HEAVEN IS BETWEEN HER LEGS.
leon kennedy x reader
word count: 1.5k summary: leon eating that pussy, craaazzyy styleuhh masterlist | taglist | wips
18+ MDNI. porn with no plot basically, oral sex, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk leon (meow).
notes: boo. i probably could’ve thought of a better title than this, but considering this kinda just came to me on a whim, oh well. also, don’t mind if this sucks, i kinda wasted the last bit of motivation i had left just to finish this, so don’t expect anything from me in the next few weeks…
it wasn't uncommon for leon's days to revolve around getting his dick wet. and this particular mid-afternoon found him parked between your thighs, your legs draped lazily over his broad shoulders.
leon's busy tongue works its magic between your legs, his skilled mouth lavishing your most sacred spots with worship as he devours you whole. lost in a haze of pleasure, you couldn't begin to fathom how many minutes, hours, or even days he's had you spread out like this for him, your world narrowing down to the feel of his scruffy chin grazing your inner thighs and his insatiably curious lips seeking out every inch of your sweetest flesh.
perhaps it's still morning, or could the sun be high overhead casting a warm glow through the windows? time's become irrelevant when he's at work dismantling your resolve, reducing you to nothing more than a trembling mess of sensation begging for release.
you can't even begin to tally up the number of fingers he's got buried inside you, stretching your walls and coaxing out every drop of pleasure. all you know for certain is that it feels impossibly good.
those same large hands knead the globes of your ass, pulling you further open for his eager tongue. his other hand sneaks between your thighs, stroking and teasing over the hypersensitive skin until your back arches sharply off the couch in a silent plea for more.
you sighed and tangled your hands in his dirty blonde hair, urging his face deeper into your heat as he worked his way into you. leon made a mental note, his tongue flicking out to taste you anew: the spot where your thigh crests hit his chin when you're missionary, now, the dip where your knee bends, and the subtle groove that promises your clitoris...these geography lessons kept him occupied as you writhed against his lips and tongue with an impassioned 'ah'.
“fuuuck,” he growls against your soaked cunt, the vibrations almost enough to send you careening over the edge right then and there.
leaning into you further, he dragged his nose up your slit, savoring the musky taste before giving your clit a playful nip. he’s rewarded with a sweet, high-pitched sound that seemed to vibrate straight from your core into his palms pressed firmly against your asscheeks.
he loved the tiny quiver that ran through you each time his tongue or teeth brushed against your sensitive spot, the flush of pink that spread across your pale thighs.
leon hums, the low rumble vibrating against your wet flesh an additional torment you can ill-afford. not that you're trying much, really. your fingers continue to tug at the blonde strands of his hair, urging him deeper.
one fingertip swipes gently against your entrance before delving inside, the delicate invasion sending a shiver up your spine. he curves around your g-spot, relishing the subtle twitch of your inner walls in response. as he withdraws his digit with a lewd slosh, he brought it to his lips, sucking off your essence like a thirsty man rediscovering a favorite colada.
his gaze flicks up to meet yours, seeing how you're struggling to maintain eye contact in result of the overwhelming pleasure crashing through you.
"you like that?" he rasped, voice low and rough from the effort of speaking over the wet, slurping sounds of his ministrations.
the way you tighten around his tongue and the way your back arches told him all he needed to know. and maybe he was a sadist, a twisted little fuck, lapping at your wet slit over and over, denying you that final peak. but seeing the desperate way you clung to his hair, hearing the broken sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips, he couldn't bring himself to hold back, not now that he'd caught a glimpse of the fireworks in your pretty, glassy eyes.
he knows the telltale signs, the little tells that indicate you're teetering on the precipice. and hell if it doesn't make him harder.
but he's far from done with you yet. he gentles his touch, slowing his movements to a teasing pace that keeps you teetering on the brink of another release without quite reaching it. a soothing hum escapes his throat as he drags his thumb up to circle your sensitive clit, the touch so light it might barely register, but the effect is electric.
you're panting hard, gasping out his name like a prayer, a plea, a hymn to the divine sensation he's conjuring within you.
"come on baby, gimme another one," he coaxes, the words muffled by the flesh of your pussy. the words are slurred, almost indistinguishable from the rhythmic groans he's making as he eats you out with single-minded determination.
his own hand slides from your hip to gently part your lips, opening you further in welcome as he delves back in. the muscles in his broad shoulders flex beneath your thighs, the effort of maintaining position between your spread legs clear. but fuck, he's a stubborn one. unwilling to yield, even as the drool that escapes his lower lip drips onto the couch.
fuck, he's a damn masochist, too, because the desperation in your eyes, the way your voice cracks as you beg for release is like a sweet, sweet aphrodisiac to him. his cock throbs, weeping in its confines, eager to join the fray, but no, he holds back.
he's addicted to the view—your sweat-streaked face, flushed and slack, the glassy eyes locked on his, the plush thighs trembling with the effort of staying put.
he doubles down, tongue flattening against your weeping slit as he presses in deep. the squelching noises are so loud in the stillness, his ears echoing with the rhythmic wet blurp-blurp-blurp he's creating. he swirls that long, dexterous muscle around your throbbing clit before plunging back to your tender insides, over and over and over again.
to him, you taste divine, an intoxication of sweat, need and the tangy sharpness of arousal he drinks from greedily. his fingers slide up to press firm and unyielding against the shell of your ear, blocking out the world as he tongue-rapes you with an unrestrained intensity you barely understand but crave so deeply. when he senses your body start to wind down, the thrumming ache receding, he abruptly changes tack.
his fingers play around with your clit, tracing abstract patterns meant to torment and tease. your hips buck reflexively, seeking more even as your body screams for mercy. and fuck, now that he's got that addictive rhythm down, you know you're a goner, fucked six ways from sunday and you'll thank him for it later.
“lee- leon, please—“ your pleas slip out in ragged gasps against the backdrop of his relentless ministrations.
he could play coy, keep driving you to the brink before letting you crest, drawing the sweet, mindless pleasure out even longer. but he so badly wants to see (and feel) your complete surrender to him, his greedy tongue devouring you, his hands bringing you closer and closer.
his balls ache, his cock straining against the zipper, begging for freedom to bury itself deep inside you, to feel your tight, slick heat engulfing him, milking him for all he's worth. but no, not yet, not until you're wrung dry, trembling and sobbing on the edge of oblivion. that's the real prize here, watching you break apart at his mercy, your sweet surrender a reward he craves above all else.
leon's movements become frenzied, his pace a blur of tongue and lips and teeth as he chases that elusive peak, determined to push you over the edge, to hear you scream his name as you come undone on his face.
he's a goddamn addict, and this is his fix, and fuck, it's the best drug in the world.
“come on baby, do it for me…”
he utters against your soaked slit before he curls his tongue into that perfect 'come-hither' formation, seeking out the swollen little bundle of nerves at the apex of your sex. one, two, three languid swirls around it, stoking the embers of your arousal until it's a raging inferno capable of incinerating any thought of restraint.
your hips jerk wildly, trying in vain to grind against his relentless tongue or mouth or whatever he's using to torment your oversensitive clit and swollen lips into one glorious, never-ending orgasm.
the pleasure is so overwhelming you barely register the choked-off cry that rips from your throat.
when the aftershocks finally subside, leaving you limp and trembling against the couch, he finally releases you, pulling back to admire his handiwork with a cocky smirk. your thighs still clench weakly, trying to keep him close, but he's not about to complain.
you're half dazed and delirious, and leon’s breathy whispers barely penetrate the haze of lust clouding your mind.
“just one more baby, please?”
tags: @bonnibuckets @kuntprodukt
