Chapter 2

Clark marveled at the tall, lean goddess beside him. Body at rest, face set in peaceful slumber, naked and trusting with a hint of young woman innocence. His heightened senses took her all in.

The slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, her soft, sure breaths and barely-there but too-arousing shifts in the bed and against Clark's body. Clark leaned over, taking care not to interrupt Diana's sleep, and placed his face so close to her onyx hair the thick, glossy locks skimmed his nose and mouth.

With a deep breath that wasn't at all necessary, Clark inhaled. And there it was, yet another reason why Clark couldn't sleep, why he watched Diana with a lover's interest and slow-burning arousal.

Rich, tangy citrus fragrance with sweet fruit aromas. The soap, which Diana used to wash herself after they'd made love tonight, was actually called Paradise. A natural handmade soap rich in skin moisturizers, vitamin rich plant oils and butters. She'd claimed the natural and organic soaps in Man's World were not of the same high quality as those produced on Themyscira, once questioning if soap producers actually knew what the words organic and natural meant.

Sliding closer, Clark completely pressed his face into Diana's hair, enjoying the silky-smoothness and the nearly imperceptible way Diana's body moved toward his own the closer he got to her.

Clark smiled and breathed her in again. He'd purchased the Paradise soap for Diana, in addition to Bliss, Thai Lemongrass, La Femme, and Island Breeze, along with an assortment of whipped body butters, hair lotions, shampoos, bath salts, and lotions. The basket had been a housewarming gift for Diana when she moved into Clark's apartment.

The owner of Natural Beauty Hair and Skin Care in Sausalito had been more than happy to help Clark select the perfect items to include in Diana's gift basket. The middle-aged woman had beamed up at him, green eyes alight with approval each time she showed Clark a product and he knew, within a second of hearing its purpose, ingredients, and smelling its fragrance, whether Diana would like and actually use the item.

As polite as Diana was, she would never use something on her body she didn't care for just because it was gifted to her. Even if the gift–giver was the man she loved.

And while Clark didn't delude himself into thinking the soaps he'd purchased compared to Themysciran soaps, he did know the products from the little Sausalito shop were of top-grade quality and the owner sold items Diana liked but weren't available on her little island nation. The bonus, Clark soon discovered, was that his apartment constantly smelled of Diana, even when she wasn't at home.

The downside, if one could consider it a downside, was his utterly masculine reaction.

A hand settled on one curvy hip, above the sheet and not at all where Clark truly wanted his hand to be.

Not a downside, not really, Clark reflected, beginning a slow up-and-down glide on Diana's hip, his face still pressed into her sweet-smelling hair.

A month. She'd lived with him only a month, and Clark couldn't get the feel, taste, and scent of her out of his mind. Even Jimmy and Lois had commented on his "faraway looks" and long lunch breaks.

"Why in the hell do you smell of vanilla and sandalwood, Clark?" Lois had said to him about two weeks ago, after she'd cornered him in the elevator. She'd leaned in close to Clark, her pert nose in the air and sniffing like a Bassett Hound on the hunt. "You went out for lunch two hours ago and have come back with a cat-got-the-cream grin on your face and smelling of natural oils."

If Lois's olfactory senses had been as acute as her nose for sniffing out other people's secrets, she would've also detected the scent of patchouli. Instead, she glared up at Clark with a knowing arch to her brow, hands on slender hips and a bodacious, "You got lucky, Smallville. It's as obvious as the love bite on your neck." She punched him in the arm, and Clark feigned being hurt. "And your little afternoon hook-up had better been with Diana or I'm kicking your ass."

"Of course it was with Diana, what kind of—"

Lois had laughed. "Too easy, Clark, too easy." When the elevator stopped at their floor, Lois shot him a superior look over her shoulder before sauntering off the elevator. Clark watched the petite woman make her away around Daily Planet employees and to her desk.

In too much of a good mood to allow Lois to ruin his day, Clark had smiled, puffed out his chest and spent the rest of his day thinking of all the romantic places he and Diana could have a "working lunch."

