Since it's June 3, I decided to edit my favorite bi girl and her punk girlfriend 😼 I love LIS, it's one of my favorite games since I was 12 and I'm also a photographer, Max is a so important character for me since I was just a little girl
Hope everyone have a great and peaceful pride month, you're valid and you're incredible! 🩷💜💙
I SAW A PICTURE ON PINTREST IDK HOW TO SPELL THAT BUT I NEEEDDEEDD TO DRAW THEM LIKE THAT
BUT ANYWAAYYY IF YOU LIKE LIFE IS STRANGE 2 PLEAAASEE LETS BE FRIENDS AND TALK CAUSE IM LITERALLY EXPLODING!!!!!1!1!11 I HAVE NO ONE TO TALK TO THIS ABOUTTT
A/N: chat I have NEVER written smut before. But Leon fucking Kennedy has inspired me to my fullest. Will this be good? Who fucking knows I’m lowkey ABOUT TO HAVE THE SMUT HUMILIATION RITUAL IF YOU GUYS HATE THIS. This is porn with plot sorry not sorry that’s why it’s so long
Warnings: 18+ mdni, later era Leon, kissing, eventual smut, p in v, fem reader, unprotected sex, car sex, fingering, riding, long distance marriage, fluff, some angst (gotta be squinting) GUYS IVE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE IS THIS RIGHT.
Summary: after months away on classified missions, Leon Kennedy finally has a lapse in his schedule. The reunion was supposed to happen at the hotel. Instead… the backseat of his Porsche will have to do.
Part two HERE
The woman over the loudspeaker called for the next outgoing flight just as you gathered the last of your bags. Luckily for you, yours had landed only minutes ago, though the moment the wheels had touched the runway, it felt like your heart had started racing faster than the plane itself. By the time you scooped up your luggage and hurried through the terminal, nothing in the world could have stopped you from bolting straight for the exit.
Except airport security.
Which, unfortunately, they did.
The flight into Washington Dulles International Airport had been miserable. Turbulence had rattled the plane for nearly half the trip, leaving your stomach knotted somewhere between excitement and nausea, and the anticipation of seeing Leon again had only made the sensation worse. Months had passed since the last time you’d seen him in person, months since that very thorough goodbye where he had held you a little longer than usual before climbing into the waiting taxi that carried him off to another classified destination he couldn’t talk about.
He always checked in when he could. A quick message. A brief call when the signal allowed it. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if those calls were meant more to reassure you or himself, as if he needed the reminder that somewhere in the world there was still a place waiting for him that wasn’t full of weapons, blood, and orders barked through an earpiece. Every conversation helped, but the silence between them always crept back eventually, whispering the same quiet fear that never quite left you alone: that one day the next call wouldn’t be Leon at all.
That it would be someone else offering condolences instead.
The security guards, at least, were kind enough to wave you through once your bags had been cleared. One of them gave you a curious look as you hurried past with your rolling luggage rattling behind you, clearly wondering why someone needed that much baggage for a single trip.
You were staying a week.
A full week with Leon.
After months apart, restraint had never been part of the packing process. Your suitcase held enough clothes to fill every possible moment you imagined spending together, though in reality you knew he was technically still working. It just happened to be the first time in months that his schedule had fallen into a rare lull. No active mission. No new deployment orders. Just a standing requirement that he remain in Washington for the time being. When he’d told you they’d put him up at The Watergate Hotel, barely forty minutes from the airport, the news alone had been enough to send you searching for flights.
The hotel hadn’t even been the part that caught your attention most.
It had been the car.
The “sweet ride,” as Leon had casually called it over the phone, was exactly what you were searching for now as you pushed through the final sliding doors and stepped out into the cold night air. The wind that rushed across the concrete lot nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. It blew up beneath the hem of your dress, the fabric lifting dangerously high against your thighs as the wind caught it, forcing you to grab at it with one hand before it climbed any farther.
After hours sealed inside a metal tube packed with overheated passengers, the chill was shocking enough on its own, but the sudden exposure made your pulse jump for an entirely different reason.
You smoothed the dress back down quickly, muttering under your breath as another gust tugged at it again, silently hoping the entire airport hadn’t just gotten a free show. The outfit had seemed like a perfectly reasonable choice when you packed it, something light and easy for a warm reunion night, but standing here now in the open pickup lane, you couldn’t help wondering if maybe it had been a little too optimistic.
