Post-Injustice, Chloe takes extreme measures to save Davis from a resurrected Zod's control. Warning: M rating for sexuality.
Heroes were unable to put someone's life before the world. They wouldn't get involved, drag him across the country and away, wouldn't hide underground like rats in a cage, wouldn't enjoy being fucked softly in a tiny cell. Heroes lectured on principles, dressed in bright colors and waited for their enemies to take potshots at them. No wonder Zod almost had the world under his thumb. Locked up with the Ultimate Destroyer, she'd play the cards anyway she needed to keep him. She's stopped wondering if it was stupidity or bravery.
Chloe admitted Davis had her- flat out, on her hands against the wall. His hands were gentle, almost hesitant against her breasts, body firm like when he held her. It had only taken a few words, a glance, a touch that lingered a moment too long to take him. He was painfully gentle, painfully aware of her, struggling with himself, but he was too aroused not to bump against her. She breathed in through her mouth, tried not to gape at his cock nudging against the back of her thigh.
Her skin gave a little, moistened at his gentle drag against her. She felt how hard he was, wondered if that could break her. She tried to twist her head, see his eyes, hot and intent on her face as his fingers smoothed and tingled and stiffened on her nipples. It was as if he was fucking her but softer, dimmer. It wasn't enough for her.
She rammed him inside her, barely aware until he was in deep and his eyes were blinking hard. Her muscles bunched, shifted, every cell of her protested the fullness. Fingers tugged at hers, a plea for permission? Davis was breathing ragged. Chloe could feel her heart slamming against her ribs so loud it had to be deafening him.
As himself Davis would never hurt her. Davis would have been gentle, precisely because that wasn't what he needed, but she clenched and bullied and blinded him. His hips pumped down to hers, faster until her breath choked, slower- only by an increment but she shook in frustration.
She couldn't mouth a single protest that didn't come out a moan. He was rougher then, merciless shoves that shook through his hands on hers, shook against his teeth on her neck. For one sweltering moment, she went blind. The desperate clutching turned to long liquid tugs inside her. She was nearly limp against the wall when she felt him start to come, grasping, feral as an animal. Her head was dizzy and whirling, swamped in painful pleasure. Chloe dug in fingers, tried to keep from sliding down to her knees.
Inside her prickled, acutely sensitive and she twisted, teeth clamped on her lip. She could scream here. Zod wouldn't find Davis, wouldn't use him. The green Kryptonite walls would incapacitate him and Davis was immune.
Davis's shoulders started to shift. He wasn't done yet, and Chloe wondered if the Doomsday part of him needed to make its mate bleed. She'd found Davis after it killed once, blood on his mouth from where Doomsday had dug into some criminals neck. His mouth found her neck, adjusted, and he licked slowly.