And all of those "working lunches" had really added up this month, as did snarky comments from Lois and thumbs-up from Jimmy. If Clark didn't stop his mid-day trysts with Diana, everyone at the Planet would be talking about his sex life. As it was, Clark had just gotten around to sound-proofing the entire apartment. Which meant, thank goodness, he and Diana could have sex anywhere in the apartment they liked, be as loud as they liked, and not disturb their neighbors. Who, unfortunately, knew far too much about what went on between Clark and his girlfriend, thanks to their loud and frequent love life.

After the third week of Diana living with him, Clark had stopped counting how many times they'd made love. Well, in truth, he knew the exact number, he'd just stopped telling Diana. She didn't seem to want to think too much on how often they made love.

During that first week, Clark had told Diana, with much confidence, that everything would even itself out. Well, three weeks later, nothing had changed. If anything, Clark found himself wanting Diana more, which was insane.

He sighed, wondering if this was a problem, a phase, or nothing for him to worry about. Who were they hurting? No one. Their sex life didn't interfere with their professional and personal duties, despite their penchant for afternoon sex.

Clark enjoyed the feel of Diana's thigh under his exploring hand, unconscious of the slow, rhythmic rocking of his hips into her tempting backside.

Rock.

Rock.

Rock.

She sighed, a sleepy moan that sent all kinds of carnal thoughts through Clark's mind.

Rock.

Rock.

Rock.

Suddenly annoyed with the barrier that was the cotton flat sheet, Clark slid his hand under the cover and onto Diana's bare, warm body. Yes, this was much better, what Clark needed, wanted.

An hour ago, he'd told himself he would only watch Diana sleep and be content with that. But it had been a lie, a self-delusion meant to cajole a restless, needy Kryptonian.

Rock.

Rock.

Rock.

The hand stroking Diana's soft, muscular thigh meandered its way up her side and over to a breast, a nipple.

He played, thumbing the nipple until it hardened, becoming sensitive under his deliberate, sensual fingering.

Rock.

Rock.

Rock.

A throaty moan and then more rocking.

Diana, not Clark.

Her bottom came into direct contact with him, a teasing swaying of hips that had Clark squeezing her nipple harder and searching for something to bite down on.

Finding her shoulder, Clark bit.

Not hard.

Not rough.

Just enough to set the mood for what was to come, an unquenchable carnal need that sometimes spiraled out of control.

Clark bit Diana again, just as she rubbed that sweet spot of his with that even sweeter spot of hers.

He moaned, closed his eyes and spoke against her hair. "I was trying to be very good tonight. I promised myself. I was supposed to let you sleep, let you make it through one night in this apartment without" —Clark rolled his hips, rocking into Diana the way his body invariably demanded when they were naked, in bed, and this close to each other— "being molested by your horny lover."

A low, feminine chuckle. Diana's hand rose, found the nape of Clark's neck and pulled him forward. Then she was kissing him, twisting her head and shoulders so their mouths touched, engaged, and tasted.

Mmmm, so damn good.

"Perhaps I've been the one doing the molesting, Clark. Or maybe I simply don't mind having a 'horny lover' wake me in the middle of the night."

Clark nipped Diana's bottom lip, certain she hadn't realized she'd spoken those words in her native tongue. Which, speaking of tongues, was now exploring the bulging vein in Clark's neck.

Yes, definitely good.

"You taste delicious, Clark. Have I ever told you that?"

Diana shifted once more, the back of her aligning with the front of him, a silent communication of how she wanted their late night loving to proceed.

Clark's hand went to her waist, her hip. "I believe you've told me that a time or two. Normally right after you've sent me to heaven with that amazing tongue and mouth of yours."

Sex talk was a new phase in their relationship. They were still trying it out, seeing how well it suited them. For Clark's part, he didn't know how far Diana's sensibilities went, what she would consider crass, offensive, or simply unbecoming of an Amazon. So they were taking it slow, learning their limits, as much as the limits of their partner.

Diana leaned her back against Clark's chest. "You make the most erotic sounds when I do, Clark-encouraging yet desperate. I find that I like that combination."

