Fin

Leon holds his door open for you, ushering you to enter ahead of him. His apartment is plain. Despite his loyalty to the team his home lacks personality, as if he's waiting to be transferred to another club. Your heart aches at the lack of decorations across his space, it screams the home of someone who can't choose to settle, it hurts you.

"Sorry about the mess," Leon is quiet as he speaks, his insecurities bleeding through as you enter his space. He kicks his shoes off by the door and you copy, shaking your head.

You try to hide the sorrow in your eyes as you look at him, "Don't worry about it. It's-" You take a breath, "it's nice."

Leon only hums, moving through to the kitchen. He's searching through his fridge, and then through his cupboards, distressed breaths leaving him, "I don't really have much in."

You can tell he's disappointed in himself by the way he speaks, and the urge to make him feel better overcomes you. You walk over to join him in the kitchen, leaning on one of the counters, "Maybe we can order something?" You ask. There's a sigh that leaves his mouth and you're determined to beat it, interrupting before he has the chance to refute you. "Then we can spend more time together, right?"

He seems happier at you wanting to be with him, and the ease that crosses his face at you taking control stirs something within you. You step towards him, effectively cornering him in his own kitchen. Your arms reach up to wrap around his neck, voice dropping to a whisper, "We can do whatever you want."

Leon shudders under you as you speak, his lips parting slightly as his gaze drops to your lips. You run a hand up the back of his neck to his head, tangling your fingers through his hair and pulling on it slightly. Leon groans and you pull harder. His head tilts back with your hand, this time a whimper falls from his lips and you watch as his adam's apple bobs in his throat. You press your lips to it, letting your tongue run across it, and when you feel it move again you scrape your teeth over it.

The whine of "Fuck," that leaves him emboldens you and you resist the urge to bite down.

Then, you step away from Leon, hands leaving him completely as you turn away from him, "You got any ideas for what to order?"

Leon is silent and when you turn back to look at him the glare in his eyes has you smirking, your eyes falling down to the obvious bulge in his pants. You look back at his face, trying to feign an innocent look. "Don't you need to regain your energy after..." you can't help the grin that crosses your face while you speak, "earlier?"

The blush that coats Leon’s face makes you giggle, but you push down the urge to tease him more.

You can save that for later.

Leon sighs, stepping towards you. At first, you think he’s going to back you into the counter behind you in revenge. He stops just in front of you, “I think you know, what I’m craving right now.” His voice is low when he speaks, and you can hear the need in it. He reaches a hand up to cup your face, thumb running across your bottom lip and you push down the urge to draw it into your mouth. "You're enjoying teasing me, aren't you?"

You tilt your head to the side as you look at him.

"What if I am?"

He chuckles at you, shaking his head, "What am I going to do with you, sweetheart?" His hand moves from your cheek to your neck, squeezing slightly then letting go.

You step back and the counter presses into you, and Leon moves to grab your waist. He pulls you into his chest and at first you think he’s going to kiss you, then he reaches down to grab your thighs.

He lifts you off the ground, and you quickly grab his shoulders. A gasp leaving your lips, as you wrap your legs around his waist. It's Leon's turn to smirk, the tilt of his lips fitting him, as he carries you to his couch.

Whilst he moves, you take the oportunity to run your hands over his shoulders and down his arms, squeezing along his muscles. You lean forward to press your lips against the side of his neck, the kisses you place against it becoming small bites that make him grunt.

Leon's gentle as he places you on the couch, lowering you down slowly before kneeling between your legs to hover over you. He pulls his face away from yours forcing you to stop biting his neck. "I thought you wanted something to eat, hm?" He teased.

You claw at his shoulders trying to pull him back down to you. He resists, and you watch as his arms bulge against his shirt as he holds himself up.

It only makes you hungrier.

"I do, Leon," you whine, trying to buck your hips against his. You manage to brush against his crotch but the friction isn't enough to satiate you.

You try again. This time, when he moves his hand to pin you down, you lean up quickly, trying to bite at his neck again.

Leon's faster, years of honing quick reflexes from playing rugby aid him as he leans away from you. He brings his other hand up to splay across your collarbone, holding you down. The size of hand has your mouth watering, and you try to wriggle out of his grasp.

