This chapter has an extract from my made up novel 'Seducing. Eleanor. X' you may skip if you desire; nothing deathly important happens, but it does lend a little into the smut that follows. But like I said, nothing major occurs.

Chapter Eighteen; Claim

Ollie had finally left her alone in the apartment. Well it was only for 10 minutes and she was sitting beside a taser gun, but it was as alone as she could get, and she found relief in the emptiness. Enough emptiness to sneak down in her night dress then back up into bed with her taser gun and smutty book. After Ollie had got her reading the first few words, it was too hard to resist finishing off the chapter at the very least, and what better time for a little light reading than when she was all alone. Her fingers flipped the pages, feeling the air waft up blowing back her hair then landing with the page open where she left off.

To think; a few month ago the best thing she had read in books was that the couple got married and had cute little darling angel children. Now she had fallen from such innocence after her first taste and she was craving a good screw in the dirt.

I stepped out of the taxi, possibly staring my downfall. I had seen this place so many times. In dreams, in reality, yet is always seemed so magical to me. Like it may suddenly disappear at the drop of a hat. I paid the overweight balding male who grunted a 'thanks' and sped off before I could ask for the change. Bastard.

I didn't even know why I was here. I'd had enough of men in general but to me… he wasn't just another of the many in the sea. He was the one you wanted to keep secret because he was so precious and rare. He was the one who didn't fake interest in my babbles, he didn't pretend to like the way I styled my hair, he wasn't scared of telling me I wasn't welcome. He was honest, and I supposed it was that trait that I need most now.

At the beginning of this year I had been begging for my boyfriend to propose, now I was wishing he hadn't. It wasn't hard to figure out why. At the beginning of this year I hadn't met him, now, he was the one I craved after turning down my long awaited proposal. I knew I should go home, explain to the worried boyfriend. Well, I supposed it would be ex-boyfriend now. But there was no-where else I wanted to be. I took a deep breath steeling myself and followed the pebbled pathway to his front door. It was all so intimidating, large old oak hinged on older stone. It suited his personality. Cold, harsh, but powerful and resistant to forces that tried to knock him down. I didn't even need to knock before the door opened and he stood with a frown on his face wearing nothing but the black three quarter army trousers he favoured. I had disturbed his work out probably.

'I thought we agreed you wouldn't be coming again Eleanor.' I gulped as he braced himself on either side of the door frame, not letting me cross into the warmth. I felt even more exposed, standing outside, a torso lower than him on his steps. My voice was once again a lost cause. He huffed. 'Why are you here?' I swallowed, finally tearing my gaze from a crack in the stone to his eyes. Unbreakable swarms of grey glimmering bright in contrast to his spiked jet black hair.

'Can… can I come in?' I finally spoke in a near whisper. We had agreed I wouldn't be coming back. In fact he said if he ever saw me again he wouldn't bother to even look at me, never mind talk to me. Instead of slamming the door in my face as I expected he put one hand on it, gave it shove to open it fully and stalked off, back into his house. I hurried to follow, shutting the heavy door and letting my kitten heels click as I tried to follow his large strides.

'Why are you here?' he asked again, sitting his muscular frame into a pale wooden chair. It left me standing, with nothing to do but play with my sleeves and try regain power over my voice.

'I, ummm. My boyfriend. He… he proposed to me' I managed to speak, hoping he wouldn't make any bigger fuss than necessary. Of course, the cold exterior still shone through. He shrugged, no emotional change in his body posture or expression.

'Why are you here?' he asked again, his voice getting no softer.

'I… I said no.'

'I don' t think you're quite understanding me here Eleanor. I have no care for your personal drama. I want to know why you're standing in my house when you shouldn't be.' I gulped again, I didn't seem to have found him in a good mood. Not that I'd ever seen a good mood. With him, there was sexually hungry or a bored, nonchalant attitude to life. Right now I was staring at indifference. Suddenly the chair became too stationary. He gripped it with one large bear like hand and threw it across the room, smashing into the wall. My heart skipped a beat then sped off a mile a minute. I missed a mood; anger. I had seen anger before. Usually his rage led to showing me the door before he threw me out of it.

'I-I.. I wanted to see you.'

'To rub in my face that you have other men chasing you? I know how desired you are Eleanor. You forget we were first introduced with your boyfriend on your arm.' he hissed, taking a step toward me. I remembered all too well our meeting. I was being taken out, for my birthday to a Christmas market, I dropped my purse only to find him being the one to hand it back. A few accidental meetings later while my boyfriend was off buying me a gift and I had his phone number and a promise to be seeing him again. It only took a petty fight for me to go running to him. I had been hooked ever since.

