Season 7 (spoilers for "Persona")
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 2 here.
Read the story from the beginning here.
The air in the bathroom was hot and humid, and Clark felt himself beginning to sweat. And it wasn't the air that was causing him to perspire, because he didn't sweat in the heat.
What was making him sweat was the fact that he was pressed up right against Chloe Sullivan's damp, naked body.
She smelled like vanilla-scented soap and clean skin, so sweet a fragrance it made him dizzy. He brushed his lips over hers again, and a rush of sensation swept through him, from his mouth through his whole body, scorching a path down his nerves. He'd wanted to kiss her for so long, and right now he couldn't remember why he hadn't.
Well, okay, Lana. Big deal. He was a moron. He should have told Lana to get lost a long time ago. Then he could have been screwing Chloe every night.
But better late than never, he figured.
Chloe's arms were around his neck, and she was kissing him back. The light, gentle kisses were starting to grow into something more sexual and intense.
When her lips parted, he didn't hesitate. He thrust his tongue straight into her mouth, hard and aggressive and demanding. He heard a startled little sound from her, but then she responded, touching her tongue to his.
Lust exploded through him, and he kissed her deeply, while his body rubbed insistently against hers.
He'd wanted Chloe for a long time, and ordinarily he might want to take their first time slowly, to enjoy every moment of long, careful, sweet lovemaking. But right now he was on red K, and that meant he wasn't really Clark at all. He was Kal, the name he'd called himself during the summer he'd put on a red K ring and terrorized Metropolis.
And what Kal wanted was a quickie up against the wall.
He reached down with one hand and started to unbuckle his belt. She drew back slightly and blinked at him.
"Excuse me. What exactly are you doing?"
"I told you." He heard the roughness in his own voice. "I want to make love to you."
"Um... here? Against the wall? There's a bed right in the next room..."
He lowered his head and bit at her earlobe, gently. "I want to do you right now, Chlo."
He had the belt unbuckled and was going to work on the button of his jeans, but she pushed at his shoulders again. "Okay. Hold it. Something is not right here."
"Things would be just fine if you'd shut up and work with me. Come on, Chlo. Sex. Wall. It's a simple concept."
"It's not a Clark Kent concept. You are not a sex-against-the-wall kind of guy, and never have been."
"I want you, Chlo." The button was undone, and he unzipped his jeans. Now there was nothing between them but cotton boxers, and he pressed up against her. God, she was wet. Hot. Wet and hot. Hot and wet. All the great qualities a girl ought to possess. "I've been waiting for you for a long time. Let's just do it."
"Uhhh..." She sounded momentarily distracted by his cock rubbing against her. Her eyelids drifted shut, and her head fell back against the wall. "Unnnhhh..."
Those were pretty much his thoughts, too. He was mildly concerned he might come before he got his boxers down, but he didn't care all that much. The red K was taking him over, recreating him into a slave to his instincts, filling him with primitive, hedonistic desires, and all he wanted right now was to come.
Although it would be better to come inside of her.
He shoved his boxers down roughly with one hand, then grabbed her by the hips and picked her up, because he was having to bend his knees too much. He didn't get muscle strain, but still, some positions were more comfortable than others.
He leaned into her, and she wrapped her legs around him, so that the head of his cock pressed right up against her cunt. She was soft and creamy and so good that his breath hissed between his teeth. "God fucking damn, Chlo."
Her eyes flickered open, and she stared at him.
"You don't swear, Clark."
"In this situation, I totally fucking swear. Believe me."
"No." Her hands were shoving at his shoulders again. Damn it. "Not like that. What on earth is wrong with you, Clark?"
He sighed. She knew him too well to let him get away with this. He couldn't fake his ordinary mannerisms well enough to fool her, and there was obviously no way he was going to convince he was regular old boring hayseed Clark.
"Let's just say that when I kicked Lana out, I was seeing red."
She stared at him for a moment, and then her eyes got huge. "Oh, my God. Did she--"
"Yeah. She did. The bitch tried to drug me."
"Oh, Clark." Her eyes softened. "I don't blame you for being mad. But you're, uh..." She hesitated. "You're kind of acting like you're still on it."
"Why?" She frowned at him. "Let's find it and get rid of it."
"I know where it is. But I'm not getting rid of it."
His cock was still right between her thighs, and it was getting kind of annoyed with all the waiting. It throbbed hungrily. Conversation was so totally not what he wanted right now, and he gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Do I have to draw you a picture, Chlo? It's a drug. It feels good. Once I'm on it, I don't want to give it up."
She stared at him, big-eyed. "I can't have sex with you while you're on red K, Clark. I can't take advantage of you that way."
"Sure you can." He moved against her, letting the head of his cock slide through her moisture, tormenting her a little. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she dropped her head back against the wall again, making a little sobbing noise.
"No," she whispered. "I can't. If I do that, I'm no better than Lana."
He considered that for a minute. "There's a difference, Chlo. A big one."
"No, there's not."
"Yes, there is. Even on red K, I didn't want Lana."
"That's the difference." He blew in her ear and spoke softly and persuasively. "I want you, Chlo."
Read Chapter 4 here.