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You're used to being Albert's stress relief, honestly. You like it rough sometimes and you'd probably do almost anything if he said he liked it simply because his pleasure is your pleasure. You like seeing his face twist up in ecstasy because of you, you like that something as simple as your body can unravel him in ways nothing else can or does. You've tried a lot of things in bed since entering a relationship with him, from the deepest, darkest fantasies you had that you thought would die in your imagination, to things you never thought you would enjoy. But regardless of the particular kink you're engaging in at any given time, submitting to him and letting him take the reins is always the primary activity.
You just like turning your brain off sometimes and letting him call the shots. Besides, being in control gives him comfort, makes him feel at ease, and when things don't go his way in real life, having absolute control over you in a sexual setting seems to soothe him in a way nothing else does.
When he gets home that day, you know that Albert had a horrible day at work. He's still in his work uniform from the RPD – he usually makes it a point to change into civvies before coming home because he hates being a cop but he hates people seeing him dressed like one even more – which tells you all you need to know. He barely even looks at you when he enters the living room, just quietly mumbling a greeting before he starts taking his gloves off, almost ripping them apart as he yanks on the rough, worn material roughly in order to remove them faster. Concerned for his state of mind and wanting to help, you step up to him and put a quelling hand on his forearm.
Blue eyes cold like ice stare down at you over the rims of his glasses in silence while he waits for you to speak. The look doesn't hurt your feelings because you know that he's trying very hard to keep his anger on the inside instead of taking it out on you, so that means he doesn't have much space for softness at the moment.
“Take it out on me. Don't hurt yourself,” you say simply, knowing that, before you, whenever he got like this, he'd either punch a hole in the wall until his knuckles bled or find the nearest boxing ring and punch a bag until his knuckles bled. Neither of which appeals to you at the moment.
Albert stares at you without saying a word for long minutes. His eyes are an endless ocean – vast and freezing and you could so easily drown in it and sink to the bottom if you weren't careful. But you love him and you trust this man; he would never hurt you in any way you don't want to be hurt.
“Are you sure?”
Holding his gaze steadily, you nod. “Yes.”
“You remember your safe word?”
You give him another nod. “Yes.”
He sighs, letting his hands drop down to his sides before he rolls his shoulders and steps away from you, falling heavily in the middle of the couch and patting his thighs.
“Alright then. You know the drill.”
With a small smile, you scramble to follow the indirect order. You climb on the couch and drape yourself over his lap until your ass is sticking out right over his spread thighs. He smooths a hand over your clothed cheeks, the touch warm and grounding, before he brings his hand down and gives you your first smack. It doesn't hurt terribly – between his light hand and the fabric covering your skin, it's barely anything at all – but the impact makes you yelp.
“I've had it up to here with your incompetence, rookie,” Albert growls, real anger and frustration seeping into his voice now that you've begun. Your heart twists – you hate hearing this side of him because you hate seeing him upset – but your stomach tightens with anticipation at what's to come.
“I'm sorry, sir. I'll do better, I promise.”
“You always say that and yet you never fucking do better. I have to clean up after you every damn time.” The next slap comes down harder, jolting you and making you yelp again. It still doesn't hurt all that badly but it's getting there. “You won't learn your lesson until I carve it into you,” Albert declares, yanking your shorts, no panties underneath, down your legs and exposing your butt to the cold air. Goosebumps break out across your skin but Albert warms it right up with another smack to your ass. “Look at you, walking around with a bare cunt. It's like you want to piss me off.” Another swat, this time more painful, yet still in the realm of acceptable.
“I'm sorry, sir,” you apologise again, not knowing what else to say that could possibly appease him. You both know that nothing will.
“Save your apologies.”
After warming you up to his hits, Albert makes you count each one. Every time you fail to address him properly – sir or captain – he makes you start over. You don't really know how many hits you take before you finally reach the usual, agreed upon, twenty. All you know is that your ass is on fire yet somehow also numb and that you're crying and begging him to forgive you, promising that you'll do better, that you're really sorry and that this will never happen again.
You're a babbling mess, full of tears and snot, clinging to Albert and just needing him to forgive you.