'Go and run back to your man. I no longer desire you.' he continued and walked past me, not even so much as dropping me a look.

'Wait. I need you.' The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I had fallen for the emotional stone man, he wasn't good for me, he wouldn't be there when I needed him. But I was trapped in his web in a tangled seduced way.

'You don't need me Eleanor. You just want a better fuck than what your mate can give you.' His vulgarity burned straight through me in a wave of sex. I knew his tongue did better things than swearing, but it was the sudden flare of the word that caught me off guard and melted my bones. 'Go back and buy yourself a sex toy. You don't have to worry about anything but the batteries then.'

'I don't see why you care!' I spat, suddenly aware I was pissing off an already fuming man. He turned on the spot back to face me. His cold grey orbs hitting my heart directly. He rose an eyebrows, daring me to continue. The lust flared my temper and I took a step myself, closer to the man who could turn me to dust with a flick of his wrist. 'You said you didn't care about my boyfriend. You said this was just sex. You had no right to change your mind to start with.'

'I had no right? Really? Is that what you think Eleanor?' he purred my name, heavy with a huskiness, but the other words were laced in anger. He was stalking closer to me continually, predator to the weak.

'You blame me for using you as a toy, when I was nothing more myself!' My hands rushed out and pushed him back. His back hit a wall and he froze before punching his feet into the flooring again and caging me in his muscular arms against the closed door.

'Do you want back in my arms?' His voice dropped to purposeful seduction, my anger dropping like hot metal. 'Can you even say what you want anymore?' he challenged with a cocked laugh. 'If you think you were a toy, maybe I should show you how I treat my toys.' His hand slapped rough against my sex through the jeans, rubbing with the seam drawing gasps and moans from my dry throat. 'What's wrong Eleanor?' he teased, pushing further against me with his hand. My arms reached out to his shoulder, stopping me from falling over. He slapped them off. 'Toy's get played with Eleanor!' he roared and pushed again, his fingers practically already inside me. He quickly dropped his hand and my knees gave way, falling to the floor. He didn't give me time to breathe before he pulled me back up by my wrists and dragged me to follow him into the living room. I'd been here before. Had sex on almost every surface. I knew the colours best as they flew past me in my orgasm, but now it wasn't the living room he wanted to claim me in. He kept moving, my feet falling out of their heels as he continued to pull on my wrists, his hands tight and whitening my pale skin further where he had his grip. I found myself thrown to the floor again, met by a soft green carpet. I lifted my head scanning the walls but all I managed to find was that it was another sitting room with a few cabinets. Probably a junk room from all the clutter around the sides. Broken lamps and other broken objects. I noticed a few I had indirectly caused after another of his temper hits. I scrambled to my feet. He met me, hand on my coat, tugging it off as I tried to run again. I hit the door and grabbed the handle only to find it closed and locked tight.

'Toy's leave when I get bored Eleanor.' he hissed and my chest was pushed into the door, the handle against my hip bone, digging in the further he pressed his body to mine. I wriggled and writhed in complaint, he used my movements to snake his hands around my middle and pop the button on my jeans. He yanked them down in one swift move and lifted me out of them, holding me to him and tugging on my blouse, no care for the buttons he ripped. I used to marvel at the fact he could pick me up and undress me at the same time. Now I was finding it an inconvenience.

'Let me go.' I hissed, batting my hands against him. He growled and dropped to his knees, me falling with him.

'Eleanor' he purred, voice dripping with sex. My body writhed in pleasure, my mind; in pain. He laid me back, hovering over me and his hand rolled my contours down to the lace underwear. He slipped beneath them, his demanding fingers forceful against my folds. Fast and unevenly he seemed to buzz against me. My toes curled, knees falling apart from habit and wrapping around him like we used to. Like this was just the experimental dive into rough sex all over again. I moaned, I couldn't help it. He cheered me on, praising the whore in my body wanting to find release. 'Eleanor, my whore, scream fo-'

"I remember talking to you about this." Chloe rushed a hand to her heart, her chest rising and falling with each pant of a breath. She looked across with a death stare to Oliver who had intruded upon her bubble.

"Yeah" she breathed. "I remember telling you not to sneak up on me as well. Looks like neither of us have any memories."

"Which bit you on?" he asked, crawling across the bed to the book. She snagged it back before he could read any words.

"None of your concern. I told you I'd inform you when I'd finish."

"Hmmm, I bet I can figure out where about you are." He grinned cheekily. "Actually, why don't we bet?" he continued, inspired by his own words.

