Sunlight was still leaking through the window when Claire's eyelids fluttered open. Of course, 19 hours of sun, she reminded herself. The sun couldn't be used as an indicator for what time of day it was, at least not now. She rolled onto her back and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before staring up at the ceiling. The vast span of whiteness above her was a bit disorienting; there wasn't a single crack to be seen or speck of dust blemishing it's surface, and once again she became lost in thought, taking a mental inventory.
Some new developments were that she had caused irreparable damage to her relationship with Chris. Regardless of what came next, she couldn't take back the new memory he would always have of her. She was sure that Leon likely shared the same sentiments, but he had always been just a little more subjective than Chris.
She had to assume that her career with TerraSave was over. If not for breaking protocol preceding the shitstorm that took place on the island, then for being seen willingly taking off with Wesker. Him.
There was only one option she could think of that might help her friends to understand that she wasn't working against them, but even that wouldn't be enough for Chris to look her in the eyes again, she was sure. If she could get her hands on something to put in front of TerraSave or the BSAA, something helpful...that could be enough to demonstrate her innocence. She was having a hard time even considering this as a viable option, though. Likely success rates being low aside, it would involve breaking whatever tenuous trust she had with Wesker. And in a bizarre turn of events, it felt like he was the only one in her corner right now. Plus, he had made it very clear that she'd be pining for the fjords if she got into something she shouldn't.
It felt odd, just existing with nothing being expected of her by anybody. It was frighteningly freeing. She couldn't remember the last time she had had a good sleep, or gone to sleep without having to worry about when she woke up. Hell, she didn't even know what time it was now.
She slipped out of bed, still wearing the change of clothes she had put on earlier. She'd lazily been lying on top of all the blankets, and she tugged at the them now until the bed looked almost like it had before she laid down. After adjusting her bra that was just a little too small, she remembered that her clothes were still in the dryer, and went to retrieve them.
Opening the door into the hallway, she heard a sound coming from the entryway. Treading lightly down the hall, she could see Wesker facing the front door with his back to her.
"You don't sleep, do you?" Claire said, announcing her presence as she paused at the end of the hall. He made no move to turn around, appeared to be fidgeting with something next to the door.
"A waste of time," he said to the door, a non answer. "I'd say you must have something better to do yourself, but we both know that's not the case." Ouch. Turning around, he beckoned her over with a hand. She narrowed her eyes and walked forward as he extended a blue card to her between two fingers.
"This card will allow you to go outside." Claire looked over his shoulder and saw a card reader that she didn't remember being there before. When she reached her hand up to take the card, he flicked it back into his own. She studied his stern expression quizzically. "I will receive a notification any time you depart, and each time you return. There are no other manmade structures within walking distance. I will know where you are at all times, and have the means to retrieve you should I deem it necessary." He extended the card to her again, and this time allowed her to take it.
"Worried I'm going to run away?" she prodded. She wasn't sure how exactly he was going to know where she was at all times, but she believed it. That didn't concern her at the moment, though. She'd also been paying attention to the surrounding area as they approached from above, and was pretty sure Wesker was right about there not being anything nearby. It was nice that she wasn't going to have to stay shut in, though.
"No," he responded curtly before stalking back over and through the door she wasn't allowed through. She wondered if he could feel her eyes on him as he left.
-RMBLE- . Her stomach rumbled, disrupting her thoughts and reminding her that she hadn't eaten in a while. In the kitchen she was glad to find a frying pan in one of the cabinets, and eggs in the fridge. Having mastered the art of scrambled eggs during her time as a college student out of necessity for feeding herself, they had become her go-to comfort food. Once she had eaten and washed her dishes, she noticed a small silver laptop sitting on the coffee table on her way through the sitting room. Claire walked over and took a seat on the leather sofa in front of where it sat.
She couldn't imagine her cohabitant was sloppy enough to leave his work laying around, but also didn't think that he'd like the idea of her being able to access the internet unmonitored. She glanced up at the closest camera prior to flipping the laptop open and powering it on. It wasn't password protected, and she was shocked to see that the device was in fact connected to the internet. Opening up a web browser page, she tried going to her email but instead of seeing the usual sign in prompt there was an error page that said "Oops, something went wrong. Please try again later." Trying a couple of different email domains yielded the same results. Claire sighed. She was reminded of the scene in Jurassic Park where Samuel L Jackson was trying to gain access to the main frame, only to be greeted by a repeated taunt of "Ah ah ah, you didn't say the magic word." Maybe I should try something different.
