A/N: Thank god it's spring break (though it's almost over now). I'm sorry for the long wait. I haven't published since November, so the fact that I haven't been able to get around to it until now is pretty embarrassing, but I do have a legitimate reason. Student Teaching is a lot of work, friends. I teach the whole day from 7:30 to 4:00, then go home and have to write up the next day's lesson and make all the stuff that goes with it (power points, handouts, ext). I literally don't get to bed until midnight every night and then I'm up at 6 in the morning to start the next day. To say I've been limited on free time is an understatement. Finally, though, spring break has come so I was able to sit down and completely rework this chapter! And now, I can present it to you!

I've got about 3 more weeks of intense student teaching to go, so by May I should be free to type again! Thanks to everyone for sticking with me and waiting patiently for an update! An extra big thanks to ClockworkEcho and MissRose514 for keeping tabs on me and making sure I wasn't dead! As always, thanks for the reviews and the faves/follows! You guys are always great!

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! As promised last time, we get some delicious smutty goodness at the end, so enjoy, my friends!

Emil Lime

Albert Wesker, the director of the CIA, is 3. I'm starting to fall for Red really fucking hard. Vice has got a gun to my head in a locked room. Yah, I'd say things are starting to look pretty fucked up.

Status Report 15: Redemption

Static is the first thing I hear before the world explodes into pain and the resounding echo of the gunshot around me comes into play. My shoulder erupts into a sheer red blaze as I drop down just in time to miss the second shot. I can hear it lodge into the wood behind me, splintering it. But I don't have time to think about that.

Scrambling forward, I get behind his large desk just as another shot enters the ground I'd been squatting at previously. A low chuckle emits from his throat. "What's wrong, Nivans? Afraid?" Cocky son-of-a-bitch.

Vice leans over the desk, gun posed, but I'm ready for him. Launching up, I grab his wrist, twisting it violently. He gives a yelp and releases the gun, the heavy thing toppling to the desk, as I use all of my strength to pull Leon over the desk and toss him on the ground behind him, pinning him with my weight. He struggles, kicking and thrashing, but I don't budge. I work my forearm to his throat, pressing hard. Gasping, Leon kicks harder, finally working his knee under me enough to give him some leverage. With a forceful shove, he gets me off of him, my back slamming against the desk.

Kennedy doesn't waste any time pulling himself up and coming at me, hands circling my throat. His thumbs dig into my windpipe, causing me to chock. Fuck him for being so strong. He's too pretty to be this strong. The smirk on his face is wild as I grab at his wrists, yanking to relieve pressure. "I've wanted to do this for a long time."

I bet he's fucking wanted to strangle me. What a coincidence because I've wanted to punch that sorry excuse for a face for a long time, too.

He shuffles forward, effectively straddling my legs to keep me from kicking. I'm starting to see black spots in my vision. It's time to switch tactics. As one hand stays and pries for leverage, the other quickly goes to those obnoxious blonde locks, tugging them back viciously. One of the biggest rules of fighting is always play dirty. Don't assume for a second they won't go that far with you. When it's life-or-death, there's no such thing as a cheap shot.

Yelping as I tug violently, he finally lets up, his hands grapple at the wrist I've got lodged in his hair, pulling it out. Not wasting a second, I reach with my free hand up to the desk, pulling the gun into my fingers. I bring it flush with Vice's chest and he freezes, eyes filled with a cold rage as he glares at me. Pulling the arm he's got locked in his hands free, I fix my gaze on him. "Get the fuck off."

He only growls as he stands slowly, hands raised in surrender as he backs away. He stands flush with the door and I instantly can see he's planning on fleeing. Standing, I step over to him and grab his finely pressed shirt collar, throwing him to the side. He collides with the ground painfully, sending a venomous glare my way. "Fuck you, CIA."

