after 'I do'
RE9!Leon Kennedy x VirginWife!Reader
After your wedding, you share your first time with Leon, your new husband.
(virgin reader, foreplay, praise)
based on this request
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“I never want to plan another wedding,” you groan as you nearly stumble into the elevator, your movements slightly limited by the makeshift leash of your skirts in Leon’s hands. Bundles of ivory fabric are stuffed into his grip as he follows you through the doors, pressing a glowing button on the interior before stepping to your side.
“Already thinking about the next one, are we?” He says with a slight chuckle, arching his brows. The gesture deepens the fine lines across his forehead.
“Of course not,” you reply, glancing up at him from low lids. “I’m just saying that I’m glad all the color matching and dress fittings are over, and I can focus on what’s really important.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
You look down at the white box resting on your forearms. Inside sits the top tier of your wedding cake in its almond and raspberry glory, all cream and sugar. “I didn’t get to finish my slice at the reception, and it’s all I’ve been thinking about the whole night.”
“That’s all you’ve been thinking about?”
“Yep.”
He tosses his neck back, head meeting the wall of the elevator. “Mmm,” he hums.
Truthfully, you had something else on your mind from the moment you woke up, through the exchange of vows during the ceremony, through the party that came after. You have no idea what you said ‘I do’ to because all you could think about was the long, laundry list of ways you could mess up your first time with Leon that night. You nearly blacked out during the reception, disassociating as you socialized with friends, and clinked champagne glasses that never touched your lips, trembling hands barely able to keep it resting in your grasp.
It was a personal conviction, not based on any religious teachings or cultural practices engrained in your being, telling you to wait until you are legally and lawfully bound to another before experiencing the act. It was a decision you made early on, when life was romantic and rose-hued, and you kept it tucked away in your heart, behind lock and key, as you got older.
It made more sense as the years went on, and came in handy as it acted like a sieve, sifting through the suitors who only wanted to get in your pants without commitment laid out like a brick path beforehand.
And it all paid off when you met Leon. He was older and more experienced, and with that came a graceful sort of patience and restraint the younger men you had dated severely lacked. He never pressured you to go down on him, indiscreetly pushing your head down to his crotch while you tried to cuddle, like so many previous partners had attempted. He didn’t poke or prod about what made you decide to wait until marriage, or call your decision ‘weird’ or ‘creepy’ like others had before. He was respectful, though he never let you go a day without confirming his attraction to you in ways he made sure you were comfortable with, never wanting to cross a boundary.
You can feel the tension between you, desire practically radiating from your new husband as he guides you further into the hotel room. You can definitely feel it as he pulls you into a kiss, your bodies meeting, his erection poking through his dress pants as his hands roam your satin-clad body.
“Can I be honest?” You ask, retreating slightly.
He’s slightly out of breath, panting from the last long-winded kiss the two of you shared, not sparing a moment to suck in any air. “Of course.”
“I’m a little nervous,” you confess, suddenly unable to meet Leon’s eyes as he gazes down at you. This is a man who knows you inside and out, every secret, every hope, dream, fear. Yet, in this moment, you cannot bring yourself to make eye contact as you have a million times before. “I didn’t think I would be, but I–I am.”
“Hey,” he says softly, a hand coming to tilt your jaw upward, dragging your eyes with it. “It’s alright. We can go slow, or wait until tomorrow or the day after, or whenever you feel ready.” He leans in slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Though I’d really love to show you how good I can make you feel.” His words ignite a flicker of warmth in your belly. “But we’ll do it all at your pace.”
You nod. “I want to, I really do. I think I’ve just built it up in my head for so long, that I'm worried I’ll be bad at it or it’ll be…I don’t know…disappointing?”
You’ve never been good at getting over the speedbumps of seemingly easy things: ripping off bandages, getting shots in the arm at the doctor’s office, walking into first dates. What you are good at, however, is letting things fester in your mind, building up mole hills until they’re as tall and vast as Kilimanjaro.
He chuckles. The low, rumbling sound makes your gut gurgle, a warmth spread across your chest. “It won’t be disappointing, I promise. Not if I have anything to do with it.”
He’s right. It’s not disappointing when you come violently on his tongue, nor is it when you finish on his fingers. Twice.
Breathless and panting like an animal stranded in the heat, you fall back onto the mattress, your skin adhering to the bedding with a thin layer of sweat. Leon crawls over you, sucking the last drops of your orgasm off his fingers as he kneels between your legs.
