Page 61 of The Gentleman

“I’ve wanted this,” he spoke his confession against the curve of her neck, breathing in the lingering traces of his soap on her skin. “For years.”

She stretched beneath him, her body a perfect counterpoint to his. “Stop talking and show me.”

Leo took a second to memorize this moment—Kat beneath him, softened by sleep and morning light, dark hair on his pillow.

He pulled the sheet away, baring her skin. His palms followed, slow and possessive, over her waist, her hips, the bruise blooming along her arm a reminder of the world that still wanted to harm her.

She was both familiar and unknown.

He’d found his center.

Here. With Kat.

His mouth met hers again, this kiss molten and coaxing, his tongue stroking hers in lazy promise. She gasped into his mouth, her fingers twisting in his hair—not guiding,needing.

Last night had been frantic. This was a smolder—heat building between them, thick and deliberate, like an ember stoked with every touch.

All the years they’d held back now distilled into this slow, aching possession.

He trailed lips and teeth along her throat, down the column of her neck. He kissed her collarbone, her breast, teased her nipple with his tongue until she whimpered. Every sound she made hit him low, a visceral punch to his gut. She scratched her nails down his back, and he wanted more of it.

“You drive me mad,” he murmured against her skin.

She giggled, breathless. “Good.”

When he slid down her body, she opened her thighs for him without hesitation. His name left her mouth in a sweet sigh as his mouth closed over her again—he took his time, savoring the sweet taste of her, his tongue swirling around her swollen bud till she was gasping.

Breakfast could burn and the world could end, and none of it would matter as long as he was here, with her.

She came apart with a strangled cry, nails biting into his skin, her breath wrecked against his neck.

And still, he didn’t stop. He rose over her, guided himself against her entrance, and paused—just a breath, just long enough to look into her eyes.

No walls.

No lies.

Just them.

“Kat.” It was an effort to speak, to pause like this. “If we do this… are you sure?”

Her pupils were blown wide, her skin flushed, feverish with need. But her gaze didn’t waver. “We already crossed that line.” She palmed his jaw with softness. “I’m not going back.”

He searched her face—one last heartbeat of hesitation. “You know what that means?”

“Yes.” Her eyes were luminescent. “So do you.”

“I’m not running anymore.”

She nodded once, eyes locked to his, and he pushed inside her with a groan that tore from his soul. Skin on skin. She was silk and fire around him, unguarded and completely his.

She gasped—legs tightening around him, drawing him deeper. “God, Leonid?—”

He moved slowly at first, savoring the friction, the way her body gripped him. Their fingers tangled. Breaths staggered. It was a losing battle to hold the line of his control.

He thrust deep and her cry shattered the last threads of his restraint. Pleasure surged through him, stripping away everything but her.

“You and me,” he ground out, voice broken. “Nothing’s ever felt this right.”

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