Yey! Reviews have been fabulous! And, better yet, it seems a lot of readers agree with my little rant, so that makes me super happy!

Yey! I love reading reviews. You guys are so nice! I just want to hug you all!

You're all pretty close with your thinking, but now it's time to find out for sure. Are you ready to fix this sexual tension that's just been a pain in the ass? Of course you are! I hope I did it justice for you :)

Previously; Nexus is changing, Oliver is planning for his date with Chloe. Little miss Chloe went for an adventure to the archery range and met 'David' (who sadly does not have the wonderful jaw of Oliver Queen) and then Dinah.
Then, the date comes around, there's tension, there's the smell of coffee but best of all, there's a man cooking. Hold onto your fanclub panties ladies.

Chapter Twenty-Nine; Cooking up love.

'Life asks of you, what it thinks you can handle' - Martha Kent (Season Four, Episode Crusade).

Oliver was right, he was a messy cook. But he was good, quick and efficient. The leather jacket came off within the first minute, the cool white shirt miraculously stayed both white, and on him. She found herself enjoying his company more and more. He made her laugh more than she thought possible. He was nothing like her first impression of him. He was nothing like Lex. He was honest, he was true. He was a gentleman, probably the last one in the world. Which considering his previous media covered escapades, she never expected to label him as, but yet… it fit him. He'd changed.

"Alright." He turned to her, the oven door closed again after his latest check. "We're going to have the ex chat."

"Really? You want to go that far down your memory lane?" she scoffed.

"I know the price, but I'm a jealous man." he admitted, not that she didn't already know. "How many hearts are chasing you?" Chloe laughed.

"I can safely say all of the men whose hearts I ensnared are no longer pining for me."

"I don't believe you." he stated.

"You really want to go into this don't you…" She sighed. "Let's see," She resigned herself to the truth. The Chloe Sullivan truth. "The first man I liked wanted another woman, the second tried to kill me. Fast forward to the first boyfriend and we split due to unforeseeable conclusions, we're friends but nothing more. Then, I starting travelling around countries and nothing lasted longer than a few weeks at most." she summed herself up neatly.

"The second tried to kill you?" he repeated, stuck on those words.

"The meteor infected teens don't like the word no."

"You grew up in Smallville?" Shit. Chloe felt her mistake hit her like a lorry to the spine. She'd fucked up big style. She could recover though… right?

"No, but he had." she lied swiftly, trying to keep the calm cool in her voice. He nodded, and she hoped he'd bought it, if he started looking into Smallville history she could be in a lot of trouble. Lionel had scrubbed her clean from documents, but… people's memories were still there. "What about you?" she asked, not really interested in his conquests but needing to change the conversation.

"There's not much that the papers didn't report on." he admitted, then paused to wash his hands quickly. Chloe had read the press reports, they enjoyed following him around (still do), he always provided a story. "I went to an all-boys school, so it wasn't until after that I first started the whole dating thing." He leant forwards on the island, towel in his hands still.

"Dating is what you're calling that huh?" she teased.

"Okay, so, it wasn't so much dating, as one date and then not calling them back."

"Oh com'on, there's got to be more than that, who popped your cherry?" She smiled at him as she spoke, loving the expression.

He laughed, standing and rounding the island, taking her hand as he walked back to the couch with her in tow. She didn't expect him to answer, but as he pulled her onto the sofa next to him, he did.

"I met her in the school holidays, she was a friend of the family." He eased Chloe against him. "We were friends before, the type of ice-cream and movie friends. She wanted more, I was distracted by… urges, and said yes."

"Are you kidding?" she asked, turning to look at him. "She came onto you?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"You just seem like a guy who likes to be in control all the time." Clearly.

"I am now." he simply answered, brushing the loose tendrils back behind her ear. "What about you? Who stole your virtue?"

Chloe smiled, it wasn't a fond memory, it was awkward and strange. But, when she looked back, she rather liked it.

