Clark/Chloe
Season 5, follows my story "Saving Me," which followed "Void:
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the WB and DC Comics, not to me.
Clark grasped the tattered remnants of Chloe's nightgown in either hand and yanked, and all of a sudden she was totally naked. She yelped in surprise and instinctively tried to cover herself, but he tossed the material aside and caught her wrists.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful, Chlo. I want to look at you.”
She looked up at him, seeing the intensity in his eyes, and felt herself flush all over, a flush comprised of equal parts embarrassment and excitement. It had been a long, long time since she’d been with a guy, and her first and only time had involved awkward groping in the dark, not having a guy stare at her in broad daylight. It made a girl worry about what the last half gallon of Rocky Road might have done to thighs that were already a little on the round side.
But given the way Clark was staring, she was pretty sure he wasn’t aware of her flaws. He looked kind of… awestruck. The stunned expression in his eyes made her throat tighten.
He sat down on the bed next to her, reached out, and began to stroke her cheekbone, very carefully. His other hand brushed over her shoulder, then trailed lower, cupping her breast. She squirmed a little, simultaneously self-conscious and very aroused by his touch and the look in his eyes.
“You are so gorgeous,” he murmured, and bent to press a gentle kiss against her cheek. Her eyes stung with tears, and she reached up and sank her fingers into his thick, dark hair, wanting to hold him close, wanting never to let him go again. This was what she had always wanted, and never thought she’d have… Clark kissing her sweetly, reverently, as if she was precious to him.
As if she meant the world to him.
His lips pressed softly against her neck, then his tongue flicked out to stroke her skin, and she gasped. His hands touched her, cautiously at first, then more confidently, stroking her breasts, her stomach, her thighs.
The way he was caressing her slowly shifted from careful reverence to assertive sexiness, and she felt her body heating up in response, felt a liquid warmth building inside of her. She sensed he was still afraid of hurting her, very conscious of his strength, but that he was gaining more faith in his ability to control himself with every passing moment.
Clark moved over her so that he was kneeling between her thighs, and pressed another kiss to her throat, then, very carefully, raked his teeth along her neck.
She gasped with surprise, and his head jerked up. He stared at her with wide eyes.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she said breathlessly. “Not at all.” She arched her head back, exposing her throat to him. It was a display of trust, since she knew better than anyone how strong he was, and that his teeth could do serious damage to fragile human skin, particularly in such a vulnerable area of her body. But she liked feeling his teeth there. It felt good, and besides, it was actually sort of exciting to feel him controlling all that power, holding it in check as he touched her.
At any rate, she was confident he wouldn’t hurt her. He was incredibly strong, and the gentlest person she knew, and she trusted him with her life.
He hesitated a second longer, then the alarm on his face faded, and he grinned.
“Okay,” he said, and did it again.
*****
Clark felt his eyes burning, felt sweat breaking out on his skin, felt himself starting to shake a little as he touched her. Her skin felt like satin under his fingers, and she smelled so sweet it made his head spin. Her fingers dug into his hair in a way that would have hurt a human male, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of liked the desperate way she was holding onto him, like she was terrified he might stop. Stopping was the furthest thing from his mind, as it happened, but it was nice to know she wanted him to continue.
But then she tried to use his hair to control him, yanking at him in an attempt to force him to go where she wanted him to go. He lifted his head, captured her wrists, and pinned them gently against the mattress.
“There you go being bossy again,” he said.
Her eyes went wide, like she really hadn’t expected him to take charge. “Clark,” she whispered, in a small voice that sounded like a plea.
“You’re really having trouble with this concept,” he observed. “I’m the boss right now, Chlo, remember? Relax.”
She strained against him for a moment, but he held her with no difficulty. Not that he would have kept her pinned if he sensed she really didn’t like it, or if she’d demanded he let her go. But she didn't seem to mind. After a few seconds she relaxed into it, seeming to enjoy it, judging from the little moans that rose out of her throat as he kissed her. She certainly wasn’t ordering him to let go of her, anyway.