After a moment you wondered if you had come out the wrong exit when you didn’t catch sight of him waiting for you nearby.
Pulling your phone from your pocket, you tapped Leon’s name and reread the last message he had sent.
Meet you at gate three.
You looked up at the glowing blue sign hanging overhead.
Gate four.
“Damn it.”
Dragging your luggage behind you, you hurried down the sidewalk, weaving around other travelers and trying not to look like someone who had completely lost her composure after four months without seeing the man she loved. As you walked, you quickly typed a reply.
Came out the wrong gate. Be there in a sec.
The message was barely sent before another gust of wind swept through the pickup lane, tossing your hair across your face as you rounded the corner toward gate three. The closer you got, the more your nerves twisted in your stomach. Missing him had become its own quiet ache over the months, one that grew sharper the closer you came to finally closing the distance.
You missed everything about him. Not just the small domestic moments that most people took for granted, like falling asleep beside him or finding him already in the kitchen making breakfast in the morning. You missed the way his hands moved over you with quiet reverence, the way he treated your body like something precious he had almost lost and couldn’t quite believe he had again. Every reunion felt like a soldier returning home from war, desperate to memorize every inch of the life he might have to leave again tomorrow.
The thought alone quickened your pace.
By the time you rounded the final corner and the sign for gate three came into view, your eyes immediately locked onto the sleek black Porsche idling in the pickup circle beneath the yellow streetlights.
Yet it wasn’t the car that stopped you in your tracks.
It was the man leaning against it.
Leon stood with his arms crossed over his chest, the dark navy fabric of his shirt stretched tight across his shoulders as though the material was doing its best to keep up with the muscle beneath it. The casual posture might have fooled anyone else into thinking he’d been standing there for only a moment, but you knew him too well. He had probably been watching the terminal doors for the last ten minutes.
The moment his eyes found you, he pushed himself away from the car.
That was all it took.
Your suitcases nearly tipped over as you abandoned them in your rush, covering the distance between you before he had time to say a word. Before you thought Leon could react, you were already in his arms, your hands sliding around the back of his neck as your lips crashed into his.
But he didn’t hesitate.
He caught you easily, like he had expected the impact, his arms locking around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. The kiss deepened instantly, months of distance collapsing into a single desperate moment as his hands spread across the curve of your hips and drew you closer.
One of them lingered there for a moment longer, fingers brushing along the hem of your dress where the wind had betrayed you earlier. With a small tug he smoothed the fabric back down over your thighs, the gesture so quick and natural it felt almost instinctive before his hand settled firmly against you again.
He had to lean down slightly to meet you, the familiar warmth of him grounding the restless ache that had followed you across the entire country.
When you finally pulled back for air, Leon didn’t release you. One hand remained at your waist while the other slid higher along your back, holding you close as that slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.
His eyes roamed over you for a moment before settling on yours again, one brow lifting slightly.
“So,” he said, voice low with amusement. “Did you miss me, Mrs. Kennedy?”
You twisted the wedding ring around your finger as he said it, warmth already spreading its way lower before the words had even finished leaving his mouth.
“God, I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.”
The unpacking phase of your honeymoon had been the last time Leon had seen the house. At the time it hadn’t seemed strange. Just another goodbye before another trip, another stretch of days you assumed would pass quickly enough. You only wished someone had warned you what the first four months of marriage would actually look like when the man you married belonged just as much to the world as he did to you.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Your fingers slid up to the base of his neck, curling lightly against the warm skin there as he huffed out a quiet laugh. Leon dipped his head again, but this time he didn’t rush the moment. Instead, his mouth found the line of your jaw, slow kisses brushing across your skin while he spoke softly against you.
“You planning on tackling me every time I pick you up,” he murmured, “or am I just lucky tonight?”
When he pulled back, your hand followed him instinctively, fingertips catching against the rough edge of his jaw. Your thumb traced along the week-old stubble there, the faint scratch of it unfamiliar beneath your touch. Leon always had a clean face, but you weren't against the scruff.
“Four months,” you said quietly, eyes lingering on his face. “You are lucky that’s all I did.”
Something in that answer softened him. You saw it immediately in his eyes. They drifted slowly across your features, studying you in a way that felt almost careful before continuing down the rest of you, taking their time like they had nowhere else to be.
