Day 344

Emily was sitting at the kitchen table, her fingers absently playing with the tag of her teabag, tearing tiny pieces off and discarding them next to her cup. Her focus was engrossed on the man that had occupied her every thought for almost an entire year now.

She observed him as he sat at his desk his back turned to her, transcribing his notes into the computer, typing whatever was required to be typed for the execution of his scheme for world domination.

Five days ago, he had compelled her to spill the contents of her heart in the most despicable and manipulative way and once again, nothing had been offered to her in return, with the exception of a mind blowing orgasm.

As every day elapsed, her mind struggled with her heart increasingly, her rationality slowly taking over and forcing her to question further the veracity of her feelings towards him. Even if her heart was undoubtedly convinced of the fondness she bore for the tyrant, her mind had to deal with the hazy confusion her feelings generated.

Some days she was persuaded she hated him, other days she was tempted to believe she truly loved him. But everyday left her with an insatiable feeling of emptiness, an irritability that could only grow in intensity.

Not even two weeks ago, she had been convinced the end of her life was a forthcoming fatality when he had discovered her work on the T-Veronica virus was complete. She waited petrified for the last judgment. She waited, and waited, but nothing happened...

Instead, the blonde man unexpectedly suggested for her to document the work achieved in the last year, which she obediently executed. After a few interminable days of organizing biological reports and documents, she inquired for additional work, the task given to her already complete. He answered by inviting her to propose new applications for the virus, even holding the prospect of creating a vaccine for it or crossing it with another virus.

Emily felt those "new" tasks had neither legitimacy nor purpose. She knew it, he knew it, but he had requested them nonetheless. It felt as only an excuse to keep her alive and by his side without having to deal with the issue. The issue of admitting his true intention towards her. The issue of defining her meaning in his life.

As the days slipped away, the certainty he was incapable of neither killing her nor getting rid of her was flourishing in her mind. Yes, it was flourishing, but it had yet to be proven and she found herself yearning to find the answer.

Unfortunately, the task at hand was no cakewalk. If she resorted to her old ways, things would only grow sour. If she inquired for answers, he would only withdraw further and she could potentially lose him forever. She had experienced his violent response to her plea for love in the past and had learned to never insist and to satisfy herself with his benevolent contributions.

However, the experience of being so close to the end only a couple of weeks ago had opened her eyes and she was ready to face the truth. She was ready to wake up from her delusions, and she was ready to expose him.

She truly only required one thing: to fill the hole of incertitude in her mind. To find a conclusion to this story. To put a period at the end of the sentence.

The story, her story, required to reach its conclusion. "And they lived happily, forever after" or "And she was rejected and tossed away" or "And she died, freeing herself from the Tyrant."

Once his admittance of his love was declared to her, she would offer her love back and her nightmare would come to an end. The pains and struggles she had endured under his custody would suddenly find a purpose. The last year of her life he had scammed her off would be restored to her. She could simply call it a bad chapter of her existence culminating to a happy conclusion instead of the tragic ending it was progressing towards.

After all, she never had any justifications for being so enamored with the man. The only way her love could make sense was if she had his in return. Otherwise, she was nothing more than a sad Stockholm syndrome victim who developed disturbing feelings for the monster oppressing her.

Yes, this was how the situation would unfold. This was the only possible outcome...

Ultimately, what else could happen? Would he drag her along for years and years to come, pretending of her triviality in his life and fabricating excuses, up until he would grow tired of her and finally dismiss her? Or would she opt to take her own life before it even came to this eventuality…?

Either he admitted his love to her, or this was over. She refused to be a victim any longer.

This charade could not carry on forever. She could not carry on forever in this state of ambiguity. After all, this uncertainty was devouring her, as if she was falling head first into a bottomless pit.

She would unearth the truth tonight. No matter the consequences, no matter the cost.

No, this was not even about knowing anymore, but rather a game. A game she had to win.

Yes, he had to spit it out.

This needed to come to an end.

Right here, right now.

Determined, Emily stood up and walked briskly to the man causing her every torment. Her hand closed around the back of his computer chair and spun it towards her.