"I don't make deals with the devil." she stated and slapped the book closed. Ollie grinned.

"The devil huh? I'll admit I get a little horny from time to time, but it's nothing compared to you." He winked and she tried to evade the humour to not break the serious face she was trying to hold.

"Regardless. No bets." He stood firm on her point. But Ollie saw wiggle room and he was ready to exploit it.

"You sure? There isn't anything you want from me? Anything you would be willing to bet for."

"Nothing I'd want to lose more like."

"Have some faith Chloe. It could be interesting, that's all." He sat and pulled her onto his lap, the rough denim of his jeans on her bare legs somehow shooting straight to her sex. The night dress was barely existent as it was, yet somehow, it still covered enough to be considered sleep wear and not just a scrap of material designed to immobilize men's brains and rally all blood further down south. Though it did that pretty successfully too. "Is there nothing you want from me?" He hooked her hair behind her ear, lingering on her cheek.

"What do you want from me?" she countered. He snickered.

"If I can guess the paragraph you're on, then I want you to admit you're not just in this for the screw. That you feel something."

"And if you can't?"

"Hence the question of what you desire." he replied, fingers stroking absently up and down her thighs stirring the longing that never seemed to leave. She leaned in closer, a flicker illuminating her eyes and drilling deep into his gut, twisting all desires into a intoxicating shade of lust.

"I want you to teach me to fight again. No pulling back out. Even if I break anything."

"That's quite a lot to ask for."

"Then you better hope you win." she breathed, her lips brushing close to his in torment.

"Okay. I accept." He shook her hand, keeping a hold of it, his fingers wrapping around hers.

"Guess away Arrow." she teased. Without warning his free hand shot between her open legs cupping her sex. She gasped, leaning in to him. He dropped her to her back, leaning over her. She moaned, his fingers rough against her underwear.

"I'd say I should be calling you a whore around about now." he whispered, his fingers moving aside the thin cotton and racing up her slick outer lips, parting them to reach his prize. She was already wet. Anticipation for his return, or the smut of the book? "Chloe?" he teased, stopping his movement "Isn't there something you should be confessing to me?" he hinted. No pressure, no gliding fingers till she gave him what he wanted to hear. No care for his tone she bucked her hips against his frozen fingers. She rocked her body up, pushing him onto his back as her hands went to her night dress throwing it off her head and away from her. Who cared where it went after that?

She ran her fingers up his chest, round to his shoulders to remove the leather jacket. Oh how she adored that jacket, but what lied beneath promised something better. To feel the hard ropes of muscle was a sensation she craved more than anything. "Chloe. Words." he gulped as she started on the shirt, pulling it over his head. He wouldn't care at all about his prize if she continued like this. He took her wrists in his hands, and her eyes shot at him, silently trying to figure him out. "Chloe…" She smiled and leaned down, her lips to his bare chest and crawling to his ear. She sucked on the lobe and spoke the words he already knew.

"I feel something for you Ollie." The words shot to her core starting sizzles and sparks inside her. Simply just admitting her feelings had her floating higher. Ollie's next sound was somewhere between animalistic and needy. Her freed hands went to his jeans pulling them down his legs, boxers going along for the ride, then she tugged off her own covering, leaving them both bare. She hadn't had a chance to explore, she thought in the back of her mind, and here was Ollie, laid out before her like a buffet. But where to begin. She trailed her kisses, cheekily placed up his body avoiding where he wanted her most. His member quivered wanting her attentions. His hands clawed in soft caresses trying to regain some control she had selfishly stole.

"Chloe" he groaned, his fingers spread across her hips, attempting to stop the taunting dance of them in the air as her warm tongue circled his Adam's apple, ready to take a bite. He was begging for attention, he was painfully hard and Chloe wasn't easing his discomfort. What was worse was that she knew her effect and was 'accidentally' sliding her self against his erection then the sensation would quickly disappear. He caged her to his body and threw himself over, locking his frame to hers. She was merciless, touching and exploring anyway she could, yet still leaving his cock amiss. "Chloe" he intended it to be harsh and demanding, instead he got lust consumed and gruff. She moaned against his throat, vibrations firing over his skin straight down to his groin.

Unable to take any more tease he shifted his weight to the one hand, his other wrapped around his base, slow strokes easing the torture. Chloe whimpered in complaint and stroked down his bulging bicep, following the track to join her fingers with his, taking them from his cock. Oliver didn't have time to whimper before his fingers found placement against her wet heat, her own casually dancing across his stiff length. He could take no more, he had to be buried inside her. His eyes searched up at her as he slid his first finger into her slick channel. "Chloe. Open your eyes." He wouldn't let her miss anything of this, not even to soak in her bliss. She needed to know who she wanted, who she came back to, who she craved more than life itself. If she couldn't see him now, she never would.

