A shiver runs up your spine as Leon’s breath brushes against your thighs, the warmth sending tiny sparks of electricity along your nerves. His hands rest on your hips, firm but careful, guiding you just enough to hover above him. Every inch of movement feels deliberate, teasing, like he’s drawing out the moment for his own amusement.

His grip tightens slightly—not harshly, just enough to make you acutely aware of him—while his face edges closer. The air between you feels electric, thick with unspoken promise. Your heart hammers in your chest, every nerve buzzing as you take in the deliberate slow glance he gives you, the curl of his lips, the faint gleam in his eyes.

“Baby girl…” he murmurs, voice low and velvety, almost a whisper that sends goosebumps racing along your arms. He licks his lips slowly, deliberate, savoring the moment as if it’s something deliciously forbidden.

“Just sit… I won’t bite you…” His teasing smile tugs at your attention, playful yet charged, a promise dangling between safety and risk. Your breath catches, chest rising and falling quickly, caught in the gravity of him being so close—so aware of the tension he’s creating.

Your body leans instinctively toward him, though you know nothing has to happen. The thrill is in the anticipation, in the way his fingers rest lightly on your hips, in the brush of his hair near your skin, in the tiny shiver that travels through you each time his gaze lingers.

Every small motion—the tilt of his head, the deliberate exhale that drifts across your thighs, the quiet coo of his voice—stretches the tension further, making your pulse race and your thoughts tangle in ways that are entirely his doing. It’s safe, it’s controlled, and yet, it’s intoxicating.

Even after you finally pull back slightly, a playful smirk tugging at your lips, the air seems charged. You can still feel the phantom warmth of him, the lingering pull of his teasing, leaving your mind buzzing in ways you didn’t know were possible.