One eyebrow cocked over the brim of his sunglasses as Wesker observed her climb onto his lap and straddle him. One of her hand reached for the sunglasses and placed them delicately on his desk as he encircled her with strong arms.

She bore her eyes into his and bit her bottom lip, summoning all of her courage for the upcoming task.

"Albert…?" she asked timidly.

"Yes, dear heart?"

Sweaty hands were pressed against his shoulders as she made every attempt to control her anxious breath. Thoughts that were clear a few seconds ago suddenly became a jumble of words that she could not replace in the proper order. His insistent stare only caused her courage to crumble like a fragile house of cards.

"I just want to hear it once… Just once…" she blurted out disjointedly, her determination faltering.

Those were not the words the brunette had meant to say. It was not even close to the essence of the point she had wished to convey. Her plea had heaved out of her mouth uncontrollably, like vomit expelled by her desire to satisfy her insecurities.

If she had wished to sabotage herself, she could not have done a better job.

Wesker closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

Were they truly back to this nonsense? Had she not evolved the slightest since their last altercation? Had she not learned her lesson?

"Just once…" she insisted, her eyes pleading.

An irritability and controlled anger built dangerously on his features, his hands tightly clenching the skin of her back.

His reaction terrified her and all of her brave convictions from a minute ago completely deserted her. She felt the tears welling at the corners of her eyes, but fought them off from cascading down her cheeks. With effort, she opened her mouth and forced the words to be expelled.

"Just say it… Even if it's not felt, even if you don't care about me… Just say it once… Lie to me, I don't care anymore, but please, say it…" she beseeched him, her voice breaking from the emotion and her hands desperately clasping the fabric of his shirt.

Calling her attempt to pry it out of him pathetic was an understatement. Never had she imagined failing so miserably at retaining her composure, but it could not be helped... She craved to hear the words, she necessitated to awake from this nightmare.

She was slowly driving herself crazy. He was slowly driving her crazy.

It had to come to an end. It had to…

Wesker's cynical smirk made an appearance, his eyes stubbornly kept closed, his indifference a cold blade into her burning wound.

"Why won't you do one thing for me, for once? Why won't you do what I want, just this one time?" she implored him, irked.

The tyrant deigned reopening his eyes, only to shoot daggers her way, his nostrils flaring.

"You don't understand, dear," he paused purposely; his head brought mere inches from hers, annoyance plastered all over his features that were twisted into a sneer. "It's not about what you want, it's about what I want," he hissed between his teeth.

Fingers curled painfully around her upper arm and shooed her off his lap. He spun the chair and resumed the cleanup of his notes, ignoring her presence.

Her hands curled into fists as she glared at him furiously, refusing to allow him to triumph over her, to allow him to once again dismiss her so selfishly.

His mistreatment had belatedly restored all the courage she had previously gathered.

Today was the day this game would come to an end and she would fight for her victory.

Emily's hand reached over Wesker's shoulder and grabbed the notes that were capturing his attention. In a swift motion, she tossed the notepad violently to the side, the entirety of her meager strength employed in the task.

The sheets flew in all directions as the pad hit the wall, a loud thump echoing in the entire room.

Enraged, the blonde rose from his chair and faced her, the rapidity of his movements a blur to her eyes.

A wicked smile formed on the woman's generally innocent features, pride flashing across her eyes. The sweet taste of revenge was intoxicating.

Unexpectedly, Wesker stormed in her direction. Her instincts kicking in, Emily backed away from his threatening course. They walked in unison, him forward, her backward, their motions reminiscent of a dance, as if every step had been choreographed.

He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, so did she. His hand slid unceremoniously on the back of her head and jerked it towards him in a whiplash. A glowing red light illuminated his feline orbs as he stared daggers at her, the breeze of his fuming breath grazing her forehead from the proximity of his face with hers.

Unfaltering, Emily stared back at the tyrant, the same devilish smile clouding her expression.

She watched as his hand lifted over her head, ready to strike a deadly blow. Ready to humiliate her. Ready to prove to her once and for all who was in command. Ready to pound into her thick skull that she should never dare to defy him ever again.

Emily's smile grew wider, challenging him.

A few months ago, she would have crumbled in front of him, she would have begged him to forgive her for her insubordination. A few months ago, she would have bowed down like the worthless and pathetic crybaby that she was.