“Shhh, it's okay. You're okay, darling. You did so well for me,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair and down your back, petting you softly while you try to get your crying under control. His words lighten the weight on your chest and make it easier to breathe.
“I'm sorry, sir,” you repeat, a broken record that needs reassurance even after his words.
“I forgive you.”
The sob that escapes you is full of relief. You can finally breathe properly now and you slump against his legs as the tension leaves your body, sinking into the rush of pleasure and happiness filling you as soon as his words register. His soft, gentle touch soothing your body while he lets you get all your crying out is simply a very good addition.
“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs. Your hearing zeroes in on his voice at the sound of his praise – you're like a sponge, so eager to please him and hear that he is proud of you. “Did you know that you're the only reason why I haven't lost my mind yet? I always look forward to coming home to you, no matter how shitty my day has been. You're a lighthouse in a storm, dear heart. My good girl, my best girl. So well-behaved, so obedient, so good for me. There you go, that's it. Cease your crying and come back to me, pretty.”
You don't even realise that you've been slowly resurfacing and calming down during his monologue, so focused on his praise and hypnotic voice were you. But when you come back to the present, Albert's voice is steadily coaxing you out while his hands hold you close, one of them draped over your lower back and gripping your hip, while the other pets your head and shoulders. The skin to skin touch is soothing and grounding.
You clear your throat now that you're back to feeling more like yourself – though still a bit wrung out – and Albert knows that you're okay when you stop trembling in his arms.
“Was it too much?” he asks quietly. His voice is barely more than a murmur and you can hear the guilt settling in now that he's calmer after taking his anger out on your ass.
“I didn't say the safe word, did I?” you shoot back softly, your voice hoarse and dry after all the crying and shouting you've been doing.
“I know. But sometimes I worry you just… can't. That I'm truly hurting you. You're the one person on this earth I don't want to hurt, my dear,” Albert says, sounding tortured, while his hand grips your hip tightly as if trying to keep you from being taken away from him.
You can't really reach him properly in this position but you force one of your hands to reach behind you and grip the hand that's on your hip. You squeeze meaningfully and keep it there even when your shoulder protests the position.
“I'm never far gone enough to not be able to tell you to stop. It's…” You sigh, letting your head fall forward until your forehead is resting against the couch cushion beneath you. Albert's hand continues to rub back and forth against your shoulder blades to soothe and ground you while you gather your words. “Look. It gets very intense when you go all in and berate and insult me. It makes me cry not only because of the hits, you know? But deep down, even if I can't reach that part of my awareness in the moment, I know that you love me and don't really think those things about me. And when you bring me back up to you with your praise and reassurances, I remember and it fills me with euphoria. I like it, Albert. And I like making you feel good with it, too.”
“Thank you, darling,” Albert murmurs sincerely, his voice slightly thick with emotion, then he helps pull you up until you're back on your feet in front of him. Your ass stings rather badly which makes you grimace, which also doesn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend. He furrows his brows as he steps closer to you and nuzzles your temple, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him.
“Let me take care of that, beautiful. I don't want you to be in pain,” Albert says, rubbing his nose against your temple for a bit before he presses a kiss so gentle against your skin that it makes your heart melt.
“Yes, please,” you whisper, too overcome with emotion at the show of love to speak louder than that.
He leads you to your bedroom, a guiding hand at the small of your back while he opens doors for you as you go along, then tells you to lie on your stomach at the edge of the bed and wait for him. The cream is cool against your skin when his hands apply it, making you flinch at the initial contact but sigh in relief as it soothes your burning skin almost immediately. Albert hums under his breath as he works, spreading the cream evenly and making sure it gets everywhere it's supposed to, then leaves a small, lingering kiss at your tailbone as a sign of his gratitude for doing this for him, as well as serving as a small apology for the pain he caused you – he always does this when a spanking session is for his benefit as opposed to yours.
You wait for him to wash his hands and return to you. He lies down on the bed, still clad in his uniform and looking tired but much more settled than when he first came home, and beckons you to come forward. Usually, you'd plaster yourself to his front and settle in between his legs with your head on his chest and your arms wrapped around his waist. But you can see the erection still straining his pants and you want to take care of it. Frankly, you're also a bit riled up still, having not come from the spanking you received.