Your gaze lingered on him in turn for a moment longer than necessary, taking in the lines of his face like you were committing them to memory all over again. Months apart had a way of doing that, making every reunion feel like rediscovering someone you never truly stopped missing.
A crooked smile returned to his mouth.
“You look different.”
He paused, like he was weighing the words.
“Good different.”
You smiled at the attempt to flatter you. Beneath everything he had become over the years—the hardened agent, the man who became quiet after so many weeks gone—there was still a piece of that rookie cop buried somewhere deep inside him. The one who had once been nervous taking you out for your first date, unsure of everything except the way he looked at you.
But the faint shadows beneath his eyes dulled the memory.
Your hands slid down the front of his chest, fingers spreading against the fabric of his shirt before your thumb began absentmindedly brushing back and forth along the seam near the center.
“Do you want me to be honest with you?”
Leon leaned back just enough to study you again, one brow lifting slightly in that familiar way.
“You look tired," you said.
The smile he gave this time was different. Softer. Warmer. One hand came up, brushing a strand of wind-tossed hair away from your face with a gentleness that never quite left him no matter how many years passed.
“Hard not to be,” he murmured. “When you’re not here.”
You looked up at him through your brows. “That sounds suspiciously like you’re blaming me.”
The same hand he had used to brush the hair from your face slid around to the back of your neck, his fingers settling there as he gently tugged you closer. For a moment it looked like he was going to kiss you again.
Instead, he stopped just short of your lips, hovering there, his breath warm against your mouth.
“I am.”
Your mouth dropped open in mock offense as you gave his chest a playful slap, pushing him back a step. Leon barely moved before his hand caught your wrist, his grip firm but easy as he pulled you right back toward him, closing the distance you’d tried to create.
His lips found yours again without question.
This time the kiss landed harder, like the teasing had snapped whatever restraint he’d been pretending to keep. You didn’t fight it, not for a second. Why would you? This was the exact thing you had missed most about him, the quiet confidence, the playful edge that always slipped through when the two of you were alone.
His hand slid back around you, drawing you close again as if the months apart had never happened. The moment your body settled against his again, the tension seemed to leave him all at once, like he had been holding it in since the moment you stepped off the plane.
You melted against him easily, your hands sliding up his chest again as he held you there, steady and warm, like he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon. Your body reacted differently than it had during that first kiss. When his thumb slid slowly to the hollow of your neck, pressing gently against the soft skin there and tilting your head, your mouth parted, letting him take exactly what he wanted.
The soft sound that rumbled low in Leon’s chest was enough to push you dangerously close to the edge. That, and the unmistakable way his grip on you had tightened, told you everything you needed to know about the storm building beneath his calm exterior. You could feel it in the way his body pressed closer, in the heat radiating from him like something barely contained. If the sliding terminal doors hadn’t suddenly opened behind you and a pair of passengers wandered out into the pickup lane, you were almost certain Leon would have taken you right there against the hood of his car without a second thought.
When he pulled back slightly, it wasn’t because he wanted to.
His attention flicked toward the newcomers as they passed, but his hand never left you. It stayed firm against your side, holding you in place like you might disappear the moment he let go. The brief interruption seemed to bring the reality of your surroundings crashing back over both of you at once.
You were standing in the middle of the airport pickup lane.
Very much in public.
Leon exhaled slowly through his nose as the couple moved past, his eyes tracking them for another second before he looked back at you again.
His hand tightened slightly at the back of your waist before he exhaled quietly through his nose again, the sound almost like he was steadying himself.
“We should go,” he muttered.
Then he pulled back.
The shift was immediate. The warmth in his eyes didn’t disappear, but something more controlled slid into place over it as he glanced briefly toward the terminal entrance behind you, clearly remembering where the two of you were standing as cars pulled in behind him.
Leon moved past you, grabbing the handles of your abandoned suitcases before you even thought about it, rolling them toward the Porsche with an efficiency that felt very practiced.
When he reached the passenger side, he stopped and opened the door for you, one hand resting against the top of it as he looked back at you.
His gaze lingered before he flicked his head toward the passenger seat, the motion quick and deliberate. The look in his eyes alone was enough to make you smile, quietly enjoying the way his posture had gone a little rigid as he fought the tension building slowly beneath the fabric of his dark cargo pants.
As you stepped toward the open door, your smile widened just a little. Your hand slid across the front of his chest as you passed him, fingers brushing slowly over the firm line of muscle beneath his shirt.
