Archive of Our Own

Ashley Graham sat on the foot of Leon's bed in a fluffy white towel that felt brand new. Idly she wondered if he'd purchased it recently, resisting the urge to sniff one of the corners for the tell-tale "just bought" aroma that reminded her of childhood shopping trips with her mother before a gaggle of Secret Service on their heels was the norm. It was no easy feat to slip her current detail, especially after her abduction, but she quickly deduced that almost anyone could be bribed. 

Which is exactly why you were kidnapped in the first place. Leave it to you to take advantage of something that caused you irreparable trauma.

Wringing her hands, her eyes continuously drifted toward Leon's ensuite bathroom door, a ribbon of steam curling upward from the crack at the floor, reminding her that he was most likely washing away dried blood caked into the angry gashes she'd ripped into his forearms and biceps just a couple of hours earlier. When they'd arrived at his place, he'd ignored his own needs and immediately set to work making sure she was cared for, dressing her superficial wound with more attentiveness than any doctor she'd visited, causing her heart to swell to an aching degree. Of course, she'd combated such feelings by being a total brat, sassing him left and right, even mocking him when he only expressed genuine concern for her wellbeing. 

No wonder he's sick of your shit. You're lucky he's put up with it for this long, let alone agreed to it in the first place.

But that was the point, wasn't it? Somehow, he always came back for more, a glutton for her punishment, and it made less and less sense as the months dragged on, their meetings becoming increasingly more selfish and skewed toward Ashley's demands. She'd pondered how he benefited from the arrangement more than once and continuously came up short. Other than the obvious—kinky sex that she served to him on a silver platter—there seemed to be no incentive. He never contacted her unless it was to discuss plans she'd initiated, and he was usually content to let her float back out of his life until she called on him again. 

You've screwed everything up, just like always. You went too far, and now he'll gently shove you away like he did after Spain. Only this time, you won't be able to reel him back in. 

Her heart rate spiked at the prospect, the lump in her throat growing thicker and sticker since he'd looked her in the eye and declared he was done with her games. Realistically, she knew she'd been living on borrowed time that Leon afforded to her. Time that she held onto by her fingernails, ripping each second to shreds as it slipped through her digits like sand. No matter what she did or how she tried to pretend everything was fine, it wasn't. It never was. Unless she was with him.

The sound of rushing water abruptly came to a halt, thrusting Ashley back into the present, and the confrontation looming over her like a faceless phantom. Her chest heaved as it clouded her vision, malignant tar seeping between her ribs, coating her lungs, snuffing her out. 

Leave. Just get up and leave. He can't reject what doesn't exist.

The temptation felt insurmountable. She'd relented to it once, vehemently contesting Leon when he suggested she follow him home. Despite placating words wrapped in the silky baritone that made her weak in the knees, she knew what awaited her. Her trust in him had waned for the first time since they'd met, shattering the last semblance of sanity she'd clung to since he deposited her on the White House lawn a year and a half earlier. The scene had been pure chaos; every member of the press present to capture the moment with flash photography and live broadcasts labeling him as a true American hero. But he was more than that. More than the accolades doted on him by her father. More than the special agent who risked his life for the sake of others. He was her savior. The brightest beacon amid pelting rain and crashing waves. The anchor that kept her from drifting aimlessly at sea. And now he was going to release her. 

Leave. Leave now. It's not too late.

Only, it was. She'd refused to dress in the clothing he insisted she kept at his place in case of an emergency, depositing them on his dresser so that the bed was free of distracting debris. He always had a plan, thinking ten steps ahead to avoid risk of discovery, covering Ashley's tracks when she inevitably became sloppy. But she was desperate, willing to do anything to postpone her impending expulsion from his life.

Ashley stiffened, her spine ramrod straight as Leon opened the bathroom door and emerged with a shroud of steam clinging to him like a mountain's mist as he strode toward her with a matching towel hanging from his hips. Her eyes roved his body, never seeming to grow used to the sight of him nude or nearly so. He was literally perfect in every way she could imagine, sculpted from marble. She'd found him attractive from the second she realized he wasn't one of the hostel locals in Spain, unable to peel her gaze from the way his biceps bulged in the sleeves of his dark t-shirt or the way the material stretched over the expanse of his pecks. He was everything she dreamed of regarding the type of man she preferred, and he'd only gotten sexier the longer she'd known him.

The memory of their first meeting suddenly assaulted her—how he'd undressed with haste while she cowered on his bed. She nearly moaned at the sight of him, even while he descended upon her with his combat knife in hand, his predatory expression kicking her heart into overdrive and evoking a fresh wave of arousal straight between her thighs. He'd fucked her so good that night she'd become irrevocably addicted. He'd played into her fantasy on a level she almost hadn't expected, hurting her in all the best ways, making her come so hard she saw stars. She'd tried to leave it after that. Move on with her life and allow him to finally forget about her. He'd already cut her off months prior as gently as he could, given her persistence, by tapering off his replies to her heartfelt letters until she finally got the hint. The rejection had sucked, and she cried when she finally came to terms with it, determined to grow stronger and find someone who wanted her as much as she wanted them. Until the dreams got worse. Much, much worse. 

The mattress sank under his weight when Leon took a seat beside her. Ashley could feel his steel blue eyes boring a hole in the side of her head as she stared at her hands folded in her lap, finding them more interesting than the man practically begging for her to take the moment seriously. 

"Ashley. We need to talk."

She hitched a breath and smothered a sob that lodged in her throat, tears already pricking the back of her eyes like the quills of a cactus. Her master plan was to seduce him when he exited the bathroom. Drop her towel and throw herself at him. Anything to postpone the inevitable. But all her faux confidence evaporated like a puff of humid breath amid the chill of January, gone before she blinked. 

"Why?" she countered, not bothering to feign ignorance. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Breaking up?" His tone was genuinely perplexed, and Ashley's cheeks burned with humiliation. "I can't break up with you, Ashley. You aren't mine."

She felt like she'd been slapped briskly across the face, tears spilling from her lower lash line the second she dared to blink, and she despised herself for it. She always seemed to cry on a dime these days and knew Leon regarded it as theatrical when it was anything but. 

"Oh," she replied, the dejected note betraying her. She'd given herself to him in every way she could imagine. He'd seen her in the most degrading positions. He'd participated in the systematic dismantling of trauma that only he was privy to. How was she not his?

"Ashley, stop." He was annoyed. She seemed to frustrate him more and more often, growing weary with her demands, even if he eventually caved. He'd finally reached his breaking point, altogether done with her spectacle, and she had no one else to blame. "You need to talk to me. We can't figure this out if you—"

"Figure what out!?" she interjected, flinching away from the palm he tentatively placed on her bare shoulder. "You don't want me anymore! What else is there to say?"

"Are you serious?" 

She felt as if she were being scolded by her father, expecting "I'm only disappointed" to roll from his tongue if she dared to elaborate. Instead, she chanced a glance in his direction, discovering his brow severely pinched and his mouth slightly agape in abject confoundment.

