Chapter 27
She saw it. She saw him lock the door and a dark thrill went through her. He turned, but didn't come near. He just leaned against it, no longer the bumbling idot from a moment ago. He was... most definitely not mild-mannered now.
His eyes flashed behind the glasses. "Just what do you mean by that?"
She found her legs rubbing against each other. This was the side of Clark that didn't say please. This was the side that had used her for years. And, God help her, she wanted him to use her right now. She pushed. "I meant what I said. Running away. That's what you do best."
"If you're talking about Maine..."
"No. Not Maine. I know you had no choice. Though I do find it intriguing that your father's call came right after we had our first honest sex. I'm talking about..." She smiled. "Well, always." She stood, casually making her way to the shelves. She let her fingers run over the spines of what looked like some very expensive first editions. "Clark Kent does his business, then runs. Whether it's stopping a speeding car or doing his best friend, he runs off. He never stays. There are repercussions when you stay."
"And you're so loyal and long-suffering aren't you, Chloe?"
She turned, leaning against a sliding ladder at the end. "That was a little below the belt. Mind me asking what prompted it?"
He pushed away from the door and went toward the shelves on the other side. "I didn't really expect you to wait, I guess. But what you did..." He trailed off. She had a feeling it was deliberate. He was directly on the other side of the room from her.
"Are we still talking about Ruby Ridge?" When he stepped forward, she found herself doing the same on her side.
"We're talking about something else now." He stepped. She stepped. They were circling.
"Could you be clearer?"
"I just wonder how Lex Luthor knows what your pussy tastes like."
The word, coming from Clark, shocked her. But she stood straighter, lifting her head as she stopped in front of the window. "I did what I had to do."
He broke their circle first and stepped inward. "And that means what?"
She didn't move. She'd chased him enough this week. She'd been unrelentingly understanding all this time, as well as nearly half their lives. If he was going to throw Lex in her face, then she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. "I went to a party he threw. There was some information I needed to get from a source at Luthorcorp. He came upon me when I was alone and... I couldn't leave without the info." She lifted her chin. "So I did what I had to do. I played along until I got what I needed."
He stepped in again. She didn't so much as blink. "Played along how?"
"Well, it wasn't like I could leave the room. I had to make him think I wanted to be there with him."
"How far did you take it?"
"I only..."
"Did you fuck him?" he finally yelled.
She more than flinched then and found herself nearly sitting on the windowsill. "No."
He almost relaxed. But then stepped forward again. Now the couch was directly blocking him. Would he take the step around it? Even more, would he plow right through it? "Did you come for him?"
"Yes," she admitted, her eyes steady. "I didn't want to, but I did. Still... I'd do it again. The information I got there was crucial."
She saw him nearly shaking, the couch still in front of him. Get me, she thought madly. Just come and get me. His face tensed and he turned, going for the door again.
"And you're running away again!"
He stopped and whirled on her. "What do you want me to do? If I stay, I'll..."
"What?" She threw out her hands, finally losing her cool. "Whatever it is, do it, Clark."
He approached her slowly, his fists still at his sides. "You let him touch you."
She stood still, waiting. "Does that make you angry?" Yes. Get mad. I want you to. I need to know you... care.
He was closer. "He put his mouth on you."
"Is that wrong, Clark? Tell me why."
He was directly in front of her now. His hot breath on her face. "He has no right to."
"And who does?" She felt her nipples tighten against her shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra. She hadn't all week. Tell me I'm yours. I need you to.
"You're mine," he finally growled against her mouth.
"Show me," she whispered.
And he did. The time for sweet caresses might come, but it wasn't now. He bypassed her lips completely and fastened his mouth to her neck, sucking hard. It hurt a little. She didn't care. She wanted him to mark her.
She gasped as he pushed her neckline roughly down, grasping her breast with one hand as he shoved her skirt up with the other. He slid his lips down to her breast and suckled there, his hands moving under her skirt. He groped blindly, then lifted his head, a surprised look in his eyes. She knew why. There were no panties there to rip. "I haven't worn them all week," she said, licking her lips.
