𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 ★ 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐒 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Chapter Eighteen: Irresponsible Adults Without Impulse Control

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

His fingers lift your chin as your run out of exposed skin on his neck, bringing your face back to his own to kiss you. He isn't gentle. All his built-up desires set themselves free as you finally give him the chance he's been waiting for.

The way he takes control of your lips is dizzying, his other hand pushes your head closer to his, soft groans against your lips as your hands slip up his shirt, feeling the hardened edges of his abdomen, sneakily trying to pull up his shirt but he grips your wrist tightly.

"Don't you want to take this slow?" He says, caressing your cheek.

"I don't think we have the time to take it slow, as much as I'd like to." You smile at the pink hue adorning his stirred-up expression, as he lets go of your wrist, letting you slip his shirt off entirely whilst he holds your waist. Despite having seen him shirtless before, the sight still comes as a wave of surprise. You've never paid any attention to avoid flattering him, never seeing the multiple scars scattered along his chest, or just how big and intricate the muscle he had earned from years of hard training and missions.

Your fingers run your hands through the ridges of his skin from his v-line to his neck, hearing his heavy, shaking breath quicken as you continue. He bucks his hips up, making you feel his hardness rub against the heat that builds up between your legs, finally giving you both some kind of release.

"Shit." He breathes out, fingers digging into your waist. When he composes himself enough, his hands slowly move down, caressing your sides as he does so until reaching the bottom of your shirt and holding it. "Can I?"

You nod, biting your lip nervously as you are slowly starting to realise what you're getting yourself into, but you know you're too reckless to stop. He lifts the shirt over your head, feeling his breath hitch in his throat at the first glimpse of your chest. You suddenly feel hyper-aware of your own scars, all your own defects. It's been a long time since you've been like this with someone, your government job not allowing much time for a relationship.

"Unreal." He says after a moment of admiring, still unable to draw his eyes away, he's so quiet it's almost like he's saying it to himself. You still manage to hear it, feeling your chest warm a bit. His hands slither up your back, unclasping your bra with one hand.

"I thought the last time you did this was 1998." You say lightly, trying to stop the frantic fluster washing over you.

"Doesn't mean I don't remember a few things." He smirks, watching as your breasts fall from their constricts. He pulls you by the back of the neck, mouth making contact with your neck in a trail of sloppy, soft kisses. "You're fucking gorgeous, you know that?" He murmurs into the curve of your neck, his other hand wraps itself around the swell of your breast, taking its tip into his index and thumb, rolling it softly.

"Leon~" His name rolls off your tongue in the shock of pleasure he brings. You can feel him smirking against your skin at the sound, his lips moving to latch onto your mound, sucking it gently. Your mouth is no longer your own, letting out hums and moans which you try and bite your lip to suppress. You lean your wrists against his chest, supporting your weak body.

The wet muscle laps against your nipple, and you can feel how hard he's gotten beneath you. Your hips roll against his shyly, there's a vibration on your chest as he grunts, it feels so good it makes you question your sensitivity right now. He pulls away and the unwanted cold air washes over that spot again, his hand taking his mouth's place, still giving both attention.

"Am I doing a good job, baby?" He coos, watching the enchanted look on your face, accompanied by an adorable dust of pink. You quickly nod, unable to make a response without letting a few embarrassing noises spill out.