"Ashley, are you really that—what the fuck…" he continued, trailing off as he turned away from her, scrubbing a hand down his face in conjunction with a weary sigh that twisted her guts in a knot. She wanted to go to him, drop her rebellious facade and wrap him in her arms. Apologize for everything she'd put him through. Beg for him to reconsider. "I can't believe you think that."

"What else would I think?" she asked, finally relenting. The effort to disguise her truth had become daunting, and she buckled under the weight. "You're through being my lapdog, remember?"

"I'm sorry," he began, inching toward her on the mattress until their bare knees slightly kissed. The contact was so chaste, but warmth bloomed and crept up her thigh, settling at the apex. His touch always elicited such a response, and she was powerless to stop it. "That's not how I meant it." He sighed again, this time smoothing his palm across the plains of her shoulder, settling on the nape of her neck. "Can you compromise with me?"

His tone had softened like warm taffy, the honey quality affecting her more than she liked—a thickness that drizzled across her flesh slowly, coating her in appeasement.

"What kind of compromise?"

She knew. Deep down, she knew exactly what he wanted, and apprehension coiled in her belly so tight she nearly doubled over. Could she compromise? Was she capable of the tenderness he'd been hinting at for months? She honestly wasn't sure, and that realization terrified her, making her question whether she was truly broken beyond repair. The few times she attempted to open up—lay herself bare without the victim persona as a protective shroud—she'd felt awkward or dismissed. Wondering if she'd done something wrong, or perhaps he just didn't care. But she wanted so desperately to please him.

"Ashley…" His hand ventured lower, fingertips ghosting along her spine until it reached the hem of her towel. She held a breath, heart thumping wildly within her ribs. "Is this really all you want?" He paused, obviously expecting a reply, but she couldn't release the air crowding her lungs. She couldn't breathe. "I can be so much more for you if you'd let me."

He pressed a kiss to her temple, the simple gesture so intimate that her vision suddenly swam with accumulated moisture, the dim light within his bedroom wavering as if she were looking up at the stars from the bottom of a swimming pool. Everything hurt, all at once. Her lungs burned, her skin sizzled, her bones cracked, her heart ached. The distraction she craved, the one thing Leon had been so willing to provide, was no longer an option. The agony inflicted at his hands to drown out all others... gone. 

"Leon, I—" 

"I can still be a little rough if that's what you need," he cut in, lips feathering across her skin as he spoke, humid breath fluttering the baby hairs surrounding her face. "I want to make you happy."

She could tell he was speaking on the fly, shifting his words to appease her even if his intentions had been otherwise. She hated it. He had already bent to her will so far he'd threatened to snap. Did she really mean this much to him? Or had he grown so accustomed to her pussy that he couldn't let her go entirely?

"You just want to continue fucking me then, is that it?" she asked, determined to make him say what he really meant. If he wanted to talk, they'd genuinely talk.

"Why are you being like this?" He pulled back, relinquishing all contact. Her skin chilled. "I'm trying to tell you—god damn it."

He always stopped short. Always held her dangling from the precipice of something profound. It drove her nuts.

"Tell me what? Why can't you just say what you mean, Leon?" 

"Me?" His voice cracked, agitation unmistakable. "I've done everything you've ever asked, Ashley. Everything! I don't know what else I can do to make you understand!"

"Just say it!" She stood from the bed then, fists balled at her sides, lightly thumping her thighs. She wanted to scream, blood-curdling until it stripped her throat raw. "You completely ignored me for months, Leon! I tried so hard, you know. After Spain, everything was so screwed up. Daddy wanted it to all go away. Pretend like nothing ever happened and that I was still his perfect little girl. You were the only person I had left!"

She paused. Her towel had loosened during her tirade, and she crossed her arms over her chest to keep it from slipping, suddenly feeling silly for not getting dressed. They were both practically nude, arguing in his bedroom when she'd much rather be wrapped in his arms. 

"Why did you stop writing back? You never answered me when I asked the first time. Did I do something wrong?" Her bottom lip quivered as she stood before him, avoiding his eyes, petrified of his answer but yearning for closure.

"No," he replied, reaching for her as she took a step back.

If he touched her now, she knew she'd give in. Melt into his arms and convince herself that everything was okay. It wasn't.

Leon sighed again, weariness sagging his face as he struggled for an adequate explanation. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head, locking and stuttering around the wrench she'd tossed between the cogs. 

"I thought it was for the best," he finally continued. He scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with whatever confession he was about to make. "I couldn't do anything to help you. I felt inadequate. I felt like…"

"Leon, please," she pleaded when he trailed off, silence stretching between them like an endless cavern. 

"Staying in contact was hard for me, Ashley. I just wanted to move on, and every letter put me back in Spain with you. Over and over."

And there it was. He'd never wanted to keep in touch in the first place. If it were up to him, they'd become strangers, only seeing one another during random encounters at the White House when Ashley ventured from her room while Leon was on the public grounds. One such encounter had been before she'd stolen her father's address book and found Leon's among the many scrawled within. He'd been strolling with the President among the gardens, huddled close as they discussed something secret she wasn't privy to. Her heart had leapt into her throat, adrenaline flushing her system so rapidly that she felt weak in the knees, cold sweat beading in the dip under her nose. And he'd simply glanced at her from below his furrowed brow before tossing her a two-fingered wave as if she were just a casual acquaintance that had happened to pass him on the street. A polite dismissal. 

While he had been her ultimate comfort, she was his burden. 

"I'm… so sorry. I didn't know." She hugged her arms tighter across her chest, disguising how her heart was torn to shreds, the frayed edges floating behind her ribs like useless confetti.

"Will you please come sit back down?" he asked, tilting his head to catch her eye as she stared blankly at the beige carpet. 

"Do you want me to leave?" she countered, the urge to flee stronger than ever. 

"Of course not."

He reached for her again, lifting from the mattress to close the gap between them, grasping one of her forearms. She didn't have the strength to struggle and shuffled with his insistent tug until her shins bumped his knees. When he wrapped an arm around her waist and ushered her into his lap, she found herself straddling his hips out of pure habit, slipping her arms around his torso while her head slotted into the junction of his neck and shoulder, nose and lips pressing to the column of his throat. 

"How long can you stay?" he asked, gliding a hand through her hair. The rough pads of his fingers grazed her scalp, and she shivered, pleasant tingles sparkling across every follicle.

"Until tomorrow morning."

"Good," he said, lips feathering her bare shoulder as he spoke.

Ashley inhaled deeply, holding the breath within her lungs, gathering the courage to finally shatter the barrier between them. "I don't want to lose you, Leon. I'll do anything." The hand in her hair stilled, and she pressed on. "I'll compromise. I promise."

"Baby, I can't do the role play anymore," he answered, tone uncertain.

"So this is really it. You don't want to see me again?"

"That's not what I said."

Leon gripped Ashley's shoulders and peeled her from his body, leveling her with a severe stare when she finally studied his face. His damp hair was brushed back from his forehead, blue eyes set deep within their sockets, dark circles dusting under each. He was tired. And she was a significant component of that exhaustion.

"Compromise means we meet each other halfway," he continued, brushing her limp, grown-out bangs behind one ear. "We're a team, remember?"

