His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.-Chapter 495 Polite

"Leo... Leo... Leo..." she cried out, her voice breaking as her forehead pressed into the bedsheet, her body seizing in a powerful, trembling climax around him. The feel of her tight, fluttering walls milking him was his undoing. His hips snapped forward one final time, then tightened, his own release imminent.

With a ragged groan of restraint, he pulled himself out of her at the last possible second. His hand wrapped around his throbbing length, stroking harshly, and a hot jet of white shot onto the curve of her reddened backside, marking her with his release.

He groaned, the sound long and spent, and collapsed beside her. Bella lay there, her body limp, breathing in heavy, shuddering gasps. Without hesitation, he leaned over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the center of her damp back before dropping onto the mattress beside her, his own chest heaving.

Bella, still trembling from the aftershocks, rolled toward him, burying her face in the sweat-slick skin of his chest. A soft, hiccupping sob escaped her.

His heart clenched. "Shh... what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice instantly laced with worry. The haze of his own pleasure cleared, replaced by sudden guilt. In his ecstasy, he’d almost forgotten how new this was for her.

"No... not hurt," she murmured, her voice muffled against him. She sniffled softly. "I just feel... something..." The words trailed off, but he understood. The pleasure had been so profound, so overwhelming, that it had spilled over into tears.

"It’s okay," he whispered, his voice infinitely tender. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "It’s okay, bunny."

She took a slow, steadying breath, the exhaustion of their intense lovemaking finally washing over her. Within moments, her breathing evened out into the deep, quiet rhythm of sleep.

Leo carefully extracted himself, placing a pillow in her arms for her to hug. He slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom, where he quietly filled the large bathtub with warm water, adding a few drops of the lavender oil she loved.

When he returned to the room, he found her awake, her drowsy eyes blinking up at him in the dim light.

"Where did you go? Leaving me alone?" she asked, her lower lip pushed out in a sleepy, sad pout.

"Nowhere, my love," he said softly, his heart swelling at the sight. "I just prepared a bath for us."

Bella looked toward the bathroom, her expression one of lazy contentment. She made a small, tired sound but didn’t move.

He understood perfectly. "I’ll help you," he murmured. Leaning down, he gathered her gently into his arms, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. He carried her into the steamy, fragrant bathroom, holding her close, ready to care for her in the warm, quiet aftermath.

He stepped into the large bathtub first, settling into the warm, scented water. Then, with gentle hands, he guided her to settle back against his chest, her body cradled perfectly between his legs. The water rose around them, a warm, soothing embrace that washed away physical traces of their passion.

With her head resting against his shoulder, he reached for the soap and a soft cloth. He started with her arms, lifting each one to trail the warm, sudsy cloth from her fingertips to her shoulders. His movements were slow, methodical, and full of love. He washed her neck, his fingers brushing tenderly over the faint marks he’d left there.

Then his hands drifted lower, beneath the water. He soaped the cloth again and smoothed it over her stomach, his touch so light it was almost a caress. When he moved to her thighs, the washing turned into a massage. His strong hands kneaded the soft skin there, working out the slight tremors, his thumbs pressing firm, soothing circles into her hips where his grip had been most possessive.

One arm stayed wrapped around her waist, holding her secure against him, while his other hand moved to her back, massaging the length of her spine with a firm, loving pressure. He pressed a kiss to the damp crown of her head.

A soft, utterly contented sigh escaped her. "Mm... Thank you, Leo," she whispered, her voice drowsy and muffled against his skin.

He chuckled, the sound a warm vibration against her back. "Very polite," he murmured, his tone playfully admiring.

Then, in a move of pure, affectionate mischief, the hand that had been massaging her hip drifted around her side. Under the cover of the water and bubbles, his fingers found the soft curve of her breast and gave it a gentle, teasing squeeze.

"Ah!" she yelped, jerking in surprise and sending a small wave of water over the edge of the tub. But she was laughing, a bright, startled giggle that filled the steamy room. She tried to twist to look at him, splashing him in the process.

He just held her tighter, grinning unrepentantly against her hair. "Couldn’t resist," he confessed, his voice a low, warm rumble. "My very polite, very beautiful bunny." He nuzzled her ear.

She giggled, the sound light and carefree, and tilted her head to press a soft, grateful kiss to his stubbled cheek, feeling utterly cherished and adored.

When the water began to cool, he carefully helped her out, wrapping her in a large, fluffy white towel as if she were something precious and fragile. He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her back to the bedroom, where he sat her on the edge of the mattress. With a second, smaller towel, he gently dried her damp hair, his fingers combing through the strands with a patience that made her heart feel full.

Once she was dry, he went to his closet and returned holding one of his own soft, well-worn shirts. He helped her into it, the fabric engulfing her small frame, smelling wonderfully of him. She hugged it around herself, looking up at him with a happy, contented smile. He pulled on a pair of casual sweatpants, his own torso still bare.

Then his gaze drifted to the bed, and his lips twitched with a mixture of amusement and awe. The sheets were a tangled, damp testament to the intensity of what they had just shared. They had, indeed, been more than a little crazy.

"Can you wait a little while I change the sheets?" he asked, running a hand through his own still-damp hair, a faint, sheepish grin on his face.

Bella nodded, her cheeks warming with a fresh, sweet blush as she remembered exactly how the sheets had gotten that way.

He left the room and returned moments later with fresh, clean linens. With efficient, movements, he stripped the bed and remade it with the new sheets, tucking the corners in with a sharp precision.

The old, rumpled evidence of their passion was bundled away, replaced by crisp, inviting cotton.

When he finished, he turned to her, his eyes soft in the low light. "All done, bunny," he said, holding out a hand to her. "Our bed is ready."