Archive of Our Own

For the past two hours, the only sounds she had heard were the gentle strains of violins, polite laughter and the clinking of champagne flutes. If there was one more conversation about the current state of the world or the weather, she would jump down from one of the ornate balconies and the sound of her landing would be the only thing filling this gigantic hall.

She'd been to dozens of parties like this one before, and hated every single one of them. The plastered-on smiles, the clouds of thousand-dollar perfumes around men and women, and the weirdly superficial light from the electric chandeliers all made her feel sick to her stomach.

Working for the DSO wasn't all too bad, except for events like this. And this one in particular: the guest of honour had vanished an hour ago and nobody had found him since. Good for him, but bad for the schedule.

Ninety percent of the guests were starving and only holding out with canapés and alcohol.

She herself had been better prepared for this situation. She knew how these things went. While getting ready, she had devoured $30 worth of Taco Bell, and was now eyeing the fine, rich people politely arguing over the last mini pistachio tartare.

If only it weren't for this crushing headache, probably caused by too much alcohol, the poor air quality in this room, and the monotonous conversations.

She desperately needed some fresh air. The faces around her were blurring together. The only problem was that the terraces were overflowing with people like her, and she would have collapsed between the hot bodies in fancy dresses before reaching the exit doors.

It was time to make a French exit before the people around her started talking to her again. Good thing she worked for a government agency. Getting out of difficult situations was her bread and butter.

With a polite smile, she took a few steps back, then turned quickly towards the personal exit. From experience, she knew there were always some empty rooms and hidden doors that the wealthy guests weren't supposed to see. If she was lucky, she would find an empty room where she could get her bearings and put on a smile for another hour, before the organisers gave up searching for the fugitive guest of honour and she could go home.

Servers carrying trays of filled and empty glasses and plates passed her in the corridors. Some of them looked as though they wanted to say something about her being in the wrong place, but none of them dared to actually confront her. It was usually like that.

After searching multiple corridors, opening countless doors and climbing two flights of stairs, she finally reached a dimly lit, eerily quiet hallway. The violins downstairs were now just a faint hum and the low lighting was a welcome relief for her aching head.

She pressed open the door on her right in the hope of finding some abandoned chairs or at least a rug to sit on.

Instead, she found an entirely different scene.

"Mr. Kennedy," she gasped in surprise.

Leon S. Kennedy—fugitive guest of honour, and saviour of the world—was sitting on a velvet sofa with a whiskey glass in his hand, staring at the flames in the fireplace.

As soon as he registered her sudden appearance, his face fell. "Fuck."

She didn't dare move. The door was wide open behind her.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" She asked sheepishly.

His free hand moved from his lap to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"No, I was just hoping to get a moment of peace and quiet," he replied.

A moment. He'd been missing for over an hour. Had he just been sitting here drinking whiskey?

"No one knows you're here," she assured him. "Well, except for me now. But don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone."

He tipped his glass in her direction. "Appreciate it."

Since she had no intention of leaving and he hadn't asked her to go yet, she dared to close the door behind her and sit down on the sofa facing him. She was curious about him. Everyone here knew of Leon S. Kennedy, saviour of the world, but nobody really knew Leon, the person. They had been working for the same people since she was hired five years ago, yet she had never really spoken to him.

From her colleagues, she knew that he was a very private person. The only things they knew about him were his greatest successes and accomplishments: He had survived Racoon City, rescued the president's daughter and saved humanity from certain death multiple times. Now, he had prevented the destruction of the entire planet.

They were all still alive because of him, but only the people in this building knew it.

"Why are you here anyway? Are you not enjoying the party?" She asked. They had flown in the world's best chefs and bought the most expensive champagne, yet here he was, alone with a bottle of alcohol you could buy from any shop.

"I fucking hate these things," he sighed, taking a sip.

She leaned forward, her forearms on the backrest of the sofa and her cleavage on display.

"Big, expensive gala nights in your honour? Because you saved the world?" She teased.

He grunted. "I know, I know. I'm painfully aware."

She stood up straight again. Her little experiment had been quite insightful.

His eyes were all over her. He hadn't dared to look directly at her chest, but he wanted to. His pupils were dilated, he was breathing slightly faster, and the way he was subtly trying to readjust his trousers told her everything she needed to know.

"Mr. Wang has been searching for you all night," she told him in a low voice.

"I bet he has." He took another sip, his gaze never leaving her.

"But you're hiding in the attic," she said.

"Thought it was a good hiding spot."

She started to step around the sofa. "Well, it is."

"Except you found me."

Their eyes locked as she took a seat opposite him. The velvet felt smooth and cold against her bare back and arms. "But I wasn't looking for you," she admitted.

"Then what were you looking for?" He wanted to know.

His gaze followed her legs as she crossed them. The slit in her dress didn't leave much to the imagination.

"A moment of peace and quiet," she replied.

He leaned back and poured himself another double. "You've come to the right place."

"They want to give you a medal or something, don't they?"

He scoffed as he took a sip. The thought of being honoured with a cheap metal disc clearly didn't please him.

"Some kind of big thank you for saving the world," she continued.

He grunted again. Not a man of many words.

She was going to take a risk now. She knew he found her attractive, and she also knew that his idea of gratitude for saving all of humanity was different from shaking hands and receiving prizes.

"How can I thank you for saving the world?" she asked.

Her heart was beating so fast that she was afraid he could see it through her dress.

