It had been hours, and Claire still felt shaken. The pound and rush of the hot water did nothing to sooth away the tingle at her wrist. She wrapped her own hand around her wrist, lining her fingers up where his had been, and felt annoyed with herself. What was wrong with her?

She shut the water off with an abrupt flick, and stepped out of the shower. She wrapped her hair up in a towel and pulled on a thick white robe, looping the belt once and tugging it tight. Her hand reached out for the door latch and that's when she caught the scent. The sound of acoustic guitar accented the sudden flutter in her stomach.

She flung the door open and stormed into the living room. She saw him, standing at her stereo, flipping through one of the cd cases. She recognized the song flowing from the player as Chasing the Dragon, as Simone Simons' voice began to croon.

(Free my mind. Heal my scars. Erase the past....)

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

He didn't look up right away, instead flipping another of the leaf in the case. "You have a varied taste in music, Ms. Redfield."

Her hands balled into fists, and she crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn't in the mood to dance around like this. "You broke in my room to spy on what I listen to?"

His head turned toward her slowly, and there was the slightest smirk on his lips. It was aggravating. "You cannot lock your door without the master key," his body followed the slow turn of his head, and Claire found herself faced with his full attention. "So technically speaking, your door was open, and that is -What is the saying? Like a welcome invitation."

"You live to be aggravating, don't you." It wasn't a question, and Claire could feel her cheeks flushing with her rising animosity. She closed her eyes and let out a breath. He was trying to push her buttons, for whatever reasoning, but she didn't have to rise the occasion. Lifting a hand she pulled off the towel around her head, letting her wet hair fall in a damp tangle around her shoulders. She tossed the towel over the back of the couch and sat a hip on the arm rest. "So what do you want?"

He moved when she moved, adopting similar postures. He leaned back against the entertainment center, crossing his arms. He looked as causal as she'd ever seen him, despite the severe black on black he continuously wore. "I wanted to as you some questions." She quirked a brow and he clarified. "About your mental state."

"So you're taking over for the psychologist now too?"

He ignored her sass, pushing forward with his own agenda. "I'm curious about your dual-mental state. You haven't manifested a second personality since your arrival."

"What would you like me to say? I don't know why it hasn't happened again, so if you're looking for an answer on the 'why', I'm really not the one to talk to."

"Ah and there's the trouble," He moved away from the stereo and came toward her, his movements slow and stalking. "The one I should be talking to is conspicuously gone, and that leaves only you here, Claire."

He'd stopped right in front of her, incredibly close in front of her. Her outstretched leg was between his. She could feel the vague touch of his breathing against her cheek, as he looked down at her. He was purposefully invading her personal space, and she wanted to move. But she also didn't want to lose what little ground she felt she had. She sat still, trying not give away that her heart had just started racing.

"I don't know what you're hoping for." Claire was glad to hear she sounded more steady that she felt. Was it getting hotter in there? "She doesn't leave mental notes floating around in my head."

"But you've described a dual state of mind, at times. You must have some idea of what her motivation is. It could mean the difference between her dominance and yours. What is she after?"

Claire shook her head and looked away from him. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, she felt them. And his gaze, combined with the way his scent wrapped around her, was unnerving "It's never clear. She's looking for something she needs. I don't know what it is."

(Poison is slowly, seeping my veins...)

She felt his fingers take hold of her chin, light but firm, and turned her head back to him. And she felt like she was suddenly burning up inside. All her nerves were so suddenly alert and very aware that he was touching her. His voice was lower it seemed now, when he spoke. "And what do you want?"

"I...I don't know." She couldn't really breath.

"I don't believe that, Claire."

She stood up abruptly, not thinking of how it would bring them to the point of almost touching. She was shaky and frightened, and didn't care. "I don't care what you believe." She turned intending to slide away from him, get some space. But he grabbed her arm.

She reacted on instinct, moving with the practiced motions of her chosen martial art. The arm he held arced up, circled around the outside of his arm, coming up underneath. And she pushed. She didn't wait to see how far he would move back. She turned her back and practically ran.

He caught her by the shoulders. Turning her and shoving her up against the wall. Her hands came up automatically, but he gave her a warning squeeze, and she merely rested them on his forearms. "Answer the question. What do you want, Claire? Right here, right now."

(The Dragon is wreaking havoc in my brain...)

She felt like she was panicking, her mind totally overwhelmed. And it was him who overwhelmed her; his scent, his skin, his presence threatened to drown her. She couldn't breath anything but him. She couldn't see anything but him. In this moment, he was all there was, no matter what the reason. And she knew the answer he wanted, and the one she wanted to give. Her stomach fluttered and she licked her lips. Her mind reeled but her instincts were passed the point of no return, and they both knew it. Her voice was low and husky and sounded strange to her own ears. But still her answer came out.

(....give up the fight here...)

"You."

It was like a flood gate opening. His mouth was on hers, demanding and ravaging. His skin was, surprisingly, as hot as her own. And her response was just as fervent. It was like they were trying to devour one another.

She made a muffled yelp feeling a sharp pain, and he pulled back harshly, his face in a wince. He'd bitten her lip, hard enough to draw blood, and it had singed him. They stared at each other for a heartbeat. Then Claire sucked her lip into her mouth, letting it out slowly, the wound healed. He growled lowly and was back on her mouth with renewed urgency.

They attacked each other with fiercely searching hands. His ripped open the tie of her robe, the soft white fabric falling open to frame her nakedness. At the same time, her fingers sought the throat of his shirt and tore. The fabric split down the center. Their hands simultaneously plunged inside fabric in search of flesh.

Wesker released her suddenly, but only briefly. He tore the scraps of his shirt from his arms, and reached for her. Instinctively, Claire's hands went for his shoulders as he lifted her by the waist. She wrapped her legs around him as he freed himself. And when he plunged inside her, she gasped for air.

He moved with unrestrained power, rocking them both hard enough that Claire's head bounced off of the wall, before she lifted her head enough to look into his face. She snarled at what she saw. Or rather, what she couldn't see.

(Don't you deny that we're all human beings. We all have our flaws that can make us obscene.)

Her hand came up and tore the dark glasses away. His red-gold eyes, like a reptile, like the dragon, met hers clearly at last, and she felt herself smile. Those eyes of his flicked down to her mouth and he crushed himself to her, devouring that smile.

Holding together as close as their bodies would allow, they rutted. There were no civilized words, no human definition here. They're mating was all force, struggling, competition, yet in sync. Grunting, panting and primal.

When Claire hit her climax her legs constricted tightly around him, and vaguely she felt his knees buckle. Their bodies collapsed roughly to the floor, but did nothing to phase them. While her body reeled, she could feel him, pounding as if to bruise, and then that one final thrust.

Panting and sweating, her eyes refocused. Her back rested against the wall, and Wesker rested in the valley of her breasts. They stayed like that for long moment, then he sat up. Her legs still around his waist, her body arched, displayed. And they're eyes met and locked.

(...don't deny your fears. So let them go, and fade into light. Give up the fight.)

A/N: I'm sorry if this seemed like it suddenly became a songfic, but I found Chasing the Dragon and knew it had to be the back drop for this scene. To avoid the overabundance of song lines I tried to just plug in markers of what line was playing at what time, skipping to the most useful parts. I did want to give more of Wesker's perspective, but I also wanted to keep pace with the song, (I did my best to write the scene so you could realistically play the song in the background), so maybe we'll save that for the next chapter.