Leon chuckles at you, "Sorry, but I'm not on the menu." You roll your eyes at his attempted wit, but stop fighting against him. He can win for now.

"What should we order?" Your voice sounds breathy as you speak and you try to work out whether it's from trying to escape his grasp, or how turned on you are.

Leon lets go of you, shifting to sit back on the couch without letting his eyes leave you. "I don't think anywhere abides to my meal plan." he releases a dramatic sigh, "I don't think my lovely trainer would be too happy with that."

You shuffle to sit up, "I think I can make an exception." Stretching your legs out to lay across his thighs, you tilt your head back feigning thought. "Maybe if you feed your lovely trainer too..." You trail off.

Leon rests his hands on your legs, rubbing small circles into them that make you sigh. "Does pizza sound good?"

You perk up at his suggestion, moving again to sit next to him with a chipper exclamation of, "Pizza sounds good!"

He smiles at you, enjoying the feeling of you against him. Leon's quick to grab his phone after you agree on pizza, and you order together, thanking him profusely when he pays for yours.

"20 minutes, huh?" You lean your head against his shoulder, tilting your face up to look at him, "What should we do to kill time?" Your question is serious, but the blush that immediately covers Leon's cheek has your mind drifting to images of his head between your thighs.

"Can I kiss you?" His question has you falling out of your daydream and it's your turn to blush at how different your thoughts were. You can only nod.

This time, it's enough for him and he pulls you into his lap to press his lips into yours. You kiss back, threading one hand through his hair and gripping his shoulder with the other. When he tilts his head to deepen the kiss you open your mouth, allowing his tongue to press inside. It brushes against yours and he groans into your mouth. His hands coming to grip your hips as you begin to grind against him. You can feel yourself soaking through your underwear from the friction. Moans spilling into Leon's mouth, which he reciprocates with some of his own as he hardens under you.

He pulls away from your mouth allowing you both to catch your breaths, but he speaks through his panting. "Want you to ride my face, sweetheart."

His hands continue to move you in his lap and you struggle to get your words out through your moans, managing to sigh out a "Please."

As soon as you speak, Leon's placing a brief kiss on your lips then shifting to lay down on the couch. His hands come to the waistband of your pants, tugging at them to signal you to take them off. "Please, sweetheart, I need to taste you."

You shift off of him, slowly sliding your pants and underwear off and Leon rolls his head back, groaning at your teasing. You step back towards him, kneeling on the couch next to his head. He reaches up to grab your waist, helping you move to straddle his face. You're tentative as you lower your self down, whimpering at the feeling of his breath against you.

He looks up at you, flicking his tongue out to brush against your clit. Your hips twitch forward, a moan falling from you and Leon's hands tighten around your hips, "I told you, to ride my face."

He pulls you down to fully seat you on his face, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking. The contact has you crying out his name, hips bucking against his face. He groans against you, the vibrations of his voice bringing you more pleasure. His hands shift to your thighs, gripping tight as he laps at you.

"Fuck, Leon," you continue to grind on his face, his nose brushing your clit, "You feel so good."

He moans in response and you grind harder, your hand coming to grip his hair, tugging on it. His tongue pushes into you, tasting you deeper, and you rock back and forth on it. The feeling of his warm muscle inside you has your legs tightening around his head.

As he continues to thrust his tongue inside you, your grinding speed up alongside your building orgasm. You pull on his hair at his ministrations and he moans into you, his hips bucking up into the air. Moans are spilling from your mouth, whimpered begging slurring with cries of his name. Leon feels you clench against his tongue as it curls inside you, licking against your walls.

You're sobbing now as your orgasm nears, thighs twitching around his head with your building pleasure. He's groaning against you as you use him, his dick twitching in his pants, leaking for you.

"M'close, Leon," you whine and he continues his efforts, moving his hands back up to your waist to assist your grinds.

Your pleasure builds fast, eyes rolling back into your head and your back arching above him. His eyes are glued on you, watching as your orgasm washes over you, moans falling from both of you. He's entranced by the pleasure on your face, the desire to see it again flooding him. His hips twitch against the couch, a wet patch blossoming across his pants.

