Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Promise Me, Chapter 8

Clark/Chloe
Season 6, "Promise"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Read Chapter 7 here.
Read the story from the beginning here.

He'd waited much too long for this.

The light brush of her hand over the nape of his neck made him tremble. The caress of her lips against his throat made him moan.

And the feel of her body against his made him very, very hard.

With a corner of his mind, he was still listening vaguely to Lana's movements upstairs, because he needed to know if she called Lex. But the sound of her tears, and then her rough, angry breathing, were all but drowned out by the frantic pounding of Chloe's heart.

He could hear his own heart thudding in his ears too, could feel the wild rush of heated blood surging through his veins. He needed Chloe, needed her in a way he'd never needed anyone. His hands began to roam over her again, tentatively at first, then with more confidence.

Her hands knotted in his hair, gripping him possessively. He liked the desperate need that was evident in the way she clutched him, but it wasn't quite enough somehow.

He needed her hands on his body.

"Touch me," he whispered against her throat.

"Where?"

"I don't care. Anywhere. Just... ahhhh."

Her hands slid up under his shirt again, and began tracing patterns over his bare back. He shuddered, because it was heaven. It was better than heaven. He felt like he'd been waiting for her to touch him that way for years and years.

The touch of her fingers against his skin was so light that it almost tickled, and he squirmed restlessly beneath her hands, so that his hard-on rubbed against her.

"God." He gasped at the feeling of her body pressing right up against his. The pressure was exactly what he needed against his aching hard-on, and yet it only made him want even more. "Chlo. I'm going to die if I can't make love to you."

"I'm not stopping you," she whispered into his ear.

His hands moved down and fumbled at her slacks again. He'd gotten them unbuttoned earlier, and now he unzipped them and pushed them down. She kicked them off.

His mouth met hers, and their tongues brushed lightly, then slid together in a long, deep kiss. His hands moved down her legs, exploring the silken skin of her thighs. He imagined those thighs wrapped around him, and a desperate shiver racked him.

Her hands unzipped his jeans and pushed them aside, and he pushed her roughly into the wall, pressing his cock right up against her, nothing but underwear in the way. He couldn't stop himself from grinding against her, and it felt so damn good that more moans fell from him. If moan was the right word. They were low, hungry, primitive sounds, like nothing that had ever come out of his mouth before.

Her hands fumbled at his hips, pushing down his boxers a bit, and his cock sprang free. He shoved frantically at her panties, and the next thing he knew she was totally naked from the waist down.

Explicit images rippled through his brain. He wanted to thrust into her violently, to fuck her hard and fast until she screamed for mercy. He'd waited for this so long, fantasized about it so much, that he wasn't sure he could hold back. His body was at the boiling point.

Gentle, he reminded himself. You have to be gentle with her.

And that was the problem-- he wasn't sure he could be gentle, not with this desperate, overwhelming need pulsing through his veins. All his fears of hurting her rose up to haunt him.

He tried to push the fears away. He lifted her against the wall, wrapping his arms around her so the rough stone didn't abrade her silken skin, and moved against her.

The head of his cock pressed right up against her heated moisture, and he closed his eyes and breathed harshly, fighting for control.

"Go ahead," she whispered, her hands digging into his shoulders.

"I can't." He imagined himself hurting her, imagined her hurt or bleeding or maybe dead because he'd lost control of himself. Every awful vision he'd ever had flashed through his brain, and fear pounded through his body like an ominous drumbeat. He couldn't do this. There was no possible way he could make love to her and keep it gentle. He was just too damn turned on. "I just can't."

"Yes, you can." She rotated her hips, so that the hot, creamy entrance to her body slid against the head to his cock, and he sobbed helplessly, with need and frustration and frantic yearning. He wanted her so damn badly, but he just didn't quite dare...

She lifted a leg, wrapping it around his thighs, and before he knew what had happened, the tip of his erection sank into her warm, soft body.

