Still spoiling Siren, Fracture
CHAPTER NINE
She looked away, then back at him, hooking her tumbs in the sides of her panties. "Do you really want to keep talking?"
He sort of did. The words that volleyed back and forth between them were something he was loathe to stop. But the way she hooked her thumbs in her panties and just waited... It did seem a bit like a veiled threat.
So he said nothing more. Just dropped his own boxers as she stared, then made her way up to his face again. "You know... This doesn't change anything."
"Are you kidding?" he whispered. "This changes everything."
She shook her head. "Not in the important ways. We're not... friends."
"Of course not that." He smiled ruefully. They never were friends. The closest they got was that summer, when they, at best, had a common purpose. "But maybe now you can drop the pretense that this isn't... needed," he finally finished. God knew he needed it. He'd been pulling himself in so many directions lately, he barely knew who he was anymore, he just needed something elemental, something clear and warm and untouched by everything he did. But a part of him wondered if she needed it more. It wasn't much of a leap that he would fall into bed with her again. She'd known he would. That she only needed to say the word. She'd done more than that. She was here in this musty room with him, so nearly naked.
He came around the bed to where she stood, still staring ahead of her, her fingers locked in the sides of her panties. He moved behind her and pulled her stiff arms away, listening to the slight snap of the fabric against the skin of her hips. He ran his hands down her arms and pressed himself against her back. "Why now, Chloe?"
She didn't pretend not to know what he meant, shivering as she leaned back into him. "I have to be everything... for everyone. Every minute." She inhaled sharply as his hands left her arms to draw lazy circles on her belly. "I just want a minute that... no one can have."
"Hmm." He let his lips slide between her nack and shoulder. She still had that same smell, nothing fruity or flowery. Coffee and soap and... he darted his tongue to where her shoulder met her neck. Despite the cold outside, there was just the slightest tang of sweat on her skin. "Sort of the plight of the faithful handmaiden. You poor little dear."
"God, just shut up," she said, baring more of her neck to him. "This isn't for you, either." She suddenly turned, running her hands down his chest. "This is for me. Just because I want it."
"I'll just tag along, then?" He grasped her wrists. "You know, I should end this now this just to spite you."
"You know what?" She threw her hands out of his grasp. "I don't care what you do. If you can't shut up for three seconds, then..."
He tumbled her to the bed, bracing himself with his arms on either side of her. "I said I should. Not that I would."
"Well, why don't you..."
He caught her lips, silencing her. He liked that better. She pushed back against him, her hips trying to raise up even with no leverage, half-off the bed. She settled for digging her fingers into his arms, just shy of using nail. Even in this, she was abrasive with him, grappling for control, trying to land on top. He didn't exactly mind. He wasn't sure what he would do if she came at him with honeyed words and soft touches. But the demands and denials seemed designed to make him out to be something begging at her door. And maybe he was. But she was as much a beggar as he.
A point he illustrated when he broke from her lips and slid down her body and to the floor, taking her panties with him.
"Oh, God..." Her hips tried to rise again as he hovered just over the small strip of hair as she panted above him. Small strip? He smiled to himself. Someone got a wax. Isn't that just thoughtful? He wondered if she did it for him, wanted to say it, but he could begrudgingly admit she might be right. The speaking portion of this evening was definitely over... at least if it was to go anywhere better.
He looked up at her, chancing just one more sentence. "You sure now?"
She lifted her head, lips tight and eyes blazing as she hooked a leg over his shoulder.
"Okay, then." He lowered his head slowly as her thighs nearly vibrated around him. He wasn't so much about sealing the deal quickly tonight. If she hadn't backed out by now, she probably wouldn't. But he could make her beg for every second. With words or... Her heel dug into his back and he smiled. Or that.
He brushed his lips over the inside of her thigh and she jolted against him. When he moved to her labia, just lightly running his lips up one side, then the other, she seemed to still completely. That was a new kind of reaction, one where her body hummed in its silence, just waiting for him to... taste. And he tasted, tongue memorizing her every fold so slowly until her shaky breaths turned to light vocalizations, still more breath than sound, but getting closer to where he needed her. And she was close. He only had to breathe on her clit before her other leg shot inward, nearly clamping on his head until he could hardly hear her anymore. But that wasn't an issue when he pressed in hard with his tongue.
"Uhhh!"
Not exactly what he was waiting for, but she'd get there. He drew back, as much as her thighs would allow and waited before pressing against her again.
"God..."
Not the right name, but close. He just needed her to say it. Then he'd give it to her so good. He flicked upwards and her thighs had him in a vise. Maybe too much of one as a ringing sounded in his ear and...