She longed to hurl herself back into his arms, release a torrent of sobs she'd bottled up since they entered his house. Every bone in her body vibrated as if they'd been tapped by a tuning fork, the low thrum radiating through each nerve until she felt she would spontaneously combust. 

They were a team—until she hijacked his life and made it all about her.

"I'm sorry I pushed you into all this. I should have left you alone like you wanted."

"No," he said, shaking his head. His hand was in her hair again, smoothing the golden strands away from her face while pitiful tears leaked from her swollen eyes. She was undoubtedly an absolute mess, and she felt ashamed that he witnessed her in such a state so often. "You know, I was sure you'd end up outgrowing me soon. One day, I'd realize you hadn't called in a month, and I'd have to force myself not to track you down."

"Why would you think that?" she asked, pinching her brow.

His expression was akin to dejection when the hand slipping through her hair cupped the back of her skull, holding her fast while he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Urgency surged within her chest, and she fought the desire to shove him down on the mattress and trace every dip of his abs with her tongue, traveling lower, swallowing his cock like it was her last meal. But he spoke.

"Because you have a boyfriend, Ashley. And it's not me."

She deserved that. A fist directly to the gut, puncturing her flesh, obliterating her insides. Thomas was just for show. An accessory that she clipped on her arm when the Commander and Chief insisted she be seen by the public. A shield to block wandering eyes with thinly veiled pity crinkling the edges. He was a badge she wore on the lapels of her perfectly pressed uniform that declared she was normal. Sane. Fit for the dredges of polite society.

"He means nothing to me," she mumbled against Leon's lips, snaking her arms around his waist to keep him close. The armor she wore in his presence so as not to appear too attached had succumbed to the ravages of rust, crumbled and fallen at her feet. What remained was nothing more than a defenseless girl wrapped in a towel, unable to pretend. 

"Are you sure?"

A note of hopefulness colored his tone, mixed with lingering doubt. She couldn't blame him. Ashley had never considered how she would feel in his shoes, mostly because she had convinced herself that Leon simply didn't care about her relationship status. His life was complicated enough. Constantly on the go, fighting to save the world. Why would he waste even one second ruminating over a boyfriend that Ashley only pulled from her closet for special occasions? 

"I think he's annoying," she said, and Leon scoffed, the first hint of a smile tugging at his lips, nudging the corners of his eyes. "I do! He never shuts up."

"Not the dark, brooding type, like me?"

It was her turn to giggle, lightly slapping his shoulder before tucking her head under his chin. Despite the angsty quality of the conversation, she felt content with her limbs tangled among his, their hearts thumping in near tandem. 

"He can't compare to you," she replied, her lips feathering over his clavicle as she spoke. The aroma of fresh mint coated his skin, a lingering product of his body wash that she associated exclusively with him. "No one can."

"Baby…"

His hands settled on her hips, lightly massaging through fluffy cotton, and Ashley stiffened. The husky quality of his voice scrubbed the part of her brain that instantly responded, blazing heat rushing directly toward her cunt. She fucking loved when he used that seductive tone, like slipping into a warm bath, every muscle in her body slackening in anticipation.

"It's true, you know," she continued, tucking her face into his shoulder as her cheeks burned. She'd never expressed her adoration for him in such direct language, the fear of rejection always lurking around every corner of her mind, the memory of his past avoidance shielding her from heartache. "I meant what I said, even if you hate it. You're my hero."

Leon sighed, but it felt more like an extended pause while he gathered his thoughts, his fingers still dancing along her hips. Regardless of her difficult confessions, Ashley hadn't a clue how this night would end. Despite everything, Leon was elusive to her, even now. Once she left his home, there was every possibility she'd never see him again, a myriad of circumstances that could keep them apart forever. The prospect made her sick every single time, and she struggled to live her daily life, knowing that one day she could learn of his unfortunate death at the hands of whatever bioweapon or national threat he was dispatched to eradicate that week. He was skilled and capable. He had experience and street smarts that kept him alive in the most ridiculous scenarios. But he wasn't indestructible. He wasn't immortal. 

Then there was the lingering paranoia about him simply growing bored of her. How could she cope with such a banal rejection? Or that woman from Spain fluttering back into his life on an errant breeze, snatching him from Ashley's grasp as if plucking the petals from a daisy. He loves you. He loves you not…

"I want to be more than that," he finally replied. "You don't need saving anymore, Ashley. You haven't for a while."

She knew he was complimenting her—reassuring her that she was stronger than she gave herself credit for, as he often did—but the idea of him removing the safety net as she navigated breathtaking heights on her own made her feel as if she were already plummeting toward bone shattering ruin.

"What more is there?" she asked, not allowing herself to hope for something he may not be willing to give.

"Do I really have to say it?"

"Yes," she urged, slipping her fingers through the silken hair at the nape of his neck. "Please."

"Ashley." His voice was strained, stretched thin as if he hadn't taken a proper breath. She held her own, eyes closed as she waited. "I'm in love with you."

When Ashley was a child, she would lay in bed at night, contemplating the universe, vast and empty. She was just a speck of dust, insignificant, existing on a ball of dirt mindlessly rotating around a dying star. It had all felt so surreal, and the epiphany that she was no more special than an ant crushed under one of her patent leather Mary Jane's gave her nightmares of falling into an endless void. Destined to hurl through nothingness for eternity. The pit of her stomach lurching into her throat as she dropped and dropped and dropped.

Love. It was a single word with a multitude of implications. But how many people had professed such to Ashley in her entire life and meant it? Her parents, of course. Immediate family. Perhaps a friend or two. Any other utterance had been trite or placating, her current boyfriend included. But those four letters wrapped in Leon's gentle voice became the most precious gift she'd ever received. Maybe she was special, at least to him. Maybe she didn't have to keep spiraling headlong into the gaping maw of oblivion. Maybe she wasn't alone.

"Hey. Ashley? Baby, what's—shit.  I'm sorry."

The steady crackle of her disjointed thoughts silenced instantly as Leon shifted their bodies, laying her flat on his mattress, plucking strands of hair from the soggy swamp of tears encapsulating her face. Had she been crying?

"Leon…" Her voice wavered as her bottom lip quivered pathetically. She'd never sounded more pitiful in her entire life and wanted to crawl into a hole and pass away. "I don't—"

"Shh," he soothed, even as he rose from the bed. "I'll be back."

Ashley wasn't sure how long Leon was gone. Seconds? Hours? Both were entirely too long, and she reached for him blindly when his footsteps echoed within the room, signaling his return.

"Sit up," he instructed, curling a hand around her neck. She felt as if she was floating until he pressed something cool and solid in one of her hands, a pleasant clink and swish reminding her that her tongue felt wrapped in wool, scratching against the roof of her mouth. "Drink."

He shuffled around in the semi-darkness of his bedroom while she gulped down the contents of the glass as if she were a reanimated corpse desperately trying to rehydrate. Chilly cubes tapped against her teeth when she siphoned the last drop from the bottom, reminding her of the first night she'd approached him with her deranged proposition and fainted like a silly damsel in his living room.