You collapse forwards over him, resting against the arm of the couch. Leon continues lapping at you, tasting your orgasm. It quickly becomes too much for you, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, hips spasming against him. "Too- fuck," you whimper, "It's too much, Leon."

He retracts his tongue, rubbing up and down your sides as you catch your breath. He helps you move back off his face to sit on his chest, his mouth glistening with your cum. You're still breathless and slumped over him, and he continues to rub at your sides while you come down.

"I've got you," his voice is gentle as he speaks to you, "Did so well for me." You can only manage a hum, your breath slowing as you recover with a smile crossing your face. "We need to get you cleaned up, okay?" He adds.

"Think you need to change your shirt as well." You reply and Leon chuckles at your comment.

He swings his legs off the couch as he helps you sit back against it. Grabbing your pants and underwear from the floor, then bending down to slide an arm benath your knees and wrapping the other around your back to lift you up. "You okay, sweetheart?" He asks, carrying you to his bathroom.

You hum in response, letting your head rest against his shoulder, content with how his arms wrap around you.

He places you gently on the counter, resting your clothes beside you then moving to grab some tissues to clean you up with. It's then that you notice the damp patch across his crotch, your hunger reigniting from the evidence of him getting off on your pleasure.

Despite being careful as he wipes you, you're still sensitive and you whimper, your legs twitching as you try hold them open. He rests his free hand on your thigh, rubbing circles to soothe you.

Once he's cleaned you up, he drops to his knees in front of you, sliding you underwear back up your legs, and you lift your hips to aid him. He does the same with your pants, then he moves to the sink to wash his face, using fresh tissue to dry it off. "I need to change my shirt, sweetheart. You okay to finish cleaning yourself off?"

You reach out for him without replying, and he's quick to step over to you, concern crossing his face. Before he can say anything you pull him down to press your lips against his. It's a soft kiss and you break away quickly, a smile crossing your face, "I'm okay, Leon."

With Leon leaving to change his clothes, you slide off the counter, having to catch yourself on it when your legs threaten to collapse under you. You turn to face the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror. Sweat coats your face, your hair sticking out at odd angles, so you attempt to clean yourself up, trying to fix your hair to appear more presentable.

When you leave the bathroom, the smell of greasy takeout washes over you and you can feel your mouth watering. Leon's in the kitchen collecting plates from a cupboard, pizza boxes laid out on his coffee table. You are quick to notice the clean shirt and sweatpants hugging his form.

He looks over to you when he hears your footsteps, "You okay with eating there, or would you prefer to eat at the table?" There it is again, the slight insecurity bleeding through. It catches you off guard that a man that's such a force on the pitch, a player that exudes confidence when he's on the field, can be so awkward in his own home.

"I'm happy to eat wherever," you smile at him and he relaxes once more, a weight seemingly lifted off his shoulders.

"I'll bring everything over, okay?" There's a cute smile on his face as he speaks, one you you remember seeing on him more frequently during his academy days. You nod, ingraining the image of his older, more mature face graced with a boyish smile into your memory.

You settle onto the couch, and Leon joins you moments later, offering you a plate as he sits beside you. The two of you reach forward towards the coffee table, you grab a couple of pizza slices while Leon reaches for the TV remote. He hands it to you, "You can put something on if you want," then goes back to grab pizza for himself.

You turn the TV on, scrolling through the channels, talking without looking at him. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to watch?"

Leon shakes his head, finishing the food in his mouth before speaking, "I don't mind." He shifts himself on the couch, angling his body to face you more, "Maybe just something for background noise since I'd much rather hear your voice, sweetheart."

You chuckle at his flirting, selecting a random channel and swivelling to face him. "You're right, we should discuss the match." Taking another bite to hide your smirk, you watch as Leon groans rolling his eyes.

"You really want to talk about that," a pout forms on his face and you can't help yourself from laughing at how ridiculous he looks. Your reaction only makes him more dramatic, shifting to face away from you.