He slipped in another finger, stretching her tight walls, feeling the ridges against his movements pulling him deeper inside.

"Ollie." she cried. "Oh fu…" Her curse of pleasure was swallowed by another gasp, Ollie's fingers beckoning inside her, sharp swift flashes against her g-spot. He drove her right up to the edge, his long fingers deep inside her. He took her nose to nose with the shiny golden abyss, and then stopped abruptly. Her eyes shocked open, why had he stopped? She was wild with the sensitivity; everything was like a pure bolt of lighting striking across her skin. Just a little more and she'd fly to the heavens. "Ollie." she pleaded. "Please. I need-" He shushed her but no comfort was given.

"Tell me how you feel about me Chloe." It was beyond the bet agreement, but he wanted to hear it, and he doubted she would decline him anything in her position.

"What? Ollie. Please. Please." Her begs were almost enough for him to cave. But the need to have her claim on him was something more, it was almost primal.

"How do you feel?" he asked again. Her eyes glimmered tears, the want too powerful to be contained. And he was fucking with her… now?

"Pissed." she answered through gritted teeth, her fingers tightening grip on him in warning. "Ollie. Now. Please." His fingers started ministrations again, slow and deliberate; bringing her back up to the edge, showing her the reward for her answer but not letting her feel any part of it. Now until he got his answer. He slowed, his touch barely there; floating against her. Holding her in limbo till she satisfied his need. Her hips gyrated against him, looking for anything to give her that slight extra push.

"Who do you belong to Chloe?" She hissed, her nails biting into his skin as she pulled herself closer.

"I swear if you- ahhh" he thumbed her clit then the sensation was gone again, replaced by his questioning.

"Who do you belong to Ch-"

"You. Ollie. You." She cut him off and she was rewarded with a crashing orgasm shredding through her body like it was nothing but a play thing. Her head dropped back, her heart rate flying high; a mere buzzing in her ears. It felt like she could feel his touch everywhere, all at once. Her muscles clamped around his fingers, her skin flush with a primal heat and echoes of pleasure ripped from her throat.

Her vocals cleared the room to find Ollie's starry eyes searching in hers for something unknown.

He saw the flicker of fire, this time not consumed by an all burning lust. This fire would burn you if you even so much as looked at it the wrong way. Oliver had done more than looked; he had touched, stroked, suckled and wholly played with it's emotions to draw his own prize. It was going to burn; he could feel it bubbling below the surface of her skin, itching for that release to justify her blackest of feelings. Chloe snapped her hands to his chest, pushing him off her and sliding from the bed. The tension was all over her, from her hair, messed with the disarray of sex, to the tips of her painted toenails, chipped from the multiple days wear.

Chloe turned away from him, in a quick spin. She felt used, shamed even. The juices making a track down from her thigh weren't helping cool the darker of her urges. Oliver had no right. NO RIGHT! Her hand ran through her hair, finding a nest of tangles instead of the cooling she wanted. She could barely make words, barely think coherently. She needed to cool off before she threw more than a slap at his precious face.

Her hands snatched a towel and some clothes from the side. A shower would give her time to stop the murderous gleam taking over her vision.

"Chl-" he scarcely made a syllable before she turned sharp back to him. No care for the sculptured body in her line of vision, nor the pressing erection trying to process its master's recent high.

"You'll be paying for that." she muttered, each letter filled with the extent of her careful control, and swung herself into the bathroom, slamming the bathroom door loud enough to shatter it. Only a number of things could be control in her anger, her voice may be one of them, her temper to inanimate objects were not. The lock echoed clearly grounding down her point into his core. Just in case he was stupid enough to miss the black waves of hate she had flying off her in every direction.

Ollie chuckled crashing back against the bed. Maybe he had gone a bit too far, but what he heard was no lie. She belonged to him, or at the very least, she wanted to.

Oh! Bad Ollie. Very very bad Ollie. Fortunately Chloe knows just how to punish him…

It's these billionaires, they see what they want and instantly think they will have it because they are so sexy looking and super rich. Clearly there's a flaw in male thinking there. Luckily, Ollie will get some re-educating and a chance to atone for his sins against our dear heroine.

I know the chapter was pretty short and for that I feel like I should apologise, but I won't because the next chapter will be so awesome it will make up for it. *fingers crossed*

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