"Fuck you too." I keep the gun pointed at him. "Now you're going to answer my questions and maybe I'll think about letting you go." Truth is, I don't think I've got another choice. If I kill him, it'll be easy to figure out it was me. That'll bring unneeded conflict to Red's territory since Vice's men aren't the type to take things lying down. A war like that could spell exactly what the Director is looking for, at which time the Anaconda plan could be put into effect. I've got to buy as much time as possible, which means Kennedy needs to be alive. Of course, he doesn't need to know that.

He just gives me a snide smirk though, calling my bluff before I even have time to show some kind of tell. "You really think you could walk out of here after killing me? Nivans, they'll tear you apart."

True, but he doesn't need to know I believe that. "Don't think I won't pull the trigger."

"I'm not thinking, Nivans, I know. I'm more valuable alive than dead. Let's just be honest with each other about that so we can skip the whole 'you threatening me' bullshit."

Once again I'm reminded that despite his pretty-boy antics, he's actually pretty clever. "Just because you're valuable to me alive doesn't mean I need you in one piece." Fucking true! Suck on that, Vice.

He pauses for a moment, though his face reads as bored instead of intimidated. "Can I stand up now?"

I resist rolling my eyes. "You're fine where you are." I pull the hammer back on the gun to iterate my point, "Answer my questions."

His tone irritates me, "You haven't asked them yet, kid." I'm not young enough to be called 'kid'. God, he knows every single button to click. Fucking snake.

I keep my cool despite myself—and despite the fact I really would rather just nail this guy to the fucking floor, show him his place is a lot lower than he's put himself. "What do you know about 3?" I'm not going to put all of my cards on the table quiet yet.

Vice shrugs like there isn't a gun pointing at his head, "They're some organization who knows everything about everyone at any time."

"Explain."

"That not clear enough for you kid?" Vice's eyes flash dangerously, "3 showed up shortly after my botched attempt at taking down Red, said they were all-seeing and could change the course of Insane City's history if they deemed it so. Like everyone else, I didn't take them seriously, thought it was some dumb teenagers who'd hacked into all our private accounts or something."

I motion for him to go on. "About a month later we get contact from 3 and they talked about how the Nemesis Gang, headed by Nikolai, was going to fall at the hands of a new gang. A woman named Viper would be the head and she'd take the surrounding territories practically overnight. Lo and behold, it happened. Exactly like they'd said it would. Viper sneaks in, takes Nikolai out and swallows surrounding territories so quietly that it was almost like it didn't happen."

That can't be a coincidence. She shows up just as 3 makes his appearance. They've got to be connected somehow. Could Viper really be working for the Director, though? The few times I've encountered her, it wouldn't surprise me. It'd make sense why the CIA never received much Intel on Viper's gang. It'd always been written off as she's tough to infiltrate. It could be because the Director has been censoring information. I'm fuming on the inside but I don't let it show.

"Viper's the one who told you about me." I ask instead, changing the direction of the conversation.

He nods, "She read the files when she got them from that other CIA agent. Had all of your info in it so she told me everything."

"Did she tell you what else was in those files?"

His blonde eyebrow raises slightly. I've piqued his interest. Apparently she hasn't been as open as he thought she's been. "What else was there to tell?"

I smirk, sarcasm dripping from my voice, "I thought you knew everything."

"Go fuck yourself." He bites back. "She only told me about you."

Of course, Kennedy not knowing about the Anaconda plan is a bad thing, it means I'm back to square one of this whole plan of mine. I'm sick and tired of being at fucking square one.

"The conspiracy?" I venture but he gives me a blank stare. "You haven't been approached yet?" I find that odd, considering the last time the CIA tried to overthrow Red they used Vice's gang to do it. A real 'bay of pigs' moment to be sure but a solid plan. Vice's gang is still the second largest one in Insane, so why leave him out of it?

Kennedy adjusts the way he's seated on the floor, completely ignoring the gun at this point. "If you're talking about the big overthrow plan for Red, I know about it but no, I haven't been asked to join. Not that I would anyway. Last time I betrayed him, I got off the hook with a few broken bones and an ass pounding. I don't feel like tempting fate again."

