Work Text:
The many fluorescent artificial lights buzzed quietly above you, giving you a chorus of noises that seemed intent on making the situation uncomfortable. The occasional stuttered rattle of his coffee cup as it fought for balance and the shaking of his pens and pencils inside it provided the companion noise to his quieted grunting. The cool wood of the desk squeaked occasionally as you rocked back and forth with Wesker's eb and flow, his pace changing sporadically and seemingly without any concern for you as he did so without warning. Sometimes he seemed like he was teasing you, slowing down to a slow crawl before working to the pace of a rabbit in heat.
Drool dripped over your lips and pooled in a small puddle on his notepad, the words smudged as your spit dribbled. One of his hands was buried in your hair, holding you in place, and the other held the side of your hips loosely to keep you in place as he roughly hoisted your pussy to be level with his cock. Your pussy lips were already bruised and your clit was swollen, but Wesker's attention remained on stuffing his cock back into you as many times as he could take before spilling his load for the 4th of 5th time already this night.
You couldn't be sure which one it was anymore, your brain seemed to have checked out long ago, maybe when he'd first called you in and had you sit under his desk, your face at his groin and his belt on the floor. Your lips around the swollen head of his cock as he practically choked you and forced his full length into your mouth and gagging you. Whenever you cast your gaze back behind you, you'd see his ruffled dirty-blonde hair falling out of its pomade-d style, his S.T.A.R.S. uniform was undone, the buttons open and the sides of his shirt hanging to the side as he yanked you back onto his cock again before slamming you harder against his desk.
His few security measures had been, asking you to lock the door on the way in as well as waiting till everyone else had left the building, and finally closing the blinds. You could appreciate the last one as it not only prevented anyone from somehow seeing you get your brains fucked out, but it also prevented you from catching the reflection of yourself as you let him use you as he wished.
The scratchy material of his pants bit into your legs and you whimpered accordingly, to which he yanked your hair, pulling out a few strands in the process as he scolded you. His voice was cold, you were used to taking orders from him under different circumstances, but this seemed more authoritative than when you were on his payroll. You were at his mercy at the moment, as you had allowed yourself to be many times before. You were used as he pleased a couple nights a week. His first command was always to lock the door, then pull down the blinds. After that, it was up to his whim, and you couldn't find it in yourself to say no.
"You stay quiet unless I tell you otherwise." His tone was low and the odd accent of his voice made you nearly whimper in response. Though you simply nodded shakily as you tried to adjust your hips. Your compliance was met with a curt smile and a quick kiss at the base of your neck as he spoke mirthless-ly. What would've been a compliment or tease seemed demeaning now as he spoke. Just about everyone on the team called you it at some point as a joke. You did what you were told with quick movements and a smile most of the time. Though now the nickname made your stomach twist in sickly knots.
"Good girl." His hand left your waist and your hips hit the desk with a thud as he brushed his hair from his face or in front of his shades. His lanky fingers brushed some of the strands under the bands of his sunglasses. With your occasional backward glances that he allowed you to have, you saw the flicker of orange and yellow, like burning embers held under the choke hold of smoke in the form of his sunglasses. Regardless of the odd shade, you chocked it up to your Captain simply having amber eyes. He yanked your hips back up roughly and without grace as he groaned into your hair, bent over you as his nails dug into the soft flesh of your hips.
With a grunt, he yanked his cock from your gummy walls and dragged the slick covered girth along the shape of your ass before letting it rest at the base of your back. He chuckled to himself before reaching under to wrap his pointer and middle finger around your clit which drove an unsanctioned whimper from your lips. He growled quietly before yanking on your clit, your knee slammed against the bottom of his desk and he abruptly dragged his fingers from your clit to your folds as he pushed them open further than his cock had seemingly forced them to hold even in its absence.
After a few more moments he pushed his fingers into your cunt, your slick dripped down portions of the glove and you stifled your grunt as he began working his fingers in and out of your warm cunt. He shifted his hips and moved his cock to rest against the curve of your ass as he let his pre-cum drip down your thighs. He worked his fingers to force your folds open further, pushing his ring and pinkie in while you fought down the urge and need to squirm and whine in discomfort, knowing it would be met with further aggression from Wesker.