Leon’s eyes dropped immediately to the movement, his jaw tightening slightly as he watched your hand trail away from him.
You didn’t miss it.
Still smiling, you gathered the hem of your dress and slipped into the passenger seat, settling into the soft leather while Leon remained where he stood beside the door. For a moment he didn’t move, one hand resting along the top of the frame as his gaze stayed fixed on you, following the motion of you adjusting in the seat
The door remained open for only a moment longer before Leon shut it with a solid click, the sound sealing you inside the quiet interior of the Porsche like the world outside had suddenly been cut off. Only the click of him fitting your suitcases into the trunk followed.
By the time he rounded the car and climbed into the driver’s seat, the low hum of the engine filled the interior with a steady vibration. For a second he just sat there, one hand resting on the steering wheel as he glanced toward the terminal behind you in the mirror, checking the flow of cars pulling in and out of the pickup lane.
Then his eyes drifted back to you.
Something unreadable flickered across his expression before he shifted the car into gear, guiding the Porsche smoothly away from the curb and into the line of traffic leaving the airport.
Bright streetlights filtered past the windshield as Leon guided the car through the late-night streets, the glow rolling across the dashboard in slow intervals. The hotel was still a bit of a drive, but the space inside the car already felt thick with everything the two of you had been holding back for months. The moment his hand settled on your exposed thigh, the tension tightened even further, his thumb gliding slowly back and forth over the soft skin like he had every intention of reminding you he was there.
You had missed him enough that the simple weight of his hand sent a small shiver through you. Your own hand drifted upward along his arm, fingers tracing the strong line of muscle as you followed the path of the veins that climbed his forearm before disappearing beneath the cuff of his shirt.
You admired him.
Leon wore the same watch he always had, the dark metal band hugging his wrist, the face scratched just enough to show it had seen more than its share of years and hard use. The faint glow of the dashboard lights caught along the edge of it as his hand flexed against your leg, the movement drawing your eyes farther up his arm.
From there it was impossible not to notice the rest of him.
The dark navy shirt stretched clean across his shoulders, the sleeves pushed just high enough to expose the muscle in his forearms, while the black cargo pants he wore sat low against his hips as he shifted in the driver’s seat. Everything about him looked the same and different all at once, familiar enough to make your chest ache and changed just enough to remind you how long it had been.
You were staring.
And Leon noticed.
One corner of his mouth lifted slightly as his eyes flicked briefly away from the road to you before returning forward again.
“You planning on staring at me all night,” he murmured, voice calm, “or should I be worried about the road?”
A quiet laugh slipped from you as your fingers drifted back down his arm again, tracing the same path absently like you couldn’t quite help yourself. “Sorry,” you said softly, the word carrying more warmth than apology. Your hand stayed there for another moment before you glanced toward him again, your voice gentler when you spoke next.
“I just… missed you.”
The words settled quietly between you, simple and honest in a way that made the car feel briefly calmer, the months apart shrinking down into the small space between the two seats. Leon didn’t answer immediately. The movement of his thumb against your thigh slowed slightly, the gesture softer now, like he was turning the words over in his mind.
“I’ve missed you too,” he said at last, his voice low.
A small pause followed, the kind that carried more weight than the words themselves.
“More than you know.”
His hand shifted as he spoke, fingers tightening slightly where they rested against your leg before sliding a little higher along your thigh as he kept his eyes on the road ahead. The streetlights continued to drift past the windshield while Washington’s late-night traffic rolled quietly around the Porsche, each one briefly illuminating the sharp line of his jaw as he drove, the faintest hint of that familiar crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Somewhere along the way, the tension softened just enough for conversation to take over. Leon's hand stayed where it was.
You started asking questions almost without realizing it. About where he’d been the last few months, about the kind of work that had kept him away so long, about the places he’d seen and the things he’d been doing while you’d been counting the days back home. Leon answered every one of them the way he always did, giving you just enough to satisfy your curiosity without stepping too far into the classified edges of his job. He told you about long flights, unfamiliar cities, and the kind of work that kept him moving from one place to the next without much rest in between. It wasn’t the full story; you knew that much by now, but it was the part he could share—and the part he trusted you with.
In return you filled him in on everything he’d missed.
You told him about the house, about the little things that had piled up while he was gone. The leaky faucet you’d finally managed to fix after three attempts and a YouTube video that had made it look far easier than it actually was. The neighbor who’d started mowing his lawn at six in the morning every Saturday. The way the garden had somehow survived the summer heat despite your questionable watering schedule.