He's got a good head on his shoulders. "Do you know who's behind the conspiracy?"

He shakes his head. "Hell if I care, either." Vice is just like Red, the two completely infatuated with 3 and his all-seeing power. He wouldn't believe me if I told him the truth. Best to keep from fighting that pointless battle.

"This conspiracy will affect you too."

He smirks, "Not for very long. Chris is a simpleton. He'll bark orders at his men, tell them to stay true to him, and they will for awhile. But a month in, I'm betting they'll turn on him, tear him apart in the middle of the night just so they can have a hot breakfast in the morning." He gives a humorless chuckle, "That's the thing about power, kid. It's as fickle a mistress as any. These boys playing soldier, they don't understand loyalty. They don't understand devotion to cause or country. They're just boys. And as soon as they don't have food in their stomachs they'll do what comes easiest."

My blood runs cold at the thought of Red being taken down by his own men. It's most certainly what would happen. He'd never surrender. It'd be his men murdering him in the middle of the night that'd finally end the siege. Of course, that's not unlike what I'm planning on doing, knife in his back in the middle of the night. I shudder. He's really good at watching for enemies outside, but within? He's blind. It'd be all too easy for them—or me—to take him down when he's not expecting it.

Is that what this is all about then? Wesker instigates the Anaconda plan, chocking the morale of Chris' men until rather them or I take him out? Then he can take over as the head of this place. But for what purpose? Was the badlands of Insane City worth that much to him? It has to be something else.

Vice can only get me so far, I realize. "Take me to Viper."

He scoffs. "She's not exactly one of those 'come as you please' people."

I don't have time for this. I pull the trigger, the bullet lodging into the floor right beside Leon. "I said take me to her." To my surprise, he actually flinches.

"Look, we walk into her territory without an invite and we'll be shot down. Let me call and make an appointment." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell, dialing a number. Before he can click the call button, I'm speaking to him.

"You want to meet here, as soon as possible. Just you and her."

"I get it. You're not even here." My heart is pounding when he hits the button and waits for the pick-up. For all I know they've got a code system figured out. Him asking about the weather could really mean it's a trap and he's being held at gunpoint by a CIA agent. Though, it's probably not that detailed a signal, it's still possible he could give her a heads-up in regular conversation.

Finally, though, she answers and a smile breaks across Leon's face. "Viper. It's been awhile."

Muted, feminine tones come from the phone. I hold my breath. "Yah, we really need to finish up what we started the other night, don't we? You free tonight?"

More talking.

His response. "No? Oh, seeing other men, are we?"

I wait through the talking some more, heart pounding so loud I'm surprised she can't hear it on the other end of the line.

"Tomorrow night would be great. Guess I'll just have to, you know, think about you tonight."

God, it's painful to stand here and listen to them banter.

"Oh, you're so dirty."

Yup. Really painful.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow." That smooth smirk crosses his face again, "I'll be waiting." He clicks the phone off, the look of romantic bliss instantly gone from his features as he glares up at me. "Happy? Tomorrow night she can be here."

"No surprises?"

"No surprises." I don't believe him. "Now get the fuck out of my office."

I can't just leave him to do as he pleases. It wouldn't take him more than a second to call her back and indicate that their meeting wasn't going to be the kind of meeting he'd previously promised. I jab the gun in his direction. "Stand up. You're coming with me."

Vice rolls his eyes before standing, "I don't see why this is necessary."

"And I don't see why you're talking. The more your lips move, the less use I see in you."

Vice smirks, "I manage to get on your nerves?"

I don't give into my desire to punch him across his overly-pretty face. "We're going back to Red's."

"Ooh, rough. I like it." He grins an animalistic grin at me that reminds me of my encounter with Red in his office none too long ago. There's a sting of heat in my veins but I quickly push it aside, fixing an annoyed glare at Vice.

"You want to keep those jewels of yours?"

"You want to see those jewels of mine?"

