Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Note: Written at the request of CircularTime, and along a general plotline she suggested.
Read Chapter 1 here.
She loathed Lex. Really. She did. After all the things he'd done to her, to her mother, to people like her... she had every reason to despise him.
But she couldn't deny that he was sexy as hell.
She was standing in her apartment, stark naked, and Lex was holding her by the arms with a hard, unbreakable grip, and she... well, she was getting really, really wet.
It was embarrassing, and yet at the same time the ache between her legs made her feel surprisingly alive. She couldn't think of the last time she'd had this strong a reaction to a man. Loathing and physical response twined together inside her, twisting her stomach into knots, making her heart pound and her skin grow moist.
His hands loosened slightly, and he began to run his palms up and down her upper arms. She knew she ought to bring up her knee and knock him sharply in the balls, but she hadn't been touched by a guy in too long a time, and the feel of his hands on her skin made waves of heat rush through her.
His voice was low and smoky. "You wish Clark would do this to you, don't you?"
At the question, anger rushed through her. She didn't want to think about Clark, about the way she was losing him to Lana. She'd lost any hope that he'd ever love her, and now she was losing him as a friend as well, and she just didn't want to think about the whole situation.
"No," she said between her teeth. "I don't."
"Yes, you do." He stroked the inside of her arms with his thumbs, coming perilously close to her breasts. She felt her nipples tighten, so hard they hurt. "But he won't, Chloe. You and I both know that. Clark and Lana are finally together, and we won't get them back. Not ever."
She wanted to take a step back, but his thumbs were so close to her breasts, so close to her aching nipples... "That doesn't make this the right thing to do," she whispered.
"The right thing to do? Probably not. But a satisfying thing to do? Definitely."
His thumb brushed across her nipple, very lightly, and it felt impossibly good. The thought of more satisfaction made her tremble. She leaned into his hand, just a bit, and he stroked her a little faster. The ache between her legs intensified, and she thought she felt moisture on her inner thighs.
"Not just physically satisfying," he said softly. "Think about how pissed Clark would be if he knew. His best friend and his greatest enemy in bed together."
She understood his desire to get back at Clark. He and Clark had once been very close friends, but they'd had a falling out, and now they despised each other. But she didn't understand her own desire to hurt Clark. She'd known that deep inside she was angry about the way Clark was shutting her out, but she thought she'd come to terms with her anger.
But apparently... she hadn't.
Lex was still talking, his voice low and velvety. "And I get the satisfaction of sleeping with one of Lana's best friends, too."
She was a bad girl. A very bad girl. Because the thought of pissing off Clark turned her on a lot more than it ought to. He'd overlooked her so many times, failed to notice her, never seen her as anything other than a friend, and after all this time, it still hurt that he'd chosen Lana over her. And it was even more painful to think that he was beginning to choose Lana's friendship over hers, too.
And the thought of hurting Lana turned her on even more. Lana had been one of her best friends for years, but after everything she'd learned, she no longer trusted her. And on some level... on some level she really disliked the girl, simply because Lana had gotten Clark and she hadn't. Because it hadn't been enough for Lana to simply take Clark's love-- now she was taking his friendship away from Chloe, too.
For the first time she admitted to herself that deep inside, she wanted to hurt Lana and Clark, the way they'd hurt her. She knew she was giving into her most petty and childish impulses.
But in her current mood, she just didn't care all that much.
Lex was still stroking her nipple, and it felt so good she wasn't inclined to pull away. His other thumb began stroking her other nipple, and the sensation of them being caressed together almost sent her to her knees. She arched her head back and moaned.
"That's good," he murmured in his velvet voice. "You like that, don't you?"
"Yes," she whispered, very low. "Lex... more..."
A fierce satisfaction blazed in his cool gray eyes, and he dropped to his knees in front of her. She rested her hands on his bald head for balance, and gave another soft moan as his tongue began exploring her.
His first licks were careful, gentle, and impossibly soft. But his tongue rapidly grew bolder, finding her swollen, sensitive clitoris, stroking faster and faster, until her inner muscles were clenching, her back arching, her voice lifting toward a cry of pleasure.
