Title: Breaking Chloe Sullivan

Summary: Her strength is intriguing him, her fire captivating him, but can she survive his interest? Lex decides it's time to find out, what exactly will it take to break Chloe Sullivan?

Shipping: Chlark Chlex mostly Chlark

Major Characters: Chloe Clark Lex

Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since I posted! I'll be trying to be more regular about it!

Reviews: Thank you so much! Please keep 'em coming!

Previously:

Chloe

"Cl-ark," she said, her voice breaking as her heart did the same. It was composed of glass shards carefully glued together along the cracks, and now it broke open, the very thing she had been trying to prevent for so long… No. Not again. She would not jump at her own shadow anymore. She would not drink herself into oblivion to forget something she never would… Chloe gathered pieces of steel from where Clark had carelessly scattered them, and she braced her spine with some and others she placed around her heart, and when she was done Chloe was Lois again… Lois didn't need anyone… There were other ways to get what she wanted, and she would exhaust all of them until she got what she wanted, until she found out what Lex was doing, what he had done… And until she found out what the hell it had to do with her.

Clark

Lex smirked at him, "Am I Clark? Think about it. Does she seem different to you? Not the sunshine girl you used to know? Admit it to yourself. You never really knew her, and now she's a complete stranger. You're trying to hang onto something that was never really there in the first place."

Clark was shaking his head, at a loss for words, hating himself for believing Lex's words for even the smallest amount of time. "You're wrong!" he said, his voice stronger now.

He turned and started to leave the room, stopping with his hand on the door handle. "And if you ever go near Chloe again Lex, I will kill you."

And with his parting threat, Clark stormed out of Lex's office and out of the building, determined to follow through on what he had said. Whatever it was that Lex had done, whatever it was that he was up to, Clark was going to find out. I'm going to stop you Lex.

Lex

No matter, she would come back to him soon enough. Every trail she was investigating led to him, all the answers she wanted were with him. Tonight they were beginning the first experiment. Lex didn't dare hope that it would work on the first try, but he was excited for it nonetheless. If they could get this to work, when they could get this to work, it could change the world.

He was going to change the world.

Ch. 21 Forced

Chloe was driving back to her apartment when her phone rang. She checked the caller ID, saw it was Clark, and ignored it. She didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to hear him apologize, hear the pity in his voice. Because it would be him saying sorry, and he would truly be sorry, but not just for what he did, he would be sorry for her, because of what she did, and he would expect an apology.

And she wasn't going to give him one.

If she ever apologized to anyone for what she did with Lex, it would be herself. And still, she couldn't even bring herself to do that. She was on the edge of regret but her pride kept her from falling, she held her chin high in the face of her mistakes. Memories of them together, of his smile, the feel of his hands, the taste of his kiss, the look in his eyes, made it impossible for her to wish all of it had never happened. And she was definitely not going to say sorry to Clark for it, it was none of his business, she wasn't his business. He had no right to react that way.

She'd known all along he would though, it's why she had been keeping it from him. Chloe didn't know what it was exactly that had split the two up, but working with Clark, she'd picked up on the fact that he loathed Lex now.

Best friends turned worst enemies. The world was full of things that turned out that way, flowers that died, marriages that were ripped apart, lives that were taken away, hearts that were shattered.

Her phone rang again and again it was Clark. Again she ignored it. Hopefully eventually he would get the picture and stop calling. God he would probably show up at her apartment. For about ten minutes Chloe seriously debated about not going back, about just getting a hotel room for the night. But was she really that scared of Clark? No, not scared really. Yes you are. She didn't want to talk to him, but sooner or later she would have to.

How would they even begin the conversation? Would he lead with an apology? Knowing Clark, 'I'm sorry,' would be the first thing out of his mouth. And she would want to slap him for it, because he had been honest, he had reacted in a way that reflected his feelings. He shouldn't have to apologize for it.

Her phone rang again and again it was Clark, this time she turned it off.

