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“I said, leave, asshole!” Your voice echoed down the quiet suburban street.
Mark, your boyfriend. No. Your ex-boyfriend, stood in your driveway with bloodshot eyes and that same pathetic expression he’d worn all morning.
All an act.
“You’re being ridiculous!” He shouted. “I was drunk!”
You barked out a laugh. “Oh, right.” You threw your hands into the air. “That makes it SO much better.”
“What the fuck do you want from me, huh?” He spread his arms dramatically. “You want me to beg? I’ll beg.”
You hear your new next-door neighbour’s door open. You pity him in the back of your mind, having to hear the chaos, but you keep your rage pointed at the useless boy in front of you.
“I want you…” Your voice cracked from shouting. “…to leave.” Silence hung for a beat. “Now, Mark.”
He stepped forward.
“You take one more step,” you warned, your fist clenching at your side, “and I swear to God I am going to punch you.”
He took another.
Idiot.
The crack of your fist against his nose echoed through the street.
“What the—.” Blood poured between his fingers as he lurched toward you. “You crazy bitch!”
He reached for your arm and then he disappeared.
One second he was lunging, the next he was airborne. He hit the lawn with enough force to wind him.
You blinked in confusion.
A pair of worn combat boots stopped beside him. Your gaze lifted. The man from next door stood over Mark, hands casually tucked into the pockets of a dark jacket as though throwing grown men across lawns was just another Tuesday.
“I think,” he said evenly, “she wants you to leave.”
Mark groaned, glaring up at him. “The fuck do you want, old man?”
The stranger sighed. “Old man?” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “… That’s rude.” He looked back down at Mark.
“You’ve got two options.” His voice stayed calm. “You can walk away” A pause. “Or she gets another swing.”
He nodded in your direction. A smug smile settled on your lips as you folded your arms and looked down at the pathetic boy on the floor.
Your head tilted in a silent challenge. The stranger caught the gesture, and the corner of his mouth lifted just a little more.
Mark climbed to his feet, clutching his nose. “My lawyer is going…” he stumbled back a moment, “to ruin you.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Right. We’ll see,” you gave a careless shrug. “You were basically trespassing.”
That shut him up.
You watched as he shuffled toward his car, shoulders hunched, his tail firmly tucked between his legs.
A satisfied smirk tugged at your lips.
It didn’t last long. Pain shot through the knuckles of your right hand.
“Ow… shit.” You glanced down. Angry purple bruises were already blooming across your knuckles.
“Hey.” The stranger’s voice was quiet as he stepped closer, his gaze fixed on your hand. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
He gently turned your hand over, his thumb hovering near the swelling without pressing on it.
A low whistle escaped him. “Yeah…” He glanced over the bruising already darkening your knuckles. “You’re going to feel that tomorrow.”
He looked up.
Pale blue eyes met yours, sharp, watchful, and carrying a kind of exhaustion that seemed older than the silver peppered through his blond hair. A day’s worth of stubble shadowed his strong jaw, softening features that might have otherwise looked severe.
He was taller than you’d thought. Broad shoulders filled out a worn leather jacket, making you suddenly aware of how close he was… and how small you felt standing beside him.
Say something.
You were staring.
“I’m [Y/N].” You blurt out.
Oh my god.
Heat rushed from your neck to the tips of your ears.
The corner of his mouth twitched as he caught the blush creeping across your face.
“Leon.”
“Well, Leon...” You rubbed the back of your neck. “Thanks for... you know.” You cleared your throat. “Stepping in.”
“Don't mention it.” He gave a small shrug before glancing back at your hand. “You got anything at home to wrap that?”
You looked down at the bruises blooming across your knuckles.
“No. I was going to grab something later.”
Leon turned toward his house.
“Come on.”
He glanced back over his shoulder.
“I've got a first-aid kit.”
You followed closely behind him. If you were still twenty and living at home, your parents would have murdered you for following a man into his home. But he seemed… alright.
Besides, he didn’t have to help you.
As you stepped inside his home, you noticed how empty it felt. It was only filled with the necessary items.
A couch, a TV, a small coffee table. No pictures hung on the walls, no plants tucked into the corners of the room. Nothing that hinted at the person who lived here.
“I know.” His voice pulled you from your thoughts. A quiet huff of laughter escaped him as he caught you looking around.
“I’m a minimalist.”
“Yeah…” You chuckled. “Hey, I’m not judging.” A grin tugged at your lips. “Less to clean.”
“Damn right.” He answered with a lopsided grin.
It was small and brief. But it was enough to make your stomach do an embarrassing flip.
“Sit.” His head inclined toward the couch.
You did.
The cushion dipped beneath your weight as he settled onto the coffee table in front of you, close enough that your knees nearly touched. He reached for your injured hand and began wrapping your bruised knuckles with practised ease.
“You a doctor, or something?”
A quiet huff escaped him. “Or something.”
His pale blue eyes flicked up to meet yours before returning to your hand. You took the hint and let it drop, not pressing further. You weren’t one to pry.
As he finished up with your hand, he turned it over gently once more, inspecting his work.
“Am I gunna make it, doc?” You teased.
Another brief lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He released your hand.
“It was close.” A quiet, breathless laugh escaped him. “No more time in the ring, yeah?”
“Yes, sir. I’m officially hanging up the gloves.” You paused. “At least until another boyfriend decides to cheat.”
He gave a small nod.
“Aim higher next time.”
“Note taken.”
A moment of silence ticked by. His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes.
“What’s the plan then?” He paused, “After this one?”
“Oh, you know. What’s that saying about getting under someone?” Your laugh filled the space between you.
Leon went still. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “…Right.”
The humour drained from your face. “Sorry. Shit— stupid joke.”
He stared at you for a long moment.
“He’s a damn fool, you know?” He shifted forward; his knees brushed against yours. “Fumbling you?” His head shook.
“It’s hardly a loss.” You shrug it off. “He was awful in the bedroom.” You laughed. “Wasted my entire twenties being with someone who couldn’t even—”
You stopped yourself, and heat climbed up your neck. “… You know what? That’s way too much information.”
You buried your face in your good hand for a second.
“Sorry, Leon.”
A stray lock of hair slipped across your face. As you looked back up, he closed the distance.
He was only a breath away when the back of his fingers brushed your temple, gently sweeping the strand behind your ear. His hand lingered for the briefest moment, fingertips grazing your cheek.
Warmth bloomed beneath your skin. Your gaze dropped to his lips before you could stop it.
He noticed.
His eyes lingered on yours for a heartbeat, searching.
“...Fuck it.”
He leaned in and claimed your lips in a hungry kiss, as though he'd spent the last several minutes talking himself out of doing exactly this.
Heat shot straight to your core, and you groaned against his lips.
This is insane. What the fuck am I doing?
Your thoughts tried to bring you back to reality, but then you felt his hands gripping your waist. He effortlessly pulled you onto his lap in a straddle.
His hand cupped your jaw, and with a press of his thumb to your chin, he opened your mouth.
The contact of his tongue against yours sent a ripple of pleasure straight to your core.
As you pressed yourself further into his lap, the hardened length in his trousers ground against your aching centre.
His hand gripped your waist as he groaned into your lips.
“Tell me to stop.” He rasped, breathless.
“Not happening.” You took his bottom lip between your teeth and slowly pulled.
His body tensed, and you felt the minute his restraint gave way.
His hands cupped the underside of your thighs, tugging you closer to him. He stood in one quick motion, carrying you effortlessly down his hallway to his bedroom.
He kicked the door shut with his boot behind him and threw you on his bed. His massive frame towered over you.
The bed dipped as he moved with predatory grace, holding himself above you, pressing his caged arousal against your centre.
“You feel that?” He murmurs into your neck and nips at the skin. Your body jolted at the sensation, and a groan escaped your lips. “I’m going to enjoy hearing you scream for me.”
He took his time peeling back your layers of clothing, carefully avoiding your injured hand.
As you lay there naked on his bed, he leaned back and let his eyes rake over you.
“Beautiful.” He breathed out. “I’m going to take my time with you.” His calloused hand cupped your breast, and he rubbed the pad of his thumb across your nipple.
“How old are you?” He asked as he opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a delicate black silk rope.
Your mouth dried. “Thirty.”
His mouth twitched. “You said you wasted your twenties on that pathetic boy?”
All you could do in that moment was nod as you let him tie the black silk around your wrists.
“Well,” He gave a final tug, ensuring your hands were pinned back, “You’re with a man now, sweetheart. I hope you’re ready.”
He shifted position, sliding down between your legs. He didn’t touch you directly, not yet.
Instead, he used his nose and lips to nuzzle along the inside of your thighs, inhaling the scent of your skin and the heat pouring off you.
The way you squirmed only made him more determined to prolong the torture.
After what felt like hours, he finally allowed his tongue to make contact, but only in the most maddening way possible, licking a slow, wet stripe from your knee up to the very edge of your core, stopping just shy of your centre.
He could feel your muscles quivering against him, your body practically screaming for release.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart.” He murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
A mewl sounded from your throat; your body arched involuntarily.
He couldn’t hold back any longer, he used the very tip of his tongue to trace maddeningly small circles directly over your clit. The pressure was precise, wet and excruciatingly slow.
He watched your face with ravenous intensity, savouring every whimper, every arch of your back, every desperate roll of your hips.
His hands gripped your thighs, digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving his mark there.
Good.
You didn’t want to forget this.
Ever.
“Beg for it.” He breathed against your soft flesh.
“Fuck… Leon.” Your voice rasped. “Please.”
“Good girl.” His voice was thick and dangerous.
The praise was the last thing before he acted. He didn’t hesitate anymore. He dived in, his tongue finding your clit with devastating accuracy and pressure. After all that teasing, the direct contact was like an explosion.
He licked with long, wet strokes, his tongue swirling and pressing with an intensity that was designed to push you over the edge.
Your body began to shake, and your hands tried to bring themselves down, but the restraints held.
“Oh… God.” A low groan reverberated through you.
“That’s it.” He said against your heat as he slid one finger inside you, curling it inward as his mouth took you again.
Your head tilted back as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. You felt your inner walls begin to clench, and the sensation at your clit began to release small waves of pleasure.
And then it happened.
Your body lifted from the bed, and he gripped the underside of your thighs, holding you in place as an orgasm ripped through you. He held you there, drinking in your release. His tongue lapped slowly against your heat, feeling every tremor.
“You did so good for me,” he murmured against your inner thigh, his voice rough with restrained desire. “Now it’s my turn.”
Leon’s pupils were blown wide, his expression one of raw, unfiltered hunger. He didn’t waste another second. He pulled back just enough to strip off his own clothes, tossing them somewhere on the floor.
He moved above you, pressing his skin to yours and paused.
“I’m on the pill.” You rasped, as if reading his thoughts.
He groaned in satisfaction at the statement.
Leon positioned himself between your thighs. His cock already slick and aching. He guided himself to your entrance and pushed inside slowly, stretching you, letting you adjust to him.
Once he was buried deep, Leon let out a sound that was half groan, half growl, his eyes squeezing shut.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He rasped, his voice raw but steady.
He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one designed to maximise the contact. He wanted you to feel the weight of him.
“Oh… Fuck… Leon.” You gasped.
Hearing his name come out of your mouth like a breathless prayer was the final straw. Leon’s grip on your hips tightened, his knuckles whitening as he drove into you with a fierce, unrelenting rhythm.
“Look at me.” He growled, his voice dropping to a rough, gravelly register. “Look at me while I ruin you for every other man.”
He wanted to see your face when you broke. He wanted to witness the exact moment you lost control.
As he thrust into you his thumb found your clit once more and began rubbing tight circles against the sensitive flesh.
“Fuck.” You arched into him at the sensation.
“This is mine now.” He grunts.
You didn’t even care if you had just met him. You knew that nothing else would compare to this, so fuck it. Yeah, he could have you.
“Say it.” He taunted as he continued his relentless drive into your body.
“It’s yours. You can have it.” A mewl escapes from your lips.
He shifted his angle, hitting that perfect spot that made your body convulse around him. He could feel your climax building again, that familiar tightening of your muscles that told him you were right on the edge. His own breathing came in ragged, desperate bursts as he pushed himself toward his own peak.
“Leon… I’m going to—.”
“Fuck yes you are.” He interrupts his movements, becoming faster, more urgent as he drove you both toward the edge. “Come for me.”
Those words were the tipping point. Stars exploded behind your vision, your body convulsed while waves of pleasure shuddered through you.
As your walls clenched around him and pulsed, he drove into you one last time, deep and desperate, his entire body tensing as he finally let go. A guttural sound tore from his throat as he climaxed, his muscles locking up as he poured everything he had into you.
Leon didn’t pull away immediately; he couldn’t. He stayed buried deep inside you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he slowly came back down to earth.
He pressed a kiss to your sweat-dampened temple, his breathing still uneven.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
Your heart was still hammering in your chest, ears ringing from the overwhelming feeling of him.
“I might punch someone else tomorrow.” You huffed out an exhausted laugh. “If this is what it gets me.”
He pulled back, and a lopsided grin settled on his features. “You’re mine now.” He chuckled.
“Come over anytime.” He paused. “I’d be glad to play doctor again.”