Chapter 16: Mine
Warning: This chapter contains lots of smut. You've been warned, m'kay? It's entirely out of my hands now :P
Okay, she knew her luck had taken a big dump recently, but this was ridiculous! If she thought the university job was difficult, she promptly changed her mind. That was a walk in the park compared to this. Claire stared at all the people. The exquisite party was happening at the ritzy Orient Restaurant on the second floor of the most luxurious hotel in the city, Central Hotel.
There had to be close to a hundred people here! The whole restaurant was closed to cater for the invitation-only event. Why did she even assume this "Christmas Party" was going to be just a group of rich, old dudes bragging all night? With how her luck has been, she should've known better!
Claire gaped at the man beside her who was unfortunately the closest thing she had to a friend at the moment. She recalled William's little "briefing" on the drive over here.
"The party's not gonna be that big. Just a simple "get in, get out". You'll be home in no time! Actually, you'll probably be at Al's home in no time!"
He was still rubbing his arm where she decked him.
"This is nothing like how you explained it!" she hissed.
But the mad scientist only half-heard her, his eyes lit up as though he was a kid about to enter his very first amusement park. Something in here was on his kill list because Claire overheard he wasn't a stranger to parties, at least not to parties like this that could get him something he wanted.
William was actually quite handsome all cleaned up in his suit. Claire had grown accustomed to his usual disheveled appearance that made him attractive in his own way.
He grinned slyly. "Oh relax, sweetheart. You'll be fine. Most of these people are total bores…losers just out trying to feel important. They got nothing on you!" He winked at her. "You know what to do, who to find. Ada's on your earpiece and Al and I are here to watch your back. Don't worry. Al definitely won't let you out of his sight. Just…don't distract him too much. I need him focused tonight."
"Are you fu-"
"Erica!" William nearly squealed, waving both arms and abruptly abandoning her. "Is that gown designed by Broca's aphasia? Because I'm speechless!"
Claire glared at the fickle bastard as he ditched her to join some other people standing around talking and drinking. She was on her own for now.
"Forget about him, Claire. Just focus on getting to Bennett. Best not drag this out longer than we have to and risk exposing ourselves," Ada said on her earpiece.
"Okay," she mumbled, and got into character, her natural Redfield bravado and assurance making it easy to stroll through the party like she owned the place.
It was a beautiful Asian restaurant. Most of the dark tables were accented with candles and glasses. The lounge-like chairs were colorful and comfy, and the tall ceilings gave way to soft LED string lights, oriental paintings and sectioned lattices. In warmer seasons, the same kind of setup could be seen on the massive balcony, but it was currently closed off.
She felt many eyes on her as she started her objective. But she only cared about one set of eyes as she discreetly scanned the place for them.
This many people here was both a blessing and a curse for her mission, and it could go either way real quick at any time. More people meant no room for mistakes, too many eyes. But on the other hand, this many people distracted amongst themselves could make it easy to get away with nearly anything.
Claire soon found the eyes she had been seeking, felt the familiar, pleasing burn on her skin they always caused. She traced them to an area with more people, where a grand, gold statue of Lord Yama sat. Directly in front of the god of death, Wesker was encircled by a small group, mostly beautiful women, and he charmed them effortlessly.
The younger Redfield had to keep herself from staring, also charmed by his chameleon smile, good looks, and striking black suit. Her nerves tingled from simmering blood. She couldn't believe it. She was actually jealous?! Claire was angry with herself. How could she possibly feel anything of the sort over the man that was blackmailing her?
Besides...she knew Wesker well enough by now to know that it was all pretense. She was sickened and enthralled by how easily he could deceive and influence people. Ada was right. His calculating mind, his clever tongue, those were his deadliest weapons; not his hands, not his gun.
The statue of Yama was simply a backdrop to the true god of death in the room. His admirers probably had no clue and listened intently. The women batted their eyes, pushed out their chests, even the ones who had dates. And those men did nothing about it, perhaps too enthralled themselves or maybe it was the fact that Wesker had an uncanny ability to make most men around him submissive.
He may have looked like he was paying attention to them, his eyes concealed behind black shades, but Claire knew he was watching her. All of her. Every breath, every step, he was in complete tune. Something about that lit a fire in her belly so fierce, she trembled.
The jealousy she felt instantly crumbled. It didn't matter if those women were rich or prettier or dressed in nicer dresses. They meant nothing to him. Not like she did.
And why was that, exactly?
Claire frowned, faltering mid-step, eyes still locked on Wesker across the room when she should've been moving on. She had some suspicions, if her gut and Ada and William were anything to go by.
More importantly, why do you care?
"Claire?! Earth to Claire, hello?"
"Huh?"
"You aren't exactly being inconspicuous staying in one spot drooling over Albert."
Claire's face flushed and she briskly walked away with a huff. "I'm not drooling!"
The first place she needed to check for her target would be the bar. Typical. It was in the back of the restaurant, low-lit, a massive, semi-circled bar with a marble countertop up against an airbrushed wall depicting a dragon floating through the clouds.
"Whatever you say, hun."
Claire bit her tongue, taking a deep breath. "I was just happy to see him chatting up other women. Less problems for me."
Ada sighed. "Claire, fishing is beneath you. First, they aren't his type. More importantly, Albert detests easy women."
That wasn't her intention. "I wasn't-"
"Unfortunately and fortunately for you, you are his type and are as difficult as they come. I probably shouldn't be saying this, but you're as close to obsession as he's going to get romantically."
The only fortune she could come up with was that it was unlikely Wesker would kill her. But obsession through people with sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies like Wesker were never a good thing. Her life might be spared at the end of all this...but at what cost?
Claire briskly pushed that thought aside, something cold and heavy dropping in the pit of her stomach. She needed to focus on finding Bennett and getting this over with. That was her excuse. After all, she wasn't ready to acknowledge that her own growing infatuation would likely veer her into her captor's arms for good.
