Masquerade: And the Devil's Bargain

She put her mouth harder over the meat of him and bit down, so, so gently. She drew the feel of him into her, suckling on his flesh. And she had her answer; he tasted as good as he looked.

Her hands couldn't even close over his biceps to grab him. He was just that big. She shivered in delight at it. Was there a woman a live that didn't go weak at the sight of all that muscle?

He was very still as her hands jerked at his belt and it whipped free from the loops with a scream of leather. He grabbed her chin and turned her face up to him, his eyes scanned her features, searching. He balled a hand into the front of her shirt and jerked her up toward him, his other arm caught her around the waist and lifted her against his front, stealing the breath from her lungs with the strength of it. His thumb settled into the softness of the underside of her chin and forced her face up to his.

She'd always kinda known he'd be that kind of lover. Fast, rough, nearly impossibly greedy. He kissed her like he'd climb inside of her mouth, bury himself inside of her, and burst out of her body on endless waves of pleasure. She made some sound of surprise, of delight. Revenge had a powerful edge; it ripped the thought of anything else but the taste of him from her throat.

Sex was a powerful curative. It was catharsis in the form of skin and sin and sweat.

He walked with her clutched to him, driving his tongue into her mouth with a nearly perfect tempo of thrust and suck. He was brilliant at it. He was a master kisser. There was no awkwardness here. He was no virgin. The kiss said it all. This guy...this guy knew how to fuck her and leave her twitching and begging for more.

It scared her a little. He could do whatever he wanted to her and she couldn't stop him. He was over twice her size. He could force her down and fuck her while she screamed and begged for him to stop. He could fuck her to death and she would be able to do nothing but take it. The thought of it frightened and enthralled her, a potent aphrodisiac. Because she'd opened the door to her past, to the pain and pleasure that would come side by side with what was about to happen. And it came in a very big, very powerful package. The fear had a salacious, addictive, and dangerous edge. It spiraled out of her mouth in a moan.

Chris pushed her against the wall, angled her head, and made her mouth his. He was relentless, commanding, pushing hers into the right pace with his, rewarding it with just the right pressure, just the right thrust and combination of give and take. He pinned her against the wall and ripped away any shred of second thoughts that might have even attempted to poke their ugly heads up and stop what was happening.

When he let her come up for air, she was gasping, breathless. Her skin was flushed, pink and sweaty. He grabbed her chin, held it. His gloved hand was scratchy on her delicate skin. "Last chance to change your mind."

She had given him food for thought that day on the helicopter. She was right. He'd never looked at her like that. But he had started too after that. And he was looking now. There was a little piece of him that regretted being blind before this moment. And knew he'd never be able now to take back what this was. What it would be. What it could be. That bridge had burned. He was going to show her there was more to life than Leon Kennedy.

Kennedy was an idiot. Always had been. Chasing some piece of ass that would chew him up, spit him out, and never bat an eye. Let him chase that bitch. Chris was happy to step in and steal his woman while he did.

Rebecca shivered in his grasp, feeling her mouth throb with the pleasure of the fucking he'd given it moments before. That was just his mouth. His MOUTH on her mouth. She was enthralled and sorta afraid of what the rest would be like. And the revenge had a sweet and murderous edge because she desperately wanted to play with fire and find out.

Chris wrapped that gloved hand around her throat, delicate, but nearly impossibly erotically charged. He made it clear he could hold her there if either of them wanted. He made it clear he owned her. The possession of it thrilled her blood until she thought might turn into a puddle of want and need. His other hand slipped into her pants and covered her mound, rubbing at her through her panties, "Is this what you want?"

Rebecca shivered, gasping. And they both knew, right in that moment, that he'd been good on his promise. She wasn't thinking of Leon Kennedy. She was only thinking of him.

She grabbed the St. Christopher medal dangling on his chest and jerked him into her. "Yeah," She whispered, "It's what I want."

The world went red, black, and ran with blood and want. She gasped, bowed, and he fingered her over her panties until they grew damp and desperate. Something in her told her she was risking everything, risking it all, to get revenge. She couldn't care, didn't care, she wanted to feel anything, anything, but the seething well of resentment and hatred and pain that pulsed inside her belly at what she knew was happening not far away.

