Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 227: Beneath His Hands, She Bloomed

Beneath His Hands, She Bloomed

Leon growled low in his throat, the vibration thrumming against her skin as his hand closed around the lush curve of Sona’s breast—soft, heavy, and searing warm against the wet silk of her gown. His fingers settled into the curve of her body, his palm firm but awed, as if he could commit her form to memory simply through touch. With slow, deliberate care, his thumb moved in a circle over her tight peak once more, rolling it in tight, controlled moves that created shivers running through her center.

The thin material clung to her heated skin, drenched with warmth and unspoken desire, but it did nothing to blunt the way her body lurched at his touch.

Her moan escaped—louder now, raw and panting. Her back curved against him, hips quivering, seeking friction. She was shuddering beneath his weight, hardly able to breathe.

He’s so good at this... too good...

The thought danced somewhere deep inside her, weak and guttering like a candle in the turmoil of sensation. Her head was fragmenting, overwhelmed by pleasure—every nerve alight, every inch of her aflame.

Leon’s lips withdrew from hers only to journey lower, caressing the tender underside of her jaw before resting in the hollow of her throat. His kisses were not gentle anymore. They were urgent now—hot, wet, starving. His breath hit her collarbone in ragged gusts, sending shivers running over her as if she’d been caught in a brief whirl of wind.

The teasing restraint of earlier was gone.

Their lips weren’t just tasting—were asserting. Every kiss was darker, deeper, more possessive. Tongues wrapped with less and less hesitation, only raw, primal need. Their kiss now had teeth. Intent. A vow.

Sona’s fingers trace over his shoulders, her palms tracing the heavy lines of muscle under his shirt. She followed the arc of his back, the steel of his arms, the hard ridge of his biceps. He was all strength, all heat—so real, so unbelievably hers in this stolen second. The man she’d loved from a distance, in silence and hurt, now loomed above her like a storm at last breaking open.

A gasp escaped her lips into his mouth. Her fingernails dug into his back, and she spoke again, voice quavering. "Leon... I... I want..."

She stuttered.

Her dark eyes glistened with vulnerability, her chest moving with each breath she struggled to steady. Her lips parted, shaking. And then, softer, this one more desperate— "Please... now... Can we start?"

Leon held still over her, golden eyes fastened on hers, burning with an intensity she could not decipher. His chest heaved and fell in deliberate pace, skin slightly glistening under the amber light of the candles. A curl of a smile tipped the corner of his lips—slow, devilishly sure.

"My Queen looks... a little desperate tonight," he murmured, stroking the flushed curve of her cheek with his thumb, voice dark silk. "I suppose I’ll have to fix that."

Sona’s cheeks flushed deeper, eyes flicking away under the weight of his gaze. "Don’t tease me right now..."

He bent forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lips lingering with reverence.

"Alright," he whispered. "No more teasing."

And then, with a final glance around her, he rolled away from her body, the heat of his bulk departing her with a lingering trail of yearning. He stood on the cool marble floor of the bedroom, standing ankle-deep in shadows, barefoot and silent, his tall figure silhouetted against the dancing light of the wall sconces.

Sona sat up on her elbows, breath ragged, regarding him—unimpressed by anything else.

Leon inclined his head, the crooked smile pulling at his lips as he caught her watching. Her lower body was rising in shallow, breathless draws, her lips parted slightly, her eyes drawn to him with helpless gravity.

And then—he moved.

Her breath caught as his hands came to the golden fastenings of his outer robe. Slowly, he unfastened them—each metal click sounding like the slow thump of a war drum in the still room. The robe slid from his wide shoulders and fell down his arms in soft rustle before it silently hit the floor.

And underneath.

Her lungs ceased to function.

His top half was completely exposed now—gloriously chiseled. His skin glowed a warm, honey-gold color under the dancing amber light. Broad shoulders defined a chest that appeared hewn from living stone, pecs hard and etched, abs ridged in sharp lines that dropped to a v-shape above the waistband of his sleek black pants.

He wasn’t merely powerful.

He was stunning.

He was a specimen of rough masculinity, beautiful to the point of viciousness. A god sculpted to sin.