"What you like is hearing me beg you to finish what you started."

"True." Said with the laugh of a temptress. "But you've done no less to me. And you know how I detest delayed gratification."

Clark did, which was precisely why he tended to toy with Diana and why she had no compunction about paying him back.

But, at two in the morning, there would be no games of temptation and torture between them. Between the shared kisses, touches, and playful banter, they were past the point of teasing, of waiting, of begging.

Slipping his hand between Diana's thighs, Clark set about making Diana even wetter. Dipping in and out, he pleasured her with long, thick fingers, drawing her wetness onto her clit and circling until Diana was bucking into his hand.

With each desperate rotation of her hungry hips, luscious curves pressed and caressed his erection, sending jolts of heat and desire through Clark.

Diana was close, so close to orgasm Clark could feel it. Feel her whole body beginning to convulse, feel the budding earthquake within, the rapid pulse of her heart, and the matching pulse in his.

Reaching back, she found him—long and hard and ready. Knowing his body as well as her own, Diana joined them, taking a self-satisfied gasp when Clark penetrated her. His own pleased gasp following.

Then his hips and fingers went to work, making love to Diana. In no time at all, languid movements and slow loving turned hard and fast.

And the bed was no damn where in sight. But the spot between the ceiling and the wall was, their sweaty bodies wedged together and plastered against the wall.

Banging.

Banging.

Banging.

Damn but they were testing the strength of the reinforced wall and the sound-proofing system.

Banging.

Banging.

Banging.

Ceiling and wall gave way eventually to hardwood flooring, Diana astride Clark, nails digging into chest and eyes gone lightning-white.

Strong fingers found sturdy hips, hold bruising as Clark thrust upward, an eager, bestial response to the spirited Amazon riding the hell out of him.

She drove him crazy, invading his mind and heart while controlling his body with her sensually erotic murmurings. First in themysciran and then in kryptonian, which let Clark know Diana knew exactly what she was saying and what she was doing to him.

Because there was just something so damn suggestive about Diana telling Clark how good he made her feel while speaking kryptonian in that husky Themysciran-London accent of hers.

And Clark, well, every brain cell had taken up temporary residence below his waist. Allowing for nothing more than animalistic moans, grunts, and growls, as well as the occasional four-letter word that too-aptly expressed how Diana totally destroyed him.

Before he knew it, they were racing each other to the finish line.

Panting.

Heaving.

Thrusting.

Shuddering.

Breathing and moving with primal intensity and greedy anticipation, lust and love comingled and bursting forth on ragged shards of succulent release.

And release.

And release.

And release.

Boneless, Diana dropped onto Clark, dark hair spilling onto his chest, his shoulders.

For several minutes, they stayed like that, bodies cooling, heart rates slowing, breaths calming, and bodies still joined.

"How many?" A tickled question against the fine hairs on his chest.

"How many what?"

"Times we've made love since I moved in here? I know you know. Tell me."

Yeah, he knew, but Clark really didn't think Diana would like the answer. When he didn't respond right away, Diana lifted her head just enough to peer down at him.

"How many times, Clark?"

He paused for a second more before answering. "One hundred fifteen."

Diana closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. To his relief, she didn't seek to disengage from Clark. But what she said, did surprise him. "An average of 3.83 times over the last thirty days." Diana sat up, and then moved off Clark and to his side.

He remained where he was, mourning the loss of Diana's scrumptious body overtop of his.

"One hundred fifteen times in thirty days. I think that's excessive." Blue eyes sought his. "Do you think we're being excessive, Clark?"

"Honestly, Di, I have no idea. But maybe you're looking at it the wrong way." He joined Diana in a seated position, thinking they should probably have this conversation on the bed and under the covers instead of on the hard floor. "You once told me that we weren't like other people. Well, that's still true. What may be a so-called normal sex life for humans may not be for us—a Kryptonian with god-like powers and an actual Grecian god." Clark pressed a tender kiss to Diana's cheek. "I say this is probably normal for us, when we're lucky enough to see each other every day. We don't always get that. Hell, when we lived separately and our schedules got jam packed, we would go days, sometimes weeks, without seeing each, no less having time to make love four times a day."