"You want more?" The concern dripping from Leon's lips caused Ashley's stomach to flip, but she merely shook her head and placed the glass on his nightstand, feeling like a fool. "Put this on."

A white cotton t-shirt was pressed into her palm next, and her fingers curled around it instinctively while she finally looked at him, finding him fully dressed in a pair of simple pajamas. He was breathtakingly beautiful, even now, standing awkwardly at the foot of his bed while he waited for her to cover herself in something other than a bath towel.

"But—"

Her protest was cut short by the furrow of his brow, his eyes piercing her weak exterior like a soldering iron through tallow. Something about that dark expression always bent her to his will, and she silently applauded him for utilizing it so fluidly.

"You're exhausted," he finally stated once she'd pulled the shirt over her head and shimmied the towel from underneath. He quickly plucked it from her hands and tossed it in a nearby hamper before nudging her toward the center of the bed and crawling in beside her. "You'll stay until morning."

Ashley was in no position to protest, especially when he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her toward him, situating her as effortlessly as a doll until her bottom rested within the dip of his torso and thighs, spooning her from behind.

The even tempo of Leon's breaths as they wafted across the top of her head lulled her into an almost trance-like state, and she dozed. 

Why didn't you say it back? You selfish brat. 

She awoke with a start, her body seeming to bounce on the mattress as she fell from incredible heights, eyes prying open a second before impact. Falling. Always falling.

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

Drowsiness buzzed within her skull, but Leon's palm smoothing down her back through a thin layer of cotton reminded her that she wasn't alone. How long had she slept?

You don't deserve him. You're too damaged. Let him go.

Her hand slammed the mattress, fist twisting around the sheets. The comfortable weight of Leon's body was absent this time, and for a sickening moment, she wondered if it had all been a dream. Had she gone home after all? 

A gentle exhale captured her attention, and she turned to find him practically hanging from the edge of the mattress, her own body strewn diagonally across its surface. She hadn't shared a bed with anyone since she was a child, and she cringed at the thought of Leon being forced from his own for the sake of her comfort.

She tried her best not to wake him as she tugged his arm, but he was dead weight until he jolted upright so quickly that she yelped like a kicked puppy.

"Ash—what?" He sounded utterly confused, sleep croaking his voice as he stared bewildered at her from the shadows. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, continuing her efforts to pull him closer. Luckily, he obliged. "Don't let me push you out of bed."

"It's okay, baby. You need the rest." 

Leon pressed his lips to her forehead while he grafted her to his side, the simple gesture bringing Ashley to tears as it had earlier in the evening. Regardless of everything she'd put him through and everything he'd done for her sake alone, he still catered to her as if she deserved it.

Why won't you say it back? The man of your dreams admitted he's in love with you, and you won't say it back.

Had he actually even said it? Or was it a product of her wildest fantasies shielding her from reality? He hadn't seemed the least bit put out when Ashley's response had been a tsunami of tears, every emotion known to man threatening to consume her as she attempted to process such an earth-shattering confession. Instead, he'd apologized. Comforted and tucked her into bed like a child, snuggled her as if she hadn't profoundly insulted him.

You don't deserve it. Love. Affection. Friendship. Anything. It's why you can't enjoy sex without pain. It's why you can't tell the one person on the planet that you trust how you feel about him. You're broken beyond repair. Let him go.

"No," she whispered into the darkness, scrunching herself into Leon's side as if she could crawl under his skin. The greediness she futilely attempted to hold at bay surged within her again, and she balled her fists in his t-shirt, refusing to relent.

Leon hummed in question to her manic behavior, teetering on the edge of consciousness. Of course, he was a light sleeper. He couldn't afford to be otherwise.

"I want you," she whispered again, humiliation burning the tips of her ears at such a blatant demand, even while she rose to her knees and straddled his hips. It took him all of two seconds to respond, large hands grasping her wrists while she slithered her own under the hem of his shirt. 

"What?" He sounded alarmed, and Ashley could just make out the scrunch of his features in the gloom, comprehension escaping him. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She wiggled from his loose grasp, fingertips tracing the outline of his abs as she surged on, bunching cotton around her forearms until he instinctively rose and allowed her to swoop the shirt up and over his head. Taking advantage of his upward position, Ashley wrapped her arms around his neck and captured him in a searing kiss, every drop of lust she harbored for him pouring from her lips to his, her tongue probing between his teeth with ease. 

He gave in instantly, melting into her in a way that made her feel powerful. Desired. As if she could fold him like a satin sheet and tuck him away for years, knowing he'd be waiting for when she longed to feel his silky touch against her neglected skin.

"Ashley..."

Her name flowed from his lips each time they parted for a breath, his hands exploring the curves of her body under his shirt while she swirled her hips on his swelling erection. For the first time that night, she was glad she hadn't dressed in her spare clothing, her bare cunt lewdly soaking the fabric of his pajama pants, the mental image of such an obscene mess driving her wild.

"What do you need, baby?" he asked between frenzied swipes of his tongue against her own, each word spoken so breathlessly that a bolt of unadulterated arousal shot directly toward her already soaking core. "I'm all yours. Tell me."

She wanted him to snap her in half, split her in two, rip her to shreds. She wanted pain. She wanted agony.

"Leon. Oh, god. I don't know if I—please! "

"I can't, Ashley," he cooed, reading her thoughts as if she were an open book, each piece of parchment scrawled with bold print that could be seen for miles. "Compromise, remember?"

She whined petulantly, knocking her forehead against his, the bridges of their noses mashed uncomfortably as she ground her pussy against his clothed cock. Desperate, needy, savage. 

"Why?" She sounded pathetic, a manipulative sniffle rudely interrupting their shared labored breaths. 

"I told you, I can be rough, baby eagle. I know that's what you like." His fingers dug oval groves into the buttery flesh of her ass, his blunt nails biting enough to elicit a moan while he pressed her against his rock-hard cock, shifting his hips upward to increase the friction to an aching degree. "Let me try?"

The tenderness of his tone betrayed his words. She knew he was capable of brutality. She'd seen it firsthand during their time in Spain. Had experienced what he'd been willing to give at her insistence. But she knew, deep down, he was as soft as a marshmallow. The perfect mixture of delicate and vicious, and she simply wasn't worthy of the former.

"How rough?" she gasped, burying her hands in his hair. Her cunt throbbed as he continued his delicious torture, her clit dragging against damp fabric.

"You know I can make you scream," he said in that husky tone that brought her to her knees. "It'll be good, I promise. Just don't fight me, okay?"

She whined again, high-pitched and grating, even to her own ears. Doubt sizzled up her spine, digging its unrelenting claws into the base of her brain. Was she capable of purely consensual sex? She craved every bit of merciless punishment Leon had doled to her, but her innate desire to fight back, create friction, force his hand—could she comply?

"You were so good for me earlier at the party, remember?" he continued, brushing his lips against hers. "Came all over my face. You liked that, didn't you?" Anxiety swam in his piercing blue eyes, and Ashley's heart leapt into her throat. He was trying. All she had to do was meet him halfway. 