“Can we sixty-nine?” you ask as you crawl up the bed, mindful not to touch the bedding with your ass and thighs by accident.
“You still want to?” Albert questions with a raised eyebrow as he watches you approach him. His arms open to welcome you in them without hesitation in spite of his question and his lips part for you when you kiss him, slow and sweet but full of a simmering heat.
“Very much so,” you murmur, pulling away from him and smoothing his hair back tenderly.
“Alright then.” He scoots down the bed until his head is flat against the mattress, looking up at you, and a smirk spreads on his face as he gestures to it. “Take a seat.”
You giggle at his silliness, which he clearly loves judging by the way his gorgeous eyes light up, and accept his invitation as you turn around and throw your left leg over his body so you can straddle him. Albert grabs you by the thighs, avoiding the area littered with marks from his spanking, and positions you exactly where he wants you. He's kind enough to wait for you to open his pants and pull his cock out before he starts licking at your pussy, swiping his tongue between your folds and kissing your hole as if it were your mouth.
You moan at the wet, warm feeling of Albert's tongue on you and pump his shaft in your fist twice before pulling away so you can spit in your palm and ease the friction. You lower yourself to your forearms when Albert pushes down on your lower back to get you to actually sit on his face, then take his cock into your mouth to muffle your moans at the downright heavenly feeling of your boyfriend's mouth sucking on your clit while his fingers tease both of your holes at the same time.
You try to focus on Albert's cock. You swirl your tongue around the head, tonguing at the slit while your hand pumps his base and squeezes just the way you know makes him groan – you can feel the vibrations coming from his mouth in your pussy when you do it – then start bobbing your head up and down while you get used to the weight and girth of it in your mouth again. As his cock gets sloppier from your saliva and his leaking precum, you take more and more of the shaft in your mouth. You bump it against your inner cheek, making it bulge out from the head nudging into it, then take the whole cock into your throat with one motion, making you gag before your throat relaxes and lets his cock just sit there for a moment.
On your other end, Albert moans against your pussy and mumbles, “You're perfect,” before he goes back to eating you out eagerly. One of his fingers is in your ass while his tongue wiggles its way into your dripping pussy and fucks in and out of it with gusto – it makes you moan around the cock in your mouth as you slowly pull it out and let yourself breathe.
You take his balls into your mouth next. You play with them, suck on them, lick all over and soak them in your drool – Albert is a very put together man in every aspect of his life but incredibly messy in the bedroom. He likes his cock and balls covered in spit, cum, your juices, any bodily liquid possible; the messier, the better. For that same reason he is very obsessed with turning you into a dirty, filthy wreck every time he fucks you – if you're not dripping cum from somewhere he is not satisfied. It's an aspect of your boyfriend that you find very hot and happily indulge him in. He's really taken the more-or-less ‘good’ girl you were before meeting him and turned her into a cock hungry, cum loving slut wherever he's concerned and you couldn't be happier with it.
You go back to sucking his cock, though, sucking hard and fast as you deep throat his cock like a champ, ignoring every time your throat thinks it's a good idea to protest. You love having your mouth full of his cock and you even enjoy the sore throats you sometimes get afterwards. It's just another way to feel like you're really his.
Albert pulls away from holding your pussy flush against his face long enough to give your leg two taps to signal that he's close. You redouble your efforts, fondling his balls while sucking that gorgeous cock like your life depends on it, and it doesn't take long for his balls to draw up and for sperm to shoot out of the head. You catch some of it in your mouth then pull the shaft out so the rest can paint your face, thick ropes dirtying up your mouth and nose, some falling on your cheeks while a few drops even land over your eye. You only wipe that one away when you open your eyes back up but you don't let it go to waste – you pop your finger in your mouth, then swirl around the cumshot you caught on your tongue and swallow, making sure your gulp is audible for Albert.