I point the gun towards the door, "Tell your men to stand down. You're going to visit Red for a little chat, nothing for them to be alarmed about." Surprisingly, he goes to the door as I tuck the gun into my belt. It feels good having a weapon on me, even if it's only temporary. With ease, we move through his security, the men instantly bowing their heads in respect. Despite how absolutely sick this man is, he's got an impressive following of people. It's his charisma that drives people to him and keeps them even when they know they'd be better off leaving. Not unlike Claire, I suppose. Her infatuation with him, despite it's unhealthy implications, shows Leon's got that effect on people.

I guess that's why he's so damn cocky.

We're back in Red's territory in no time and through the entire walk, Vice doesn't bother striking up a conversation with me. I guess he knows it won't get him anywhere. We make it back to base, the large mall's security team of teens letting us through with wide, curious eyes. I instruct one of them to hurry ahead and explain to Red that I've brought him Vice. The teen nods eagerly, darting off.

By the time we reach the conference room—the one stained with Henry Pretz' blood—Red's sitting in his throne with a grin on his face. "Nice to see you again, Leon."

"Likewise."

"So," Chris states, crossing one leg over the other, "You know something about this conspiracy against me." It's a statement, not a question.

I can see real fear hidden in the non-chalant grey-blue of Leon's eyes. He isn't scared of me, but he's scared of Red. "I'm working on getting some answers about it actually. From Viper."

Red frowns, "The woman I told you to stay away from?"

He nods softly before giving a sheepish glance towards the floor. "I think she's got some information on this conspiracy. Going to be meeting up with her tomorrow night, figured you and your pet can ask about it then."

The gang lord ponders this for a moment and I do my best to keep myself still and unsuspicious. Kennedy could easily sell me out right here and now and it'd win him some serious points with Chris, that's if he believes the snake. Leon's got no evidence as I've got that tucked away in that phone booth across the territory from here. It'd be a blind accusation, but one that could possibly spell disaster for me should it be stated.

Red finally speaks, "We'll see what she has to say before I make my judgement on you. Cole's been hunting down the people involved in this conspiracy, Vice. And let me say, he's good at extracting exactly what I like from my prisoners." Leon pales ever so slightly. He's actually scared shitless right now. Honestly, I am too. Seeing Chris' delighted grin as he looks down at his prey is horrifyingly inhuman, like a monster stalking the night. "Cole, let him bunk with Alfred tonight, give him a taste of his fate come tomorrow."

I nod, swallowing the cruelty as I turn and take Vice to the holding cell of Alfred Ashford. Alexia's body is still there, though it's beginning to smell and rot. He doesn't even seem to notice as I open the cell and shove Kennedy inside. The blonde gives one look to the toppled heap of broken man on the floor and cringes. "You can't be serious."

"I can do much worse to you, Leon."

He shakes his head, "And you call us monsters." Hey, I never claimed to be pure. Sometimes it takes a monster to kill a monster. "You know I have nothing to do with that conspiracy."

"I know," I state as I turn, "But Chris doesn't. He's the one you'll need to convince." With that, I leave the blonde to his company, heading up the stone stairs and closing the door behind me. Once it latches, I lean against it, feeling exhaustion wash over me. I can feel the gun digging into my skin and a vision of going into Red's chambers and shooting him in the head comes to mind. I could do it now, end it before this entire conspiracy has a chance to kick in and really hurt the people of Insane City. It'd be the easiest thing. He wouldn't see it coming, wouldn't expect it from me anymore. He thinks I'm loyal, thinks I'm one of them now. It'd just take him turning away for a second and I could pop one in his skull, be done with this whole thing.

I could take Jill and be on the next bus out of here, leave someone else to clean up the mess.

The gun is cold, heavy.

I push away from the door and being trekking back to the conference room. He's still in there when I peek inside, absently looking through the file I'd given him. He'd brought it with him earlier, I assume, probably wanting to pour over it some more before finally calling it a day. When I close the door, he looks up at me. "Cole." He states before turning his eyes back at the pages.

Stepping forward, I speak, "Vice has been put away, sir."

