She was lying sprawled across a large rustic table. In a bikini. Her skin was dappled by flickering patterns of light and dark. The light coming through the large window filtered by the shifting leaves on the trees.
Where the hell were they?
Most of the room was lost except the girl, the table, and the light.
She was on her back with her head rolled to the side towards him. From here, she was in beautiful profile. Her stomach flat, but her hips, thighs, and breasts beautifully rounded and full. It was the kind of figure that made a man's hands itch to caress each dip and curve.
The bikini was black with white polka dots. He was riveted by the bright red bows on her hip and at the join of the top and strap.
He had no idea why she was wearing a bikini as she stretched out atop a table, but he was fascinated watching her lay there.
Her one hand rested quietly on her stomach, but the other teased her curly blonde hair.
Curls today, huh?
He paused at the thought, sensing another clue.
Then she smiled, and he pushed the thought aside for later.
For now, his mouth went dry, then wet.
He suddenly and desperately wanted to taste her...
"You said you wanted to eat in tonight..." she teased, still playing with her hair and smiling at him.
He remembered the next part - "I was referring to dinner."
She smiled wider. "Me too."
He was surprised by his own laughter. He almost never laughed. Laughter only happened when something caught you by surprise.
He tried not to let that happen.
Apparently it happened with her.
He moved around the end of the table. She rolled her head to follow him when he reached her feet.
He grasped a calf in each hand and pulled.
She squeaked in an undignified way as she slid along the tabletop.
He slid his hands up to her knees and pried her legs apart.
He watched her to see if she would protest.
She didn't say a word. Her chest was heaving with excitement, a bright necklace flashing with each fast rise of her breath.
For a reason he couldn't explain that necklace bothered him, but he pushed the thought away.
He leaned over her on the table and planted a dry kiss just below her navel. Then he circled the hollow with his tongue, dipping it in just to hear her shriek in tickly protest. Her hands pushed at his bare head, trying to force him and the tickley feeling away. He chuckled, but shifted to kissing a train down her stomach to the line of her bikini bottom. Her grasp shifted from pushing to pulling as he ran his lips over the skin just above the fabric.
He skimmed his lips down over the fabric where it covered the core of her.
But he didn't touch her. He passed by and made his way to one of her curvy thighs over her protests. Kissing the pale skin, his hand skimmed down her leg to grasp the ankle. He drew the leg up until it rested against his shoulder, pointing straight up.
Her breaths were coming fast now. He skimmed his lips across the quivering thigh one last time and over the bikini bottom once more, before moving to the other thigh.
She whimpered in frustration, but he ignored it, concentrating on kissing down her thigh again. As he had done with the first leg, his hand drifted down and found the ankle. She sensed he planned to match this leg to the first and tried to put her leg on his shoulder. He held her ankle firmly, restraining her. Only letting it straighten and rest with the first on his timetable.
His kissed the calves resting on each shoulder as he lightly grasped her ankles. With aching slowness he let his hands slide down the length of her lovely, curvy legs and down to her hips with those delightful red bows. Even though the bows were strictly decorative, he grinned as he untied each one. Her hips came off the table in her impatience. He smiled with satisfaction as he hooked his fingers through the sides of the bikini bottom and began to draw it down from her hips. When the swatch of skin showed, he leaned forward to plant a kiss there quickly. He was gone before she could grasp and hold him in place. He continued to draw the bikini bottom off her, but now he was pulling it up, over the legs still resting on his shoulders. He had to adjust position slightly from his shoulder to get them off her ankles, but once free of the black and white fabric, he put her legs back. She was trying to shift her legs from his shoulders, but he held them firmly in place.
"Lex..." she complained, shifting on her back.
"You have such lovely breasts. Show them to me," he told her.
Without hesitation, she leaned forward slightly, twisting her arms behind her back to reach the closure for the bikini top. With a pop, the top went loose and she quickly stripped it off.
He hadn't been lying. She really did have lovely breasts.
He began to draw small circles around the ankle bones of her legs where they rested on his shoulders.
"Touch them for me."
She began to draw small circles, mimicking his motion on her ankles.