He didn't let her feel the pain of that betrayal for too long. He held her against the wall with that hand around her throat, just hard enough to prove he could keep her there forever. His other hand shifted into her panties and drove his fingers mercilessly into her body. It was so unexpected that she could do nothing but let the crude pleasure of it rocket into her and obliterate her.

She screamed, grasping at his forearm where it held her down. The other hand grabbed his wrist where it worked her body below. Her legs turned to jello, shivering and shaking from it. She was afraid she was going to fall down as he used only five fingers to drive the demons out of her body and leave a red, pulsing, burning need behind. He fucked her with his hand so relentlessly, so roughly that she was almost taken off her feet with each surge of him inside of her body. But he didn't give her a chance to steady, he held her against the wall with that hand on her throat and ruthlessly pushed her toward the edge of everything.

"You want to come?" His voice, low, so deep it nearly hurt the ears.

"Yes!"

"Not yet." That merciless hand retreated from her panties, leaving her gasping and twitching on the edge of an orgasm. He grabbed the front of her shirt in his fist, jerked her away from the wall and carelessly tossed her onto the bed beside them.

She bounced, gasping. Her hands tried to shoot down between her legs to touch herself as the pounding, desperate wave of want nearly killed her. He knocked her hands away, gently but firmly as he climbed on the bed, rising over her like a muscled devil there to call her soul from her flesh and fuck it raw, "No."

She made some sound in her throat that was nearly pleading.

If he was the devil, whatever deal he offered, she'd take it. She'd have sold her soul in that moment for what he offered. I can't erase him, he'd said. But apparently he was going to try to fuck the memory of him out of her. Rebecca trembled, desperate for the idea of it.

He jerked her shirt over her head, tossing it away. The bra beneath, simple and white, he simply pushed up to bunch under her arm pits. He set his teeth to her and it wasn't gentle. He tried to see how much breast he could get inside his mouth in a single bite.

Rebecca was keening in her throat now, her hands grabbed the back of his head to hold him to her? To push him away? His mouth let go of her breast with a wet popping sound. The breast was pink, edged raw with the start of a hickey. Satisfied that he'd marked her, he switched to the other with a grunt of approval. He was softer this time, smoother. This breast he worshiped, sucking and nipping, biting and playing. The contrast in it robbed the last of her brain from her head and shot it straight out of her ass.

I'd have ruined you for all other men, he'd joked that day. She'd laughed. She shouldn't have laughed. It was arrogance, yes, and he was a pompous ass for it. But he wasn't a liar. He'd have ruined her for all other men.

He drew back to look at her in the moonlight. The shadow of him covered her completely. His hands pulled her panties off her and she bicycled her legs excitedly to help. He chuckled a little, amused at her desperation.

For Chris, sex was just another need. Like breathing, or eating, or working out. It was something the body needed to function. He'd never really attached much thought to Rebecca in terms of sex. He tended to look at the bustier, taller, more obvious female stereotypes.

He was looking now though. She was small, delicate; her curves were subtle and refined. But her hips flared beautifully, her legs were perfect and curvy, her breasts were perky and surprisingly full over the concave promise of her belly. She was beautiful and the fact that it wasn't in an obvious way, made it all the better.

I need you to see me, she'd said. He was seeing her. And he was enjoying the hell out of the show.

He pushed a finger into her body, watched that pretty little face go red with want and need. His thumb cupped at the moist slit of her, circling her clit while he slid his finger in and out of her. She was so small inside, so warm and tight. He knew he'd have to open her, have to ready her for him.

Chris grabbed her behind her knees and drove her legs back. He put each of her hands under them and didn't wait, didn't offer anything else but to drop in front of her and add his mouth to his fingers. She made some sound of desperate pleasure. His finger slid out of her, fighting against the hungry pull of her body. Small or not, she was a greedy, sucking, desperate little thing. Her body wanted a good fucking.

