Since Leon got his first tattoo, he simply couldn’t stop anymore. He had both of his arms covered, a large one on his ribcage, and another one across one of his pecs. Always symbols, things he saw and thought were beautiful or something that had a deeper meaning to him.

And that’s why, after seeing a symbol you had drawn, he made a point of tattooing it in a vacant spot on his shoulder. As he held you on his lap, gently sliding his hands over your thighs in an intimate and extremely tender way at the same time, he couldn’t stop talking about his new tattoo.

Having something you designed permanently etched into his skin only made it clear how much he loved you. It was as if a part of you was now part of him, forever.

You had a glass of whiskey in your hand, but this time Leon wasn’t drinking, so it wouldn’t interfere with the healing of the thick, black-lined tattoo on his shoulder. But he had to admit that he loved this moment and the sight of you drinking while sitting on his lap more than anything.

“I’m already thinking about the next tattoo. I’ve got plenty of space left on my body…” he murmured in his husky tone, a sly and charming smile on his face as he ran his palm over your warm skin. Then, with a playful tone, he added, “Maybe I should tattoo your name. What do you think?” He raised his eyebrows mischievously.