"Good. None of the emails inside this file are to or from him." He flips a page, "I don't think he's involved."

"Viper is," I state, "She appeared shortly after 3 did. In fact, she was his first prediction. To say there isn't a connection would be…" What's the word, stupid? Idiotic? Ridiculous?

"That's why I never trusted her, you know. She's too secretive, too convenient. Plus, I liked Nikolai. He was a good man, didn't deserve what he got."

"Your sister says the same thing about you."

He gives me a look, his eyes breaking from the thick folder of information. "Claire talk to you about me?"

"Once." I put my hands on my hips, "She's worried about you. Thinks your involvement in Insane City is getting to be too invested. Said you were different when you were with Jill."

That earns a cold, hard glare from him. "She needs to learn to mind her own business."

"3 told you about Jill, right?" I already know that's the case. Jill confirmed that for me specifically. I still don't know Wesker's motivation to revealing his own spy to the enemy. It seems counter-productive when he's trying to take down Red. Jill said she was close, too. Which makes me nervous.

His response is a grunt as he goes back to pouring over the document in his hands. "Why are we having this conversation, Cole?"

I'm not entirely sure, actually. I continue the train anyway. "You know, it's okay to walk away."

Chris shakes his head.

"You almost left once, you can do it again."

He glares up at me again, "Cole, it's really not your place to tell me what to do."

I put my hands up in surrender, "I'm doing no such thing, sir. I'm just letting you know there are other options. Just because you've painted yourself into a corner doesn't mean you can't move now that the paints dry."

An eyebrow raises as his face switches from accusing and harsh to questioning and only mildly irritated. "Cole, I've worked very hard to establish this kingdom. I'm not going to walk away because some asshole is threatening me with a conspiracy."

Boneheaded and stubborn. Kennedy's right. It'd probably just take a month. "Yes, you've worked hard to create this, but is it something worth saving?" The sinkhole theory at play—the more time and money you've invested into something, the harder it is to walk away, even if that said something is collapsing around you.

"Again, why are we having this conversation? Did Claire put you up to this?"

"She misses you."

He rolls his eyes, "It's not like I'm booked with appointments."

"No," I state, "She misses you. The 'you' I saw when you made breakfast that one morning, right after I was released from the holding cell. It's that 'you' that she misses."

"Cole," his voice is sharp, warning.

I put my hands up again, "Fine, I'll leave it alone. Just don't forget you can always walk away. It's still an option, always will be." He holds his glare at me a little longer before going back to skimming the folder. My heart is pounding in my chest, the fear of him lashing out dissipating as the silence continues to yawn between us. With nothing more to say, the weight of the gun still fully present, I turn and begin walking towards the door.

He calls from behind me as I put my hand on the handle. "You're right."

I turn to look at him, so he continues. "I can walk away. But I'm not going to. Do you want to know why?" I give a nod, turning fully towards him to give him my undivided attention. "Because a man like me can never earn redemption, Cole. The things I've witnessed, the things I've done…No man walks back from that. So I have two choices, stay and continue the road that'll take me to hell, or turn around and face the hell I've left in my wake."

He leans back in his throne, "So I do what any sane person would do, continue the course I've charted come hell and high water. I'm human, Cole, which is why I won't ever walk away."

"Never walk away…" I mutter more to myself than him. He couldn't be more right about that. He's got his lot in life, just like I do, and that lot is fucking shitty. Turning away from it means facing the harsh reality of what we've done. Continuing forward, we can put the blinders on, pretend we're good fucking people living good fucking lives for the betterment of society. I can pretend my job means a damn to someone, that I'm saving lives and killing terrorists, that it doesn't mean every time I pull the trigger I'm not murdering someone who's got the same delusions of grandeur I've got. Red is the same way.

I straighten myself and walk back over to him, the man giving me a curious look as I do so. When I'm standing before him, I pull the gun from my belt, his eyes never betraying a single thought. The cold steel in hand, I place it on the ground in front of me. "It's loaded and in one clean shot, I could end your life or my own. That's your redemption, Chris. That's how you walk away. That bullet. Right there. Should you choose to take it."

