Almost Clark (Chapter Eight)

Still spoiling Gone.

Chapter Eight

She dropped her hands to her side and backed away.

He shook his head and held up his right hand. "You've been bad, Chloe."

The ring. "Oh, my God," she breathed, staring at his hand.

That same hand reached to the side and flipped to lock on her door. "No, just me," he purred, stalking toward her.

"Not again," she said, almost to herself. "Please."

"What's the matter, Chloe?" he asked, stopping just in front of her. His face was deceptively innocent, a mockery of himself. "Isn't this what you wanted? I mean, you kept the ring."

"I told you why before. It was just in case we can find out why it makes you..."

"Try again," he said, making a soft tsking sound. "You were waiting for this. You wanted me to put it on... and do you know why?"

She didn't answer, but quickly skirted the bed, putting just a little more distance between them.

"You want to be f*cked," he answered for her.

"No," she spat. She couldn't take this again. It took a year to get over the last time. She was angry, scared and... that was all. She would let no other feelings in. She had to protect herself. "I want you to leave."

"Really?" he said incredulousy. "I thought you wanted me to stay." He half-smiled. "Or has my sense of smell failed me?"

She didn't even want to think what he meant by that. She shook her head. "I'm over you, Clark."

"Clark?" He came around the bed. She backed up to the wall. There was nowhere else to go. "Didn't we learn this lesson last time?" He looked around. "I don't see any Clark here."

She braced herself against the wall. "Well, he's in there somewhere and he doesn't want to ruin things. We're normal now."

"Normal?" He placed an arm on either side of her. "We spent roughly seven hours, on and off, fucking. And you want to avoid it. So does he. Me?" He licked his lips. "I don't really feel like going with the party line. In fact, I demand a repeat." He lowered his head just as she slipped under one arm.

She didn't get as far as the bed before he trapped her again. His arms around her waist. "Gotcha!" he said, smiling.

She pried at his arms. "This isn't funny, you bastard!" She gave up and pounded at his chest. "It's about Lana, right? You know she met someone and you're using me! No! I won't..."

"Shhhh!" One hand came up to cradle the back of her head. "You'll wake everyone up."

"I don't care! I was over it! I was over you and him and all of this shit. You can't just..."

Her cries were cut off abruptly when his mouth came down on hers.

She froze.

He'd never done that. Not as Kal, not as Clark. She wished he hadn't. She didn't want Kal to kiss her. She wanted Clark. And she didn't even want to want him. She could have sworn she was over him.

Yet she felt her mouth opening under his. His tongue slipped in to tangle with hers and she let out a muffled moan. She wasn't over him. Maybe she never would be. It made this even more bittersweet. She was powerless to say no to something that would break her heart all over again. She couldn't refuse him.

She tried, though, one last time. "Please don't do this to me," she whispered, turning her face away, letting tears escape. She looked up at him, begging with her eyes.

The red glow faded from his eyes. They drifted over her tears. He swallowed hard, looking as if he was in pain. "Then tell me to go," Clark pleaded. And it was Clark. She'd know him anywhere, even underneath this monster.

She took a deep breath. "I want you to... I think you should... Please just..." She dropped her head to his chest. "I can't," she cried.

His hand moved up her back and around to her chin. He forced her gaze to his. "Then stop it," he said, the red flashing in his eyes again. Her eyes dried up as if he controlled them. He pulled at the sash on her robe and backed her towards the bed. His eyes devoured every inch he revealed. She shivered, feeling a warmth and a rush of wetness below replace her dry eyes. "This is what you wanted," he said, lowering her to the bed with a gentleness she hadn't yet felt with him. "You've been needing this all year." His lips grazed her bare breast as he hovered over her.

"Yes," she gasped as his lips moved lower, so tired of denying what she wanted. "Please."

He stopped, his lips hovering inches from her clit. "Please, who?"

She looked down her body, saw his determined gaze. He could wait forever. He was going to make her say it. Her eyes fluttered closed. "Please, Kal."

All gentleness vanished then. His hands gripped her hips, his mouth devoured her as his tongue swirled around and around, faster than she thought humanly possible. She let her hands drift down her own body, searching for him. She found purchase in his hair, pulling on it so hard it should hurt. He stopped. She could practically feel him smile against her. "Still mad, are we? Because I could stop."

She raised her head up and glared down at him. "Don't you dare!"

He winked at her. "Just checking." It only took ten more seconds and she was writhing, pulling the pillow over her head to muffle her cries. It just wouldn't do to have Daddy and Lois burst in to see what appeared to be Clark with his head buried between her legs. She wondered if he'd stop, even then. Probably not. And the thought, combined with his strangely powerful tongue made her back arch off the bed, her heels dig into his back as her body shattered into a million pieces.

Or at least it felt that way.

She barely had a second to recover before he fairly picked her up and turned her over. "Don't lose that pillow, now," he said, mockingly.

"What about you?" she hissed, throwing a glance over her shoulder.

He laughed softly, even as he slipped inside her. "I think I can control myself."

He thrust in and out of her, a little too hard for her to concentrate on the snide remark she'd been preparing. It felt too good. "Bastard," she hissed. It was all she could get out before she had to bury her face in the pillow. He grunted and gripped her hips harder, driving into her faster. So that's what he likes, she thought.

Even as he turned her on again, she wanted to break him as he'd broke her.

"Harder," she said, lifting her head.

"I don't... take orders from you," he panted.

She lifted her head again. "I said harder, you son of a bitch!"

"Fuck!" he ground out.

That got him. Each thrust moved her forward until she had to put a hand to her headboard or else her head might take a serious blow. His thrusts became disjointed and she could now feel his breath on her neck, irregular pants that sent chills down her spine. She pushed back against him hard. That was all it took. She felt her body tighten around him even as his harsh breaths turned into groans. She buried her face, but it was his voice that was echoing through the room as he emptied himself in her.

He collapsed on top of her, panting against her neck. "Wha's that noise?" he said blearily.

Her pounding heart must be so loud, he was hearing it. It was getting faster, too.

"Chloe!" she heard. That wasn't her heart. That was coming from outside her door. The doorknob rattled. "Chloe!"

This wasn't good.

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Chapter Nine