She typed in the BSAA's web address, a site the organization used to post alerts and news. BINGO! This page loaded, and her jaw dropped when she caught sight of the headline that loaded at the top of the page. "Breaking News: TerraSave Supporting Bioweaponry." Her hand trembled as she clicked on the headline, and a video started to play. She recognized the man speaking as one of the BSAA's spokespeople, and he wore a solemn expression.
"The news that none of us wanted to hear. Those who are supposed to be looking out for us are working in the shadows to support the work that they have publicly condemned. Previously, we reported on a suspected biohazard outbreak in the South Atlantic Sea that has been linked back to a private company whose name is currently being withheld. We are now bringing you the news that BSAA official Christopher Redfield has confirmed that a TerraSave representative has been witnessed aiding and abetting a known terrorist on the island shortly before it went up in flame. Additionally, it was confirmed that the director of TerraSave, who has now been missing for several months, has been implicated in this new disaster. TerraSave has been ordered to cease and desist all operations, and is being investigated on acts of terrorism by the UN." Claire slammed the laptop shut so hard she thought she might have shattered the screen, but that didn't matter. She couldn't bear to hear another word right now, had needed to stop hearing the news person's voice.
It felt like she had been failed. They hadn't said her name, but the video confirmed her fears. She was being investigated as a criminal right now, and Chris had already filed a report on her. She shouldn't have been surprised, knowing how seriously Chris took his job and how betrayed he must have felt; it still felt like somebody had punched her in the gut. And the director of TerraSave is involved somehow? That can't be right, either.
Wesker had to have known about the news, probably even before it was posted. Had he wanted her to see this? That her brother had her lumped in with his enemies, that the organization she'd shed blood, sweat, and tears for was now being considered a potential terrorist group? She realized she had been sitting there in silence for a long time when she felt her nails bite into the skin of her palms, fists having been clenched so hard that she'd almost broken skin. She was not about to have a breakdown in front of all those cameras. Leaving the offending laptop on the coffee table where she had found it, she stormed back to her room where she crawled onto the bed before curling into fetal position and sobbing into her knees. This didn't just hurt; it felt like grieving something lost.
As Wesker worked, his eyes flicked up to the video feed every so often between tasks. He was able to see the changes on the redhead's face as she sat in front of the silver laptop he'd left out for her, before she sat in silence and then hurried to her room, shutting herself in.
Sooner or later, she would have been curious about what information was out there. He decided he'd rather not have her nosing around to dig up what he could easily put in front of her; it was more convenient that he rip the band-aid off now. What hadn't been publicized, and what he didn't intend to share, was that there was a conflicting report from a government agent that there had been a TerraSave representative taken against her will. Wesker had been very annoyed when he'd read that message from his informant, though it was of no consequence. The gall.
To give her mind something to focus on, once Claire forced the tears to stop she decided that she was going to take a bath while planning a venture outside. She'd need to dress warmly, and remember sunscreen. As she soaked though, she couldn't get that video out of her mind. She wondered if there was any more news about what had happened, and mentally kicked herself for leaving it on the coffee table.
Not being able to get the obsessive thought out of her head, she pulled the plug on the bath. She dried off and hurriedly put back on the same clothes, her still damp hair darkening the green fabric of the back of her shirt.
Back in the sitting room, she half expected the screen to be fragmented, but it opened right back up to the same video she had been watching earlier. There was an audio transcript of the video in plain text below it, and she found herself unable to stop reading the words she had heard earlier. Claire sat back down on the leather sofa. She was so focused on the content of the screen that she didn't notice when the nearby door opened and Wesker sauntered across the floor to the entryway. It was the sound of the entrance door shutting that startled her back into her surroundings, and it was followed by male voices. Still seated, she leaned over to see what was going on.
Wesker had a look of disdain on his face as he listened to whatever their guest was saying. The other man looked like he was dressed for battle, with camo cargo pants, combat boots, a snug-fitting t-shirt and holster straps banding across his broad shoulders. She could only see his stocky back from where she was standing, but could make out that his left arm was smaller than the right, and wrapped in bandages. Wesker looked over his companion's shoulder directly at Claire, whose face flushed at being caught trying to check out what was going on. He interrupted the other man mid sentence.
"Miss Redfield. I was just greeting my associate here." The other man turned his face to see who had interrupted them, and Claire got a good look him. She wished she hadn't. Thick, jagged scars ran the length of his face, which looked like it was stuck in a permanent scowl. It wasn't his appearance that bothered her, though. It was that she knew who he was. And according to Leon, he was supposed to be dead.
