Sullied
Rebecca made a sound of excitement and kicked her legs to help him pull her panties off.
Her heart was beating so hard. She was so excited. She was flushed. She thought -I'm in bed with Chris Redfield. I'm in bed with Chris Redfield.
Her little mound was a delightful temptation of springy dark hair between her narrow thighs. He brushed the backs of his fingers against it and she shivered. He parted her to slide his thumb against her delicate clit.
Rebecca bowed up like he'd stuck a shock rod in her. She gasped, her eyes blurred, and she grabbed his face. Her other hand jerked on his dick so forcefully it stole his breath. She released him, gasping, "Sorry…sorry…I'm sorry."
God…she was so young.
YOUNG. His brain was trying to remind him of that. What was it about the young part that was a simultaneous turn on and a thing that made him hesitate?
He laughed a little to soothe her and shifted. He watched her try again. She took his eager length and angled him at her. She rubbed him against her dewy slit. The needy little thing that she was…did she think she'd poke him in her and that would be it? Her tongue poked between her teeth as she ran him over her body.
He let her. He let her hold him in her fist and play with him. She spread her thighs a little wider and pushed him at her opening. His whole body tightened with excitement for it.
He didn't care, in that moment, that she was too young and untested and untouched. He wanted to feel anything and she offered him that. She pushed him against her body. She pushed the fat head of his cock into her body. He let her. He let her take the head of him. And felt the stretch of her tight, virginal body to take even that.
She gasped and stopped. And he shook his head and eased back from her. She shivered, watching his face. "No?"
"Not like that." He sounded so gruff. But it was working. He was only seeing her body now. His dick was eager to fuck her. He was thinking with his dick and it was better. It was better.
Chris knelt between her thighs and pushed the little pink dress up her body until he could reach the clasp on her plain white bra. Her smooth belly, her perfect belly button, with small bruises on the pale flesh like flower blooms.
Rebecca watched him, gasping and so sweet. Sweet, he thought, he knew she was sweet. So young. So eager. Innocent. Sweet. He needed sweet. That was the only word his brain kept firing off now. Because she was. She was desperate for him and sweet. He wanted sweet. He wanted anything but the crush and rush of horror that gnawed with ugly teeth at his soul.
The clasp gave and her filled his hands with her eager breasts. They were pert, soft, perfect. The nipples were already tight and begging. They brushed his palms as he rolled them, kneaded them, and guided his mouth to them to taste them.
She even tasted like sweet iced tea on a searing summer day.
Rebecca bowed against his mouth now, crying out. He left them wet and suckled, he left them used and warm. He pleasured them and her and himself with the taste of it. His mouth licked over her belly, tongue diving into the tasty mystery of her navel. She gasped and wound her fingers in his hair.
Virgin, he thought desperately, virgin.
CLEAN.
And he wanted clean - no- he NEEDED it.
His fingers brushed the soft spill of springy hair at her center. She moaned, shaking. She gasped his name.
His eyes flicked up her body.
He wanted to feast on her innocence...like the villain in some horrible fantasy story, he wanted to ruin her. His body liked the idea of it. He tilted his head at her flushed face and she whimpered, "...please?"
Please, what? But he knew what. He knew what she thought she wanted.
So, he speared his tongue into the eager heat of her.
Pure thing that she was - wonderful thing that she was.- she came almost instantly. It was almost shocking how fast she came apart. He watched her eyes blur up the line of her body. He tongued her body like a madman, sucking and licking and nipping and taking. She cried out and humped into his face like she'd throw him off with the excitement of it.
He swallowed her gasping release as she went slick and hot around his thrusting tongue. He was so fucking pleased with her reaction to him, the purity of her goddamn release, that he licked her clean, rolling her hips against his face to destroy her with the need of it. She closed her thighs around his head and clenched, bucking.
Rebecca didn't even fight it. .She just burst apart on the wave of her first orgasm. It broke from her mouth in a squeal of sound that was his name. Her hands grabbed his jaw and drove him against her while she did it. She, literally, humped his face without stopping.
Amused, he laughed against her body and left her throbbing.
Chris slid his mouth away and filled her with one finger, testing. She was so small. Her hungry body sucked in that one finger and milked it. He pressed, slipping in her juices to feel her contract around him. Rebecca cried out like he'd stuffed her full of his enormous cock.
