Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.)

Summery

ONE SHOT – AU Rei/Hilary. He wanted her for so long and now he has the chance to clime his prise. Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed.

Muse: What do you know!? She can write a fic without Mimi in it!

Lamb: What do you know Muss is a bustard.

Dedi: I'm staying out of this! This fic is dedicated to Zephyr Blue cus she's a very loyal reviewer of all our work and of DiORaRe. So Zephyr Blue this is for you.

Lamb: Thanks Dedi. As always sorry for any bad spelling and if you feel the need to through thing at me please wait until I've hidden behind the sofa kay!?

Muse: On with the fic!

I've got the stuff that you want,
I've got the thing that you need,
I've got more than enough,
To make you drop to your knees,

Immoral Seduction

All events for that day were through. There need not be any further pleasantries, if any had existed in the first place. The much loathed others took their leave, one side departing in one direction, and the other side departing in the direction just opposite. He, of course, took off on his own, for he knew very well how to move about in silence and in secrecy.

It was a high perch he chose: a warm spot on the roof of the building where the setting sun coloured the dull concrete. Peering through tiny slits tinted a bright gold, he surveyed the evening activity on the ground. The wind, with its hands, made love in his hair and gently caressed his flesh. For someone who was otherwise patient, he was becoming anxious. There would be no greater time than the present to act, and he had to act swiftly to catch her in the right moment, before she fell victim to sleep. He knew that tonight she would be alone.

Just before another breeze caught him up there on the roof, he leapt from where he sat and rode the wind to the next building in line. He kept both eyes on her, his advances followed her general direction. She had passed up the costly taxi ride to take a walk that night, which made his pursuit less of a hassle.

With every movement he felt himself turning numb with that immoral anticipation. The night air whipping along his body and teasing his loose clothing sent through him a shiver of excitement. From one building to the next he sprang, defiant of the laws of gravity. His whole face was aglow, and his blood now pumped with a voracious appetite. He could feel it in his chest, deep inside his gut, and down between his thighs. The thrill came mainly in the waiting; he knew little effort would be required in taking what he sought.

Allowing the wind to take him, he leapt from the peak of an old church and soared across the gap. Concentrating on his actions, and his prize, his thin shoes beat against the side of the neighbouring skyscraper, and he ran this solely vertical incline until gravity threatened to yank him down toward a messy concrete demise. At this point he took an audacious leap and whirled about. The length of his bright hair, tamed back in a braid, whirled about his face and fell over one shoulder as he landed. There was only a brief second of rest, however, before he took off into the sky once more, this time coming down upon a street lamp a split second before it illuminated. Off he was again, gliding as his clothing whipped the air behind him. His dishevelled hair took a windswept look, falling back into place over his masked eyes when he settled down to watch her.

She entered the hotel through the revolving doors beneath the awning. He already had knowledge of the floor on which she was staying, and need only find his way to her room. From his vantage point—a wrought iron balcony on the adjacent building—he could count up the number of levels from the ground to hers, and he watched and waited in the dying sunlight for a light to peek out one of the windows.

Lips sucked in tightly, he hung about for a while, even after he was certain of which room she occupied. He knew she would go through whatever monotonous routine she had become accustomed to. After this was accomplished, he would move again.

A lonely air pervaded the empty space surrounding. Her only affection in the world had left her alone that night, but she was too distracted to fall into a fit of tears. Inside, her heart was weeping, however. Nothing seemed the same when she saw it all without another around her. The entire world appeared a great deal larger, threatening to consume her merely for the fact that she was unprotected. Her body ached, and she passively slid the restrictive clothing off and pulled on more forgiving night-wear.

Skipping the usual rituals that took place within the bathroom, she shut off the lights and climbed reluctantly into the empty bed. It was then that, outside, her pursuer knew he could slip in. From his perch he leapt and alighted onto the sill. His hushed movements never stirred her, though it took him a great effort to pry open the window. The glass panes shuddered as he peered in at the sensually vulnerable figure lying with her back toward him.

Soft steps along the carpet held to their promise to keep his attendance secret. He stood before her, and still she had taken no notice of him. Her eyes were closed, and in erratic patterns he allowed his fingers to glide over her face where the two tones of flesh and the contrasting scents mingled in a sick carnal concoction. When she at last opened her eyes, he had already taken a place beside her, and his hands were running the curve of her right side.

