A/N: Please make sure you read chapter 12. I posted two chapters back to back, which I've never done before so make sure you catch that one.

She had barely allowed him to register her words before she pounced on him, almost taking his head off of his shoulders yanking him down to meet her lips. She tore at his hair, at his neck and anywhere he hands touched and had to pull his head back with great force to separate her from him.

"Claire, what the hell..."

She shut him up quickly by reaching down and rubbing her palm across his groin. He shuddered at the sudden movement and before she knew it, he had pressed her hard against the wall, his mouth attached to her neck and his hands pawing at her breasts. She let out a slight chuckle and the sound seemed to encourage him. He suddenly flipped her around and pressed her cheek into the wall. She then felt her feet leave the ground as she floated up a few inches. Letting out a little gasp, she instinctively tried to grasp the flat wall for support, gaining none. She realized it was his powers doing it and she felt a deep throb between her legs.

He swept the hair from her shoulders and attacked her neck, licking and sucking her sensitive skin. God, why did she allow this to happen? She was sure she was stronger than this. She blamed the knife incident. Seeing him dead on the floor like that had awoken something. Granted, she was sure that something was already boiling dangerously to the surface, but that gut-wrenching feeling she got staring into his lifeless eyes and feeling his ice cold skin brought it straight to the top. Claire had a half-thought out plan about the whole situation. Business first, she had to get this whole mission over with. She had to destroy the Company and Noah. Then, she was going to take a long vacation to heal the unseen wounds that she would no doubt have afterward. Then, once she was back to her old (new) self, she would spend real quality time with Sylar. That is, if he still wanted her of course.

Nothing ever really went according to plan for her, though. She should have known she would stray from the agenda. She should have seen the signs that it couldn't wait when she undid that knot on her robe that night. No. She refused to blame herself. He was just as guilty as she was, if not more so. With his opening up to her, the small little gifts, the snarky attitude, the refusing to bow to her will like men in the past. The way he pissed her off more easily than anyone she could remember. The way his eyes wrinkled up with his smile when she brought lunch to him. The way he refused to let her be lazy and really push her. The the way he fit around her body protectively when they slept.

The way he had forced her to do this just because the thought of it never happening and then never seeing him again would drive her mad.

No, now that she thought about it, this was entirely his fault. Asshole.

Her mind snapped out of its inner blame game when she felt the hardness through his jeans press against her ass. She grinned into the wall as she rolled her hips deliberately slow, making sure he felt every minute movement against his groin. The swiftness in which he bucked up against her told her he did. His hand ran through her hair, pulling her head roughly to the side, giving him better access that sweet spot where her neck met her shoulders. To her surprise he bit down hard and she gasped. There was no pain, as pain was a distant memory to her now, but she felt the sensation of something she couldn't describe. A sort of intense pressure, one that caused her to yelp and arch her body back into him. He remained latched to the spot as his hands roamed down her midsection and she felt his fingers glide over the front of her panties in a touch so light it tickled.

She gasped and let out a short giggle. Roused by her response, he continued to dance his fingers over the fabric and she felt the clasp of her bra unhinge by itself. Relaxing her shoulders, it fell down and off of her body and he let go of her, stepping away from her. She growled at the loss of contact, only to be spun around again, her body dropped back down and her feet touched the floor, her arms pinned against the wall. He stared at her, a look of pure longing plastered across his face. He quickly pulled his shirt off and she struggled against the hold he had on her, wanting desperately to reach out and run her hands through that ridiculously tempting dusting of hair around his navel. But he wouldn't let her.

He fell to his knees and crawled toward her and she held her breathe. He ran his hands along her calves, placing lazy kisses across the tops of her legs. She bit her lip and rubbed her thighs together, trying to alleviate to throbbing in her groin. Apparently unhappy with that, she felt her legs quickly open and his fingers reaching past the band of her underwear, pulling them with such force that they ripped slightly on one side. Stepping out of them and looking straight up at the ceiling, she realized she was completely naked in front of him.

The trembling started and he wasn't even touching her then. That fucking asshole.

Her leg hitched up and over his shoulder then, without her moving a muscle and the second his tongue lapped at her aching sex she almost fell over. He worked his mouth languidly, gently sucking on her labia before dipping in deeper at her core, flicking his tongue over her clit and stealing an all out scream from her. She struggled in earnest against his hold, wanting nothing more than to comb her fingers through his thick hair, to tug and pull on it and show him exactly what she was feeling. As if he read her mind, the hold was released and she attacked his head, shoving his face closer to her sex. The swirls, the laps, the flicks of his mouth were divine and she could feel the pressure building in her stomach, something she hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

Legs shaking and breathing heavily, she gripped hard on the back of his head and pulled him away from her body, sliding down the wall quickly to join him on the floor on her knees. She ran one hand down his bare chest, pulling on the dark hairs as she did and then glued her mouth to his. She could taste the saltiness on his lips, her own juices on him and she had to fight the urge to touch herself as she ravished his mouth. Instead, the hand had slid past his navel into the waist band of his jeans, flicking open the button. She ripped it out and yanked the zipper down. To her dismay, he didn't move from the position he was in.

