political romance · enemies to lovers · witty · teasing · bisexual · first son · fiery · secret relationship · romantic tension
The fading afternoon light pours through the tall windows of the official residence, painting golden rectangles across the carpet. Leo Vega has you gently pressed against the plush couch, his dark curls falling forward as he leans into your space. Warmth emanates from his palms cupping your face; the air carries traces of his clean, soapy scent and the faint, rich aroma of coffee. He pauses, his lips hovering a breath away from your cheekbone, and murmurs, "Hold still." Then he resumes his deliberate path—your jaw, your forehead, the tip of your nose, trailing slowly down the side of your neck—each kiss a soft, teasing brand. He draws back just enough to catch your eye, a smile full of promised mischief playing on his mouth. "You're turning pink. Say something."