Not anymore.

The moments of true intimacy they had shared together, moments where he had revealed himself to her, had given her strength. She was no longer his prisoner, but rather the woman he shared bits and pieces of his life with.

Those events had helped her to reclaim her dignity, helped her to retrieve part of her old self. It provided her with the courage to face him and oppose him.

Go ahead, hit me! Hit me! And you'll see what will happen once you do... Watch me lose all respect for you, all love for you...

The brunette radiated the image of somebody that had nothing and everything to lose simultaneously and would be willing to throw it all away if only to finally reach her finality. It was an ugly view and also unfamiliar territory to him.

Minutes passed as Wesker and Emily glared at each other defiantly, the only sound in the room the one from the blonde's raging breath.

Finally, Wesker lowered his arm, stopping himself before committing the irreparable. A panic suddenly overwhelmed him as he realized what he had come so close to do, embarrassment shimmering through his normally expressionless eyes.

His sunglasses were retrieved from his desk before he stormed out of his quarters, slamming the door behind him.

Drained from the heated encounter, Emily crashed onto the bed, her body feeling as heavy as lead. The comfort she used to find in her delusions had been shattered in thousands of pieces.

For hours she lied lifeless on the bed, exhaustion prohibiting her from lamenting her broken heart. Her livid glance was fixated on the wall, the plain beige of the paint an indiscernible blur. Excruciatingly slowly, the life was being sucked out of her from his mistreatment.

"You're a pathetic little thing… You love a man that doesn't give a rat's ass about you, that would be willing to hurt you for his own benefits. What kind of woman are you?" she thought bitterly to herself.

She hated him… She hated herself…

The minutes of internal self-loathing quickly became hours and before she even realized it, four hours had passed. The familiar sound of keys being inserted in the lock awakened her from her slumber.

The brunette's eyes averted to the man responsible for her affliction. His stiff demeanor betrayed a lingering annoyance, however his mood appeared to have improved; the anger that had twisted his features earlier had dissipated.

Slowly, Wesker undressed himself, disposing his turtleneck and dress pants in the hamper and putting his sunglasses down on the dresser. As he did so, her body shifted back towards the wall and she resumed gazing lividly, leaving him to stare dully at her back.

For a few minutes he stood still and watched her ignore him completely, his only attire his undergarments.

Even though he was still prickled by their altercation, sooner or later, the situation would need to be resolved. The quicker they came to a resolution, the quicker they could resume this farce of a liaison he refused to define.

This whole situation reminded him why he had always avoided getting himself involved in a relationship like the plague.

Slowly and still unsure of how to maneuver, the blonde sat on the side of the bed, his back turned to hers. A reassuring hand was placed gently on her shoulder as a peace offering as he shifted his shoulders in her direction.

Emily sighed heavily, then turned to lay on her back, deigning to set her sights on him. Her doe eyes were filled with a plethora of emotions: love, irritability, bitterness, hatred... However, the one sticking out like a sore thumb was her absolute weariness as if her will to carry on had sunk into oblivion.

Touched by the pitiful view, he tossed the anger aside and let his hand caress her cheek softly, ensuring his expression would not betray the internal fight within him. The hand moved down and rested on her stomach, his fingers smoothing the fabric of her blouse absently.

"What did you think, dear heart?" he asked perplexed. "That because we shared a few moments of intimacy, that I would suddenly develop an indisputable fondness for you and everything would change?" As the words escaped his mouth, his irritation reemerged and the venom was expelled. "Did I not warn you? Did I not repeat several times that I will never become a different man?" Despite the resentment boiling within, no note of aggressivity could be discerned in his tone, as if to deflect the conversation from turning sour too quickly.

If love had transpired through those soft brown eyes a few minutes ago, it vanished instantly.

"Why do you have to be so cruel?" she asked dumbfounded, shaking her head in disbelief, the frustration in her voice in broad daylight.

"You're doing that to yourself, Emily. I am cruel because you leave me no other choice," he stated matter-of-factly.

She sniggered.

"Oh, is this what you tell yourself to feel better?" she huffed derisively.

He chuckled darkly, looking highly amused.

