Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Sequel to Anything Goes, which is no longer available to be read. Requested by Tobywolf13.
The call came while Chloe was in her Journalism Ethics class. She felt her phone vibrate, and was strongly tempted to ignore it, because this was her favorite class. But she knew she couldn't afford to refrain from answering calls right now.
She pulled it out of her pocket, and sure enough, it was Clark. She headed rapidly for the hall, avoiding her professor's annoyed gaze.
By the time she'd gotten to the wide, marble-floored hallway, her phone had stopped buzzing. She sighed, and began to dial Clark. But before she'd even gotten to her contacts list, there was a rush of wind, and he stood in front of her, glaring.
"Why are you ignoring your phone?" he demanded.
She looked up. He was clad in his usual uniform of blue t-shirt, red jacket, and worn jeans, but he wasn't wearing his usual amiable expression. He was practically radiating impatient lust, his fists were clenched, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Definitely that time of the month, she thought.
Six weeks ago, Clark had entered Kryptonian adolescence. Kryptonian males weren't like humans, sexually speaking, and they were only fertile for a few days out of every Kryptonian month. But those few days were a wild rollercoaster ride of hormones and insatiable sexual need.
And last time, those few days had changed the tenor of their relationship forever. They were lovers now, not just friends.
"I wasn't ignoring it," she said, striving for a gentle tone, even though his attitude got her hackles up. It wasn't his fault he was being flooded with hormones. "I just had to get out of class before I answered."
He acknowledged that with a jerky nod of his head. "I need you, Chlo."
"Yeah," she answered, privately amused by his inability to deal with small talk. "I got that. Come on, let's go find someplace private. Want to go back to the farm?"
"My mom's home, and I haven't told her about all this yet." He was visibly fidgeting now, and she wondered how long he'd been suffering before he'd finally called. She'd told him, over and over again, to call her the minute he became aware of the hormones filling his bloodstream, but she knew Clark, and she'd been fairly certain that he'd try to deal with it and suppress it for as long as he could.
Which meant he was probably pretty damn worked up by now.
"I think my roommate might still be in my dorm room," she said. "She likes to sleep late on Tuesdays. So I'm not quite sure where..."
"Anywhere." He caught her by the waist and stared down at her. There was a fierce intensity burning in his eyes, and she knew it wasn't directed solely at her. If he hadn't been able to find her for some reason, he'd eventually have had sex with any available female. He was that out of control. "I don't care where. But it has to be now, Chloe."
She closed her eyes, because the idea of doing it "anywhere" made a fire light inside her, too. But she had to be the responsible one, because Clark was incapable of being responsible right now. And no matter how sexy Clark was in this desperate, sweaty state, she was not making love to him in the hallowed halls of Met U.
"Okay," she said, sorting rapidly through options in her head. "Out by the lake, in the woods, there's an old amphitheater where they used to put on plays. No one's used it in years. There's a tower there, and if we go up to the top..."
She didn't get to finish her sentence, because Clark picked her up, none too gently. There was a whoosh, and the next thing she knew she was in a small brick building, and Clark was placing her onto his red jacket, which he'd dropped onto the leaf-littered concrete floor, and leaning over her, a look of desperate need on his face.
She turned her head. Through the glassless window she could see the dense woods, vivid green in the morning sunlight, and she knew they were in the tower by the lake. But that didn't mean they were totally alone.
"Clark," she said, pushing at his shoulders. "Other people come out here too, you know. If anyone's around..."
He cocked his head, listening. "The nearest person's about three-quarters of a mile away," he said.
"Okay. We'll need to keep it quiet, because sound carries over water..."
"I can be quiet," he assured her.
Sure you can, she thought, remembering last time, remembering the way he'd screamed every time he came. Under the assault of all those hormones, Clark didn't care much about anything but his own satisfaction. Which was fine on the Kent farm, but in public, that might get them arrested.
She pushed her concerns aside, figuring Clark's superhearing and superspeed would get them out of any trouble. She wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders and lifted her head, brushing a light kiss over his throat.
A low noise of need rumbled from him, and his body moved against hers in an unsubtle, sexual motion. "Chlo," he whispered. "I need you so much. I need you more than anything."
Warmth rushed through her at his words, even though intellectually, she knew that right now, all he needed was a warm female body. She understood that under the influence of overpowering Kryptonian hormones, he wasn't really himself right now. The rest of the time, he was as devoted a boyfriend as any girl could want, and still her best friend besides. But right now he was just a seething mass of need and hunger that had to be satisfied.
She didn't mind helping him out with that.
She kissed his throat again, and his hands began roaming all over her. He lowered his head and kissed her, hard, almost brutally. She responded, kissing him back hard, practically sticking her tongue down his throat. Ordinarily she kissed him and touched him gently at first, but it was clear he wasn't in the mood for gentleness.
