Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 82: A Dawn of Intimacy

A Dawn of Intimacy

The first light of dawn crept through the curtains in gleaming golden silk, bathing the room in the warm glow. It softened gently across the bed, lighting the coils of limbs and silver-stamped skin that were stretched out together under the bedclothes.

Leon moved first, golden eyes slowly opening to accommodate the light. His eyes went immediately to the woman who was huddled in his side—Cynthia. Her gentle breathing whispered against his bare chest, her dark lashes twitching very slightly as she slept. Her long black hair draped across his shoulder like a silken shawl, bits of it caught tenderly on his skin.

His arm remained around her, hand hovering above her hips, and he didn’t stir—didn’t dare break the tranquility of this moment. Her leg was thrown over his, skin to skin, and his other hand – fingers knotted loosely in her hair. For a long time, he just lay there, watching her sleep.

Her mouth was slightly ajar, her breathing slow and even, her breasts rising with each breath. the sheet was long gone, exposing them completely to one another and to the morning.

She was. beautiful.

His gaze wandered lower, appreciating the shape of her hip, the delicate love bruises running from her neck, across her breast, down her belly, and along her inner thigh—bruises made by him.

He smiled gently, remembering last night. The way she had shivered in his arms. The way she had gazed at him when she surrendered—body and soul.

"She’s mine now," he told himself, a tender smile curving on his lips.

He stroked a knuckle down her back, light as a feather, and sensed her move against him in reaction. Her inner thigh brushed gently against his groin, where his dick —refusing and ready—had come back in the warmth of dawn.

He groaned deep in his throat. Even now? He cursed his endurance—though he had no qualms about last night’s choice.

He inched closer, brushing a light kiss across her temple, drawing in the loamy richness of her hair. She fluttered lightly awake, brow wrinkled as though fighting the claim of consciousness.

"Morning, priestess," he whispered, his voice husky and bantering.

Cynthia moved against him and made a soft noise—half sigh, half whimper—as she blinked up at him, dazed and endearingly confused. For an instant, her sleepy eyes didn’t know where she was—or whose chest her cheek lay against. Then recognition flooded her face like a wave.

A rosy blush spread over her cheeks.

"Good morning. Lord," she whispered, voice still husky with sleep.

Leon laughed, the low, teasing sound as he kissed her forehead.

"Mmm... wrong title, priestess," he whispered against her skin.

Cynthia slowly opened her eyes, still half-asleep. "Huh...?"

"I—I didn’t mean." she stuttered, her tone soft, embarrassed-thick.

He smiled warmly, a hint of teasing glint in his eyes as he stroked her cheek with the tip of his thumb. "I know," he breathed, his voice husky. "But you belong to me now. So, just say ’husband’. or Leon." Or..." his voice reduced to a whisper, "— ’darling’ or ’hubby’ if you feel like being lovey-dovey or sassy."

She squeaked, burying her face in his neck. "D- Da- Darling..." she breathed in protest, but it was laced with flustered laughter.

"I’ll take that," he whispered, sliding his hand along her hips to pull her closer.

Their skin pressed together fully now—her breasts against his chest, his arousal thick and hot between her soft folds.

She emitted a soft, raspy moan, "Mmm." her body shaking. She froze, his erection prodding at her. Her breath hitched, a tiny "hiss" passing from her lips.

Leon experienced it as well, a low "grrr." escaping him as he feels her lips close around his cock —A smirk played at his lips as rubbing slightly just to see her shiver.

A gentle "shhh." passed from her lips, her breathing unsteady.

"Still sensitive?" he breathed, his voice barely audible.

As she let out a soft, breathy moan, "Ahh." She nodded a small, shaking head against his neck. Her legs automatically pressed together, contracting his dick in their gentleness. "A little sore..." she confessed, bashful.

"But you like right?" he teased, lips tracing her collarbone.

"A bit sore. down there," she conceded, her voice hesitent and quiet, her cheeks a flush of deep pink as she cast her gaze to the side, embarrassed.

"But you like it, don’t you?" he whispered, his lips on the curve of her collarbone, his warm, lingering breath on her skin.

Her reply came in rapid sequence, hasty and breathless, "...y-yes." She blinked at him, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with vulnerability and trust.

Leon smiled knowingly, his eyes glinting with amusement, and then shifted slightly, leaning in. His lips landed on hers in a long, slow kiss—gentle to begin with, but with a hint of heat beneath. It was a tender kiss, but playful, with just a trace of mischief in the way his lips pressed against hers.

As the kiss grew more intense, she responded eagerly, her hands moving to draw him closer, a soft hum of satisfaction escaping. She relaxed into the kiss, surrendering to the promise of passion and love.

He at last drew back far enough to gaze at her, his smile growing wider. "Good," he whispered, a satisfied, teasing glint in his eyes.

"I’m bringing you to the bath," he whispered, his voice deep and rumbling against her skin. "You need it. And I... need it too, before we go to the capital."

She blushed angrily, her heart pounding, but nodded in affirmation, a combination of excitement and nervousness rushing through her.

Leon smiled softly as he pulled the sheet around her gently, scooping her into his arms with practiced ease. She gasped softly, clinging to his shoulders, their bodies flush as he stood.

"Still flustered?" he teased, walking them through the suite toward the bath chamber.

"You’re carrying me naked," she said, hiding her face.

"I’ve already seen every inch of you," he teased, standing with her wrapped in his arms. "Touched. Kissed. Even."

