Chapter 117: A Sensual Night

Lisa's POV

My body is still humming at the end of the spa—muscles relaxed and relaxed, skin softened by oils and treatments, all my nerve endings more awake and relaxed at once in some way. It’s an odd, buoyant sensation, like I’m hovering a few inches off the ground even as Leo’s hand roots me, his fingers woven through mine as we enter the house.

The house is quiet, and we are surrounded by the warm amber light of the setting sun shining through the house windows. Leo shuts the door behind us with a soft click that rebounds in the silence and all of a sudden the atmosphere is different. Charged. Expectant.

I look over at him and it’s like he’s already waiting for me and that’s when I look up and meet his seemingly dark and focused eyes that takes my breathe away. His hair is still a little wet from the steam room, hanging down on his forehead.

He’s got the sumptuous spa robe wrapped loosely around his waist, the material splayed out enough to show his chest, and something about the casual intimacy of it makes me feel warm all the way down.

"Hi" I say softly, suddenly aware of just how alone we are, how everything is so silent here.

"Hi," he says, bringing his voice down an octave. He moves in, and with his other hand, he traces my jaw with his fingers—a touch as light as a feather, and yet it feels like fire. "You look relaxed."

I exhale slowly "I am." Thanks for bringing me," s

"Don't mention it." His thumb strafes my bottom lip, and I can feel it all over. "Do you know what I kept on thinking about when I was having my massage?"

"What?" "What?"

"You. "You, right on the other side of that wall. "Just lying there with your eyes closed, probably making those little sounds you do when something feels good.

Heat floods my cheeks. “Leo...” “Leo...”

“Was I right?” His smile is knowing. “Did you make those sounds?”

I bite down on my lip, feeling simultaneously vulnerable and exhilarated. "Maybe."

“Maybe,” he said as he bent down until his lips were just above mine. "I'll take that as a yes."

He kisses me then—slow and deep and deliberate, like he's savoring every second. His hands rest on my waist, drawing me close against him, and the heat of his body seeps through the slender cloth of our robes. My arms wind around his neck, my fingers tangle into his wet hair, and I fight back with all I have.

When we finally separate, our breathing is both labored. "I'm starving," he mumbles into my mouth, but the hunger in his eyes tells me that food is the last thing he really wants.

"Me too," I say with a sigh, and my voice is breathier than I wanted it to be.

"I'll get us something to eat." He lays one more lingering kiss on my forehead. "Go light some candles, put some music on. Make yourself comfortable."

"You're cooking?" I said, surprised.

"I'm going to try not to burn the kitchen down," he amends with a self-deprecating smile. "But yes. Let me take care of you tonight, Lisa.PLEASE."

There’s something earnest to the way he says that, the way he looks at me like I’m some kind of precious thing that makes my chest ache. “Okay,” I whisper.

He kisses me again, swiftly this time, quick and sweet, and then he's gone toward the kitchen. Dazed and warm, I linger there a moment, then turn and go to do as he bids.

I come upon candles strewn all around the living room—tea lights and pillars, leftovers from dinners gone. I light them one by one, and as I see the soft golden light taking over the room making the walls move with its dancing shadows. Then I find my phone and as I'm scrolling through playlists I find the perfect song—low, sultry jazz that sounds like velvet and smoke.

The music fills the room, enfolding me like a hug. I turn the volume up to the right level; not loud, but loud enough, to create a mood that makes me want to tingle all over. From the kitchen I hear Leo moving about — opening and closing cabinet doors, the clatter of dishes, running water.

A little smile plays about my lips as I feel the warmth of the domesticity in all of it, in the fact that he’s in there, so quietly, trying to make something for us. I sit on the couch, pulling my legs under me and close my eyes.

The spa treatments have me in that weird, elevated place where everything is more intense. The plushness of the robe against my skin, the candlelight warmth on my face, the music wafting in the air—it’s all somehow heightened, more now.

"Lisa?"

I open my eyes to find Leo with a tray. There are two plates on it—some sort of pasta with vegetables, nothing you fancy, simple but nice on the eye—and two glasses of wine, red and full.

“You made this?” I ask, awed.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he says, although he’s smiling. “I'm multi-talented.”

He lays the tray on the coffee table, then sits beside me on the sofa, so close our thighs are touching. He gives me a glass of wine and takes his own.

“To us,” he says,raising his glass.

“To us,” I said, tapping glasses with him.

And the wine, as it rolls down my throat, is perfect—velvety and comforting. Leo is watching me so intently, I am hyperaware of everything I do, every breath I take. “Taste,” he says, nodding his head to the food.

I pick up my fork, twirling pasta and lifting to my mouth. The flavors are exploding on my tongue - garlic, olive oil, fresh basil, cooked to al dente perfection. I close my eyes and it escapes as a gyalintish

"Mmm."

