Diamonds
Disclaimer: The Resident Evil franchise and its characters belong to CAPCOM
Author's Notes: I errr gravitate to Wesker as a male lead for some reason. But it doesn't mean I have no love for the protagonists and I think it's time I write for Chris. He's just so left out in my stories :(
And with that, let's all have some Valenfield angst~
Blue and green lines. Plain and straight. The additional black and white splashes of color created an image of a boy. Chris couldn't see the meaning of the painting displayed above the king size bed. Nor could he see the appeal of it. The junior suite's decor was supposed to be a mix of tradition and modernity. No wonder the artworks lacked creativity.
He shifted on the recliner as his eyes fell on the sleeping figure on the mattress. Dark brown hair splayed on the white sheets. Deep breaths teased the creased linens. Jill had not changed out of her clothes, too tired from the flight... and the endless battles in her mind.
Over a month had passed since the incident that involved the Paraguas cruise liners. The Federal Bioterrorism Commission was no more, its generous resources now in their hands. B.S.A.A. still lacked an official director after O'Brian stepped down. The ongoing reorganization was a mess but they would manage like they always did.
His partner woke up with a soft moan, limbs stretching out like a cat. She was lying on the bed diagonally with her head close to the edge. She slowly blinked at him, looking confused and beautiful.
"What time is it?" She almost sounded annoyed, like it was his fault her sleep had ended.
"Half past eight." He replied and snatched the bottle of sparkling water provided by the hotel. She sat up on the bed, looking at him with irritation as he drank.
"I'm hungry... more like starving. You should have woken me up."
"You have no idea how many times I've read the restaurant's menu while you were sleeping. I almost left you here to enjoy the six-course gourmet on my own." A pointed look followed by a small smile. He watched her shake her head at him, her deft fingers working out the tangles on her hair.
His mind conjured up imagery of her nine years past. Bob haircut. Blue beret. Attractive and young.
The room's lighting was harsh, showing the exhaustion on her face and the paleness of her complexion.
He still found her glowing.
"Grilled pigeon or smoked eel?" She made a face at both choices.
"Like you'd eat them." —was her accusation.
"Venison roast it is then." Her eyes were still on the menu, studying it. She had thrown on a simple and drapey dress that barely brushed her knees. Vermilion in color just like her radio call sign. At work, she told him that everyone knew her favorite hue was blue, so she wanted her code name to be its opposite. In bed, she told him it was vermilion because it was red and him.
He watched her shrug her hair over her shoulders. She couldn't find her ties so now her tresses tickled the skin of her chest, slipping into the low v neckline. The smoothness of her arms peeked through the slashed long sleeves of her clothes. He swallowed, averting his gaze.
"Crispy veal and salad for me." —was her answer.
He found himself bothered by a different kind of hunger.
Their hands almost holding, he led her to one of the outdoor pools and made a beeline for the bar.
"Champagne or cocktails?" He asked.
"How about shots?" Her hand grasped his, fingers easily locking.
And a smile stretched on his face.
They occupied two deckchairs and lined the glasses of liqueur on a table.
Each shot was sharp and scalding.
She was smiling.
And they were almost young again.
Back now in their room, he headed for the bath.
She stepped in front of him, slight frame blocking the doorway. Her hands were on the knotty ribbon of her dress, undoing... unlocking.
"Shower later." Her tone was commanding. He outranked her. But he submitted to her demand all the same. One of his arms slid around her curved waist, pulling her close. She tried to kiss him, rising on her tiptoes to reach his mouth. But he picked her off of the floor. Her legs wrapped around his waist as her arms anchored themselves around his shoulders.
Her lips tasted bitter from the alcohol they had taken.
So he sought for the sweetness right beneath them.
The tie was troublesome.
The fabric ripped as they both forcefully slip her arms out of the loose neckline. Her breasts freed from the confines of her dress. His mouth closed around one peak, nipping until it pebbled against his tongue.
She was making those noises. Soft and suppressed as he suckled, making him hard and leak.
He laid her down on the stark white mattress.
Pushing himself up on his arms, he looked at her. Her lips kissed and bitten. Her breasts round and swollen.
Her legs were obscenely spread and he found her bare and wet. She reached for him, biting down on her lip as her fingers unbuckled his belt and undid his zip. He caught her hands and slid down on his knees on the carpeted floor.
"Chris." She gasped and grabbed his hair and he wasn't even there yet.
He split her open with his tongue, tip dipping in her opening and lapping up to press on her clit.
She was never loud.
And all of her low whimpers and composed moans drove him mad. Her hold on him was strong and almost painful as he steadily laved her cunt.
He would never get tired of her taste.
Jill lost her balance.
And they both laughed at the clumsiness caused by her haste to get him out of his pants.
He was heavy in her hands. So hot as she stroked him. Her fingers could hardly close around his girth. Her mouth fell open in anticipation as she felt liquid heat escaped her nether lips. She was so slick already... She could just climb on his lap and ride him.
But it had been a while.
Her mouth watered for his cock.