"Stop—!" she laughed, burying her face in his neck.

He chuckled, pleased with the reaction.

Leon guided her into the warm, softly lit bath chamber, the air thick with steam and the scent of crushed herbs and rose petals. The water shimmered invitingly in the tub. With no hesitation, he got in, the two of them naked, already warmed by their own heat. He gently guided them both into the bath, his arms still wrapped around her as they leaned into the water’s warmth. The curl of steam wreathed around them, enhancing the serenity of the moment.

Her warm flesh caressed the cold water, and she breathed softly when it enveloped them. She sank into his hold, her arms going around the back of his neck as he leaned against the tub with his back, wrapping his arms tightly around her in his lap.

"Feels. so amazing," she breathed, her lips skimming his ear as she settled into him completely.

"This. feels amazing," she breathed, burrowing into the hollow of his neck.

Leon’s lips grazed her temple, a gentle smile curving his mouth. "No, you feel amazing."

She flushed a little, heat rising in her chest.

She shifted, and the silky underside of her thigh swept against his lengthened hardness elicited a dick. Her breath hitched. Her eyes came up—wide, questioning.

"Still?" she whispered, flushed cheeks.

He looked into her eyes, a grin teasing at his lips. "You’re sitting naked on me in a hot bath. What do you expect?"

She laughed gently, but the sound weakened as his hand moved up the side of her, warm and slow. His palm covered her breast, thumb stroking over her nipple with slow deliberation. Her breathing caught, her back curving ever so slightly as her nipples reacted to his touch—contracting under the warmth of his palm.

Leon gave a soft, slow squeeze, savoring the way her body reacted—how she melted into him, how her moan slipped out in a breathy, helpless sound, sweet and utterly feminine.

"Mmh... Leon..."

"And yet..." he murmured, letting his hand settle on her hip—possessive, but achingly gentle. "You’re still here... naked, soaked, and draped over me. Haven’t moved an inch from my arms."

She smiled reluctantly, coming forward to kiss his jaw. "Because I don’t want to."

He laughed low in his throat, the vibration humming softly against her. His hands crept to her hips, hard but respectful, pushing her even closer until there was no room left between them. Her breath caught as his lips touched hers—just a gentle, passing kiss, like a promise. Her arms tightened around his neck in return, holding on automatically.

He smiled into her hair, his cheek against the wet strands. They held that way for a moment—bodies underwater, skin pressed against skin, the water’s warmth churning lazily around them like a cocoon.

At last, he picked up a tiny vial of oil and massaged her hair, his fingers tracing slow, gentle circles over her scalp. Cynthia released a soft moan, eyes drifting shut, her face relaxing into pure bliss.

"You spoil me," she breathed.

"Wives should be spoiled," he said, his voice gentle but unyielding. "Especially ones who look this good naked."

She laughed and gave him a playful splash to the chest. "Leon!"

He grinned, watching her flushed face with amusement. So, this is Cynthia now—blushing, bold, blooming. Not like Aria, who took her quiet time to unfold... or Rias, that natural-born seductress. Each so different. And yet, all mine.

"I’m just being honest," he murmured, grabbing her wrist and placing a kiss to her palm.

Their laughter dissolved into silence once more—easy, warm, with something deeper in it.

She raised her face to him, eyes soft, mouth barely open. "Thank you. For last night. For being mine. For being... gentle."

He looked back at her, golden eyes shadowed by tenderness. "Thank you... for trusting me For being mine."

Their mouths touched again—slow, gentle. No hunger, no urgency. Just silent affection shared in a kiss that hung there like a sigh.

Surrounded by the steam and the faint smell of herbs and rose petals, they wrapped each other in a world of their own. Whatever existed outside that bath did not matter. Only skin and warmth and breath.

Later, Leon picked up the soaps and oils again, indulging. He washed her back with tender hands, letting the soap trail down her shoulder, then along the curve of her spine. His fingers drew across her sides, stroking the gentle curve of her breasts, before moving lower—across her belly, to the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. His touch was slow, intentional, and teasing, and She shivered, arching into his touch with a soft, breathy hum.

A flush painted her cheeks as she leaned forward to take him with soap in her hand to come back. Her palms slid over his chest, up and over his shoulders, then slowly back down again in slow, circular motions. She circled her fingers languidly, smiling as he stiffened under her teasing touch—soft, reverent, but unmistakably bold.

Leon’s thoughts strayed to blacker things, caught on the slant of her waist, the way water droplets clung to her skin, and the pink flush of her cheeks. Each inch of her cried out for his attention, for him to possess her. He ached to draw her near, to whisper things that would send shivers down her back, to let the steam swirl with the heat between them.

He pictured pushing her softly against the slippery rim of the tub, his mouth tracing the fragile curve of her neck, fingers tracing the softness of her form. The possibility of her, so near, so warm, awakened something wild within him—a hunger to f\\*ck her, consumed by the bliss of mutual intimacy.

The moment was delicate—too fragile, too intimate, too lovely—a delicacy he wasn’t prepared to shatter.

So, they washed one another—hands seeking with soft, provocative touches, kisses given softly as the water splashed around them. Every touch was a promise unspoken, a waltz of intimacy where time stood still, and all that existed was the heat of their bodies against one another. The moment hung there, tender and charged, leaving them suspended in the silence they shared, savoring each other’s presence in the warm light of the bath.