You pepper soft kisses up and down his softening cock after you let it fall against his stomach. He hasn't stopped eating you out the entire time he was coming, though he slowed down slightly when he first exploded into your mouth so he could moan around your clit, and now he plunges a finger into your pussy so he can fuck both of your holes at the same time. Your pleasure has been building steadily the entire time he was working on you, but you were too preoccupied with his cock to pay it much attention. Now, your orgasm takes you by surprise and it hits like an earthquake – shattering you and devastating in its intensity as it unravels your composure.
You moan out his name as you come, thighs shaking around his head as you damn near suffocate him with your pussy, but he just holds you close and licks languidly at your cunt while you come, prolonging your pleasure and making you shudder and jolt with every pass of his tongue.
When you're finally done, Albert helps you up and off of him, turning you around and putting you on your side while he looks down at your cum-covered face.
“You're gorgeous and perfect,” he declares in a voice that brooks no argument.
“You're biased,” you croak, throat even drier than before, and close your eyes in contentment when Albert gathers up all the cum on your face before sticking his fingers in your mouth and making you clean them up. You swallow again and stick your tongue out to show it's empty.
“I'm also correct. See? Who else would do this for me if not you, hmm? You're divine. If I were a god, you'd be my goddess.”
“Mhm. Hades and Persephone?”
“Quite.”
He presses a kiss to your lips before he leaves the bed so he can retrieve some wet wipes and a bottle of water, then makes sure to clean you up properly and make you drink. You down half the bottle in one go, then pace yourself by taking small sips every now and again while you watch Albert finally take his uniform off and throw it in the washer.
You really hope this S.T.A.R.S. business can be over soon. He's more tired by the day and increasingly stressed because of the horribly odd hours, the effort of keeping up appearances and living a double life, and working on his Tyrant project. He's not twenty anymore, he can't keep this up for much longer, especially not with how little sleep he's getting. You just want him to escape both S.T.A.R.S. and Umbrella and finally focus on the things he wants to do. He's so incredibly smart and driven, he deserves nothing less.
Maybe soon. He only needs a few more weeks of intel and data gathering before he can take it all to that other company he told you about. Maybe then he can finally cut ties with everything here and reach for greatness – the thing he was made for, not this pathetic double life that means nothing in the long run.
“What are you thinking of, my dear?” Albert calls out to you while he pulls a pair of boxer briefs over his long, pale legs.
You take another sip of your water as you shrug. “What makes you say I'm thinking of anything in particular? Maybe I'm just mindlessly ogling my incredibly attractive boyfriend after he rocked my world,” you quip.
“You're scowling, darling. I'd like to think that's not your smitten look when you see me.”
You snort, which makes him chuckle, and it's such a wonderful combination of sounds floating around your bedroom that it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.
“I was just thinking of the future, I guess. Hoping you get away soon and stop being so stressed.”
Albert's face softens after he pulls a t-shirt over his head and finally climbs back into bed next to you. He pulls you into him, bringing your body close until you're flush against his side, and you go easily and happily, especially when he tilts your head back and looks deeply into your eyes.
“Soon, my dear. Just a little longer and then we're free. I promise.”
“I believe you,” you say confidently and close your eyes when his lips descend on yours so he can kiss you thoroughly. You feel every ounce of love and appreciation for you that he has, which makes you throw a leg over his and snuggle closer into him, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible. God, you love this man so much.
You lie down after he ends the kiss, both of you catching your breaths and holding the other close for comfort, and it's no surprise that you drift off to sleep not long after; Albert is exhausted more often than not these days, while you've had an intense emotional overload earlier which demands rest and healing. You don't awaken until the morning when Albert's alarm sounds to rouse him for work, and even then he just grumbles as he turns it off and rolls over until he's buried in your chest, inhaling your sleep-warm scent and rutting his morning wood against your thigh. Sleepy and tired still, you just open your legs and tell him to fuck you, then fall back asleep before you can hear his reply.
Several hours later, when you finally open your eyes for good and feel rested, you wake up to the feeling of wetness between your legs. It doesn't surprise you to see Albert's cum making a mess of your pussy and the sheets beneath you, even if you murmur a curse word in his direction for making you have to change the sheets so soon after waking up.
You're more than happy that he helped himself to your body, though. Maybe his day won't be so bad this time around if he started it by being buried in your pussy. One can hope, at the very least.