#soloperative

there's a pile of documents spread out on the desk — or, rather, there was a pile of documents spread out on the desk; now, they are scattered through the floor, some being crushed and ripped under the weight of rey's body as leon presses up against her, his lips mouthing against her throat, teeth-and-tongue, teeth-then-tongue, teeth-and-tongue, over and over again, apologetic but not really: demanding, more realistically. possessive. her hands, fisted on his hair, pulling at the strands as his hands roam her thighs, the thin fabric of her pants too thick for what she wants, what she needs out of him: the hot of his flesh against the hot of her flesh, physical contact, two starving bodies orbiting around each other again and again until finally crashing into one another. 

rey sighs, or moans, spreading her legs further apart, hiking her hips towards him, looking for any sort of friction, her body burning up with so much want you'd think this was the first time — the reality is that the last time was last night, but the few hours in between then and now do nothing to damp the reality of them, the obsessive compulsive possessive borderline repulsive call of his body towards hers, one that she had little qualms on answering, even in a place like this, when anyone could come in at any time, the door unlocked. 

her jacket, lost somewhere on the path from the door towards the desk. her blouse, half open, buttons ripped apart carelessly, leon's hands squeezing her breasts, his mouth sucking a hickey against her jugular vein, and rey lets him, all consideration and survival instincts thrown out of the window — she bares her neck out to him, pulls him closer, grinds her clothed crotch against the outline of his cock, tries, and tries, and — a frustrated sigh, almost defeated,    〝      leon. leon. come on.      〞   she whispers, half whimpers, tries to bring him closer, chases his mouth with her own. 

leon laughs, tensing up his body and pulling away from her. rey frowns, tries to bring him closer again. he shakes his head, and laughs again, presses his hard cock against her wet, clothed, dripping pussy, pulls her neck towards him and whispers against her ear  —  

˙⋆✮₊ ┊ ░ RE. LEON KENNEDY. . . . 〞 @soloperative : 〞   ask me, baby. ask me for more. you know how to.   〝  

it's raw, brute pleasure. a hasty, desperate need to tear each other apart. he pulls her off of him, spit-dripped and drool-shined, and mari wastes no time in offering him another place to fuck. another hole to fill. her dress inches up her thighs as she flips: face pressed against the rug, back arched to the ceiling, legs spread to invite him in.

[hurried.] sender hikes receiver's clothing just far enough to push inside of them. — @soloperative, as leon kennedy.