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Grace is so thankful that the world she has woken up to isn’t so loud. Being plastered last night had taken its toll on her body— that and having Leon S. Kennedy carry her to his bed. Drowning in one of his shirts and his boxers, Grace looks down at her glass of water mixed with orange-flavored multivitamin powder, then downs the whole thing.
Across the counter, Leon, clothed in a white shirt and loose pajama bottoms, has his back turned to her, attention on whatever he’s making on the stove. Grace swallows audibly, staring at his broad shoulders and the way his bulk makes his waist look ridiculously narrow. Gingerly, she leaves the stool, padding towards Leon and wrapping her arms around his middle.
“I’m cold,” Grace mumbles as she nuzzles into his back and her hands slide under the hem of Leon’s shirt, cold palms flat against the rigid warm planes of his stomach. She hears his breath shudder for a moment.
“Almost done, sweetheart,” she feels the rumble of his voice and a calloused hand coming up to rest over hers, firmly keeping her hands pressed to his abdomen. Grace grins as she leans up, kissing the back of his neck. She could still smell the linen on his skin mixed with some expensive leathery cologne and something uniquely him. Her lips meet the red lines she left with her nails from last night, and suddenly she feels so shy.
Memories of Leon above her, being so gentle with her, radiate from the back of her mind. Grace could feel her face heat up, remembering how he sighed her name to her ear, and her mouth was latched onto his shoulder. Her nails were busy scratching lines down his back as he gently, but firmly, bucked into her again, and again, and again.
“W-Was I too rough last night, Leon..?” she mumbles against the fabric that clothed his back, “I d-didn’t mean to scratch so hard.”
She hears him chuckle, his back rumbling against her cheek.
“I actually wish you were a little rougher with me, Grace,” he says, glancing over his shoulder to give her a sleepy wink. She looks away for a moment, a purple bag on her periphery suddenly reminding her—
“Don’t say th-that while there i-is a strap-on behind me literally,” she grumbles, her arms constricting around him as she hides her face.
“What? I mean it,” Leon laughs softly as he turns the heat off the stove, “It’s why I bought it, no? Besides, a boost of confidence looks really good on you.” Right. She remembers now. Before going to the bar, they went to the adult novelty store. She giggled when they put a few things in a basket. She was a fool for snickering, watching Leon put the strap-on kit in their basket, thinking it was all a joke.
Grace pouts for a moment, feeling a bit put on the spot. Pushing back her anxiety, she leans back some, her eyes descending down the sensual line of Leon’s back until she reaches his butt. With her hands still on his waist, she closes her eyes, imagining Leon on all fours in front of her. Her hands would be gripping him as she fucks him with the strap, and he’s moaning wantonly, bucking back against her.
She nips at her lip. Her hips were moving a little, a vague imitation of what she is imagining— very slow, shallow thrusts as if she were practicing.
“Hey now,” Leon’s airy laughter snaps her out of her reverie, his eyes flashing a lighthearted warning, “Breakfast first, Grace.”
She bites down harder on her lip.
“I-I was just p-practicing,” she manages to squeak out. Mirth in his smile, Leon turns to wrap an arm around Grace as he leans down to give her a light kiss on her lips.
“We can practice some more,” he whispers against her lips, “But first… I gotta feed ya.”
The pout on Grace’s lips quickly disappears upon Leon lifting the pan off the stove— French toast.
Breakfast was gone too soon. With plates washed and put away, Leon practically pulled Grace close. He grabs her elbows, wrapping her arms around his waist so that she is completely nestled in his arms.
“Now,” he breathed out with a smirk, “Where were we?”
Grace giggles, leaning up to peck him on the lips, and he meets her halfway, the taste of syrup lingering in their breath.
“Oh yes,” Leon’s smile darkens slightly as Grace lightly kisses the corner of his mouth, “Care to demonstrate again what you were practicing on me, back there?”