"So, you're saying this is just us? Our normal, not to be confused with anyone else's normal?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying. Face it, Diana, we're the ultimate Power Couple."

"I can't believe you just said that."

A shrug. "Well, after Hessia leaked that picture of us kissing, that's what everyone dubbed us. We should just be happy our hands were above the waist in that picture."

A relieved sigh escaped the Amazon.

"What? Don't tell me."

Diana nodded. "Hessia told me it took her two weeks and over two dozen pictures before she caught us, dressed as Wonder Woman and Superman, doing something tame enough to be posted in reputable news outlets and that wouldn't shame me."

"Wait, you mean to tell me Hessia tracked us for two weeks and I didn't notice?"

Diana got to her feet and made her way to the bed.

Clark followed, settling under the covers and snuggling up behind Diana. This time, the spooning position was chaste.

Come morning, it wouldn't be.

"No, Hessia's not that good. But she is very smart and has full access to my London apartment."

"Oh, I get it. She set up a spy cam. Please tell me …"

"Not my bedroom, Clark, or any other part of the home. Only the balcony. My sister isn't Hal Jordan, Clark. She had no interest in catching us in flagrante delicto."

Right, right, of course not. Hessia was a good friend, not a pervert like Hal. Still, a part of Clark felt a bit exposed.

"So, umm, what did Hessia do with all of her pics?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask."

"Why didn't you ask?"

Diana turned in Clark's arms. "Because to ask would have been a sign of a lack of trust in my friend. I chose to trust she had done the right thing and destroyed them instead of insulting Hessia with such a question. Despite what she did, Clark, I trust Hessia with my life, as well as my honor."

Diana turned back around, finding the perfect spot between his arms once more.

"Amazon pride and trust are not taken lightly, Clark."

He kissed her bare shoulder, tasting sweat and her Paradise soap. "I know."

"I'm tired."

He knew that as well.

"We won't be able to be like this again for a week, maybe ten days."

And he knew that, too, dammit.

"They're my brothers, Clark," Diana reminded him, just when Clark was about to open his mouth about Diana spending seven or more days alone in the woods with two dozen men. "And I'm their queen and only female ally on an island full of unwelcoming women. I want to bring them into our family, but that requires work—on everyone's part."

Clark doubted there was much Diana could say or do to convince many of her sisters to think of, no less treat, the men as brothers, as family. But she was right. As queen, the responsibility of bridging the divide fell on her shoulders. Clark hoped, for Diana's sake, it would all work out.

Because if it didn't …

Clark wrapped an arm around Diana's waist, also feeling tired and in need of a few hours of rest. Yet the thought of sleeping in this big bed alone, for the next week or so, had Clark holding Diana even closer.

"Withdrawal," he muttered against her hair. "We're in for major withdrawal."

A slow nod of agreement. "I know, don't remind me."

"Where exactly on Themyscira will you be camping with your brothers?"

"The southern part of the island, and don't say brothers as if it's an accusation instead of a respected title."

Those men may view Diana as their queen, but he doubted if they thought of her as a sister and not simply as a beautiful woman. But Clark said nothing, unwilling to ruin what was left of this night with his irrational jealousy.

"Don't be surprised or upset if I find my way into the queen's tent or sleeping bag or whatever you use during your outings."

A soft laugh. "Amazons use nothing but bedrolls, Clark. So, unless you're into public sex, I suggest you wait until I return home."

"You really know how to suck the life out of a man's fantasy, Diana."

She laughed again.

Then, because his Diana was super-wonderful, she turned in his arms and claimed his mouth in a long, sensual kiss, full of promise and love.

"There's a secluded waterfall ten miles west of where my brothers and I will bed down for the night."

Oh, but Clark damn sure liked what Diana was suggesting.

"Is that an invitation to Themyscira, my sexy Amazon queen?"

Diana's reply was one-hundred percent naughty woman. "It's an invitation, my handsome Kryptonian, to paradise.

THE END