He went into superspeed, for just an instant, and suddenly they were both naked. She didn't mind. The feel of his big, hot, mucular body pressing up against hers-- well, she really didn't need foreplay when he was naked against her. She could feel warmth eddying between her thighs already.
"Ahhhh." He gave a long moan of satisfaction as the head of his cock nudged right up against her moist body, and sweat broke out all over his skin. "Yes, Chlo, yes, yes..."
She parted her thighs, wrapping them around his hips, and waited for him to sink deeply into her. But to her surprise, he held still, simply rubbing against her. Agonized groans rose from his chest, but he didn't attempt to go any further. She could feel him trembling in every muscle as he somehow restrained himself.
"Clark," she whispered in his ear. "It's okay. Go ahead."
He lifted his head, clenching his eyes shut. His face was contorted as if he were in pain. "You deserve more than this," he whispered. His voice was gravelly. "You deserve to be made love to slowly, Chlo. You deserve foreplay and candles and kissing..."
Tears stung her eyes at the words. Despite the hormones drowning him, he was trying to make this good for her, trying to treat her the way he thought she ought to be treated. She knew firsthand how out of control he got, and she appreciated the willpower it must take to hold himself back. But she also knew he couldn't restrain himself for long.
"We made love like that the other night," she reminded him. "We always make love like that." She stroked his hair in a gesture of affection. "But this is okay, too. In fact, the truth is I kind of like it hard and fast."
His eyes snapped open, and in their depths she could see the lust burning out of control. "No kidding."
"No kidding." She grinned at him, and quoted one of their favorite songs. "I want to fuck you like an animal, Clark."
"Oh, God," he answered in a low growl, closing his eyes and burying his face in her neck. "Me too."
And then his body was driving into hers, so hard it stole her breath away. She arched her neck back, gasping, and he hesitated, deep inside her.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No." She dug her hands into his hair again. "Come on, Clark. Give it to me, now."
Under the influence of hormones, he was always very serious, but he flashed a quick grin at her impatient words. And then he was plunging into her, over and over again. He felt hard and hot and incredibly good, and she sobbed breathlessly as he made love to her-- no, fucked her-- violently.
He'd apparently forgotten his promise to remain quiet, because with every thrust, he cried out, his deep voice very loud in the quiet woods. A knot of tension tangled low in her body, growing tauter with every motion of his body, until she could barely breathe. She could feel herself growing wetter, creaming all over him, and she lifted her legs a little more, letting him sink into her as deeply as possible.
His cries grew louder, his movements grew more desperate, and then his body stiffened beneath her hands, his spine arching, and a long, wild sound of ecstasy ground its way out of his throat. Pleasure rolled through her, and she writhed beneath him, crying out just as loudly as he did.
At last he collapsed on her, sobbing for breath.
She let him press her into the concrete for a moment, but then she shoved at him. He rolled off her and wrapped an arm around her. A gentle breeze blew in through the window, brushing over their bare bodies. This was, she thought, a nice place to make love, but if they were going to be doing this for the next three days, they needed to find a better location, because if they kept doing it here, sooner or later they'd get caught.
"I'm sorry," he said into her hair. His voice was muffled, but she could hear the unhappiness in his tone. "I hate treating you this way."
She chuckled against his shoulder. "You hate giving me great orgasms?"
"You know that's not it," he said, sounding impatient. "It's just... well, we both know it could be anybody, Chlo. When I'm like this, I could be with any random woman and enjoy it."
"But you're not." She ran a hand over the nape of his neck, feeling him shiver in response. "You came to me."
"Yeah. But if I can't find you, or if you're busy..."
"I told you before, Clark. I'll make time. Somehow or other, we can work this out. And it may not always be this... intense. Maybe in a few months, it'll start to ease off a bit."
"God, I hope so." He spoke wearily into her hair. "It's not that it isn't really awesome sex, but that Nine Inch Nails song fits a little too well. It's like I turn into an animal, you know?"
"I know." She stroked his shoulders in gentle reassurance. "But you can't help it, Clark. It's part of who you are, just as much as the superstrength and the x-ray vision."
"Yeah," he answered with a sigh. "I guess it is."
"And I like who you are. I always have. So if this is part of what makes you you... then I can deal with it."
"I'm glad," he said, lifting his head and smiling, just a little. "Because in another half hour, Mr. Hyde will be back, and I'll be ready to fuck you like an animal again. And if it's like last time... I'll be this way for three days."
She grinned at him, because somehow the idea of having wild passionate sex with Clark for three days didn't bother her at all. Yeah, last time she'd been pretty darn sore when it was all over-- but it had been worth it.
She knew it would be worth it this time, too.