He was a very attractive man. Although he was much older than her, she found herself incredibly drawn to him. He was in great shape and paid a lot of attention to his appearance. His greyish hair was slicked back for the occasion, with hints of its former dark blonde colour shining through. His face was wrinkled with age, but this somehow made him even more attractive. The eyes that had been following her all this time were bright blue and exuded experience. The shadow of beard around his chin and cheeks gave him a slightly rougher, more rugged look. He was deadly. He knew it, she knew it, and the government-issued 9mm pistol lying next to the whiskey bottle on the side table confirmed it.

Still, here she was. Shooting her shot.

He looked pleasantly surprised by her boldness. The left corner of his mouth twitched slightly, while his eyes practically ripped her clothes off. He had stayed classy for as long as he hadn't known her intentions, but now the implication of her words hung heavily in the air and he couldn't hold himself back either.

"I have some ideas," he said.

"What kind of ideas?" She wanted to know.

"Drop your dress to the floor," he ordered.

A rush of heat went through her entire body. Everything was on fire now, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. His low, husky voice stirred something deep inside her. She tensed her thighs as she felt a warm, tingly sensation spread through her lower body.

"But I'd be naked except for my knickers," she said. Her voice was hoarse with accumulated desire.

He didn't move a muscle, his eyes still fixed on her. "All the more reason to drop it."

She uncrossed her legs and slowly removed her high heels. There was no way she would risk an embarrassing tumble just because she was too tipsy to take her shoes off while standing. Although she attended more of these events than she would have liked, she didn't usually undress for a man three storeys above the event itself. There was a first time for everything, she supposed.

Once her shoes were off, she stood up and walked the three steps between the two sofas. When she stopped, she was standing on the rug right between his spread legs. He fell back a little to look up at her.

She was so close that she noticed a lot about him. The first thing was his scent. The smell of whiskey and burnt wood was strong so close to the fireplace, but his perfume was almost stronger. She'd never been good at identifying smells, but this one definitely smelled expensive. He looked as good as he smelled. Not many men could say that about themselves.

The second, and probably more important, thing was the state of his suit. The jacket of his black tuxedo was draped over the back of the sofa. His bow tie was undone around his neck and the first three buttons of his shirt were open. Through the opening, she could see the slightest hint of hair on his chest.

But that wasn't all. His trousers looked a little tight around the crotch area. She hadn't even started yet, but he was already getting hard.

Despite the confidence this gave her, she still needed one last push to convince her brain that this was a good idea. Her body was all for it, but her mind was holding her back.

Leaning over slightly, she took the half-empty whiskey glass from his hand. He watched her closely and allowed her to take it, not saying anything when she gulped down half of its contents.

She'd never understood why people drank whiskey neat in the first place. It was absolutely disgusting, but it was alcohol, and it made her feel good.

With a triumphant little smile, she lifted her hands to her shoulders and hooked her index fingers around the straps of her dress. Since the dress was practically backless, letting the straps slide down her arms would make it fall to the floor.

He was mesmerised by her subtle movement. His eyes followed the silk fabric as it flowed down her body and pooled around her ankles.

One of the hottest things she had ever seen was him watching her over the rim of his now-empty whiskey glass. The way he focused on her bare skin while swallowing the bitter liquid sent shivers down her spine.

She was almost completely naked in front of him and he looked like he could hardly contain himself. One step forward, one kick back, and the dress flew behind her.

The only things keeping her from complete nudity were her knickers and the sticky bra that had given her breasts the desired shape without spoiling the backless design of the dress.

At first, he was clearly focused on her bra situation. His desire was evident, but the look he gave her also spoke of curiosity.

"Does this hurt?" He asked.

Fearing that her voice would betray her because of all the pent-up emotions she felt about standing in front of him almost completely naked, she just lightly shook her head. It was pulling at the skin a little, but she wouldn't describe it as painful.

"May I?" He looked up at her, his eyes almost pleading.

Until now, he hadn't dared to touch her. Other men would have taken her undressing as a form of consent, but he asked.

Fuck, she felt her knickers getting wetter and wetter.

"Yes."

He put down the empty glass and took the sticky corners of the bra cups between his thumb and forefinger. The sticky bra was designed not just to come off easily, but with a little tug her breasts were free of the silicone cups.

He put the bra next to the glass on the table, took a deep breath, and took her in completely.

"You're gorgeous," he remarked.

This brought a genuine smile to her face. Not many men took the time to really look at the naked woman in front of them. He still hadn't dared to touch her properly.

"I also have an idea of how to thank you," she said. One look at the bulge in his trousers let her know, that her idea was growing bigger and bigger.

"Yeah?" He chuckled.

She placed her hands on the sofa next to his thighs and dropped to her knees in one swift motion.

His mouth was slightly open and he was breathing faster now. When she looked up at him with her big eyes, he mouthed all kinds of curses under his breath.

Her hands wandered up from the velvet to his thighs and then to his hips.

"May I?" She asked, reaching for the button and zipper of his trousers.

"Fuck. Yes, you may," he mumbled.

Smirking again, she moved her hands over the fabric of his trousers to see how he would react when she came into contact with his hard cock.

His thighs tensed immediately, and a small hiss escaped his lips.

"You little vixen," he scolded.

"I promise I'll be nice to you now," she teased.

He didn't say anything else. He just watched her undo the button and then the zip of his trousers. From the imprint on the fabric, she could already tell that he had a big cock. This would be a pleasant challenge.

She grabbed the fabric of his white shirt and pulled it out of his trousers. It was only fair that he should show her what was underneath his clothes too, so she started to undo the buttons. With each button she opened, she placed a light kiss on the soft skin of his upper body.