Met with the sturdy form of his back you sigh, placing you plate down on the floor beside you. "Awww, does my big, strong rugby player not want to talk about it?" You wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning yourself over his back. "Are you sulking because someone winked at me?" You chuckle at his silence, turning back to finish your pizza.

"He deserved it," his words are a quiet mumble and it takes you a minute to work out what he said.

Once you do you can't help but roll your eyes, not completely understanding his jealousy. "You were jealous of Redfield, so you lashed out," he turns back to you now, pout gone but the frown ingrained in his features. "Leon, you can't keep doing this."

"You know his name?" His question catches you off guard and you can hear the jealousy in his tone.

"I- It's in big letters on the back of his shirt, you can't miss it."

"So you were staring at his back?" His jealousy takes an almost teasing tone, as if he's trying to catch you out.

"Leon it was announced to the entire stadium when he got sin binned." You shake your head, trying to stop yourself from encouraging him being like this. "Look that's not the point, okay?" You want to avoid an argument after how well you've been getting along, and you finish the rest of your pizza before speaking. "The point is that this isn't a one off issue," you place your empty plate on the table so you can turn properly to face him. "You're getting a reputation for retaliating, Leon, and every time you do it harms the team."

Leon discards his plate on the table next to yours and leans back against the couch, throwing his head back woth a sigh. "I know, okay?" He continues to avoid eye contact with you, "I'm trying to get better at it."

The softness that bleeds into Leon's voice pulls at your heart strings and you reach over to cup his face, needing to comfort him. "I'll help you." you smile at him when he looks at you trying to convey your complete sincerity, "I am your lovely trainer after all, right?"

Carlos was cautious with his bites at first, afraid to hurt you, afraid to leave scars. When he realised how much you got off on them, he became less reluctant to cover you in them. The small bites he took out of you satiating two types of his hunger. Now when you're under him, he's insatiable, his need to make you cum for him joining his need to feast on you.

Your hands are tangled in Carlos' hair, gripping it tight, as his tongue moves across your clit. Alternating between small kitten licks that have you arching into him and longer, slower licks that travel down, dipping the tip of his tongue into your hole.

"Fuck, Carlos," you're tugging at his hair now, torn between pulling him away from you and pulling him closer. Your thighs twitch around his head and he grips them tighter, holding them down against the bed, holding you open for him.

His tongue leaves your clit again, sliding down to thrust into you. This time, with each thrust, his tongue pushes deeper into you, and you buck against his face, fucking yourself on his tongue.

Your head is rolled back onto the bed, eyes falling shut at the pleasure. Your moans fill the room, broken up by him groaning into you when you tug harshly on his hair.

He slides his tongue out of you, moving back up to flick over your clit. Your back arches against him when he sucks it into his mouth, a loud cry of his name leaving your lips. He grazes his teeth against it and you shiver.

"Fuck, baby, you taste so good." He's moaning against you now, one hand leaving your thigh to press a finger into you. It reaches deeper than his tongue and when he curls it, it presses against your sweet spot causing you to cry out.

"I know baby, I know," Carlos places kisses along your thighs, adding a second finger to thrust into you. His fingers stretch you open as they curl into you, continuously pressing into the point inside you that has you seeing stars.

The kisses across your thighs turn into small bites, not hard enough to break the skin, but the sting mixes with the pleasure from his fingers. You arch into him, one hand leaving his hair to tangle into the bedsheets.

"Please, Carlos," you're getting close now. The mix of his fingers curling into you and the bites he's scattering across you thighs pushing you towards your orgasm.

His bites turn rougher, and when they break the skin he moans against your thighs at the taste of you. He continues biting you, small nips mixed with harsher bites that break the skin. Small chunks of your thighs are swallowed down by your boyfriend as his fingers repeatedly hit your g spot. You're groaning every time he takes a bite out of you, the feeling of pain pushing you further towards the edge.

A harsh bite into your thigh has you crashing through your orgasm, the hand in his hair tightening and pulling against his scalp. You cum with a cry of his name, your hips thrusting against his hand, as his fingers continue their movements.

He mouths against your thighs, lapping the blood that spills from your bite wounds. You're quickly pushed into overstimulation as he continues his movements, "Carlos," you whine, "Too much."