Ah, she is a smart one, isn't she?
He moved his hands to a deeper massage of her calves. Her hands moved in greater, firmer circles, working her breasts. As he applied more pressure, moving down her legs, he saw her actions shift from just mimicry of what he did to something she was enjoying in and of itself. She was now massaging and pulling at her breasts just for the sensation and not at his direction.
When she was lost to it, he sharply pulled her legs from his shoulders and pressed them flat to the table, exposing her completely.
Her breath caught at the sudden change of position. She looked up at him wide-eyed.
He held her gaze, searching. He wanted to see her recognize her vulnerability. He wanted her to know she was at his mercy. He wanted her to know HE was the one in power here.
He expected to see a trace of fear at her exposed state.
That isn't what he saw in her eyes. Desire, definitely. Certainly need. But not...surrender.
Instead, she just seemed to be...waiting.
That wasn't right. Even the women he f***ed feared him.
Why didn't she?
Even more important...why didn't he want her to?
He held her gaze as he loomed over her, slowly lowering his head to her shaking center.
Was he a different man then? Was the Lex Luthor that had known this woman different from the one he was now? If so, how had he lost her?
God, that taste of her was exquisite. Her hips left the table with the intensity of the rush he gave her. He shifted to pin her hips down and her legs open with his elbows on her thighs.
A cold thought invaded the hot memory.
Was she dead?
Was this woman that shook before him...Dead?
The memory froze like he had hit the Pause button on a DVD.
A trickle came through his consciousness...No...
The memory resumed. Her head was rolling from side to side as she cried out in pleasure. Her hands now scrabbled at his bald head, trying to get more, More, MORE from him.
God, she was so responsive.
So if she wasn't dead where was she? How had she slipped away from him?
She was screaming and her legs were shaking under his securing arms as the orgasm ripped through her.
Tonight's blonde also had green eyes, but they were surprisingly hard. She was more predatory than most. He saw her adding up the cost of everything in the loft the moment she came in the door.
This one will expect a present for services rendered. That wasn't unusual, but he didn't encourage it. He would sometimes give the women that accompanied him to his various functions gifts, but not his one-night stands.
Besides, tonight, she - he thought her name was Lola - would be the lucky one.
He was going to dive head-first into her and wouldn't come up for air until she too forgot her own name.
He was back in the tiny apartment with her.
He indicated a designer labeled gift bag with pink tissue decoratively peeping from the top.
She looked at him in consternation. "Lex, you have to stop buying me things."
He just shrugged. He was rich, people expected him to buy them things even when they said not to.
Almost as if she read his mind, she said. "I mean it. Stop trying to buy me."
He almost believed she meant it, but he didn't deny her accusation. He bought people. It was what he did. So instead he changed tactics.
"This one is for me as much as you."
Her expression shifted from stern accusation to curiosity. She moved to the bag and began removing the tissue.
She pulled out the black and gold lingerie. It was a corset style, but instead of ribbon ties, it had gold rings and open sides. The crotch was open, but fastened by more rings.
Chloe looked at the five-thousand dollar construction with pure horror.
Not the reaction he had been going for.
Holding the black and gold corset aloft, she cocked an eyebrow at him. "You must be joking."
"What? It's the hottest trend right now."
"Does that matter?"
"Of course."
"Why?"
"Because Lex Luthor only buys the best."
Her face suffused with anger. "Not everything is about what you can buy, Lex! I'm not one of your floozies! Stop trying to make me one!"
He surged to his feet, his anger rising to meet hers. Her jewelry box must hold $50k in jewelry by now, but she never wore any of it. Frankly, it ticked him off. He dropped his money to buy people that he could never respect every day. Why was it that the people he did respect spurned his money? How the f*** do you manage them if not by money?
"Then tell me, what are you?"
His yelled question shocked her. Her mouth worked like she was starting to answer, but then decided against her words. Finally she threw up her hands in defeat. "I don't know." Her arms dropped to her side, one hand still clutching the corset. She looked down at it in her hand, before raising it up by two fingers like it was something questionable and possibly vile. "But this? This isn't it." She threw the corset towards the gift bag and walked away.