"I was travelling and in Portugal at the time. He was sweet, he was the son of the man who owned a local bakery. It was very storybook romance, batting eyes and blushing cheeks and the like." she narrated. She had wanted Bart to be her first at the time, she was miserable at being taken away from him. But the kid… she couldn't remember his name for the life of her… he'd insisted upon showing her the city and making her smile. It was a first time for both of them, neither really knew what they were doing. Days after Lionel had decided to kick her to another country without so much as a goodbye. "But we grew apart." she finished her tale for her audience. "Film time?" she asked, needing the topic change.

"Sure." He handed her the tv remote with a smile as she shuffled closer to him and into a comfier position, but as soon as she reached the opening screen for the movies, he had her turn around to him, her eyes big.

She didn't need to say the words, the featured film of the week was The Fast and The Furious, in honour of its sixth film release, clearly it had inspired her. "Go ahead." He grinned and she settled back against him to select the film.

"Are you going to tell me why you wanted to watch Crank now?"

"Hmmm?" she questioned, not paying attention.

"Crank." he prompted, tilting her chin back towards him. "The reason you wanted to watch it…" He saw her smile grow again.

"Oh, Statham fucks her in the middle of Chinatown." she told him, not an ounce of shyness from her. "It's hot." And unapologetically she wriggled back into him, lifting his free arm around her comfortably.

"Remind me to never let you watch films I haven't approved beforehand."

"I trust you approve me watching fast cars then." She grinned.

"Considering your driving…" He didn't finish, just shook his head and smiled at the little blonde angel as she positioned him the way she wanted, pushing a pillow into his lap and laying her head against it.

And she stayed like that all through the first five minutes, and then Oliver started to get an impression of what Bart meant, she rolled over onto her front, crossing her arms over the cushion and laying her head on her arms. Then, another 10 minutes and she was back on her side, and after than, she decided she wanted to sit up. She managed to stay sat still for a good time to be honest, but then she leaned back against the other side of the sofa and propped her legs over Oliver's knee.

All while she changed position, it never bothered her. She was nothing like other people, she didn't grumble about not being comfy, in fact, she seemed comfy in every position, changing more out of habit than need. She didn't even notice at some points, he swore. She would be watching the film, and then she'd blink and wonder how she got to the other end of the sofa. Just as he was thinking she'd finally settled, his oven alarm went off and he never got to find out how long she'd be comfortable like that. With a chuckle, he lifted her legs from him setting himself free into the kitchen.

She was something… something brilliant.

A few minutes after Oliver left her, his next command came.

"Chloe, food. Pause the film." She rolled her eyes, but she was starving and it smelled amazing, so she dashed her way to the kitchen after a quick jab at the remote.

Her first impression was… well… it was more of an urge to melt into a puddle on the floor and live forever in the bliss of the man. He'd lined the island with candles, the soft glow illuminating the kitchen and the man. "What?" he enquired. "Too much."

"No… just… adjusting." she replied honestly.

"Well, if it goes cold while you adjust I won't be held responsible." he joked and took her hand to the bar stool she'd had before where he'd decorated her plate with everything she wanted in life. Men didn't cook for her… men didn't light candles…

So why did Oliver?

Why was he so different from other men?

She supposed it could explain her feelings, he was an elite upon other men… her feelings had to mirror it.

After tonight, would her feelings change? She wondered.

After tonight, would she still feel the same? Less? More? She felt her hands clam up, she was actually nervous. She'd never been nervous about sex before.

What if he didn't want her anymore, what if it was just cheap thrills? And now she was pushing herself into a panic. Calm down, she echoed to herself over and over as she settled and relaxed into the present.

A deep red wine sat to her right, water to her left. The man had eaten at too many restaurants when he knew layout of drinks by heart.

"Adjusted yet?" he teased, taking his own seat, tossing the salt lightly over his veg.

Chloe could deal with this, she wasn't going to wig out… right?

Right. This was unfamiliar territory, her heart was pounding but she would cope with it. She pulled out her smile, turned on the tease and relaxed.

"You do realise you have to top this if you want another date?"

"Ah, the prospect of a fourth date, I must be doing well." He grinned. "But, I have ideas, don't worry."

"Ideas? Wanna run those by me first perhaps?" She cut into the steak, he'd done well, just the pink centre giving hint to its juicy texture.

