One month and a half ago

Wesker had purposively kept Jill in late at work to bring her back home that night. Delighted to spend the night with him, she had not envisioned that her partner had other kind of plans. As soon as he closed the door to her apartment, he could not resist bringing up the subject.

"When won't we have to deal with him anymore?" he asked seriously.

She sighed and closed her eyes slowly. "Not tonight, Christ…" she thought to herself.

"I don't know.", she said calmly.

"Will he be in the way forever?"

"I don't know.", she answered, still calmly.

"Have you ever considered the matter?"

"I don't know.", she finally answered shortly.

"Don't test my patience, Jill," he warned her.

Another sigh.

"You brought the matter at least fifteen times in the past… I'm just sick of having to deal with the subject."

"So am I," he answered calmly, but firmly.

She turned around to him and smiled sarcastically. She hated it, he was so calm, emotionless… Yet she was aggressive, impatient. She was sick of having the bad role…

"What do you want from me? I'm fucking you several times per week, shouldn't you be happy? I know many men that wouldn't complain about this situation!" she almost yelled, her patience completely running down.

He stared at her coldly.

"What is this implying exactly?" his gaze narrowed.

"It means I'm giving you my ass on a plate, so stop complaining."

"I am simply sick of having to share you," his tone was condescending, it infuriated her even more.

"You knew what to expect when you insisted to start this twisted relationship, you can't complain now."

"Maybe you think I'm going to be satisfied with the leftovers, Jill?"

"It used to satisfy you plenty enough!"

"It never did," his tone was amazingly annoying in her ear.

"Tough luck!" she spat at him, provoking him.

"She was lucky," he thought to himself. He would never let anyone else talk to him this way…

"I was only asking a question, Jill. Don't be such a short tempered woman," he said, insolent.

"Fuck you!" she spat in return, her blood boiling.

"I would suggest you to calm down with me, Miss Valentine," he ordered her calmly.

She chuckled. "Or what? Are you gonna hurt me, Albert?" she defied him, yelling.

He sighed, his patience at its limits. Impudent woman… After a few seconds staring at her, his composure suddenly relaxed, his gaze on her emotionless. He finally got away from her, walking in direction of the door.

"Where are you going? I'm not done with you yet!" she yelled.

He kept walking, ignoring her. She ran to him and grabbed his arm, pulling it violently.

"You stay here, do you hear me?" yelling furiously.

He turned around, only to look at her with the same look she served him. He looked like he was boiling.

"Oops, did I make the great Albert Wesker lose his calmness?" she provoked him, chuckling proudly.

He grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her closer to him. His other hand clenched. She pulled away, pushing him off. His hand tightened, tightened…

"I'm what again? Short tempered?" she asked, smiling proudly, her tone defiant, spitting her venom.

"You…" he hissed in between his teeth, wanting desperatly to make her pay.

They both panted heavily. He was so pissed… He grabbed her arm another time, his grip hurting her.

Then, suddenly, he started kissing her roughly. As if her whole body was disconnected from her head and conscious, she answered quickly, their kisses passionate, but painful.

He grabbed her roughly, pulling her up, transporting her. He did not even bother to get her in her room, instead, he reached for the first thing on his way : the table. He threw everything off of it with only one arm while the other one was holding her tightly to him, his lips firmly pressed to hers. He then sat her bluntly on top of the table, looking at her the same way the death sentenced prisoner looked at his last meal. He started ripping her clothes off of her, removing her underwear with only one hand, roughly snatching it. His mouth found her neck quickly, kissing it fiercely, hurting it in same time. But she did not care, she was so aroused, the desire overcame the pain. She fought to get everything off of him, her arms nervously removing his belt. He roughly shove her hands off, removing it himself, almost breaking the belt and his pants' zipper.

As soon as nothing was in his way anymore, he quickly thrust himself inside her, dominating her. She gasped and moaned loudly, almost screaming, her face showing pain and pleasure in same time. He was hardly leaned against the table with one arm, the violence of their passion disabling any sense of practiceness. His other arm gathered her, pulling her closer to him. She was sitting on the table, her legs wrapped around his waist, her butt on the border of the table, her head buried in his neck, her chest pressed against his. She pulled away only to look into his eyes, desire and frustrations both transpiring in their gaze. He thrust roughly, deeply, hardly. She moaned loudly, her whole body almost shaking. Sweat beads rolled down all over their body. Her hands cupped his face, her movements were rough. She brought his mouth to hers, their tongue almost collapsing into each other. She broke the kiss only to abruptly hold his head closer to hers. They both panted heavily, their heart pounding painfully from the demanding physical and psychological activity.

"Albert…"

"Jill…"

"Take me, Albert. Take me all…"

"Fuck Jill… You make me crazy…"

"I know…"

She brought his mouth to hers again. He finally released himself inside her, grunting loudly, calling her name. She had not come yet, so he pulled quickly, dropped to his knees and dipped his tongue in her wet sex. She gasped at the abrupt change of sensation, moaning violently. Her hands reached down, searching his. She finally found them, squeezing them hardly. She almost screamed, moaning his name loudly. She came quickly, his tongue savagely caressing her moist skin. As the rush of blood in her body quickly accelerated, she started twitching. He pined her hips down.

It was finally over, he laid his head on the table, in between her legs. They both panted heavily, suddenly feeling empty… He had lost control, so did she, and now it was over. They both got what they wanted, they would now have to deal with the situation… No one talked, no one moved, someone has to break the silence, but neither of them wanted to.

She was scared… so scared… She was going to get hurt, she could feel it… He was going to hurt her… Physically, mentally, she did not know yet… She just knew he was not the type of man she should had gotten attached to… He was too jealous… It hurt to love him… All of this reminded her her past too well…

It was the beginning of the end.