Chapter 39
The apartment glowed in soft neon shades that spilled through the windows from the outside of the Talon. Clark's heavy, rhythmic breathing was the only sound breaking the stillness of the room. The sleeping pills quickly worked their magic on Clark and soon he was enveloped under the thick cloak of sleep and dreams. He dreamt again of Lois—as he often did. In dreams he could be all the things to her that she deserved, and she could be all things to him that he desired. He lay on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow adjacent to him, a contented smile played on his lips.
He dreamt of their last fight and what had led up to it. He'd gone into "their" room to comfort her and one thing had quickly led to another. He wanted her so much--he ached for her touch. He savored his dreams as things always went the way he wished they could be. In his dreams, he wouldn't leave Lois alone. He replayed the scene in his mind, on an endless loop, each rerun picking out new details, merging with his memories. Her perfume, an exotic mix of spices and sweetness wafted up and captured his senses. He was dimly aware that this dream was much more tactile than most dreams he had had about Lois. His mind reasoned that it must be the sleeping pills that were causing such tangible sensations.
Lois quietly entered the bedroom, undressing swiftly, climbing silently into the bed beside him. She nestled against him, and he unconsciously pulled her tighter to him. She dropped feather-light kisses on his chest, blazing a fiery trail up his throat, to the tender spot beneath his ear.
He freed his other hand from beneath the pillow and wrapped his arm around her, imprisoning her, pressing his lips against hers in a blistering kiss. His hands explored her supple body, stroking her bare, petal-soft skin. He kneaded her full breast with his right hand and grazed one of the stiff peaks with his thumb. She moaned and ground her hips against him.
Lois pushed him over onto his back, returning his rapturous kisses, her fingers tracing slow, seductive circles around his nipples, her hair draping over his chest and shoulders like a satin curtain. Her hands boldly traced the contours of his chiseled abdomen, caressing his well-defined hips and torso. He caught her hands to stop their southward decent.
"Don't you want me to touch you?" Her whispered words seemed to singe his skin.
"Mmmm, yes. Yes. Want you . . . need you to slow down." He rumbled thickly against the sensitive skin of her throat. "Want to make sure you're ready for me."
He drew her against his body, and captured her lips with his in a kiss that echoed her own need, his tongue tracing the camber of her mouth. His lips continued their ardent attack on her throat and breasts. He rolled her onto her back. His mouth teased first one nipple then the other, closing tightly around it, seizing hard until Lois was gasping and writhing in ecstasy. She arched into him, clutching at him, burying her face against his neck, sobbing with pleasure.
Lois trembled with need. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once; gliding over her belly and hips, worshipping her skin, traveling southward to her downy triangle. His fingers and thumb stroked at her tender folds, causing her to shudder and quiver as his fingers found entrance and slipped deep inside her wet warmth, fondling her, preparing the way for his passionate assault. She rocked against him, desperate to quell her mounting need.
"Please, Smallville, . . . don't make me beg . . . need you."
Her pleading broke down the last barrier in his mind. Just when she thought she might combust with the fire that burned inside her, Clark parted her thighs and moved into position over her with the agility and grace of a panther. His large hands slid over her shoulders and down her back, clasping her, lifting her hips to receive him. She felt his hot hardness hovering at her entrance. She was ready for him—her passage pulsing from their love play. She sheathed his engorged shaft in one fluid thrust. He plunged into her again in another poetically liquid motion. She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him even deeper into her slick, velvety depths. Deftly, he circled his hips against her, his lust and ardor increased by the soft moans and her musky scent floating on the air. She matched him thrust for thrust as he continued to stab her again and again and again in a punishing tempo.
Quick, piercing stabs of ecstasy wrenched Lois's body as she moved with him, mindlessly seeking the summit she so desperately craved. "Clark" she whispered, stoking the fire racing through his veins. The pulsing deep in her core suddenly exploded and racked her body with a flood of sensation, sending wave after wave of bliss crashing and breaking over her.
Her spasms clasped him, clenching and grasping his engorged shaft. Clark's breathing was erratic, his heart thundering as he drove into her in deep, unrelenting strokes. Pushed to the brink of his control, his body quaking with is own need, he climaxed with a feral growl.
He held her close and kissed her, listening and waiting for the staccato of her heart to return to normal. He threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her eyelids and cheeks tenderly, catching a single tear on his lips as it silently slid down her cheek.
"Honey, did I hurt you?" His lips brushed her ear, the words tickling her glistening skin.
"No."
"Then why are there tears?"
"I love you." It was barely a whisper, but he heard her clearly. "And I'm afraid I've done something that will make it impossible for you to love me."
"Lois, that will never happen. I couldn't stop loving you if I tried."
"I'm going to hold you to that."
"Is that a promise?"
"It's a threat."
He chuckled softly and kissed her again. He collapsed next to her, pulling her over on top of him, hugging her close to him, reveling in the feel of her. Completely spent, they drifted asleep, wrapped in one another's embrace, as the rain continued to pour outside.
The storm that had pummeled Smallville for the past few days finally let up. Daylight streamed uncertainly through the high windows of Chloe's' apartment, casting lazy shadows across the bedroom. Clark stirred slowly out of his drug-induced slumber. He felt something warm and soft snuggled against him. I must still be dreaming—those sleeping pills are really something.
"Morning Smallville."
His eyes snapped open and he found himself staring into the eyes of the object of the previous nights' fantasy.
"Lois?" He bolted upright as realization hit him.
"Oh my God! Lois, did we . . ."
"Did we what?"
"Did we . . . y'know. . . were we . . .?
"Were we what, Clark?" She knew what he was asking, but she was enjoying his discomfort. It reminded her of when she'd asked him the same thing after Valentines' Day. He had told her they hadn't been intimate, so that she wouldn't be embarrassed. Payback is so much fun.
He raked his hand through his hair and jumped out of bed, only to discover that he was naked, confirming his fears. He pulled a sheet around his waist and sat on the edge of the bed, hanging his head in his hands. How will I ever be able to make this right?
Lois reached over and stroked his back.
"Clark."
He jumped at her touch as if scalded.
"Lois, I'm sorry--so
very sorry." He was dressed and out the door before she could stop
him.
p
him.