A noise of anguish rose from his throat. Oh, God, he needed to stop. He was going to hurt her, and he needed to stop, right now. He had to stop.

His instincts urged him to flex his hips, to sink into her more deeply. Her body felt so hot against the sensitive head of his cock, and she was so wet, and he knew if he moved just a little he'd slide right into her, and it would be so goddamn good...

He fought his instincts grimly, and held still.

"Clark," she whispered, clutching at him. "Please."

"I... can't." Every word was a tortured gasp. He could feel his eyes burning, and thought grimly that it was just one more reason why he was terrified to take this step. He couldn't control his abilities enough right now, and he might rip her apart, or set her on fire. He thought of her screaming in pain, thought of his heat vision blistering her skin, and it was almost enough to drive his arousal away.

But not quite.

"Oh, God, please." She writhed against him frantically. "I need this, Clark, I need you, so badly..."

The sensation of her slick body moving against his was almost enough to make him come. He fought back the desperate pulses of need that rocked him.

"Stop moving," he whispered. "Please, Chlo, I can't, I'm going to hurt you..."

"No, you're not." Her voice was very soft, but filled with confidence. "You'd never hurt me, Clark."

He couldn't explain the awful certainty he had that he was going to damage her somehow. She didn't understand how fiercely he controlled himself. No human did, not really. He was so much stronger than humans that he could kill them with a mere touch, so he had learned to consciously control his strength. Every minute of every day, he had to be in total control of himself.

If he lost control, even for an instant, he could hurt her, kill her, in any number of ways. He couldn't let that happen, no matter how badly he wanted her. Chloe meant too much to him for him to risk her that way.

But she moved against him, and despite himself his hips twitched in an automatic response, and he sank a little more deeply into her. Only an inch or so, but enough to drag a long, deep groan from him.

"Yes," she whispered, her hands digging into his shoulders.

He closed his eyes, struggling to keep a grip on his control, but he could feel it starting to slide out of his grasp. She was slick and fiery hot, and he wanted her, all of her, so very badly. His balls were taut and aching with need, and his erection was painfully hard. He needed release. He needed to come.

He imagined himself fucking her, hard and fast, and his cock spasmed again. He imagined himself coming, deep inside her.

The image made his heat vision flare. He jerked his head to the side, aiming at the stone wall. The discharge of heat was a release in and of itself, and he couldn't stop himself from whimpering with pleasure as the heat surged from his eyes.

When it had passed, he lowered his head, rubbing his face against her hair. She smelled like vanilla and raspberries, sweet and tart at the same time, and he wanted to breathe her in, to become part of her. He wanted to just let himself go, to let himself just sink into her and let this happen...

"Please, Clark." She sounded frustrated, almost annoyed, and he realized she wasn't happy with his desperate efforts to keep her safe. He could tell she was pretty damn turned on, and he imagined she wanted release as badly as he did.

He shut his eyes, shaking. This wasn't fair to her, damn it. He just needed to pull out of her and back away.

But the honest truth was, that was totally not happening.

Her hands slid down his back, her fingers curling into his ass and tugging gently. He didn't resist, even though he was certainly strong enough that she couldn't move him without his compliance. But he let her pull him closer, and suddenly he found himself deeper inside her, maybe halfway into her, and it was so perfect, so hot, so fucking good...

His self-control instantly shattered into a million pieces, and he surrendered to the need that was swelling inside him. His hips flexed, and his body slammed into hers, as deeply as he could go. He heard her utter a high-pitched sound of pleasure, but it was all but drowned out by his own deep groans.

She felt incredible, and heat ran through his body in long, shuddering waves. It was nothing like the few times he'd made love to Lana, nothing at all. It was so much better.

He withdrew, then thrust again, even harder, and he felt her inner muscles squeezing him as if her body didn't want to let him go. He cried out, his head dropping back, his mouth falling open, and fell into the rhythm he'd been trying so hard to fight. His body pounded into hers, fast and hard, and he felt her fingers clutching his hips, urging him to go even faster.

