The Love Meter
Leon tossed and turned, remaining naked, the glow of their mutual desire dissipating on his body. The moonlit window cast silvery shadows across their bodies. His arm was wrapped around Cynthia's waist, holding her in closer, and his fingers playfully raked through her soft black hair, each hair caressed as if it were sacred.
His gaze never wavered from her face—serene, flushed, lips parted slightly as she breathed. Her warm, soft breath danced against his bare chest with every exhale.
He froze when he sensed the gentle rhythm of her breathing, his hand suspended mid-stroke.
'…She's already asleep?' he whispered to himself, blinking in quiet surprise.
Then a gentle, low chuckle slipped from his lips—so he wouldn't wake her. "One spin, and she's out cold," he whispered, a smile playing at his lips. He bent and laid a soft kiss at the crown of her head.
"So precious," he whispered.