"Feel better?" One brow was cocked in a mocking sneer. "Don't flatter yourself, dear heart, I don't feel any guilt towards you. I don't need to tell myself anything to feel better. Being cruel to you is not an obstacle to me," he lied, his deadpan expression resurfacing quickly. "As I said, you leave me no other choice," he declared almost robotically.

Lips pursed in frustration, she stared at him bitterly for a few seconds. The tension between the two could be cut with a knife.

"Maybe you're the one that wants me to be cruel to you, hmm?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "Otherwise, you would simply drop the subject…" Her silence convinced him to carry on; the point needed to be made. "Surely you knew this relationship was not possible? Surely, you knew who I am? You want a happy ending to your tragic story, Miss Reynolds? There won't be one, give up already," he announced harshly, the exasperation that crept in his voice betraying his soreness of the situation.

She closed her eyes, his indifference affecting her. She sighed, feeling the tears sneaking in slowly.

No, this could only be bullshit and she was fed up with it… Answers, she needed answers!

"Why can't you just love me, Albert?" she asked vulnerable, reopening her eyes. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, her previous indignation replaced by desperation.

The blonde man had refused to pay attention to her words. In a way, he had been living in his own delusions as well, his head deep in the sand. He had pretended the problem was nonexistent when it could only grow disproportionately. He had silenced her deftly for months now, but, sooner or later, answers would be demanded out of him. He should consider himself lucky his cheap scheme had sustained for this long. He had been naive to believe brushing her off and distracting her would be an infallible tactic.

Yet, dealing with her this way was the only way that he knew…

Still seated on the bed, Wesker leaned over Emily and captured her wrists with both hands in a tight grip, pinning them against the mattress. He towered over her, their faces mere inches apart. His stare was insistent, his feline eyes bearing an unsettling seriousness. The message required to be loud and clear.

"Stop pushing the boundaries, Emily. Your expectations are unrealistic. You will never obtain what you want from me..." his voice was as still as water, as cold as ice. It was a warning, a threat, an order and an advice all together. "Never," he reiterated, ensuring this would get through her thick skull. "I'm not that kind of man, Emily..." he finished, his voice slightly softer.

The tears escaped her eyes and covered her reddened cheeks in torrents. His words hurt, but were filled with an undeniable truth. They held the essence of the problem: he would never be available emotionally.

It was no surprise. After all, it was not as if she had not experienced in the past the consequences of demanding for a return of her love, nor had she forgotten the painful accident of a few months ago when he had savagely abused her after she had requested to hear the three infamous words.

But this game of pretense and sham, she refused to play it any longer. Deep down, she could almost feel it. Deep down, she could nearly discern through the layers of polish, apathy and detachment the veritable meaning that she held in his heart. His behaviors had betrayed him too many times.

I've had it…

"What is so shameful in loving me, Albert?" she demanded agitated. "Why can't you just pronounce three simple little words? Why?" she cried inconsolable, the words piercing through her heart as they escaped her mouth.

As stoic as a statue, Wesker observed Emily in silence after setting back in his original position, sitting stiffly on the bed.

The look of desolation and disillusions she bestowed upon him tugged a few strings in his heart.

What answers could he give to those questions? What deceit could he fabricate this time that could quench her need to expose him? Everything else he had tried had failed. They had played this game too many times already. There was only the truth left to say to fix the situation and he was resolved to never disclose it.

Telling the truth would betray everything he was and ever had been. He could never admit his love to her… Albert Wesker could never admit his weaknesses…

There was always the possibility of reverting back to his old ways by pushing her away or being tyrannical to her. She would possibly get off his back, but he would also take the risk of being rejected permanently. Moments of intimacy would be snatched from his grasp forever. Her frantic heartbeat reverberating against his chest as the weight of his body pinned her against the mattress, his full length pulsating in the palm of her hand as she slaved herself to pleasure him. The idea of losing those opportunities was unfathomable.

No, he was too involved now. There was no turning back…

Emily's melt down deteriorated with every minute, her wailing unstoppable. At a loss at how to handle the situation anymore and touched by her desperation, he bent down and brushed the tears with his fingers. His comfort was his own way of apologizing.