He spread his hand over her belly and groin while she lay there, holding herself open for him. His mouth was merciless, as his kiss had been. This was no gentle ascent, this was a siege. He sucked the apex of her body into his mouth, rolling the bud of her begging clit first between his teeth and then against his relentless tongue. She nearly came right there, right on the spot, but he shoved two fingers into her body and she was pretty sure she died instead.

His tongue joined his fingers, thrusting, delving and diving into her with a maddening abandon. He held her down on the bed with his hand spread on her body, his other hand forced her hips to roll into a rhythm of rise and fall. She held on until the pleasure was simply so deep, so big, and so wide that there seemed to be no end and nope for anything but drowning alive in it. Her legs collapsed and trapped his hand between her thighs, he leaned over her and gave the taste of her body back to her with his questing tongue.

That was it. That was all it took. She crested, gasping, her hands grasping at him nearly desperately. She cried her release into his mouth as it poured over her flesh in a hot, nearly scalding, wave. She humped her hips continuously against his hand as the orgasm buried its teeth into her and shook her around like a dog with a bone.

He leaned back, rising over her again as the shuddering eased back into trembling. She wondered if she'd ever know again the feeling that came with seeing him like that, poised above her all muscle and strength and lust. She lifted a hand and rubbed it over his chest, ran it down the corrugated planes of his stomach, dipped into the wonderful mystery of his navel. His happy trail was impossibly soft to the touch.

Rebecca rose a little, lifting her upper half off the bed; her hands found his zipper and jerked. She should have known he would be wearing anything under the pants. Under wear was probably just a nuisance for a guy like Chris Redfield. There was a delicious nest of curly, springy hair for her fingers to play with when the zipper was down. She swirled her fingers through it and gave just a tug, just a bit, but it was enough to flare his eyes open with excitement.

She was pretty sure she was going to die before this was over. It was ok. She was soooo ready to go.

He grabbed her bra and pulled it up over her head, it lingered behind her back, binding her arms there for a long moment. He cupped the side of her face and drew her up to him. He kissed her with his eyes open, watching her face. He had her bowed back, her spine a perfect curve. It offered her breasts to him almost obscenely, deliciously. He licked them, pushing her bound hands up against her back to drive her further into his mouth.

She mewled, undone. He skimmed his hand down her little belly as he set his teeth into her breast and bit down. It wasn't gentle, it was almost too rough. She screamed again and he thrust his knee between her legs, forcing the wetness of her down on the roughness of his pants. She gasped, struggling a little at the place he was trying to take her. Surely he wasn't going to—and then he did, he sucked so hard on her breast that the blood rushed to the surface of her skin to meet the demand of it. He rubbed his knee against her wet mound, pulled her tortured and pulsing breasts against the hardness of his chest, and drove his tongue into her mouth.

He rubbed her over his knee, rubbed her body against the gruff texture of those fatigues he wore. One hand held her arms firmly behind her, a captive to his whim. The other grabbed her around the hips and forced her body to ride him, just like that, to just ride his knee while he tongue fucked her mouth. Whatever sound she was making, it couldn't be human. It was desperate and maddened and dying.

She was on the edge of an orgasm when he jerked his mouth off hers with a wet slap of releasing pressure. He dropped her back to the bed. She slid down his knee in a wet, gasping, shuddering heap.

She shivered, trapped by his eyes, they were open as he dropped his head and dipped his tongue into her mouth. It wasn't a kiss so much as a raw taste of her. He brushed her tongue with his, swirled them together in her mouth, and then sealed their mouths together with the perfect amount of pressure. He kept her in place with just his eyes. They wouldn't let her look away. He forced her to see the pleasure he was shoving like a sword into her body.

Rebecca made some sound in her throat, trapped in that long, long look. His hand slipped between her legs and very, very slowly tortured her. Again, the contrast moved her. The duality was addictive; forceful, desperate and then sweet and slow. He wouldn't let her look away, forcing her to hold his gaze while he pushed her up the wall of her own need. She couldn't think of anything she'd rather see in just this moment then his face while he took her.

Her hands scrambled, grabbed his biceps and then a fistful of muscle on his back. He took the other one and slid it down his body, guiding it into the open mouth of his pants. She eagerly sought the length of him. She tugged again on his groin hair just to watch his face while she did it. He grunted with pure pleasure.