"Krauser."
"Do I know you, lady?" he asked, sounding annoyed. She had interrupted his discussion and somehow knew who he was. Claire wanted to head back to her room and shut the door, but didn't want it to look like she was scared. Instead she apprehensively moved from the sofa to a chair where she could see without having to crane her neck.
"No, but...I think we have a mutual friend." Krauser looked back to Wesker as if to say, Is this going to be a problem?.
"She is a nonconcern. Continue."
Krauser shuffled his feet before proceeding. Claire assumed that whatever the soldier had to say wasn't something that was supposed to remain a secret from her, but got the feeling that he didn't want to have a conversation in front of her either. "The Loach is where it should be, sir, and I'll clear the runway on my way out. You know I'm not meant for the sidelines though, I-"
BZZZT
Wesker pulled his phone out of his pocket, glanced at it, and put it back. "Something requires my attention. When I return momentarily we will continue this discussion," he said, looking directly at Krauser. "I trust you will be civil," were the words he spoke as he closed his door behind him. Whatever is in there, he doesn't want Krauser to see either. And now I'm alone with this guy.
"How do you know who I am?" the man in the cargo pants asked as soon as Wesker's door had shut. He was still scowling, and Claire could feel him assessing her with his eyes. She was feeling uneasy and wished the door to her room wasn't so far away, but also didn't think that Wesker would have knowingly left them alone if he thought there might be a problem. She wasn't afraid of a fight, but she didn't have any weapons right now and this guy was freakishly muscular. There is a table lamp nearby, though.
"I am-was-friends with Leon Kennedy." Krauser's eyes went wide and he started walking towards the sitting room. "We aren't exactly on speaking terms, though." He nodded, continuing his slow approach.
"Kennedy. I think I might have died because of him," he said. "Kind of a self-righteous asshole, if you ask me." Claire felt a flash of anger.
"Leon is one of the few good guys," she said fiercely, feeling the need to defend her friend despite the circumstances. "If by 'self-righteous' you mean hasn't been dabbling in bio-organic weaponry and kicked your ass in a fight, then you hit that nail right on the head, pal." His face clouded.
"If you're here, then you must be a hypocrite. The plaga inside me was my saving grace. I was supposed to bring it back to him," he nodded towards the closed door, "but things didn't work out that way. He ended up having to come get my ass, but instead of putting me out of my misery, he kept me alive." He was now standing just a few feet from the chair she was sitting in, and her skin crawled. "Just what are you to Wesker?" Something about him was very off-putting, She felt his eyes on her chest, and glanced down to see that in switching seats, one of her nipples had maneuvered it's way outside of the cup of her just-a-little-too-small-bra. As she began to speak, she leaned forward slightly and pulled a bra strap, putting everything back in place. Fuck, that was the worst wardrobe malfunction timing ever.
"I'm not fucking him if that's what you're asking," she snapped. "I'm also not involved in whatever he's got going on. And honestly, you creep the hell outta me, so if you don't mind, I'm going to go on and-"
"It doesn't sound like you're too important, then. You know-" Krauser started, standing in the way where she wouldn't be able to pass without walking closely to him, which she didn't want to do. She was starting to reach for the nearby table lamp and he sneered, was clearly enjoying intimidating her. The hair on the back of her neck was on end. "I had to supervise the lady who brought in your stuff. I know what you have on underneath." She shuddered in disgust and lifted the lamp off the table, pulling the cord out of it's socket. It had a heavy metal base, and the lampshade fell off as she hefted it. "So. Does the carpet match the drapes?"
The lamp was arcing through the air and Claire was expecting to feel a hard impact, had braced herself for it, but instead of the heavy metal base colliding with flesh, it swooshed through thin air. She almost lost her balance, had stood up and swung in the same movement, and when she regained her footing noted that Krauser was no longer in front of her. She heard something loud thud against the hardwood floor near the door, then thump against a wall. Wesker's door was hanging open.
She left the sitting area, still holding the lamp, and saw that Wesker had Krauser by the throat in his right hand. He was holding him far up off the ground against the wall; the soldier's lips were moving, but he was unable to get any words out and was unsuccessful at trying to pry open Wesker's steel-tight grip.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to break my word," the tyrant snarled, looking at Krauser but speaking to her, "-about not having any test subjects." These last words he seethed through gritted teeth, face contorted in rage and glowing eyes visible even behind his sunglasses. She shuddered. She wasn't sure that Krauser didn't deserve to be the scared one, but she didn't want to watch him die, either.
