Masquerade: And the Devil's Bargain

"I want to kill her."

Chris met her eyes, held them, "So did I once...You may get your chance. But you have to decide, right in this moment, what you want from him. You're running out of time."

She whispered, into the microphone now so he could hear her, "Get the intel, Leon."

Leon clenched his fist and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

He'd promised he wouldn't fuck her. He was going to make sure he kept that promise.

But what if the price was one more night? What if it was once more, just once, and she'd be gone from him forever? Would he betray Rebecca, just once more, to be free of the bitch in red forever?

Leon moved toward the bed. He parted the curtains and crawled across the satin bedspread.

Satisfaction, she'd said. She hadn't said sex. She'd said satisfaction.

He gestured with his head. The other men seemed to know what he wanted. Some kind of unspoken guy code. They emerged, eager.

"Hold her down."

Ada's eyes flashed surprise.

Each man took one of her delicate arms, stretching it above her head. Leon slid his hands up her body, parting the front of the dress until her perfect breasts were exposed. The little pink nipples pouted, begging for attention.

He felt the shift in his groin, felt the erection that pushed there at the sight of her. Promise or not, he was a man. And she was, would always be, the dark that tempted him. His dick wanted her, and he could at least let it see her this one last time.

He put his hands on her, shaping her breasts, rolling them. His thumbs swept her nipples, his fingers tweaked them, plucked them. She gasped, shivering, the men above her made sounds of pleasure and brushed themselves against her outstretched hands.

Leon ducked his head and laved one nipple with his tongue, tasting her. His groin was so heavy with need it was painful. Good, good, the pain was good. It kept him in his head. It made him remember what he'd told Rebecca when he left. He was an actor, it was a game. And it meant...nothing.

He looked at her face beneath him, so beautiful, so perfect. Nothing. It would never be nothing. But it didn't have to be everything either. And he was going to make damn sure she didn't win this time. Not again.

He shifted down her body and nodded. The men holding her arms each used their free hands to start playing with those breasts. She made a sound of surprise and delight. The scent of her excitement grew.

Leon slid his hands up the outside of her thighs and hooked his fingers around her panties, dragging them down those long, long legs. Caught up in his own game for a moment, he closed his eyes and breathed, remembering to stay in character. He lay on his stomach and settled himself between her thighs, cupping the outside of her legs in his hands to open her to him.

The first taste of her nearly undid him. She was succulent, soft, somehow sweet and delicious. He closed his eyes against it and slid his tongue over her, over her. Ada murmured, gasping. He gathered his resolve and feasted on her.

She bowed, bucking against his face. It was deep and hungry now, his tongue delved and delighted in her mounting need for him. He spread her with his fingers and worshipped at her body, flicking a finger over her as his tongue thrust in and out of her delicious center. She tasted like sex and sin and something addictive.

He slid his fingers into her to push her closer to the edge as his tongue offered her no mercy. He jerked her hips against his face, forcing himself into her and forcing her to take each lick and stroke and relentless fuck of finger and tongue. His dick throbbed, pulsing with the need to plunge into her body and spill. It promised him wonderful things if he just gave in, gave up, and hammered her into the bed.

It lied.

And it wasted its time.

He'd been ignoring his dick for years before Rebecca had come along and awakened him. It was nice to know he still could if he really wanted to. He gave his dick a little attention and rubbed his groin against the mattress just to take the edge off.

She gasped above him, panting, "Please!"

He rolled to the side and gathered his resolve. He wouldn't, couldn't, fuck her. He wouldn't. But he'd give her what she asked for.

He gestured with his head and one of the men shifted. The other released her arm as well. Leon jerked her up and slid under her. Satisfaction, she'd said. He'd give her that. On all fours, she looked down at him. The greed on her face nearly robbed his will power and left him empty.

He shook his head and one of the man moved in behind her. She must have known what was about to happen because she said, "Wait...this wasn't the deal."

"You said satisfaction. Play the game, Ada. You'll get satisfaction."

Something on her face shifted, held. "Fair enough." Her hands jerked at his zipper and pulled him hard and thick and desperate from his pants once more. "I'll play. But you'll play too."

He made some sound of denial mixed with a shuddering breath. Was this the price? It would seem it was.