She bent down and took him in. Lips closing around the engorged head, sucking and licking. She couldn't take him all the way down her throat. Her hands always had to aid her. Her tongue traced along the angry veins... soothed the sensitive underside... and teased the weeping slit.
He was panting beneath her. Fingers tearing the sheets. Muscles rippling in pleasured shudders.
She wanted his release on her lips, warm on her tongue, and thick down her throat.
He was close. She could tell.
Her efforts turned eager.
And at the precipice...
He pulled her off of him.
One of his hands locked under her jaw, dragging her to meet his mouth. The other wrapped around himself at the base—tight and punishing—stopping himself from coming.
He growled against her lips, needy and wanting. His fingers were suddenly on her, parting her folds and diving in her depths.
Her startled cry was swallowed by him.
His movements were hurried and focused... too focused on making her gush on his hand.
It was impossible not to.
She braced herself on the pillows, fingers curling on the cases. He positioned himself in between her legs. Her mind could remember a time when she didn't have to spread herself so wide to accommodate him.
The head of his cock pushed in, that popping sensation always made her feel like a virgin.
The first thrust tore into her slowly but surely.
"Chris... Chris..." She couldn't say anything else besides his name. It almost sounded like praying... hoping that she would be able to take him... all of him inside.
His hands held on her hips as he eased himself deeper... and deeper.
The stretch was overwhelming.
"Jill." His voice was pained as he sheathed the entirety of his cock into her. His body fell to cover hers, eliminating all spaces in between them. She let go of the sheets in favor of clinging on his sturdy form as he began to rut.
Each thrust left her breathless.
So she sought his mouth to breathe.
His seed seared into her, making her body shiver with each rush.
His weight grounded her but she welcomed his warmth.
As the high subsided and their sweat cooled each other's skin, he intended to unburden her.
But she kept him against her... deep inside of her... fused with her.
"Stay inside." She whispered in his ear and he groaned in response. They could feel him pulse... still hard... and brimming with desire. She urged him to it, fingers threading on his hair, lips mapping kisses over his shoulder, body rocking gently against his.
"I thought I lost you..." She had gone aboard that ghost ship to search for him.
But he had gone ahead and found her instead.
She had always been the one in need of a hand... of rescue... of saving...
Who would do it for him?
His fingers played with her tresses as she tried to sleep.
It was a lost cause with him inside of her... stirring her arousal. Her legs shifted slightly under the blankets, seeking for a more comfortable position on top of him.
"What time is it?" She murmured on his chest, breath moist and warm.
"Half past four." He fastened the tie around the end of her hair, just in time for her to look up at him.
"Did you... braid my hair?" She tightened around him and all he could do was roll her beneath him... again.
Her body arched to mold with his, pliant and so supple.
His thrusts were almost desperate... like he was trying to carve himself into her.
It had been a mistake to change partners.
They had always been together... like earth and water.
The moment distance came in between them.
—The world just crumbled.
Rest was forgotten.
The Mediterranean greeted them after a fifteen minute drive from their lodging.
Jill got rid of her sandals to soak her feet in the cold water. The breeze was chilling on his skin and it lifted the flared sleeves of her green dress, catching his attention. Her fingers ran over the crooked braid. He walked over to her, hand reaching out to pull the tie off of her locks.
He unraveled the dark strands, captivated by the waves on them. She had always worn her hair in a low ponytail. And he had long discovered that he was simply allured all the more by her whenever it was not.
Her eyes matched the shade of the most shallow parts of the sea.
She turned her face to watch the rising sun.
"I love you." Sudden and out of the blue.
He pressed his lips against her temple. "I don't say it often enough." His voice was so gruff he feared she didn't hear him with the waves crashing around them.
But there was a smile on her face, almost shy, that made her look years younger.
She returned his words with a kiss.
She had always been a quiet one.
And the velvet box in his pocket was like a bomb waiting to explode.
"He's still out there." There was concern in her features. He thought for a second she was talking about Parker. It wounded her deeply that her partner didn't survive the Queen Zenobia with them. But she wasn't talking about the special operations agent they had lost.
She was talking about him.
The reason why he couldn't take the box out and get on one knee before her.
She was talking about Wesker.
The reason why he couldn't give everything up and just be with her.
"We'll get him." And as if on cue, his phone rang, disrupting the peace they had.
He had taken the call and listened to the person on the other line.
Parker Luciani had been found in the Republic of Malta, alive and recovering.
The sun's rays warmed their surroundings.
Her eyes shined along with the fine sand.
Reflecting light like diamonds...
Her beauty had been blinding in its simplicity.
That was a year ago at some beach in Montpellier.
And Jill was gone.
The ring was now useless so he'd it thrown away. She hadn't even seen it... accept it... wear it...
All because he was afraid to take that leap.
Diamonds might be blinding in their beauty. But they were also the hardest and sharpest gems in the world. They could cut you. Grind you down. Smash and slice you apart.
Love didn't cease to exist with the person's death.
It stayed and all he could do was suffer.
The earth quaked and dried without the water.
Author's Notes: As always, thank you for reading! Reviews will be greatly appreciated~ :D