She wasn't sure if she wanted him to apologize or not. She didn't want him to be sorry that he had wanted her, that for those few, short, blissful moments, he had wanted her. It had been perfect, his hands molding her body to his, his mouth tasting hers, his warm, strong frame overtaking hers. She had loved every second of it, every delicious, precious second. And then it had been over, all too quickly, and she hated herself for loving it, for needing it, for wanting that feeling back.

Chloe ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. Buck up Sullivan. No, no, that's not right. Buck up Lane. Her name was Lois Lane, she was a famous, kick ass reporter, and she was not going to let some farmboy ruin everything she had worked so hard for. Even if his eyes were so blue she felt like she was falling into the sky every time she looked at him… Get a grip.

When she got back to the apartment, she shoved some more steel into her spine, iced her heart just a bit more, and then she opened the door, knowing he would be there. Why on earth did I give him that key?

"Chloe!" Sure enough he was pacing the kitchen, his expression frantic as he saw her. "Oh my God Chloe where have you been? I've been trying to call you for an hour!"

Chloe tossed her purse down on the counter, made sure her voice was cold as she said, "What are you doing here Clark?"

He stopped, standing behind her, she could feel him there. "I found something out Chloe."

"What are you talking about?"

"About what happened to you. Chloe," he said, and she gritted her teeth, knowing if he said her name one more time she was going to snap, "I found out who it was."

The silence stretched between them, but she was not going to face him, could not look him in the eye, not right now. She felt him shifting, felt him reach out, and she steeled herself against his touch, but it never came, and she was equal parts happy and sad that it didn't.

"Chloe…?"

"Spit it out Clark!" she said, her fingers closing around the edges of the counter in a white-knuckled grip. She could feel it biting into the soft flesh on her palms but she wanted the pain, it gave her something to focus on.

"It was Lex."

She whirled around to face him, "What?"

"It was Lex," he repeated.

"I heard you Clark, now what the hell are you talking about!"

"I went to the bar Chloe."

She felt all the color drain from her face, heard her heart pound in her ears, and she felt him, crawling up her spine, slimy and dirty and sick. Her stomach rolled over and she swallowed hard to keep from throwing up. "What?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"The bar? Where you went the night you disappeared?"

"You went there asking questions about me?" Please say no.

"Yeah."

"Oh my God," she breathed, feeling darkness close in around her as her mind took her back to the night when he'd first made the rules clear. It had been so long ago, she'd been working as a waitress for a few weeks, she'd finally managed to find somewhere to live that didn't involve sneaking in somewhere after closing. The apartment was grungy and small but it was a place to live.

Last night she'd gone to an internet café, gotten on a computer for the first time since she'd woken up in that alley. God she had missed this. The feel of the keys under her fingers, the way she could navigate this online world so easily. It was like coming home. These puzzles she knew how to solve. And she would begin by trying to find out what had happened to her. She'd searched news papers and the bar and the people whose names she knew for a few hours but to no avail. Tomorrow she'd go back and try again, it wasn't in her personality to give up.

She'd just gotten home from work, had taken off her coat, a gift from the owner of the restaurant, and thrown it on the bed. She hadn't turned on the lights yet.

And then she was being grabbed from behind and shoved on the bed and she cried out in surprise and fear. She couldn't even get a grasp of what was happening before a body was on top of hers, crushing all the breath from her lungs. Desperately she tried to fight back, but she wasn't strong enough.

"Hi there sweetheart." His voice sent lightning bolts of fear shooting through her body, and she smelled alcohol on his breath as he whispered in her ear and cigarette smoke on his clothes. Then his weight was gone and she thrashed, trying to get up but unable to get a grip on anything, to find purchase or support on the surface of the bed.

She felt his hands on her and desperately she kicked back at him, felt her foot connect with something solid and heard him grunt. But his fingers wrapped around her ankles and pulled her back to him, and he was laughing. "I see I've got myself a fighter."