Standing watching rugby games usually wouldn't class as a job, you however, were paid to pay very close attention to everything that occurred on field. As one of the team's trainers, it was crucial that you recognised how the players could improve, and how they were responding to training sessions.

This game was different, two neighbouring clubs, two long-term rivals, battling it out. This was the type of game that always brought large crowds and aggressive players. Every tackle was heard throughout the stadium, with multiple stoppages due to player injury happening during the first half. Even now, at the start of the second half, the rough hits are still coming. You assume it's due to the rest all the players have just had, that doesn't make it any less stressful for you to watch. It's made worse when you see your star player, Leon, get high tackled. The built arm of the opposition's player wrapping directly around his jaw.

Leon hits the grass hard.

Immediately, the referee blows the whistle and play is stopped. Physios are quick to enter the field, running across the pitch to reach him despite him already standing up. You are also needed on the pitch, to speak to the rest of the players as the form a huddle. You have to focus on your job. Not on the tackle, not on Leon already standing back up, and especially not on the blood he spits from his mouth.

You shake your head trying to focus on deliving your messages to the players huddled in front of you. Telling them what they're doing well, and how to improve. Maybe you are occasionally sneaking glances at Leon, maybe you had been doing that for the whole game, maybe you'd been doing it every time you've seen him play.

Who can blame you? Leon Kennedy wasn't just an impressive player to watch, but he was also unbelievably attractive. A fan favourite, with edits of him on tiktok reaching people who'd never watched the sport before. You couldn't blame them, the man had a pretty face, with even prettier eyes you struggled not to lose yourself in whenever you spoke with him. And when he played, not only did his shirt hug his chest and biceps, but his shorts clung to his thighs and ass, you were almost surprised they didn't rip.

You looked back to Leon, having finished talking to the team. The physios were just finishing up their work, the bleeding had been stopped but it still coated his lips, a stead stream running down his chin and forming drops that fell. God you wished you could lick it off him. You had to focus, with the physios finished you'd be leaving the field soon, and you could hear the referee talking to the player that had tackled Leon.

He had made a decision, with a yellow card held high in the air the player was sent to the sin bin. Despite this only lasting ten minutes it was a great advantage for your team. The downside, you had to walk off alongside this player, and while you didn't exactly mind looking at him (especially enjoying the view when he stepped ahead of you), he had just injured Leon. A player who was gaining a reputation for his tendency to retaliate. To make matters worse the smirk he wore showed no signs of regret, and the quick wink he shot you before walking down the tunnel made heat bloom across your face. You were quick to join back with the other trainers, hoping for the team to put in a powerful ten minutes with the player advantage. It was a challenge for you to focus however, the images of the wink sent your way along with the blood dripping from Leon's mouth seemed intent on holding your attention.

Ten minutes passes fast when your team is playing well, and the tries they have managed to rack up in the time should hold them over for a victory. You're still worried about Leon though, the player who injured him has been warming up on the sidelines, and you hope upon his return Leon will manage to keep his cool.

As the player re-enters the field you notice Leon immediately spot him, sporting a glare so intense that you're impressed his target's response is to smirk. That's not going to end well. Within minutes of his return, there's another play stoppage, and whilst this one is unrelated to either player, the two are quick to come together. A comment thrown by Leon met with only a chuckle from the opposing player. Before you know it Leon's arm is swinging at him, fist clenched in a clear punch that makes direct contact to the player's cheek. Players from both teams instantly rush in, trying to both pull their player away from the incident and shove the other players back. It takes some time for the referee to settle everyone down and separate them, but you already know how this will end. The crowd's already chanting for him to be sent off. Leon will be shown a red card and sent off, for the remainder of the game.

With the red card shown, cheers from fans of the opposing team can be heard around the stadium. Leon leaves the field, a scowl still painted on his face as he heads down the tunnel into the changing room. The coach's voice speaks through your earpiece sharply, delivering the order to calm Leon down, then disconnecting. You remove your earpiece and head to the changing room, following Leon's path from moments ago.