"Alright. Well, I thought you might like some time away, just you and me. I have a little place in the middle of nowhere, private beach, beautiful waters."

"Hmm." she just agreed, giving nothing away.

"It's near Christmas, so when the ice-rink in Star City comes beneath the clock tower, I'll have to take you there."

"Have to huh?" she questioned, a smile on her lips. Lex didn't make a deal out of Christmas, they didn't do presents, or a tree, or decorating. She missed a home Christmas like she had with her father, where people went all out, a fresh tree, decorating everywhere, mulled wine, eggnog, presents, Christmas songs. It was cheesy and she hated how much she loved it, but she truly believed in Christmas magic. But Christmas was a long way off yet.

"Of course, if you haven't skated beneath Star City's night sky, you haven't truly experienced Christmas. That buzz of mulled wine, the Christmas market next to you with candy canes of every flavour, cotton candy and the smell of spices wrapped around you. Not to mention the old chubby men with fake beards pretending to be Santa skating around you laughing for the children. It's really something."

She could imagine it would be.

"Christmas is a long way off." she noted, sliding the steak into her mouth. It was an explosion of taste, the texture perfect. He smiled, seeing her appreciation of it.

"That it is. But I have plenty more ideas." he began. "I'll take you to Gotham, I know it's not exactly a dream-place, but there's a beautiful little Thai restaurant, which tastes unbelievably good, and I need to share it with someone, and I think it should be you."

Chloe didn't realise quite how much the thought of them sharing something so plain thrilled her. It was something just for her, not a date he'd recycled through the other women he'd had. It was something special.

"We could always keep it simple-" he resumed. "Cute picnic in the park." he suggested with a smile. "I'll fly you to Paris, take you dancing under the Iffel Tower and around the Llueve." He chuckled. "We can cruise across the Atlantic." he suggested. "Anything you want."

"Do you always rely on your multimillions to charm a woman?" she joked. He accepted with a laugh.

"We'll hit the local bar if you want, I'll let you beat me at pool." He smiled. "I'll take you to the zoo and adopt you a lioncub. We'll visit the aquarium and count fish."

"Less cheesy?"

"Wine tasting? Cheese tasting? Carnival?"

"More wild?" He laughed.

"Alright. I don't think you'd turn your nose up to mud running." She didn't turn her nose up, but she raised an eyebrow.

"Are you trying to tell me, the billionaire Oliver Queen, who wears more suits that I have shoes, it willing to run an obstacle course with me through metres deep mud?"

"I don't say no to anything." He grinned.

"Except me on a first date." She couldn't help but chime in.

"Valid point." he accepted. "Skydiving? Monster trucking?" He flew the ideas at her, much to her amusement.

"Something less extreme?"

"Alright, well, on the opposite end of that scale, we could lie under the stars all night, or lie by the fireplace in a little wood cabin."

"Exchange the word 'lie' for something dirtier and I could be down with that."

"If that's what you want." He grinned. "I have some other ideas about that too." But as much as she pried, he kept those under wraps for the entire course of dinner.

Oliver was a wonderful cook, the kind you could easily get fat with. He was easy conversation too. And, he took her empty plate from her, insisted she return to watch the film while he cleaned up, blatantly refusing her rare good deed of offering assistance.

Still, she wasn't going to fight his answer, she took herself back to the sofa, spreading out across the distance and re-starting from where she left off. She had that happy warm feeling from the food, the glass of wine was probably helping too, her fingers took down the top two buttons of her blouse and she smiled to herself as she let the film take her back to the storyline.

Oliver finished quick, the smell of the candles being snuffed out coming seconds before his arrival. She lifted her legs and he accepted his resumed place underneath them, his large hands on her bare calves. She enjoyed the feel of it.

With one hunger satisfied, another rose. She focussed on the film, or at least tried to as she plotted against him. She took her hand behind her head slyly, pushing up her flat hair for more volume, giving her a more wild look.

30 minutes later, Oliver was feeling hot under the collar. What had made him suggest a film? A film?