"Shit, shit, shit, Lana!"
As much as a triple-shit wasn't what he expected, the name she chose took him even more aback. He pulled her thighs apart and lifted his head. "Lana?"
One leg lifted over his head as she scrambled over him. One muffled ring sounded from the floor behind him and he rolled his eyes. He turned and grabbed her ankle. "No. No way. You are not answering that phone now."
"It's Lana." She pulled at her leg, but he kept his grip. She bent to her coat and fumbled inside. "I was supposed to meet her. She was going to come to my place and stay over and..." The ringing had stopped, but she still gripped the phone.
"So what?" He smirked and loosened his grip, trying for more of a caress. "Don't tell me the two of you are going to make s'mores and have a pillow fight. I was sure you were over that."
"Don't be an idiot," she growled. "She's having trouble with Clark and I was supposed to..."
"Oh, really?" He started chuckling then. "Not that I care anymore, but... I saw that coming all along."
She jerked away harder this time. "Shut up."
"Like you didn't, too." He leaned against the bed. "Bet there's even a tiny part of you that's eager for this little slumber party, tell her to move on and..."
"Don't assume everyone's like you, Luthor," she said tightly.
"Not everyone." He tilted his head. "Just you."
She stared down at him with something that looked like horror.
"Is it so hard to admit, Sullivan? That you and me... we're alike. Always working against each other, but so alike." He kept his eyes on hers as he knelt upward, felt his way around her thighs. Such, nice, strong thighs.
"I'm nothing like you," she whispered as his hand squeezed her hip.
"Not now. But there, but for the grace of..." God? Surely not. He wasn't sure he could kid himself anymore that what he did was strictly for the common good. His methods... even he shuddered at them now. "I'm not saying this is love, Sullivan," he breathed against her stomach. "But it is a meeting of sorts. Two intelligent beings, just a bit above those we are forced to..."
She pushed at him. "No. Maybe you feel that way, but I..."
"Come on." He chuckled and gripped her waist, standing now. "Don't tell me you hang around Clark and Lana for the intellectual stimulation."
"They're my friends," she ground out, pulling away this time. "And I don't have to listen to you insult..."
"But we're alike in other ways." He backed her to the wall, pressing against her. "Two freaks of nature," he whispered in her ear.
She stiffened against him. "I"m not a..."
"No, of course not. You're just special, aren't you?" He let his lips graze her ear. "I'm special, too, Sullivan."
Her head turned slightly and he felt her breath on his cheek. "You're a..."
"I know a little something about being caught in a meteor shower. Lost a head of hair that way. But I got a little something back." He laughed bitterly. "Can't survive as many attempted murders as I have and not know something's up."
She pushed against his chest, staring hard at him. "So you're..." She shook her head. "And yet you can still do what you do, still experiment..."
"Unlike them, I'm not a danger to anyone."
Her eyes widened. "You obviously don't know yourself very well."
"Are you?" he cut in. He didn't want to talk about him anymore.
"A freak?" Her eyes grew cold. "You know all too well."
"Are you a danger?" he whispered. Somehow, he wished the answer was yes. She'd been latent when he tested her, but now... If she was dangerous, he'd really have no choice. She'd have to be kept somewhere. The idea filled him with a dark thrill accompanied by twinges of loathing. "Are you, Chloe?"
Her eyes narrowed and a strange sort of moan came from her throat. But it wasn't one of pleasure.
He'd done it now. All of his work and just a few moments of truth had torn it all down. Fuck! He could fix this. He'd just gone too far too quickly. It wasn't over. He skimmed a hand over her breast, licking his lips, warming his voice. "Not gonna give me anything?"
The phone's shrill ring suddenly cut the silence.
"Don't answer it." He gripped her wrist. The wrong wrist, apparently, as she brought the other to her ear, pressing a button.
"Hi, Lana."
He shook his head and dropped to his knees. His earlier resolution to have her begging was obviously stupid. At this point, he just had to get her to stay. He wasn't about to grovel, but he had a few tricks...
***********************
"Don't answer it."
She felt his hand squeezing her left wrist. If he'd had the right, she might have ignored the phone... or not. She might have just had more of a fight before answering.
But she wasn't about to leave Lana waiting for her. It was hardly even about Lana's feelings. She'd taken it farther tonight, actually ending up at this trashy motel with him. It was possible she needed a good out because she was ready to take it. Every time she was ready to chuck it all and just... feel, he had to go and be himself -- a scheming, nefarious bastard. He couldn't just fuck her. No. He couldn't just give her what she wanted. There had to be conditions, it seemed.