Bewildered, she attempted to sit up, to turn and fight this stranger, for she had captured the aroma, and her company was not at all who she would have wished it to be. Much to her fright and horror, her body remained locked, frozen to that prison of a mattress. The room was enshrouded in darkness, and her eyes felt weighted although she was not tired. Life seemed to be non-existent; nothing seemed possible, sense came from none of it. When her mouth dropped open to speak, her words found no volume. Every breath was deep and heavy, and the only sensation she felt was that of his hands upon her.

His voice held delight. He was much amused at this, well aware the feeling was not mutual. There were small traces of laughter when he spoke, but he did so in quiet whispers, as if he had secrets meant for only her. One finger trailed around the edge of her ear and teased the sensitive cartilage.

"I know where you like to be touched," he said in admittance as he breathed onto her skin.

His jet black bangs hung before his face as he delivered tranquillising nips to her sensitive earlobes. A rush of chilled blood raced down her back. He felt her body tremble as he brushed away the long brunette strands from her neck, leaving the flesh exposed. With a pair of fingers he massaged there, and tantalised the side of her face just before his hand took a dive beneath the collar of her shirt.

She groaned apprehensively when his hands made contact with her cleavage. Forcing sound out her open mouth, she breathed the word "no" repetitively. He retracted then, but only to send his roaming hand down her side and back up beneath the linen barrier. A slight laugh escaped between his lips when he wrapped all five fingers around one breast and felt the already stiffened nipple.

"That didn't take long," he smiled, and squeezed playfully.

The night had overpowered the room, and everything seemed to have grown closer. Her frightened heart was pounding against her ribcage; she was fighting demons inside. That ever-present question hounded her: why did she lie there and take it? He had not bound her to the mattress nor presented a threat of any sort to keep her subdued; she could so effortlessly push this force away. At any second she could strike, kick backward or reach up and rip away the black hair hanging over her, but nothing came. All ability to resist the perversion had left her, and only empty and willing clay to be moulded in whichever way he desired remained. Even those frightened, chaste pleas to be left untouched could not make their way out of her mouth. Her good sense was restrained, like prey transfixed before a looming predator. Every nerve and muscle lay dead in her reposing body, only feeling the condemning affection his hands placed upon her. She felt a sinner beneath his touch, as if by no visible control.

That lustful scent, that horrible, filthy magic was rising in the air. Like a spell was cast upon her, she existed in a daze. His fingers were so adeptly toying with the flesh, moulding the swollen forms on her chest. Subtly begging for him to cease, the volume of her voice dissipated until all she could do was breathe.

Stealing away from her breasts and sneaking his hand in under the waistline of her lower garments, he felt her body turn, slowly and painfully, until he had her on her back. A grin broadened across his face, eyes gleaming behind the pale mask. She was not worth being labelled a challenge; there was no will to fight inside. He breathed in a whisper across her face, "you're too easy," and let his index finger circle her vaginal opening.

"I've barely touched you," he began again, "and already you're wet."

Faint moans emanated from her mouth when his fingers ventured inside. He was making sport of her weakness, this inability to fight him off, to pull away from this nightmare incarnate. She already had an affection to coddle and her own consensual desires to anticipate, but he brought something entirely different to the table. Different, but not foreign.

The further in he drove himself, the less her mind had to fear. What was formerly terrified shuddering now was trembling excitement. Every inch he gained she gratified with her perspiration, her seeping wetness and quivering thighs, and there was no greater prize either of them could have attained.

The moon bathed the room in its glow and delineated the shapes on the bed, and a curious shine dripped from his fingers as he withdrew. Her defences were down and she lay there, broken, both her legs curled in toward her body. At this, he sat up the golden ring adorning his left ear gleamed in the hushed light. The double pair of molten slits stared straight through the alluringly curved form, almost as if he could see the weak red drum beneath the confines of her ribcage, the tireless organ that so fearfully solicited affection. She was an empty body begging to be filled.

His ever-cheerful trademark smile never faded as garments were shed and he took position directly over her. Both hands teased the flesh of her curve, tantalising, bedevilling force of seduction. He leaned in nearer, warm breath bathing the soft features of her face. In iniquitous whispers he sighed to her, "I've done to you only what you allowed for me to do," and in that instant where his body called to hers, she closed her eyes, and the night faded away.

Lamb: So what did you-

Muse: Sorry going to have a... I have to go! (Runs off)

Dedi: Well I'm at a loss for words now.

Lamb: You too huh? Well I hope you all liked it and please let me know what you think.

Dedi: Yeah and Zephyr Blue I hope you liked it.