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She'd forgotten what it felt like to have adrenaline pump into her veins for reasons other than saving the world from an apocalypse. Months of avoiding monsters, lying to law enforcement, escaping exploding laboratories, had led her to wind herself up further and further. Even the sight of him, his hair still a poofy mess and his face in need of a shave, couldn't quite break through the walls she'd built around herself.
But, then he touched her. He held her. The callouses on his hands had softened with the time he'd been in hiding, making a smooth touch that warmed her aching ribs. His kiss melted the stresses like a torch over ice cream, first just the corner of her mouth, then his lips on her own. He smelled good, earthy and clean, compared to the sweat-soaked gunpowder-laden scent of his body back then... back then, she remembered, flashes of flames and blood and horrible screams.
Yet he gasped into her and she was back in the moment. Eyes open, focused on his puppy-dog face and little smile. "Welcome home, supercop."
Their bodies found their way to the couch of the apartment. He didn't force anything, just held her and touched her with the tender fingertips and mouth of a man loving a woman. Jill's body relaxed. She'd forgotten what her past self had been, other than a distant dream in a faraway space-time. The terrible sacrifices of being her own person became vividly thin veils that were pulled and tossed in the laundry. She needed this, needed him, to soothe her wounds.
It was only a few minutes when she dozed off, hearing his breathing as the last bit of sensation before her eyes shut and she was asleep.
There were, mercifully, no dreams for Jill Valentine to be disturbed by.
A dim moonlight from the window and the hum of a computer in the corner were there to greet her first when she awoke. Sheets covered her body, still dressed but without her boots. She'd been tucked in sweetly to the point she could still feel his kiss on her temple. When she blinked to let the world in, breathed in the clean central air with its hint of cleaning products and a partly open window, Jill found a surprising urge she had not felt in weeks. She clamped her thighs together, caressed them with a hand reaching down.
Then she looked to see if he was there... and he was; on his side with his back turned and the blanket only going up to his knees. The flannel shirt around his torso was untucked and buttoned down, and his jeans were loose.
Jill made her move on Carlos. There was no stealth in her action, which seemed to surprise him more when he stirred. He'd been awake, she could tell from his breathing. But he gasped all the same when she wrapped an arm around him, spooned up against his body. Warmth from his back passed through her tee-shirt, making her notice how hard her nipples were. He shuffled into her embrace, while grabbing for her hand to hold.
He almost said her name, but her lips kissed his neck before he could get the sound out. Hands moved down his furry tummy to his jeans front, her fingers unlocking his buttons and zipper with a masterful speed. It'd only been seconds, then her hands were in front of his briefs. She had him hard, very hard, even more than the last time they'd done it. Finally, he said the words, "I waited for you."
Just the sound of his hunger for her made Jill shudder. She reached into his underwear past the his thatch, then took hold and stroked him, in time with her own heartbeat. The groan out of his throat was a choked sound, as if were Carlos to let it out, he'd end things too quickly. His fingers wrapped around her wrist and stopped her movements. "Allow me," he sighed. Then he was shuffling around to face her and she in turn undressed as fast as possible. Her shirt was flung across the bed, bra followed, and he helped her get the pants off.
By the time she was naked, her heart wouldn't stop pounding even if she gave it everything she had to slow it down. He nestled in atop her, hair tickling her thighs, then hips. His fingers started at her knees, while his lips landed around her navel. Jill moaned shamelessly as he kissed his way up to her breasts. His tongue tasted her fresh sweat, traced wet lines around her areolas, and then he took her nipple into his mouth. Her back arched into it, saying yes, saying more, saying everything. Meanwhile, he teased her thighs, spread them as they shook when he pursed his lips around her brown nipple tight as he could then pulled his head back.
Carlos' greatest gift was his warm heart. He would fight to the bitter end for what was right and he would give love as gently or as strongly as desired. Jill was reminded of this the moment his teeth caressed, but did not bite, her nipples. Her breath became ragged when his hands found their way to her groin and circled around her mons. She thrust her hips at him, bucking his mouth off her right breast. "Stop fucking around and do it," she gasped. "Yes, ma'am," he chuckled with hot breath across her chest. At last, he slipped his right hand's fingers, pointing like a gun in his hand, down across her slit.
She wanted to say she came on the spot, but it was just close enough to the edge she could peer right into that abyss. Jill sobbed, making him rise up and kiss her lips. Tears fell from her eyes and Carlos kissed those, too. She humped at his hand and he fingered her sweetly, petting inside her pussy like defusing a bomb that was just lonely, scared, and needed help. His other arm went around her waist and up her back; he held her up and to him, while his fingers caressed her depths. Jill reached up to his body and clutched at his arms, his broad muscled shoulders. He was so there and present and everything she needed right then. Another sob, more tears, led to more kisses. Carlos nuzzled her forehead and sped up his hand below.
"It's okay, Jill. You're safe. I'm here."
"I'm so close," she whispered, not even sure why she did so.
"Tell me." He thumbed her clit. She shuddered, heat rising, flowing through her. It was a cleansing fire, a flood to wash away the horrors, to fill her with memories of juvenile dalliances, summer days in the forest, parties in an empty high school, a room full of joy and laughter. And there was the intimacy of the now, a fresh new thing; his hair, his face, his breath, his voice. She opened her eyes and he hadn't stopped looking at her for even a second.
"I'm so close!" she gasped.
"Yeah?" he chuckled. His lips fell into a smile like a puppy flopping onto a pillow.
"I'm going to come!" she grit her teeth, but dared not shut her eyes. Her voice became pleading.
"I can't hear you!" he growled.
"I'M CLOSE!" she shouted back, desperate.
"Do you want me to stop?!" he was almost yelling. His hand was fierce then; he fingered her harder, faster.
"NO!"
"Then let go, supercop. Let go. Come for me, come for me, come FOR ME," he was panting himself, grunting with the effort, as he tried to rip off the edges of her anxious mind.
It came rushing at her like a tidal wave, a memory she hadn't thought of in years, being bowled over and falling deep. But instead of fear, it was passion. Comfort. Safety. She came, undone and freed, in his arms. All the memories whisked away as breath pulled into her lungs air that was clean, smells of her body and his mingling, the feel of the sheets below her body, the gentle glow of the incandescent light, the droplets of his sweat landing on her breast. To say nothing of the waves of hot relief that flowed across her, cleansed her, and her clenching muscles unknotting every pain she carried.
For a brief moment, she was let go from being the heroic Jill Valentine, and allowed to be just Jill...
Her eyes had shut before she realized it'd happen and as she caught her breath, felt her pulse come back down, she opened them once more to see him looking on like an affectionate puppy concerned for its owner. She reached a hand into his dense curls and brought him to her lips, making a loud kissy noise that made them both giggle. "Thank you," she softly said. His not-juicy hand reached for her cheek, only for a thumb to wipe away a tear she hadn't noticed falling.
"Anytime," he breathed.