The man doesn't say a thing, his eyes fixed on me. We're silent for a long moment, nothing but the bitter thoughts in our heads to keep us company. Finally, though, I kick the gun away, shoving it to the side. "There have been many days in my life I've considered walking away like that, Chris. So fucking many I've lost count. Just like you, I've done a lot of shit I'm not proud of and turning back to face it sounds worse than even taking that bullet to my head, but I don't make excuses about it. I know I'm a shitty person, I know I've done horrible things that, more than likely, I'll pay for in some fucked up afterlife. I know my sins, Chris, and I don't hide from them."

"So why haven't you walked away?" It's not criticizing, it's curious.

Sucking in a breath, I speak, "Because I haven't finished what I've started."

He's quiet again, so am I, and we stare at each other for the longest time. He's analyzing me, gauging my words and their value to him. It feels odd being so honest, relating in such a human way with him and yet, I don't feel any other response would have been appropriate. I'm not sure what inspired me into taking up arms in this battle, and hell if I give a fuck at understanding it. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I know I can't stand the thought of him willingly trapping himself in the web the CIA Director has weaved. He's purposefully putting himself into a position that can only end badly for him.

I guess I just need him to know that—to know I'm worried as fuck about him making that decision.

I step forward, reaching the throne he's seated in. His eyes watch me carefully as I place my hands on the arm rests and put my weight against them, leaning down and taking his lips with mine. He doesn't resist, instead he kisses back, melting into it as we collide in a perfectly chaotic way. His hands grab at the hem of my pants, pulling me onto his lap to straddle him, arms wrapping around my waist as mine go around his shoulders, deepening our kiss.

His clothed need presses against mine as I begin grinding against him. He breaks the kiss to let out a breathy moan, my lips assaulting his jaw and neck. Chris' hands push my shirt aside, roaming up my back before dragging down with nailed tips. I hiss, pleasure mixing with the pain, and I nip at his ear lobe. "Fuck," he groans out, his hands wasting no time in brushing my skin with fire as they circle around to the front and take hold of my nipples. He twists them playfully, earning a moan from me.

I don't have time to play—I can't fucking take it. Working my shirt over my head, I expose my chest to him, the man wasting no time in sucking on my flesh with that sweet, sweet mouth. His tongue dances over me, causing me to grind harder, pant faster. He's loving the control he's got over me and I'm loving the fact that, for a single second, I can let him have that. As his mouth keeps me entertained, his hands go to my pants, quickly and efficiently undoing the button and zipper there to allow him access. A hot, needy groan escapes my lips as his fingers grace across my pulsing member. "Shit, Chris…" It feels so damn good.

Never missing a beat, he nips down on my nipple, eliciting a gasp from me as one hand wraps around my cock, pumping in time with my grinding. "Oh, shit…" is all I can manage at this point, his mouth and hand working me not unlike before. I can feel the need inside me building up but my body craves more friction, more pleasure, more pain.

Chris has the same thought because his mouth pops away from my nipple, exposing it to the cold air, and he says, "Get up." I comply, pushing off of him as he pulls himself free from the throne. I can see the bulge in his pants, see the way he desperately needs to be released. God, it's making me hornier than I realize. He wants me just like I want him. Fuck, that's hot.

With a sharp motion, he grabs my pants and yanks them down, shoving me face first into the seat of the throne. Ass in the air and at his command, with one hand he undoes his own entrapment and with the other, he begins penetrating me. One finger at first, slowly inching into my sore and bruised cavity. I bite my lip to keep from screaming at the intrusion, especially when he adds a second finger and begins scissoring. "Your ass…God…" Once his own pants have been removed, his other hand reaches to my cock, stroking it slowly. I can't hold back the throaty, desperate moan that his ministrations elicit, my body responding by gently thrusting into his hand again. "You really are a naughty boy, Cole."