He's looking directly at you when you enter, he's sat on the corner section of the bench, leaning back against the wall. The first thing you notice is that his eyes look darker, clouded by anger. You open your mouth, struggling to find the best words for the situation, just to spit out, "Coach sent me down to have a word with you." He rolls his eyes, lifting his legs onto the bench and stretching them out. He looks way to relaxed for a man who just punched someone, even with a frown on his face. You cross your arms, standing up straight as you step further into the room, "Don't have attitude with me Kennedy, you're the one who punched a player." He looks at you again, for a moment you think he won't respond, he mumbles a "Deserved it," and you scoff.

"You can't just punch players that wind you up Kennedy! How many times are we going to have to tell you this?" He smirks at you, tilting his head in your direction, "If they're gonna send you down every time, maybe I'll keep doing it." You blush at his flirting, disappointed in yourself, but also thrilled at the attention you're getting from the attractive man in front of you. Leon notices your reaction, sliding his legs off the bench to sit facing you, getting a direct view of your flushed cheeks. You speak through your embarrassment, "You just punched someone for high tackling you, after he'd been sin binned for it. You're going to need a better excuse then wanting to see me Kennedy." Leon pushed himself to his feet, the frown back on his face as he takes slow steps towards you, "What if that's not why I hit him?" It's your turn to frown now, stepping back to keep space between the two of you, "What other reason do you have-" Leon's hand snaps forward grabbing your wrist, it's a strong hold but not tight enough to hurt you. "I saw him look at you as he walked off," there's a growl in his voice as he speaks, "What did he say to you?"

"He never said anything," you try pulling your wrist free, but Leon just pulls you closer. You're almost chest to chest, close enough to feel the air leaving him as he speaks, "What did he do when he looked at you?" His voice is low, sounding almost dangerous, and you feel yourself getting wet at the sound. "I- He just winked at me." Leon shakes his head, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly, "And you blushed?" He'd been paying that much attention? Your blush returns at the idea of Leon watching you, thoughts of other things he could watch you doing filling you mind. "You punched him because of that?" It's your turn to roll your eyes, "Leon you can't just hit someone for making me blush."

"You just called me Leon," you can hear the smirk in his voice, "Say it again." The way he speaks to you, the way you've had multiple dreams like this, makes you want to obey his command. You shake your head, refusing to give him what he wants, Leon releases your wrist just to wrap his arm around you waist. He holds you close,"Can I make you say it?" Your eyes widen, you can feel his chest rising with every breath and your body craves to feel him more. "How?" Your voice is airy as it comes out, shaking slightly. "Can I kiss you?" All you can do is nod, but that's not enough for Leon, "Say it." You sigh out a "Please," and he closes the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours.

You reach your hand up to cup his face and pull him closer. He leans into you, his free hand moving to run up your spine and rest at the nape of your neck. You open your mouth, flicking your tongue against his lips to deepen the kiss. The taste of blood still lingers on his lips and you bite back a moan, slipping your tongue into Leon's mouth when he lets you. You can taste his blood better here, running your tongue across the inside of his lips, feeling the small scars caused by the high tackle. He sqeezes your waist, and you retract your tongue, teeth nipping at his bottom lip before you pull away.

Leon groans, hand leaving your nape to run alongside the inside of his lip where you bit him. When he pulls away there's a coating of blood on the tip of his finger, and you watch as a trickle of blood leaks from the corner of his mouth. You're not even thinking when you lean forward, still holding his face, as you lick the blood from the side of his mouth. He groans at your actions, tilting his head to meet your lips again, hand returning to your nape. This time when your tongue enters his mouth, you lap at the cuts that are bleeding, causing Leon to whimper. You moan into his mouth as the taste of him coats your tongue.