"Please put him down. Isn't he still useful to you?" She didn't think he'd listen to her wants, but he might listen to logic. She was doing all she could to keep the panic out of her voice, caused both by being in the room with a raging Wesker(that was not directed at her, in a turn of events) and how the other man's legs were starting to stop kicking. "I mean, you did keep him alive for this long, right? You wouldn't do that for nothing?"
Wesker didn't move for a very long moment, but then loosened his grip on the other man's throat, lowering him to the ground so that his feet touched the floor again. When Krauser collapsed onto the floor and was gulping in air through his now likely damaged trachea, Wesker looked down at him as if he were some disgusting mess that had to be cleaned up. "You are a broken soldier past your prime, and have proven to be a liability in the field," he hissed. "That is why you will continue to do whatever work I assign, seeing as you have been blacklisted everywhere else. While you may still have limited use, that comes to an end the moment you lose your senses as you have today. Keep this in mind, as I will ensure that you and I are alone next time." As soon as Krauser's face turned back to a normal color, he was rasping out apologies and excuses.
"I was just messing around, I'm sorry I got carried away, it won't-"
"GET OUT!" Wesker growled at him, turning back to face Claire. As Krauser hurriedly got up and made his exit, Claire Redfield watched Wesker stop partway across the floor, taking a deep breath and seeming to collect himself before continuing towards her. She could still see his eyes glowing from behind those black lenses. He was still angry, though she was caught off guard by how calm his voice was when he next addressed her. "Are you alright?"
"I-yeah, I'm okay. Just a little shaken up." She set the lamp back on the table. She wasn't just shaken up; she was furious. Furious at her brother, at Krauser, at the world. Everything was shit. Just once she would like something good to happen to Claire Redfield. I deserve that much, don't I? "He works for you? It looked like you were going to kill him." Her adrenaline was still pumping from the confrontation, and she found herself closer to him than intended in her path back to her room.
"His life does not matter." Despite his calm tone, Claire could still feel the energy radiating off of him, and he annunciated each word clearly, deliberately. He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her towards him. Her eyes widened and her heart fluttered, but she gave no resistance and stepped forward. He searched her face from behind black lenses, looking for any sign of alarm but seeing only a reflection of his own desire in her eyes. "You are not his." There was another part that went unspoken, but he said it in the way he reached out his other hand behind her to hold the back of her neck, the way he leaned his face towards hers, and he said it in the way he caught her lips in his, her scent and taste overpowering all his other senses. You are mine.
Claire's fingers trembled slightly as she reached up to run the them through the surprisingly soft hair on the back of his head. She knew that at least part of her should be scared, but right now she felt like this was the safest place in the world. And I want this so badly. Eyes closed, she kissed him back softly, passionately. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he ran his tongue over her upper lip, and she gave his bottom lip a gentle nibble, earning a low growl. She allowed his tongue to gain access to her mouth, and massaged it back with her own.
He kissed her fervently and pulled her even closer. She could feel her breasts crushed against his chest. With one hand still entangled on the back of his head, the fingertips of her other hand reached out to lightly touch his shoulder, like this might not be something that was allowed, and she trailed her fingers down his arm delicately, feeling the muscle under his black suit jacket. His hand that had been on the small of her back traveled down to her hip, and she could feel a gloved thumb on the bare skin just above her jeans and just underneath her shirt; his touch made her skin tingle.
Claire felt a sudden rush of air move past her and then felt her back hit a wall. When she opened her eyes, she saw they were now in the hallway next to one of the doors. He must have used his abilities. She didn't care, just as long as he didn't stop kissing her. She almost panicked when he did, until she realized it was only so he could move his mouth to her neck, where he planted a couple of kisses before softly biting the tender flesh where her jawbone met her neck. She involuntarily let out a low moan that Wesker caught in his mouth, again pressing his lips to her own.
Something snapped inside of him when he heard the sound he had caused her to make, and he pressed his right thigh up between her legs, forcing them open while pressing against the sensitive area between her legs. She could feel a hardness pressing on her thigh, and her stomach quivered when she felt the unexpected pressure of his leg against her sex. She couldn't help herself from slightly grinding her hips. He pulled his face back to study hers, and as she stared back up at him through hazy eyes, could see the inhuman glow from behind his sunglasses. When he spoke, his face was still inches from her own and his voice sounded...different. Quieter, but more intense.
