Season 6, based on spoilers for "Crimson"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Clark only hesitated a second. Then he reached up, grabbed Chloe, and yanked her down on top of him. Their lips met in a hot, open-mouthed kiss, and she made a small noise of surrender and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He'd been waiting three days just to hear her voice, just to see her smile, and now she was kissing him ravenously, her tongue in his mouth, her body twining against his, and her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. His self-control shattered to pieces in an instant. He pushed her over, none too gently, onto the brightly hued carpet that overlaid the wood floor. He braced a hand on either side of her, so as not to smash her, and rubbed his body against hers intimately.
She felt very warm and soft underneath him, and even in a plain gray sweatsuit she was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen, ever felt. He broke away from the kiss with some reluctance and started to kiss her throat, his tongue sliding out to trace the delicate contours there. She smelled good and tasted better, and words spilled from him in rough, disjointed phrases.
"Chloe-- God..." He showered kisses over the three small moles on her cheek. "Chlo-- missed you-- so much..."
"I missed you too." She bit lightly into his earlobe-- lightly being the only way to bite him unless she wanted to break her teeth against his impenetrable aura. "You're an awful pain in the ass sometimes, but I like having you around."
He was terribly grateful to hear her say so. He'd missed her so intensely he couldn't begin to express it in words. Instead, he lifted a hand and began running it over her body lightly, trying to convey exactly how much he wanted her, how desperately he'd longed for her over the past three days. At his touch, she gasped and wiggled against him, and he ground his teeth together, because the feel of her squirming against him was almost enough to undo him entirely. He vividly remembered the way she'd wiggled frantically in the dark broom closet, just before he'd slid inside her wet, tight body.
That night they'd made love in the dark, a quick, illicit coupling. He hadn't even really been himself, but Kal, the abrasive, obnoxious jerk he turned into when he was on red K. Sex in the broom closet had been quick and dirty, but he couldn't deny it had been hot.
But touching her in the bright morning light, when they both wanted to be here, when neither had other commitments or attachments, felt entirely different. It was still hot as hell, but it wasn't at all the same thing somehow.
It felt... right.
Her hands trailed over his back, tugging at his red t-shirt and yanking it up, and then her hands slid over his bare skin, caressing and stroking and exploring. He moaned softly as heat eddied through him, and rubbed against her harder.
He wanted to make this last, to make it forever, but there was no possible way he could go slowly with her hands on his skin and her tongue stroking his. It was just too damned intense.
She yanked his shirt off over his head, and he helped, lifting his arms up and shrugging it over his shoulders. Half naked, he reached for the hem of her shirt... and hesitated.
"What are you waiting for?" she asked softly.
"Chloe." He heard his voice shaking, but couldn't seem to steady it. "Are you sure about this?"
She turned her head and spoke into his ear. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You just broke up with Jimmy. And it was my fault."
"So you figure I'm on the rebound?" She blew lightly into his ear, and he shivered. "You know what, Clark? I've been thinking about this whole situation for three days, and I finally realized I really never felt that much for Jimmy at all. I mean, I like him, don't get me wrong. He's a great guy."
"Yeah. He is." Clark had finally fully understood that when Jimmy had dared to try to protect Chloe. It took a lot of nerve for a skinny little guy like Jimmy to stand up to someone Clark's size. Jimmy might be a geek, but he had balls. And the fact that Jimmy had tried to protect Chloe, even after she'd admitted to sleeping with another man, had earned him Clark's respect for all time.
"He's really sweet. But I don't love him, and I don't think I ever could, no matter how long I dated him." She ran her hands lightly over his bare back, and he jerked his head back and hissed like she'd burned him. "I have a thing for another guy."
And thank God for that, he thought. After everything he'd done to her, he knew it was a lot more than he deserved. Overcome with affection and gratitude, he lowered his head and kissed her again, and moments later their clothes were scattered all over the floor. He moved between her thighs, pressing up against her warm, wet flesh, and gave a long, low moan, struggling to hold back.
"Clark... oh, Clark..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Please."
He remembered trying to get her to beg in the broom closet, but she didn't need to beg now, because he couldn't possibly deny her anything. He'd do anything she wanted him to do. Anything at all.
He wanted to make love to her slowly and carefully, to express all the feelings that had been bottled up inside him for days, but he couldn't seem to go slowly. It was like someone had pressed his fast forward button. He plunged into her hard, sinking all the way to the hilt in a single thrust, and she cried out and dug her hands into his hair. He hesitated, worried.
"Did I hurt you?"
"Oh, God, no." She ran her hands over him frantically and lifted her thighs, wrapping her legs around his ass. "Do it harder."
He withdrew, then thrust harder and faster, in a rhythm that was even more frantic than their tryst in the closet had been. He wasn't sure why he was so desperate, but he couldn't stop himself, couldn't even slow down, and she seemed every bit as desperate as he did. He made love to her with rough violence, every thrust sending them both higher. Seconds later, she cried out, her body arching and twisting beneath him, and he felt the spasms of her body squeezing him as she came.
His voice fell to a low groan, then rose to a high, sobbing cry of ecstasy, as his desperate need for her overtook him. Every muscle in his body froze for an endless moment as heat and pleasure washed through him in a long, intense climax. At last he fell against her with a gasp.
"Oh, my God," he whispered, kissing her cheek and her throat and her ear. "Chlo."
She lay beneath him, breathing hard, and he rolled slightly to the side so she could draw in air. She pressed her face against his chest, her hands moving over his body in lazy patterns, but she didn't say anything. Her long silence began to worry him-- because Chloe was never silent-- but at last she spoke.
"I'm thinking about getting a tattoo," she said.
He blinked. "A what?"
"A tattoo. Right here." She pointed at her left breast. "I figure I'll get a heart that says Clark Kent."
He felt his mouth curve in an involuntary smile. No one else in the world, he thought, could make him smile as often as she did.
"That's not terribly creative," he pointed out.
"No. But it seems appropriate somehow."
"Better be careful," he said softly. "I hear having tattoos lasered off can be pretty painful."
"I'm not worried," she answered, and looked up at him with her customary impish smile. "I'm not planning on having to get it removed."
He smiled back at her, incredibly grateful to have her in his arms. After everything he'd done to her, after the jerky way he'd behaved, he was very fortunate she'd forgiven him, and even more fortunate that she'd decided to take a chance on a relationship with him. He was damned lucky... and he knew it.
He leaned down and brushed a kiss over her forehead. "You don't think you'll ever want to have it taken off? Are you sure about that?"
She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his shoulder.
"Yes," she answered. "I'm sure."