Author's Note: I am so so sorry for the delay. I would have had the fourth chapter up in the same day as chapter three but once again my computer decided to delete the entire thing, all seven pages of it! (I'm not making this up as an excuse, it really happened) Again there was heavy swearing involved, almost some tears. But it was worth all the extra effort and I'm proud of this chapter. I wrote it hoping to get a glimpse of why Lex is doing what he's doing. This is where it gets dark folks, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I think you will…


If I cut you down to a thing I can use

I fear there will be nothing good left of you

- Lose Control by Evanescence


2012

Wedding Night

Lex huffed as he made himself comfortable in his limo seat. As he thought over the events of the night, he sighed again. It was so frustrating to see her act so happy when he knew she was miserable.

Oh, she had everyone fooled. Everyone but him. He knew just how deep her misery ran, partly because he had helped to place it there himself. The fact that she was still able to put on a happy face actually brought a smile to his face. He had known that she would be a worthy adversary, so to say, but he didn't know just how fun it would be trying to get underneath her skin; which he hadn't actually achieved yet. Although he felt he had most certainly gotten to her, just not under her skin – yet.

He didn't exactly know when his obsession with Martha Kent had begun. He had always noticed her. She was always there at the Kent home, baking and cooking those delicious meals. He could still remember clearly when he had lived at their house for a few days while his father had him kicked out of the mansion. He could still smell the cinnamon and apple as she baked her famous pies, as well as the pot roast as it cooked in the oven. But even before that, he had started to realize who exactly this woman was. The woman behind the Kents and their unbelievable stubbornness.

She was an amazing mother, one who would willingly give up all happiness to protect her child, or children as he thought of how protective she was of Chloe and Lois. Where had that thought come from? He hadn't thought of Lois in years, maybe because he simply didn't care that much about her. But Chloe, on the other hand, had caused too much trouble to simply forget about.

The simple reason behind why Chloe was still alive and well was because of Martha. If she found out that he had anything to do with her untimely death the heavens might actually open up and her wrath would consume him. A smile spread slowly and evilly across his face at the thought of letting the inner evil Martha out.

His mind took him back to the memory of when he had tricked the Kents into coming to the mansion for a meeting. He had purposefully gone to Martha knowing that she was the only one that Jonathon would even consider listening to. Where Jonathon was someone not to take lightly, Martha was a force to be reckoned with. In fact she was in a league of her own when it came to protecting her family, which was clearly evident as she still refused to tell him what had actually happened to Clark.

He smiled as he thought back to the day after he had first approached her in her kitchen those two years ago. The day after she had slapped him and he had gotten his first real, almost brutal, lust for her.


2010

Kent Home

His patience was wearing thin as he sat in the darkened living room, waiting for her to come home. But he would push aside his restlessness by thinking of how she would take the fact that he had once again stolen into her home. Well, technically it was his house, but that was inconsequential at this point. He would simply enjoy her reaction to his presence.

He was rewarded when he heard the lock grating, and a moment later she appeared in the doorway. She had two grocery bags, a briefcase, and her purse. He had a strange and overwhelming urge to offer her help. But he stayed sitting where he was. He took pleasure in watching her, especially because she didn't know she was being watched. She looked almost peaceful, so at ease in her own home that he felt a pang of longing to have that same feeling.

So he watched her.

He watched as she started to take out the groceries and place them on the counter. He noticed that she had bought another bottle of wine, this one just as good as the last one. He smiled as he remembered their conversation from the previous night, ending with her slapping him – twice. He had to admit that she had spunk.

He soaked in her image, her presence, even her scent he could smell from a room away. It was a vanilla scent, mixed with another mysterious scent that he would have to look into. Finally after a few minutes of observation, he got up off the stiff country chair he was in and started to make his way into the kitchen.

Approaching silently, he was pleasantly surprised when she visibly stiffened. Her back was to him, but she must have felt a presence because she turned quickly and let out a little yelp when she saw that he was only about two feet from her.

"Lex." She breathed deeply.

"Martha." He absolutely loved toying with her. It was so fun, and he had to work so hard to get any kind of hardy response from her. She had obviously learned to keep her emotions to herself and had trained herself to give nothing away. He found himself looking forward to breaking her of that habit to the point that she would tell him anything.

She had already composed herself. "Here again so soon?"