He flipped her over on her back, and she struck at him with her arms, moved her body frantically, kicking her legs and thrashing from side to side. But he just laughed, he laughed as her fists connected with his body. "Come on baby, fight! Oh, that feels good, hit me again."

"Get off!" she screamed.

Grabbing her wrists in a bruising grip, he leered down at her, his teeth glowing in the darkness, "Oh sweetheart, trust me, I will."

Fear and revulsion knifed through her as he leaned in and ran his tongue up the length of her neck. She struggled harder, screaming as she felt his lips on her ear. "That's what I like to hear," he said, a smile in his voice. It crawled over her skin like cockroaches and she felt bile rise in her throat.

"Now," he said, his tone businesslike, "let's get you all fixed up," taking her and pulling and pushing her farther onto the bed. She pushed at him, tried in vain to get him off of her. The lights had been off when she came in, she hadn't bothered to turn them on, and now she saw and felt what she hadn't seen in the darkness. Ropes, of what felt like velvet, were tied to her bedposts, and he was tying them around her wrists.

He pinned her body down with his weight, his knees pushing down on her chest until she thought she might pass out. Her struggles weakened and black spots danced across her vision. When the pressure let up she pulled but both her wrists were tied tight.

Fear squeezed her heart with icy cold fingers, and Chloe felt tears begin to fall. "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry." He bent down over her and kissed her tears, licking his lips as he pulled away. "Mmm, baby you taste so good."

Chloe heard herself whimper and she bit down on her tongue, determined to stop acting like a scared little girl. She screwed her eyes shut as she felt him begin to unbutton her shirt, her legs hopelessly pinned beneath him as he straddled her body.

"Sweetheart look at me." His voice was soft, prodding, his hands gentle as they ran over her stomach. Chloe refused, her body shaking, and tears still leaking from the corners of her eyes. "Look at me," he said again, this time she felt his tongue, slimy and thick, on her lips. Her eyes flew open and she bit down on his tongue hard, tasting the copper of his blood in her mouth.

He pulled back and she flinched, expecting him to hit her, and when the blow didn't come she opened her eyes, found him grinning down at her. "I can bite too."

He slowly pushed up her bra, smirking at her all the while, and she felt his teeth on her skin and choked back a sob that threatened to break free. She would not give this man what he wanted. She felt the tears still coursing down her face, cold as they pooled in her ears, wet on her hair.

"So," he said, sitting up, sliding down a ways until he was resting on her knees. Chloe felt pain shoot up her legs and gritted her teeth against the cry building in her throat. "I'm here for a reason sweetheart." His fingers unbuttoned her pants, unzipped them. "I'm here to teach you a lesson."

God all she wanted was to block out his voice but she couldn't. She tried to take her mind to another place but all she could think about was the feel of his hands on her legs as he took her pants off. Again she tried to kick at him and again he subdued her with pleasure, all of it a game to him, a sick game that he liked to play.

Gently, so gently, his rough hands explored her, and Chloe's body flinched away from him as much it could, her very skin attempting to sink inside itself to avoid his touch. "Now, sweetheart, I gotta make sure you remember this lesson, it's very important."

He reached down and gripped her underwear in his filthy fingers, ripping the flimsy fabric off of her body in one swift motion. Leaning down over her, he licked the curve of her ear, speaking softly, "You need to stop looking, you don't need to know what happened to you. The past is the past, leave it alone sweetheart."

She felt his hand between her legs and tried to wrench herself away from him but she couldn't move. "Scream for me," he said, but she refused. And then his fingers drove his message home, as he said it, again, and again, and again, "Stop looking."

When he stopped, she lay trembling on the bed, and she prayed to God he was done now. And, as if he read her thoughts, he smiled and said, "Don't worry baby, I'm not done yet, I've got to pound this lesson into you, gotta make sure you don't forget."

