I feel it too. The fullness. The stretch. The strange intimacy of being connected like this, of having him inside me while I'm on top looking down at him.
He looks wrecked. Hair mussed, pupils blown, jaw clenched with restraint.
I did that to him. The knowledge of that gives me courage.
I roll my hips slowly before I lift up slightly, then sink back down. The friction makes us both gasp.
"That's it," Leon encourages, his hands guiding but not controlling. "Find your rhythm. Take what you need." His eyes are taking every inch of me in. Lingering on my tits, the marks on my thighs he put there, the space where we’re connected.
I start moving in a slow rhythm, learning the angle, the depth, what feels good. His hands help support me, but I'm the one setting the pace, the one in control.
And it feels so good. Better than good.
Every time I sink down, he hits something deep inside me that makes sparks shoot up my spine. Every time I lift up, the drag of him against my walls makes me shudder.
"Leon," I gasp, moving faster now, chasing that feeling.
"I've got you." His hands tighten on my hips. "I've got you,moya krasotka. Take what you need."
I brace my hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscle twitch beneath my palms, the rapid beat of his heart. His tattoos shift under my fingers as I move, riding him harder now, faster, losing myself in the sensation.
This is what I needed. This control. This choice. This feeling of taking instead of being taken.
"Touch yourself," Leon commands suddenly, and the authority in his voice makes me clench around him. "I want to watch you come on my cock."
His words send a jolt straight through me, dirty and commanding in a way that should embarrass me but only heightens the heat building low in my belly. My fingers circle my clit faster, slick from where we're joined, and the dual sensation of him filling me so deeply while I touch myself, pushes me closer to the edge with every roll of my hips.
I can feel it coming, that coiling tension winding tighter and tighter inside me, like a spring about to snap. My breaths come in short, ragged gasps, my body moving on instinct now, grinding down harder, lifting up just enough to feel the exquisite drag of him before slamming back. The room fills with the lewd sounds of us: the wet slap of skin on skin, my whimpers turning into desperate moans, his low growls rumbling from his chest.
My eyes flutter open, locking onto his face, but his gaze isn't on mine. It's fixed lower, right where my hand works frantically between my legs, where his cock disappears into me over and over. The intensity in those grey eyes, dark and feral, like he's memorizing every slick inch, every quiver, makes my core clench around him involuntarily. He likes this. He loves watching me take him, watching me chase my own pleasure while he's buried deep. Knowing that makes everything sharper, hotter.
"Oh god—Leon—" My voice breaks, high and desperate, as the pressure builds to an unbearable peak. My thighs tremble uncontrollably, muscles burning from the effort, but I can't stop. Won't stop. My free hand digs into his chest, nails scraping over his tattoos, leaving faint red trails on his skin. He hisses, but his hands on my hips urge me on, steady and unyielding.
The orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, sudden and all-consuming. It starts deep inside, where he hits that perfect spot with every thrust of my hips, radiating out in pulsing waves that make my whole body seize.
I cry out loud, raw, a shattered "Leon!" that echoes off the walls as my inner walls clamp down around him like a vice, spasming in frantic rhythms. Heat floods through me, liquid fire spreading from my core to my fingertips, my toes, making my back arch sharply and my head fall back.
And then, oh fuck, something releases, a gush of warmth between us, wet and unexpected. I squirt, the sensation intense and overwhelming, soaking his cock, his thighs, the sheets beneath us. It prolongs the climax, drawing it out in shuddering aftershocks that leave me gasping, my body jerking involuntarily with each pulse.
The moment it happens, when that sudden, overwhelming rush tears through me and I feel myself gush around him, Leon’s entire body locks beneath me.
His hands clamp down on my hips so hard I know I’ll have bruises, fingers digging in like he’s anchoring himself to the earth. A low, guttural sound rips out of his throat, something between a growl and a broken moan, raw and unrestrained. His head tips back against the pillows, the strong column of his throat working as he swallows hard, jaw clenched so tight the muscle there jumps.
I can feel him swell inside me, thicker, harder, impossibly fuller, right before the first hot pulse hits. He comes hard, violently, each thick spurt flooding me in time with the frantic clenching of my own release. It’s like he’s trying to match me, to meet every shuddering wave of my orgasm with one of his own. His cock throbs and jerks deep inside, over and over, filling me until I can feel the warmth of him spilling out where we’rejoined, mixing with my own wetness, making everything slicker, messier, more intimate.
His abs contract in sharp, involuntary ripples. The tattoos across his chest and shoulders seem to shift with every ragged breath he drags in. His hips snap up in short, helpless thrusts that bury him even deeper as he empties himself completely.
“Florrie—” My name is torn out of him, hoarse and wrecked, almost reverent. His brows are drawn tight like he’s in pain and bliss at the same time. Then they snap open, finding mine, and the look he gives me is so unguarded, so raw, it steals what little breath I have left.
He’s beautiful like this. Completely undone. The controlled, dangerous man from the warehouse is gone; in his place is someone who looks like he’s just been cracked open, like I’ve reached inside and touched something he keeps locked away from everyone else.
My fingers slip from my too sensitive clit, and I collapse forward onto his chest, trembling, my breaths coming in pants as the waves finally start to ebb.
I'm boneless, spent, floating in a haze of pleasure so profound it borders on pain. But underneath it all, there's a fierce satisfaction, I did this. I took this. And it was everything I needed.
Leon
I can't move. Can't think. Can barely fucking breathe.
