Under Cover, Chapter 3

Chloe/Lex
Season 7
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 the story from the beginning here.
Read Chapter 2 here.

Damn it. She was weak. Very weak.

She wanted to smack Lex across his smug, self-satisfied face, but she couldn't. Because even more than slapping him, she wanted to have sex with him.

And that was a terrible thing to want, after everything Lex had done, to her and to other innocent people. She was pretty sure he'd kidnapped her and experimented on her, although she'd never been able to prove it. He'd definitely kidnapped her mother, Moira, and used her to try to control other meteor freaks. He'd hurt people, held them illegally, experimented on them...

She listed off his crimes in her head, trying very hard to convince herself that she couldn't do this, reminding herself what a bad impulse this was. But Lex was so close to her, his graceful pianist hands warm against the skin of her arms, the musky, masculine scent of him filling her head like a drug...

The warm, satisfied sensation deep in her body began to slowly melt into something else, something that was needy and hungry, something that had never been entirely satisfied by anyone. She felt that spot between her thighs begin to pulse and throb again, and she sighed.

She was so weak.

It's not like I want to marry the guy, she told herself defiantly. It's just meaningless, casual sex. Not that big a deal.

Deep down, she knew she was rationalizing. It was that big a deal. Sleeping with the enemy, making yourself vulnerable to the enemy-- well, it was wrong, but it was also flatout stupid.

No one in this world could exploit vulnerabilities like Lex Luthor.

Having sex with Lex would be extremely dangerous. And maybe, she thought, that was part of the appeal. With Lex, everything, even sex, was a chess game, a battle. You could never tell exactly what he was up to.

The only thing you could be certain of was that he was up to something.

She was quite certain that Lex wasn't here because of her irresistible, overpowering sensuality, or because he just couldn't keep his hands off her. He had a plan of some sort. A plan that involved her somehow.

Of course, it wasn't hard to guess what that plan might be. He wanted to hurt Clark and Lana. If she slept with him, he'd probably find a way to let Clark and Lana know about it.

She tossed her head a little. If that was Lex's game, she honestly didn't care all that much. After all, she'd lost Lana's friendship a while ago. And Clark-- Clark had had a choice to make, a decision about who meant most to him.

And he'd chosen Lana.

Even so, the thought of how he'd look at her if he knew she'd slept with Lex, the terrible disappointment in his green eyes, was enough to give her pause. And yet in a way, it was enough to give her impetus to go for it, too.

On that deep, petty level, she really wanted to hurt Clark.

She wondered if that was all Lex was up to. She remembered her own words to Clark, long ago: Lex comes from the Rube Goldberg school of villainy. And it was true. Lex was impossibly complex. Even when you thought you understood what Lex's motivations were... you usually didn't have the full picture, or even a fraction of it.

Lex lowered his head and began blowing into her ear, very lightly, and she trembled, and quit thinking.

Thinking was highly overrated.

Lex seemed to recognize her wordless acquiescence. His hands began to roam over her naked body, exploring her shoulders, her spine, her ass. The touch of his hands was perfect, firm enough not to tickle but light enough to feel incredibly good. Warmth pooled between her legs, and despite herself, she pressed a little closer to him, turning her face against his neck and brushing kisses there. Not warm, friendly kisses, not kisses of affection or friendship. Just kisses of seduction.

She liked kissing his neck, but she wanted to kiss a lot more. It occurred to her that this situation was a little on the unfair side. She was stark naked, and he was still fully dressed.

Lifting her hands, she began unbuttoning his black shirt. Her fingers were fast and dexterous, since she spent her days typing, and a moment later she shoved his shirt off his shoulders. It fell to the floor.

Lex lifted his head and frowned a little. "Careful. That shirt probably cost more than your car."

"I'll step on it later," she promised, very sweetly. "When I'm wearing spike heels."

She looked away from the glimmer of amusement in his gray eyes, and studied his bare chest. Nice. Very nice. Definitely a view a girl could appreciate. He didn't have the massive, powerful body Clark had, but he wasn't skinny and unmuscular like Jimmy, either.

She could tell he worked out every day, but she could also tell he was aiming for strength, not bulk. His body was slender and honed and strong, as deceptively dangerous as the edge of a saber. It might look slim, almost insubstantial, but it could kill with a single blow.

And so, she was sure, could Lex.

She let her hands brush over his chest, following the path her gaze had taken, exploring the planes and ridges of his body. His eyelids drifted shut, the first indication he'd given that her touch might be affecting him.

She wanted to affect him a whole lot more. She wanted to make him cry out, to scream. Just like he'd made her scream.

But this was Lex, and she wasn't sure it was possible to make Lex lose control like that. She wondered what he was like in the throes of orgasm. Did he bite back any noise, or did he let himself cry out and moan and gasp? Did he control himself rigidly, or did he let himself go?

She ran her hand down his chest, over his flat abdomen, and smiled to herself.

She intended to find out, right now.

Read Chapter 4 here.