"I heard you make it a point to tell my subordinate that we've had no relations," he muttered, "yet here you are, taking pleasure at my touch." He leaned in closer so that his next words tickled her ear, his mouth almost touching it, and the hand on her hip traveled up the skin of her side. "Should I take you now, dear heart?" Her cheeks burned and she felt herself throb against the thigh still resting between her legs. She nodded into his shoulder.
"Yes." -FWOOSH-
She was now laying on her back, and reached a hand out to feel blankets underneath her, realizing they must now be on a bed. Wesker grasped the edges of her shirt and pulled it over her head; she clumsily pulled her arms from the sleeves as the shirt cleared her head and went sailing, taking note of the sharp exhale he let out when he saw her breasts practically spilling over her bra.
She rested a hand on his chest and started to trail her fingers down the black fabric of his shirt, down his ribs, to his stomach-she almost made it to his beltline before he roughly grabbed her wrist, pinning it to her side. Her chest heaved up and down as she watched him study her from behind his black lenses, like she was something interesting being seen under a microscope for the first time. She could only imagine what she looked like right now, breathless and lustful. Still not taking his eyes off of her, with his free hand he reached down and undid the button fastening her jeans, watching her as he pulled the zipper down painfully slow. He let go of her wrist to grip the waist of her pants, pulling them down and off in one swift movement and revealing the plain black panties underneath.
Claire Redfield was laying in bed wearing nothing but her undergarments as a fully clothed Albert Wesker positioned himself between her legs. She was feeling a bit vulnerable, but was enjoying the attention he was giving her, the way his eyes ran over her bare skin. He started to reach for her again before pausing, and instead raised his hand to his mouth where he gripped one of the fingertips with his teeth, pulling his hand free from the black leather. After removing the other glove and tossing them both to the side, he leaned forward over top of her and kissed her once more. When she first felt his bare fingers trace their way up either side of her, she shivered in delight; she'd never even seen him without his gloves on. Again she tried to reach for him, and again he forcefully grabbed her wrist to stop her, pushing her arm away, his face still on hers. One of his hands traveled to her back, and she arched up to allow him easier access to the clasp of her bra. Just after, she felt the tension of the straps lessen and the the cool air of the room on her breasts, her nipples lightly brushing the fabric of his shirt as he continued to devour her mouth with his own.
He trailed a hand up her stomach and cupped a breast in his hand before running his thumb slowly over the nipple, then pinching it firmly. She whimpered into his mouth, and at that sound he bit her bottom lip hard enough to almost draw blood, pressed his pelvis against her. She could feel his clothed erection against her panties, felt the smallest inkling of worry when she felt how large his bulge was, grinded up against it. Her panties were plastered to her own wetness, but she didn't care what kind of mess she made. Releasing her lip from between his teeth, he dipped his head down to her chest, to her other breast. She was disappointed when she could no longer feel him pressed against her panties, but when she first felt his tongue flit against her nipple, she again reached a hand up into the hair on the back of his head, tangling his hair between her fingers as she squeezed her thighs against his sides. His tongue swirled around the peak of her nipple before he caught it between his teeth gently, and Claire dug the nails of her other hand into his back, through is shirt, wishing she could feel more of his skin on hers.
As if hearing her thoughts, he ceased his ministrations to shrug off his jacket and throw it to the side, also ridding himself of his shirt. He ran his eyes over her again before burying his face in her neck, squeezing her thighs tightly in his grip before moving hands up to her hips. She could have sworn she felt him smelling her as he nibbled at her neck, but couldn't have cared less when she was finally able to run her hands over his muscular back, brushing her fingers against his shoulder blades before scratching her nails up his bare skin. He growled ferally into the nape of her neck, brushing fingers just above the waistband of her panties before grasping them by the front and ripping them off.
Claire gasped at the sting of the fabric being torn away and suddenly felt very self conscious when Wesker leaned back to get a better look at her. He ran the middle finger of his right hand through the wetness between her legs, brushing the sensitive bundle of nerves in the upward stroke, and lifted the soaked digit in front of Claire's face with a smirk that said, Look what I did to you, before sticking it into his own mouth to suck the juices off. He closed his eyes, looked like he was savoring the taste, and he wasted no time moving the hand back down between her thighs, again running his finger between her legs, this time sinking the tip of his finger into her heat. She stifled a whimper with the back of her hand, bucking her hips against the hand between her thighs as his other hand caressed her stomach, her breasts, wherever it landed. He slid the finger out before slipping it back in, this time pushing all the way inside of her up to his knuckle. She couldn't stifle the sound she made as she felt herself clench around him, feeling pressure in just the right spot. He pumped the finger in and out of her languidly, curling his finger slightly each time it entered her, watching her writhe in pleasure by his doing, taking in the sweet sounds she made.