Irked and tired with Wesker's attitude, the brunette shooed his hand off briskly, sending it flying with the back of her hand. She turned her back to him and resumed her weeping in a silent fashion this time, embarrassed by the display she allowed him to witness.

"Leave me alone, Albert," she pleaded.

"No," he stated firmly.

"Please…"

"I said no."

"Leave me alone," she shrieked urgently.

"Enough!" he hissed between his teeth.

"Leave me alone… I don't want to see you. I don't want to feel you next to me. I don't want you to touch me. Go!" she screamed hysterically.

Exhausted and puzzled, Wesker collected his head in the palm of his hands and sighed heavily. He felt pulled in so many directions emotionally. Being rejected so hotly irritated him, it even unadmittedly hurt him. Yet, the anguish in her words and her tone was reaching his frigid heart.

Leaning down and resting one hand on the bed next to her head, he rubbed his cheek against hers, torn between toying with her and showing genuine affection. Within him, his emotions were in a never-ending fight, annoyance and devotion sharing a dance.

Incapable of controlling it, his irritation won and prickled her.

"Simply because I have revealed some of myself to you does not change anything and never will. Stop fooling yourself already! How many times will I have to repeat myself for you to finally accept reality?"

His lips brushed against the outside of her ear as his words cut through the heavy silence. His voice was a mix between a growl and a whisper.

Emily's hand curled around the blonde's upper arm. She dug her nails into his flesh, offended by his callous words but also slightly aroused by the proximity of his body, by his seductive voice caressing her ear.

God, she hated him… She hated him for the simple fact that, within a few minutes, she knew perfectly his expertly crafted bullshit would be swallowed willingly. Charmed and seduced once more, naked and fully hoping to be possessed by him like he only knew how.

The brunette's delicate scent invaded the tyrant's nostrils causing his resistance to weaken and his demeanor to soften up. His lips lingered on her neck and kissed the tender flesh affectionately. Careful fingers collected her hair and moved it aside, exposing the nape of her neck and the back of her ears. Trails of additional kisses were left to melt her stiffness.

The anger was seething inside of him, but he battled against it once again. His true desire was to be soft to her, to treat her the way she deserved to be treated. His words represented his rationality, but his movements were led by his emotions. Betrayed by his love and controlled by his temper.

Emily closed her eyes, uselessly fighting a battle she could never win by finding the courage within her to resist the urge to reciprocate his affection.

"Please, Albert, leave me alone…" she pushed the words out with difficulty, unsure if it was her true desire anymore.

The tears resurfaced as she jerked her body away from him, his temporary distraction insufficient to calm the storm raging inside of her.

The urgency to fix this situation was imminent; letting her dwell in this state of desperation could only allow the situation to escalate. Distracting her further was the only solution he could offer, the only solution that could temporarily quiet her.

Taking the matter into his own hands, Wesker stood up, crawled into the bed and sat on his knees at her feet. A gentle hand was pressed against her stomach to force her to lay on her back. Her legs were spread as he moved closer, towering over her frail body.

Misshapen snake eyes were focused on her, an unfamiliar softness permeating in them.

The brunette woman eyed him curiously, puzzled by his behavior.

I've had it with this rollercoaster of emotions... One second he's looking at me tenderly, the next he tears me apart mercilessly... I can't take this anymore... He's driving me completely insane... God, I just can't take this anymore...

Covering her face with her hands, she resumed her strenuous weeping, incapable of controlling herself any longer. The months of exhaustion and stress exited her body all at once. The reason behind her endless cries somewhat escaped her. She cried for crying. She cried because it was the only thing at the moment that made sense and put a balm on her wounds.

"You could simply love me, Albert. You could treat me properly… Everything could be so simple if only… But instead you're always so mean to me… So cruel… What did I do to deserve this? Why are you so horrible to me, Albert? Why?" she inquired desperately, her muffled voice trailing painfully on every word.

Emily sounded broken down, on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

She had lost it…

She had begged the tyrant to leave her alone, but he forced his presence on her. Those words were not meant to be heard by him, but rather to stay in the confines of her mind as she lamented and self-pitied herself.

He had insisted on staying by her side, so she let him have it.