The man behind her grabbed her hips and yanked her back on his willing dick. She gasped, grunted with the force of it, and did the same to Leon. Her mouth sank completely over him, balls deep into the waiting wonder of her mouth. He cursed, loudly and lewdly, his fingers tunneled and twisted in her hair.

The man behind her was fucking her now, hard and deep. The wet slaps of his body filled the room around them. Her mouth delved and dropped, sucking and fucking like she was born to do it. He stared up at the canopy above the bed, impaled on the horns of his own game. Ada drove her mouth down on his mercilessly, fast and desperate.

He grunted, gasped, and let her.

He didn't fuck her.

He didn't.

But he let her mouth fuck him.

His hands threw out to the sides and twisted in the bedspread, grabbing handfuls as the waves and spears of pleasure washed and stabbed through him. His blood rushed into his groin, turning it into a heavy, helpless, throbbing thing. He arched against her mouth, crying out as she drug him, dying, up the cliff of pleasure with her and made sure he scraped every jagged, wonderful ledge along the way.

On the other end of the camera, sitting on the bed in the hotel room with the little laptop in front of her, Rebecca felt her heart break. It was so painful. Awful and terrible and real. She'd taken the little laptop into the bedroom to be alone. She'd all but told him to do it. Hadn't she? Get the intel, she'd said. Had she meant this? Was this the price she paid for letting him go?

The door opened and Chris entered, watching her.

She picked up the laptop and set it on the desk, showing him what was happening. He watched for a long moment, listening as well to the clear and very erotic sounds of sex and pleasure. The camera, clearly on Kennedy's tie, was aimed up at the canopy of the bed. But it took no imagination what so ever to hear what was being done to his body by the very delectable Ada Wong.

Chris closed the door quietly behind him and leaned against it.

On the laptop screen, Kennedy made some sound of reluctant pleasure.

Rebecca took a deep breath, steeling herself. She'd said do whatever it took. She listened to him getting his dick sucked by the bitch in red and her belly felt like someone had kicked her in it, over and over. She glanced over at Chris leaning against the door. He had one knee bent, one foot braced there against the wood. His head was slightly down, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, watching her with hooded eyes.

The room was dark, the moonlight filtered in from behind the expensive curtains against the far wall. She felt the betrayal gnaw at her bones, in her blood. She moved without knowing what she was doing. She turned to the man on the other side of the room. The hurt on her face was stark and painful for him to see.

She wanted to hurt Leon Kennedy. And she knew how to hurt him. And she knew it was vindictive and cruel. But she wanted to feel anything besides the anger, the hurt, the utter punishing jealousy that raged and fired through her blood since the moment she'd known he'd fucked her that first time. She couldn't get the image of Leon and Ada Wong fucking like jack rabbits out of her head. And now this...this...her mouth on him, swallowing him, sucking and pleasuring them both.

She needed to do something, anything to get rid of the image of it.

On the laptop screen, the view shifted as he clearly leaned back on his elbows to watch the woman sucking his dick. Both she and Chris heard his voice ground out a curse word. The wet suckling sounds filled the room around them. Rebecca could see Ada Wong's lips going down over his body, again and again.

Chris said, quietly, and there was such raw anger in his voice, "I'm sorry. I can't even imagine what this feels like."

Rebecca shook her head, felt the fire of it in her blood, "It feels like a kick to the groin."

Chris smiled a little, "Well then maybe I can imagine what that feels like after all."

He watched her stand there, shaking. "Turn it off, Rebecca."

"I can't." And she sounded so broken.

His voice was more commanding now, the voice of the man who'd led troops into battle. It was the voice of the man who'd, more than once, watched men die and been unable to stop it. "Turn away from it, now."

She shook her head, once, twice. She turned away from the laptop and faced the man before her. She let the feel of the girl she'd been roll through her, smooth and sharp. She had forgotten, somewhere along the way, that she was no ones toy. She wasn't something that could be played with a discarded. She had told him to get the intel but this...this was so much worse. This was twenty years of him chasing the wrong woman.

Rebecca lifted her head and looked across the moonlit room. Somewhere close by, the man she loved was in the arms of another woman. He was inside of her, surrounded by her. He was in the moment with her and lost. The moonlight fell across the figure leaning against the door...and the girl in the woman betrayed, remembered a time she was so much more than that.

