again, another breathy, shaky moan escaping: “Leo… please…”

Her moans still echoed softly in the room as I trailed my hands along her sides, feeling her shiver beneath me. Slowly, deliberately, I reached for the silky gown that clung to her body. My fingers tugged at the fabric, sliding it down over her arms, across her back.

She tried to shift, to cover herself, but I held her gently in place. Every movement was measured, teasing—watching her reaction was as intoxicating as any kiss.

“Relax,” I murmured, my lips brushing her temple. “Just let me.”

With a final, deliberate tug, the gown pooled at her feet, leaving her chest exposed, her pant still in place. She gasped softly, a shaky, breathy sound that made my chest tighten.

“Leo…” she whispered, her voice trembling, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

I pressed my lips to her shoulder again, trailing them down the curve of her chest, careful, teasing, letting her moans guide me. “Shh… just stay still,” I murmured, my hand brushing lightly over her waist, holding her close.

Her soft gasps and little moans filled the room—“Ah… oh… Leo… mmm…”—each one making my chest tighten, the tension between us thick, electric. She tried to cover herself with her arms, but I gently held them down, making her lean back into me, letting her feel the heat of my body pressed against hers.

Every kiss, every touch, every teasing pause was a claim—possessive, protective, and entirely ours. And as she trembled beneath me, breathy and flushed, I knew this slow burn wasn’t just desire—it was obsession, and it was only beginning.

After trailing kisses along her chest and stomach, I slowly lifted my gaze, letting my lips brush hers again. The kiss was deep, hungry, possessive, and she responded with a soft shiver, her hands clutching at my shoulders.

My hand trailed lower, sliding hesitantly toward the waistband of her pants. I could feel her tension shift beneath my touch, a subtle hesitation that made my pulse quicken.

“Leo… wait,” she whispered, her voice shaky but firm. I froze mid-motion, my lips still brushing hers, eyes locking with hers.

“I… I can’t,” she breathed, trembling slightly, “I’m… I’m a virgin.”

The words hit me like a shockwave. Instantly, every inch of me tensed, then relaxed, replaced with a protective heat that burned sharper than desire. I pulled back slightly, my hands retreating, and cupped her face gently.

“You’re mine,” I murmured, my voice low, rough, but soft now, full of something fiercer than lust—possessiveness, care, and respect all at once. “And I’d never… I wouldn’t take that from you.”

Her lips quivered as tears threatened to spill, not from shame, but from the overwhelming weight of trust and the unspoken promise in my words. I pressed my forehead to hers, letting her feel the intensity of my claim without crossing the line she wasn’t ready for.

“You’ll tell me when you’re ready,” I whispered, my thumb brushing her cheek. “Until then… I protect you. That’s all that matters.”

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We headed to the bathroom together. She leaned over the sink, brushing her teeth, and I stood beside her, mimicking the motions absentmindedly. The closeness, the casual brushing, the soft morning light—it all made me aware of her presence in ways that had nothing to do with possession and everything to do with… wanting.

When she finished and glanced at me, her lips puckered from toothpaste, I almost laughed. “You’re going to get that everywhere,” I teased, but there was a softness in my tone.

She smiled, shaking her head, then turned toward the shower. I could feel the weight of her glance, the silent, playful acknowledgment of the night before. And then she started to undress—slowly, innocently, oblivious to the effect she had on me.

I froze for a heartbeat. My pulse spiked, remembering her body from just minutes ago, the way she’d trusted me, the way… everything about her burned in my mind.

Then, before temptation could take over, I straightened, clearing my throat. “I… I’ll leave,” I said abruptly, stepping out of the bathroom.

Her head peeked around the curtain. “Leo…?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I had seen enough to last me hours, and I wasn’t about to ruin what we had—or what she trusted me with. My control wasn’t just about keeping her safe—it was about respecting her.

“Five minutes ago, you just saw her boobs five minutes ago,” I muttered to myself as I strode down the hall, a small smirk tugging at my lips. “And I leave immediately. Good control, Deluca. Good control.”

Even as I walked away, I could hear the faint sound of water starting, the soft spray of the shower, and the quiet rhythm of her morning. Somehow, the thought of her in there, trusting me to stay away, made my obsession with her burn hotter—and my patience even sharper.