The first kiss was very close to the waistband of his boxers. There was a little trail of darker hair disappearing in his underwear that was worthy of a little kiss. His breathing fluttered with all these delicate touches.

The next few buttons revealed six well-defined stomach muscles. They were chiselled into his skin. Apparently, saving the world required quite the workout routine.

The muscles didn't stop at his stomach, either. His chest was also well-defined and covered in a thin layer of trimmed hair. She kissed each side of his chest, gently caressing old and new scars on his otherwise smooth skin and tracing the shape of his muscles with tender fingers.

Goosebumps broke out all over his body once she lightly drove her fingers back down his stomach and onto his lower body.

One look at his beautiful face confirmed that he was definitely enjoying this. His eyes were barely open. He probably wanted to close them and fully immerse himself in the feeling, but he also needed to keep them at least partly open to see everything she was doing.

Her fingers reached the happy little trail of hair on his lower stomach again, slowly descending further down. When they came into contact with his boxers, his whole body tensed with anticipation.

His bulge had grown bigger and bigger as she explored his upper body. The thought of his big, hard cock made her cunt clench. Now, only one layer of fabric was between her and his prick.

She slid her hand into his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft. A little hiss escaped his mouth at the sudden contact.

Using her other hand, she pulled down the fabric of his boxers and took his prick out. The moment she laid eyes on it, her heart started beating faster. It was of considerable size—not too big, but definitely above average—had quite a vast circumference and was streaked with thick veins. He wasn't clean-shaven down there either, but neatly trimmed.

She gathered some saliva in her mouth and spat it onto the palm of her hand. He took a deep breath because he knew exactly what was about to happen.

To find out what he liked, she gave him a firm first stroke and was immediately rewarded with a groaned "Fuck".

"Too tight?" She asked.

"No, tighter," he murmured. His cheeks had turned dark red and he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

She fastened her grip around him, rotating her hand as she moved it up and down his cock. The sweet little sounds coming out of his mouth encouraged her to try more things he might like.

She paused for a few seconds to pull his trousers and boxers down further. After initially being confused as to why she had suddenly stopped, he realised what she was doing and lifted his hips a little to make it easier for her.

Then she wrapped her hand around his cock again, angling it towards his stomach, and licked the underside of his shaft until she reached the tip. His head fell back onto the sofa's headrest and a low moan escaped his lips.

She licked him again. When she reached the tip this time, she took it in her mouth and sucked gently. The deep breath he let out vibrated through his entire body, sending chills down her spine. Fuck, this was so hot. Her knickers were completely soaked by now.

The salty taste of precum spread over her tongue as she circled it around the tip. His cock was so thick and long that she could never fit it all in her mouth, but she wanted to find out how much she could take. She moved her head down along his prick until she started to feel her throat fighting against it. Only one or two centimetres more and her gag reflex would kick in.

She really wanted to pleasure him, but she definitely wouldn't risk vomiting. With all the junk food and alcohol in her stomach, it was too risky.

So, instead of taking him any deeper, she moved her head up until she reached the tip again. Now she knew how deep she could go, her head bobbed up and down on his cock while her hand took care of the rest.

She repeated this a few times, letting her tongue explore the veins on his prick and listening to the sweet sounds of pleasure coming from his mouth. All the while, her cunt was clenching and pulsating like crazy. She was so turned on that, no matter how hard she pressed her thighs together, it no longer satisfied her. She needed this cock inside her cunt as soon as possible, but first she wanted to savour every sound he made because of her.

When he suddenly grabbed her hair, she realised how focused she had been on sucking his prick. Glancing up quickly, she saw that his eyes were barely open. He watched her take him in over and over again.

Their eyes locked, and the next time she reached the tip, she pulled away completely, giving him a few strokes before licking along his shaft and taking him into her mouth again. His breathing quickened at that, and his cock started to twitch lightly.

When she bobbed her head up and down afterwards, his hand was there to guide it. He didn't push her down, he just held onto her hair while his prick was swirled by her tongue over and over again and disappeared into her mouth.

She sucked his cock, making him moan and gasp, almost causing him to lose control. However, he never forced himself any deeper inside her. His hips spasmed a few times, but he didn't thrust upwards and shove himself into her throat. Though he probably wanted to.

Her head moved up and down along the length of his prick. The longer she continued this motion, the more she could feel him twitching and moving underneath her. His cock disappeared into her hot, wet mouth over and over again.

At one point, he let out a loud hiss, grabbed her hair and stopped her from moving her head.

"Wait. Fuck," he moaned. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. If you want me to fuck you, you'll have to stop. I'm about to come."

She wiped a few droplets of saliva from her lips and chin, looked up at him and felt his cock still twitching in her hand.

"Shit, that's not helping," he mumbled.

What a shame he stopped her. She'd been doing so well. She wanted him to fuck her, especially now that she knew what he was working with, but that didn't mean he couldn't come in her mouth. She'd been prepared to taste his semen and then let him use her however he wanted.

"We could wait a little while, and then you can fuck me," she suggested.

The hand in her hair gently pulled her head up a little higher. Apparently, having her mouth so close to his cock made him a little nervous.

"We'll need to get out of here at some point," he said.

A weak excuse. He didn't even want to be down there.

She raised a cocky eyebrow. "Do we?"

He let out a deep chuckle at that. "Don't forget I'm a bit older than you. I only have so much stamina."

For fuck's sake, he was hot. She needed to remind herself that he was probably around fifty, even though his body certainly didn't look it. Her throbbing cunt really liked the idea of him fucking her right then, but she also didn't want this to end too quickly.