Here she was, her latest wriggle putting her as close to him as a lover could get. She was soft, warm and snuggled up under his arm. But, the problem came with the blouse, if he looked her way, his eyes instantly fell to the unbuttoned clothing and beneath it. There, as she breathed, rose the beautiful shapes that hypnotised him. It was agony, to have seen her in the throws of passion, to have felt her inner walls clench around his fingers, but to go back to just holding her warm body pressed against him and pretend like he hadn't had those things was torture. She turned again, just slightly, laying against him more, and that changed his view for the better yet again. His eyeline went straight down her chest and she couldn't see his gaze this way either. She took another heavy breath, resting her hand between her legs, his eyes went to the cleavage again, he was sure that halfcup bra would reveal the darkened skin of her nipple at any point.

Chloe turned to him, hearing a broken sigh depart his lips. He turned alert as he found her eyes again, clearing his throat and nodding back to the film. Chloe met the film once more, a secret smile on her lips.

"Ollie." she whispered, her eyes still on the screen.

"Yeah."

"This date…" she began. "Does it finish when the movie ends?" Her intention clear.

"After dessert."

"And if I'd rather have dessert for breakfast?" she questioned, her fingers slipping to his thigh, drawing a pattern up and down so very softly.

"Then yes."

She nodded, shuffling again to lean further down the sofa, almost laying down against him.

"Ollie." she started again, still keeping her whisper.

"Yeah?" he repeated.

"If I don't want to wait until the movie ends?" she prompted. He cleared this throat.

"Then you'll have to be patient."

"I'm not a patient person…"

"Then that's a problem. For you." he stated.

Chloe grinned. It wouldn't just be a problem for her though.

"Ollie." He was used to the routine now, but played along.

"Yeah Chlo" She liked him calling her Chlo, usually it was a Lois thing, but it suited Ollie too.

"Are you worried?"

This threw him a little.

"Worried about what?"

"Well… maybe the reason you are delaying having sex with me is because you're worried."

"I'm no-"

"If you're a little small, I don't mind." she spoke over the top of his negation. "Or maybe your soldier can't stand up like the others."

"Ch-"

"If you can't last long, I mean it's a common problem for me-" He placed his hand over her mouth.

"Watch the film." He tried not to laugh though.

She managed another 5 minutes, then it began a fourth time.

"Ollie."

"Yes."

"If it was something bad, it would have been in the paper right?" she teased.

"Do you know you can't sit still for more than five minutes?" he questioned back.

"I don't like pins and needles." she explained with a laugh.

"I'm pretty sure you need to be sat still for longer than five minutes to get them."

"I don't think I made myself clear." She laughed. "I really don't like pins and needles." She smiled up at him. "It's like being tickled and stabbed at the same time. It's horrible."

"Ticklish huh?" he questioned, his eyes sparkling with an unspoken dare.

"You'll be stabbed if you do." she warned.

"You'll have to wait for the fourth date if you keep this up." he insisted.

"You wouldn't last that long." she purred, sitting up and facing him.

"Alright, maybe I won't, but you'll be tickled if you keep this up."

"Define 'this'." she challenged.

"The questioning."

"Alright." she agreed, but when he thought she would return to sit, she moved instead to straddle his legs. "I'll stop with the questions."

She took his hands in hers placing them on her hips.

"Chloe, you're not watching the film."

"Neither were you." she answered back. "Unless I suddenly grew a tv screen under my blouse." She lifted the blouse, casting her eyes down it and shook her head as she met his eyes again. "I didn't think so."

She rocked herself gently against him, a soothing rhythm, barely there, her lips to his neck, kissing the pulse point. The coffee explosion must have hit him there as well because her tongue licked her lips to taste the sweetest drug she was living from. She pressed another kiss in the same spot, lashing her tongue against the vein that stood prominent as he tensed. He tasted fantastic. She couldn't help but release a happy moan against his flesh, right next to his ear.

That moan was his undoing.

