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It's one of Leon's rare days off, and so the two of you spend it lying naked in the rumpled sheets of the honeymoon suite in some foreign luxury hotel.
You'd completed your goal of fucking his brains out on every surface of the room you could manage, so now all there is to do is lay on your side and feed him chocolate covered strawberries from the bowl that rests between you, making him suck the chocolate coating off before you let him have it. No hands, of course.
You'd wanted to treat your baby to something nice, a little luxury to call your own before reality sets back in. Your current profession came with more than a few drawbacks, one of which being that you'd killed in hotel rooms before, and thus shattered the illusion of safety, of anonymity. You always knew exactly how unsafe you were at any given time.
But, you'd wanted to spoil him. And this room was as isolated as it got.
Not that you're entirely the good samaritan, though. Your boy was loud.
You twirl a strawberry stem between your fingers absently. He looked thoroughly ravished, lips puffy, cheeks flushed, eyes still red from his tears, his collarbone and nipples covered in your hickeys and bites. In a way that made you want to parade him around like a piece of fine art, the picture definition of bliss.
But you were far too selfish for that.
You knew what they thought, when they saw him checking in, the women that press their chests into his view and flirt while he just stands there all awkwardly confused, the men who sidle up with a convenient hand at the small of his back, it's cute, like he doesn't realize your name isn't actually printed across his forehead, marking him as yours for all to see. You hope they all heard his begging through the wall.
It's a dangerous line of thought, this.
You want him to be yours. You want him to belong to you, for everyone to see. Not so brazenly as a collar, no.
More like... a ring. Around his finger, to keep them all away. To catch the light while he begs for your cock, something concrete to prove to yourself this isn't some wondrous dream of a soldier long dead.
Fuck, you think.
"..baby?" Leon's asking, and you realize you've been staring off into space, twirling the stem between your fingers for who knows how long.
You lean in to press your lips to his in silent apology, breathing in the little gasp he always lets out into your mouth. The berry drops back into the bowl.
"Baby, ah-" he speaks as you move away from his mouth to kiss his face, his jaw, his neck just below the ear. "Don't drift off like that. This is- mnh- special for us."
His hands cup your face to bring you back to face him. Looking down at his face, his hair in disarray from your fingers, his skin flush with your adoration.
"Focus on me." he says, blown blue eyes on you, and Fuck, you'll never be able to quit him, does he even know what he's done?
"I can't think of anything else," you confess into the seam of his lips, and he pulls you closer. You slide your knee under his, to hook his leg over yours, your cock brushing against the sensitive shape of him through the tangled sheets.
God, you want to marry him, no witnesses, no church, just plenty of devotion.
The amount of want you feel is terrifying. You've never wanted so much, never been worth anything, never had anything to offer. How can the touch of a man offer more absolution than God? How is it that you can only live with yourself when he's lying next to you?
He grinds up against you, and it catches you off guard enough that you break from his mouth to make a soft noise of pleasure. You can't hesitate, the years of training hard won prohibit you from the luxury of it, and so you take that fear and turn it into action.
Still slick from the earlier rounds, his soft hole sucks you in easily, eagerly, but you go slow all the same just to hear the broken little sounds he makes, to watch his hips buck, trying to get more of you, of this cock he loves.
His nails drag down your shoulders as you slide all the way in, nothing more to give. You move.
"Have I ruined you?" You ask into his ear, husky, because Christ if he hasn't ruined you, and you thrust sharply into him just to hear that high sound, "Have I ruined you for anyone else?"
You wish you could go a day without being so fucking scared, that he'll grow out of that damned hero worship and realize you're too broken. That he could do better. You feel this ache inside you to bind him to you, not because of who you are, but because no one else will satisfy him. That way, he'll always come back.
His legs have wrapped around your hips tight as his oversensitive body can manage, he's nodding, nothing but moans and "yes" and "please" and "more" leaving his lips.
It satisfies some part of you, the part that's always afraid. But-
You suck a harsh mark into his neck, at the sensitive spot below his ear. "Are you mine?" you ask, "Do you belong to me?"
"yes, oh- yours, yours, please- ah- yours,"
You smile, push his bangs back from his forehead, kiss his brow with a whispered "yours" on your tongue.
You lift yourself up, no longer crowding him into the bed with your body, and he makes a noise of dismay. You take his desperate hands from your body, the curve of your spine and your hip, kiss them on the knuckles, the palm, and wind your own fingers through his as you pin him to the bed.
"Baby," you say, softer. Kinder. Vulnerable as you've ever been. You'll give him everything, no matter what he says. He owns you, after all, body and soul. "Baby, look at me."
You slow your thrusts to a gentle pace, slow and deep in a way that makes his lashes flutter. Teary eyed, he looks up at you, and he's beautiful.
"Will you be mine, baby?" you ask, quiet. "Will you marry me?"
And all of a sudden the air is choked from you because your boy has tightened around you like a vice, and you only realize why when you see the arch of his spine, feel his come slick between you.
And then he's on top of you, hands still entwined, riding the absolute hell out of you, until even someone as quiet in bed as you cant help but make noise. He drinks it all in directly from the source, driving himself back onto your cock again and again until you can do nothing but moan a strangled noise into his mouth and come inside him, another load of many.
He rises from you, looking down at you beneath him, hazy light a makeshift halo around his hair. He looks- he looks-
"Yes," he says. "yes."