There's a moment when the heart and the mind merge, making way for something they may have each been missing all along. She'd spent so long looking at Leon Kennedy, she'd missed the most obvious thing: he hadn't always been what she'd wanted.

And he wasn't the first hero to have found a little place in her heart.

And he wasn't the only man in the world that could make her feel, what had he said to her? Oh yeah...ALIVE.

She moved through the moonlight toward him. She looked up into his face, seeing the boy she'd knew in the man before her. Age had been kind to Chris Redfield; he had grown more handsome, bigger, stronger, and retained that kindness, that compassion, and that unfaltering sense of humor. The boy had been a handsome devil, charming and full of mischief. The man was a different kind of devil indeed. He was the kind you made a deal with, traded your soul to, just to have a taste.

On the helicopter, sitting beside Leon Kennedy, she'd had the thought that Chris Redfield wasn't for her. But tonight, just now, standing so close to him, wanting so desperately to feel something in her blood but pain and torture...she thought maybe, just now, he was for her. And she was for him.

"Tell me he's a fool." Her voice was so quiet, so soft.

He watched her, carefully, judging her mood. She looked so pale, so lost. He did what he always did, Chris Redfield told her the truth, "He's a fucking fool."

Rebecca grabbed him by the vest, surprising them both. She looked up at him and there a thousand feelings reflected in her blue eyes. "Were you a fool too? I loved you once...a long time ago. You never looked at me. I keep finding myself surrounded by men who are fools."

He looked at her face in the moonlight. Somewhere fireworks were going off now, throwing rotating shades of color over her milky skin. She'd always been cute, adorable, and she was right...he'd never saw her, not really. He'd never looked at her as anything other than the little girl he'd rescued in the Spencer Estate all those years ago. I loved you, she'd said. In all of his life, he didn't think any other woman had ever said that to him. The truth of it humbled him.

"I'm a fuckin fool too."

Surprised, she met his eyes. "You never saw me. I need you to see me now. I need you to look at me. Because I can't keep looking at him and know that he's seeing her. He's feeling her. I need to forget that he will never look at me like that. And I can't keep chasing men who don't see me."

Chris spoke, quietly, "I see you. But I'm not what you want. I can't erase him from you."

"You told me once you'd have ruined me for all other men. I don't need that. I just need you to ruin me for him." The suckling sounds on the laptop were now punctuated by Leon's gasps. Chris watched the screen for a moment, seeing the bitch in red trying to suck his soul out through his dick.

He turned his face down to her and the hurt there was so desperate and raw.

In that moment, he hated Leon Kennedy for her. He hated him for the pain he caused without even trying. He hated him because the only way he could think to get rid of his demon was to let her suck him dry while the woman who loved him watched and died inside.

They were both fools. But he could do something, right there in that moment, to help heal the hurt he might have left on the girl he'd never really seen. He was rarely a fool twice.

He dropped his assault rifle on the floor. She jumped a little at the sound. "Say what you mean here, Rebecca. I don't want any confusion between us."

She lifted her eyes to his face. "I want to feel what the girl felt for that boy all those years ago. I want to remember. And I want to forget."

Chris held her gaze, long, hard, "Be sure. One hundred percent. We can't take it back once it's done, Rebecca. He may never forgive you. I can give you this, I can give you me but it may cost you him. Be sure."

Her mind flashed to all the moments she'd had with Leon. It flashed to her promises to him: only sex, always faith, always love. Those things...they were true. She'd been sure of them then. She knew, he knew, they both knew that you couldn't burn love away in a single night. She didn't want to burn the love away...but she wanted to forget it, forget him, for just a little while.

She studied the man in front of her. He had a five o'clock shadow, pretty much all the time. There was something Hungarian or dark in his gene pool. It was mixed with the irish blood so strongly seen in his sister. He wasn't classically handsome like Leon Kennedy. He didn't have the model good looks that graced the pages of high fashion magazines. But he was gorgeous - the perfect combination of rugged sex and sheer power. He was the hero, the legend, the boy who'd become the man who understood her in ways that the man who held her heart never could.

Her heart started pounding, fast and hard. Be sure. There was no taking it back. If she did this, if she touched Chris Redfield...there was no taking it back. Be sure, he said. Was she sure?