He tackled her to the couch, his lips on hers, his hand unbuttoning the blouse skilfully. This was sweet victory all over again, only this time there would be no phonecall, no date rule. She'd get her happy ending, and yes, it would be very happy. She could feel herself rising with the prospect of the thrill, she felt like she'd been teased for weeks. Oliver kissed with the same feeling.

He was needy, passionate and loving, all wrapped into the kiss that send a tidal wave of lust through the fog in her brain and straight down to her core. She could feel the wetness grow between her legs. His lips came from hers to kiss down her neck, his hand finally settling on her warm skin and sending a shock of heat to flood her. His fingers were rough, callous and demanding, they pawed at her flesh like she was the very giver of life he needed.

And it was need.

It had been weeks of sexual tension, it had been a whirlpool of lust and the storm was reaching its peak.

It was raw necessity that they had each other at this point.

Oliver groaned, his hands finding her bra an obstacle. He pulled her up sharp with him, one hand wrapped around her to yank off the blouse, the other under it to masterfully unclasp and reveal her sensitive tits.

He was a wild man as he found her bare, taking her back to the couch, a fierce mouth feeding a primal hunger with kisses around her breasts.

Need was in her gasp for air, lingering in the way her body rose from the couch and further into his body, it was the tug at his shirt, the fingers in his short hair.

Need was heavy in the air, the smell of sex already dominant.

Need was in the way he moved against her, pushing a knee between her legs, letting her rock against him, the seam of her shorts giving her little to soothe the ache.

Need had consumed mere want, need had taken want and charged it with something so powerful neither could decline.

Chloe hands tugged the shirt over his head with his help, breaking the contact of his lips, but when it returned he was done teasing, and took the nipple lightly between his teeth, the tip of his tongue flicking against the tight bud. She cried out, consumed by the sharp sensation, the rush of lust hitting her all over again. She rocked her hips against him, feverish with desire. Her hands clawed at his back, she needed more.

"Ollie." she called, her voice gone, replaced by breaths and pants of a desperate woman. "Ollie," she cried again, pleasure ripping through her as he sucked the nipple, his thumb and fingers rolling the other. "More." she pleaded. But he didn't reply, he was taken by the high. "Ollie." Her voice broke her repeat and she felt the familiar tug of an orgasm pull at her, luring her closer and closer to its glory. Her hands fisted on his back, her nails scratching the skin. "Oh God." she panted.

Her leg wrapped around his, her hips pumping up and down. Her head was light, her thoughts were dark. She wanted him and that was final. "Ol-" But her words were failing, his attentions pulling the waves of her pleasure stronger over her. He lifted from her nipple, the cold air whipping over the bud in a way that tingled every cell in her body, then he descended on the other, sharing his time. The free hand, it rolled, smooth and quick down her stomach and to the waist of her shorts. His fingers tugged the tie apart, pulled open the button and flew the zip down, his hand quickly sliding inside, finding the nub of nerves like he'd playing her body a thousand times before.

Oliver loved women, it was no secret. He loved their wit, their temper, their challenge. But he loved seeing them fall apart, broken down to moans and cries of pleasure because of him. Chloe was more than any woman he'd seen before. She was wittier, less controlled over her emotions, and ever more so challenging. It stood to reason that he loved hearing her cries of pleasure so much more than anyone else he'd ever bedded. He loved being the one to make her moan, to make her breath hitch, to make her lose control. He loved circling that sweet spot between her legs, knowing seeing her explode within herself would only make him love her more. She was a fucking goddess and she lay beneath him calling his name like a prayer.

Her toes curled, her legs tensed and she knew what took its grip over her entire body. She cried aloud, her arms locking around him, her nails biting into his shoulders, her legs locking around his like a vice. She heard him coo, urging her on, circling the nub that was buzzing with a thousand nerves all alight and super sensitive. She cried again, locking herself around him, her eyes squeezed shut, her body throwing her apart and snapping back together. She came down gasping for air, her eyes open to the smug grin she'd come to adore. But there was no downtime, he looped his arm under her, lifting her to her feet by the couch. She could barely stand, held against him like a swooning damsel.

He spun her, his chest to her back as she held onto his arm, his lips went to her neck, his hand shoving down the shorts and panties with them. She stood before him naked and not giving a care. Her hands came to return the favour, but he grasped her tight.