He listened to every word.
Now and then he asked questions of his own, small ones that showed he was paying attention even while keeping the car steady through traffic. You told him about your job, about the long days and the quiet evenings that followed, and about the empty side of the bed that never quite stopped feeling strange no matter how many nights passed.
25 minutes slipped by like that, conversation flowing easily in the space between you, the miles of distance that had separated you over the past months slowly dissolving with every exchanged word.
“I’ll be home soon.” His hand gave your thigh a firm squeeze before he passed a glance your way. “I promise.”
You knew he would. He always came home.
But some days the doubt still crept in anyway, quiet and persistent, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out.
“You can’t promise that.”
Your hand curled around his arm as you said it, your gaze drifting toward the window as the Porsche rolled onto a bridge, the dark water below reflecting scattered lights from the city.
The change in Leon was immediate.
You felt it before you even looked at him.
When you finally glanced back, his grip on the steering wheel had tightened, the muscles in his forearm shifting beneath your fingers as his eyes remained fixed straight ahead on the road.
The hotel wasn’t far now.
And suddenly the car felt too quiet. Your tongue sat heavy in your mouth, like a stone you couldn’t swallow back down, the regret settling in almost as quickly as the words had escaped you.
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“Don’t be.”
Leon exhaled slowly, the breath pushing a few stray silver strands of hair across his forehead before he brushed them back with a quick movement of his hand.
“You’re right.”
For a moment neither of you spoke. The low hum of the engine filled the space between you as the car carried the two of you across the bridge, the city lights stretching out ahead.
Then his hand returned to your leg.
This time when his fingers settled there, they slid a little higher again than before.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t try.”
For a moment you just watched him, the way the passing streetlights caught the lines of his face, the quiet determination that always seemed to sit just beneath the surface. It struck you then that every time he left, every mission that pulled him halfway across the world, it probably cost him more than he ever said out loud.
Being away hurt him too.
Leon wasn’t the kind of man who walked away from the things he believed in. You had known that long before the ring ever found your finger. The work, the danger, the endless string of places he could never fully talk about… it was part of him. Asking him to give it up would have been like asking him to stop breathing.
He couldn’t quit.
He wouldn’t.
And yet the thought that lingered in the back of your mind now was the same one that had been there the day he asked you to marry him.
If he knew the risks… if he knew how much of his life would always belong to that work…
Then why had he chosen this?
Why had he chosen you?
Your gaze drifted down to where his hand still rested against your thigh, the warmth of it steady and grounding as his thumb traced slow, absent circles against your skin. The motion wasn’t hurried anymore, but it wasn’t distant either. If anything, it felt more deliberate now, like something he was holding onto just as tightly as you were.
You reached for him again without thinking, your fingers sliding back along his arm, tracing the familiar lines of muscle beneath his sleeve until your hand settled there.
Stubborn.
That was the word for him.
The same stubbornness that kept him running toward danger again and again was the one that had brought him back to you every time.
And suddenly the tension in the car felt different.
Not sharp like it had been earlier.
Heavier.
Warmer.
Your thumb brushed slowly along his arm as you leaned back into the seat, your voice quieter when you spoke again.
“Good,” you murmured.
Leon glanced toward you briefly.
“Because I’m not going anywhere.”
The words lingered before you spoke again, softer this time.
“I love you.”
The corner of his mouth twitched at that, but his hand tightened slightly where it rested against your leg, sliding this time inward a tad as the car continued through the quiet streets.
“Love you too.”
It was simple, the way he always said it, but the quiet certainty in his voice made your chest tighten all the same. You could feel the shift in him too. The air inside the car felt charged now, like something had settled between you both that made the space feel smaller than before. His thumb continued its slow, torturous movements against your thigh, and the lingering heat from the airport kiss slipped back through your chest.
It was the shift your body needed to finally react.
The warmth spread lower, slowly at first, before building into something far harder to ignore. You found yourself wanting his hands higher, wanting them in places the cramped space of the car simply wouldn’t allow, and suddenly the hotel felt much farther away than it had five minutes ago.
Your fingers curled around his wrist, tighter this time, and you shifted slightly in your seat, your hips moving forward as if you were only trying to get comfortable.
Leon noticed.
His jaw flexed faintly as he glanced toward youl. The motion was subtle, but the quiet breath he let out afterward said enough.