He speeds up his hand job, working a bead of white to the tip of my dick. A hot coil grows inside my stomach as his fingers scrape against that wonderful spot inside of me. God, does he know how to pleasure someone.

He finally removes his fingers and pulls his other hand away from my swollen member. "I don't want you coming until I say so." He spanks me hard, causing me to wince. "You come prematurely and I'll make you pay." That's almost enticing enough to try. I mentally scold myself for being so eager, especially when it comes to sleeping with the enemy.

I can feel him line up with my entrance, shoving in quickly as I yelp in pain and surprise. He's completely sheathed inside of me, hitting the bruises he left behind last time he was there. I groan as he moves around slowly, scraping against my prostate and making my dick twitch. God, it feels so fucking good. "Ready, bitch?'

"Yes, master." It's vile on my tongue and I love it.

Without warning, he pulls out and rams into me, stretching me once again. I give off a shout, unable to hold back my pleas of pleasure any longer as he pounds into me, hitting that wonderful spot over and over, rougher and rougher. Stars dance across my vision, blinding me as I feel an orgasm approaching. He spanks me sharply, "Don't come until I say too, bitch."

God, fucking easier said than done.

His cock slides into me again, setting my entire body on fire, the coil inside of me threatening to release. His nails dig into my hips as he draws back again before shoving forward, filling me so fucking wonderfully to the brink. A few more times and I can't help it, cum shoots onto his throne, splattering against my legs as well. He doesn't stop assaulting my ass though, not until I've dripped every last bit of my seed. When he does pull free, though, I collapse into a seated position on the ground, resting my head against the seat of the throne, panting in breath after breath. "You disobeyed me." I glance towards him, the fatigue of going so fucking hard hitting me. His cock is standing perfectly erect, pre-cum gleaming on its tip. I shuffle over to him, doing exactly what he wants me to do.

Taking it into my mouth, I work my tongue over him, tasting that salty addiction as I swallow him deeper. He moans, thrusting into my mouth as his hands fist into my hair. He's wasting no time in getting to the deep throating and I relax my throat in kind to accept his generous girth. He pumps into my mouth with the same intensity and roughness as he did my ass. Squeezing my eyes shut, I brace myself against his legs as he goes to town. If possible, his erection gets bigger, the dick twitching in my mouth with anticipation. He's about to come and when he does, he shoots the load down my throat, before quickly pulling out and covering my face with the sticky white.

Hand going to his own dick, he pumps it some, emptying it into my open, receiving mouth before it finally wilts. "Jesus, Cole…" He's looking down at me—who's literally a hot mess—and smirks, "You look good with cum on your face."

I can't help but smirk at how absolutely stupid he sounds right now. "Yah?" He grabs my shirt collar and pulls me up, kissing me again passionately. It doesn't feel like the cheap, throw-away kiss you'd give a hooker at the end of a hook-up. It feels like the hot, emotional kind of kiss you'd give someone you really liked, someone who you fell for despite the fact you knew you shouldn't have.

When he pulls away, I look into his eyes, seeing that Chris, the one Claire's been missing. He's there before a devilish smirk crosses his face, then he's all animal again. Something stirs inside of me as he looks down at me with intent. "So, I still have to punish you for disobeying me."

There's a rational part of my brain that tells me what he's promising isn't a good thing nor something I really want, but the other part of me—the part that's swooning—is more than excited to get to the part where he's 'punishing' me for doing something that is completely natural and feels so damn good.

We separate, his body heat still lingering on me, and he gets himself dressed again. I do the same, though clumsily, as I'm still recovering from cumming so fucking hard. Chris' hand goes to the gun, taking it and checking the clip. "This is Vice's gun." He states.

"We might have had an altercation. Nothing I couldn't handle."

That devilish smirk crosses his face again, "Fuck, Cole, that's hot." He tucks it into his belt before turning towards me. I'm wiping my face with my jacket sleeve when he does, ridding it of the white cream. I eye him wearily, unsure what his intentions are. "Come on," he says, eyes growing dark with desire, "We're going to my room."