He scraped his teeth along her collarbone, then nibbled his way down her body, hearing her breath catch in her throat. It sounded like she was so turned on she could barely breathe, and that thought made his eyes burn like crazy. Her body twisted against his, rubbing up against him in a way that was wildly exciting.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he tried to convey that to her with each of his kisses, tried to let her know that she had absolutely no need to feel insecure about anything. His mouth trailed across her stomach, then lower, and she cried out.
Arousal stabbed through him like a knife, and he felt the sudden desire to hold her much more tightly, to clutch her against him and never let her go. He hastily let go of her wrists and grabbed handfuls of the sheets, gripping them hard.
“Clark,” she whispered. “Please. Touch me.”
“Can’t,” he said hoarsely against her inner thigh. “I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you, Chlo.”
He figured it was safe to kiss her, though, at least as long as he kept his teeth to himself. He kept kissing and licking her, everywhere, until she was writhing against him, crying out brokenly, her words sounding almost as alien as his had. At last he couldn’t take it any longer, and he was pretty sure she couldn’t, either. He shoved his boxers off, then moved up, leaned over her, and looked around the room frantically.
“Crap. Where are my jeans? I need my wallet.”
She blinked at him, as if he had spoken in Kryptonian, then suddenly seemed to follow his train of thought, because she giggled. “Don't worry about it. Check my nightstand drawer.”
He reached over with a long arm and rummaged around in her drawer. “I’m surprised you keep these around,” he remarked, pulling out a condom from the box he found. “Not that I’m criticizing or anything. I just kind of thought you hadn’t been with many guys lately.”
“I haven’t. I just believe in being prepared. Although I’m guessing you can’t get me pregnant.”
The thought of actually doing something with her that could lead to pregnancy hit him in the chest like a kryptonite two by four, and he had to struggle to make coherent words come out of his mouth. “No point in taking chances,” he managed finally. “The Kawatche have a legend that they’re descended from one of my people, so I think… I think it might actually be possible.” He yanked a condom out of its package, rolled it on, and grinned down at her. “Better safe than sorry, I figure.”
He lowered his head and began to kiss her, extremely careful not to use too much pressure. He brushed his lips across hers, tasting the coffee and cream she’d just drunk, and beneath it her own flavor, spicy and exotic.
She tasted so good that heat surged through him, and he deepened the kiss, demanding more from her. She gave it to him without hesitation, her tongue stroking against his softly, intimately. A long, low groan of pleasure rumbled from his chest, and he kissed her a little more urgently.
It was more than obvious that she trusted him, but he wasn’t sure he trusted himself. He was still terrified of hurting her. Even so, he couldn’t have moved away from her now if a meteor shower hit. He had to make love to her, or he was going to go crazy.
He lifted his head, gritted his teeth hard, and slid inside her.
She cried out and clutched at his back, her nails digging into his skin, or trying to. Unfortunately his skin had other ideas. She quickly gave up on the nail-raking idea and slid her fingers down his back more gently, pulling him even closer.
The light brush of her hands against his skin felt good, and the sensation of finally being inside her made him shake violently. It was the most intimate feeling he'd ever experienced in his lifetime. She felt so good, so hot, that he could barely breathe, and his heart thundered in his chest. He lowered his head, pressed his face against her throat, and uttered a low growl of pleasure.
“God. Chloe.”
She whispered his name in return, breathlessly, and wrapped her body around his. They moved together, slowly, in a rhythm that felt perfectly natural and easy, as if they'd done this many times before. He heard her making little noises in her throat, felt her bury her fingers in his hair again and hold onto it as if she were falling, and heat surged through him, making him tremble even harder. His eyes burned, and he rubbed his closed lids against her shoulder, struggling to contain his heat vision.
He wanted to touch her, to run his hands all over her, but instead he clenched his fists into the sheets again, contenting himself with scattering light kisses over her neck and shoulders. Maybe with time he’d feel more confident of his ability to touch her without hurting her, but he wasn’t going to gamble with Chloe’s safety right now, because he felt like his control was slipping rapidly.
She began to move against him faster, then her body arched hard, and he heard her voice raised in breathless cries. Something fierce and protective swelled inside him, and he pressed his lips against her throat again.
“Mine,” he whispered softly, as shudders racked her. “You’re mine.”
And then he was murmuring in Kryptonian again, barely aware of the words, as his own climax slammed into him with violent force.
Read Chapter 10 here.
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