"Upstairs." The sound was guttural, lust consumed. "Bed." he followed with, walking with her towards the stairs. She could barely balance. "Now." He playfully bit at her neck and slapped a hand to her naked ass. She grabbed the banister, pulling herself up the first step, only to realise his hand was slipping away from her. "I'm right behind you." he warned darkly. She raced up without him, her feet unsteady, her high trying to persuade her she was as drunk as she felt.

She pushed open the bedroom door to another world. Gone was the blue wonderland she'd been in recently. Instead every free space held a vase of tulips, candy swirled like she adored best. Rose petals lined a path to the bed, candles in tall glass beakers stood high and low, lighting the room with a rosey warm glow, flickering shadows against the walls.

"You like?" His hand came around her quick, caging her back to his chest, his lips on her neck again.

"Mmmm." she vocalised, other words gone. It was… perfect. Mindblowingly romantic and yet, there was no cheesy feeling either. Just… perfection.

"Bed." he urged, stepping with her, the clothes she'd worn previously dropped by the door from his hand.

"Bed." she mimicked with agreement, copying the word from his lips. The tease was gone, the lust sated for the next minute, ready for the need to take over again.

He spun her in his arms, sharp, collecting her with a sudden force. Her eyes met his, they were hungry, they were looking at her like she was the answer to his prayers. Her knees hit the bed and he took her down onto it.

He needed her.

She wanted to give herself to him, she wanted him to feel as she had. His lips came back to hers, probably bruising her with the intensity, but she gave as good as she got. While he was resting on his own hands, she took charge of his pleasure, her fingers on his belt, the zipper, the band of his boxers, pushing all down at once. A proud erection sprang free, pointed directly for her.

But he pulled away from her, his throbbing desire further from where she wanted him. "Ollie." But he smirked, taking a leg in each hand and slowly spreading her. "I nee-" But her command for more was cut short, his hands under her hips and lifting her lower half from the bed. His eyes locked to her as he descended, a kiss to her knee, then an inch closer he kissed again. His eyes came back to her, then another kiss, working down her thigh, each time stirring her lust like he had control of her sex with buttons on a remote, right now, he was turning higher and higher. Then his lips were right by her sex, slowly, languidly, he kissed the apex of her thigh, his fingers running her juices up and down her slit, the small tuft of hair on her pubic bone the only design on her. She felt her heart quicken as he broke from her eyes again, his lips closing in. She felt like she'd crashed when he finally placed the tip of his tongue to her clit, then he was sucking it into his mouth, his fingers sliding to her pool of warmth, slipping a finger into the tight passage and taking a slow glide in and out. Torturous almost. But she had no feeling other than the rush in her head, the bedspread fisted in her tiny hands. His free hand spread under her hips, trying to keep control as her body writhed with the sensations, her back arched from the bed, her head crushed to the duvet, moans slipping from her lips in abandon. His tongue joined his fingers tasting in her very essence and then he moaned, the vibrations batting down his tongue against her opening and pushing her higher.

"Com'on baby." he urged. "You feel me."

She could feel nothing but him. Nothing but the sensation of his fingers and tongue, the thrill of the rush was running over her again. Her body shone with a glimmer of sweat, her knuckles were white over clawed into the duvet, her hair was over her features, just her lips visible, those teeth biting at her bottom lips again, her chin tilted towards to ceiling, the face of pleasure.

She felt his fingers curl, felt the fingers stroke against the sensitive g-spot most men couldn't find and Oliver played it in strong rapid strokes. Her calls were loud, echoed around his room, bathing the walls in the sounds of her pleasure. His lips went back to her clit, flicking it with his tongue, then once again, sucking the nerves. That was it, she was gone again. Her orgasm flew through her with no care for her sanity, it brushed every nerve, locked every muscle, raised every inch of pleasure from every cell, then crashed against them all, slapping her with the waves of aftershakes. Just small twitches as she uncurled her feet, unfisted her fingers and opened her eyes to the second smug smile of the night.

