Close Encounters, Chapter 5

Clark/Chloe
Late season 5
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the WB and DC Comics, not to me

Chloe is very still for a long moment, then she moves forward just a bit and kisses him very gently. The tension he hadn't even been aware of flows out of his muscles, and he pulls her against him and kisses her harder.

She makes a little sound in her throat, a noise of surrender, and her lips part. And then her arms are wrapped around his neck and she's kissing him like she really means it, the way she was kissing him before they got sidetracked and started arguing.

His hand slides downward, but this time he's a little more careful, a little less direct, so as not to scare her. He drops his hand onto her thigh, stroking her through the denim, sliding his hand very carefully up and down, trying not to panic her again. She doesn't seem to mind, so he lets his hand move toward her inner thigh, and she parts her legs and utters a small moan of encouragement against his mouth.

Heat rushes through him, and he wishes he could superspeed her jeans off, because he wants to know what the skin of her inner thigh feels like. He has a feeling it'll be incredibly warm, and softer than silk against his hands. But he doesn't want her freaking out again, so he figures he better take it slowly and carefully.

Despite that responsible thought, his hands have a will of their own, and his fingers slide right up her inner thigh and brush gently between her legs. He can feel her heat burn him right through the denim, and his mouth goes dry.

She jumps like he startled her, and he instantly stops what he's doing and rubs her back with his other hand. She's rigid beneath his hands, frozen with what he guesses is anxiety, or maybe even fear.

The wind lashes the rain against the house, and thunder crashes, but he can barely hear any of it over the wild thudding of her heartbeat and the rasping of her breath in her throat. She's aroused, but he can tell that she's also very nervous, and he remembers her earlier words: It's just too... intimate.

"Take it easy, Chlo," he says softly.

"I just..." Her voice sound strangled.

"Let me touch you, okay?" He moves his hand very carefully, stroking up and down. He's not exactly an expert on women, but he really can't see why she wouldn't like being touched there, if she'd just loosen up a little. "Does that feel all right?"

A little sound emerges from her throat, a noise that's a whimper and a squeak and a moan all rolled into one, and he guesses that means she likes it.

He keeps touching her, and her hips begin to move in response, echoing the movements of his hand. All of a sudden she's not frozen in panic any more. She's kissing his neck and his shoulders and his chest again, and her fingertips begin to dig into the nape of his neck. If he weren't invulnerable, he thinks her fingernails would probably be gouging holes in him right about now.

He's so focused on her responses that he's momentarily almost forgotten his own needs. But then she whispers his name, in a voice that's so husky and sultry he immediately remembers how hard he is, and instantly gets a lot harder. The sound of his name on her lips is absolutely the sexiest thing he's ever heard, and he smothers a groan against her hair.

He wants to jump on her like a starving lion jumps on a gazelle, but he's still trying not to scare her, so he forces himself to be patient, to go slowly, even though his body is in a big hurry. He can wait for her. She's not going anywhere, after all.

There's not really enough room on the couch for them to lie down without him squishing her, so he pulls her down onto the floor. He pushes her back onto the carpet and leans over her, inhaling her scent. She still smells like flowers, but there's something different about her scent now, something earthy and sensual and exciting. She's sweaty and aroused, and she's exuding a sweet musky fragrance that's better than any perfume he's ever smelled.

His hand keeps moving, while she moans and clutches at him with wild desperation, and then all of a sudden she arches up against his hand with a long, tremulous cry. He listens to her voice in his ear, feels the way her body quivers all over, and heat curls in his gut.

Her cries of pleasure fade away into low moans and soft gasps, and then there's a silence broken only by the rain against the windows and the heavy sound of her breathing. He moves his hand up, resting it on her stomach.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he whispers, kissing her ear.

"Um. No. Not bad at all."

She reaches up lazily and strokes his hair, and he sighs, enjoying her light touch but wanting more. A lot more. Emotionally he feels very content, but physically he's still seriously fired up. He runs his hand over her stomach, feeling the softness of her skin, and his fingers itch with the need to explore her further.

"I'm going to take all your clothes off now," he informs her.

He hears a soft chuckle.

"Sounds like a plan," she says.

Read Chapter 6 here.