Deep In The Bottle (Part Eight)

Lex spread his fingers wider across her stomach and pulled her back harder.

"No," she growled, her hands pulling at his arms. He held tighter, a little too attached to the feel of her. "This is over. I win."

"This isn't about winning and losing anymore," he hissed in her ear.

"Then what is it?"

"Damned if I know," he breathed, letting his lips graze the back of her neck. But something had changed the minute she took off her blouse. It was a message. But what did it mean? "What did you think? That your little speech would send me rushing off with my tail between my legs? Why?" He turned her around to face him. "Because you pointed out that I wanted power? That sex is just that -- a struggle for power?" He smiled. "I know these things." He'd always known them. Every woman he'd slept with, he'd held the power. The investors' daughters, the endless, nameless women at clubs and parties, Desiree, Helen, too, though he hadn't realized it at the time... "Every woman I've touched... they all wanted something from me: the Luthor name and money." He had the power there. Sex was almost a bargaining tool, though they all lost in the end. "But what do you want?"

Her eyes were steady on his. "I want nothing from you." She pulled backward, but he held tight.

He shook his head. "That's not true. You want something. Do you want to cozy up, get me to confide? Is that it?"

"Jesus Christ!" She pulled away and fell backward, landing on the bed before quickly righting herself. "I could say the exact same thing about you. Why did you start this when we can't..."

"We can," he said, dead serious. "You can't just stuff the worms back into the can, Chloe. It doesn't work that way. But that leaves the question... Why would you? I mean, I know why I would."

"Really? Enlighten me." She crossed her arms. "Because the whys of this entire night are beyond me. Why would you?"

"Because..." You came for me, his mind finished, though he couldn't quite get out the words. It wasn't quite it. He'd made them come before. But he was never quite sure if it was for real. Well, it was real, but all those women with their nails raking up his back and their God, Lex! Yes, Lex! He was never sure if it was him or his money, his name. But he knew it wasn't money with Chloe. And she'd probably suicide bomb the Planet before taking the Luthor name. She came when coming was the last thing she wanted, but the one thing she needed.

Or maybe it was because of the one thing they had in common. However ethical her approach might be, as compared to his, the both of them had a tendency to not get what they want. And maybe that was why he wanted her, because of that common ground. And it could just be sex, two bodies getting what they need. And it wouldn't be tied up with expectations, with love. Like Lana...

Or maybe he wanted Chloe the way he'd wanted Lana. Something he shouldn't have, didn't deserve, but that he could get, if he just tried harder... Whatever Chloe said, his marriage to Lana hadn't been all about Clark... Of course, the way all lives intersected here, everything was just a little bit about Clark.

But his marriage had been about Lana. So untouchable. How slowly she'd opened up only to shut down again. His honeymoon had been cold, comfortless. After, he'd only got her tacit acceptance of him in bed, a nod to their union, nothing more. He'd known something had changed. He was good at detecting change, subtle undercurrents that shifted in a moment.

Like now. Her upper body leaned away from him, but the lower... It was straining to him. So maybe her little speech hadn't been about chasing him away. Maybe she wanted him to call her bluff. Maybe it had been a message. She didn't have to be drunk on alcohol or lulled by orgasms to do this. She wanted this regardless. She wanted this, as wrong as it was.

Sex. Was it really just that? She wanted sex, but not because it would yield rewards. They both knew there wouldn't be good fruits from this night no matter what. She wanted sex because she needed to come. How novel.

"Does why really matter?" he said, almost to himself. "I want you." And he shouldn't. It should have been enough that he'd made her come, that he could hold it over her the next time she came at him with snarky accusations. But it wasn't enough, not nearly. "If we don't do this we'll always wonder, you know."

She released a shaky breath that tried to pass itself off as a laugh. "Wonder what? How the hell we even got to..."