Still, she honoured his wishes by letting go of his prick and getting up instead. He watched her stretch out her legs and place her hands next to his head on the backrest of the sofa. In one smooth movement, she positioned her legs next to his and straddled him, taking care to leave enough space between his cock and her cunt.

"Well, you look like you have a lot of stamina," she said, her hands gliding from the velvet of the sofa to his shoulders, over his chest, and down to his abs.

His hands found her thighs, moving over her hips to her waist. They explored each other's bodies, stalling for time, like the calm before the storm.

"I'll have to be able to stand up to receive that stupid medal," he replied, though he didn't seem particularly focused on any medals. His eyes had left her face and were now blatantly staring at her breasts.

She placed her right index finger under his chin and made him look up at her again. "I only need one thing to stand," she told him, her voice as sultry as ever.

He sighed, but it almost sounded like a moan. "Do you really want to tire me out?"

"Fine. I won't be cruel." She softened her voice and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck. "Let me thank you properly, though," she said, planting soft kisses on his right cheek and working her way over his nose to the other side of his face. "How do you want me?" she whispered, reaching his left ear.

One of his hands left her waist and grabbed her chin instead. He straightened her head and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. She smiled at him and stole a light kiss back. The next kiss wasn't so innocent. Their lips melted together and they both moaned into each other's mouths.

His arms were now wrapped around her back, pulling her closer. Her bare breasts collided with his chest. His cock was still very much exposed between them, so when her body crashed into his, it landed directly beneath her throbbing cunt.

She moved her hips slightly, not enough to stimulate him properly, but enough to make it rub against her sensitive clit. They both moaned into the kiss at the same time. It was quite impressive how one simple move could bring so much pleasure to two people at the same time.

The kiss became much sloppier after that. The sensation of his hard cock against her throbbing cunt occupied their minds more than keeping their lips pressed together. He moved down her jaw and planted breathless kisses around her ear.

"Fuck, I want you so badly," he murmured.

She couldn't carry on like this for much longer. She needed him. Her cunt was clenching around nothing while the only thing preventing his hard prick from entering her was a thin layer of lacy underwear.

Her patience was wearing very thin. She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. "Good. I want you to fuck me. Right now," she ordered breathlessly.

He kissed her one last time and lifted her off his lap.

"Lie down," he said, standing up.

She did as she was told, resting her head against the slightly raised armrest of the sofa. From this position, she could see exactly what he was doing.

Since his shirt was already fully open, he just needed to undo the cuffs and remove the loose bow tie from around the collar. He then let the fabric glide over his shoulders and down his arms before throwing it somewhat neatly onto the second velvet sofa.

Fate was really on her side today. Even with his shirt still on, he was one of the sexiest men she had ever encountered. But this... his arms... She had never wanted something or someone so badly in her life.

He was strong and masculine without seeming like a poser. These muscles weren't just for show to boost his ego. They were the result of pure dedication, discipline and necessity. Someone who occasionally saved the world definitely needed biceps like that. He could probably lift this sofa above his head. With her on it.

Her entire body was on fire.

Now, he was only wearing open trousers and boxers, looking down on her as she lay on the couch. His stare didn't make her feel uncomfortable at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was probably the sexiest view she had ever had. He couldn't get enough of focusing on her breasts and letting his gaze wander down towards her drenched knickers, ravishing every inch of her body.

The desire on his face was almost unbearable. She pressed her thighs together as she watched him take the open whiskey bottle from the table, take a proper swig and put it back down.

He came closer to her again, the smell of whiskey even stronger now.

"Give me your wrists," he said.

She looked up at him. In his right hand was the undone bow tie.

Fuck. She must have been so wet that her knickers had become darker in colour.

With her pulse spiking, she did as she was told. She'd never done anything like this before, but the thought of being completely at his mercy, of relinquishing all control for once, was extremely arousing.

Fortunately, she had seen enough film scenes where something like this happened, so she knew to join her hands at the wrists and hold them out to him.

Apparently, the fact that she wasn't unknowing amused him. He had a big, wicked smirk on his face as he wrapped her wrists in smooth, silky fabric and bound them together. She could still move her wrists around a little in her restraints, but they were secure enough that she wouldn't be able to get out of them. They were not too tight or too loose.

It was also the perfect opportunity for him to grab both her arms with ease. He simply pushed them above her head and held them there. With one knee between her legs and his other hand on the sofa next to her waist, he was practically on top of her.

His face was close to hers. Leaning down towards her left ear, he murmured, "Just say the word and I'll untie you, understood?"

She swallowed. This was getting serious.

"Yeah," she answered obediently.

When he loosened his grip on her wrists slightly, she tried to bend her elbows to make her position more comfortable.

He immediately tightened his grip again, forcing her hands against the velvety armrest.

"Arms up. If they come down, I'll have to punish you," he said.

A snort almost escaped her mouth. Okay, Mr. Fifty Shades of Kennedy.

She had to admit that being manhandled by him like this was a little hot, but she also really had to restrain herself from laughing. People probably had good reason to take this kind of thing seriously, but to her it sounded a bit comical. It was straight out of a very bad but very entertaining movie.

She decided to play along.

"What kind of punishment?" She asked innocently.

It was as if she could see the debate in his head in real time. He was probably deciding how far he could go.

"I'll make you drink more whiskey, you little brat," he finally told her. His head came down to her ear again, sending shivers down her spine as his hot breath brushed her sensitive skin. "I don't want the others to hear me spanking you."