And she bowed, grabbing his wrist to help him find a smooth rhythm with that one finger.
God. She was something. His mind said: she's a TEENAGER. She's CLAIRE'S AGE.
He pressed his finger deeper into her and found his answer. She was a virgin. He felt the thin little barrier that told the story of that innocence he craved. It thrummed against his questing digit, blocking his gentle assault on her.
He wanted…to rise up and fuck her. He wanted to fill her up and watch her cry out when he ripped that little barrier away and rode her skinny body to release. He wanted to use the blood of ushering her into womanhood to wash away the blood of those he'd left behind to die in that mansion.
He shifted his hand and stroked her slippery little clit with his thumb while he slid his finger into her body. He stroked her. She gasped, shook, and her eyes held his face as she hit the edge of her orgasm and burst apart with it.
One finger, he thought madly, one finger. She was full from it. Full of it. She'd never be able to take all of him without ripping her apart.
He wanted to rip her apart.
It ached in his balls like madness.
Who was he? He was a man, at the end of the day, and his body wanted to pound into her while she squealed and bounced and came around him. But she wasn't some slut in a bar. She wasn't some girl on the street. She wasn't a whore.
She was Rebecca.
And she was his friend.
And she was a VIRGIN.
So he gave her that last orgasm and watched her come down, gasping. His hand slid from between her legs. He shifted to latch her little bra and he pulled her dress down.
Her voice was almost squeaky when she said, "Chris? It's ok. Don't stop. It's ok."
She grabbed his dick in her hand and tugged. She was clueless but it was a dick, not rocket science. It didn't need her genius IQ to work it. She crawled a little toward him and he spilled back on the bed like he'd…what? Run?
Was he trying to run away from the amorous 90 pound girl that was chasing him?
He almost laughed at that and she licked him.
She licked the sticky tip of him. He grabbed her face to stop her and she sucked the tip of him in her mouth. Christ on crutches, he thought madly, baby or not….she was determined.
Rebecca actually crawled up his body and sat on him. She sat on his stomach and shifted. Surely she was kidding. She couldn't take him. Maybe ever. And she couldn't take him on top like this. He'd split her open while she bled all over him.
Bled all over him…
…monster.
She lifted her naked hips and took him in her fist. She angled him at her creamy little center. She was determined to fuck him. She had no clue what it would do to her. He wouldn't fuck her. Not like this. Not without a condom and not when it would hurt her.
She rubbed him over her body again.
She started to angle him into her.
Jesus, his mind yelled, STOP HER.
Right.
He did nothing. He let her angle him into the heat of her. She whimpered, tongue poked between those teeth. His hand shot under the dress to stroke where the fat head of him penetrated her. His thumb stroked at her clit.
He caught her waist with the other hand and rolled his hips. The head breached her, she creamed around the feel of him, and her eyes trembled sweetly. Fuck. He was riding high on the sheer joy on her. She grabbed for him, eager, happy. So happy. She leaned down to kiss him a lot. Her mouth was on his face, his nose, his cheeks.
An amorous little fairy. A teenager.
Stop.
He didn't stop.
She hiked up her dress and tugged to send it away and leave her naked above him. It was enough. The guilt was worse now than the rolling horror that waited beyond it. This wasn't right. It wasn't him. And it wasn't what she wanted…not really. She deserved some sweet kid that loved her like mad to mount her and make her cry out.
Not a broken fucking mess looking to fuck the shit out of a girl and forget.
He had to show her a little that she was out of her depth here. He shifted to the side and speared two fingers into her body. He watched it echo on her face. Pain, yes, as he pressed against her hymen and stole her breath. And she pushed against his invading digits with need.
He fucked her fast and deep with his fingers now to give her what she wanted. Eager little thing. She wanted a good fucking. But she didn't want his dick. His dick would destroy her.
And he was pretty sure the guilt would destroy him too.
Rebecca cried out, his dick leaving smears of his need on her hip as she bounced above him, humping. He pushed, hard, against her hymen and watched it pain her. And he rasped, "Honey…honey…you aren't ready. You're not ready."
