Mortal Beloved, Chapter 3

Clark/Chloe
Season 5, during "Mortal"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.

Chloe had told Clark to ask her to stop when she did anything he might regret, but she didn't think there was a chance in the world of her regretting anything that might happen here. The only thing she thought she'd regret was having him stop her before she managed to get all his clothes off.

Clark was still kissing her like he just couldn't stop, his mouth hard and demanding, his tongue thrusting into her mouth in a blatantly sexual rhythm, and she could feel his hands roaming, exploring her back and her waist, but carefully stopping short of sliding around to her front.

That was Clark for you. He was an overgrown Boy Scout. He might think about touching a girl's breast, but actually getting him to do it was another thing entirely. She thought about grabbing his hand and just putting it there, but she had a feeling that might totally freak him out and cause him to pull away. The last thing she wanted was for him to pull away from her.

She moved her mouth away from his, bent her head, and began to kiss his chest, following the path her hands had followed earlier. Her mouth brushed against his collarbones, the defined muscles of his pecs, and then she brushed a careful kiss over a nipple, and he jolted again.

She got the distinct impression he liked that, so she continued kissing him there, then let her tongue lightly slip out and stroke him. He dropped his head back onto the cushions of the couch, and a little sound fell from his lips, a noise of intense pleasure and total surrender.

She was pretty sure that at that moment, she could do anything she wanted to him, and he wouldn't object in the slightest. Apparently she'd stumbled onto something that really made Clark putty in her hands.

Not that he felt that way, exactly. His muscles were rigid beneath her hands, and he felt a lot more like steel than putty. She was pretty sure he'd feel that way everywhere, but she didn't want to scare him by moving her hands lower. At least not yet.

She ran her tongue over his nipple again, and he stirred restlessly beneath her, his hips moving a bit, so that his erection rubbed against her thigh. Evidently that felt pretty good, too, because he gave a long, deep groan and did it again.

She leaned back a little and pulled him over, lying back on the couch, and he went over on top of her willingly, settling between her thighs, his big body pushing hers into the cushions. He felt so warm and solid, and he smelled so good, that the liquid fire in her veins heated up still further, to extremely dangerous levels.

He kissed her throat, then buried his face against her neck. "Chloe," he murmured, his voice very soft, and all but muffled against her skin. "We really should stop soon."

"Okay." She wrapped her thighs around his, rocking against him. He groaned, and she smiled into his hair. "We'll stop. Soon."

His hips moved against hers. "But now right now."

"No," she agreed, kissing his forehead. "Not right now."

*****

Just like he'd feared earlier, Clark discovered he didn't have a lot of self-control. In fact, he didn't seem to have any. At all. His body moved against Chloe's in an insistent rhythm, and he pressed his face into her shoulder, trying really hard to smother his moans, but without a lot of success. God, she felt good. And she smelled incredible, too. He sucked in another long breath, needing her fragrance like a suffocating man needs oxygen.

He was pretty sure he was about to come in his jeans, and he decided that might be something he'd regret, although he wasn't quite sure why. He didn't know if he'd regret letting things go that far, or if he'd regret not having let them go further. At any rate, he thought it would be best to stop, and he opened his mouth to say so.

A long sound came out of his throat, but it bore absolutely no resemblance to the words he'd intended to utter. It was a low, animal sound of pleasure and need and anguished desire. He tried again, but the words just weren't there right now. All he could do was groan and move against her, faster and harder than before.

He could feel himself shaking, could feel his skin growing wet with sweat, could hear his breath rattling harshly in his throat, and he knew they'd gone way beyond the certain, limited degree of making out he'd intended.

Lana, he reminded himself. He'd been planning on making love to Lana tonight. Because he was in love with her. Not Chloe.

And yeah, Lana had never made him feel like this, but that didn't mean he was in love with Chloe. This was just a physical thing.

But oh God, what a physical thing it was.

Read Chapter 4 here.