Leon walks you back, angling you sideways slightly so your back meets the wall beside the door. He pulls away from you muttering, "Fuck," a small pool of blood forms at the corner of his mouth and you're quick to lap at it. "You gotta stop doing that, sweetheart," he groans, mouth parted slightly and you use the opportunity to lick into his mouth again. Cleaning away the remaining blood. Leon rocks his hips forward and your head rolls back with a moan at the feeling. He leans forward to kiss and lick at your neck, your hands reaching forward to grab the sides of his shirt. "Mmmh... no marks," you moan out, eyes flitting shut at the sensation of his tongue. "Even if your shirt covers them, sweetheart?" Leon mumbles against your neck, placing his hands on your hips. You look down at the man now resting his face in the crook of your shoulder, almost nuzzling you. "Only if they're hidden," he tilts his head to look up at you, a grin forming on his face. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, "Does that mean I can take this off then?" You nod at him and he places a soft kiss at the junction of your shoulder, but he makes no move to remove your shirt. You move your hands in an attempt to take it off yourself but his hands quickly grab your wrist, stopping you. "I need to hear you say it." His voice is stern, despite his head still resting on your shoulder. "You can take it off," you sigh out, "Please."

Leon removes his head from your shoulder, hands releasing your wrists and pulling you shirt up. You lift your arms to help him take it off, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulls it up and off of you. His hands are warm and you sigh out at the feeling of them. As soon as your shirt hits the ground Leon's back kissing your neck, moving his lips across your shoulders. He sucks and bites at the skin of them, covering them in marks as you moan out. One of your hands reaches up to grip his shoulder, the other tangling into his hair and tugging at it slightly. He groans at your action, running his hands across your lower abdomen, a hand sliding down to brush his fingers against the edge of your shorts. You buck your hips against him, "Don't tease," you whine out. His hand stops moving, head moving back to look into your eyes, "Tell me what you want."

"Need more, please," you hands are gripping the edges of his sleeves as you beg, "Want you to fuck me, Leon." His hand slips down past the waistband of your shorts and into your underwear, he rubs his finger over your clit in slow circles, "I don't know," his voice takes on a teasing tone, "We don't want anyone hearing me ruin you." You whine at his teasing, scratching your nails over his biceps, "I'll be good, Leon, I promise."

"Fuck, sweetheart, if you're gonna say my name like that I might want you to be loud." His fingers move further down now, circling your hole to collect your wetness. "Fuck you're soaked," he presses a finger into you, moving it in shallow thrusts that gradualy become deeper as he stretches you open. "Leon," you moan out, "More." He obliges, sliding a second finger into you and slowly pumping them. You bite your lip to quiet your moans, him crooking his fingers to brush against your sweet spot causing one to slip out of your mouth. Leon presses his lips to yours as he continues moving his fingers, speeding his pace up. His thumb begins to circle your clit and he pulls away from your mouth. The sensation of his fingers inside you and his thumb rubbing your clit make your hips buck into his hand. "Look at you, fucking yourself on my fingers," he's leaving sloppy kisses across your neck as he speaks, your head rolling back against the wall. "Need you Leon," You moan out.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart," his fingers speed up and it gets hard for you to think, "What do you need?"

You babble out incoherent sentences, the only word within them discernible being his name. He stops moving his fingers and you dig your nails into his biceps leaving crescent shapes, a whine leaving your lips. He reaches his free hand up to your face, running a thumb across your bottom lip. You flick your tongue against it trying to suck it into your mouth but he pulls it away. "You need to use that pretty mouth of yours, I want to know exactly what you want. Am I clear?"

You can't help the whimper of "Yes, sir," that slips out of your mouth. Leon's enjoyment of the word becoming clear when he groans at the title. You run your hands up and over his shoulders, when you reach his neck your hands wrap around it squeezing slightly and he shudders. You'll remember that. You hands continue their path up, reaching his face and cupping his cheeks to make him look into your eyes. "Need you cock Leon," you breathe out, the whine that falls from Leon's mouth is pathetic, and his head rolls forward to rest against yours.

The breath he exhales is shaky, but his hands move confidently, his fingers sliding out of you to push your shorts and underwear down your legs. You step out of them, kicking them to the side. Leon stares at you as you stand bare before him, and your hands move to tug at his shirt in a signal to remove it. He does so removing his shorts after. Now it's your turn to stare, eyes tracing over his pecs and abs. Your hands follow the path your eyes took but they pause when you lock onto his happy trail. You can feel your mouth watering at the sight, with one hand you brush the tips of your fingers over it, the other moving to cup his bulge through his boxers. Leon groans, hand coming to wrap around your wrist whilst the other falls to your waist.