Wesker's teeth found the buttons on your S.T.A.R.S uniform as he popped the top two undone. With a grunt of effort, he held you by your cunt and your shoulders before flipping you onto your back easily. Through means, you knew not, his hand was still practically buried in your walls which fluttered and squeezed, leaving more residue on his glove. Your head hit the desk with a thud, your hands searching to find something to grab, finding the edges of his desk and knocking over his coffee cup and framed photo in the process. His thumb pressed and dragged against your clit as he stared down at you as if you were a worm or bug for him to crush beneath his boot without mercy.
Behind his shades he studied you relentlessly, his jaw set, and his muscles firm outside of the tight collared shirt. Sweat traced down from his neck to a pilgrimage as it fell down his pectorals and his abdomen. With the hand not buried in your cunt, he grabbed your hair and pulled it back so your gaze hit the ceiling and your throat sat exposed. With that opportunity, he bit roughly at your throat, leaving red marks all across your pulsing tendons and the skin covering your wind pipe. He worked his fingers faster out of your cunt, making you whine with every yank, and yet he didn't enforce the violence on you, seemingly enjoying your almost pained noises now. Basking in the fact that you let him act this way without protest no matter how he bruised your cunt.
His teeth eventually left your throat and traveled to your shirt buttons. Yanking the remaining ones off with force before spitting them out to the side haphazardly. When he was done, he took his hand from your hair to rest on your stomach as you panted. He yanked his hand out of your cunt, driving a howl from your lips which was met by him producing the knife from his hip with his slick covered glove. Your mouth shut quickly as he pressed the cool metal to your stomach. Your eyes shot open and you went to protest or cry out for him to stop, though he simply dragged the blade along the front of your bra and pulled up, snapping the wire and the cloth before he pushed aside the material, sheathed the knife and used his now free hand to squeeze one of your breasts tight enough to bruise.
He cast you a toothy sneer of a grin, seemingly reveling in the terror that had overtaken your senses for a moment, that had left you at his mercy long enough that he could've cut your stomach open. The blade lay on your warm flesh, the cool metal of the serrated edge cast a cruel refection of your face as Wesker's grip sent it barely grazing across your skin, your breathing stilling to avoid contact with the weapon as tears pricked your eyes and made you scrunch your face in fear.
"Relax gorgeous." The word was spoken, slathered in sarcasm, though he chuckled and kissed along your naval before taking his cock and pushing it into your throbbing cunt, dripping with slick and his own pre-cum. His hand gripped your breast right enough to bruise and you called out in pain before you were quieted by the sound of his palm hitting your face. The harsh environment and discomfort seemed further emphasized by his command of "Quiet."
Tears welled in your eyes, and you shakily nodded as his cock worked on bruising your cunt more than his fist already had. The assault on your g-spot and clit continued as he dragged his throbbing cock out of your cunt. The blunt head of his dick felt like a dagger in your cunt and your legs pulled up till your knees hit your chest and your toes curled in your socks and boots. The sound of your whine died in your throat, the loudest instrument in the chorus of office noises was the sound of wet skin on skin, his breathing seemed to echo in the office as well, a hiss of an exhale as his breath went through gritted teeth that seemed to occasionally chatter when your walls fluttered and squeezed him tighter.
Your walls fluttered for a moment before you felt your restraint snap and one final snap of his hips against yours pushed you to orgasm, coating his shaft in a ring of white as he pulled out and pushed his girth-y cock back into your abused cunt. He followed quickly afterward and spilled his load into you to the point you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He held still for a few moments inside you as his cock spasmed, though he eventually sat back in his leather seat. You lay splayed out on his desk and your legs trembled. You went to close your knees, but instead he kicked his shiny black shoes and lengthy legs up onto his desk to hold your thighs in place. You whined softly, and he pressed his heel against your flesh tighter as he gritted his teeth.
He spent a few moments rubbing his softening cock, he'd already forced a load down your throat when he'd begun the encounter with you under his desk. Another load was spent in your ass as his "warm-up". Your mind had long since left you but his pussy-drunk mind seemed far clearer than you'd expected as he watched his cum leak out of you. The warm interior of the office left the cum dribbling out and pooling on to the notepad already stained with your drool.
What caught you off guard was the sound of the office door squeaking open and a stunned Chris stared ahead with his mouth opening and closing like a codfish. At this, Wesker shot you a glare and spoke as he zipped his pants up as he spoke with a surprisingly apathetic if not disgruntled tone. "I told you to lock the door."