"I loved it," she admitted. And she had. The sensation of Leon's slick, warm tongue laving her pussy like she was the tastiest thing imaginable had gotten her off in a way she hadn't realized was possible. The sight of his absurdly handsome face wedged between her thighs, the vibration of his sensual moans across her sensitive clit, the filthy praise he bestowed upon her when she doubled over in intense pleasure. She was taken aback by how much she'd enjoyed herself, even if she was convinced it was simply an appetizer before the much anticipated main course.

"Yeah, you did," he growled, fingers digging deeper into the meat of her ass. "I loved it, too. You taste so fucking good, baby. I want more." Before she could blink, Leon ripped his borrowed t-shirt from her body and tossed it into the darkness, leaving her bare to his gaze once again. No matter how often he'd seen her completely nude, she still felt scandalous, skin prickling in anticipation, a rolling valley of goosebumps erupting across her flesh. "Come here," he ordered, sinking down until his head met the pillow. "Sit on my face. Ride my fucking tongue."

The obscene moan that left her mouth while he urged her forward stained her cheeks scarlet, but she did as she was told, peeking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the dark patch covering his crotch.

"You're already so wet," he remarked, humid breath wafting across her inner thighs. At some point, he'd turned on his bedside lamp, the low wattage bathing her in creamy yellow as she hovered awkwardly above his chin. "Do I turn you on?"

"You know you do." The apples of her cheeks burned hotter at the admission, even if her attraction to him was as natural as drawing a breath. "You're so sexy; it makes me crazy." He chuckled, warm and smooth, and she bashfully covered her face with her hands. "Please, don't laugh."

"Ashley, your cunt is two inches from my mouth, and I'm drooling for it like a dog. You don't need to be embarrassed with me." He smoothed his hands up her hips, drawing her downward. "Come on, baby eagle—let me suck on that beautiful clit."

She released a shaky exhale, lowering until her labia made contact with his pillowy lips, hoping she wouldn't accidentally smother him to death. When the tip of his tongue traced along the seam, she gasped and clutched his shoulders.

"Mmm, lower," he mumbled, flexing his arms to coax her down. The brush of his lips tickled, and she swallowed the giggle bubbling up her throat.

"I don't want to snap your neck or something. I've… never done this before."

"You won't. Trust me."

His eyes locked with hers, applying more pressure to her hips until she finally sank low enough for his tongue to part her slit completely, expertly seeking her clit, rolling the swollen bud with aggressive flicks and swirls.

"Oh, my god." Her hands had found their way back into his hair, just as earlier in the evening, her hips shifting across the flat of his tongue as he massaged sharp pleasure into her, almost overwhelming in its intensity. "Leon, you're so good at this."

The intrusive thought of him bestowing such attention on another woman wiggled its way into her brain again, discoloring the moment with petty jealousy of someone dwelling in the past. She'd specifically asked him not to tell her how he'd become so skilled even while curiosity tugged at her gut, encouraging her to sabotage the moment. 

"I love making you moan," he replied, drawing her back toward his face. The lower half was completely drenched with her slick, and the sight humiliated her and turned her on equal measure. "Sing for me."

The vacuum seal he made on Ashley's clit with his lips ripped a strangled gasp from her lungs, her entire body convulsing as it attempted to break away. Anticipating such a response, Leon clasped his hands around the dip of her waist to hold her steady, eyes closed in concentration as his tongue undulated in time with the gentle sway of his head.

"Fuck!"  The word crashed through her teeth as a gritty shout, reverberating around the bedroom like a sonic boom, and for the first time, she wondered if his neighbors could hear her. "Please. God, it's…" He suckled harder, and she doubled over, one hand gripping his headboard while the other tightened within his hair. "I'm going to come. Holy shit."

Leon hummed deeply in response, pulling her down lower, his tongue and lips working over her sensitive clit until every ounce of heat in her body pooled to one aching point.

"Please don't stop!" She knew he wouldn't; Leon never did anything half-assed. But the mindless babbling kept her brain from shattering into a billion shards of silver-coated glass, reflecting her vulnerable neediness back at her in splintering high definition. "Leon!"

It ripped through her like a hot poker steeped in molten embers, painful ecstasy tearing her asunder while she jerked and writhed atop his face, his relentless torture of her overstimulated clit never ceasing. It was too much. It wasn't enough.

"Don't stop, don't stop… god, I'll come again, please! "

"Yeah, that's it. I know what you fucking like," he growled, releasing her just long enough to take a breath and hiss delicious filth to appease her desperate pleas. "You want me to batter that clit until you cry? Be a good girl and stay still."

She halted all movement just as he demanded, the dominant nature of his voice seizing her instantly, making her compliant. Leon gave her no reprieve, resuming his previous torment with renewed vigor, and she sobbed, squinting her eyelids as her thighs spasmed involuntarily around his ears. It hurt so fucking good, and she squealed uncontrollably as the heat spiked to an unbearable degree once more. 

"Yes, oh my god, don't—I'm coming, I'm coming! " She bowed backward with the force of it, her spine arching until she threw an arm back to anchor on Leon's knee, preventing her from flopping over like a fish gasping desperately for water. But the delightful sting of overstimulation quickly edged toward maddening, and the hand mounted in his hair harshly shoved him away. "Fuck, fuck, enough. Stop…” 

Condor sat on the tip of her tongue, a force of habit she prepared to utter for the first time due to the pure need for a break. But Leon released her, peppering gentle kisses across her inner thighs as she gasped as deeply as a drowning victim.

"You alright?" he asked. She could practically hear the smile in his voice, and she suppressed another sob, righting herself until she could see the top half of his face peeking from between her legs. 

She wasn't alright. For some reason, she was an absolute wreck.

What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you so screwed up?

He'd stopped. She didn't have to use the safe word. He'd just… stopped.

That's normal. Most people don't have to set up safe words because their partner likes to be threatened with knives and guns and be tied up and assaulted and defiled. It's astounding you can get off without being scared shitless. You can't do this. You can't be what he needs.

"Hey, what's going on?" Leon asked when she dismounted his face and plopped beside him. The mood had shifted so drastically that Ashley simply shook her head, refusing to acknowledge the destressing revelation that had reared its ugly head in the wake of two earth-shattering orgasms. 

"No, we need to talk about it," he continued, sitting upright. She glanced at him from below her lashes, the product of her climax coating the bottom half of his face, glistening in the twilight of his lamp. "Stay there."

He disappeared into his bathroom, seemingly only to clean himself up, but returned with the water glass she hadn't realized he'd grabbed on his way there. She took it from him without protest, sipping its contents as he situated himself back on the bed, watching her intently.

"I'm sorry," she said, allowing him to take the glass when she'd finished. "I ruined the mood." She was still nude, and a sudden chill pricked her flesh like tiny needles, causing her to shiver.

"Did you zone out again? Like back at the abandoned factory?"

The question took her by surprise, their activities from earlier in the evening seeming years in the past. "No. Not like that. I just… got overwhelmed."

"Ashley."