“Keep doing that,” he muttered under his breath, “and we’re not making it to the hotel.”
You couldn’t help the small smile that spread across your face.
“Was that the plan?” you asked softly.
Leon didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he guided the Porsche through the next intersection, the low growl of the engine filling the quiet cabin as the car turned down a darker stretch of road lined with trees. The city lights thinned here, traffic nearly gone as the road curved alongside the river.
Only then did he glance toward you again, his eyes darker now.
“Starting to look that way.”
You noticed the exact moment he made the decision, like your small movements had been all he needed to finally give you exactly what you wanted.
It wasn’t dramatic. Just a slight shift of the wheel.
The Porsche rolled smoothly along the dark road, the river occasionally flashing between the trees as the headlights carved through the quiet stretch of pavement ahead. A second later the car slowed, Leon guiding it off the road onto a narrow pull-off overlooking the water, gravel crunching softly beneath the tires as he eased the Porsche into the empty space.
The engine idled for a moment, his jaw still set as one hand steadied the wheel. Then his other hand slid from your thigh so he could shift the car into park, right before they found their way back to your thigh.
Silence settled around the two of you.
For a brief moment it felt strangely familiar, like the very beginning again. Shared glances. The quiet tension of a nervous cop who hadn’t quite figured out how to admit he wanted you.
Except now the roles had shifted.
And suddenly you felt very small sitting beside the broad-shouldered government agent next to you, the same man who had crossed half the world more than once and still somehow looked at you like you were the thing he wanted most.
Your voice came out softer than you expected.
“Leon…”
He said nothing as he pulled your thighs apart, lifting your dress another inch.
Even though the thought of letting him do what he wanted out here sent sparks through your stomach, you still grew a little shy, your hand moving over his as he leaned across the center console toward you. When he did, he switched hands, replacing the warmth between your legs with his left one.
“Leon—“
He leaned over to kiss you slowly, taking his time breathing you in, his hand inching its way toward your center and ghosting over the fabric of your panties.
“Yes?”
You shifted your hips again against him, nudging them forward slightly as you looked up at him through hooded eyes.
He could already tell you were wet just by the way his fingers grazed over you.
"I…" You didn't know what to say.
This is exactly what you wanted, and he knew it. He knew you too well. Before any more thought could form, he kissed you again, looping his fingers around the fabric to slip underneath, feeling you entirely.
You shifted again, the sensation pulling a soft moan from your lips into his mouth.
“You wanna go?” he murmured between kisses. “Want me to stop?”
He dragged his finger in slow, slick motions up and down your sex without pushing further, causing a shaky breath to form.
You shook your head, brushing your nose against his as you moved your hips against his hand.
“Then take these off.” He stopped what he was doing, tugging at the fabric before pulling away and reaching for the car door.
You did what he asked, shimmying them down your legs with little effort as he began to get out of the car. For a second the sudden absence of him left you blinking in confusion, the cool night air rushing in where his warmth had been only moments before. That wasn’t what you’d meant at all, and the thought that he might actually walk away made your stomach drop.
You watched him round the front of the car, though, moving with purpose rather than distance.
And then it clicked.
He wasn't leaving.
He was coming for you.
Before you could even ask what he was doing, Leon yanked your door open. The night air was more prevalent as he offered you a hand, his expression unreadable but determined.
“C’mon,” he said quietly.
You slid your hand into his and stepped out, the gravel crunching softly beneath your feet. He didn’t let go right away. Instead, he glanced down, then suddenly bent over in front of you.
The movement caught you off guard, a sudden flush of heat rising up your neck as your mind jumped to an entirely different conclusion.
"What are you—"
But he only huffed a quiet laugh, reaching for the strap of your shoe.
“Relax,” he muttered, slipping it off your foot before moving to the other one. “You’re not climbing back there in these.”
For a second his breath hovered there, his hand sliding lightly up the length of your thigh before he pressed a quick kiss just above your knee.
Then he straightened, your shoes dangling from his fingers, the same dangerous look settling in his eyes again.
Without another word, he opened the back door.
It took less than a minute for him to convince you into the backseat, where he pulled you on top of him, pushing your dress fully up over your hips. You claimed his mouth instantly, one hand braced against his chest while the other cupped his face. His head leaned back against the seat, and his hands enveloped your backside, pulling you down against him to match the needy movement of his hips.