She couldn't get to him fast enough and this angered her. Why did he make her this way? It was infuriating and before she could stop herself, she had reached out and slapped him, hard, across the face again. Recognizing what she had done, she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. He didn't react at first. Freezing in his spot, his gaze focused somewhere on the floor to his side. She suddenly felt herself rise from the floor into the air and a rush of fear swamped her. She was thrown through the air to the bed, face down. When she rolled over and sat up, Sylar was already crawling toward her, his pants and boxers already discarded on the floor.

"That was unkind," he growled at her, snaking up her body and hovering just a few inches above her. The heat radiating from him was almost enough to suffocate her. She locked eyes with him and winced, bracing herself from the backlash of her actions. He lunged his head forward and grabbed her earlobe with his teeth and pulled, breathing heavily inside her ear. "Do it again," he whispered. Her eyes shot wide open and her arms suddenly wrapped around him, her nails digging deeply into his back, he groaned but he didn't sway.

"Sylar..." she panted, the anticipation was going to end her. She knew exactly how he must have felt all those times she teased him. His mouth had somehow found her breast and he was nipping and jerking at her nipple.

"Say it," he said into her skin. "Say it again. Tell me what you want."

She hadn't notice his other head sneak between her thighs. His fingers rubbed against her core and she arched her hips into his hand. She moaned when he slipped a single digit in and curled inside her, almost climaxing from that single movement. It was gone in an instant.

"God damn it, Sylar, Fuck me!" she finally screamed, feeling only slightly ashamed at her filthy command.

She was filled completely. He stilled above her, panting hard, sweat from his brow sliding down his face. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed him in deeper, moaning as he bottomed out inside of her. Slowly, he began to thrust inside of her. Settling back on his haunches, he grabbed one of her legs and threw it over his shoulder, angling deeper into her somehow. She bit down hard on bottom lip and threw her arms out to her side, gripping the comforter with all her might.

"Oh god," he grunted, sliding his hand up and down her elevated leg, reaching down to take one of her small breasts in his hand, pulling roughly on the hard peak. He pounded into her with a steady rhythm and Claire could feel her orgasm starting to build again, rising deep in the pit of her stomach.

"Sylar," she cried when he pulled out from her, wrapping his arms under her back and rolling her on top of him. She froze.

"What's wrong?" he asked, breathing heavily.

She could feel the blood rush to her face. "I..I don't do the top."

"Why?" he asked.

"Well, the opportunity's never really come up..." she answered, begrudgingly.

To her chagrin, he laughed.

"Don't laugh!" she yelled at him, slapping her hand hard against his chest. At that, his hips bucked and she could feel him, hard and wet, on her inner thigh. "Oh, that's right, you like that."

"Damn straight. Do it again."

She slapped him again, with more force, making sure to connect right over his hardened nipple. The sharp intake of air told her she did good. He gripped her waist and lifted her up and then back down, sliding into her quickly. The sensation was different than a few moments ago and as he began to thrust upward into her, she could feel him hitting a spot she didn't even know she had. Unable to move on her own accord, she forward flat against his chest.

"Lean up," he instructed. "Don't worry, I'll do the work."

She obeyed him, leaning her back up slightly. She braced herself on the pillow on either side of his head as she felt his hands slide down her back to her ass. He gently spread her open and began to pump faster and everything in the room began to blur. She arched her back even farther and grabbed the back of his head, crying out loud. His head flew forward and his mouth was on hers, his tongue twisting and curling around her own. She continued to moan into his mouth.

"What else haven't you done, Claire?" he breathed in her ear, never faltering in his rhythm inside of her.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she panted, her voice bouncing with each thrust.

He quickly rolled back over and pinned Claire beneath him. She stared at him, dazed with lust and glazed with sweat. "What do you want me to do?" she asked, seductively.

"Turn over," he said. She flipped her body over and she felt him circle an arm around her midsection pulling her up on her knees. She gripped the cover tightly as he pushed back into her wet heat, picking the same rhythm from before back up.

"Fuck," she groaned. This was a position she could get used to. She felt his grip tight on her hips and she jumped a little when he reared back and slapped her on the ass gently. She was even more surprised that she liked it.

"Oh god," she moaned, dragging the words out. His pace began to quicken and she could feel the burning start back up in her loins. If he stopped again, she was going to kill him, she swore ir. He slapped her again and she began to rock back against him, really allowing herself to get into it (something she had never done before). This seemed to excite him more, as his pace increased again and she felt his hands slide around her stomach and slip between her legs. He fingers worked her clit furiously and within seconds that burning feeling blossomed more and more until she was screaming his name, screaming at god, just screaming anything.

She collapsed forward, her vision blurred and he was still moving within. She felt him falter a bit and then with a low, gutteral moan he pulled out, falling back on the bed. She turned over just in time to see him stroking himself before coming hard, the fluid landing all around his navel. He panted, letting himself fall completely back on the bed. She crawled over to him and kissed him softly.

"I...made...a...mess," he panted, trying to catch his breath. "We don't...need any accidents."

She couldn't help but look down at the milky white spots covering his stomach. Feeling like an all-out sex goddess, she leaned right into his ear and whispered something filthier than she could ever imagine. His eyebrow shoot right up and she smirked.

"Give me fifteen minutes," he said.