“C-Careful, Leon,” Grace breathily hums as she backs him slightly against the counter, her hand moving to delicately snatch the purple bag from under his arm, “I’m a-all carbed up from breakfast. Y-You sure you wanna be a tease? It’s my turn, after all.” She meets his dark smirk with one of her own.
Something stirs in Leon as he keeps her arms wound around him, awkwardly shuffling backward towards the bedroom. It was enough to break Grace’s cool composure, and she hid her snicker against the valley of his chest. Leon scoffs as he walks carefully, blindly making his way past the threshold, tipping Grace’s face up slightly so that he can lick into her mouth. He earns a cute little gasp.
“H-Have I ever told you,” Grace sighs against his lips, “You look r-really g-good in a turtleneck.”
Leon smirks. His turtleneck is strewn somewhere in this room, and he suddenly really wants to find it and put it on just for her. He could remember the look on Grace’s face last night when she called the DSO for backup during a mission, and he showed up in that black turtleneck—it was a cold, muggy early evening. He happened to be in the city—across town, wrapping up a debrief—when the call from his handler came in.
‘You rang?’ he greeted the awestruck Grace coolly as he leaped onto the scene, putting himself between her and a BOW, Requiem aimed and ready to fire.
“Guess I should start shopping for more turtlenecks,” Leon whispers between kisses, “Weather, permitting, of course.”
“D-Doesn’t have to be turtlenecks,” she says quickly, “Just… I-I don’t know. T-Tight things. High neck th-things.”
He wasn’t expecting her to be so forward with what clothes she liked on him.
“Tell me why you like them, sweetheart,” he mumbles, kissing along Grace’s jaw, earning a sigh and a shudder.
“I-Isn’t me l-liking them a good reason enough?” She knows he just wants her to say more stuff out loud.
“True,” Leon hums, “But don’t you think my wearing a turtleneck means I can cover those hickeys you get so worked up just seeing on me?” He hears her whine.
“Y-You’re one of those!” Grace scoffs. Leon’s arms tighten around her.
“I’d rather...” his back meets the mattress and Grace gasps as she is suddenly braced above him, “It’s your teeth on me than a zombie’s, any day.”
Grace could not hold back, grinning against Leon’s lips. “C’mon, I-I don’t bite that hard, do I?” She kisses along the light stubble on his chin.
“You haven’t left a mark on me, Grace,” Leon hums quietly, tilting his head to the side so that her mouth met the soft line of his jaw, making him sigh, “Really wish you did…” He tips his head back slightly, and Grace’s eyes meet the column of his throat— how pristine the skin looked, lined with a few scars from previous battles that she could kiss all day, but no sign of bruising.
With a little sigh through her nose, Grace mutters, “Here.” Her fingers run through the soft hairs on the back of Leon’s head, and she pulls gently, tipping his head further back. Instantly pliant under her touch, Leon keens—
“Fuck yes”
His eyes close, trying to burn the feel of her teeth biting down on the sensitive skin below his ear to memory. Grace leans back, smirking as she sees the red imprint of her teeth forming on the side of Leon’s neck. She hears him mutter his thanks to her.
“So..,” Leon hums, and their eyes meet. He glances behind her, to the purple bag they brought into the room with them— the bag that contained their newly purchased strap-on kit.
“You gonna fuck me with that thing or what?”
Grace stands with her side facing the tall mirror that hangs on Leon’s door. In just his shirt and the strap they worked together to secure on her for the first time, Grace ogles at how she looks in the mirror. The pink strap points outwards, the shape of the base exerting light pressure on her mound and clit, which felt almost too stimulating, especially when she moved her hips forward. She wonders… maybe it will feel even better when she’s moving against Leon.
She hears rustling on the bed. Grace turns around and sees him wearing just his boxers and shuffling in a turtleneck. Grace could feel her face warm. He didn’t have to do it now, but she found it adorable that Leon immediately sought out a turtleneck when she told him he looked good in them. It’s a dark blue turtleneck, made of the same lightweight material that breathed with him, however he moved, when they first ran into each other at Rhode’s Hill. The shirt hid absolutely nothing, hugging the planes of his abs and showing off his pebbled nipples.
“God, you look so good right now,” Leon groans, his eyes roaming Grace’s body. In just his shirt hanging loosely off one of her shoulders, her long legs, and the pink strap, he feels weak at the knees, and he’s not even standing. He reaches out with one hand, “C’mere. I wanna hold you.”
Grace practically dives into bed, melding her lips against Leon’s, caging him down against the pillows. Leon sinks further into the cushions with a grunt as Grace seizes his wrists and pins them down on either side of his head with no resistance from Leon.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, grinding against Grace’s strap as she shuffles and lowers her hips between his legs.
Just last night, their positions were quite the opposite. In just the warm dim light of his lamp, Leon had her pressed against the headboard and pillows as he plowed into her, firm but gentle. His mouth was on her breast as he grunted her name and she whimpered his. Now, he’s the one lying on the pillows, turning his head away as she bunches his shirt upwards with one hand and she leans down to latch her mouth on his nipple. To hear her name delicately fall from his lips gave Grace the sudden urge to hook her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and yank them down.
Leon wordlessly complies, his lips lifting, cock springing free. It twitches and leaks against his stomach as Grace did her best to kiss and mark her way down Leon’s sculpted body. Just as she leans back, wiping a bit of dribble from her lip, a glint catches her eye. She hooks an arm under one of Leon’s legs, and he lets her heft it over to the side.
There it is— a plug. It shines silver and white. Her face heats up.
“Y..Y-You prepared,” Grace says out loud, touching her face as if to confirm her cheeks are set ablaze. Leon, lax against the pillows, meets her flushed gaze with a little wink.
“Made sure I was ready for you, Grace,” he says with a smirk. The thought of Leon getting ready just for her as she slept in, even going as far as to make sure she won’t have to prep him AND wear clothing she liked on him. She’s not worth all that, is she? Grace sharply exhales, shoving anxiety aside before it even starts speaking to her, and immediately grabs the bottle of lubricant. Freshly tearing off the plastic covering the cap and nozzle, she sees, in her periphery, Leon, with a concentrated look, reach down to slowly pull out the plug. He lets out a sigh, his entrance puckers slightly as the plug clatters to the floor somewhere. His eyelids drop to a hazy look as he gives Grace the most ready look, waiting.
How she managed to get to this point, Grace has no idea. She bites her lip a little, lathering the strap with just enough lube to make every stroke fluid and easy. She lines herself up.
Slowly, she pushes in.
Grace watches in awe as Leon’s pretty hole gives, and she looks up, watching as his eyes fall closed. His ears and cheeks quickly turn a bright pink, and his jaw laxes as he lets out a startled gasp that turns into a long, drawn-out groan. He arches slightly, curling forward with his abs tense, and his chest heaves as Grace eventually pushes all the way until her hips are flush against him.
To see Leon fall apart this way, Grace bites back a curse, feeling her own face heat up at the delicious sight and the precious sounds dripping out of Leon’s lips.
“Good boy,” she utters, her hands rubbing along the insides of his thighs. The coil in Leon’s abdomen tightens at Grace’s words. The need to please Grace floods his psyche at the mere sound of her calling him a good boy again.
The pressure went right to her clit, and Grace whimpers, waiting out as Leon gets used to her inside him. She doesn’t know how long she’s held back from chasing the stimulation by moving her hips, but she finally feels the warmth of Leon’s fingertips lightly tapping at her knee.
“Please..,” Leon lets out a shaky breath, “Please move, Grace.”
Grace licks her lip, her hands finding their home upon Leon’s bulky hips as she slowly moves, the toy doing exactly what it was designed for— stimulating her while she stimulates Leon. For a moment, she laments not being able to properly feel what it’s truly like to fuck Leon’s ass— to lovingly caress his insides and actually feel his velvety heat squeezing at her.
She couldn’t help it anymore. Grace leans down, capturing Leon’s lips with a kiss, earning a gasp. She feels his long, heavy legs suddenly wrap around her, trapping her in their embrace. Leon groans and tilts his head, licking into her mouth as one of his hands hooks around Grace’s shoulders, pulling her impossibly closer to him as she does her best to keep moving her hips.
With Leon’s weight snuggly wrapped around her, Grace could keep her focus on pegging Leon. Her eyes are closed as she pulls away from his lips, mouthing at the skin under the bunched-up fabric of his turtleneck. She nips at the valley of his chest, his legs falling slightly open, his hips angling to meet her with every forward thrust. She could feel how hard he is, squeezed between their undulating hips.
“Oh, Grace,” her name falls from Leon’s lips once more, his chest rumbling against her cheek. She swears she could feel herself becoming increasingly drunk at the sound of Leon’s voice saying her name like a prayer. In a daze, she leans back, groaning at the sight of his steel-blue eyes flickering in and out of focus, his dark lashes, and how brightly his face glowed pink.
All this is her doing.
Emboldened and feeling herself growing wet, Grace suddenly pulls out with a wet pop. Leon suddenly looks down, confused— if only for a moment— until he feels Grace’s arm hooking under one of his legs.
Ah.
He immediately flips himself over, meeting Grace halfway eagerly with no resistance as he settles on his stomach, his chest on the cushions, as he looks at her over his shoulder. To see her darkened gaze, Leon shivers slightly as he feels her hand trace a languid line down his back, stopping at his ass cheek. He almost purrs as he feels that hand caressing him gently. Then sharply—
Smack!
A soft cry escapes Leon as Grace’s hand slapped him in the rear. A slight intoxicating burn followed, and he whimpers, rutting against the bed as he pushes against Grace’s hand, tenderly caressing his butt. Another slap and Leon keens again, his hand clutching at the pillow beside his head.
He leans his head back, about to ask for more, until Grace holds him open and suddenly pushes the strap back inside in one firm push.
“Oh—!”
Leon’s eyes fly open, nearly pushed against the headboard at the force of Grace’s hips. He feels her hand suddenly seize him by the waist, pulling him to her. He obliges immediately as she starts fucking him again, deep and slow.
Grace is even more distraught— wanting to so badly know what it truly feels like to be doing this to Leon— to make him caterwaul so wantonly, to be clawing at the pillow his head rested on. His hair is a pretty mess, combed to the side, and his plump lips part for every shameless moan, and his cute nose pokes through his fringes.
Damn it.
Her clit is throbbing.
Chasing the pressure that is slowly building up inside her, Grace grinds harder into Leon, the strap buried to the hilt inside him. She glances up again at his beautiful profile, capturing him in a daze. His brows are knitted, eyes squeezed delicately shut as he drools a little onto the pillow. He clutches harder on the pillow, his knuckles white. Grace whines, feeling her arousal soak right past the confines of her harness, coating the insides of her thighs.
How had they not done this sooner…
Leon bucks his hips back against her, the pressure on her clit near overwhelming just from his movements.
Grace sputters out a curse, grasping at his waist, her nails digging into his skin, only making him hiss in delight.
Pulling out once more, Leon lets out an actual whine at the empty feeling, only to have Grace handle him again. He’s flipped onto his back, his legs wide open, cock leaking freely.
“I wanna see.. you…,” Grace pants as she holds him down with a hand on his stomach, the other lining herself up against him. A sudden push inside sends the pressure right into his prostate.
“Grace— ohh!” Leon nearly seizes as he cries out, arching backward as the pleasure was too much to bear for two seconds. Grace pulls away, but firmly thrusts inside once more, applying another wave of pressure to the bundle of nerves inside him that makes him see stars. One of his hands flies to his mouth, a vague attempt at restraining his whorish noises.
Grace leans down, squeezing his cock between their bodies. Promptly, she grabs the hand that was covering his mouth, forcing it aside by the wrist.
“You okay..?” She mumbles, her own cheeks and ears bright with warmth. Even dazed, he could see the slight worry in her honest round, grey eyes. Leon glances down at her plush lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss that frown away.. and suck on her tongue.. and bite her lower lip.. and kiss all over her face.. and share her breath.
He feels her hand on his cheek, and he practically melts against her palm as he manages the smallest nod to her question.
“Mm..”
“I know...,” Grace whispers, watching as Leon attempts to suck on her thumb in a daze. He moves his hips, re-applying pressure to her clit, making her gasp sharply. She starts thrusting, once more, her hand wandering down to his lower belly. She swears she could feel herself moving inside him. She laments once more, not being able to feel what it’s like to cause him to writhe and arch underneath her, crying out her name like it’s the only thing he knows.
Grace gasps as she sees a single tear escape Leon’s eye, soaking onto the pillow as he keeps arching, each hit to his prostate bringing him way too close to the edge.
“You close, Leon?”
“Really close, sweetheart,” Leon answers immediately, his voice having turned fragile and wanton.
Grace grabs hold of his waist with both hands, lowers herself onto the mattress, and leans back. Suddenly, her thrusts are fast, but steady. Leon pants desperately, looking away. The rubbing on her own clit is nearly too much to bear as Grace chases her own release with him.
“Go ahead, Leon,” she pants, “Come for me.”
She reaches down to help him along, but before her hand could even grasp Leon in her hand, he comes.
Leon’s body twists slightly as he throws his head back, coming with a soft cry.
Grace squeals, her own orgasm making her pussy clench and throb, her hips stuttering as her forehead meets Leon’s shoulder. She bites down at the meat of his shoulder, and she hears Leon above her hiss.
The room was still for a moment, thunder outside interrupting the silence between them as they came down from a high. Grace exhales softly, unlatching her teeth from Leon’s flesh. She leans back, her hand moving to brush her hair aside from her drenched face.
Looking down, she sees Leon basking in bliss, trembling slightly, his skin glowing in the aftermath. Then, she blinks at the mess he left on his stomach. Without thinking, Grace leans down.
Leon, dazed and delirious, suddenly feels a hot, wet tongue licking along his abdomen, cleaning up his spend.
“Grace,” he groans, his shaky fingers finding the softness of her hair in the dim light. He flushes when he feels her tongue clean up the spend that pooled in his navel. Blindly, he reaches around for a little towel, which she takes from him to clean themselves up.
Toy set aside, the sheets a mess, limbs tangled, Grace is nestled in his arms, her ear resting over Leon’s heart.
“Is it sad..,” he hears her trail, her voice fragile as she traces last night’s trail of hickeys on his chest, “That.. I wish I could… feel what it’s like to be… you know.. inside you…?” She sighs. “Bet it feels really nice whenever you get to with me… I want to feel the same thing with you.”
“Not sad at all, Grace,” Leon mumbles as he leans down to kiss her sweaty brow, “I understand. It’s not fair.”
“Well, we gotta do this more often,” Grace mutters, “You moan really nice, and I felt so powerful.” She admits outright. Not to mention, he practically came untouched because of her. She reached for Leon to help him along, but Leon—being such a gentleman—beat her to it.
Leon almost raised his brows at how he wasn’t expecting that level of honesty yet. “Oh yeah? I could tell when you held me down by the wrist.”
He feels her nod against his skin, her nose nuzzling into his neck, “M-Maybe we could—”
Grace’s encrypted phone inside their bedside table vibrates. A message from the DSO.
They both sigh.
Leon offers a tired grin. “To be continued?”
Grace smiles wryly and nods. “T-To be continued…”