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Remember: everything Leon S. Kennedy says is made up.
Leons favorite position was undoubtedly being ridden, especially when he watched how their face would contort and how simple, strangled moans would escape their pretty throat. He hadn't expected you of all people to bounce on his cock like some willing whore; he certainly didn't mind it though. It wasn't like he hadn't had fantasized about them, how'd they look with him buried in their walls, once or twice.
With a gentle yet firm hand resting on their hip, his desperate blues met their own hazy gaze. "You're not half bad," Leon said, voice a husky murmur. A small groan left his lips as he felt their hips sink down onto him again. "Good view, too."
NSFW