His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.-Chapter 547 Mr and Mrs. Moretti

"Don’t think about my injury," he murmured against her lips, his voice a low, intimate rasp. He nipped at her bottom lip gently before pulling back just enough to gaze into her beautiful brown eyes. "There are over sixty nine positions we can try."

Her eyes widened, a mixture of shock and reluctant fascination flickering in their warm brown depths. "Is there really that many?"

"Hmm," he hummed, the sound vibrating against her lips before he pulled back just enough to see her face. His smirk was pure, unadulterated mischief. "I’ve taken the liberty of sorting them. Categorized by feasibility, exertion level, and mutual satisfaction." His hand caressed her thighs in a teasing touch. "We can start with the theoretically sound ones."

A laugh burst from her, incredulous and breathless. "Oh my God. Don’t tell me you actually sat there and researched this. Made charts. Took notes."

"Correct," he said, utterly unashamed. His gaze was steady on hers, lit with a warmth that was both deeply romantic and undeniably carnal. "Consider it a convalescence project. It required a great deal of focus and imagination." He leaned in again, his voice dropping to a whisper that feathered against her ear. "You featured prominently in the imagination part."

She shook her head, her mock scolding failing completely as a smile tugged at her lips. "You’re terrible."

"Thorough," he corrected, nipping gently at her earlobe. "I want you in every way possible, Bella. And if planning it keeps me from going insane while I’m stuck in bed, then yes. I have a very detailed, very promising plan."

The sheer audacity of it, combined with the deep sincerity in his eyes, melted the last of her resistance. It was so him, strategic, intense, and completely, utterly devoted to her.

"Just the theoretically sound ones to start," she whispered, her own voice husky as she finally surrendered, her hands sliding up to cradle his face.

"Deal," he murmured, sealing the promise with a kiss that was slow and deep.

"...so, Mr. Moretti," she whispered, breaking their kiss just enough to form the words against his lips. Her voice was soft, a little breathless, and tinged with a daring she reserved only for him. "What’s the first position you’d suggest?"

His eyes, which had been half lidded with desire, darkened completely. The playful glint hardened into something more intense, more possessive. "Mr. Moretti?" he repeated, the name a low, rough caress in the quiet room.

"I feel like saying it," Bella said, the admission slipping out shyly, even as she held his gaze. There was a blush warming her cheeks, but her eyes sparkled with a quiet challenge and affection. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

The corner of his mouth lifted in a slow, appreciative smirk. He liked it. He liked the sound of his name, his formal, powerful name, turned into a secret, shared endearment on her tongue. It was a reminder of the many roles they played for each other: husband and wife, partner and protector, and in moments like this, simply Leo and Bella.

"Alright then, Mrs. Moretti," he murmured, his voice dropping to an intimate rumble as he pulled her just a fraction closer. "For the first position, I suggest one where I can see every single expression on that beautiful face of yours."

"Something that lets me appreciate you from a new angle," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against her skin. His hands slid from her waist, one arm looping firmly behind her knees. With a careful, steady movement that spoke of strength despite his injury, he guided her down onto the bed beside him, then rolled gently so she was tucked against his uninjured side, half beneath him.

He propped himself up on his elbow, his body a warm, shielding arc over hers. "Like this," he said, his gaze sweeping over her face, then drifting down the length of her body before returning to her eyes. "I’m supported. I can kiss you," he demonstrated with a slow, deep press of his lips to hers, "for as long as I want." He pulled back, his thumb tracing her jaw. "And my good hand," he added, his fingers trailing a tantalizing path from her collarbone down to her hip, "is completely free to explore."

Bella felt surrounded by him, his heat, his scent, his focused attention. Her breath came quicker.

"Mr. Moretti," she whispered again, the name now a term of endearment laced with awe and a growing, answering need. "You’ve really thought of everything."

"I told you," he said, leaning up to capture her lips in a deep, searing kiss before settling back, his gaze burning into hers. "I’m very thorough."

His "well researched, hands on approach" began with a slow, deliberate touch that had nothing to do with haste and everything to do with rediscovery.

His free hand, the one he’d boasted was completely available, didn’t rush. It mapped her. The pad of his thumb swept over the pulse fluttering at the base of her throat, then traced the line of her clavicle, as if committing its shape to memory all over again. His touch was warm, slightly rough, and unbearably precise.

"This was the first thing I missed," he confessed, his voice a low vibration against her temple as his fingers journeyed down her arm, lifting it to place a soft kiss in the center of her palm before lacing their fingers together and resting their joined hands on the pillow beside her head. "The feel of your skin. The exact temperature of it."

Bella could only sigh, her eyes closing as sensation overwhelmed her. Everywhere his skin met hers, it felt like a circuit completing, a quiet click of rightness after weeks of static.

His exploration continued, his hand sliding down her side, over the curve of her waist, his touch firm enough to feel possessive but gentle enough to be a question. His lips followed a different path, leaving soft, open mouthed kisses along her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, before finally returning to her lips for a deep, languid kiss that tasted of patience and pent up need.

When he broke the kiss, he didn’t go far. His forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling. "The second thing I missed," he whispered, his gaze searing into hers, "was this look in your eyes. Right now. When you’re here with me, and nowhere else."