Leon just stood there, allowing her to take him in. The flames cast a golden glow over each line of muscle—accentuating the curve of his waist, the flex of his abs as he moved, the heavy ropes of his biceps pulsing with coiled strength. His chest expanded in slow, controlled breathing, as if he was holding himself back.

Sona’s heartbeat roared in her head, her mouth dry. Her legs clamped together involuntarily. Seeing him—there in his shirt off, so calm when her body shook—made her feel exposed in a way that was exciting.

Then he stepped.

With smooth grace, Leon climbed back onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, pressing a gasp from her lips as the space between them vanished. Her gaze remained fixed on him—on the hard lines of his chest, the way the muscles in his abdomen shifted as he braced himself above her.

"You’re..." Her voice broke before she could finish.

Leon leaned in, brushing lips with hers in a light-as-air touch. "Handsome?" he concluded with a low rumble of laughter. freewebnøvel_com

She was unable to speak—her throat clamped down on the word. His scent enveloped her once more—warm and smoky, with scents of cedarwood and the slightest trace of skin salt. Her fingers came up involuntarily, pressing lightly to the hard plane of his chest. The beat of his heart thundered beneath her hands, fast and hot.

Leon cupped her chin, his thumb brushing the edge of her jaw as he leaned closer, lips hovering over hers. "Say it," he murmured, teasing, his voice low and close. "You were going to call me something."

Sona’s lips curved faintly. "Too much," she whispered. "You’re too much."

His laugh was low, rich, vibrating through her chest. "I’ll take that."

Their lips met once more, this time with greater purpose. His hand closed around the back of her neck, leading her into the kiss. His lips moved with determined pressure, coaxing, tasting, claiming. Her fingers crept up across his chest to his shoulders, the warmth of his smooth skin burning into her palms. Each ridge of muscle, each flex beneath her touch, set heat racing through her core.

His kiss grew deeper, drawing a moan from her throat. She leaned slightly into him, hungry for more. His chest above her was hard, delicious, the warmth of him spilling into her like liquid fire.

Leon pulled away from the kiss to follow the line of her jaw with his mouth, his breath hot and choppy against her skin. His hand moved from her chin to her side, fingers tracing the line of her waist.

"Scared?" he asked softly, lips gliding over the curve of her cheek.

She shook her head, eyes unfocused. "No... just amazed."

He smiled again—soft, burning. "Always amazed, huh?"

Her fingers traced the curve of his shoulder, the slope of his collarbone. "Always," she breathed, shivering with her words.

His body surged closer, the coiled tension in his muscles taut as a bowstring. He seemed to be fighting it—grittingly contained, poised at the edge of the abyss. And yet, every inch of him was hers to touch and worship and be consumed by.

Their breaths mixed together, warm and unsteady, hearts pounding frantically against one another’s breasts.

Leon leaned down, lips grazing her ear with aching gentleness.

"Tell me what you desire, Sona," he whispered, his voice low and raspy, heavy with restraint and longing.

She stood still for a moment, breath caught as if the words wouldn’t escape. Then she looked at him—silver lashes quivering, eyes shining with feeling. She was flushed, vulnerable, but she didn’t back down.

"I want you..." she breathed, voice shaking. "Inside me."

The words tumbled from her lips like a promise—naked, unadorned, and full of ache.

Leon froze, the quiet between them drawing out like a suspended breath. Then, without speaking, he glided down, his knees dropping into the silk-covered mattress, placing himself between her legs with sinuous ease. His golden eyes did not leave hers, not even for an instant.

Her gown’s silk clung to her form, outlining her breasts, the curve of her waist, and the soft round of her hips—but in his gaze, she already stood naked, stripped to her soul.

He leaned in, his fingertips tracing over her knees—slow, light as a feather strokes that caused her thighs to clench. Then his hands slid down, along the fabric to the folds of the hem at her legs.

"May I?" he inquired, his voice warm against her skin.

Sona’s mouth opened, breath unsteady, heart pounding. She gazed into his eyes—blue to gold, queen to man, woman to lover—and nodded softly, shakily. "Yes..."

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