"Because that is who I am. I am cruel. I am mean. I am insensible. I am manipulative. I am selfish. Remember? Those were your exact words. I am all of those things, Emily, and even worse… " he declared solemnly, believing every word.

There was no trace of anger left in her body that could have been triggered by his words. Even the agony that had invaded her a few seconds ago seemed to suddenly desert her. She sighed and stared at him, exhausted from the deluge of emotions she had experienced in the last hours.

The words the blonde had just spoken were empty, as his following actions contradicted them.

Sitting on his knees, one by one, he gathered her feet in his hands and placed one on each of his shoulders. Reaching under her black pencil skirt, his fingers stopped on the hem of her stockings and pulled gently, rolling them down her thighs. The tips of his fingers brushed her skin lightly in their slow movements.

Shuddering lids covered Emily's tired eyes, the sensation soothing and enticing.

Once both stockings were disposed off, Wesker gathered one of her feet in his hands and brought it to his lips. Special care was given to every parcel of skin covering it. Gentle kisses and soft nibbles were left on the top, the arch, the heel, the ankle and the toes. To conclude, he ran his tongue in between every toe then sucked on them one by one, his insistent stare devouring her hungrily.

"I'm only doing this because you are forcing me to, dear heart..." he suddenly let out, referring to his previous statement. His velvety voice contrasted with the harshness of his words.

Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, Emily ignored the remark, his nurturing of her foot her only focus at the moment.

Maintaining the contradiction between his words and his actions, the tyrant gathered her other foot and offered it the same treatment.

A few timid moans escaped the brunette's lips as her breath accelerated.

Slowly moving his way up, his fingers glided over the smooth skin, discovering every segment of her legs, while his mouth was busy following his hands. His lips brushed against the skin nimbly, travelling from her ankle to her thighs, without neglecting sensitive spots like the back of her knees.

As his hands busied themselves with the zipper of her skirt, his lips lingered on the portion of her thighs covered by the fabric.

Carefully, Wesker relieved Emily of her skirt, revealing her undergarment. A smirk played on his lips as he realized she was wearing a pair of the expensive underwear he had purchased for her several months ago: the lacy and delicate white one he adored. One of his favorites.

Taking hold of the rim of her blouse, he lifted it slightly and peeked under the fabric, revealing the matching bra to the underpants. His smile grew wider, satisfied by the view.

His lips resumed their tender kisses, lingering on her inner thighs.

"Dear heart…" he purred, unable to contain himself. His cheek and nose rubbed against her folds over the fabric of her undergarment a few times. She yelped every time, her nails buried into the sheets.

"Do you want me to be cruel to you? Is that what you want?" he whispered against her skin, asking rhetorically, his head still cradled between her legs.

"Albert..." she pleaded, exasperated.

"Answer me..." he suddenly insisted, raising his head so his cold snake eyes met hers.

"Of course not..."

"Then don't force me to say things that I have no wish to say to you..." he conceded, resuming his loving care of her thighs.

With every minute passing, the barriers he had worked tirelessly to erect around him were collapsing. The lies would get mingled with the truth and the game would no longer be one, his words opening up to the truth a little more with every thought escaping his mouth.

It was not a warning anymore, but simply the contents of his heart.

Tugging on the fabric with his teeth and the tips of his finger, the brunette's undergarment was removed delicately, the blonde's eyes never leaving hers as he slaved to the task. Once the piece of clothing was discarded, he offered her his hand.

She hesitated a moment, still skeptical this display of affection on his part could truly mend her wounds, then finally took it.

Pulling her towards him, Wesker sat up as Emily straddled him, her knees rested on the bed.

His mouth was fused with hers, his tongue begging for entry.

Her hands drifted under the undershirt he had left on, wishing to relieve him of any pieces of clothing left on his body. Emulating her gesture, his sure hands unbuttoned her blouse as his slick tongue still bathed hers. The pieces of clothing were discarded hastily.

Her hands roamed all over his pectorals and stomach, then settled on his back, hugging him with all the strength she could muster. Her attitude was finally one of submission, of passion.

His hands moved to her breasts, squeezing and cupping them gently over the fabric of her bra.

The blonde man stopped abruptly, breaking the kiss. His eyes settled on hers, the usually threatening misshaped irises bearing a disconcerting seriousness.

