Veronica had no illusions where this would go, even from the beginning. He was somehow rougher than Patrick had ever been with her, more demanding too. He kind of made Patrick look like a choir boy in comparison but she couldn't stay away. She had a history of wanting men that were bad for her, and Sylar was pretty much the absolute worse.
The marks he'd left on her neck had already healed. Anything he could think of doing to her tonight would heal, but the memory would stay fresh in both of their minds. This was probably the only time this would ever happen, but of course she couldn't be sure of that yet either.
She was panting heavily as he drove her into the bed and tore her skirt off. She'd need all new clothes when he was done with her, but that was the least of her problems. And now he was naked and she could see without a shadow of a doubt how much he really wanted her and her body quivered in some kind of mix of fear and delight.
"Not yet." She whispered back, breathlessly. She was nothing, if not defiant.