Slowly, Chloe came back to the present, shaking so bad she thought she'd fall apart. She hadn't forgotten. A few weeks after that, out of spite, and wanting to prove she still had a spine, Chloe tried again to find a clue about the things she couldn't remember. And he'd come back. The next year she'd done it again. And again he'd come back.

Each time it had left her feeling dirtier, a kind of disgusting that she couldn't get rid of, no matter how long she scrubbed her skin or how hot the water was. She carried two flashlights with her, went the long way home from work to avoid dark alleyways, and kept every light in her place on all the time. Every time she smelled a cigarette she cringed.

And she'd never looked again, deciding to forget her past and live for her future, the future and the life she was working so hard to build for herself. Until Clark had pushed and pulled and torn a hole through her protection, shattered what she'd had, reminded her of what she'd left behind as he forced his way back into her life.

She glanced to her left, saw the wall he'd pushed her up against when he'd come back to remind her why she'd stopped looking. Shuddering, she felt his mouth on her skin, felt him on top of her, inside her.

Then she saw Clark in front of her, felt his hands on her shoulders, looked into his worried eyes.

"Chloe, are you okay?"

And she felt it, anger, born from everything he'd taken from her, everything she'd ever given him, from the rejection and the ignorance, from his self righteousness and his naivety, from his wanting to know her secrets without ever telling her his, from the love she had never wanted to feel and the disgust on his face when he'd found out about Lex, she felt it burning through her veins and heard it burst from her mouth in explosive fury.

"Get the fuck out Clark!"

Her scream stunned him, hit him with a force that made him stumble back a step. She was glaring at him with hard, burning eyes, her fists clenched at her sides as if she was trying not to physically assault him. What had happened? They'd just been talking about what he'd found out and then she'd zoned out for a minute, gone white as a sheet, and now she's mad?

"Chloe what-"

"Get out Clark!" She was shaking she was so angry at him.

"What did I do?"

"Just leave!"

He took a step towards her, she always did this, refused to tell him what was wrong. "Chloe tell me what I did! Why are you mad?"

"It's none of your business Clark, get out!"

"You're mad at me Chloe! Tell me why!"

She walked away from him, and he felt anger rush up inside him. He grabbed her arm and spun her around back towards him, "I'm not leaving until you tell me!"

"Get your hands off me!"

"Chloe what did I do?"

"Clark! You're hurting me!"

Immediately Clark released her, ashamed and hating himself for losing control like that. "I'm sorry," he said softly, watching as she rubbed her arm where he'd had his fingers locked around it.

"Yeah Clark you're always sorry," she replied, bitterness dripping from every syllable.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Clark met her eyes as she looked up at him, "It's just a fact."

She tried to turn away from him and again he reached out and pulled her back, holding up both hands in defense and apology when she glared at him. "What do you mean?"

"You always say you're sorry Clark, for everything, every damn thing. But sometimes you shouldn't be sorry, sometimes you never should have done the thing you say you're sorry for. But you do it again and again!"

He saw her eyes gloss over and felt his heart twist, but he stopped himself from reaching out to her, knowing that wasn't what she wanted. "Chloe… what are you talking about?" He knew he said sorry a lot but she seemed like she was focused in on something very specific and he wanted to know what it was.

"Nothing," she said dismissively, looking away from him.

"Chloe come on! How can I fix it if you won't tell me what it is?"

"Just leave." Her voice was tired, her body slumping as if she wanted to collapse to the floor.

He stood there for a minute, letting silence overtake them. Part of him said that he should honor her request for once and leave, but part of him wanted to find out what she meant. There was obviously something wrong, he wanted to help. He hated seeing her like this. His eyes studied her, the tired slope of her shoulders, the exhausted hollows beneath her eyes, the downward curve of her mouth.

Whatever it was, it was wearing on her. He felt the protective urge to wrap his arms around her, give her comfort and strength. If she would only tell him… He closed his eyes, and then he saw Lex, heard his voice saying, "She belongs with me."