She shivered. The eager length of him was thick and wide. She could barely close her fingers around him. A dirty little smile bloomed on his mouth at the flare of her eyes from the surprise of it. She hadn't expected him to be so...fat. The sheer girth of him brought her breath in a fearfully excited pant.

"Want to back out?" His voice was gruff and teasing but she knew he'd do it. He'd let her back out. He was, underneath it all, a boyscout. A dirty, filthy, probably fucked like a cowboy riding rodeo, she'd walk bowlegged for a week...boyscout.

"Are you kidding?" To prove it, she jerked his pants down his hips. When that wasn't enough she pushed him to his back on the bed. Small, delicate, she looked like a sexy tinkerbell in the moonlight as she turned around to unlace his boots. Of course, she couldn't possibly know what that sight was like. Her delicious little bottom waved like a red flag to a bull in his face while pulled his boots off and tossed them to the floor. He let her work, watching that ass tease him without even trying. A sexy little tinkerbell with a perfect little bubble butt. The sight of her made him feel like a man who'd been starving for something he hadn't even known he wanted so much.

She tugged his pants off his feet and tossed them to the floor. That was it, that was all he could wait for. She started to turn around to face him and he lifted his upper body off the bed. He caught her taunting hips in his hands and pulled her back against his face. It was so dirty, so terribly dirty, that it brought a cry from her mouth as he feasted on the creamy wetness of her. He lapped at her juices and sweet taste of that perfect little ass of hers.

Someone was making a high gasping keen. As soon as she realized it was her, she shifted herself and dropped her mouth to him. She gathered the girth of him in her hand, cupping the rest of him to roll the delicate softness of his sack between her fingers as she licked at the tip of him. She tasted the saltiness of his body and opened her mouth wide to slide him inside. She drove her mouth down on him so fast and deep, she was afraid she was going to choke herself. But she couldn't stop, didn't want to stop, and it was the first time since they started that he actually began to make uncontrollable sounds.

He sucked at her pouting lips and then bit down, fierce and hungry, into the left cheek of her ass. She cried out around his cock which sent vibrations straight from his dick to his stomach. Her forced her hips back against his mouth as he tongued her, drowning in the scent and taste of her excitement. Her mouth drove down on him completely and he hit the back of her throat.

She gagged, just a little, and the feeling of her throat clasping and clenching at him raped the first cry she'd heard from him. The power that speared into her from that one little sound made her head spin. Her hands slid under his muscled ass and lifted him to her face until she had to pull off him to draw a ragged breath.

He was sweaty now and panting, just like her, just like she was. The victory of bringing him with her into the madness of the moment made her laugh, darkly. Chris sat up, grabbing her around the waist and flipped her to her back on the bed with a great deal of force.

She bounced, moaning. He caught her hands and drew them above her head and straddled her hips. He rubbed his very wet dick against her belly, torturing them both. His hands slid down her arms, over her soft arm pits, and brushed the sides of her breasts. She shivered and he rocked the feel of him against her belly again.

She grabbed the length of him in her fist, jerking him gently as he rocked. He palmed both of her breasts now, rolling them in his hands and torturing her. The gruff roughness increased and he mashed them now, nearly hurting her. It smashed the pain and pleasure centers in her body together and brought a hungry moan from her mouth.

She'd wanted to forget. It had worked like a charm. She could remember nothing now but how he made her feel, "Give me more."

Enough games, he thought, he'd give her more.

He collapsed down on her, bracketed her head in a push up motion. She locked her legs around his, sliding her feet down his calves. He dipped his head and kissed her, shifted his body a little, and rubbed himself of the moist, wet, willing heat of her. His hand fingered her, working her, opening her. She realized, maybe a little too late, he was preparing her for him. Such a rough, demanding, soul stealing lover...and that simple thoughtfulness touched her. Rough or not, he didn't want to hurt her. Not like that.

He shifted himself against her and put himself against her body, rubbing. Rebecca grabbed his face now and kissed him. She licked his mouth, slid her tongue into it, and nodded. She nodded to give him permission. She nodded to give them both permission. Once they went here, there was no going back.