You stole the air from each other, your mouths opening for one another as he claimed you like a starving man finally given what he wanted. When he left your lips to work at your neck, a pleading whimper slipped from you, overwhelmed with the feeling of his mouth against your skin.
One of his hands left your hip to pull the straps of your dress down, exposing your chest to him. Without a second thought, he moved lower until he found your breast, biting and sucking at your skin. Your hand slid into his hair, and the moment his tongue brushed your sensitive peak, a wave of heat swept through your body, causing you to lean back for him as a soft moan sounded from you.
Hearing you seemed to spur him on as his hand hiked up and under your dress completely.
“Off.” He murmured against your chest, guiding it up your body as he spoke. He pulled away only long enough for you to raise your arms as he threw it to the side, leaving you bare on top of him. He found your lips again as he pushed his hips up, meeting your desperate movements to cause friction. His hands trailed over every inch of you before finally finding your hair, tugging your head back to trail his tongue across the length of your neck.
You gasped at the movement, a shiver trailing across your skin as he slowed his pace, trailing his breath across your neck as he spoke.
“So needy.”
A pathetic whine left your lips from the grueling tension building under you, feeling his length through his pants as you ground against him.
"Leon—" you pleaded.
His hand left your hair as he slipped a finger into your mouth, guiding your head down until your eyes met his.
"Yeah, baby?”
You swirled your tongue around his finger before he slid a second in, eliciting a small sound from you as he let you lap at them, pulling your face closer.
“Hmm?” He hummed, just inches from your mouth. “Use your words, baby.”
He pulled his fingers out just enough to let you speak, his breath hot against your lips. "Please," you said.
He smiled, leaning in to take your lower lip between his teeth as he reached between you, slowly gliding his now-wet fingers between your thighs. The second his touch found your entrance, a whimper slipped from your lips as you crashed your mouth against his again, gripping the back of the seat while lifting your hips to give him better leverage.
He was so slow you thought the ache building inside you might actually kill you. But it wasn’t enough; his touches were feather-light, only scratching the surface of what you wanted.
The more he teased you, the more you shifted against him. Until he used his free hand to steady your hip. In the same motion he slipped his fingers deeper, curling them just enough to ease the burning tension for a moment.
“Leon.” You breathed into his ear, frustration threading through your voice as you rolled your hips against him.
“Tell me what you need,” he murmured into your ear, his fingers working achingly slow as he began to move his thumb right over your clit.
You could come undone like this if you wanted, but you hadn’t seen him in four months.
“I need you," you whispered, pressing your face against him.
“You have me.” He breathed.
You bit at his earlobe, feeling every movement of his fingers as they worked you higher. You were a mess on top of him, exposed and desperate. You couldn’t take it anymore.
“I need you to fuck me.”
As soon as you said it, his free hand came up and gripped the space where your jaw and neck meet, pulling you just enough to meet his eyes. He was ravenous; it was like all this teasing was killing him just as much.
He pulled his fingers free and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean before pulling you back in and claiming your lips again. He made sure you could taste it before pulling away.
"Yes, ma’am.”
His hand left your neck, and he lifted your hips enough to work at his pants, freeing himself from the tightness of the fabric.
You could feel your senses growing feral as he adjusted himself below you, gripping your hip with his free hand as he lined himself up.
You dug your nails into his shoulder in anticipation as he claimed your mouth again, pushing you down onto him in one fluid motion. When you moaned into his kiss, you could feel his nails digging into your skin, holding you steady as you took him fully.
It was everything and more, filling every empty need you’d carried for the last four months as you felt him stretch you completely. You didn’t move at first, only shifting your hips slightly as you adjusted to the feeling.
“Fuck.” Leon let out a strangled moan into your mouth as you moved your hips forward, then back, little gasps melding with your kisses.
His patience ran thin as he helped you lift your hips right before pushing them back down, setting you into a toe-curling rhythm.
You pulled back from his mouth, letting your head loll back as he set a devastatingly smooth pace, helping you work him. He took your movements to his advantage, his mouth finding your chest again as he sucked at your skin, leaving marks peppered across your breasts.
For a moment it was pure perfection. Pure bliss. Everything you’d been waiting for, and now you were coming completely undone on top of him.
Your breaths and moans melded together as he claimed every inch of you, marking your skin and fogging the windows of the car. The space was cramped, but he made the most of it, trailing one hand behind your back to support you as you leaned. Then his second hand found its way between your thighs, circling in just the right places to send you into a blissful coma.
