A/N This is my first M rated story so hopefully it's not too awful ;) This is how I imagine Cato and Clove if they were together so please review and let me know what you think ^^

I stand in the doorway and allow him to take in all of me, before I allow him to claim me as his own. Never before has he had to fight for something; to seek out what it is he wanted. Everything always presented itself to him as clear as day, but I was always different. Perhaps it was the thrill of the chase that drew him towards me; perhaps it was my darkest of desires that allowed myself to be chased. He bites his lip softly, as his eyes follow the swish of my hips as I step into the room; closing the door quietly behind me.

This is the final night the opportunity to give into what we have time and time again will be brought forth. Once we step into the arena it is clear one of us must die, but until then the look in our eyes screams that we are willing to get lost amongst the sensations of pleasure one last time. I stride across the room slowly, as I tease him; forcing him to wait for the moment neither of us will want to end. I can see the frustration working its way into his features, as I trail my fingertips along the elaborate walls.

Cato should have learned by now that I am the one who will be in control; I am the one he will have to listen to for him to claim what it rightfully his. I approach the bed where he waits for me, but I remain just out of arms reach. A small smirk dances across my lips, as I reach up slowly undoing the buttons of my blouse. One by one they come undone revealing my sweet flesh beneath their confinements. He watches me with eyes full of hunger and lust and I find myself being drawn closer to him. My feet slowly move across the carpeted floor by their own will and not my own. Perhaps this is truly what they mean by giving into your deepest of desires.

In one swift movement my shirt floats down to the floor and lays discarded at my feet. Neither of us dares to move in this moment, as our eyes lock. His silvery blue eyes pierce into me; taking in everything that I have to offer. This boy could have almost any girl that he desired yet here we are in this moment. There is no one else present in this world we call Panem; it is only him and I, the way it should have always been. I close my eyes if only for the briefest of moments, but in that time he reaches forward and roughly grabs a hold of my wrists. I willingly fall forwards crashing against the solid form that is his body. I can feel his warmth seeping into my exposed flesh and this causes a soft shiver to rivet its way down my spine.

I breathe in sharply the moment his lips crash against my own. Sweet and dangerous like a madman's lullaby is what this has become. I kiss him back with just as much force; pouring everything into this one simple action. All of the hate that we both share, that we both fuel off of broils to the surface, as our lips move in unison. These moments that we share were never gentle, but then again perhaps they were never meant to be. We had both been branded with the title of monsters, but somehow we fit together; like the pieces to a match set. It never made sense to either of us, but I never tried to understand. I always allowed my eyes to fall shut, as I poured every dark emotion that I harboured to be brought forth in one crushing kiss.

Never before did we think about the consequences, as his hands work their way down my body; leaving faint scratch marks in their wake. The consequences never seemed to matter before and even in this moment they don't hold any real importance. I place my hands firmly against his chest, as I pull his shirt away; revealing the perfection that is his body. Desire snakes its way through my veins like wildfire, as my hands claw down his back. He arches his back towards me in response, as a soft moan is forced out of his lips.

The clawing of nails and biting of teeth is something that is not new to either of us. What we share was meant to be rough and rugged; never gentle and caring. We both would do what we wanted to each other and we would both accept it. He forces his tongue into my mouth, as I push him back down onto the bed. I lean down allowing my tongue to taste him from the inside; to taste something I was never meant to. Perhaps it was the danger that called us forward like a Siren's song that would not allow us to turn our backs on each other. This was no longer a feeble want, but a need; a bone crushing addiction.

Toxic is what his lips are to me; causing the world to twist and bend in swirls of color. My breathing begins to rapidly increase; my heart hammering loudly against my chest. All of these sensations are enough to push me over the edge into the oblivion; that place where I have walked its lands before. Cato snakes his hands down my body grabbing at the waistband of my jeans until the button snaps off. In a moment all of our clothes lay discarded across the floor, as we press our naked flesh against one another.

Everything seems to slow done until it comes to a stop. All that can be heard is our ragged breathing intertwining together into one. There are the rare moments were we both stop just to take each other in. One look into each other's eyes and we know this is where we want to be. How wrong this would appear too many, but to us wrong has never felt so right. I dared to walk this rigorous path the first moment I allowed his lips to collide with my own. This path that seemed to lead to nowhere, but somewhere at the same time.

Cato rolls me over so he is now on top. My dark chocolate brown hair splays across the sheets in soft cascades, as I look up at him. I have never wanted him so bad before now. This burning need to feel every aspect about him is almost too much for even a monster like myself to handle. I knot my fingers into his hair with more force than would ever be needed, as I pull him back down towards me. An almost hungry growl escapes my lips the moment our lips meet once more. I put all of my strength into this kiss to the point where I can taste his sweet blood dancing across my tongue. My hand rakes across his scarred flesh towards what it is I seek. The moment the soft flesh of my hand comes into contact with his member I can feel it hardening. It is moments like these where I know I hold a power over him he would never be able to understand. He is now at my control; my mercy.

