Anything For You

Clark/Chloe (spoilers for "Devoted")
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.

"I'd do anything for you, Clark."

She spoke in a sexy whisper, sliding toward him on the old couch. He backed away but promptly discovered he was trapped, up against the arm of the couch. He looked into her eyes.

"Like what?"

She smiled, and her hand slid down his chest, across the flat planes of his stomach. He dropped back his head, barely suppressing a moan.

"Chloe." He was trying to sound indifferent to her touch, but not succeeding very well. His voice was already harsh with need and desire.

Her hand slid just a little lower, past his navel, then down over the jeans he was wearing. He jolted, and his hips moved in an involuntary reaction, thrusting his erection up into her hand.

"Things to help relieve your stress," she murmured, wrapping her fingers around him.

He couldn't quite stop himself from moving into her palm, letting her cradle him, stroke him, explore him. It felt so damn good. Too damn good. In a minute, he was going to come in his jeans.

Or maybe half a minute.

"Chloe," he muttered, catching her hand. He really meant to pull it away, but instead he pressed the soft warmth of her palm against his hard, pulsing erection and held it there. "Chloe... are you feeling okay?"

"I've never felt happier." She straddled his lap and smiled into his eyes. "Can't you see? I'm devoted to you." She bent forward and brushed a light kiss over his lips. "I love you, Clark."

He knew he was supposed to fight, but he didn't want to. She was totally naked under his football jersey, and he just couldn't keep his hands off her. He reached down to her hips and captured her bare, beautiful, rounded ass in his hands, pulling her against him. She moved up and down, her intimate flesh stroking along the length of his erection, and this time he couldn't prevent his moan. His hips started to rise to meet hers in an automatic response he couldn't have stopped if he'd wanted to.

And the truth was, he didn't want to.

Heat began building, at first in his cock and balls, then slowly suffusing the rest of his body as well. His skin felt too hot, his jeans felt too tight, and he felt a fine layer of sweat break out under his t-shirt. She was so wet that he could feel her dampness right through the denim, and the fact that she was already making his jeans wet turned him on to an incredible degree. With every long, smooth motion of her body, his erection gave an eager jerk.

She kept moving until he was gasping and moaning and twisting against her. Then she reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them aside, and began to stroke him through his boxers, exploring his every contour.

"Chlo." His voice was low and rough. "God... Chlo... I'm going to... don't. God."

"You're going to come before you can get inside me," she whispered. "Aren't you?"

"No." He tried to sound confident, but his cock spasmed against her hand, as if it was saying yes yes yes. He dropped his face against her shoulder in a fruitless effort to muffle his frantic grunts of pleasure.

"Yes, you are." Her palm pressed against the thick shaft of his cock with gentle firmness, and her thumb stroked across the sensitive head in slow, rhythmic sweeps. Even through the thin fabric of his boxers, her touch felt awesome, and he could feel the fabric growing damp with precome. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the inevitable explosion.

He knew she was wet and ready for him, and he knew that she was only two inches away, but he couldn't quite bring himself to grab her hand, take it away, and lift her onto him. Because he was weak, very weak, and he just couldn't resist being touched this way.

And then she slid off his lap and dropped to the floor. His thighs parted automatically, and she leaned in between them, shoved down his boxers, and began to explore his bare flesh with her tongue.

Desperate sounds of need and desire rumbled from his chest. He dug his fingers into her hair, without the slightest intention of doing so, and dropped his head back, clenching his eyes shut.

"You're going to come now," she whispered.

"No." He struggled to fight it, but her tongue was rapidly stroking away his resistance. Assuming he'd ever had any resistance where she was concerned. He was pretty sure he hadn't. "I want... I want to be inside you, Chlo."

"You can't wait that long." She spoke with quiet confidence, and her tongue brushed over the delicate skin on the head of his cock, swirling around him in endless circles, licking away his precome and the remainder of his resistance, all at once. He sobbed and jerked as his erection throbbed violently.

God, she was right. There was no way he was going to be able to wait. Especially not when she...

She opened her mouth and let him slide between her lips, and suddenly he couldn't stop it from happening, couldn't stop himself from giving in to her. He thrust hard into the warm, soft depths, sinking deep inside her mouth. Spasms started somewhere deep in his balls, and rapidly sped upward. He gave a long cry of ecstasy as he erupted in a long, intense orgasm that felt like an X-rated version of heaven, his back arching, his muscles tensing, his hips jerking wildly.

She didn't stop, didn't back away, just kept making love to him with her mouth until the very last spasm faded and he collapsed back against the couch, his cries fading to soft gasps, gray spots dancing in his vision.

She climbed off the floor and cuddled up next to him on the couch. He put his arm around her and held her tightly, still breathing hard.

"You still haven't managed to get inside me," she said, smiling up at him. "Ten years, and it's always the same. You're easy, Clark."

He gave a long, satisfied sigh and dropped his head onto hers. It had been a decade since the night she'd first seduced him. She'd approached him on an old, ratty red couch in the loft of his parents' barn, rather than the old leather couch in a downtown Metropolis apartment where they sat now. She'd been under the influence of a love potion, but he hadn't known that, and she'd seduced him exactly this way, with the exact same words, touching him, kissing him, licking him...

He'd given in to her, utterly helpless against the touch of her hands and mouth and body. He'd wanted to make love to her properly, but he just hadn't quite managed it, because she'd gotten him way too worked up.

Every year they dug out his old football jersey and reenacted their first time together. And ten years later, he still hadn't managed to get inside her on this date. Maybe deep down he really didn't want to. Or maybe she was right, and he was just hopelessly easy where she was concerned.

"Next year," he said with more confidence than he really felt. "Next year, I'll do it."

"Well, we'll see." She laughed softly. "It's something to look forward to, anyway. Now, what happens next?"

He pulled her closer to him. "I don't know," he said, breathing in the vanilla fragrance of her hair. "I don't think there's a script."

"Well, let's improvise. Maybe you can come up with something... innovative."

"After ten years? We both know I'm not all that creative, Chlo. But I guess I can try."

"Try really..." Her hand ran down his stomach again. "Hard."

He smiled down at her, then bent to kiss her. He spoke against her lips.

"Okay," he agreed softly. "I'd do anything for you, Chloe."

-The End-