"Albert…" Emily breathed heavily, questioning why he would put an end to such a pleasant moment.

He cupped her face.

The following warning would be one verbalized out of love, in hopes to put an end to her insatiable need for his affection, so he would never be forced to hurt her again.

"Stop asking questions that I cannot answer..." he stated firmly, but softly.

"You can't or you won't?"

"Does it really matter?"

The brunette closed her eyes, consciously letting herself sink back into her delusions by the simple choice of his words.

"It does to me... You can't or you won't?" she insisted, reopening her eyes.

The tyrant's hands smoothed over her breasts once more, the clever distraction lacking in subtlety. His attempt was almost successful as she closed her eyes and moaned, but stopped herself just in time to tighten her grips around his wrists, tugging at his arms to convince him to answer her question.

Seeing as she would not abide, Wesker's hands closed around Emily's hips and turned her over, her weight a puny mass to his inhuman strength. With both her legs astride of his, his strong arms enfolded around her stomach and entrapped her. He pressed her soft back against his chest as her rear brushed against his aching rod.

One hand unclasped her bra and discarded it while the other one glided over one of her erected mount, cupping it and kneading it gently. His fingers deftly caressed the hardened point causing her to exhale loudly through her parted lips.

At first Emily tossed her head, resting it on his shoulder, then she turned it to bury her face in the crook of his neck. Her warm breath was caressing his skin, bringing him the comfort that he could still exploit her at his mercy even after rejecting her so cruelly. She felt his erection against the small of her back, the member prodding with more vigor with every exhalation grazing his skin. His lips were fused with her trembling ones, silencing the wanton moans.

Everything about her made him feel helpless; he could not possibly help it. His mouth left the comfort of hers to brush her ear, letting the words slip out of his mouth.

"Both..." he conceded in only a whisper as one of his hand slid down purposely.

Surgeon fingers found the delicate organ, and lapped around it. She bit her bottom lip, silencing the cry of pleasure about to escape her mouth, his distraction triumphant.

"I'm not the good man for you, dear heart... Just give up already..." he admitted, exposing himself further.

"Albert… Don't say that…" she pleaded, gathering the willpower to shush him through the rush of pleasure.

"Don't force me to hurt you..."

"Albert…"

"Don't force me to hurt you..."

"Albert… Please…"

"I don't want to hurt you..." he whispered in her ear, his voice charged with emotion.

One of Emily's hands desperately attempted to reach down and find his throbbing member to silence him, but it only resulted in him pressing her more possessively against him. Taking hold of himself with the hand that had been occupied with pleasuring her a few seconds ago, he nudged at her entrance, ready to make her his.

"Don't let me hurt you, dear heart... I don't want to..."

And with one swift thrust, he won her over.

I think it's safe to say that Emily is going completely wacko banana! ._. Can't really blame her, she's been in this hell for almost an entire year now...

My apologies for taking a bit too long to update. I wanted to post this chapter during the holidays, but I opted to use my vacation to simply rest (i.e. play video games).

I wanted to warn everybody that I will be revising previous chapters before I post the next chapter. I recently reread the entire fic and I feel there's some serious lack of cohesiveness. Not in the story itself, but rather in the way it's written. I think my English has improved a lot since I started (8 years ago...) and I would like the entire fic to be more consistent. And I really want to do this before I post the last chapter and seeing as there's only 3 chapters left, now is the good time! Chapters 1 to 13 need some serious rework. chapters 14 to 24 a bit of work (mostly breaking down massive paragraphs, cutting a few things and rephrasing a few other things) and I'm fairly happy with chapters 25 to 34, but I will still go through them again just in case.

I was really happy to see that most of you that used to read this last summer are still out there! :) Thank you very much for the sweet reviews and the encouragement in regards to my health! :)

Lorraynne : I know, Wesker is such a stud, right? I want him all for myself! D: I'm really happy you're enjoying the story so much and I hope the ending won't disappoint you! :)

As usual, please don't be shy to leave a review, it greatly helps me motivate myself to keep working on the fic! :) I wouldn't be so close to finish this story if it wasn't for all of you and your super sweet words! I LOVE YOU ALL! *hugs*