When I open them, Leo is looking at me with an almost predatory expression in his eyes.

“Good?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

Amazing,” I say bluntly. “When did you learn to make food like this?”

“I have my secrets.” He leans closer, his hand resting on my knee. "But I like the noise you' ve just made. I wish to hear It again.”

Warmth pours through me. “Leo...”

“Eat,” he commands softly. “We have all night.”

We eat slowly now, as we feed one another bites in between kisses, the act of eating is less about nourishment and more about the closeness of sharing, of intimacy. Both of us are a little loosened by the wine, our conversation flowing freely in and out of easy silences punctuated with lingering gazes and touches.

At a certain point, the plates are shoved aside, neglected. Leo spins me around to face him, my legs wrapping around his waist and his hands are on my thighs under the robe. The contact sends an electric shock up my back.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes running over my face as if to commit every detail to memory. “Just like that. Relaxed. Happy. Mine.”

“Yours,” I say, cuping his face. “Always yours. "

He kisses me deeply, hungrily, his hands trailing over the curve of my back, my ribs, the contours of every hollow and peak. I lose myself in him—in the taste of wine on his lips.

My fingers trace the tie on his robe, and I pull lightly. “Can I?”

“Please,” he whispers.

I unfasten the knot slowly, the fabric falling apart to expose his chest. My hands roam free now—running along muscle, the heat of skin, making him breathe sharply when I touch sensitive places.

Like me, his hands goes beneath my kimono and his fingers travel along my ribs and waist.

“Lisa,” he says, his voice tight. "Tell me what do you want."

"You," I say instantly, no hesitation. “Just you.”

That is all the authorization he requires.

He rises, taking me with him, my legs instinctually wrapping around his waist. The robe heels away from my shoulders, crumpling at our feet as he bears me to the bedroom. Still, in the now in the living room behind us there are candles flickering, music playing, but we couldn’t give a damn for anything but this – but each other.

The bedroom is dark but for the moonlight filtering in through the window, casting silver and shadow across everything. Leo gently lays me down on the bed, his body stretched over mine, his weight a welcome and grounding.

“I love you,” he whispers against my lips, his hands cupping my face with such tenderness it makes my eyes stinging. "Lisa, I love you so fucking much, God."

I love you too” I answer,leaning up and pulling him back down for another kiss. “Show me, Show me how much.”

And he does.

Each touch is electric—his hands worship and lust at every inch of my body, followed closely by his lips along the path his fingers take. He takes his time in stretching out all of the feelings and the moments, till I am shaking under him, with the power of all the stuff overwhelming me.

When we at last come together it is like coming home—old and new all at once, our bodies at times lockstep rhythms, two halves joined into a whole finding completion. We are both hyperaware from the spa treatments, every nerve ending evolved into a higher state of consciousness, turning all our experiences into something more, something deeper.

“Lisa,” he breathes my name like a prayer, his forehead pressing in mine, our breaths mingling as we sway.

I respond by drawing him closer, pulling him deeper, trying to erase the distance between us. His timing is spot on slow and deep then fast then slow again hes reading my body like hes got a map of where to go to make me go into pieces.

And I do break up, shouting out his name as pleasure crashes over me in waves. He comes a little further behind me, my name on his lips, his body shaking with mine. We crumble into each other, entwined and gasping for air, our heartbeats drumming in sync.

He rolls us over so I'm sprawled across his chest, his arms are wrapped tightly around me as if he couldn't let go.

We don’t talk for a long time. We just lie there, bare to bare, heart to heart, hearing the sound of each other in breath as our bodies gradually chill.

"That was..." I begin, then silence falls from my mouth, unable to speak.

"Yeah," he says sliding his hand across my back in lazy circles. "It really was."

I raise my head to look on him. His face is relaxed and peaceful, with a slight smile upon his lips. “Best spa day ever,” I repeat, quoting his initial words.

He laughs, the noise vibrating through his chest beneath me. “Best everything ever.”

I plant a kiss on his heart, and feel it beating rapidly yet evenly under my lips. "I could be like this forever."

“Then stay,” he adds simply. “Stay right here with me. Tonight, tomorrow, always.”

“Always,” I echo, the word feeling vow-like.

He pulls the covers over us, enfolding us in heat. Outside, the world runs on, but here, in this bed, locked in one another's grasp, time halts.

I close my eyes, allow those words to wash deep into my soul, and let myself believe them fully perhaps for the very first time. This—this connection, this love, this sense of complete ‘home’—is what I didn’t know I was looking for, but is exactly what I’ve been searching for.

And as sleep starts to drag me down, safe and warm in Leo's hold, I feel it in my bones right here right now: This is where I need to be.