Your dress has long been discarded, his tuxedo thrown on the back of the chair. It’s now just you and your husband, completely bare together, another second closer to a kind of union not forged in ink and paper, but flesh and heartbeat.
You have seen him shirtless before, all pale skin and taut muscle, but the complete picture is something entirely new, and far more delicious than your imagination could ever conjure. As he stands above you, his abdomen tenses and releases while he catches his breath, the valleys and mountains of his muscles rousing a pool of saliva beneath your tongue. You’ve never in your life seen a man of his age that looks as spectacular as Leon, and it makes you wonder if you married a human at all, or some godly being descended from the mount.
Taking in the sight of his brawny arms, the veins that trail up and down his thick forearms, the lithe grace of the fingers that were once plunging in and out of your cunt, you hesitate before lowering your gaze any further than the line of hair below his navel. You promised you were ready–you cried out how you needed to take all of him as his tongue worked you through your climax–but looking at the sheer size of him has you doubting your ability to take it all.
“We’ll go slow,” he assures as though he’s able to read your mind. Perhaps your worries are scrawled across your forehead. Perhaps he can see the fear clouding your eyes. His hands come to your thighs, parting them so as to accommodate his hips as he settles between your legs, coming down to his forearms, bracketing your head. “You okay?”
You nod eagerly in confirmation, trying to ignore the way your walls clench and tighten in anticipation of his arrival. “I’m ready,” you verbalize before taking his lips into another kiss, trailing your fingertips up and down his biceps, drinking up the mass beneath his opaline skin. “I want all of you, Mr. Kennedy.”
“I’ll give you whatever you want, Mrs. Kennedy.”
He pumps himself in his hand until he’s at full stiffness. You watch the movement between your bodies, eyes intently focused on the way he aligns the head of his cock with your entrance. Inhaling and exhaling, you fully relax into the stretch, savoring the sting as he slowly eases into your pussy. It’s decadent, the way your body shifts around him, walls squeezing and pulsing with every inch he gives.
Leon hisses through gritted teeth, tossing his neck back in ecstasy as he plunges the fulness of his size into you. “Fuck,” he swears. “You’re so tight.” He glances down at you, eyes wide, brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”
You move to cup his cheek, stubble tickling your palm. “I’m okay. Keep going.”
He nods as he removes half of himself, diving back in. It doesn’t take long to find the right pace, for the sting to melt into white-hot pleasure. The discomfort lent itself to euphoria the more Leon thrusted in and out of you, the more he sang your praises, praying to the altar between your legs.
“Oh god,” he bellows, face contorting as you clench around him. “You’re doing so good, baby.” His voice is low and rumbling like a predatory growl as he gives into his own pleasure, hardly able to speak eloquently without being interrupted by the primal moans that leap from his chest. “So fucking good.”
His fingers interlace with yours, pushing your knuckles into the bedding, dragging your arms above your head. He uses the position as leverage so angle himself upward as he pistons into you, the head of his cock kissing the button behind your front wall, the spongey spot that has you babbling like the spigot of a fountain.
“I think I might–”
“Go ahead, baby. I’ve got you,” he rasps, palms still pressed against your own. The sight of his triceps flexing from above is enough to push you toward the edge, the all too familiar sensation building in your core. “I wanna feel you come around me. Let me have it.”
As he continues to roll his hips, another wave of pleasure crashes over you, holding your body ransom to your climax until it dissipates and leaves you quivering on the bed, limbs useless and trembling. Your husband’s name pours from your lips along with wet dribble pooling at the corners of your mouth.
Leon fucks the mess you made back into your pussy. “That was so fucking hot,” he slurs, close to his own release. “My gorgeous wife.” He leans in to press a sloppy kiss on your lips, the tip of his tongue licking up the slobber threatening to drip down your chin. “My beautiful, stunning wife–fuck–I’m so close.”
You lock your ankles around his hips, commanding the jelly that was once your muscle, to hold onto him as he continues to thrust. “Inside,” you order softly. “I want to feel all of you tonight.”
Leon’s pelagic eyes shoot open, the white glistening as he stares down at you, a look of utter bewilderment splashed across his features. “Are you sure?” He sobers up enough to ask for confirmation. “What if–”
“I’m sure,” you blurt. “I want it. I want all of you.” You snake your arms around his torso, pulling him down until his chest is flush to your own, until you can feel the beat of his heart, the curl of his abdomen.
“Oh fuck,” he curses. “Fuck. I’m gonna come.” It’s hardly a warning, because just when you part your lips to give permission, he meets his release, spilling the evidence of his orgasm into you, his cock twitching as he gives you one final thrust.