"I found myself unable to stay away. Besides it looks as though you suspected I would be here." He grabbed the bottle by its neck and looked at the label more closely. He nodded in approval, and she gracefully took it from him. Walking around the counter, she started to reach out and place it on the shelf above the refrigerator before she responded.

"It would appear that way; however I always keep a bottle on hand. It calms me after a day of stressful work." Her breath came in gasps as she stood on her tiptoes reaching to put the bottle on the top shelf.

Lex's breath caught at how graceful her movements were. He wondered if she had taken ballet as a child. She had the bottle on the shelf but was now trying to push it to a safe distance from the edge. He walked over to where she was standing, wanting to reach out, grab her by the waist, turn her around and thoroughly kiss her. He wanted to run his hands through her hair and gently pull her head back so he could kiss her jaw, her throat and then move to the tops of her breasts.

In a span of a second, his fantasy had taken over and he found himself actually reaching out. When his hands landed on her waist she suddenly jerked around to face him, surprise making her drop the bottle of wine. He deftly caught it, not really realizing what he was doing. He deftly placed it on the shelf above her, now mere inches away from her face, his body pressed against hers.

With as much grace as she could muster, she thanked him for catching the bottle. She had once again ignored his overt attempts. He decided it would be best to step away before he did something that he would regret later. Like ruin any future chance with her.

"Is there any particular reason for you being here other than scaring the daylights out of me?" Her hands betrayed her confident tone when they began to shake. He looked down at them and she followed his gaze, quickly grabbing the edge of the island counter in order to stop the shaking. Her knuckles began to turn white with tension. He smiled at her reaction.

"Do I need one?"

"Oh that's right, it's your house."

"Glad to see you haven't forgotten."

"How could I, Lex? You've threatened to throw me out of my home."

"Only if you don't cooperate with me." He loved that she was so obviously shaken and wondered why he enjoyed it so much.

She licked her lips in frustration and began to put the rest of the groceries away. He knew that she had purposefully refused to respond to his comment and was frustrated himself by how easily she could shake him. Wanting to turn the conversation back in his favor, he decided not to beat around the bush any longer and get to the real reason why he was there.

Pulling out the tape recorder in his pocket, he pressed play.

"Something in that light from the ship must have had a lasting effect on you because you haven't aged."

Chloe's recorded voice rang in the silent kitchen. Martha had been in the middle of putting bread in the bread machine and her hand went still midair. Her shoulders stiffened in alarm and he took a great deal of pleasure in watching her reaction. It was almost orgasmic as he rewound it and played it again.

"How did you get that?" Martha asked quietly, her back still to him.

He waited a moment, letting her reaction sink in and wanting her to sweat a little. "You're not the only one I've had my eye on. Chloe's office has always been bugged, but I would never have thought that I would find something this revealing coming from Clark's best friend. What ship are they talking about?"

He watched as she turned, steely resolve in her eyes and knew that she would continue fighting.

"I'm never going to tell you."

His jaw clenched in anger. He slammed his hands down on the counter, making her flinch ever so slightly.

"You're going to tell me the truth."

"No."

"You do realize that I will find out what ship you two were talking about."

"Of course. I'd expect nothing less from you."

She was beginning to really frustrate him. Obviously she knew exactly what had happened when she had come back from the dead all those years ago, and all about the ship that Chloe had mentioned.

He took a deep breath and removed his hands from the counter. "Well as fun as this has been, I have things to attend to."

Martha just stood there, hands on hips. She was clearly upset about the recording and the fact that he knew about the ship. Her face was flushed and there might have been tears in her eyes, but when he looked closer he didn't see any trace of them. She really was beautiful when she cried. He found that he wanted to make her cry more often.

He passed her on his way to the door, purposefully walking around the other side of the counter just to be near her.

"Think about what I've said. Things will be better for you if you cooperate with me now." He couldn't stop his hand from reaching out and lightly caressing her jaw line.

She stiffened but managed to keep eye contact. He almost didn't pull away, and he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to and was afraid of what he'd do in the heat of the moment. Eventually, he knew, she would be his. But for now he needed to carefully plan his next few moves, or else the end result wouldn't be as satisfactory.

He could have stayed there and bantered with her all night, but it was more effective to leave now. Besides, he had planted the seed and now he looked forward to helping it grow.

Oh this was going to be fun.


2012

Now he sat in his limo, practically sulking. She was the mother that he had always secretly wanted as his own, and the way that Clark had just left her made him angry at the farm boy all over again. To purposefully leave someone like Martha behind baffled him. No wonder his father had pursued her for so long.