And it was just this onslaught of pictures of Lex and Chloe together. He couldn't take it, it should be him with Chloe. He should be the one protecting her, the one she runs to, the one she needs. He should be the one she wants to be with.

It should be me.

"Why?" he said suddenly, breaking the stillness.

"What?"

"Why do you want me to leave?"

He watched as she closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, trying to formulate an answer. It made him angry, and he knew it was probably irrational and useless but he couldn't help it. "Because-"

"So you can call him?"

Her eyes shot to his, her features suddenly sharper. "What?"

"You want me to leave so he can come over here?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Lex," he spat at her.

He watched her expression go from confusion to cold and hard, defensive. "Come on Chloe, the cat's out of the bag now, feel free to open up and share."

"Stop it."

"No really Chloe, what are friends for, tell me all about it. When did you first start to see him again?"

She looked up at him, small and fragile, but he couldn't seem to stem the flow of hurtful words gushing out of his mouth. "Tell me Chloe! Why him! Is he really that good?"

"Stop it," she said again, her voice barely audible, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"When was the first time you slept with him? It's okay you can tell me, I want to know. What is it that you see in him Chloe? Is it all the deaths he's responsible for?"

"Clark please…" her voice broke as she said his name but he couldn't stop.

"Is it all the pain he's caused?"

Clark felt a knot in his throat and he swallowed it back, "Oh, wait, let me guess, he really loves you right?"

"Stop," she begged, a solitary tear trailing down her cheek.

His face contorted with pain because he had hurt her, and Clark felt the anger fade as he reached out, placed his hand on her cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. She closed her eyes, leaning into his hand and he was transported back in time, to what felt like a million years ago, when things hadn't been so messed up. When she had been his pretty blonde best friend, when she had needed him.

Another stab of guilt, he'd been there when her dad died but what about after? Why had he been so blind? She had needed him, she'd been drowning and he hadn't noticed. Now she'd been treading water by herself for so long, she didn't want to accept his help.

Her skin was so soft beneath his fingers, her face pale, delicate. He pulled her into him, and she did not fight it. His arms wrapping around her was an act so familiar he felt like he'd been born to do it, to hold her like this, close and safe.

Clark felt her arms encircle his waist and he tightened his hold. He felt all the tension and resistance leave her body, felt her sink into him, coming back to a place he felt she belonged.

Why'd you hurt her that way Clark?

Because he was mad. He was so mad. But at who exactly? At Chloe for sleeping with Lex? Or because she refused to tell him what it was that woke her up screaming? He was mad at Lex. For taking advantage of Chloe, for whatever it was that he'd done to her all those years ago.

But mostly, he was mad at himself. For not noticing what she'd been going through when they were kids, for not being there when she needed him the most. For using her as an advice column, a source of knowledge and help, the one person he knew would never say no when he needed her. He was so angry with himself for not stopping all of these horrible things from happening to her.

Clark pressed his lips to the top of her hair and inhaled her strawberry shampoo and her warmth and just… her. I'm so sorry Chloe. He didn't say it out loud, but his soul was screaming it as loud as he could. He pulled back and held her face between his hands, searching her eyes for forgiveness.

It was there, although he hadn't voiced his plea out loud, along with something else, burning soft but hot, an ember that he'd seen before, but ignored, or hadn't wanted to see. Now it pierced him, through his skin and his flesh, and it started a reaction inside of him.

I'm sorry. He was so sorry, for not seeing what had been in front of him all along.

And then something inside of him broke open, overflowed, emotion that was overpowering, overwhelming and all consuming.

He brought his mouth down on hers, kissing her deep and tasting her pain and feeling her fear. Reaching down, he gripped her waist, trying to mold her to him, trying to make her understand she belonged here, she belonged with him.

Wrapping his arms around her, he picked her up, light as a feather and just as soft, and he set her down on the counter. His fingers dug into her thighs as he pulled them around his waist. His mouth devoured hers like a drowning man gasped in air, and he felt her hands fisting in his hair, felt her body against his.

His hands grabbed at her, his movements fraught with urgency, roaming over her back, under her shirt, around to her stomach and repeating the process. He wanted to feel every part of her at once, wanted to taste all of her at once, his head was swimming and he had no thoughts outside of consuming her completely. Desperately he tried to make her understand these feelings bursting out of him, tried to make her realize what he was finally starting to see.

Then he felt her hands on his belt and he pulled back, staring at her as his chest heaved, as he breathed in air filled with the scent of her and of his need. She was looking at him with dark, glossy eyes, her pretty mouth open and her skin flush from his kisses. His fingertips traced the curves of her face, memorizing it by feel like a blind man reading brail as his eyes danced over her features like he was looking at a masterpiece, like the answers to all of life's mysteries resided in her.

And in this moment he didn't care about anything else except the fact that he was here with her.

Lex was back at his penthouse, sitting on his couch drinking brandy, thinking about project Hercules and about Chloe. The two trains of thought were certainly not exclusive to one another. He'd gotten back from the lab an hour ago, and he was more than pleased with the results so far. The first set of subjects would be fully grown tomorrow, and then they could begin testing. All he needed was Chloe with him right now and his life would as near to perfect as it could ever be.

His cell phone rang then, shattering the stillness. Lex rose to his feet and crossed the room to his desk where he'd left his phone. He knew it was irrational but a part of him hoped it would be Chloe. Get a hold of yourself Lex. After checking the number he felt disappointment weigh him down.

"Yes?" he answered curtly.

"Sir, we have another breach."

Lex pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a head ache beginning to take hold. "What happened?"

"Clark Kent was at the bar."

"What!" This was not what he'd been expecting. His grip tightened on the phone, the very mention of Clark's name in connection with Chloe was enough to start his blood boiling in his veins.

"Clark Kent was-"

"I heard you!"

"Your orders, sir?"

Pain began to pound behind his eyes and Lex took a deep breath, deciding what should be done about the matter. It hadn't been Chloe's breach, she hadn't done it. But she didn't stop him. He knew what he had to do, what he'd always done when Chloe had attempted to reach into the past and retrieve facts he couldn't have her finding.

"Sir?"

"I'll take care of it," he said, hanging up the phone.

Lex reached for his glass of brandy and downed the rest of it, going back to where the bottle was and pouring himself more. There was a procedure he had followed for these situations, rules he'd given himself. But this time, this time it was different. This time it hadn't been Chloe digging.

And this time he knew by heart every inch of skin on Chloe's body that would be violated.

Always, he'd simply picked up his phone and made a call, knowing Chloe had to learn that lesson. She'd fought against it for awhile in the beginning, and he'd been both impressed at her strength and stubbornness and frustrated that he had to send in his man again. His man… it felt wrong to call him that, connected him too close to the filth, put him too low. Still, despite his revulsion for the man, he used him.

But now… Now his justifications seemed flimsy and full of holes. What could she possibly do to deserve such treatment? To deserve to have the man from her nightmares rise up once again from the shadows to haunt her waking life as well. Give me a break Lex. She needed to stop looking, especially now. But would this convince Clark to stop looking? Lex knew Chloe hadn't told him about this, about why she feared the dark. Could she get Clark to listen to her without giving him a reason?

It had never been this difficult for him to do what he knew needed to be done. He hadn't foreseen this, her still looking into her past after he had shown her that he was her future. It wasn't right. He had taken her, made her his, forced her to see that she belonged with him. He had convinced her, harshly, brutally, and then softly, lovingly, giving her everything he knew she needed. And she'd broken. He'd taken what he wanted from her until she'd decided to give it. She had broken!

Hadn't she?

He was still debating when his phone rang again. Lex swallowed another gulp of brandy before he looked at the caller. Shit. It was Barnes, the man he had watching the Heath family. What now?

"Yes?"

"Sir we have a problem."