At work, it was his needling about Clark. At his house, it was this demand that she make it happen, that she admit it. And she had. But Lex Luthor seemed to always want more. Now he wanted to know her ability. And maybe it would be easier. Maybe he'd be relieved to know that her power was far from dangerous -- to anyone but herself, that is. But it wasn't his business. It never had been. It made her think of her abduction, of her mother. And those thoughts made the idea of her even being here unconscionable.
She brought the phone to her ear with a sort of relief. "Hi, Lana." She turned her head resolutely away. "I just had to run to the store. I'm sorry if you've been waiting. I'll be..." Her voice stopped and her body froze, still against the wall.
"No," she heard Lana's voice, becoming tinny and far away. "Don't go to any trouble for me. I actually..."
Her voice disappeared as Chloe dropped the phone. There were times when she looked at her life and wondered if it wasn't all some drug-addled dream. Right now, for instance, she was in a seedy motel on a whim, she was late for a slumber party with Lana Lang, at the age of twenty-one, no less. And Lex Luthor was tonguing her clit. How in the hell did anyone get here?
"Stop it," she hissed, trying to close her legs. He didn't, not looking up, just holding her thighs hard and resolutely working at her.
And she could hear the phone, far away on the carpet. Lana was saying... something. She could be reciting the Declaration of Independence right now and, even if Chloe could hear, she wasn't sure any of it would sink in. She couldn't expect her mind to work. Her own legs were failing her.
She grappled on either side of her, feeling nothing but bare wall, nothing to grab onto, nothing to stop her slow downward slide.
He didn't let up for a second, only seemed to crawl backward, hands gripping her thighs a little harder as her bottom hit the floor and her head bounced slightly against the wall. He looked up then, craning his neck slightly, so nearly stopping.
She took the slight moment of clarity and kicked at him weakly, grappling to her side for the phone. One hand left her to reach out and she flattened it to the floor with hers, nearly diving on her side, trying to get closer.
"Chloe? Chloe are you..."
She panted triumphantly and let his hand go, finally grasping the phone again.
"Lana, I'm sorry. I didn't hear any of that," she panted. "I... dropped the phone."
"It's okay, Chloe. I just... I hope you aren't out getting me food or anything because..."
"Damn it! Stop!" She slapped at him, still on her side now, with her free hand.
"Chloe, what's the matter?"
"Nothing," she gasped. "I just... There's a bee and he won't stop... Euff!" Her breath left her as he gripped her waist and pulled, making her flip slightly onto her back.
"A bee? In winter?"
"Crazy, right?" She tried to close her legs again, but he wasn't having it, apparently. If she could just get through this conversation, she could give him a sound beating. "So you don't want food? I can just come back. It's... uh... f-f-fine." God, his finger was inside her now, sort of searching and curling until... "Jesus!"
"Wow. He... must be giving you a hard time."
"You have no idea," she growled, trying to decide what the hell she wanted to do here. Stopping him seemed important, but it seemed hard to remember why exactly.
"Anyway, I'm so sorry you're going to all this trouble because..."
His mouth was on her again and she was pretty much giving up that he would stop. Honestly, she might not survive if he did and... her eyes fluttered shut even as she tried to grasp what Lana was saying.
"...and I think we're going to work it out. I... I don't want this to be over anymore than he does and if we can be open now, then..."
She sat bolt upright, finally scrambling away from Lex. "What?"
"I think... I mean, I hope we can make it work now."
She stopped, back against the motel issue dresser as Lana said the very words that crushed her. She wondered if she knew. She wondered if Lana would care if she knew. Chloe, maybe it's time for you to let go of him a little. She'd said that, too. And she knew, she had to know, how Chloe felt upon hearing it. Maybe she had acknowledged this dynamic that Chloe had only just accepted. This subtle tug-of-war between them. In the middle was Clark and... Maybe Lana had won. She always seemed to.
"Good," Chloe managed to choke out, though it killed her inside. "I'm so... happy you're working it all out."
Lex tugged at her ankle and she glared at him, snatching it away. He stilled this time, peering at her in the dim light.
"I think we will," was saying. "We've been through so much and to just let go after all the..."
"Darn it," Chloe groaned. "I really have to go. This cop is eyeing me and you know how they are with that hands-free law..."
"I thought you were at the store."
Yes. I'm at the store and simultaneously in my car where a bee is harassing me in the dead of winter. Yet all that seemed more believable than the truth. "I'll call you tomorrow," she said abruptly, finally giving up on coherent stories. She pressed the off button and sagged against the dresser. Lana wouldn't call back. She was sure she and Clark had much better things to do... or did they? He was still awfully afraid of hurting her in that particular situation. She vaguely wondered why anyone would be so hung up on a guy that was deathly afraid of sex. Then again, she hadn't been extremely focused on sex, at least not until a few months ago.
She opened her eyes at a chuckle. Lex was leaning against the bed, as naked as she was, laughing to himself.
"This isn't funny."
"No. It's hilarious." He chuckled again.
"God, you couldn't just let me talk to her," she breathed. "I'm trying to have a conversation and you're... you're..."
"Servicing you sexually?" Lex supplied, reaching out to run a fingertip down her calf.
"Servicing me..." She slapped his hand away. "As if any of this was for me. As if you'd do anything that benefited anyone but yourself. If you think..."
"But that's not what's funny," he cut in, still staring at her leg. "Here you are, wracked with guilt over poor Lana sitting by herself, just waiting for you, and, apparently, they're working it all out... again. How long do you think it took her to think to call you? She always was a self-absorbed little thing."
"Just shut up," she hissed. "You wrote the book on self-absorbed."
"Ah, but she perfected it."
"She's my friend and she has been for years." Maybe they'd hit a few bumps along the way, but she wanted to think that Lana might someday become that uncomplicated girl she'd once been. And she'd like to think she was just loyal enough not to let Lex, of all people, demean her. Yet there was that tiny thrill at the idea that Lex could even say that about Lana. Maybe she thought this thing between them was some sort of cold comfort, licking their wounds. Hers from Clark and his from Lana. The idea that it was more was... not something she wanted to think about at all.
"And that attitude really explains your marriage," she went on. "You're the one that..." And how could she finish that? You're the one that turned her into a monster, bent on revenge even to the point of destroying Clark? Because she really didn't want Lex looking too closely at Clark. She breathed deep and took in the eighties-era popcorn ceiling. "God! I wish you'd just shut up for once."
"Fair enough," she heard a moment before she felt his hands on her hips. She opened her eyes to find him looming over her, pulling her under him. Her body slid away from the dresser and she hissed as she felt the carpet scrape against her back. His eyes were hard. "You're no better, really. You have this all-important meeting with Lana and what did you do, Chloe?" She started to push him away, but his hands caught her arms. "You're here with me, aren't you?" He pushed his hips against hers and she let out a choked gasp as he slid against her, not in her, but if she moved just a little... "We're done, aren't we?" he breathed into her mouth. "I mean, we have to be done pretending this was just some drunken accident. This..." And now he did move, sliding inside her just a bit. "This, we should have been doing all along."
"No," she breathed, pushing at his chest.
"No?" He drew back, eyes searching her face. "Sullivan, even you have to admit that we've wasted countless..."
"Condom," she cut in, pushing harder.
He smiled suddenly, then pushed in again, just a little. "I don't see why. We didn't before. And neither of us has fucked anyone since that night and you... you're on the pill, aren't you?"
Her eyes widened. He knew that? She'd been on the pill since last year, about mid-way through her relationship with Jimmy, but... Her anger that he seemed to know things only her doctor should was offset with the fact that... he hadn't? Not since her? He'd seemed fixated, but she hadn't really thought he hadn't been... It didn't matter. "I won't fuck you without it," she said, pushing against his chest until he slipped out. She needed something between them. Any kind of barrier. once could be forgiven, but twice...
"I was afraid of that," he muttered, head falling to her neck.
Her head fell back to the floor. "You mean you don't have anything?"
"Yes, I do," he said abruptly. "But it's the other damned side of the room." He pulled back, slipping a hand between her legs, suddenly thumbing her clit. "Don't get any ideas about moving," he whispered, working at her hard before she opened her eyes and he was gone.
She really wanted to move right about then, pull on her clothes and end this now just for his high-handedness. Because this was obviously insane and sick and every other bad thing... except for how it felt. So sweet and harsh and hot and wrong and... so wrong. Why did it have to be so good? Couldn't wrong things feel the way they should? Sex with someone like him should be painful and sickening... which it kind of was, but not in any way that would keep her from doing it again.
And she was doing it again. Something that was made painfully clear when her body leapt at the sight of him crawling back to her.
He stood above her, a foil packet in his hand. He bent to her, hand reaching down. "Come on."
"No." She shook her head against the floor. "Here."
"On the floor?" His mouth screwed downward.
She wasn't exactly into the carpet here either, but somehow she felt that, if they were on the bed, it was... real. Because good girls didn't screw on the floor of a nasty motel. Good girls probably didn't screw their enemies at all, but she'd forget that for the moment. Chloe Sullivan, despite some failings, was a good girl. She'd never do this. Therefore... She sat up and pulled his arm hard. He landed on her with a harshly grunted expletive.