He guides you to one of the benches beside you, stopping when the backnof your legs brush the wooden egde of it. His hand on your wrist moves up, running over your abdomen and chest then cupping your face. He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss that makes your heart flutter. "Are you sure you want this?"

"I've never been more sure of something."

That's all it takes for him. He's spinning you around, pressing down on your back so you're bent over for him. Your hands coming to rest on the bench. He runs a finger through your folds, "Fuck you're so good for me." You whine at his actions and he chuckles, "You want me that bad, sweetheart?"

"Fuck, Leon, please." He removes his hand from you and there's shuffling as he removes his boxers. Leon takes a shaky breath as he rubs his tip between your legs, and you moan when it nudges you clit. He holds the base of his cock as he guides it to your entrance, notching it against your hole. You try to push back onto it but his free hand comes to grip your hip, holding you steady.

He slowly begins to push into you, the two of you moaning in unison. You can feel yourself stretching around him, your arms shaking as they hold you up. He doesn't move immediately once he's fully inside, allowing you time to adjust. He reaches a hand around to rub your clit and you clench around him, "Move, Leon," you moan.

He obliges, sliding almost completely out then snapping his hips forward, pushing back into you in a single thrust. The moan that falls from your mouth is anything but quiet, "Thought your were gonna be good for me." Leon continues thrusting as he speaks, you try harder to stay quiet but the rhythm he sets is rough and every thrust hits the spot inside you that makes you see stars. "'M good for you," your voice is slurred from the pleasure, "So good for you."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good." His hand on your hip is gripping tight enough to leave bruises, and his fingers are still rubbing circles into your clit making you clench around him. "You're so perfect for me."

"Only for you, Leon," you whine, his thrusts speeding up at your words. His hand moves from your hip, up over your back to thread through your hair. He pulls you up, your back against his chest, as he continues his punishing rhythm, "Only for me, huh?" The hand in your head moves to hold your neck without squeezing. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks, "Not for that other player?" His words are punctuated by taps on your clit that make you shake, your legs struggling to hold you up. You manage to whine out a "No," your head rolling back against his shoulder. The circles he's rubbing into you clit speed up and your hips thrust up against his hand. "Fuck," you moan, "M close, Leon."

"Need you to hold it for me, okay?" He doesn't slow his movements as he speaks and you slur out a response. Your hands grab at the hand at your clit, "Too much," but when he moves it away you cry out. He replaces his hand, your own moving up to grab at his forearm. "You want me to keep going?"

"Please, Leon," you voice is breathy, your effort focused on holding back you orgasm. The hand around your throat tightens slightly as he pulls your head off his shoulder, twisting it partially so he can look at you. "Fuck you look so good like this, sweetheart," he leans in to place a kiss to your lips, "Look so good ruined by me." He kisses you again, for longer this time, it's messy as you struggle in your fucked out state. Leon takes control, his tongue pushing into your mouth, rubbing against yours. Your mouths move together, his tongue leaving your mouth so his teeth can bite at your bottom lip.

He pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. "Need you to come with, sweetheart, okay?" His thrusts are getting sloppy as his orgasm approaches. You nod in response, hands gripping his arm tighter, digging your nails in. "Fuck, I'm close. Where can I-"

"Inside, Leon, please," Leon's groaning at your words, his own head rolling back as his thrusts stutter. "Fuck I'm gonna fill you up. Leave you driping with me." You're moaning at his words, trying to stumble through begging him to let you cum. "Cum for me, sweetheart." That's all it takes for your orgasm to hit you, your walls clenching around him. He moans out your name, hips stuttering to a stop as he cums.

He holds you against him as you catch your breath, letting you both come down from your highs. Whimpers fall from both of your lips as he slides out of you, still sensitive from your orgasms. He turns you to face him, "I'll get something to clean you up with, okay?" You're nodding, and Leon guides you to sit back on the bench before leaving to search his bag. You can feel his cum sliding out of you, sticking to your thighs as you clench them together. Leon pulls a cloth from his bag then turns towards the sinks, dampening it.