"How good it might have been." He reached forward, ignoring her slight jump as he ran a finger lightly over her stomach... circling. "Sex with someone you care about is great, but with one problem--that you care about them at all. You care how they feel, you care what they think. You want to make sure it's good so they'll do it again, so you can feel that connection." He knew. He'd been there. It didn't pay off. "But sex with someone you don't love, don't care about," he smiled, "would probably do a jig if the earth swallowed them whole..." He let his finger trace the dip of her waist. "It's freedom. Freedom to take what you want, do what you want, because... You don't care if it happens again, don't even want it to."

He searched her eyes. They were steady yet slightly wild, flicking almost imperceptibly back and forth from him to anywhere else. Her breathing was shallow, shaky...

"If you want to send me away, you could push me now," he said softly. "Say no. Because, even if you make this about me owing you, I still..." He reached for her shoulders. She didn't flinch. "I still want this." The way her skin felt, the creamy expanse of her stomach, and, dear God, he needed to see her nipples. "I want this any way I can get it." It was true. Right about now, his money and power didn't matter. He was just a guy with a hard cock. The rest of him was just subordinate to that condition.

"So you..." She swallowed. "You admit it."

His eyes narrowed. Was that the game now? Did she just want him to admit to wanting her? Would she send him away then? He felt her shivering slightly under his hands. She wouldn't. He was nearly sure of it. "Don't you?" Wouldn't it be fan-fucking-tastic if she'd admit it, too. Out loud. Just say it.

She didn't answer, though. What she did do might have been surprising an hour ago. But things between them had surpassed surprising since then. Now, when she pulled him by the lapels, smashing her lips almost roughly to his, it wasn't a surprise. It was a fucking revelation.

And he'd take it. What did it matter if she said the words, really? As long as it happened.

She pulled away, her eyes lazy, her lips wet. "Just this once," she breathed.

"If you say so," he said, diving for her mouth again.

**************************

It was so wrong, so disgustingly, beautifully wrong. But she really didn't care at the moment. Just knowing somebody, anybody, wanted her... And it wasn't for research and it wasn't full of demands that she love them and only them. It was just for the moment.

She pulled at his shirt front, waiting for it to give. She'd always wanted to rip a dress shirt open. Now, she could. Because it didn't matter what he thought of her. Their opinions of each other, honestly, couldn't get much worse. She pulled harder, smiling against his mouth when it gave.

He pulled away, looking down at his shirt. "Do you even know what that..."

"Shut up," she growled, pulling it out of his pants, jerking it down his arms.

He pulled away, putting a foot between them and working at his cuffs. "The shirt, I can take, but these cufflinks..." He trailed off, still working at them.

She watched him, wondering at the freedom of this. There were a million reasons not to have sex with your enemy, but one very good one that trumped them all: freedom. he was right about that. She could say and do anything and it didn't matter. She didn't give a flying f*ck what he thought of her and it was just so freeing. All these years, she'd had to be so good for so many people.

For her father... Any sign of rebellion and he'd look at her as if she'd snap, like her mother.

And for Clark... always understanding, always ready to drop anything.

With Jimmy.... Always reassuring, always trying ot be so sweet, propping him up.

For Lois... Seeing her virtually stumble into the things Chloe strove for, gritting her teeth as she smiled.

And Lana... Always supportive of every bad decision, so ready to look past those tiny betrayals... until now, at least.

That was the thing about Lex. She'd said things to him that, had she said them to someone she truly cared about, where tomorrow actually mattered... Well, she'd be mortified, ashamed.

But with him... He could think what he wanted, do what he would. She just didn't care. She didn't have to be or do anything special, not for him. Not tonight. It was heaven... or hell. She couldn't tell which and, once again, she didn't care. "Are you done yet?"

He looked up, lifting an eyebrow. "Are you that anxious? Is this an admission?" His cufflinks fell to her nightstand with a dull clink.

"Not at all." She let her arms drift behind her, reaching up to the clasp of her bra. "But I really am pressed for time. I definitely want you out of here before Lois..."

"Oh, the shame." He cut in as he pulled his undershirt over his head. "Could you just imagine if she found me here?"

"I'd just tell her I was drunk, you know." She let her bra slide down her arms. "You took advantage of me."