On the laptop, Ada Wong laughed darkly and seductively. She slid up the body of the man Rebecca loved and kissed him. The camera shivered on his tie as he kissed her back.

Oh yeah. She was sure. She was so sure it was painful.

Her eyes flickered, bright and hot. She looked at the man in front of her and let the sight of him shift into her belly and tingle there, "I've never been surer of anything else in my life. I need you to see me."

Chris picked her up under the armpits, holding her off the floor in front of him. "I see you. If I'd have seen you then, you wouldn't be looking at him now."

"Make me forget him."

He set her down on the floor, jerked her hair back and looked down into her face. Whatever he was looking for, it must have been there in her eyes. He said, quietly, "Done."

Rebecca knew what she was risking here. She'd told Leon to do it. She'd said do it. But watching it, hearing it, seeing it. It was killing her. She hated him and hated Ada Wong and hated herself for loving him so much.

The man holding her skimmed his thumb over the delicate under side of her jaw, stroking the fine skin there, tempting her. "Tell me what you want."

He was asking her if she wanted it sweet, if she wanted it hard. He was asking her so he could give it to her, give her exactly what she wanted; what she needed. The offer...the offer of it meant more than anything else he'd ever done for her.

And just then, just in that single statement, just in the unfaltering blue of his eyes...he'd given her back some piece of herself that had been so raw and throbbing. There were no games here. Unless she wanted to play them.

She'd always wondered what he'd feel like. She'd always wondered what he'd touch her like. She'd always wondered how he'd smell and move and fuck. He was letting her pick the way they touched each other here, this first time. This only time? She wondered how one sample temptation just once and never again.

But he was promising her the ability to do just that if she wanted.

He was offering her the power to choose. To choose the how, choose the who, and choose the path she wanted to take. She lifted her hand and gripped his wrist where it held her face. Something in her yearned for him. Where were you a year ago? She wondered inside of her. When I was new? When I was still something that could have loved you and made us both so happy?

Tonight he offered her the power to turn back the clock and forget.

So she did what felt good. She did what felt powerful.

She lifted her hands and grabbed the zipper on Chris Redfield's vest. She jerked it down, and felt the grief inside of her spill into something else. Something wet and warm and human. He pushed away from the door and the vest fell with a clunk of Kevlar and metal plating to the floor.

His heart hammered, hard and fast in his chest. The blood flooded to his groin, thrilling him at the prospect of it. The excitement filled him for her. So this was how she wanted it; hard, fast, furious. She'd meant what she said, she wanted to forget. He knew how to make someone forget. He'd make them both forget.

The tight under armor shirt beneath his vest left everything and nothing to the imagination. She wanted what was under it. She wanted what was under his clothes, under his skin, under his soul. Her fingers gripped it and pulled, peeling it off of him. She was too short for the right angle so he had to duck a little so she could get it off of him. It lodged on his upper arms, binding him there for a moment. She rolled her face against his exposed chest like a cat, scent marking.

The throbbing in his dick for her now was murderous and wonderful and perfect.

There was so much of him, muscle, flesh, and the seductive pulse of the heart beyond it all. The soft spread of hair over his pecs ended in a happy trail down to the waist band of his pants. He was probably going to be the most delicious mistake she'd ever made.

Love was one thing. But this...this was just what she needed. He was just what she needed. For twenty years, Leon had chased around after Ada, a pathetic puppy. For twenty years, Rebecca had wondered what was under Chris Redfield's clothes. The girl had been curious about the boy who'd saved her that night in the mansion, curious if he kissed as good as he looked. When he'd shown up in her office all those years later and saved her again, the woman had been curious if he tasted as good as looked. She was betting the boy would have been nothing compared to the man.

Tonight she was about to find out what twenty years of waiting looked like.

She skimmed her fingers over each delineated muscle in his stomach, feeling the ridges and valleys that made up his upper body. She traced his pecs, playing along the suggestion of baby fine hair above his nipples. He was too muscular for too much chest hair but there was enough to pull at things low in a girl's belly. She put her mouth to one nipple, drawing it into her mouth to tempt herself. He made a little sound of pleasure in his throat at the nearly delicate touch of her.