She looked around the bar area. There were all kinds of high-status people attending Bard's Christmas party. Doctors, politicians, city officials, even Mayor Warren and Chief Irons were here.
She recognized Mueller from Raccoon University having a casual conversation with the man that had to be her target. A picture was never granted, but a detailed description allowed her to quickly analyze him. It had to be him. Tall, average build, auburn hair and an anchor beard. He chatted with Mueller with a drink in his hand.
Just as Claire stepped their way, a strong grip snatched her wrist. She was spun around, coming face-to-face with Nathaniel Bard. He looked fine since the anaphylaxis she put him through with the shrimp, but the creep wasn't happy one bit with her, still keeping a painful grip on her arm.
"I knew I'd see your face again, girl. What happened at the university is all your fault."
Claire glared at him. "You're gonna be hurting more if you don't let me go right now."
The music and all the guests chatting around them helped conceal her threat from eavesdropping ears but the Spencer Memorial doctor heard her clearly.
He considered challenging her, lips pursing, but soon let her go after his eyes scanned the numerous faces within the party. "I know you're working with those two bastards. You have no idea how much harm you've caused me and several of my colleagues. Lowery was a good man, understand? He had a family. And now I'm trapped doing those two psychos' bidding."
"Maybe you aren't the only one who is trapped."
"Well then there's more to your pretty face, isn't there? They wouldn't risk it otherwise."
Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Claire clenched a fist, as it took all of her willpower not to break his damn nose. She had a job to do here. If she caused a scene in the middle of this party, especially with the man hosting it, then she could kiss her freedom and potentially Chris's life goodbye.
She did let him in on what he was narrowly missing out on by grabbing his hand and twisting it slightly, squeezing hard on a pressure point. Just enough to make it really hurt, just enough to get her point across while looking like she was just holding his hand to nearly everyone else. "If my life didn't hinge on fulfilling this job, you'd be on the floor with a broken fucking face, do you understand me?"
"Damn, Claire. I like your style," Ada chimed in.
The younger Redfield ignored her and smiled, showing the guests they were having a pleasant conversation. Bard hissed in pain, quickly nodding. Claire released him and he jerked his hand away, shaking it off with a grimace.
"Listen, I'll make the job easy for you. Just...do what you need to do and get out of here. Take those assholes with you. And never show your face at one of my social events ever again."
"I'd love to, but it's not my call. But...I have a feeling you know exactly who you can talk to about that."
Bard scowled, rubbing his injured hand. He muttered something under his breath and motioned her to follow him, heading towards Bennett and Mueller in the back of the bar. "C'mon, and follow my lead."
"Ugh, he better not screw this up."
Bard put on a welcoming smile once they reached Mueller and Bennett's table. Mueller recognized her, but didn't say anything. She barely got a moment's glare from him before he flashed Bard a guarded look, as if asking "what are you up to now?" The two men stood and the doctor shook their hands.
"Mr. Bennett! I trust you are enjoying the party? What kind of host would I be if I was neglecting my honored guest?"
He looked to be in his thirties maybe. His smile was warm as he nodded. He noticed Claire nearly right away, and there was a definite reaction of some kind. Attraction, she guessed, immediate infatuation. Great…
"Oh yes," he said in a European accent. "I am grateful to you and Greg's hospitality. You've made being so far from home much more bearable."
"Good, good! It's a shame your business partner couldn't join us this evening. But I'm sure he had his reasons. You two are busy men, after all!"
Bennett nodded, composed yet amiable. "That we are. I'm sorry, but I have to ask, who is this beautiful young lady you have with you?"
Bard didn't skip a beat in his front, presenting her with a grin like she was a piece of treasure up for auction.
"I know, stunning right? This is Elza. She's one of my...assistants."
The European man held out his hand with a handsome, friendly smile. It could've fooled anyone, and it almost fooled her. But her gut constricted at the last moment, her first indication something wasn't right about this guy.
He took her hand and kissed it softly. "It is my utmost pleasure, Miss Elza. I'm Stephan Bennett. Please, just call me Stephan."
Claire put on the sweetest smile she could muster, batting her lashes. "The pleasure's all mine, Stephan."
He looked her over, and although he was an attractive man, it made her skin crawl.
"Has Greg taken you up to your suite yet?" Bard asked cordially. "I've left you a little treat as a thank you for choosing to stay the night in Raccoon City's famous Central Hotel!"
Bennett ripped his eyes from Claire and shook his head at the host. "No, sir. I got the keycard to the room earlier, but wanted to check out the party before retreating for the night." He presented a friendly, almost sheepish smile. "Honestly, I'm still a little messed up with the time zone changes. I didn't think it would affect me this much."
"That's not a problem. My assistant and I will escort you up there. There's a little bit of business I'd like to discuss with you anyway," Bard replied.
"What about your party?"
"Eh, they'll entertain themselves! Greg will take care of things while I'm gone. It won't be but a few minutes." Bennett glanced at Claire, expression unreadable, and Bard quickly added. "My assistant is completely trustworthy, don't worry. She knows about our research."
Bennett nodded, relieved. "Alright, lead the way, Nathaniel."
Claire was uncertain what to do as Mueller shook hands with Bennett and bid them good night before heading for the bar. Her job was to stick a bug on the European businessman, probably so Wesker and William could track him straight to Aaron Roth. Leaving the party just tossed her whole plan into the garbage. This just got way riskier.
Nothing like winging a mission where my life's literally at stake. What's the worst that can happen?
"Great," Ada whispered in her ear, not helping Claire's gut feeling. "Wesker's watching and listening through your piece. He says it's fine. Just get that bug on Bennett without him knowing."
Was that supposed to make her feel better that Wesker said it was fine? And how exactly was he able to do that anyway? That just made her earlier conversation with Ada a lot more awkward...
With a slight tick of her jaw, Claire composed herself with a friendly smile and followed the two men out of the restaurant and into the fancy, historical hotel.
They went to the lobby, a grand room with high ceilings, bright lights, and expensive carpet and decor. The elevator ride to the fifth floor seemed extra crowded, even though there were just three of them. Bard and Bennett chatted normally about their lives and careers. Claire didn't like the frequent glances Bennett gave her. She waited for an opportunity, stayed vigilant with that inkling sprouting in her gut.
It got worse when Ada told her she lost visual on her from their location.
Wesker's making you do this alone because he wants to see how you do, said a small voice in the back of her head. She didn't have proof, but she wouldn't put it past him.
She gave vague answers when Bennett asked her something, either curious and flirting or digging and deceiving. She wasn't exactly sure.
Bennett scanned his card and held the door open to the big, two-bedroom suite. Bard strolled right on in but Claire hesitated, not wanting to put her back to these men. When she did, she felt his eyes all over her, and when he closed the door, he purposely brushed her to get by.
They stepped into the spacious living room first, accented with a bar and impressive kitchen. There was a home theater set up in the den, opposite a wall of glass that displayed downtown Raccoon City. Dark buildings silhouetted within soft glows of lights of all colors. Speckles of white rained down softly outside.
"You meant it when you said this suite had a view," Bennett stated, drawn to the panorama.
Bard gave her a look, dipped his head in the direction of his "guest", as if urging her to get her business done. Claire glared at him as he turned off to the bar instead.
"Yes, I did! And over here, something just for you, Mr. Bennett. Your favorite wine. All the way from home!"
"I don't like this. Are you okay? Cough if you are."
"How thoughtful of you, Dr. Bard. Thank you. You've gone out of your way to make me feel at home here."
Claire didn't like it either. She looked around, keeping up her appearance as she joined the men at the bar. She didn't see any danger, but something like it was lurking about. Whatever it was, she was fine for now.
She coughed. "Oh, excuse me."
Bennett watched her more than Bard, but she still couldn't read his expression. Bard took the fancy bottle out of the container of ice. "Shall we have a glass while we talk?"
"Yes. I'd like that."
That clicked an idea in her brain. Claire put a hand on Bard's arm, mustering up the realest fake friendly smile she could handle, looking between the two men under thick lashes. "How about you gentlemen take a seat, get comfortable? Let me serve you."
Bennett's smile held something darker, but it was gone in a flash. Bard looked at her funny, but composed himself and slowly put the wine down on the counter. "Of course, Elza! You're always the sweetest thing! Come, Stephan, over here."
"What do you have planned, exactly?" Ada asked. "Ugh, I hate going by sound alone."
Her cohorts had lied to her, she realized. William promised Wesker wouldn't let her out of his sight and Ada said she would watch over her. Wesker didn't say much to her before the party, but disclosed if she did what she was told, she would be fine. She was alone here and certainly felt something other than "fine" was coming her way.
The doctor and his guest went to the lounge chairs nearby, sitting across from each other. It was the perfect way for Claire to bug Bennett without him knowing. She opened the white wine and poured their glasses, giving them time to get settled in their seats and start talking. The more distracted they were, the better. It also gave her a moment to get the tiny tracking device ready.
The younger Redfield served Bennett first. She caressed her fingers up his arm, across his shoulder, stopped at the back of his neck, squeezing his collar gently. Her flirtatious smile was enough to distract him from Bard when she handed him his drink. She didn't remain long, crossing to Bard and giving him his drink with the same smile, the same caress that made her skin crawl. She left them and returned to the bar, gathering up the wine bottle and ice bucket and placing them on the table in between the two men.
Claire eavesdropped on their conversation, but a lot of it made no sense to her. Big research, Sheena and Rockfort Island, Roth, Ashfords, prototypes, T-series. All similar topics that Wesker and William discussed and were involved with.
"You know, it's strange how all of our business associates keep coming up dead or missing since we've been in town," Bennett said after a long sip of his wine.
Bard grew quiet, confused, his fingers clenching around his wine glass. "What…do you mean?"
The European man looked at Claire, like he knew all of her secrets, not near as charming now. "You know what happened to them...don't you, Miss Walker? Or should I call you Miss Redfield?"
Claire stiffened, nails digging into the chair arms. She dared not blink, glaring at him, keeping calm, but reeling underneath on how to react. He knew her name. Her real name.
Shit!
"Shit!" Ada echoed in her ear. "Claire, don't do anything rash. Hang in there."
It wasn't as though she had much of a choice. She was on her own. Bard's alarmed face told her everything. He was just as surprised as her, but would be too much of a coward to help her.
Claire took a deep breath. "I don't know what happened to them."
"I think Dr. Lowery would say otherwise."
"How do you know my real name?"
The European businessman crossed one leg casually, swishing the wine in his glass, sharp eyes on her. "All it took was a little digging. You really shouldn't use your mother's maiden name as an alias, darling. Especially one as unique as hers."
Cold steel bumped the back of her head. A gun.
Wesker had told her the same thing. Warned her.
She was careless to use it after not being prepared at the university. Now she was in real danger. The other wolves that Wesker claimed he was protecting her from had stalked her right into a corner. Then again, maybe he wasn't expecting this pack. Or maybe he had and was ready to give her up as tribute for his own motives…
"Uh, Stephan, what's going on, is t-this necessary?" Bard asked.
"Quiet, or you'll have one to your head also." Bennett motioned for Claire to stand. "My business partner, Aaron, would like to speak to you one-on-one, Miss Redfield. You have the time, right? You can help fill the gaps on what's been happening to our dealings. We're getting warm, but it seems as though everyone is too afraid to give us answers. Whoever you're working for, we'll cut you a nice deal if you expose them."
Claire kept his gaze, defiant, silent. She had no choice but to comply. She had no weapons on her, no way to hide one in this dress. She slowly moved her hands down to her sides, preparing to push herself up, and felt it. The cold, metal coil of a corkscrew. She forgot she had brought it with her while serving the drinks.
Snatching it up between her fingers, she stood. The man who had the gun to her head pulled her out away from the chair. Bennett rose from his seat, finishing his drink and setting the empty glass down.
Bard shot up as well, looking between Claire and his guest, panicking. "Wh-What are you doing?"
There were two other men in suits now. They must've been hiding in the suite this whole time. Although they didn't have weapons drawn, they were probably packing like the one behind her.
"Nathaniel, lying to me that she is your assistant? After what happened to Simon, I'm shocked. Someone's got you cowering and afraid, just like Greg. Just like our friend the Police Chief."
"I-It's n-not what you think."
Bennett nodded to the other men. They grabbed Bard by the arms, containing him. The European man pulled a gun equipped with a silencer from his suit jacket.
The doctor fought his captors. "Wait! No!"
Claire stabbed the man behind her in the groin with the corkscrew. He cried out as she spun, disarming him and shoving him away where he tumbled to the floor. She grabbed the bottle of wine and threw it at Bennett's head just as he switched his gun on her. The bottle shattered on his face.
She didn't get far with running. Not in that dress, not in those heels, before she was snatched by his men. A bash above her temple instantly made the world spin. Still, she fought, as weak as she suddenly felt.
Bennett was soaked, his face earning a few gashes from broken glass, blood mixing with golden-colored wine. He cursed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He grabbed her neck, squeezing hard.
"You bitch! Just you wait. After Aaron's done with you, you're gonna be my new pretty little play thing!"
That's when his arm snapped. Like a twig. He screamed. Claire, her vision still hazy from the blow to her head, realized he was attacked. His men were attacked; she was let go. A few blinks and she saw Wesker using some sort of martial arts to swiftly dispose of them. Not Bennett though. He raced away to his escape while holding his limp arm that flopped uselessly as he ran.
The STARS Captain had killed the other three. In seconds. With his hands. He paused, looking to the door where Bennett had fled, as if deciding whether to pursue him. He was over it in seconds though, grabbing her and pulling her to him. Not as rough as she had expected, but gentle wasn't really in his nature.
"Hold still," he commanded. She felt his hand on her head. He must've been examining the clout she had received. "Are you alright?"
There was some blood on his hand when he withdrew it, and she felt it trickling in her hair. It must've been just a small cut, otherwise it would've been all over her face by now.
"Yeah," she said. And she was. It had only made her light-headed for a minute or so.
The nearby chair squeaked as it scooted on the carpet, and a muffled curse came from the other side. Wesker finally looked away from her, jaw clenching. He marched over to the furniture and kicked it. The chair crashed and skidded several feet away. Wesker seized Bard by the collar and picked him up, slamming him into the nearby bar counter. The sound his body made hitting the granite countertop made her flinch, and Bard's yelp confirmed it.
"Wesker, wait, please! I d-didn't know! I didn't! I swear! He was gonna kill me too!"
"He was," Claire confirmed.
She had no idea why she defended the asshole, especially when he didn't offer her any help before. But she could tell he was telling the truth. Wesker paused, but didn't look at her, probably contemplating what to do with the doctor as he shuddered in his hands.
"Consider your...contract extended indefinitely," Wesker growled, and shoved him over the other side of the bar. He put a couple fingers up to his ear, the same hidden piece she had. "Ada, William, we're finished here. Ada, track Bennett. William, tell Irons he has a mess to clean up with Bard and Mueller."
Bard got to his feet, shaken, his surprised eyes finding hers. The younger Redfield glared at him, a silent message he understood. She had spared him a cruel fate from the Devil. But she wouldn't do it again.
She returned her gaze to the three bodies around her feet. The one she stabbed with the corkscrew had a snapped neck. The other two looked as though they had suddenly dropped dead, nothing to attribute to the hands of the STARS Captain. But she had seen it with her own eyes. And although it shouldn't have, it lit a fierce fire in her lower belly, spreading when his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her towards the door.
The flames were fanned when he whispered in her ear, his hand squeezing her hip. "You did exceptionally well, dear heart. You make me proud."
When Ada told her Wesker would want to take her home after seeing her in her dress, she had denied wanting him to, denied she wanted to go home with him willingly. But after what she saw, how he held her close to him like she was his, and his alone, how his breath upon her ear titillated her, made her receptive to him only, she could no longer deny it.
Claire wouldn't be able to stand the drive there. She wanted him. Wanted him to take her. She was a liar; it wasn't just a one-time fling or a mistake. It was going to happen again. And she wanted it to, and would do nothing to stop it.
It was the strangest silence. The tension could be cut with a knife. Claire could barely breathe, couldn't sit still. Wesker didn't say a word after they got into his car and drove away from the hotel, away from the party where, again, she had a close call with death. But the tension wasn't bad. Despite his silence, Wesker wasn't angry. Although something close to frustration simmered beneath his skin.
She had expected a monologue of their experience at the Christmas party, how she performed, something. It made her even more restless, but even with her quick wit and obstinate tongue, she didn't speak. What filled the car was purely natural, their responses instinctual. There was no denying what it was, especially when the Jaguar pulled into the garage of Wesker's house, and Claire's blood had suddenly boiled over, frothing in anticipation.
It was so hot in the car, so hot between her legs. She had to get out. The cold air was closed off when the garage door closed. They got out of the luxury sports car and Wesker unlocked the door to the house, holding it open for her.
His blue eyes were so beautiful. But they were also probably the most terrifying thing she knew, because she knew what reigned behind them. She didn't think they could get more bewitching than they already were, but keeping his gaze as she passed by him into the kitchen felt almost like a possession.
It shocked her to realize they hadn't spoken a word to each other since the hotel. The door shut behind her. Claire was trapped. But she wanted to be trapped here. She made one glance around the large, spotless kitchen made for an upper-class family, distracted, and turned to face him.
She opened her mouth to finally say something, even with her nerves buzzing and blood pounding, but didn't get a single word out before his lips claimed hers. Ardent, hungry, possessive. Claire's brain short-circuited and flipped straight to instinct, kissing him back, hard, just as hungry. Instantly, she forgot about the pain thumping on the top of her cranium.
His hands were already exploring her, groping, pulling her into him. It was nice to feel him under that expensive suit, his solid chest and pectorals, his hard abs. If she hadn't been drowning in desire and concerned with only him getting inside of her, she would've definitely appreciated to see him all.
Neither one of them were concerned with much else. Even Wesker, who was usually meticulous, who made sure he enjoyed every part of her the first time, was consumed by this raging fever. Claire couldn't see anything but fire, could only feel his hands tugging and squeezing her, reaching up under her dress to pull her panties down, his lips kissing her, sucking her, could only hear their strangled breaths. His fingers stroked and kneaded her clit, but she was already dripping wet.
She didn't even realize they had made it into the dining room before Wesker suddenly spun her around and bent her over the table. Claire spread her legs, the last rational brain cell abhorred that she had gone from fighting and denying him to needing him to take her, fill her, make her his.
Wesker plunged inside of her, rough, raring. He didn't take his time, let her adjust like before, but she didn't need him to, didn't want him to. Claire moaned when his hips bucked into her buttocks, pinning her against the table. She quivered under the aggressive thrusts of his cock, ramming her cervix, hitting her right where it counted.
One of his hands held her steady by the hip, the other stroked her slender, sweaty back, the most exposed her body was in that jade dress. His fingers tangled through her hair, clamped down on her nape, a low groan rumbling in his throat. She felt it too; it changed her panting into needy cries as each sharp thrust pushed her closer until it barreled her over the edge, the sweet release an explosion of pure ecstasy that poppled through her body. She squirmed under him, not caring how loud she moaned when his last few thrusts fought with her throbbing orgasm, squeezing around him. And he rode her all the way through it, keeping that pleasure afire, bearing down on her hard, until he came. Wesker's cum spewed inside her, coating her walls, saturating her.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, coming down from their gratifying high, catching their breaths. Rational thought returned to Claire as her brother's boss pulled out of her and brought them towels.
Claire's head spun as she straightened her dress, as though it mattered anymore. She ignored the warm liquid leaking between her thighs until she was able to wipe it away and pull her underwear up, fixing her dress, attempting to make it look as though she didn't just fuck Wesker a second time.
Whatever had come over them from the hotel and the drive to his house, it was subsiding, still there and prowling, but satisfied for now.
"Follow me," he stated calmly, as if he didn't just have her bent over.
Claire sighed and did as she was told. Now that she had time to realize what exactly she had done again once her breathing slowed, once her blood settled, her heart started racing again. She couldn't keep up with all the thoughts that flooded her mind, reminding her of the wallop instantly.
What was she thinking fucking her brother's boss again? Why couldn't she stop herself? Why didn't she want to?
What were they going to do now? Was he going to take her home? Would he keep her here? Oh god, what would they talk about?
He led her through the living room. His Doberman laid by the sofas, lifting his head and watching them stroll by. Odin got to his paws and stretched with a yawn and nearly barreled into Claire to get by her to greet his master. Wesker patted the dog on the head before he went upstairs. Claire, who couldn't hold a grudge on a dog, petted him before following the corrupt STARS Captain.
"I know I have that effect on women with making them speechless after sex, but it's rude to not answer someone when they are speaking to you."
The younger Redfield jumped out of her rampaging thoughts again. She glared up at him. Of all the things to say to her when she missed his question, that's what he chose?
Where even was she? A bathroom. A big, tasteful bathroom with a jacuzzi tub and a stand-in shower. Why did he bring her here? And why did he have to untie his tie and unbutton his jacket? That did not help her at all.
"Get over yourself. Seriously."
Her rising temper was challenged by his ever wicked smirk; dark, arrogant, but now with a dash of mischief solely for her. It was obvious he enjoyed riling her up and she just kept indulging him. That leer should've irked her further, like it usually did. But it didn't. It did the opposite. That fire revived like a phoenix in her stomach, in her loins.
No, no, no! She had to fight it!
"Is that all you've got to say? You're losing your edge, Claire. But you did have an exigent night, so it's only expected, I suppose."
"No thanks to you!"
Should she have even been smarting off to him? Claire watched the STARS Captain break one man's arm clean in half and kill three others in seconds with only his hands. Her stomach lurched thinking back on it now, just as it did when she pictured Finley's head exploding. Claire had never seen a person die right in front of her until that fateful day in the woods. And now she had seen a total of four people die, all caused by the man in front of her. And whatever happened to Lowery, she knew it was something worse.
On another note, Wesker may have put her in that situation with Bennett, but he didn't have to save her either. Maybe he did it to protect himself, to make sure Roth didn't use her to expose him. But Claire suspected it was more than that, even if he would never admit it.
Wesker chuckled, stepping away from her to pull out a first aid kit from one of the bathroom cabinets and sat it on the sink vanity. He opened it up and grabbed some supplies.
"I do quite enjoy that Redfield temper in you, my dear. It can be irritating with Chris. But you…"
He clasped her chin. Her first reaction was to fight, flinch, expecting something terrible from the hands that killed those men and fractured Bennett's arm. But nothing terrible happened. He turned her head gently, and then she felt the soft, cold dab of something above her temple.
"Are you experiencing any dizziness? Any blurry vision? Bothered by light?"
"No."
She relaxed, leaning more into him, inhaling the soft traces of his cologne as he cleaned the cut. She didn't realize how much it hurt until now. She looked in the mirror, trying to see it, blushing at how close she was to him. She could see the small bump on her head from the blow, the stock of a gun, probably.
"I knew you were hard-headed, dear heart, but you impress me. A blow like that could've easily given even a man twice your size a concussion."
"If you've ever seen Chris drunk and do some of the stunts he's pulled, you know he's got the harder head, literally and figuratively," Claire joked, the only way her brain knew how to respond in this predicament.
"I beg to differ."
That's when it really hit Claire. She could've been killed there. She could've been taken away to that Roth guy and likely never seen again. They knew her real identity. Which meant they knew Chris's as well.
"I-I have to call Chris, warn him. They know who I am. They might go after him. They might retaliate over what happened tonight by hurting him."
She expected him to chastise her and say he was right, but didn't care. She had just put her brother into even more harm's way.
Wesker didn't say anything at first, checking over her knot, before stepping back and disposing the sterile gauze in the trash bin. "They won't waste their time with Chris. They won't risk it. They know you're just a pawn. He's perfectly safe, especially considering he is working tonight. Roth and Bennett just want you, and you are safe here with me."
Just a pawn…
She didn't want to admit that hurt her and glared at him. "Oh, how convenient for you that you had to bring me home to protect me, considering you were going to bring me here anyway to get into my pants!"
She wasn't actually wearing pants, but she made her point.
"And you're going to pretend you didn't want me to?"
Claire couldn't come up with anything to say to that, to defend herself. Agitated, she could only glare at him, because he was fucking right. The satisfied smirk he gave her luckily only lasted a few moments before he turned away to put up the first aid kit.
"You have my word Chris will be safe, dear heart. Now, how about you relax and take a shower or a bath, if you'd like? Just be sure you don't allow the water to fall directly on that swelling."
Begrudgingly defeated for now, she sighed. "And what exactly am I supposed to wear when I'm done?"
"Clothes," he mocked. "I'll fetch some."
She glared at his back as he left the bathroom. Claire looked between the shower and jacuzzi tub. The shower would be better; in and out and wouldn't feel like she was giving in to Wesker even more somehow. But the jacuzzi tub was so inviting, especially after her night so far. A nice soak would get her nerves and her head straight.
"Indecisive?"
She jumped. Why was he so damn sneaky? Or perhaps she needed to stop dwelling in her own thoughts and be more aware of her surroundings.
"No," she lied. "I'm just waiting for you to drop off the clothes before I start."
"Why Claire, it isn't anything I haven't seen before," he teased and held out the folded clothes to her.
Her glare only made his smirk darken when she snatched up the clothes and looked them over. They were women's nightwear. A pair of burgundy pants and a matching v-neck t-shirt.
"Oh, so you keep women's clothing here for all of your scores?" she snarked.
"No need to be jealous, dear heart. They're Annette's. She, William, and Sherry stay here at times. You're both similar in size, they should fit. Although I must say, you do have the much more desirable...figure."
Well, it was better than nothing. Better than going naked or wearing the dress again, or even worse, wearing Wesker's clothes.
"Thanks."
He nodded, leaving her side for the door. "I mean it. Keep your head out of the water as much as possible."
Claire didn't know why, but that made her smile. Then the bathroom door shut.
Claire couldn't believe how weak she was. She should've been able to resist it! To her, she just gave in to Wesker even more. But it was the best jacuzzi tub she had ever been in. It was like she was taking a bath in the holy grail of bathtubs. She couldn't remember the last time she enjoyed a bath so much. The tubs in Chris's house were small and dinky. And she didn't even want to think about the tub that lacked in her college dorm out of town.
She finally dragged herself out after she was as pruned as she could stand. She changed into the clothes Wesker brought her and left downstairs feeling refreshed.
The younger Redfield could hear Wesker speaking, and for a moment, wondered if someone else was here. She briefly thought of William stopping by just to gloat about Wesker taking her home. But as she made her way through the living room and into the kitchen, she saw he was on the phone, propping it with his shoulder. By how he talked, it was someone he knew well.
The kitchen smelled amazing. Her belly groaned in hunger. Wesker noticed her while cleaning up whatever he had cooked, still dressed in his suit, but now with the tie and jacket missing and his shirt halfway unbuttoned.
"Hold that thought, dear sister," and covered the speaker of the phone. "Enjoy your bath, hmm, dear heart?" His head dipped towards the dining room. "Your dinner is in there. Should still be warm. I will be with you momentarily."
He went back to talking on the phone; his sister apparently. The one he briefly mentioned to her not long ago. Claire tried to listen in, but not much was said. She wondered if his sister knew him like how most people knew him, or if she knew how he truly was. Were they close? What did they talk about? Did they pester each other like she and Chris did? As attractive as Wesker was, she was certain his sister was gorgeous.
She sat down at the table in the dining room, nearby where Wesker had her bent over earlier. She flushed, trying to bury those thoughts. Her plate was ready with silverware, a cloth napkin, even a glass of red wine. The meal was chicken breast and asparagus sauteed in a creamy, yummy smelling sauce. Simple, healthy.
Claire was so hungry, she dug right in. She didn't even realize how famished she was after her long night until the food was in front of her. As she ate, she tried to eavesdrop more on Wesker's phone conversation, but apparently his sister was doing most of the talking.
The Redfield sister was finished with her plate and steadily drinking her wine when Wesker entered the dining room. Odin's nails clicked on the wood floor following in behind him.
"You were hungry," Wesker stated simply. "Do you need more?" He checked her bump over again, probably making sure she had done what she was told.
She quickly shook her head when he was done. "No. Thank you."
She stood and picked up her dishes. Wesker tugged at his cuffs while glancing at his watch, rolling his neck. It took all the effort she could muster not to stare, feeling a different kind of hunger stirring once more.
"Go ahead and put your dishes in the dishwasher. I left the wine out in case you want more. I'm going to take a shower. Make yourself at home, dear heart, but please refrain from scouring my hard-earned domicile for items of interest to serve you. You won't find them here."
As if she needed a reminder after what happened the last time after breaking into his house. Her eyes went to Odin, big brown eyes staring at her, licking his chops as though he expected something from her empty plate.
"Yeah, I remember what happened last time. I'm good."
"I won't be long," the STARS Captain said, and turned to his dog, pointing at him. Odin stared up at him intently. "Watch."
It was the same order he had given the dog before, apparently to keep an eye on her. The Doberman only snorted in reply before Wesker left them to go upstairs. Claire went to the kitchen and rinsed her dishes off and put them in the dishwasher. She poured herself more wine and went to the living room to sit down, Odin hot on her heels.
Sipping on the dark red beverage, letting it settle her nerves, Claire was mostly lost in her own thoughts. Odin kept his focus on her. His ears twitched or rotated to listen to noises she couldn't hear, but his eyes never left her.
"It's rude to stare," she told him, despite the dog following his master's order.
The Doberman finally sat down nearby, grunting in response.
He seems way more intelligent than the average dog.
He even looked a bit different than most Dobermans she's seen, even the ones used as police K9s at the RPD. He was definitely a European Doberman while the police K9s were American Dobermans, but that wasn't quite all of it either. She just couldn't put her money on it.
Odin let her pet him, but didn't do much else besides watch her. Claire looked around, tempted to explore the house again, but not willing to take the risk. She wondered what Chris and the others were up to at work. Hopefully they were all doing well and Chris wasn't worrying about her babysitting Sherry at the Birkins' house, because she was most definitely not doing that…
She still couldn't believe it was Wesker who got Chris off her back with his suspicions and didn't kill him over it either. Truthfully, she wanted to ask him about it...
"Maybe you did hit your head harder than I thought. You're actually staying out of trouble."
Claire looked up as Wesker descended the stairs and she almost choked on her wine. He was completely shirtless now, only wearing black pants. She inwardly cursed, looking away, focusing on her wine instead. She was suddenly hot. And tipsy! Why did she drink the wine? The wine was a trap!
"You're uncharacteristically quiet," Wesker added, sitting down beside her, a whiff of his body wash stimulating her nose.
"It's the bump. I have a headache. Think I need to go lay down," Claire lamely lied.
Why was she panicking inside? She had already had sex with this man twice. What could she be possibly worried about at this point? She knew it was wrong. It was dangerous and risky, in more ways than one. But that didn't stop her before, and wouldn't now.
Just by seeing his naked upper half, recalling what had just happened earlier so heatedly, still infused with his last load, she wanted him again. So while her rationality deflated, it was replaced by warring emotions. Desires versus fears, caution versus recklessness. She was supposed to hate this man, and should've been fighting him, refusing him. She feared she would develop emotional attachment. That was bad enough. Worse yet, what if William and Ada were right? What if Wesker's infatuation of her turned into obsession?
That was dangerous for her. Dangerous for the people around her. As controlling and manipulative as he was, if Wesker got it in his head that Claire was his, there went her freedom. And Claire was only risking that happening by allowing him to have her over and over again.
Wesker saw right through her lie. He didn't confront her about it though and shrugged, getting to his feet. "It is quite late. We should get some rest. I'll show you to your room."
"Okay…" she followed behind him, relieved but also disappointed.
He took her to a closed door not far from the master bedroom. Wesker opened the bedroom door for her, turning on the light and bringing her inside. The tidy room consisted of a full-sized bed with a nightstand on each side, and a dresser.
I wonder if this is where the Birkins sleep when they stay?
"Here you are. Can I get you anything?"
"No, I'm fine. Thanks."
"Very well. Should you need anything, I'm just next door."
"Okay."
"Good night, dear heart."
Wesker turned and left. Claire was surprised, as if expecting him to try something. Tempt her, seduce her, even just mock her. She thought it over quickly. Earlier, what they both felt radiated between them. It was a need, consuming and passionate. A couple of days ago Wesker had surely seduced her, but she still had the same feelings, the same desire, as much as she tried to deny them.
It was the strangest realization to her that by simply walking away, Wesker was showing he actually cared about her in some way. Practically a grand gesture for a man like him, and something he could easily refute or extenuate.
Claire was still no William at reading Wesker, but she was starting to get an understanding on how he ticked.
"Wait," she whispered.
He paused in the threshold of the bedroom, head slightly turned to listen, waiting. Claire mustered up the courage to ask something that had been bothering her since they left the party. Afraid of what he might say. Afraid of what it would mean.
"Why did you risk exposing yourself? You could have let that Bennett guy take me to Roth. That's all it would've taken for you to get to him. That's what you want, right? Now Bennett's seen your face. I'm not sure if he or Roth knows you personally, but it's definitely put you at a disadvantage. I'm just a pawn, remember? Letting him take me would've been the better move for you."
Wesker faced her, his blue-grey eyes piercing but he wasn't exactly mad or annoyed. His muscular forearms, eye candy to her, twitched when he flexed his hands. He seemed to think something over before his lips barely quirked. "You are too clever and perceptive for your own good, Claire."
He walked straight up to her, their bodies separated by only an inch. "You're right, I should have let Bennett take you. It was a risk. Roth does know who I am. You never would've been seen again, but I would've had him where I wanted. Ultimately, it would have cut the Gordian knot that you both are."
Claire narrowed her eyes at him. "So why didn't you?"
Wesker shrugged, expressionless. "An open challenge to Roth. To make a point."
"Liar."
The sardonic smirk she got had her thinking she misjudged. Wesker's hollow chuckle daunted her, especially when his hand clasped around her neck, similar to Bennett earlier, only a little less pressure. She could still breathe, but seeing personally what he could do with those hands filled her with a lot more fear than Bennett had.
"Not good enough for you? What would you prefer me to say, Claire? Hmm? That I couldn't stand how he was looking at you? How he touched you? That the only reason I didn't give him a slow, agonizing death after harming you was because I needed him alive? Is that what you want to hear?"
"Depends," she hissed, his fingers threatening to shut off her air supply. "Which one is the truth?"
There was a long silence as they glared at each other. Claire didn't give, not even an inch, her hands not even close to enclosing his muscular forearm that kept her in place. He finally let her go. But just as her brain registered that, he kissed her hard. It was almost an instant replay of when they first entered his house. If that was Wesker's answer, Claire had no problem figuring out which one of the two, if not both, were true then. It made sense with Wesker's underlying frustration after the party and their near urgent need to fuck as soon as they stepped into the house.
Claire eagerly kissed him back, pulling in closer, fondling his exposed skin all over his lithe, muscular frame. Their short session of insatiable tongue kissing ended only when the STARS Captain bent further, pecking and nipping her neck, his hands roaming her body, up her shirt, down her pants. She was so wrapped up in lust there was nothing left of her addled brain to remind him not to leave any marks. And maybe she didn't care. Because he surely didn't.
Her first loud moan from him sucking on her throat and he reacted almost immediately by picking her up. The younger Redfield wrapped her arms around his neck, enclosed her legs around his waist instinctively.
It wasn't but a moment before he nearly tossed her onto his perfectly made bed, his large bedroom only lit by a single lamp. She could really smell him in here, the remnants of his hot shower that lingered from the nearby master bathroom and that turned her on even more.
Somewhere in the mix of them making out on the bed, him nearly on top of her, Claire stripped her shirt and he ripped off her pants. The sensual foreplay primed her body, her mind, and she reacted anxiously to his hands, his lips, the way his hips grinded into hers.
She writhed under Wesker as he kissed and groped all of her, sucking, biting, moving lower and lower until he pulled her panties off and tossed them like he did her borrowed pants.
Claire gasped, fingers clenching the sheets. She never would've guessed over a week ago stepping off that bus she would eventually be here at her brother's boss's house, on his bed legs spread wide open, with him eating her out. She never would've guessed she was about to have sex with him a third time just after witnessing him kill three men with his bare hands either.
It was still so much to process even though her brain absolutely couldn't think right now, lost in this blissful moment, willingly engaging in something so wrong, so dangerous. His tongue made short work of her, lapping, twisting, sucking before he drowned her in sudden euphoria while also drowning any sensible thought she might have had left.
Wesker was back on top of her soon after stripping, kissing her with lips soaked with her own fluids, pinning her beneath him. Her body reacted instinctually, trembling excitedly from his weight pressing down on her. It was something she had secretly fantasized about recently, now coming true. And now with him kneading one breast in one hand and suckling the other, his hard-on prodding her inner thigh, she couldn't stand it anymore.
"Albert," she rasped, grabbing his dick and stroking it, like a hot iron in her hands. Her mind was so foggy from lust, she didn't even realize she had called him by his first name. For the first time. "I need you inside me. Now."
His low chuckle made Claire quiver. "Impatient as always. Aren't you forgetting something?"
She refused to say it, eyes opening just enough to glare at him. Wesker wasn't fazed. He pushed two fingers up inside of her and pumped in and out, toying with her, teasing her. Claire couldn't contain her groan of frustration when he pulled out of her just after giving her a short, sweet taste.
"Fuck, alright! Please. Please take me, Albert."
It was apparently all he needed to hear, reacting greedily, and didn't even have anything mocking to say to her near begging. Claire moaned whenever his cock penetrated her once again, the new angle amazing, especially with his weight pushing back down on her again, pinning her completely under him. Even Wesker groaned when he started thrusting into her hard.
Claire tilted her hips up so he could plunge deeper, snaking her legs around his waist. His hands entrapped her wrists, keeping them in place above her head. She didn't fight it as much as she thought she would, but she wasn't surprised by it, considering how controlling he always was. All that was left was her to enjoy everything she was feeling. His powerful strokes, his teeth and lips buried in her neck. She felt the pleasure growing within her, around their moans and panting, the squeaking of the bed under their tangled bodies. She actually didn't want this to end.
Claire wriggled underneath his weight, whining, unable to move her pinned arms until he suddenly moved his. One went straight to her clit, kneading, rubbing as he continued to ram into her over and over, to the hilt. His other hand went under her ass, lifting her off the bed for deeper access, holding her in place easily.
Her freed arms immediately went around his back. In just a few more hard, deep strokes, Claire felt the most intense orgasm she had ever felt, like a rupturing dam within her. She cried out, bit her nails into his skin, screaming his name, stars behind her eyes, warmth and pure ecstasy flooding her bloodstream, lighting her nerves on fire.
Her pulsating canal squeezed around his twitching dick. Her captor-turned-lover emitted a husky growl, muttering into her ear but she was too high to register it. For the second time that night, Wesker came inside her, his hot seed filling her.
Claire was breathless, shivering underneath him, still reeling over the euphoria that bubbled throughout her body. She could hear his heartbeat pounding like hers. In the bliss she was feeling in her recovery, her brain finally registered what he had said.
"You're mine, Claire."
Her head spun, stomach instantly sick. She had willingly danced with the Devil too many times. Now there was no escaping him...
A/N: Heyyyyy long time, no see! Sorry for the delay in all my chapters. Life has been quite hectic for me lately! I'm so ready for a break! D; I hope this long update on Nightfall will be worth the wait! Originally, this chapter was going to be called "Obsession", but hopefully "Mine" works out better, hehe. Claire has been getting into nothing but trouble this whole story no matter what she does, but this one might just take the cake! ;3
There's an easter egg in this chapter for a popular Netflix show. If you're up for a little easter egg hunt on Easter, go ahead. If you know what it is, shout it out in the reviews! ;D
Hopefully the next update won't take near as long! (I probably said that last time oof) Everyone stay safe and take care! :)