"You aren't drunk anym..." His words faded to breath as he stared at her.

He wasn't the only one noticing. He was nearly as toned as Clark, who achieved his physique with no effort whatsoever. Of course, Lex probably had trainers that worked him over for hours. He must pay them well.

"I know your financial situation, but..." His eyes lifted to hers, then fell to her breasts again. "Are you sure those are all..."

"Oh, would you just shut up?" she groaned. She moved toward him, pushing her skirt slightly, letting it slide the rest of the way down. She was not always confident in her body. She thought her hips were too wide, her ankles thick, her hands rough and unfeminine, but her breasts... She knew that they, while not the largest ever, were damn near perfect when unclothed. And she basked in it. He'd probably seen breasts that were a surgical work of art. To see Lex Luthor gaping at hers?

Well, it was heady, to say the least.

"Fucking beautiful tits," he said, nearly reverently.

"Do you want to touch them?" she asked, stopping in front of him. She wanted to grant her body to him like a boon. Just because he wanted it.

"You know I do."

"Go on, then." He looked wary, like it might be a trick. "No more tricks," she said steadily. "No more games. This happens."

He stepped forward, staring her up and down, reached a hand toward her...

"Wait."

He stepped back, nodding. "I knew it. What do you want to do now? Analyze this moment, as in why I reached with my left when..."

"Oh, please!" She rolled her eyes. "If anyone wants to talk out every second, it's you. I've only told you to shut up twenty times and you keep..."

"Fine," he growled. "For once, I talk more than you do. Now what?"

She glared, but let the "for once" slide, even though she knew that Lex probably loved nothing more than the sound of his own voice pontificating. "We don't talk about this, neither of us."

"Like I'd want anyone to know."

"Like I would," she shot back. "But that's obvious." She crossed her arms over her breasts, noting his faint look of disappointment. "I know you, Lex. When something's not going your way, you sink low. I just want to know that the next time we're at loggerheads, you won't decide to pull out the I fucked you card to make this some kind of sick victory for you when this is just a mutual..."

"You think I'd do that?" His eyes were wide, but she knew an act when she saw one.

"I know you would. So say you won't."

His eyes returned to their normal state of half-masted boredom. "Fine. I won't."

"Promise me."

She saw his fists clench slightly. "I promise."

"Swear on your mother's..."

"Jesus, Chloe just..." He didn't finish, just grasped her arms and pushed. Her back hit the bed and he followed her down, pulling her arms away from her breasts. "I promised, okay? Never had to work so hard just to get to god damned second base."

She really didn't have anything to say to that, considering he said it all against her breast and the sparks that flew all over her were a little distracting for thought, let alone words. It didn't usually feel so good. She'd thought of her breasts as an amusing plaything for Jimmy, but never something that could make her so... "Mmmph!" Was he actually... licking the underside? She let out a gasp. That was new. He'd probably learned that from one of his many...

She squeezed her eyes shut. she really had to stop comparing him to Jimmy and comparing herself to scores of surgically enhanced debutantes. It only spoiled the sensations.

And there were many. Such as the way his hand kneaded her right breast, thumbing her nipple, while lips, teeth and tongue worked at the left. Her hips rose off the bed without any permission from her.

He started kissing his way downward, but she stopped him, sitting up. They'd already been there once. She knew what happened. She came, he got smug, it got annoying, and they fought. And, for once in her life, she didn't want to fight with Lex Luthor. "Stop."

She pulled upward and he stood, one knee on the bed. "What? Sobering up already?" He stood all the way. "Of course, you never do see things through, so I guess I'm not..."

"God, do you ever shut up?" He started slightly as she pulled at his belt. "I'm considering not seeing things through if I hear one more complete sentence from you." She pulled his belt from the buckle and moved to his button and zipper. She looked up. "Want to get anything else off your chest?"

He closed his mouth and shook his head.

She pushed his slacks down past the boxers that probably cost more than her entire ensemble, now crumpled in various places on the floor. She took a deep breath. "Good."

Previous Part


Part Nine

No comments: