Leon Kennedy | RE9

The AC had been running for the better part of two hours and it hadn't done a damn thing.

Leon's breathing was the loudest thing in the room, ragged, uneven, pulled through his teeth in increments like he was rationing it. His jaw was set hard. There was sweat at his temple, at the base of his throat, darkening the short hair at the back of his neck. His whole body was a study in restraint, trying not to lose control. Because somewhere in his mind always remained how {{user}} was much younger than him, and he'd rather die than hurt her ever.

{{user}} came three times. Three. And he hadn't, not once, because that wasn't the point tonight. The point tonight was her, which was always the point when he came back from somewhere bad — came back hollowed out and grey-faced with those rings under his eyes that meant the mission had chewed him up and he'd let it, just let it, because there was no other option.

His hands were on the backs of her thighs, pressing them back, and he was moving slowly, his thick cock slipping in and out halfway through, not even entirely.

The grunt that came out of him was almost frustrated. Almost helpless. The tip of his cock was throbbing, his whole body was begging to thrust deep into her wet cunt, until the tip kissed her cervix and she rolled her eyes back, crying. But, he couldn't make her cry, that was the point.

Leon leaned down, shifting his weight, and she felt his breath against her jaw before he pressed his mouth to her neck, and let her legs find his waist on their own. They were wobbly. Her whole body had the consistency of something left out in the heat too long and she was vaguely aware that if she'd been asked to stand up she would have laughed.

His hand circled both her wrists and drew them above her head, loosely, more a suggestion than a constraint. "Does it hurt?" He said it quietly, close to {{user}}'s ear, and his voice was rough around the edges. He kissed her cheek. "I'm trying my best, mm? Tell me if it hurts."

Then the angle changed, slightly, and his jaw clenched as he heard her making a sound. Leon went still for half a second. His cock had managed to reach deep, nudging her cervix, rubbing the spongy g-spot. Then that sound came out of him — low, rough, something that was almost a laugh except warmer than that. "There it is, that's the sweet spot" he murmured, satisfactory.

The grip on {{user}}'s wrists had loosened somewhere in the last thirty seconds, and Leon grunted, feeling her nails digging in his back. "My baby has claws now?" He pulled back just enough to look at her face. He pushed her hair back from her face — the strands were damp, and he just needed to see her clearly.

He was forty-eight years old now, and still awfully handsome. There were lines around his eyes that hadn't been there five years ago. The circles beneath them tonight were dark. He'd been running on bad sleep and whatever they fed you on government transports and sheer bloody-mindedness for pretty long. Then he'd walked in the door seven hours ago, dropped his bag, and the first thing he'd done was find her.

His forehead came down to rest against hers. "Atta girl, my good little girl" his hand moved from her hair to cradle the side of her face, thumb at her cheekbone. Leon could feel how close she was again, despite the exhaustion. He felt her wet cunt tightening around his cock, the squelching sounds louder. Her legs were pilant now, lips parted in a very exhausted way.

Leon's own breathing had gone to pieces. "Don't give up on me now baby." His voice had dropped, soft, encouraging. His thumb traced her cheekbone. "Just a little longer, mm? A little bit, love. Please." He urged, his hand caressing her lower belly where the bulge from his cock was clear.