"Fuck me." she begged, her voice so small it was miraculous she made any sound at all.

"In time." he answered, though he felt the demands of his own body pulling at him.

"Now, Ollie. Please." she panted, reaching her hand for him. He clasped hers, pulling her from the bed gently.

"I'm not finished yet." he whispered darkly and turned her in his arms. His hand moved her hair from her neck, the other kept her up on the jelly legs that still quivered in the afterglow. She was beautiful. He pulled her to rest against him, his hands smoothing down the front of her body. "You're beautiful." he told her. "A fucking goddess." The curse from his lips made the words bounce in her head. "You have no idea how much I want you right now." The words were dark, filled with sinful promise. "But I said I'd take things slow, and I will."

"I want fast." she disagreed in short breaths. "I want now." she continued, rolling her head onto his shoulder. "I want you now."

"A little-" His lips pressed to the nape of her neck. "Longer." he urged, setting Chloe on the bed. "What is this?" He smoothed a hand over her left butt cheek with a smirk. "You never told me you had a birthmark." he teased.

"I never told you a lot of things." she agreed. "Like; I'm not a patient person." She reached back and snatched his hand, her left leg kicked out and she brought him down to the bed beside her, onto his back. She straddled him as quick as she could, before he could take back control.

"I'm not fin-" he protested with a laugh, but her grin was warning, her sanity returning from the need. And slowly, Oliver watched her fingers wrap around his erection, sliding up and down at her own pace.

"You were saying."

"You're right." And he collided back with her, resuming top dog as he rolled her onto her back his manhood against her slit. She rolled her hips.

"Now?" she pleaded, the green in her eyes flickering with lust again.

Whatever he saw, he caved, his hand dropping to the jeans, pulling out the condom and tearing the foil with his teeth. Even just that motion got her motor purring his name. Sheathed, he reclaimed his position, she instantly lifted her legs, locking her ankles behind his back and moved again. He wasn't going anywhere but forward. His eyes clouded, consumed like before, like on the sofa, like in the hotel. He was darkness all over again and he pressed his tip to her opening, pushing, pushing himself in.

Finally, Chloe thought, her arms wrapped around him, her lips meeting his with the love their actions lost as he pressed forward, her heat accommodating him like two pieces of the perfect puzzle. She was tight, clasped around him like she'd never been given a good fuck in her life. But she rocked against him like a porn star, she clutched to him like he was disappointing and he lost grip on his romantic ideals. Her moans rewarded his change of pace. He'd buried himself to the hilt, and he'd given in his love notion, pulling out and slamming into her as she craved. Her cries of greed came back. More. Harder. Faster.

He gave, her slick channel letting him slip easily, giving exactly what she wanted. Her hands were at his back again, wanting him closer, wanting him pressed against her. He gave, his lips to her neck, her fingers twisting around the strands of his hair as he thrust harder, faster, giving her the more the craved.

It had been a while for him, sure, but that was no excuse for the build being so strong so soon. The woman made him stumble like a virgin before her. Sports, he thought, slower he advised. But then she'd call his name breathlessly, the sports were gone, the slower was no longer in his control. His hand slipped to her clit, playing the nub as he had earlier and he watched her features chance, the wave consuming her.

"Ollie." she cried, the closer she got. She'd never be able to call his name again without him getting hard, not with that sound so lodged in his brain. Not seeing her like this. "Oh God." And she tumbled into the golden abyss again, her walls clenching around him and milking him for his seed. He came hard. He came in a way that touched every part of his body. A way that shocked him with its intensity. He couldn't let her go. Not after that.

Her legs clamped down, his final thrust finishing him and he crashed down to the bed, his head on her chest, his elbows barely remembering to keep him from crushing her.

The sound of breathing took the room, the smell of sweat and sex dominated even over the candles. Her hands came to him, her fingers stroking the soaked strands, keeping him against her.

"That's it?" she spoke, her voice coming from inside her chest against his ear too, her laughter followed. "That's what I've been begging for." she teased, but held him down as he made to protest. "You'll give me a round two when you can breathe again." she instructed.