Chloe Sullivan wasn't really doing this. It probably didn't make sense, except to her. She pushed him up and turned with a sideways glance. She rose up on her hands and knees, feeling him behind her. "Like this."
"Already up for new positions. I must say, I'm impressed you..."
"Seriously, don't talk."
"Fine." He grew silent behind her and she heard a rustling and a tear.
She glanced behind her once to make sure he was putting the condom on. She saw him smooth it over his length and relaxed, facing the dresser. She tensed up as she felt the tip of him at her entrance. It had been a few months and she felt so wound up, so...
"Fucking... tight," he breathed, sliding in just a bit more.
[i]That, too.[/i] She knew it had been a while for him as well and she took some smug satisfaction in it. That he'd been waiting for her. She might have given into her inclinations of moments before and left, but for that. Maybe it went back to how much she seemed to need to be needed. Probably something that went as far back as her childhood, knowing that, even as much as she needed her dad, he needed her to always be his...
All breath and thought left her as he pushed in all the way, hands digging into her waist. She may get annoyed with Lex's habit of analyzing every moment out loud, but she was just as deafening inside her own head except for when he... pushed.
Doggy style wasn't exactly new. She'd done it once, amid Jimmy's giggles about how primitive it all seemed. She hadn't agreed at the time. She'd rather hoped it would be, but it had been about the same, with his gentle, nearly grateful presence behind her, rather than above her or below her. But with Lex...
"Fuck!"
She could feel his breath hot on her back, his hands almost bruising, his hips slow, but so hard.
"Faster," she moaned.
His fingers dug in, then slid to her hips, before he sped up, sliding inside and out. "Like this?"
"Yes," she breathed, as his pace picked up, scraping against her walls, sliding against something inside her that was so... "Yes!"
He picked up the pace even more and she felt that orgasm, on hold twice now, start to build inside her. "Chloe... Feel you... So..."
She felt the same way. Nothing would stop this now. She wouldn't let it. Her own father could call frantically and she wouldn't stop this for even him. She felt her body sliding forward on the carpet, the rug burning her knees and it didn't matter, except... She pushed one arm ahead, stiffening it against the dresser, thinking a concussion might dampen things just a little. She used the leverage against the dresser to push back as he kept bumping her forward, hips slapping against hers.
"Jesus! Best... fucking... Mmph!"
He was very verbal, though not with complete thoughts during sex, she was starting to learn that. But best? Even those words spurred her onward as all his pre-sex babble nearly deterred her. She was a woman with exactly two men under her belt. The idea that she could reduce Lex Luthor to caveman grunts was nearly enough finish her off right there.
But only nearly.
She pushed back harder, faster, both embarrassed and turned-on by the slap of their flesh. "Come on," she grunted, not sure what it was she needed. He was nearly bruising her with his grip, damned near pushing her into the dresser, and moving so fast she wasn't sure there was any more he could give her.
Then his hand covered hers on the dresser.
Then his body bent over hers. She could feel his chest at her back and his breath on her neck.
And then she felt his teeth on the nape of her neck.
She screamed, then, squeezing him deep inside her as he bit down.
Her hand slid down the dresser with a sort of moist squeak, but his hand stayed as his other squeezed her hip, nearly bruising, keeping her up as he thrust and slid inside her.
When her other arm shook and gave out, he followed her down, still pumping as aftershocks ricocheted all over her body until he finally shuddered, collapsing over her with a sigh of her name.
**********************
She pulled her jacket over her shirt, lightly stroking the back of her neck. There would be a mark. She hoped her hair would cover it.
A small part of her wondered what would happen if it showed. Teeth marks were a bit hard to mistake, weren't they? Everyone would know that Chloe Sullivan had been fucked but good. Somebody did it. Somebody wanted to. And everyone would know.
Clark, who hardly looked at her as if she was female. Jimmy, who seemed to be dreaming of Kara, even while she was missing... God, she must be sick. She shook her head and pulled the high collar of her shirt over the mark, bending to her shoes.
"This didn't happen," she said softly.
"What now?"
She stepped into her other shoe and turned to Lex, dressing on the other side of the rumpled, but still-made, bed. "This didn't happen," she repeated.
He caught her eyes, then nodded. "Of course it didn't."
She stood and searched for her fallen cell phone.
"But you should know..." His voice stopped her, bent over the ugly carpet. "I'll be reserving this room every night for the foreseeable future."
She straightened, turning to face him. "Why?"
He smiled, adjusting his belt. "The rates here are hardly a drop in the bucket, after all."
She tilted her head. "So you plan on coming here often?"
He held her gaze. "Don't you?"
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