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His lips on yours are scorching hot and tender. You gasp into his mouth when he touches you, his hand on your hip, the other buried in your hair so he can angle you better. Your body is on fire and he is the gasoline that keeps building the flames ever higher.
“You're so sweet for me, dear heart. So responsive. I've barely touched you.”
You open your eyes to stare up at Wesker and find his blazing eyes on you already, drinking you in with a smirk on his face that you're very familiar with.
“I need you,” you sob, arching into him as you try to chase more of that feeling, more of him, drunk on the taste of him and feeling like nothing will ever satisfy you that doesn't come from him ever again.
Nothing has ever made you feel this out of it, this desperate for touch or release. Your vibrator or fingers can't come close to the euphoria of Wesker's touch – you never thought it could feel so good to feel another's skin upon yours.
“I know,” he coos condescendingly but he does oblige you as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties and find your clit to play with. “You're burning up. Poor thing. Has anyone ever touched you down here before?”
You shake your head no, feeling tears gathering on your lash line as you close your eyes against the overwhelming feeling of having your pussy touched by a hand that isn't yours for the first time. Wesker's fingers are different than your own – thicker, rougher, they apply pressure differently and alternate between rubbing, circling and pinching. Your orgasm takes you by surprise. Your eyes snap open as your mouth does the same, a silent scream trapped behind your throat, and you don't even shudder through the release wrung out of you – you just seize for a moment, entirely frozen in time, before you slump back down and try to catch your breath.
You've come quickly before but never quite this fast. Or hard.
“That was…”
Wesker's smirk is still in place when you find his face again, but it softens slightly as he leans down and takes your mouth in his in a sensual kiss. It takes your breath away, the way he kisses. So sure of himself, so demanding, guiding you along and coaxing your lips and tongue in the exact dance he wants to create with you.
He undresses you slowly after that, taking his time to feel you up and mark his territory with kisses and hickeys. You lay back and enjoy it, feeling so full of him that you can barely breathe. It's like he's everywhere, you can't escape, but you don't even want to try – if this is what being lost in him means, then you never want to be found.
When he gets naked too, you insist on sucking him off even though the size of him is intimidating. Granted, any size would probably intimidate you, inexperienced as you are, but his cock certainly doesn't help matters. He lets you explore for a bit, getting a feel for the weight and texture in your hand, the taste and feel of it on your tongue, but then he manhandles you the way he wants you and guides your mouth around his dick properly. You can barely take half of it without your jaw aching and your throat seizing, but he doesn't seem to mind. When you look up at Wesker through eyes blurred by tears, he has a pleased, content look on his face as he fucks his cock gently in and out of your mouth. You would give anything for him to always look at you like that.
“That's enough of that,” he declares after a couple minutes of this, pulling his cock out and wiping the drool and precum off of your face with his fingers. “Lie down on your back, dearest, and open your legs for me.”
You obey easily but feel kind of silly to be lying there, completely naked, with your legs wide open while you wait for him. Wesker is there in a second, though, cupping your face and making you meet his eyes head-on.
“You are beautiful. You would not be in my bed if you weren't. I am going to fuck you and I am going to make it good for you and you will never forget your first time because of it. Understood?”
His thumb is brushing against your bottom lip, tracing it possessively, and you part your lips so you can suck the tip of his digit in, pressing kitten licks against it and watching his eyes darken as they zero in on your mouth. But you nod obediently to show you heard him nonetheless.
“Good.”
He leans back on his haunches, kneeling between your spread legs and looking like he stepped out of a playboy magazine – pale chest and torso glistening with a thin layer of sweat, hair completely undone and hanging in his face in a casual way you've never seen before from him but which makes your stomach swoop with butterflies, strong thighs straining and flexing with the effortless strength needed to keep him so perfectly upright. He rips the condom packet with his teeth, eyes glued to your body – your heaving chest, your pussy so wet it feels like a lake – then slowly rolls the condom onto his pretty cock, slicking himself up afterwards with a few lazy strokes while you try not to squirm again under his appreciative gaze.
“Try to relax and take deep breaths. And tell me if you want me to stop.”
Wesker guides his thick cock to your entrance then, intent and focused but slowly enough to not overwhelm you. The pressure is weird and uncomfortable at first and you want to squirm away from it even though you really, really want him to take your virginity. One of his hands finds your hip and holds you firmly in place, while the other reaches for one of your own and gently untangles your gripping fingers from the bedsheet so he can hold it instead. You gasp when his cock finally breaches you properly and for a moment it feels like you can't replace the air that just escaped your lungs, but then Wesker is there again, surrounding you, covering you, blocking everything out that isn't him and making your entire world narrow down to him and only him.