I move my fingers slowly across his length, as I feel his body tremble lightly from my touch. He breaks his lips from my mine and carefully places rough kisses against the soft skin of my collarbone. He is retaliating by creating pleasure meant for my body; he wants to regain control, but that is something I won't allow to happen. I slow my fingers down so they barely graze across his skin and Cato groans in protest against my skin. "I hate what you do to me," He murmurs with a slight edge to his voice, but this tone only causes waves of excitement to wash over me. Sick this may seem to take pleasure in his pain, but this is all I have ever known. To take joy in another's pain is what we have been taught to accept.

"You know I like to be in control," My words are breathless, as I begin to move my nimble fingers across his member at a quickening speed. I can feel his hot breath against the nape of my neck, but all that is able to escapes his lips is a pleasurable moan. His kisses increase in intensity, as the speed of my hand continues to pick up. I know exactly how to bring the brute of District 2 to his knees; something no one else will ever be able to know. His teeth clamp onto the satin flesh of my skin, as I push him farther into a world of sensations only I have been able to bring forth.

Manipulation and expectations is something we have grown to become familiar with from these games we have played. Perhaps we are only using each other to fulfill our greedy desires; to feel these pleasures we were never supposed to experience. We have expectations of what to expect from each other; expectations to do whatever it is we may please to each other. Rules is something we have always had zero regard for; zero regard for anything that would not affect ourselves, but there are those rare moments that I see a glimmer of an emotion in Cato's eyes that never should have been there in the beginning.

Cato knots his hands into the sheets while his entire body shudders, as he gives into what it is I am able to offer him. A moan full of a pleasurable anguish tears through the once still air, as I feel his warm release snake its way across my hand. A small look of disdain plays across my features as I wipe my hand off on the sheets. "Don't act like this is the first time you have experienced that," Cato growls breathlessly, as he rolls off of me. The look in his eyes screams that he is not finished with me, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

My eyes fall towards the darkening skyline beyond the clouded glass of the window that looms against the far wall. I find my mind wondering to the question to what drove us to this point. We are the strong the ones to be feared; the only emotions we are allowed to feel are pain and hate. Hate is our fuel; what we thrive on, but here we are laying next to each other every aspect about ourselves exposed for each other's eyes to pay witness to. These pleasurable emotions and sensations are ones that were meant to be kept from us until we reached the age where we were no longer constricted by the reapings, but neither of us were the type to play by the rules. Even if I tried to cut him off I know I would take him back. Once I gave into what we have become I knew there would be no turning back. I was trapped; forever to be a prisoner by this boy's toxic lips.

My eyes remain on the stain glass illusion that shatters through the window from being brought forth by the paling light of the moon, until I feel his strong grip surround me. Before I can even react we are both on our feet, with me pinned up against the wall. His body dwarfs my own form, as our bodies glisten with a slick sweat. "You never were gentle with me," My tone is playful, but holds an edge that has never once vanished from my voice. "It's my turn to be in control," Cato looks down at me, his eyes burning with a fire that I only see in moments like the one we are trapped in now. It is different from the fire that ripples across the surface of his eyes the moment his fingertips graze across the flawless steel of his blade; this fire is one that is full of a hateful passion instead of his undying bloodlust.

His fingertips graze across the length of my body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. He firmly places his hands on my hips pushing my legs a little distance apart. It is clear what he wants and I don't do anything to stop him. This is my confliction; my addiction. Everything about this is wrong, but I am hooked on the sensations he calls forth. He forces me to feel something; something I can't cut myself off from. That first taste was all it took to fall head first into this blissful state of pleasure and pain. A deadly combination in my eyes, but impossible to refuse once you have had your first hit. Sweeter than any liquor and stronger than any intoxicating fumes the world could offer to me. This is the only sick drug I need; my own addiction is what he has become.

The feel of his lips against my skin draws me back into my reality. He explores the satin flesh of my neck, as he works his way down to my breasts. A soft moan escapes my lips the moment he increases the pressure of his kisses. "Don't hold back," I murmur, as I lean my head back against the wall. I close my eyes getting lost in the ripples of pleasure that snake their way through my entire being; leaving me breathless, but I know this is only the beginning of what is still to come. I then feel his warm breath against my inner thighs and it takes most of my strength to remain standing. He knows what affect he can have on me and he uses this knowledge to his advantage. He wants to make me feel weak against his lips and he was come close to doing so many times before this. I however refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing this; let him believe he has a minimal effect on not only my body, but my mind as well.