Annoyance flashed across his features at the obvious and unneeded statements issued by the men whose intelligence and skills he was trusting. "I assumed that was why you were calling me, what is it?"

"She was here."

The headache began to pulse harder and Lex drank some more of his favorite pain killer. "What?"

"She left about two hours ago."

"Did she talk to him?"

"Yes sir. He invited her inside. She was in for about twenty minutes and then she came back out in a hurry and left."

"What did he tell her?"

There was a pause and Lex had to restrain himself from yelling, it really didn't suit, didn't promote confidence and control. "Well sir, I'm not exactly sure."

"What!" His control slipped. "You had them under surveillance!" Lex felt anger course through him, and he gripped the phone harder, feeling it dig into his palm.

"The equipment malfunctioned sir, there was interference and I couldn't-"

"So you have no idea if they talked about place settings or the next solar eclipse? Or if possibly he gave her crucial information pertaining to the project I'm working on? Information she could use to try and grind the entire thing to a screaming halt!"

"I'm sorry sir."

Lex hung up the phone, furious at the incompetence of those he had working for him. Chloe had seen James. They had talked, about what he didn't know, but they had talked. He could have told her everything or he could have told her nothing. Either way, Chloe was on a track he couldn't have her pursuing, this had to stop. If she hadn't gotten information from James this time, there was still the possibility that she could get it later.

Dialing back Barnes, he gave the order, "Do it."

Then he went back to the couch, pouring himself another glass. He pushed back the regret and the sadness and the guilt, drowning them under alcohol and logical reasoning that this was the course of action that had to be taken if he was going to accomplish his goals.

Really it was all to protect Chloe. If she found out she would try to stop him, and he couldn't have that. But if he could keep her in the dark there would be no reason to silence her.

He drank again before he called the next number. "I require your services."

"She won't quit will she?" There was glee in his voice and it made Lex feel sick.

"The money will be wired to your account after you call to confirm you've completed the task."

"Thanks Lex, I can't wait to see her again."

Lex hung up the phone and proceeded to pour himself another glass, needing the alcohol to dull his senses, to comfort him when Chloe wasn't here to do it. You had no choice Lex.

No matter how much he drank, Lex could not erase the images of Chloe. He saw that mans disgusting hands on her and it made him sick to his stomach. The pictures of her smiling up at him or looking at him with desire in her eyes were overtaken by scenes of her screaming in agony, terror distorting her lovely features. I'm sorry Chloe, I'm so sorry.

Chloe's fingers played across the top of Clark's jeans in indecision. He was looking at her, and she searched his eyes for answers. She felt the difference in the texture of his belt and his jeans, felt the sharp contrast between his clothes and his skin.

Their eyes danced together as her fingers hooked into his waistband, as she felt heat flow between their bodies, so close to one another. They were on the edge of a precipice, debating linking hands and jumping off together. Chloe wanted to just let go, to give herself to him, but would he accept her if he knew everything?

Emotions raced through her, halting her hands from undoing his belt, staying her mouth from moving to his, keeping her legs from tightening further around him. She was still angry with him for his reaction, mad at herself for what she'd done. She was frustrated with not knowing what had happened to her, having pieces but not being able to connect the puzzle. She felt sorrow, an ever present shadow in her life, but intensified by the things he'd said to her. It wasn't fair, he wasn't being fair, he didn't know.

Then there was the want, hot and thick in her veins. The need, pure and deep, tightened into a knot in her chest. There was so much pain, a needle prick here and there, memories that hurt like knives, or rose beneath the surface of her skin like cold acid that ate away at her.

But when he touched her, fire burned away the acid. When he kissed her, she forgot everything but the feel of his mouth and the taste of his tongue. His arms kept away the shadows and the dark and the memories. His hands changed her into someone else, someone who belonged with him, someone who wasn't broken and used.

She was still searching his eyes for an answer, a sign of what she should do.

And then he made the decision for the both of them.

So? How was that chapter?