Oh, so he was serious. Who knew what else could have been on the table if he hadn't restricted himself? Did she even want to know? She'd never had any experience with this sort of thing before, but testing his limits was kind of exciting.

"Yeah, what would they think of their big hero?" She asked sarcastically.

His jaw visibly ground while he stared into her eyes. He clearly didn't like sassy retorts. But she was so good at them!

"Careful. There's a lot worse I can do than spanking," he challenged.

She did believe him. He certainly looked capable of doing very bad things. Perhaps one day she would discover what was worse than a spanking, but for now, she had teased him enough. She didn't want to be punished, she wanted sex.

She gave him a little smirk. "Guess I'll have to be a good girl then."

He looked at her for a few more seconds, his head filled with images and fantasies. Then, as if he had just woken up from a trance, he suddenly sat up straight and lightly patted the underside of her thigh.

"Arse up," he said.

She shifted her weight onto her legs and thrust her hips up slightly. His fingers hooked around the waistband of her knickers and slowly pulled them down her legs. Her heart was beating twice as fast as his eyes fixed on her wet cunt.

"Good girl," he mumbled.

She really enjoyed the sound of that.

When her knickers finally reached her feet, she lifted her legs to let him take them off completely. What happened next almost made her moan just from watching.

Her bottoms were completely soaked. She had felt it before, and could now see the transparent substance on the fabric. He ran his fingers over the centre of her knickers, gathered up some of the fluid and spread it on his fingers. Then, as she watched with her mouth agape, he took his cock in one hand and stroked himself with the traces of her arousal still on his fingers.

Fuck.

Her knickers disappeared into the pocket of his trousers.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, still holding his cock. With his other hand, he took the whiskey bottle and took another big swig.

She couldn't speak properly. She was so mesmerised by his big hand spreading her wetness onto his prick that she momentarily forgot how to form sounds with her mouth. The only thing she could manage was to nod absently.

"Say it," he commanded.

Her eyes snapped from his cock to his eyes. They were absolutely feral. Whatever was brewing in his deranged, perverted mind would probably ruin every other sexual encounter for her in future.

But did she actually trust him? She thought about it for a moment, swallowed, and then remembered who she had before her. He'd saved the world. Why wouldn't she trust him?

Besides, if she was going to be used by a man, she might as well let it be him. "Yes. Do whatever you want."

"This is certainly not the place to do whatever I want, love. But I'll do a few things that we'll both enjoy," he said.

She would take his word for it. After all, he had tied her up and left her completely naked on a velvet couch. He'd better have some ideas to make it worth their while.

The only thing left for her to do was to stay still and wait for his next move. He still had the bottle of whiskey in his hand and was now placing his thumb on the opening.

What the fuck was his plan? She watched him turn the bottle above her chest and gasped as the brown liquid trickled onto her breasts. It wasn't cold, but it also wasn't at all what she'd expected.

Fuck the velvet, apparently. The whiskey ran down her breasts and onto the sofa. Her entire upper body was drenched by the time he was finished.

This certainly wasn't what she'd imagined when she told him to do whatever he wanted.

He put the whiskey bottle on the floor next to the sofa and looked at her glistening, wet breasts.

"Better than any fucking medal," he murmured, leaning down to lick her right breast.

She gasped as his tongue circled her nipple, licking away every drop of alcohol. Once he had finished cleaning one breast, he moved on to the other while his hand took care of the first.

Her cunt throbbed with every lick of his tongue. As he sucked her skin and nipples, it clenched in anticipation of his hard cock, which was still waiting to be taken care of.

Fuck, he was good. His tongue knew exactly how to caress her breasts, sending showers of desire down to her core.

She wanted to close her legs for some relief, but his large body kept them apart.

He took great care of her breasts. He pinched and sucked her nipples, massaged them with his huge hands, and caressed them with his mouth.

The whiskey had made its way down her body, pooling around her belly button. He moved his mouth to the middle of her chest, kissing and licking his way down to her stomach. All while cleaning the bitter whiskey off her skin.

She wanted to take her arms down and run her hands through his hair, but the strong smell of the liquid reminded her of its taste. Drinking this stuff would probably be worse than any spanking. So her arms stayed up, her legs were spread wide, and she had no way to get any relief as he lit her skin on fire.

He sucked the last drops of whiskey from around her belly button, moving lower and lower until she realised what he was planning to do.

His strong, veiny arms wrapped around her thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders, while his head disappeared between her legs. Her cunt clenched in anticipation. Fuck, this was going to be good.

The first lick of his tongue dragged a loud moan from deep inside her. She'd really needed this attention after focusing on him earlier. He dragged his tongue back and forth over her entire cunt, between her folds, and finally reached her clit. Every hair on her body stood up after that. Her head fell back and her back arched.

The low chuckle he let out made it even better. Not only was it the sexiest sound she had ever heard, the vibration also made her entire cunt pulsate.

His tongue disappeared between her folds and made its way inside her repeatedly. She was going to go insane. The stubble of his beard tickled her sensitive skin as he fucked her with his tongue, and she couldn't keep his head in place because her hands were tied above her head.

This was exquisite torture. She moaned, gasped and moved her hips in time with his tongue. This hot, wet sensation inside her almost made her lose her mind.

After a moment, he moved on from her folds and his lips closed around her clit. He started sucking it, causing her eyes to roll back.

"Oh, fuck," she exclaimed.

She had been eaten out before, but never like this. Her vagina clenched repeatedly and her whole body tensed up. Suddenly, she felt one of his arms let go of her leg. When he used his middle and ring fingers to gather some of her wetness from her folds, she closed her eyes and waited for what was about to come.