But he eased back and pleasured her until she came again around his gentle thrusting fingers. He gave her that third orgasm because she was sweet. Because he wanted her to find her pleasure. Because he wanted to see it on her.
And maybe it would erase what was aching behind his eyes.
"Oh…please…" She gasped it now. "Please…"
Chris slid his fingers out of her spasming body. She grabbed at him. He held her arms down now at her hips and waited. After a long moment, her eyes opened on him. And he watched her face for the moment the little pain of his invasion settled there.
After a moment, she whispered, "...it's ok...it is...you don't want me...it's ok...I'm not..." Her eyes teared up and she finished, "...I'm not like Jill... I know that... I'm not like-"
The guilt was worse somehow now. His hand caught the back of her neck and he tugged her down to him. He rolled her as he kissed her, her naked skin warm and soft against him.
She shivered.
When she trembled, he reached for the nightstand and fumbled in the box. Her body flushed with excitement as he grabbed the foil package and tore it open with his teeth. Rebecca, heart slamming, breathed, "...oh, please..."
Most of his life, he'd done the right thing. He'd played the good guy. He'd been a gentleman. Part of him wanted to do that here and walk away, because she was young, untested, sweet, soft and ready. She was ready. Wasn't he a better choice for a first time than some stupid boy who would hurt her and leave her unfulfilled?
He slipped the condom on and part her thighs. His hands worked her body while she soaked his fingers with excitement. When she was slick and hot, he angled himself toward her.
Rebecca whined in her throat and he leaned down to grip her hands and lay them over her head to hold her down. It was necessary, because the next part wasn't going to be what she thought. He breached her, she creamed around the invading girth of him to help lubricate the way, and he didn't stop. He watched it echo on her face. He watched the panic hit the pain and he soothed, gruffly, "...relax, ok? Breathe and relax... trust me."
She did. She trusted him. So her tight thighs opened. Her bated breath released. The pain was something, but it mixed with pleasure in her belly at the joy on his face. When he reached her hymen, he kissed her mouth and simply tore it down like he was kicking in a door. She cried out, into his mouth, as the pain spiked and he shook his head, soothing, "...it's done. It's done. Breathe."
She did. She took sharp, painful breaths. When her body resisted, he eased forward anyway. It opened, allowing him entrance to her until he was seated inside completely. They both shivered.
Rebecca whimpered with tears on her cheeks, "...that fucking hurts."
He laughed. He had to. She sounded so confused by it. All the romance novels in all the world didn't prepare a girl for a dick his size laying claim to them. There was simply no way to prepare a virgin for it.
He eased her lips to his, kissed her wetly, and slid out a few inches. When she sighed, he took those inches back. Her body tightened again. So, he soothed her, "...it gets better...I promise."
She wasn't sure she believed him.
But he went out again and came back in. He forced her stretched body to take him each time. He rubbed against some part of her deep inside and made her gasp and tighten. His hand skimmed down to play with her clit.
While she kissed him, experimenting with his tongue in her mouth and hers in his, he rolled out to the tip. She cooed softly, and he claimed her again. Her body seized, but her back bowed and she whined a little. Good. Good.
She was ready.
Pinning her hands again, he rose up enough to watch her face. She pinked prettily and he just started to ride her. Her thighs fell open, her mouth fell open in a wide O, and the pace increased. He wasn't slow, he wasn't fast - he was steady, like he'd been his whole life - steady and reliable. The guy who never failed, never let you down, never left you behind. He didn't let her resist, but he didn't force her to take him either. She begged, softly, shaking in his grip.
So, he gave her more.
When she keened a little, he went faster.
His hands pinned hers above her head. He invited, "Wrap your legs around my hips, honey. Now."
She did, no questions asked, and Chris started thrusting into her hard enough the body squeaked. Rebecca arched. Rebecca turned dewy with sweat. When she was ready, he switched positions and put her on her side with one let pulled to her chest. He straddled the other one and curled a hand around her shoulder, holding her in a vice almost to take the girth of him. She always looked wide eyed and wide mouthed at the pleasure.
He didn't have to ask if it was good.
Her innocence filled his belly when he kissed her. He put her on her back again and her legs over his arms to see how much he could take. He half expected his dick to poke in her throat with how small she was and how deep he tried to get.