"I don't know what that was. Back there." She took a deep breath, recalling the instances he spoke of. The feeling of weightlessness. Euphoria. It had crept on her out of nowhere, making her swimmy and compliant. All she wanted to do was please him. "It was nice. Like I just gave up all control. I didn't have to think, and my body went limp. I liked it."

Leon pinched his brow, intimidatingly stern as he considered her explanation. "Okay. It scared the shit out of me, you know? I thought something was wrong or that I might've hurt you."

She shook her head, unsure of what possessed her but unwilling to dwell on it further. 

"And what about now?" he pressed, determined to get to the bottom of her behavior. "You're upset. I thought I gave you what you wanted."

"You did," she replied tearfully, swiping away a fat stowaway clinging to her lower lashes. "You always do everything right. You're literally perfect. I'm just broken, Leon! I don't know what else to say! You deserve so much better."

Dramatics. She knew she was being ridiculous, his shocked expression confirming as much. She grasped one of the nearby pillows, clutching it to her chest like a down-laden shield.

"Who else is better?" he challenged, though he'd softened his tone considerably, inching toward her.

"Anyone!" She wanted to drop the charade, crawl into his arms, live there forever, forget the world. But she knew that was impossible. The seal had been broken. "That woman in Spain. You care about her, I could tell."

"Don't," he warned, reeling back as if he'd been slapped. She'd struck a nerve. She had to pluck it.

"She's elegant. Strong. She saved our lives. Who is she?"

"She doesn't matter. She's no one," he said. The lie coated the back of Ashley's throat like a viscous sludge as she swallowed, nearly choking on its deviance.

"Then why are you so defensive? If she really doesn't matter, just tell me."

Leon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. She wondered what alternate fib he was concocting to placate her. Until he spoke.

"She's someone who betrayed and used me. I hadn't laid eyes on her for six years before Spain and haven't again since." He paused, searching her face for confirmation that he'd divulged enough, reluctantly pressing on when he found none. "Her name is Ada."

"You have feelings for her?" she asked, stomach churning in anticipation of his answer.

"Had. I was young and naïve. She took advantage of that."

Ashley blinked rapidly in response, holding fresh tears at bay by the skin of her teeth, knowing there was more to this story than Leon was willing to admit.

"It was a long time ago, Ashley. I've moved past it. I found you." He reached for her hand, curling his fingers around her wrist until she released her death grip on his pillow and tossed it to the side. Then he had her flat on her back, fluidly creeping up the length of her body, predatory eyes locking her in place until he hovered above her face, nose to nose. "You're the only one I want."

"Even though I forced you into this?" she asked, avoiding his intense gaze.

"I have a will of my own, you know," he quipped, kissing her briefly, chuckling low when she chased his lips like the pull of a magnet. "I'm sorry I hurt you before. I thought we'd both be better off without rehashing all that shit in Spain. I just wanted you to be happy."

"You make me happy," she said, the words rolling from her tongue effortlessly. They felt hollow and trite compared to Leon's earlier confession, and she once again berated herself for holding back. Despised herself for being a walking contradiction, unable to let Leon go one second and arguing with herself on why she should the next. 

"Is that so?" His playful nature made an appearance, lifting the mood as he dipped his head and kissed the side of her neck, lips trailing upward toward her ear, teeth scraping the lobe. "I thought I only made you come."

"Leon—" She clutched his shoulders, nails pressing crescent grooves into his flesh as his lips continued their journey back down her throat. Lower.

"Hmm? Something you want?" His chin grazed the swell of her breast as his lips smoothed across her clavicle. Even lower.

She wiggled like an impatient serpent below him, her body responding to his every touch as if he'd crafted it himself. A doll fashioned with his bare hands, each dip and curve molded perfectly to his desired specifications. 

"I didn't know you could be such a tease," she sighed when his lips traveled down her sternum, pointedly avoiding her tits, practically begging for his attention. 

"I can be a lot of things, baby eagle. You just have to give me a chance." Finally capturing a taut nipple between his teeth, he rolled the pink bud slowly, roughly tugging until Ashley squealed with delight. "You're so fucking beautiful," he praised, sinking incisors into the underside of her breast, stinging just the way she liked.

Once again, his words penetrated her barriers, crumbling them like ancient clay. Everything about him set her at ease, flayed the anxiety from her psyche like flesh from bone, laid bare to the elements so long as he was there to wrap her up. Keep her safe.

"Leon, wait." He'd crept to her opposite breast, tongue and teeth working her over as she wrapped her thighs around his waist, her body betraying her demand. "Did you mean what you said before?"

He released her nipple from his mouth, the mixture of his warm saliva and the cool air of the bedroom converging in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. His intense blue eyes caught her own, questioning before he spoke. "Which part?"

Ashley huffed in frustration, unable to recite his declaration of love on the possibility she'd only imagined it. Until she recognized the mischievous smirk pulling at the corners of his slightly reddened lips.

"You know," she murmured, heat prickling her chest, cheeks, and ears. He had every right to tease her, considering how she'd behaved all evening. Her brattiness, in particular, was reason enough. 

"Hey," Leon whispered, catching onto her somber mood. "I meant it, Ashley. I love you." 

She hitched a breath, holding it deep within her lungs to prevent the pitiful whimper threatening to rip through her chest. Leon searched her face, uncertainty pinching his features as silence stretched between them like a rubber band poised to snap.

"I haven't said that to many people," he continued, his voice taking on a boyish quality she'd never heard before. Slightly nervous. It nearly broke her heart. "Just one, actually. An old girlfriend before—"

"I love you, too!"

It flew from her mouth like a projectile, fast and incomprehensible, veering off in unpredictable directions before lodging into the flesh of innocent bystanders. She'd practically shouted it like a toddler with zero depth perception. She wanted to die.

"I mean," she continued, understanding the overwhelming need to fill the silence when Leon only blinked at her in response, "I've never said it to anyone. So, you've got me beat."

He kissed her then, soft and sweet, his full lips molding over her own until she went slack, sinking into the mattress as he draped his body atop hers completely. She felt safe. Secure. The way she always did in his presence, even in the most extreme scenarios she'd concocted. The one person she trusted above all others. Of course, she loved him. She always had.

The kiss deepened naturally, Leon languidly rolling his tongue along her own, his hands exploring her body as she silently encouraged him to grind into her still-sensitive cunt through his pajama pants. They'd never made out this way, like a couple of horny teenagers. It was thrilling and sexy, and Ashley suddenly wondered why she'd denied herself of it for so long.

You know why. Nothing has changed.

But it had. They were in love. They had a chance. Ashley could be what he needed, if she tried. 

"I want to give you my cock, baby," Leon rasped against her throat, dry-humping her so aggressively that her cunt felt hot and raw. "Can I? Can I fuck you?"

The atmosphere was so surreal, passion and adoration coating Leon's voice like a dense layer of honey. Cheek achingly sweet. His gentle request in such contrast to previous aggressive demands. 

"Yes," she moaned, nails scraping across the muscular blades of his shoulders. "I need you."

