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Tempest	By : JadeFrost Category: +M through R > Resident Evil Views: 5778 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Tempest
- 1
In the darkness, in the tremor of shadow, a trembling breath.

I breathe, but it lingers, nearly visible on the air between us.

There is the gild of moonlight, soft and nearly physical, slipping across his face like a lover, highlighting each nuance of white skin.

There is no question to which of us will touch first. I am drawn, I am over come. I must, or surely die from need.

Over cotton, my fingers brush, gently, slowly, resting for a moment on the beat of his heart beneath it.

It thrums, it throbs, tripping and whipping in manic glee.

He wants and I feel it with the first brush of lips. The softness of his hair gliding down to be shared between our foreheads.

We press, the kiss nearly chaste. And it is a tease, a tremble.

My mouth opens on a soundless sigh and he is inside. His tongue slipping, dipping, maddeningly tracing.

My hands tighten over his back, drawing him into me.

The promise of cloth whispering against the naked white of my skin.

I am open to him, I am unencumbered. He feels each nipple, drawn tight with greed, brushing against the wide expanse of his chest.

And the kiss becomes carnal, greedy. We both make a sound, him something between a groan and a moan, my own a nearly pleading whine.

Our heads bob, his hair, so light, so soft, spilling against the darkness of mine.

And those hands, callused, hard from work, from labor, imbued with such strength, slide down my back. We mold, and his fingers press, slipping to cup me, to feel each mound of my cheeks in his hands. He isn�t sweet, he isn�t soft, when grinds the front of our bodies together.

He�s hard, he�s huge, he�s hungry. The kiss breaking only for breathing, and then he�s slipping that hand around and down, circling it over my navel.

When his fingers touch me, feel me, I�m already wet for him.

He groans, dipping those digits into my wanton want, slipping them down and over the slit that begs for more then fingers, more then a touch.

He flicks a thumb across me, causing my back to arch. And his mouth, god his mouth, it eats at the side of my throat, the top of my shoulder as he skillfully divests me of any fear.

There�s a feral beauty in each masterful stroke of his thumb against the throbbing heart of my need. I moan, I writhe, dripping wet and hungry now for more.

As if he reads it, as if he KNOWS, he takes a handful of my hair, holding me still and with a single move, he pushes two fingers inside.

I cry out, loud and sharp, as he is sharp, forcing his way inside the tightness of my body. Its immediate, with each curl of those fingers, each forceful thrust inside and over and over my body.

I cum, screaming, gripping at his arms, so hard, steely with holding back.

So wet, I fill his palm with me, watch the wicked smile on his face as he holds me up, supporting with one hand.

And raises the other to his lips, to suck his fingers clean of me.

I�m undone, grasping at him. Writhing and groaning and nearly screaming as he shoves, pushes, and my back hit�s the wall. It shakes, it shimmers, the world.

We kiss, desperately, wetly, flaccid and fluid with each drive of tongue, each click of teeth.

My fingers fight, fumbling at his zipper, freeing it with a nearly loud sigh of metal.

There�s a kiss of blonde hair, of brown, as he drops his mouth, licking, nibbling along my throat.

The wetness closes over one breast, drawing it sharp and tight into his mouth. I scream, clawing now, tearing. And the shirt, it bars my way, stops my fingers from finding flesh.

With a pop, wetly, he releases my tender aching nipple, moving back enough to allow me the duty of jerking at his shirt, tearing aside the shoulder holster to let it dangle.

He gives a laugh, dark and dirty, as he I yank it over his head, throwing it negligently away.

The laugh falls into a groan. My mouth is on him, over his chest, maddeningly licking, biting, fingers digging into his arms. I feel each muscle there, in those arms, that at first sight had made me wet for him, made me ache for him.

I lick, tongue flicking, snake quick over his left nipple which hardens to a nub at my command.

And those hands grab mine, shove them, hard and fast over my head.

His arms bracket either side of my head, thick and hard with muscle, holding me there, exposed and open for him.

He pants, voice heavy as he whispers, *Beg me for it.*

And I do, I do. Nearly desperate. �Oh god, please. Oh god. Fuck me.�

He laughs again, so evil, so wicked, so naughty.

His pants fall, belt jingling, there�s the loud sound of his gun hitting the floor.

And I feel him, so hard, so ready, as he brushes himself back and forth across the soft skin of my stomach.

I am mad. I am need. I scream it, �TAKE ME!�

He jerks me forward by my hands, I stumble from the force of it. I know this man, he could beat me, bleed me, and I would beg for more.

But he doesn�t, he grabs my leg, pulls it to settle on his naked hip. And he is there, so close. Brushing thick and hard and silky against the wet weep of my body.

I arch, jerk, body straining for the fill, for the thrust of it.

His breath blows hot and heady against my throat as he cups me and jerks.

In a single stroke, with a single move, he dips and impales me. Shoving so hard I hit the wall with a bounce and am filled, stretched, too big, too much, not nearly enough.

We groan together, foreheads bumping.

My leg locks over his back, he reaches down, grips the other and raises me, still impaled. So gloriously impaled on his hungry cock.

I wrap around him, my legs around his waist like a monkey, holding and full, bursting with wet, with greed.

In a single moment, he begins to ride. Furious. Smashing me back against the wall, forcing each begging inch into me. It�s madness, I writhe, gripping handfuls of his hair, holding on.

Each glorious thrust nearly hurts, walking a line between pleasure and pain.

It flashes, hot and deep inside of me. As he moves, as he jerks, thrusting and filling and forcing and fucking.

I scream, again, again. His name, over and over.

Sweat runs, wet and dirty, spilling down his chest. My hands grabbing at his arms, nails biting, digging in for purchase. His strength, each bulge of muscle, holding me, slamming, ramming and forcing me into the wall.

I arch, spine thrown back, breasts bouncing, moving.

He spills me to the floor, still thrusting, still riding.

I�m driven across it with each jerk of his hips, so full. Screaming.

Wet, I�m so wet, gripping around him like a glove.

Our hands meet, meld, held over my head as he thrusts, ramming, slamming me into the carpet.

My vision blotches, blurry as our mouths meet in a fluid, slap of lips and teeth and tongue.

I want to suck him, I want to taste him. But I must settle for his mouth.

He rides, he rids me of anything but the need.

I rise, I fall, a sweaty line of skin beneath him. His mouth eating now, sucking, licking and biting over my breasts.

With a scream, loud and immediate, and painful. I cum for him, shaking, arching even as he groans as he spills, pumping, pumping into me thick and hot and over flowing.

There are nail marks on his back, down his skin. I�ve split it, spilled just a hint of blood.

And he collapses atop me, panting.
- 1
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Tempest