Claire had half expected him to continue toying with her, try to see just how desperate he could make her before she started begging(which she wasn't certain she was above at the moment), but considered that he might be struggling with the same intense desire when she saw his other hand fumbling at his belt. This time as he removed his hand from between her legs, she grabbed it with both of her own and brought it to her face. She watched his expression as she licked herself off the palm of his hand, running her tongue up his finger before sticking it in her own mouth and swirling her tongue around it. The taste was bitter and sweet at the same time, and was well worth the low rumbling sound she evoked from Wesker's chest as he again leaned over her, pulling his hand free and moving it back down, this time coming to a rest on her hip bone, digging fingers into her soft flesh. She nipped at the skin of his neck, but stopped when she felt that Wesker had finally freed himself from the confines of his pants. She felt the head of his hard length between her folds, felt it push up and rub against her clit, the pleasure that came with the sliding friction. Grasping at his back and wrapping her legs around him, she moved her hips, feeling how slick she had made him, feeling the girth between her thighs as he repeated the motion at a leisurely pace once, twice, three times, before he adjusted his hips to line himself up with her center. Her face was still buried in his neck when he entered her, and she cried out.
He grunted as the tip of his cock pushed into her, stopping when he was barely an inch inside of her to allow her time to adjust. She was eager, but he didn't want to ruin this by hurting her. Then she started moving her hips, writhing against him, trying to feel as much of him as possible, and he slowly sunk deeper into her.
She could feel every inch of him as he entered her body, could feel the veins of his member rub against her entrance, the twitches it made as he showed great restraint in not just slamming himself inside of her all at once. She could feel herself stretching around his size, groaned in ecstasy as she felt him slide into her, even more turned on by the low growl that could just barely be heard each time he exhaled. When he was pressing against her cervix, she could feel that he still wasn't all the way in. He pulled out of her slightly, waiting just until she made an impatient sound against his shoulder before plunging his cock into her all at once, stuffing himself inside her as his hips slammed forward.
Claire clenched her eyes shut and tried to make a sound, but no noise came out, pain mangled with pleasure as everything went blurry for a moment. He was now buried in her up to the hilt, and her walls pulsated around him as they tried to get used to the large length inside her. Once she was sure he hadn't torn anything, she opened her eyes, feeling moisture on her fingertips. She realized that her nails had broken the skin on his back, leaving red, angry trails that then disappeared by themselves. Again he partially pulled out of her before slowly pushing back inside, this time not forcing himself in all the way. She was soaked, and he could feel how slick he was with her fluids, dripping down his shaft as he repeated the motion, could hear the sounds of pleasure she tried to bury in his neck.
He fell into a slow rhythm at first, massaging her inner walls as she bucked her hips underneath him. He wanted to watch her, wanted to see her face as he moved inside her, but when he moved to lift his torso, she clung to him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging in lightly now, face still buried, the moans she let out with each thrust permeating the air. He could pry her off if he wanted to, could force her into any position he'd like; he hardly entertained the idea, though. He liked the way she moved against him too much, the way she was making these sounds just for him. Just for me.
She didn't want to look him in the face right now; she just wanted to continue to feel him pressed against her, pressing inside her, and yet somehow he still doesn't feel close enough. He started thrusting more deeply, and she felt him hit just the right spot with each stroke as he picked up the pace, faster and faster until hitting a merciless rhythm, unrelenting in the quickened tempo. Sweat was beading on her forehead, but she couldn't detect any signs of over-exertion on his part, even continuing at this pace. She'd almost forgotten how physically capable he was, realized he must have to be mindful not to get too carried away with her, past normal human limits.
She spurred him on with her heels on the small of his back until she felt a pressure building inside her, her muscles tightening as his cock continued to pound inside of her over and over again, and her pleasure reached a crescendo as she came, moans turning to cries, turning to yells, turning to impulsive words that she couldn't stop, didn't want to. "F-fuck, fuck, please don't stop, you feel so good, please don't stop, WESKER!"
He didn't stop, instead using his grasp on her hips to thrust into her deeply, his breath hitching, and when she started shouting and he heard the need in her voice, when she clenched around him so tightly, when she said his name, that sent him over the edge. He lost all composure as he was pushed over the precipice, thrusting slowly, deliberately, growling in her ear as she felt his seed spill inside her.