"Where the f*** do you think you're going? " he shouted after her.
"To find myself."
He woke up utterly confused and distinctly ticked off.
What the hell was that?
It was completely unlike the heated dreams that he normally had of her.
In a fit of anger he tossed aside the covers and stalked from the bed.
The hard-eyed blonde of earlier tonight didn't stir. He'd utterly exhausted her. She hadn't wanted to orgasm for him, which made him even more determined. He retaliated by making her orgasm for hours.
Lex Luthor didn't lose battles. Even ones here.
So why did he feel like he was on the losing end of a battle with the memory woman?
He couldn't pit himself back against Her, so he would fight back the only way he could.
He marched to the hidden wall safe and spun in the combination. Inside rested a blue velvet box. The cascading diamond necklace inside was intended for Odette, his date for the symphony on Saturday. He removed it from the box and made his way back to the blonde in his bed. He draped the necklace over her exposed collarbones where she slept. She woke instantly as the cool metal and gems touched her flesh. Her hand snapped up to rest on the necklace at her throat. Her eyes were still hard as she pulled it away from her skin and held it up for inspection.
When she saw the extraordinary scale and quality of the piece, her eyes lost their hardness and met his in shock.
He smiled without humor. This one understood what the necklace was worth.
Her eyes turned calculating as she clasped the necklace on. When she pushed him back onto the bed, he also knew this one at least understood what was the appropriate return for such a gift.
He would let her thank him...repeatedly.
"Oh." Her voice held no joy. "Thank you, Lex. It is very... pretty," the memory girl told him as he let Lola stroke his body to life.
Pretty? He thought in confusion for a moment, before realizing he had slipped into another memory.
He saw it now, the ten-thousand-dollar necklace he had given her. The ruby was flawless, circled by twinkling diamonds. It was way more than pretty.
"You don't like it," he'd said to her flatly.
"No, it's just... I don't need... things."
What the hell did that mean? You bought women gifts. It was part of the expectations. It was how you set...boundaries.
Why didn't she understand that?
He cut off the ungrateful memory, and focused on the comprehending girl before him.
Dammit! He would be properly thanked this time.
He knew that for all the vigor she displayed, Lola didn't enjoy what she did for him at all.
He decided to bask in her hatred instead. He made a point of taking her in ways he thought she would hate, but would pretend to enjoy.
She wanted that necklace, and understood this to be the cost.
It was a perfect tit-for-tat.
When hard-eyed Lola left with the sparkling necklace around her throat, Lex considered it a well-done transaction.
That was how it was supposed to happen.
You presented a gift to set the boundaries.
You do not humor Lex Luthor when he gives a gift.
That implies that he wasn't the one with the power.
He was always the one with the power.
Even with Her.
He had guessed for some time that the flashes, or memories, or whatever-the-fuck-they-were had no time order. The events were too disparate to be chronological. He was almost shocked from his slumber when his dream that night was directly connected to a previous sending.
"Where the f*** do you think you're going?" he shouted after her.
"To find myself."
He stopped. What the f*** did that mean? Throwing his hands in the air, he gave up. He went over to the corset and put it inside the bag. He picked up his coat and had just turned the knob when he heard her accusing voice behind him.
"Where the hell are you going?"
He turned toward her, "Look, obviously..."
His words trailed off when he saw her.
She was wearing a red lace babydoll. The top had her fantastic breasts pushed up and overflowing. The floaty lace hem danced around the tops of her thighs, playing peekaboo with a matching lace panty underneath.
She looked amazing.
She looked like herself.
He hated being wrong, hating being one-upped.
But he loved the way she looked in that red lace babydoll.
He let the door fall shut as his fingers left the knob.
Finally he answered her question. "Nowhere."
The dream of the night before left him confused.
It felt like he backed down, something he normally didn't do.
But unlike the first flash, he didn't feel like he had lost.
Was he p***y-whipped by a fantasy?
No.
She was real.
She had to be real.
He needed to find proof.
Because if could prove she was real, he could discover what this power she still held over him was.
