“Yeah, you do,” he says softly, brushing a damp strand of hair back from my forehead.
Leander’s words hang in the air like a brand against my skin:I love you.
I can still feel them in my chest, echoing, reverberating, cutting through every wall I’ve built. It’s like he’s carved something permanent into me with just those four words, and the worst part—the best part—is that I don’t want it erased.
I swallow hard, my voice raw, unsteady. “I love you too.”
Leander’s eyes widen just slightly, but not in shock. It’s like he already knew, like he was waiting for me to admit it. I press on, my throat tight, but the words spill anyway. “I think I have from the first time you actually smiled at me. Not the fake polite ones, not the nervous ones—your real smile. It fucking leveled me.”
For a second, the room is nothing but silence, the kind that stretches between two people when they’ve both just stepped off a cliff together. And then Leander surges forward, his mouth crashing against mine.
The kiss is fierce, hungry, like he’s been holding himself back for weeks and finally snapped the leash. His hands frame my face, then slide into my hair, pulling me closer until there’s no space left. My head spins, my pulse hammering so fast it feels like I’m still riding the high of the fight from earlier, only sharper, cleaner.
I moan against his mouth, the sound guttural, helpless. I can’t hold it back. And Leander—God—he eats it up, deepening the kiss, angling my head so he can devour me completely.
“Lee—” I rasp when I finally pull back for air, my chest heaving.
“Let me,” he whispers, his lips ghosting against mine. His voice is low, determined, threaded with something I’ve never heard before. Possession. Command. “Let me take care of you tonight.”
The words hit me like a body check. My instinct is to push back, to laugh it off, to remind him I’m the one who takes care of things, the one who doesn’t bend. But I can’t. Not right now. Because the way he’s looking at me—hungry and sure, like I’m something he wants to claim—it undoes me in ways I can’t explain.
I nod. Just once. And it feels like handing him my armor, piece by piece.
His mouth is on mine again instantly, but the kiss shifts—softer at first, gentler. He lingers at the corner of my lips, along my jaw, brushing kisses that are tender enough to make my chest ache. My hands, usually so sure, flutter uselessly against his shoulders, my body betraying me by trembling under his touch.
“You don’t always have to be strong,” he murmurs against my skin. His lips trail down to my neck, sucking lightly, making me shudder. “Not with me.”
My breath stutters, a soft sound escaping me I didn’t mean to let out. His mouth curves against my throat, like he knows exactly what he just pulled from me.
He walks me backward, slow and steady, until my legs bump against the couch. I let him guide me down, sinking into the cushions with him straddling my lap. Usually, I’d flip us by now, take control before I lose it—but I don’t. I just look up at him,my chest rising and falling fast, and let him pin me there with nothing but the weight of his gaze.
Leander kisses me again, deeper, his tongue sliding against mine, and heat pools low in my stomach. His hands roam everywhere. Over my shoulders, down my chest, slipping under the hem of my shirt. His fingers brush my skin, slow at first, teasing, then firmer, mapping me out like he’s memorizing every inch.
“God, you’re perfect,” he mutters, almost angrily, like the words were ripped out of him. He pushes my shirt higher, baring me inch by inch. “Do you even know what you do to me?”
“Lee…” My voice is wrecked, more plea than warning.
His mouth is everywhere now—across my collarbone, down my chest, sucking at sensitive spots until I gasp, my head tipping back. I can’t believe how quickly I’m unraveling under him. No one’s ever made me feel like this—not with touches this soft, kisses this careful, but threaded with a heat that threatens to consume me whole.
And then he changes. The softness burns hotter, turns sharper. His teeth graze my skin, his hands gripping harder at my sides, pulling a groan from deep in my chest.
I realize with a jolt that Leander isn’t just being gentle—he’s claiming. Every press of his lips, every mark of his teeth, every scrape of his nails down my ribs—it’s him taking. And me letting him. I don’t even fight it. I can’t. My whole body is thrumming with need, my cock straining against my jeans, every nerve lit up like fire.
“Leander,” I gasp, my hands gripping at his hips now, desperate for something to hold onto. “Fuck.”
He smirks against my skin, a look that’s new on him, dangerous and devastating. “Yeah. Say my name like that again.”
I groan, head falling back, because I’m losing it. I’ve had people want me before, had people claw at me, beg for me—butthis is different. This ishim. Leander. The kid who used to barely look me in the eye, the one I’ve been circling for months, the one who just told me he loves me.
He starts to move against me, grinding down, and I nearly come apart right there. My hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer, until our foreheads press together, both of us gasping.
“This is…” I start, but the words choke off, incoherent.
“New?” he finishes for me, his lips brushing mine again.
I nod, my voice breaking. “Yeah.”
And then he kisses me hard, swallowing whatever else I was about to say, and I let him.