At this angle he hit you in just the right spot, each push filling you as much as you could take. You couldn’t tell up from down as he pulled moan after moan from your lips, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
He could tell, either by the way your eyes couldn’t focus or the way you began to tighten around him. He reacted instantly, pulling you closer as he kept his pace steady, the pressure of his grip mixing with the steady rhythm of his hips.
“Come on, baby.”
You looked down at him, watching his eyes fill with lust as they found your lips, your mouth open in pure ecstasy.
“I’ve got you.”
He did. His grip on you was solid, hand splayed across your back as he supported you each time you rocked with him.
“Fuck, Leon—“
“That’s it.”
You were so close. So close to coming undone. So close to letting it all go. You leaned forward, pressing your head against his.
“Don’t stop—don't—"
He kissed your jaw, working his hand tirelessly as your climax was near its peak. He could feel how close you were, feel you clench around him right as it tipped. His hips were relentless as he took over, driving into you as you enjoyed every second.
“That’s it, baby, let go.”
A bright wave of ecstasy plowed through you, and you dug your nails into his back, clinging onto him now for dear life as you rode him through it, working his fingers in lazy circles while he dug his face into your neck. The moan you let out was mixed with curses, washing over you like cold water as you shuddered through the high.
He must have been right behind you because his pace began to falter, his own moans and curses getting lost in your skin as he buried himself closer to you, staggered with each thrust.
His hand left your center, coming up behind your back, and he pulled you flush to him, his movements finally ceasing.
All you could do was breathe, collapsed against his chest as you buried your face into his neck.
He stayed still, not pulling you off, your chests rising and falling in unison. His hands began moving slowly up and down your back before moving down to your thighs. He rubbed small circles in the places he held the hardest as he leaned his head back against the seat.
"Fuck," he breathed.
You let out a breathy laugh as you lifted your head, finally getting a good look at the disheveled mess he’d become. You reached up, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead, before kissing him there gently.
When you pulled back, his mouth was still parted, panting, his eyes hooded as he searched your face.
You pulled back another inch. “What?”
He smiled, trailing his hands slowly back up your sides in soothing motions. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
A heat flushed across your face as if you weren’t already married to this man, and you smiled giddily as your hand trailed across his stubble.
He leaned forward to kiss your jaw again. “Especially like this.”
He kissed your skin once more before pulling you back down against him, settling your head on his shoulder.
You lay like this for some time, enjoying each other's warmth, basking in the backseat of his car until you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, his hand gently settling into your hair.
“I’m not goin anywhere.”
You weren’t sure what he meant until you thought back to your earlier conversation.
You can’t promise that.
You lifted your head, looking at him as he stared out the windshield, absently stroking your hair.
“I know,” you said, placing your hand on his chest.
He looked at you then with a soft smile before kissing your forehead.
“You got anything comfy in those suitcases?”
You pulled back. "Yeah, why?"
Then, you were rudely reminded that you were still sitting on him—still connected to him. When he lifted your hips from his lap, you gasped as reality washed back over you, and as he pulled out, the aftermath of your escapade dripped down your legs.
“I’m not putting you back in that dress. Which suitcase? I’ll grab it.”
He was so casual about it, helping you shift into the seat beside him while he tugged his pants back up and buttoned them before leaning over to give you a quick kiss.
You just stared at him, star-struck. “Uh, well—”
“Don’t think too hard. Whatever you pick is just gonna end up on my floor tonight anyway.”
You raised your eyebrows at him, your lips parting slightly.
He seemed a little surprised too, though there was humor in it. “You think after four months I haven’t been dying for this exact fucking moment?”
You blinked at him, a slow smile creeping across your face.
“You know,” you said, leaning back against the seat, “most husbands wait at least five minutes before admitting that.”
Leon's hand found your thigh again. “Do most husbands also fuck their wives in the back of a Porsche on the side of a greenway?”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know,” you said. “But if they don’t, they're doing marriage wrong.”
Leon laughed quietly under his breath before leaning over to press one more kiss to your temple.
“That’s my girl.” He said, reaching for the door handle. “Now c’mon before I get distracted again, which suitcase?”
You glanced at him as he stepped out of the car, shaking your head with a smile.
Four months apart, and somehow he still had the power to make your heart race like it was the first. Night all over again.
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