His hair tickles your face. His eyes are fathomless and focused entirely on you. When you finally deflate into a relaxed position once more and start breathing again, all you can smell is him, all the oxygen in your lungs coming from his shared breath. You are so focused on him and that arresting gaze that always has you feeling like a bug trapped in his intricate, dangerous web that you don't even notice that he's been pushing inside you the whole time until he bottoms out and stops there for a second.
But you notice now.
“So full…” you murmur in a daze, briefly glancing down between your bodies where you are now joined completely, before your eyes flicker back up to Wesker's face.
“And all mine,” he whispers in return. The hand at your hip comes up to cradle your face before he's kissing you again, a kiss so hungry and possessive it leaves no room for doubt that you belong to him in every possible way that a person can belong to another. From the moment you decided to give yourself to him, your fate was sealed. Now that he's had a taste of you, he's never going to let you go.
His arms wind their way around your body until they're wrapped around your torso, pulling you up into him and cradling you close like you're something precious, something to be handled with care and treated right. With your head buried in the crook between his neck and shoulder and his own in the same spot on your body, he starts moving.
You move together like dancers on a stage. His arms around your torso, your hands on his back, nails biting into the flawless skin, his strong legs propping him up over your body as he thrusts in and out of you over and over again, your legs spread open to welcome him in with your ankles hooked over his thighs as you try to pull him even closer into you.
You are so tangled up with Wesker, so united in your shared pleasure, that you don't know where you end and where he begins anymore. Your body is a mess of sensations and all you can do is anchor yourself to him and hope that when the wave crashes into you, you won't be swept away completely.
“So good for me. So tight. So beautiful,” he murmurs against your neck, shoulders straining as he keeps fucking you just right. His lips are glued to your skin, pressing a never-ending kiss into the crook of your neck, as if parting from you is impossible.
“Yes, for you,” you agree, gasping and clutching at the back of his head, fingers burying in his wild blonde locks for purchase when he angles his hips differently and sends a mountain of pleasure crashing into you suddenly. “Only for you.”
“Say you're mine,” Wesker orders as his arms tighten around you. “Tell me that no one else will see you like this, have you like this, know what your voice sounds like when you're cock drunk and begging for more.”
A coil tightens in your belly at his words and you hitch your legs upwards so you can wrap them around him better. The power of his thrusts increases proportionately to his desperation and you throw your head back on a loud, keening moan, feeling like you've died and gone to heaven.
“I'm yours! Yours, yours, no one else's. You've ruined me for anybody else. No one can compare,” you sob, feeling right on the edge but unable to crest the final peak.
“That's right, dearest. Such a good girl for me.”
Wesker bites down on your shoulder as he says it, driving himself impossibly deeper into you and stealing the breath from your lungs, and the combination of those words, the pain in your shoulder, and his pelvis brushing up against your throbbing clit just right when he slams inside finally gives you the push you needed. You hold him tight as you come, tears welling up in your eyes from how good it feels, and your desperate hands rove over his body, into his hair, down his back, scratching at his ass, everything you can think of as your need to fuse into him just to have him closer slams into you like a sledgehammer.
Wesker is pressing calming kisses against your throat, hand running up and down your spine in a soothing motion, when you feel capable of being present once more. His cock is still inside you but he's fucking you more languidly now, slow and steady as he waits for you to gather yourself. He lifts his head up when you tap on his shoulder and gives you a claiming kiss, tongue caressing yours and making you taste nothing but his essence.
He's not loud when he comes. He simply buries his face in your throat once more and grunts, groaning as he stills inside you, arms tightening around your body for a moment before they finally grow lax. He rolls off of you then, tying the condom off and throwing it in the trash, then he gathers you up in his arms and holds you close. You nuzzle into his chest, hands splayed over his bare, heated skin, and breathe deeply in the aftermath of losing your virginity to a man like Albert Wesker.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he disrupts the silence that has fallen over you some indeterminate amount of time later. His left hand is buried in your hair, scratching idly at your scalp but with the promise of being able to switch to gripping you tightly by the roots at any moment. You love that about him, that quiet strength, the silent danger. You think you might even be addicted to it. “You're mine now. I don't share.”
“I meant what I said, too,” you reply easily, spreading your fingers apart as your hand drifts closer to his chest so that it lies right over his heart. “I can't imagine letting anyone else touch me after this.”
“Good,” he says simply, satisfied, then rolls you over so that he's on top of you again and starts kissing you once more while his strong body covers you entirely and acts as a barrier between you and the outside world. In here, there is only Wesker. Him, his body, his heat, and his touch. He's all you'll ever need and you know it.