This was so wrong. Her and Lex Luthor, of all people. It was just... wrong.
But God, she needed this. She was tired of being made love to by a clumsy, awkward boy, or even worse, not made love to at all. She'd needed this for so long, needed pleasure and release and the touch of a man who knew precisely what he was doing, and how to do it.
And Lex definitely knew how to do it.
He brought her right to the peak, and then stopped, pulling back. He rocked back on his haunches and looked up at her, a gleam of amusement in his charcoal eyes. Hher body trembled all over, and she glared down at him.
"What exactly are you doing?"
He shrugged. "Stopping."
"I got that. The question was, why?"
The amusement was still lurking in his eyes, but now it curved his mouth as well. "Because I'm a bastard, obviously."
She barely restrained from slapping that smug smile off his face. She was incredibly wet, dripping for him, and he'd just... stopped. Damn it.
Men, she mused, really ought to come equipped with electric shock collars, so they could be better trained.
"I hate you," she said through her teeth, spurred to rage by that irritating, self-satisfied smile. "I've hated you for years. I hate everything you stand for, damn it. I hate the way you experiment on people, the way you treat everyone as disposable, the way you act as if the world ought to thank you for the horrible things you do."
"I hate you too," he answered evenly. "There's nothing I loathe more than an honest reporter who can't be bought. You stand for all the things I despise, Miss Sullivan."
She glared harder. "Blood-sucking, amoral bastard."
Despite his sharp words, his finger began exploring her, sliding into her wet depths, thrusting hard. And then he was licking her again, and she threw her head back and wailed as he brought her right back to the edge of ecstasy.
God, he was good at this. So good. He added a second finger and thrust slowly, relentlessly, inexorably, stroking her inside while his tongue stroked her clitoris with equally slow caresses. Heat pooled inside her, taking her higher and higher, until she thought she might scream with the frustration.
"I'm willing to bet your farmboy would never go down on you this way," he whispered against her, every puff of breath a stab of pleasure. "I bet he doesn't have the guts to try anything beyond the missionary position."
She didn't want to think about Clark right now. She didn't want to think about anything but this. She moaned, feeling herself creaming all over his hand, so close to orgasm that she could hardly keep on her feet. Her knees were weak and her legs trembled, and if she didn't come soon she was pretty sure she'd die.
His tongue went back to teasing her, little taunting licks, and her fingers tightened on his skull, trying instinctively to pull his hair. But there was nothing there to pull.
"You're ready to come for me," he whispered. "Aren't you, Chloe?"
"Lex... oh, Lex..."
"If I move my hand just a little faster, you'll come like a rocket. Won't you?"
She forced her eyelids open and glared down at him. "Do you always talk this much?"
He grinned up at her, a nasty grin that wasn't at all friendly. "Only when I'm trying to piss someone off."
"You're doing a damn good job of it."
"You can tell yourself you're pissed off all you want," he answered, "but all you really want right now is to come."
He was right. The ache inside her was quite simply unbearable. She could feel her womb clenching, deep inside, could feel the inner muscles of her pussy quivering with need. She was so turned on she couldn't bear it any longer.
"Yes, Lex," she whispered. "That's what I want."
He leaned forward, and then his tongue was stroking her, fast and hard, and his fingers were fucking her, and she threw her head back and screamed as an incredible wave of rapture washed over her, drowning her. It was so good, the most utterly complete release she'd ever experienced, and he didn't let up, kept stimulating her while her muscles shuddered around his hand over and over again.
She came so many times she lost count. At last he pulled his fingers out of her and moved away, and she stood there, trembling, barely able to stand. She wasn't sure if she was trembling with post-orgasmic weakness, or self-loathing.
Because now that her physical cravings had been so utterly fulfilled, she was horribly, deeply embarrassed to realize what she'd just done.
What she'd just done with Lex Luthor.
"Get out," she said, her voice low.
He rose to his feet and looked at her, that annoying, smug smile still in place.
"Chloe," he said, shaking his head. "No, Chloe. We aren't through yet." He took a step toward her, putting his hands on her upper arms again, and looked right into her eyes.
"In fact, we've barely begun."
Read Chapter 3 here.