He still could not quite believe that she had married his father. His father would no doubt protect Martha for as long as he lived. Lionel would also change her; twist her until she became a pale image of what she used to be. That had happened to his own mother and he didn't want that to happen to Martha. She was one of those rare people whose smile could warm a room full of ice cold politicians. She had such an honest and warm presence that it was hard not to be effected in some way by her. It was wrong to think that his father would be the one to change that.

He wanted to be the one to break her.

He wanted to take her and break her only to build her up into what he wanted. What that was he didn't know yet. It was a challenge that he greeted with open and greedy arms. He had always wanted control; over people and eventually the world. But she was the one person who was still successfully dodging his grasp. That's what made this so much fun. Toying with her was something that, at first, had only been a game. But it had gradually turned into an obsession.

He would control her someday, but until then he would enjoy himself with her. Although at this point she was putting up a damn good fight. He had always had a knack for controlling people, and he smirked when he thought of the people whom he had managed to control. First there was Jonathon Kent. The farmer had put up a good fight as well, but he had eventually gotten to him.

When he had entered the senate race, he knew that Jonathon would do anything to stop him. So when the news that Jonathon would actually be running, he had secretly applauded. He knew that the strain of putting together a campaign mixed with his weak heart would surely put Jonathon into an early grave. And having his heart medicine replaced with useless pills was a brilliant move.

Then there had been Clark. What a pushover; the farm boy hadn't stood a chance against him. It was almost laughable how easily he had manipulated the young man into believing that he was a true friend, someone to go to for help and advice. He had gotten deep satisfaction when Clark had finally realized his mistake, but it was too late. He had integrated himself into Clark's life to the point that he would never be rid of the billionaire playboy. And the fact that he had stolen everything from Clark was just frosting on the cake. First it was the death of Jonathon, and then he had taken Lana from him.

Martha, on the other hand, was the one person whom he had never quite got a clear reading on. One minute he would think that he had her completely, but then she would turn around and dodge his efforts seamlessly with a grace that surprised even him.

Thinking back on the memories of his past in Smallville, he remembered her as always giving him the benefit of the doubt, even going against her husband at times. Like when she had convinced Jonathon to come to the mansion for a meeting which he had lied about. Maybe that was when he had really taken a look at the woman behind the Kents.

He wanted her to be behind him now. He wanted to taint her light with his dark, he wanted her completely. He wanted to control her in everything. He wanted her to be dependent on him. He would twist her until she would want him with her all the time, ask his permission for anything she wanted to do. She would eventually be his.

He wanted control of her.

He wanted her underneath him, writhing in pleasure – or pain. Either way it didn't matter to him because he would take her either way. Willing or not he would have her, with her red hair spread over the pillows while his hands roamed over her body, taking pleasure where he wanted.

He snapped back to reality when the pressure of his erection strained against his pants. He tried to readjust his sitting position so he would be more comfortable but he knew that he would have to take care of it if he were going to get any sleep later.

He called out to his driver to take him downtown to his girlfriend's house. Maybe girlfriend wasn't the right term because it seemed that all they did was sleep together. What was the term? Oh yeah, fuck buddy. Normally he wouldn't use such vulgar language, but that's exactly what they were. Fuck buddies. It worked out for both of them. Denise didn't expect much other than sex and diamonds, and he enjoyed having a willing partner to go to whenever he pleased.

Inevitably, his thoughts strayed back to the matter of Martha and what he was going to do about her. For some reason he had always felt so at ease around her. She accepted him for what he was, and still found reason to give him at least some compassion. The fact that she was from Metropolis herself, and understood how twisted upper society was, could have helped her to understand him. That's exactly what he so desperately craved. He had almost pleaded with her earlier at the church when he so recklessly threw himself at her. He knew that she had seen it in his eyes, and he was about to ask her for her understanding. But then her eyes hardened and he knew that he still had work to do.

He had offered her the chance to marry him instead of his father. Too bad she turned him down cold. It stung and he remembered the anger he had felt when she had so quickly, and disgustedly, threw it back in his face. She would pay for that insult, and he would enjoy making her ante up.

The limo slowed to a complete stop and he looked out the window and saw that they were already at Denise's apartment complex. It was a good thing too, because he needed to get rid of this damn erection. He told his driver to stay parked there.

"This won't take long."