Then he entered her while his tongue circled her clit, and all self-restraint left her body. Her hands came down and found their way into his soft, slicked-back hair. She tugged on the strands as his fingers curled inside her and he moaned against her clit.

The vibration only made it worse.

His fingers thrust in and out of her while his mouth worked on her clit. He curled them again and again while her hips met his rhythm. She was a sweaty, gasping mess, unable to keep her body under control. Every inch of her was on fire. The desire in her abdomen was becoming overwhelming and the only things she could feel were his fingers and his mouth.

He licked her, sucked her and fingered her, and it didn't take long before she felt her legs close around his head. She didn't worry about crushing his skull, she just needed to reach the sweet relief after everything his wicked tongue had done to her body.

When she tried to speak, a loud moan came out instead of a coherent sentence. Her body convulsed, her cunt squeezed his fingers, and the heat inside her threatened to take over.

Fuck, she was going to come all over his face and fingers.

No matter how much her body spasmed and tensed, he always held her steady with one arm, allowing his mouth and fingers to continue their work.

Her fingers gripped his hair and her knees tried to press together with his head between them, but he continued to suck and lick her clit.

When her orgasm finally hit, she sat up straight, arched her back and pressed his face into her cunt. He continued to finger her, curling his fingers inside her and fucking her through her orgasm.

The sounds that came out of her mouth were completely incomprehensible. A mixture of moaning, gasping and groaning escaped her lips.

Waves of desire surged through her body. Her vagina pulsated around his fingers, and her muscles continued to twitch and spasm as he kissed the inside of her thigh and allowed her to clench around his fingers.

Her breathing was heavy as she slowly came down from this absolute high. She had experienced many orgasms in her life, but this one was so intense that she would probably still think about it years later.

She lay back down and tried to catch her breath for a moment. Her hands were still in his hair, but they weren't gripping his strands as tightly as before. He lifted her legs off his shoulders and they fell down as if made of jelly.

She imagined how red she must look, exhausted as she was. He didn't seem to care. He drank in every inch of her heaving body. The glistening trails of whiskey, the liquid arousal on her cunt and the light trace of sweat on her forehead. Then his eyes landed on her tied hands.

"What did I tell you about your arms?" He asked.

Fuck. All that self-restraint she had shown at the beginning had flown out of the window as soon as he had gotten his fingers involved.

The smell of whiskey was still in the air, making her stomach turn.

"I really don't want to drink whiskey," she said breathlessly.

He grabbed her wrists and pulled her upright. She hadn't even fully recovered yet. It would take her a moment to get her bearings so that she could do whatever the fuck he wanted now.

"Fine."

Fine?

One of her eyebrows raised. That was not the answer she'd expected. Why had he made all these threats if he wasn't going to go through with them?

Instead of punishing her with the whiskey, he started to take off his clothes. She'd been so focused on herself that she'd forgotten that he was still dressed. But who could blame her? As much as she enjoyed a muscular thigh, she was completely distracted by his arms, shoulders, and chest. It was a good thing she hadn't caught a proper glimpse of his back yet, otherwise she might have broken free and gone completely feral.

Now that he was naked from the waist down too, she had to admit that he was quite a sight. His body was perfect, inch by inch.

He stood in front of the sofa while she sat looking up at him.

She still couldn't believe that her disobedience would go completely unpunished. It hadn't sounded like a joke to him.

She really didn't want to drink the whiskey, but it was probably better than his usual punishments.

Suddenly, he grabbed the whiskey bottle again. She swallowed.

He straightened his cock, held the bottle upside down again, poured the alcohol onto it, and spread it by stroking himself. "Then suck it."

She let out a shaky breath. The carpet between the two sofas was completely soaked in whiskey now. He had absolutely no regard for leaving any traces of their activities behind.

His prick was right in front of her face, twitching and glistening in the brownish liquor. She swallowed again and looked up at him. He was waiting for her to open her mouth wider.

Her lips parted as she watched him staring at her as she took the tip of his cock into her mouth. The bitter taste of whiskey on her tongue made her pull a face, but she didn't turn away. His right hand found its way to the back of her head.

Her tongue swirled around his shaft, licking the alcohol off. Unable to take all of him in her mouth, she pulled her head back, using her tied hands to bend his cock towards his lower body. Then she licked the entire length of his penis and cleaned off every last drop of alcohol. She went around him multiple times with her tongue while he watched her. She sucked the tender skin of the shaft gently and moved up towards the tip again.

"That's right," he breathed. "I'm going to move now."

When his cock was in her mouth again, he thrust his hips forward lightly. He went deeper inside her, almost making her gag. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, but she didn't complain. Her cunt was wet and throbbing. His heavy breathing had an effect on her that she couldn't even describe.

He thrust in again and again. Suddenly, he was fucking her mouth while she gasped for air, trying to breathe through her nose. She swallowed around him, and he let out a hiss. Her tongue tried to match his rhythm, but there was little she could do except take him over and over again.

Then, unexpectedly, he removed his cock from her mouth.

Her cheeks were wet with tears and saliva. She gasped for air, swallowing and relaxing her jaw after what felt like far too long. Her spit ran down her chin, mixing with the last traces of whiskey on her throat and breasts.

"Turn around," he ordered.

Still sitting on the sofa, she was overwhelmed by how fast everything was happening. She turned, but didn't know where to put her limbs. The restraints around her wrists didn't make things any easier.

After a moment, he took her arms and loosened the tie.

"That'll make it easier," he clarified. "Now, get onto your hands and knees. Prop yourself up on the armrest."