When she cried out, clenching, he reared back and pulled out of her. The condom came off and he painted her belly with ropes of sticky cum. It was frustrating, as it always was, to want to fuck her bareback and feel her around him. But he was a good guy.
Good guys didn't bareback virgins.
She gathered him down to kiss him until they both finished cumming.
He rolled beside her on the bed and she trembled next to him.
"Are you sorry for it?" She sounded so nervous.
Chris smiled at her, softly, "You kidding? You liked it?"
"….oh yes. Oh…yes." And she giggled a little.
He was a gentleman.
Was she in love with him?
No. But she could be. Given the right incentive. She could be.
But she saw Jill Valentine written all over his face. She was all over his room, in pictures and pieces of things. She was on his body with their blended tattoo on his skin. She was everywhere. What girl could really stand a chance when he was all tied up with Jill?
Rebecca shifted a little more toward him. Her hand touched his face, "I might be a good girl, Chris Redfield. But you? You're a catch. They call you the freight train."
Amused a little, he smirked. "I heard that."
"They should call you the big squish. I think you are a soft under all that body armor."
He eyed her slyly, "You think I'm squishy?"
Rebecca felt her belly seize, "...I think you're incredible."
There it was. He wanted to feel guilty. He waited for it, but it just felt good. No madness. No drama. No rules. She wasn't Jill. Jill had boundaries. Rebecca? He leaned over and cupped her pussy. She gasped, bowing a little. He knew she was raw and tender. He also knew she'd let him fuck her again anyway.
It was intoxicating.
Instead, he soothed, "You're gonna be sore down here for a couple days. Let's get you some frozen peas and a place on the couch. How about I feed you?"
"I wouldn't say no to a steak."
He lifted a brow at her. "A little thing like you?"
"Oh yeah baby. Bring on the T-Bone." She winced after a moment, "Maybe the wrong time for the bone reference."
"Potentially. You're really ok?"
"I'm great, Chris. I'm perfect. Don't worry about me wanting to marry you. I know what we both wanted here. I'm glad it was you."
Shit. He was too. So he told her that, in his own way, "….I'm glad you're here, Rebecca."
"Me too. Now go cook me food. I'm starving."
Chris snorted and moved into the kitchen to start assembling dinner. He switched from sleeping pants to shorts and threw one an undershirt in ribbed white while Rebecca played in the backyard with Dog. He was dicing cucumbers when he heard the little motorcycle roar up in his driveway.
His heart shivered.
Because he wasn't sure which girl he wanted it to be.
When the red haired one with his eyes strode into the living room, he felt a little niggle of regret. Not that he didn't love his baby sister…but part of him had wanted it to be the other part of his heart instead. He glanced out at Rebecca as she laughed and ran from Dog with his favorite slobbery chew toy.
So maybe there was room in him for all kinds of love. Family, friends, forever…maybe that's what happened when you broke and fell apart. Maybe you got back up and made something from the pieces. Maybe he lost Jill in that mansion…and maybe he'd said goodbye to some tie of innocence that bound him to the idea that the good guys always win…and maybe he'd made a new friend too.
Claire smacked the back of his head.
"Hey buttbreath. Where ya been? I called you like twenty goddamn times last night."
He turned to face her.
And he wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to spill the beans.
And he wanted to protect her. He didn't know how deep the ties that bound were to what had happened there. Until he found out more, he was going to play this investigation close to the vest. He would tell NO ONE that he was going to uncover the truth…one ugly piece at a time.
So he told her nothing about zombies. He told her nothing about conspiracies and betrayal and blood and guts and gore. But he told her about the mission…in a way. She sat across from him and listened. His baby sister knew the right words to help. He told her about his team dying and he even made Wesker out to be a hero instead of a villain.
When he was done with his convoluted version of the truth, Claire wrapped her arms around him and held on. She wept for those who had died. She held on and stroked his back. And it was ok. It was ok, in that moment. It was ok. Because he was STILL HERE. He was STILL HERE and STILL ALIVE.
And there was a sweet kid holding him. And there was a sweet kid in his backyard with his dog.
And there was no Jill here.
There was no Jill.
And that would never really be ok.
His gaze settled on Rebecca who smiled and gave him a thumbs up, and somehow it was just a little easier with her there.