He was desperate for release, so hot he couldn't stand it. Not just heat vision hot, but hot all over, like his blood was on fire. He never got hot, not even while working in the fields in the middle of summer.

But he was hot as hell right now.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his back, and with each thrust, every muscle in his body tensed. His legs began to tremble, and violent tremors racked him.

"Oh, God." His voice was a hoarse rasp. "I can't stop, Chlo, I can't stop... God..."

His cock jerked fiercely with every thrust, and he knew he was going to come, and he couldn't do a thing to prevent it. Somehow this had all gone beyond his ability to control, and he couldn't even slow himself down and try to regain a little self-mastery. All he could do was let the heat and the pleasure roll over him in waves, driving him closer and closer to an orgasm.

They moved together, harder and faster than ever, and she gave a long wail, her body squeezing around him. He felt the spasms of her climax, long and hard and inexorable, and there was nothing at all he could do to stop himself from coming right along with her.

"Fuck," he whispered, the uncharacteristic expletive springing to his lips unbidden. "Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, yes..."

Ecstasy exploded through him, violent and intense as a summer storm. It was like stepping from midnight darkness into brilliant afternoon sunlight, so blinding he could barely stand it, so hot he burned with it. He turned his head and let his heat vision flare against the stone. At the same moment he thrust into her hard, and come burst from him in long, intense spasms.

He heard his own cries, expletives mixed with anguished, wordless noises, but couldn't stop them, any more than he could stop the rest of it. It felt so incredibly good that he couldn't possibly have kept quiet.

He rode out the storm, thrusting into her until the heat faded. At last he sagged against her bonelessly.

She wiggled. "Hey. You're squishing me."

"Sorry." He straightened up, even though his legs felt like rubber, and looked at her anxiously, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. "Did I hurt you?"

She smiled, and lifted her own hand, clasping it over his. "Not until you tried to squash me into the wall just now."

"But the rest of it...?"

"Was fine. Better than fine. It was great."

He looked her over carefully. "All your limbs are still attached."

"No kidding. I'd complain if they weren't, believe me."

He lifted an eyebrow. "So the only time I hurt you was afterward?"

She nodded, and a sexy little smile tilted her mouth. "I guess we better make love again. Seems like it's safer."

He smiled back at her, immense relief filling him. "Okay," he answered, and yanked her right up against him again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Just promise me you won't panic this time."

He pressed his nose into her hair and breathed in her scent.

"I'll do my best," he said.

Read Chapter 9 here.

9 comments:

Cheryl said...

Yaaaaaayyyyyyyyy! I'm so happy you updated, I LOVE this story!

Anonymous said...

Seriously hot!

Writer & Cat said...

I like the way you're working his control issue in there. Good stuff!

chelsea said...

that was so hot and sweet and romantic i think i even cried a bit.
hurry with the next chapter!!!

Justine said...

yes! Incredible story as always :D I still feel slightly odd about the fact that they're gettin it on in the wine cellar of Lex's house while Lana knows they're down there lmao. But the hawtness made up for it ;)

Anonymous said...

Very hot!

BTW, I know I've said I like your creativity like others, but part of that is them just getting into the situation, the engaging dialog, the insight into the emotions. I read your Live Journal comment about not being sure how many new ideas you have.
I'm sure you have plenty, the appreciation of the creativity goes beyond the mechanics. Not that that's not cool too.

BP

Anonymous said...

Oh lordy! That was hawt!
-Isabelles

circulartime said...

I feel like I'm made of taffy. I'm just melting all over my chair. Gosh...that was incredible!

blackheart_me said...

SEXY SEXY SEXY SEXY!!! Aww poor Clark that can't let his insecurities go. THANK GOD CHLOE PUSHED HIM! BEAUTIFUL ELLY WOOT!