The mad look returned to his eyes. "Fuck!" His hands grasped her buttocks, kneading both cheeks roughly as he straightened, dragging her up with him. One leg was over his hip and the other was trying to gain purchase as he walked them backward to the couch. She was surprised that he didn't move around to the front. He let her down behind it. But he didn't let her move. When her hands went to the hem of her shirt, he stopped them. "No."
He pulled her neckline further down and her breasts spilled over the top of it. He stared down and brought his hands to her hair and pulled. It wasn't too hard, but it was enough to get her head back. And she felt his teeth above her collarbone. She'd look like a leper tomorrow, but she could care less.
He suddenly straightened and she felt herself being turned around. She was against the back of the couch and she heard the clink of his belt. It sent a bolt of lightening straight to her clit. "You came for him," he whispered against her neck, biting it lightly for emphasis.
"Yes," she gasped.
She felt her skirt being shoved to her waist. "I'm the only one that makes you come."
"Anything you say."
A hand trailed down her spine and stopped at the small of her back. He pushed and she fell forward, her arms stiff on the cushions in front of her. There was a rustling and she closed her eyes, shivering now.
The thick head of his cock pushed inward slightly, before he shoved it home.
She screamed. Not that it hurt... It should have, but she was so wet for him. "Did you get this wet for him?" he asked, as if reading her mind. She tried to speak, but whimpers were all that came out as he pushed hard once, then again. "Did you?"
"N-no," she said, her voice shaking from the movement. "J-just for..."
"Me," he finished, punctuating it with a swivel from his hips that makes her arms give up for good. Her head slid to the couch, bringing her ass higher and he slid deeper, something she hardly thought was possible.
He began a steady rhythm of slow thrusts. A long stroke in that made her nearly purr, followed by an unhurried retreat. His movements were steady, but his breathing wasn't nearly so controlled. She wondered how long it would be before he lost it completely.
She was all too near, especially as his hips sped up, grinding mercilessly against her and turning her whimpers to gasping cries. Tiny explosions radiated from her abdomen down to her feet and hoarse moans escaped from her mouth, muffled in the couch cushions. He was relentless in his thrusts, relentless in the hands that squeezed her hips, relentless in the words that began pouring from him.
"Mine... Fucking mine, Chloe... Never anyone else... Fucking hear me... Never again..."
She wanted to agree, she wanted to tell him whatever he wanted her to. At this point, she'd agree to spend the rest of her life chained to his bed gladly. She couldn't form words, only grunts that were muffled in the cushion she was nearly drooling on.
He began pounding her in earnest as his body leaned over her. She felt his hand between her breasts and he pulled, raising her up to rest on his hand as he pushed and shoved and...
Her body tensed as her pussy tightened around him, fluttering and gripping him. Something high-pitched and not too sexy started coming from her mouth with every thrust. It was all too much. Irrational tears began seeping from her eyes at the intensity. He gave a few more rapid fire thrusts and it was over for her. She shook like a rag doll and she dimly felt him stiffen as he pistoned inside her once... twice... and was still.
His arm gave out and she found her face in the cushions again as he fell over-top her, his breath moist on her neck. It was only seconds, then he left her, pulling out and leaving her bereft. "Oh, my God," he breathed.
She lifted her head with great effort. "Don't, Clark..."
"Chloe, I'm... I'm sorr..."
"No," she breathed.
"I just..."
It took all her strength, but she pushed herself up. "No, Clark." She turned around on shaky legs. "Don't act like anything was wrong about what we did."
"I was too rough. You could have been..."
"But I wasn't." She wobbled toward him. "I wanted you to. I've wanted this all week. And if it took a..." she smiled, "well, a seriously hot possessive streak, then I'm glad."
He looked conflicted and she leaned against him, straightening his glasses.
"Clark, I'm yours. I always have been. I want you to know it, too. I wanted you to show it to me and..."
He backed away, tucking himself back into his pants.
"Clark, don't go," she nearly sobbed.
"Chloe, I can't... I can't do this..."
"Fine!" she yelled after him as he fled to the door. "I knew you'd run away." She took a deep breath as he left, pulling her shirt up over her breasts. "I knew it."
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