She did as she was told. With her hands now free, she could move around without constantly risking falling over. She placed her forearms on the armrest and got on her knees. Her arse was in the air in front of him.

It was difficult to see anything from this position, but she tried to turn her head as far as possible to catch a glimpse of what was happening behind her.

She felt his big hands cupping her bum cheeks and massaging them lightly. From his heavy breathing, she could tell that he was trying very hard to hold back.

"Fuck. It's killing me not to spank this arse," he said, properly grabbing her flesh.

He was so forceful that her body rocked forward slightly. She was already so wet and ready for him that her cunt started clenching involuntarily.

He knew exactly what to say and how to touch her to bring her to this mind-numbing state of arousal. The mere thought of his hand leaving red marks on her arse made her close her eyes, savouring the mental image for a moment longer.

But it couldn't happen. He'd said it before.

"What if they hear?" She asked.

He let out a deep chuckle and released her bum. His hands were still on her cheeks, but much gentler now.

"That was just an excuse to get you to suck my cock again," he confessed.

She didn't know how to respond to that. Should she be flattered? Apparently, her oral skills had saved her from being unable to sit for at least a week.

"But you've been so good. You did so well," he said softly. His fingertips were still caressing her bum. "I'll have to reward you."

Although the thought of being punished excited her, the idea of a reward made her heart beat even faster. Until now, her orgasm had been reward enough, but the promise of something even better sent waves of desire through her entire body.

"And how will you do that?" She challenged.

He leaned over her until his mouth was right next to her ear. His prick grazed her thigh, and her back arched slightly at his hot breath.

"By fucking you so hard that you'll forget the hours of boredom you endured before you came up here," he murmured.

His lips found their way to her neck, kissing her just below her ear.

"That won't be easy," she gasped. Her cunt throbbed a few inches above his cock. "It was so boring without you."

"I'd better try my best then." His voice was low and muffled by her skin. The little kisses almost made her lose her mind.

"No, do your worst," she panted. "Fuck me until I forget everything but your cock."

She needed this. Oblivion. The only thing she wanted to do was to feel. No thinking, no talking, no moving consciously. Just the feeling of his hard cock gliding along her vaginal walls.

"As you wish."

He stood up again and grabbed one of her hips. She felt his wet cock against her pulsating entrance and closed her eyes.

One thrust and he was deep inside her. She let out a loud moan, dug her nails into the velvet upholstery, and waited for the next thrust.

He was long and thick, consuming all her space. She could feel herself stretching around him as she tried to get used to being filled by him. It would definitely take a few thrusts for her cunt to get used to his shape.

With the next snap of his hips, her entire body lurched forwards again. One of his hands was on her arse, soothing her with circular movements.

"Good. Good girl," he said. She couldn't see him, but he sounded as though he was enjoying her body immensely.

His voice was an aphrodisiac to her body. Everything inside her tensed, and he let out an almost painful hiss.

Only when her muscles relaxed again did he carry on moving. He slid his hard, veiny cock back and forth, pushing it inside her again and again. The quiet room was filled with their heavy breathing, the occasional gasp or moan, and the sound of their bodies meeting in the middle.

He glided in and out of her repeatedly. His tip reached so far inside her that she saw stars when he reached her deepest spot. Fuck, it felt so good.

Their bodies kept pushing away from each other and pulling back together like two magnets. He fucked her so well that she could focus only on what was happening to her cunt. His cock kept twitching between her walls, causing her to clench and making him grunt with pleasure.

She felt so full. The feeling was absolutely magnificent. The heat inside her lower body built and built, causing her muscles to spasm again.

At one point, she felt him slow down again and saw out of the corner of her eye that he was reaching for the whiskey bottle. It was almost empty after his thoughtless displays of hedonism. Most of its contents were now on the sofa upholstery and rug.

Still, she heard him take a swig while fucking her from behind. She didn't know why she found that so arousing, but when she felt him put the bottle down on her arse while his cock glided in and out of her, she almost lost her mind.

It was probably deeply psychological. She took pleasure in being used. But she didn't care. Her vagina was filled to the brim and throbbed while his prick aroused her more and more.

After a few more thrusts, he took another sip and continued to use her bum as a tray. The bottle was only gone after the next sip. All his focus was on her and her arse again. His hands wandered from her hips to her bum, gripping the flesh again. He spread her cheeks and started pumping into her even harder.

She couldn't take much more of this. Her cunt was pulsating around his cock, clenching and unclenching as he fucked her into sweet oblivion.

"Leon," she gasped. "Touch me."

His hands left her bottom and moved up her back. His thrusts were slower now, but still so deep that her body shook with every snap of his hips. At the height of her ribcage, his fingers moved softly down her breasts. Her entire body shuddered. When he reached her sensitive nipples, he circled them slowly with his thumbs and kissed her back gently. It felt even better with his cock inside her.

Then, suddenly, he pinched her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. At first, she didn't think much of it besides how good it felt, but then the pressure of his fingers increased and he pulled them downwards.

The moan she let out was almost a scream. Her breasts were already sensitive, but having him pull on her nipples shot a bolt of pain straight to her core.

Now she understood the whole 'pain is pleasure' bullshit. She was about to come from that alone.

His only response to her pain was a muffled "Shhh". He knew exactly what he was doing.

Using his fingers, he played with her nipples some more before slowly moving them down her breasts and sliding them over her stomach until he finally reached her lower body. All the while, he was fucking her from behind.

The overload of sensations made her arms weak. If this went on for much longer, she wouldn't be able to support her body weight on her underarms anymore. He seemed to have more stamina than a fucking Olympian.