He managed a chuckle, letting her play with his hair as they both calmed their racing hearts.

Chloe was entirely knackered after the second time round, he'd had her all over the bedroom, on her back, on her front, against the wall, on the carpet- which was worth it considering the intense orgasms doggy-style gave her would certainly pay off the carpet burns on her knees. She was exhausted, the man certainly knew what he was doing. Though, the blow to his ego certainly ensured the second time around he gave 110%, and boy it was amazing. She'd never come so many times.

"Better?" Oliver asked with a chuckle as she lay across his chest, both panting for breath

"I won't be able to walk again…" she mused between breaths, the tiredness creeping into her voice.

"You'll be fine." he chuckled again.

"Coffee?" she asked, cracking an eye open and pushing herself to catch his gaze. Then she remembered the other coffee delight destined for her tastebuds. "Oh, dessert!" He laughed, running his hand down her back, then back up again.

"Sleep or coffee. Not both." he chastised.

"I suppose coffee will be there tomorrow."

"Water?" he suggested instead and felt her nod against his chest. He rolled her over onto the pillow. Oliver was certainly a pro-naked person. She had the glorious view of his ass as he left the bedroom, and then the magnificent view of his 'front' as he returned, two bottles in hand. He smirked, catching her gaze, no embarrassment, not a care. Not that he should be embarrassed; he certainly was gifted in all areas. He passed her the bottle and crossed the room, blowing out the candles before slipping back into the bed. But his arm reached across to her, pulling her back to his side as she was before.

"Thanks." she spoke, looking to his eyes. "For tonight."

"Anytime you need an itch scratched." he chuckled, taking a sip of the water.

"I meant for the dinner and movie… but that too." He smiled, wrapping her closer to him. "Actually… who won? Did the movie finish before we moved this upstairs?"

"Don't know… suppose it will have to remain a mystery." he replied honestly. He hadn't paid it attention before and it was finished when he turned it off now.

"I think I won." she replied smug in herself. He let her have the victory wordlessly.

But Oliver had a new problem… those three words he wanted to tell her… he hadn't had the chance. Hadn't the thought before. But now, he found himself dying to say them. But… she'd freak. Of course she'd freak out, and he didn't want her bolting from him now. So he remained silent and decided upon calling Tess later. As much as he hated the idea, the woman would be honest, and she was the only female input he could trust (on the basis she had no interest in fucking him).

Chloe placed the bottle on the nightstand and curled into him again, her head on his chest, her finger tracing up and down his abs. He smiled, his own bottle set aside and he wrapped her next to him, shuffling to lay under the duvet with her. His arms held her, big strong arms that promised to keep her safe, to scare away monsters and always protect her.

She considered telling him about the deal. Telling him of the hell she'd signed herself up for. His arms came with a promise to protect that seemed so genuine, so loving. It was impossible to not believe he'd keep her safe.

"What?" he asked softly, his voice lullaby smooth as he looked down at her.

What was she thinking? Lionel would kill him. "What's wrong?" He made to push himself up, prepare for the break in her tearducts. But she gently held him down, lifting her eyes to him.

"Nothing's wrong." He was ready to dive for the truth, but then she spoke again. A truth for her. "I'm just happy." For a long time in forever, she felt no worries, no pain. She was truly happy, satisfied, fulfilled. His lips descended to brush the top of her hair where he could reach.

"I'm happy too."

In her mind, 'I'm happy' translated to three words she would never have dared to speak. She curled into his hold. His arms took all of her pain, all of her hurt, and she closed her eyes feeling weightless.

She loved him.

The second he'd slipped from her, she knew. It wasn't enough to just fuck him, she loved him. But, in his arms, she wasn't scared.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX -

Awwwwww, it's all romance and cuddly teddies and lovely pink heart!
Everything's going to work out!

Unless of course... no, no, I say nothing!

American spell check is driving this English writer insane. I apologise if I flip from an American spelling to an English halfway through- it messes with my mind and makes me doubt myself.

Review if you want, don't if you don't. Either way, you can have an imaginary hug and a pumpkin to carve (Since it's near Halloween and i'm feeling generous).