Leon rose and removed his bottoms in a frenzy, his eagerness hitting Ashley just right as she watched his cock spring free, recalling how she'd been intimidated the first time she'd laid eyes on it. Now, she yearned to have it stuffed inside her, deep and rough, splitting her open in the most agonizingly brutal way. 

"How do you want it?" he asked, pulling her from the dark fantasy she knew wouldn't be fulfilled. He'd shuffled between her thighs, slipping the head through her slit, moisture glistening like sparkling dewdrops at dawn. How such a lewd sight could strike her as romantic was perplexing, but the husky pitch of his voice licked at the pleasure center of her brain, skin tingling in anticipation.

"I don't care. Just… rough. Please."

"Flip over," he demanded, releasing his cock to manhandle her into position. "Face down on the mattress, ass up here. Yeah, just like that." He cracked a hand across her bottom, the print sizzling her sensitive skin, making her whimper. "You want more?" He smacked her again on the opposite cheek before she could respond, and she nearly sank to her stomach with the force of it.

Her first instinct was to struggle and scream, break from his hold, force his hand. But she took a deep breath and focused on the imprint of his palm on her ass, the gruffness of his voice, the bite of his nails as he gouged them into her skin. 

"Yes, more. Please. Harder," she answered, wiggling just enough to expel the anxious energy sparking at the frayed ends of her nerves like pops of electric current. 

He obliged, making sharp contact with the crease of her cheeks and thighs on either side, moving upward to spank the rounded bubble of her ass, the impact rippling her flesh in a way that humiliated and aroused her in equal measure.

"Christ, you love that, don't you? Moaning for me like a little slut."

Ashley pressed her face to the mattress and cried out with the final smack he delivered, harder than the rest. He was right—she loved every aching second of it.

"You ready to get fucked, baby eagle?" he asked, finally positioning the swollen head of his dick at her entrance. She was literally dripping, his rough treatment of her bottom making her so wet that he slipped inside without a stitch of friction, nudging her cervix as he instantly bottomed out. "I need you coming all over this cock. I want to feel it."

With his hands wrapped securely around the small of her waist, Leon set an agonizing pace. Lazy yet savage, slamming into her with such force that his headboard slapped the plaster wall. Vicious enough to quell her need for torment but sluggish enough to dangle her from the edge, a mind-altering orgasm just beyond reach. It was utter perfection, and she wept as tears of frustration and pleasure leaked from her eyes, dampening the sheets below her. 

"Baby, you take this cock so well. Look at you. My good fucking girl," he groaned when her pussy began to clench around him in preparation. Every muscle in her body coiled like an angry viper on the verge of a strike.

"Yes, I'm your good girl!" she cried, gripping the sheets, twisting until her wrists felt they would snap. "You own me. Oh god, Leon!"

"Yeah? I own this pretty little cunt?" he replied, slamming his hips in time with each syllable. "No one else. Just me?"

"Just you, just you…"

She chanted the promise with each thrust, its sincerity wrapping her tightly while Leon relentlessly fucked her, her head inching toward the headboard, dangerously close to impact. 

"Christ, baby. This cock is all yours. All fucking yours."

Every fiber of Ashley's being responded, tightening to an unbearable degree. The drag of Leon's dick tore through her cunt as it clamped him in a death grip, shoving her toward the chasm looming below until she tumbled headlong into intoxicating euphoria.

"Oh, there it is. That's it," Leon praised, delivering another round of punishing smacks to her ass while she wailed into his mattress. The blend of mind-bending pleasure and sharp pain sent her into a tailspin, prolonging her climax until dark splotches encroached on her vision like charcoal smeared across a stark white canvas. "Fuck, you're so sexy when you come. The noises you make—I've never heard anything so slutty."

Before she could catch her breath, Leon wrapped his arms around her chest and flopped them both to the side. He was still rock hard inside her and wasted no time, hiking one of her legs up and around his hip before wrapping a large hand around the front of her throat.

"How's this?" he whispered against the shell of her ear. "Feel me deep inside?" He tightened his grip on her throat, and Ashley's eyes rolled toward the back of her skull, a shaky exhale fluttering past her parted lips. "Is this rough enough for you, baby?"

"Harder," she gasped, covering Leon's hand with her own, applying as much pressure as possible through his already iron grip. 

Again, he obliged, pressing into her throat until cartilage crackled under his fingers. She could still breathe, tiny gasps as he began to move, spooning his cock into her from behind while he choked her like a needy whore. 

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, slipping in and out of her quick and deep, his hold on her neck anchoring her in place. Ashley could only croak in response, focused solely on how his dick pummeled her g-spot and the delightful fuzz encapsulating her brain due to lack of oxygen. "You're always so wet and ready for me. I love it. No one's ever made me feel this way."

She adored hearing him talk, the usual smooth baritone of his voice giving way to gravelly grunts and growls. The filth he spewed set her ablaze with each utterance, taking her back to Spain and how she prayed he'd bark those frenzied demands at her while screwing her senseless. Somehow, someway, she'd gotten her wish.

"Can you come like this, baby? All over your fucking cock while I choke you out?" She sucked in a ragged breath even as his fingers tightened further, blocking her airway completely. He knew she was on the cusp and rocked his hips harder, her leg bowing farther up his hip to deepen the impact of his head on the soft patch of flesh hidden within until she stiffened and snapped, clawing at his forearm like a wild beast caught within a trap. "Oh fuck, you're coming now. Ashley—oh Christ."

He released her throat, and she gasped, oxygen exploding into her lungs like an overfilled balloon. The strangled coughs that followed were raw and dry, rattling between raspy breaths, aftershocks twitching her body randomly as she regained her senses.

"Leon…" The horse quality of her voice made his name sound sexier than usual when it left her lips. "You too—need to make you come." She turned her head to capture him in an awkward kiss before clarifying, "Any way you want."

Leon peppered her cheek and temple with a smattering of kisses in response, the softness he kept tucked away making an appearance as he contemplated her offer.

"You sure? I don't mind going like this," he said, shifting his hips again to punctuate his point. Ashley shivered, her overstimulated cunt crying out for a reprieve. 

"We're a team, remember?" she replied, echoing his earlier sentiment. She reached up to cup his cheek, drawing him in for another kiss, nibbling his bottom lip when she felt him smile against her. 

"You on top," he instructed, shifting to his knees. The loss of him inside her when he withdrew felt severe, but Ashley watched as he settled against the mattress, fetching a pillow to tuck under his head as she shuffled into position. "This too boring?" he teased, nudging the tip of his cock through her sodden folds again as she hovered above him.

"You're never boring," she answered, smoothing a palm up his cheek before brushing his hair back from his forehead. "You're so perfect, Leon. Everything about you. I just…" She trailed off, unsure if she was laying it on too thick. Worried that the mood would be ruined if she spewed every drop of adoration she possessed for him just as she lowered and settled at the base of his shaft.

"Shh," he breathed, pulling her down until they were chest to chest. Molding his lips to hers, Leon abruptly thrust upward, and Ashley squealed into his mouth, finding purchase when her fingers wove through his hair, gripping for dear life while he fucked her with abandon. She grew limp atop him as he used her for his pleasure, her face tucked into his shoulder while he hissed romantic filth directly into her ear.