He is at the point where he is teasing me, but pleasing me. His lips slowly inch higher up my thigh causing my breathing to pick up, as if it were nothing more than a whirlwind. The moment I feel him against the soft fold of my lips my mind slowly slips between the cracks. I arch my back towards him, as I bite my lips holding back the moans I know he wants to hear. He starts to pull back due to my refusal to show the pleasure that is spiraling out of control beneath my surface, but at this moment is when I allow his name to escape my lips along the whispers of a moan, "Cato." I feel his tongue snake its way back within my depths, as he keeps his hands firmly pressed against my hips; keeping me pinned up against the wall with no way of escape. Once in his hold the thought of leaving never once ripples across the surface of my mind. We are both born and raised killers we should deserve at least the pleasures our bodies can share.

We were never meant to feel more, but the moment we turned left and began experimenting with the rules perhaps we had begun to walk the minefield that is the wasteland of emotions. My thoughts are cut short, as a burst of pleasure threatens to push me over the edge. I grip my hands into his hair keeping him in place, as he nips playfully causing my knees to almost give out. An explosion of pleasure floods my body and I have to place my hands on Cato's shoulders to keep myself from sinking to my knees. Never before had I fathomed the idea that any form of an addiction could have such a toxic effect upon me. Cato keeps his tongue in place cleaning up his work before he stands up, wrapping his arms around my waist. My hair clings to my glistening sweat slicked flesh, as I can feel my face flushing with color. If only he knew exactly what it was he could do to me.

The moments that seemed to slip through my fingertips before we made love were always gentle. It never made sense to me, as our kisses were always dangerous and rough, but our lovemaking was always sweet. Cato easily lifts me up in his arms and carries me back over to the bed. He lays me down and climbs on top of me once more; he pushes my hair away from my face and I find myself getting lost in those captivating blue orbs of his. I can feel a crowd of strangers screaming at me that I'm being a fool, but once I am lost there will be no finding my way. However being lost has never felt so good.

This is what we both need; that final connection before we are thrown into the arena we chose to be a part of. Cato places his hands on the bed by either side of my head. My eyes remain locked on his, as if I'm afraid that if I blink he may never have been there to begin with; that perhaps he was nothing more than some twisted fantasy my mind called forth. I lean up pressing my lips against his, but this time all the hate and pain is gone; this time this kiss we share is real. He is my reality; my twisted and wicked reality. All the while I'm cursing him; I'm cursing me and my insanity. My insanity fully slipped away from me the moment I allowed myself to face my confliction and fall into my sweet addiction. What's wrong with me? Why can't he see? Blindness is something we both share; a curse that has been thrust upon us.

I snake my arms around his neck the moment I feel him enter me. Slowly he begins to thrust, but he is always sure not to cause me discomfort, which is something I shall never fully grasp. His nails have scratched across the surface of my skin, his teeth have sunk into my flesh, but in this moment he holds onto a gentleness no one would suspect him of being able to posses. Our moans intertwine into one, as I arch my back towards him; taking him in deeper. Pin pricks of pleasure dot my entire body, but all I want is to hold onto this moment; the moment where two beings who were meant to walk alone find that rare connection. A twisted tango is what we dance to; a beat that has become all our own.

"Clove," Cato moans my name, as we push ourselves closer to the edge of pleasure. Our warm bodies press up against each other, as we see each other in a way no one else has before. With our clothing stripped from our bodies we appear vulnerable, but we both now we are nothing but that. My eyes fall shut while my arms tighten their hold around his neck. "I'm close," I whisper breathlessly, while Cato continues to move rhythmically; faster and deeper still. My body squirms slightly against my will while a final moan slips free from my lips. My mind becomes nothing, but swirls of color that blend in a perfect harmony with pleasure. My moans soon are caught up alongside with Cato's, as he too loses himself into this sensation of pleasure that in many ways we have taken for granted. This is what we have always done; taken what it was we wanted, but if this is what we both want does that make this any different?

Cato presses his lips against my neck kissing softly, as he tries to regain control over his breathing. I feel as if all my air has rushed out of my lungs while my body is still tinged in pleasure. The moments that follow our lovemaking is as close to peace either of us will ever get the chance to experience. Now wrapped in his arms with the light from the moon dancing across our intertwined bodies do I feel one step closer to that missing emotion. What we shared was dangerous, but it was never meant to last. Yet we would go on living like it could; we would remain blind to the fact that this would be the last time we would ever fall asleep in each other arms.

We never put a label to what it was we shared. Maybe it was only for the sex; for the opportunity to feel something. To be able to walk down this dangerous path that we both sought after with much desire. Maybe it was something more, but neither of us would ever know the truth; it would forever remain shrouded in the darkness, to be lost amongst the screeches that whip through the twilight stained trees.

I allow my eyes to sweep over his features one last time before I give into a slumber tinged state that threatens to pull me under at any moment. "I hate you," I whisper quietly. A few moments crawl by before his voice cuts through the still air, sharper than any blade either of us has weld before, "I hate you too." I hate you, don't leave me; those words would define what we meant to one another, even after death would claim us.