She lowered her head onto the armrest and relaxed her arms. The angle of his penetration had changed slightly, which altered the sensation of his cock rubbing against her walls.

"Fuck," he breathed. Her arse was arched even further in the air now, giving him a different view.

His fingers found their way to her clit as he picked up the pace again. Her moans were muffled by the velvet, but the sound of their bodies clapping together grew louder and louder.

The pressure on her clit made her cunt pulsate even harder. Her legs tensed and spasmed, and her breathing became erratic.

He circled her clit tenderly with his fingers while his cock slid in and out of her. The wet sounds were the ultimate proof of how aroused she was.

Her body was a complete mess. Not only were her legs shaking from exhaustion, but her next climax was also on the horizon. He was just so good at everything he did.

His thumb stimulated her clit, rubbing, circling and lightly ghosting over it. At the same time, he thrust into her from behind, filling her up and hitting her G-spot.

She kept clenching around his cock, making him gasp for air repeatedly. While one hand was busy with her clit, the other dug into her hip with each thrust. She knew he was close to coming when she felt his cock start to throb inside her. It twitched as he grunted and thrust his hips forward.

The heat surged through her entire body, over and over again. Desire pooled in her lower body as the pressure on her clit and his cock rubbing against her walls sent shivers down her spine.

At some point, she lost all sense of time and place. The only things that mattered were the feeling of his prick inside her and his fingers on her clit. She grunted and moaned into the upholstery, arching her back as she felt her body begin to spasm.

He kept fucking her hard and deep. Her body rocked back and forth in time with him, while the heat became almost unbearable.

"So good. You're almost there," he said.

She felt the orgasm wash over her with his next deep thrust. Her whole body tensed, her cunt clenching and pulsating around his hard cock. She moaned and gasped as everything inside her caught fire.

Behind her, he was breathing heavily, trying to make her climax last as long as possible. His cock was still sliding in and out of her, but much more slowly, so as not to overwhelm her while her body rode this absolute high.

Her walls clasped tightly around his cock as her body twitched. Waves of heat washed over her until she slowly calmed down, leaving her utterly exhausted.

He continued to thrust until she was no longer making a sound and was just breathing.

"Turn around," he said.

She barely had the strength to move, but when he pulled out and left her feeling empty, she wanted nothing more than to see what was happening. Despite all her efforts, he still hadn't come. Goodness gracious, he had some serious self-control.

Her legs were so weak that she rolled onto her back on the sofa before slowly sitting up in front of him. Looking up, she saw him stroking his cock, still glistening with her wetness, and felt tired but satisfied.

"Almost done, love," he told her. His free hand lightly grazed her temple and cheek, then stayed behind her neck. "Open your mouth. One last time."

Dutifully, she opened her mouth wide, stuck out her tongue and waited for him to begin. He stroked himself a few more times while looking her deep in the eyes. It was probably the exhausted, fucked-up state she was in that mesmerised him.

As he neared his own orgasm, he placed his cock on her tongue and thrust into her mouth a few times before a warm, slightly salty liquid poured onto her tongue and down her throat. She swallowed obediently around his cock, making him grunt and gasp.

She was a little numb to everything around her. It was as if she were experiencing her life from outside her body. Every part of her felt sore and achy, but this overwhelming sense of blissful nothingness completely calmed her down. It was nothing like the almost panicked feeling of being caged that she had felt when she first opened the doors to this room.

Once he had removed his cock from her mouth, he searched for a handkerchief while putting on his trousers, and wiped his prick clean. He then knelt in front of the couch and cleaned her inner thighs and the rest of her lower body. He folded the soiled fabric and moved upwards with the clean side to get the last drops of whiskey on her breasts and stomach.

"You did so well," he said, cleaning her.

A contented smile spread across her face.

"There's something else I want to hear," she reminded him.

He let out a low chuckle as he got up. He put the handkerchief back in his pocket and turned towards her. She looked at him with big, expectant eyes. He leaned down and kissed her on the left cheek. Then her right cheek. He then moved further back to her ear and whispered, "Good girl."

She watched him get dressed, giving him her biggest, most satisfied smile despite her exhaustion. The thought of the party going on quietly below them almost made her want to fall down the stairs, but she was far too happy to let anything ruin her mood.

"I think I'll save the world again just to have another party in my honour," he said, putting on his white shirt. Fortunately for him, he was half insane and had neatly put it down after taking it off earlier. There wasn't a wrinkle in the fabric.

"Maybe Mr. Wang will suck your cock next time," she challenged.

He raised his eyebrows at her, but she just gave him a wicked little grin as she gathered up her clothes.

Her outfit was a different story altogether. The sticky bra was uncomfortable on her sore nipples, her legs were so weak that she could barely stand in her high heels, the dress had a few drops of whiskey on it, and she was a pair of knickers short. All in all, she was a complete mess. She didn't even want to know what her face and hair looked like. Every inch of her body probably showed that he'd just fucked her so well that she couldn't even be angry with him for the state he'd put her in.

She was almost out of the door, in dire need of a mirror and a bathroom, when he turned towards her once more.

"By the way, I don't think I caught your name." He was fully dressed and proper now. There was absolutely no sign of their earlier activities, or of the fact that he'd almost downed an entire bottle of whiskey—though a third of it was probably on the sofa and the rug.

"It's not that important, is it?" She asked teasingly, already holding the door handle. "After all, I didn't save the world, did I, Mr. Kennedy?"

She heard him chuckle as she was about to close the door behind her. "Story of my life."