"Your tight little pussy was made for me."
"Keep making those pretty noises, baby. Yeah, that'll fucking do it."
"That's right, just go dumb on this cock. Let me take care of you."
"You ready, baby eagle? You want this come deep inside you? Tell me."

At some point, he'd sat upright, his back resting against the headboard, his large hands anchored on her ass. True to his demand, she'd gone entirely dumb as he pistoned her body across his shaft like a delicate doll, her head lulling back and side to side, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The popcorn texture oddly reminded her of the surface of the moon from the lens of a telescope—bumpy, shallow shadows cast across mysterious ridges and valleys.

"Yes," she sighed, forcing her focus on his handsome face. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead, dampening the dirty blond hair brushing his brow. His mouth hung agape, the flat of his tongue peeking between his teeth as the most gorgeous moans flowed between them like water from a fountain. "I love you, Leon. Fill me up, please."

The grimace contorting his features somehow made him even more beautiful as he became awash in bliss, his cock pulsing as he slowed the motion of her body, gliding her across the length of his shaft slow and measured. Even now, she marveled at his strength, small hands gripping his biceps as they flexed underneath her palms. 

"Oh, Christ. Yeah, that's—Ashley, fuck! "

He babbled through his climax, smothering her with passionate kisses between sexy grunts and gritty moans. She watched him in awe and utter disbelief that he actually belonged to her. Despite how difficult she'd made it for him. Despite her brattiness. Despite her helpless victim complex. Despite everything. He'd chosen her.

You're the luckiest woman alive. Don't fuck it up.

She didn't intend to.

━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━

Ashley curled herself into a crescent across Leon's body, head on his chest, arm slung across his waist, thigh resting on his hip. It was almost dawn by the time they'd both collapsed from exhaustion, the intense endless night finally catching up to them as they lay panting in one another's arms. The incessant chirp of a curious bird pecked between Ashley's eyes, and she squinted them closed, glad Leon was the type to invest in blackout curtains. 

An hour passed, perhaps two, before Leon gently shook her awake. He seemed reluctant when she peered at him between narrow slits, her eyeballs bloodshot and swollen, entirely too big for her skull.

"When do you need to be back?" he asked. Melancholy saturated his tone, but she knew his concern outweighed any selfish desire he may harbor to keep her in his bed.

"Soon," she croaked, throat as dry as a bone meal.

"Hop in the shower. I'll make breakfast."

She sat up and scrubbed at her eyes, finding him fully dressed and ready. Handsome as always.

"I didn't know you could cook," she joked, pulling the sheet around her chest when she realized she was still nude. 

"What, you think I'm some undomesticated weirdo?"

She giggled like an idiot, cheeks flushing at the thought of him slaving away in the kitchen for her. She'd never stopped to consider if Leon was undomesticated, somehow just assuming that he survived on pure force of will. Peeking behind the curtain into his real life felt intimate in a way she couldn't describe. She'd never allowed herself the luxury, always leaving right after their secret rendezvous to avoid suspicion. She was taking a gigantic risk by sticking around this long, milking her allotted time until the last drop, but it was worth it. For Leon, anything was worth it.

Her shower was scorching hot and long, taking her time as she mapped the oval bruises on her thighs and hips like constellations littering the night sky. The redness splotching her throat resembled the vague shape of a hand, and coupled with the hairline cut from Leon's combat knife, she felt weak as she studied them in his foggy bathroom mirror.

Maybe you don't have to compromise, she thought, meeting her emerald eyes in her reflection as if they belonged to someone else.  Who else will fuck you that well, within an inch of your life? He gave you everything you wanted and then some. Maybe this is all you need.

She emerged from the bathroom to the heavenly aroma of bacon and eggs, her stomach protesting loudly as she quickly dressed in her spare outfit, complete with a matching silk scarf. 

"Sit down," he commanded when she wandered into his small kitchen, eyes roving the room as he slid two eggs on a plate. The tiny, two-person table in the center screamed of him, simple but functional, and she smiled sweetly to herself as she took a seat and observed. "Wasn't sure how you like your eggs. I hope over easy is okay."

"It's perfect."

She'd eat anything he presented to her, regardless of her preferences, and she did just that, wolfing down her plate in record time while Leon casually chewed on a piece of bacon across from her.

"You still hungry?" he asked with the smirk that always made her blush. 

"No. I uh, actually need to get back," she said, her stomach flipping dangerously at the prospect of strolling out his front door.

"Hmm, I figured." He rose from his chair and offered her a hand, lifting her smoothly before wrapping her in his arms. His shirt smelled of fabric softener, and she was once again graced with another glimpse of his life she'd never contemplated. When he wasn't saving distressed college girls from rural European cults, he did his laundry. "Follow me."

He led her, hand in hand, back toward his bedroom, and for a moment, she hoped he would toss her back on the mattress and lay her to ruin. But instead, he pulled open the drawer to his nightstand and removed a small box adorned with a yellow bow.

"What's this?" she asked. Her heart skipped a beat before dropping straight to her toes.

"A birthday gift. Sorry, it's late. We kind of got distracted last night."

"Leon, you didn't have to—" she began, her fingers trembling as she ironed them across satin loops. 

"Just open it, you little brat." 

He laughed when she playfully slapped his arm, and butterflies took flight within her chest, tissue paper wings pummeling her ribs while she untied the bow and lifted the lid.

"A key?"

She scrunched her nose in confusion, studying the elaborate piece of brass with a gold chain looped through one of the holes at the top. The teeth resemble those of a music box, and she wondered what melody it would play if set to a rotating spoke.

"Yeah," Leon began, lifting the key from the box by the chain, allowing it to sway from his fingers as he explained. "To Luis's lab. You probably don't remember much, but it's what got us inside."

"Why did you keep this?" she asked, genuinely puzzled. He'd spoken more than once about his desire to forget everything that had happened in Spain, including her.

"I don't know." He paused and caught her eye, gaze so intense that she felt the need to look away, tucking her bangs behind one ear. "I guess—well, it reminds me of everything you did for me. How you saved me. We really were a good team."

A wedge of buttery sunshine filtered through a crack in the blackout curtains, catching the elaborate key as it twirled in midair, glinting off one of the engraved teeth like a twinkle of starlight at dusk. Ashley was speechless, absorbing his words through her every pore as if she required them to sustain her lifeforce, lest she crumble to dust. 

Nothing she could say would be adequate, every word taking shape in her mind falling woefully short. Nothing could express her gratitude and love for the one person in her life who treated her like a human being. Who truly believed in her. Who never let her fall.

Instead, she slipped the chain around her neck and stepped back into his arms. 

After all this time, she'd finally come home.

━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━

"Hi, you've reached Thomas. I'm a busy man. Leave a message, but don't waste my time."

BEEP!

"Hey, Thomas! It's Ash. Remember when I told you I was tired last night and was going to bed early? Yeah, I lied. It's probably best that we don't see each other again. Wouldn't want to waste any more of your precious time, so please lose my number. Anyway, have a great day! Bye!"

The End.