SNH4

Chapter Four

Chloe comes to rest beside Clark under the palm tree and puts her hand to Clark's leg, hoping to comfort him, ease his fears. They sit and watch the stars glitter above and listen to the water of the pond slap gently against the shore. Out there, in the desert, the wind kicks up. It's a peaceful night, and it would be perfect if she wasn't so goddamned hungry. She rests her hand on his leg and gives it a squeeze, hoping to comfort him. He's been beating himself up all day over what happened between them that morning, and she knows he has.

"You're one of the most selfless people I've ever met," she tells him.

"Bullshit," he counters. "I'm as selfish as it's possible to be."

The only thing Clark wants is for Chloe to take her hand off his leg because any kind of touch from her makes his heart start to really pump. If Chloe wants to think he's selfless she can, even though he knows it isn't true, but her touch is putting ideas in his head. Ideas he's been having more of since Jor-El sent them out on this weird journey together, thoughts no good, selfless man should have for his best friend. All it does is prove to him he's a selfish bastard only thinking of his own needs and forgetting he's got Lana to think of.

Lana...Does he have her? She lives in Lex's mansion, sharing his bed, sharing her body with a man she doesn't love or want. All Clark's been able to think about is fucking Lana just to spite Lex. He thinks about fucking Chloe just to use her. Selfless. Sure.

Clark can't remember the last time he's been touched while he didn't have his powers up to full. He can fuck Chloe, if that's what she wants, and he wouldn't accidentally hurt her, and they both know it. Maybe that's why she's got her hand on his leg, a little higher up on his thigh, now, forcing the blood through his veins a little faster, forcing him to focus on the fingers that grip him so tight he almost didn't hear Chloe speak again.

"You're are, Clark."

Her voice is so serious it's nearly funny. Clark shakes his head, refusing to look at her like he knows she wants him to. Unfortunately none of it's discouraging her. She knows him too well to be so easily denied what she wants.

"That's why you didn't take advantage of me in the cavern this morning. You didn't want to lead me on, make me stand a chance where there isn't one. I know you love Lana. I know I'm not good enough for a guy like you. I'm all brains, no beauty-"

"Stop," Clark says, maybe a little too harshly. "You always say you're not good enough, or pretty enough. I think you're probably too good for me, and you're definitely drop dead gorgeous. Let's be real, Chloe. I've led you on with the looks, the touches, the 'maybe somedays.' I don't know why you don't hate me by now."

"Sometimes I do," she admits, to his surprise and very much deserved hurt.

"Keep hating me then. Especially now," he tells her, desperately hoping she'll just let well enough alone this time, but he knows she won't. This is Chloe Sullivan, after all. She never lets well enough alone. It's what makes her a damn fine reporter. It's what makes her his greatest ally.

Clark just wants Chloe to move her hand. Either remove it from his leg, or move it higher. Why is she doing any of this? Why stick by him after the orb gave her a chance to go home? Does it matter if he's selfless or not?

"Why didn't you go home?" he asks.

Chloe's grip on his leg tightens and he ignores it as best he can.

"I told you. I won't lose you," she says. "Besides, I've come to realize this journey isn't just for you. It's for me, too."

Now, her hand inches its way up and finally stops in the last place it should, and the only place he wants it, which is right on his dick. Chloe's breath catches in her throat, matching his identical gasp at the contact. He's too high for this. They probably both are. The alcohol has caught up to him, making his entire body flush. His cock is especially heated, hardening in his jeans under Chloe's touch, despite all of his doubts.

He's thinking he should've already left. He shouldn't have dry humped Chloe in that cavern. He shouldn't have shared the rum they'd found. He should've just said no thanks and then told her he needed some solitude. Now it's too late to do any of that, to take any of it back. It's too late to take back the erection that's just getting more noticeable, straining under her small palm, and made even harder when she touches him with even more pressure, and the kind of boldness with which Lana had never touched him.

Now Clark's not sure what he wants. Does he pull Chloe's hand away, disappoint and upset her yet again since they met as kids? Or does he place his own hand atop hers in a silent plea for her to stay, to keep touching him? He ends up shifting, lifting his hips in a momentary grind against her palm. If she's as smart as he knows her to be, she'll just let go.

"Why you doing this?" he finally asks, when Chloe just keeps her palm against his stiffened member.

The question gives Chloe the courage to keep going. He's not telling her to stop, after all. Chloe answers with a breathy whisper.

"Because this is why we're here," she finally says. "To find the answer to the question of who you're truly in love with, who you should be with. Jor-El thinks your heart lies with me but you just need to see it. I think he's right, but does my heart lie with you? Am I in love with you, or the idea of you?"

Clark swallows. It's hard to talk with Chloe's hand exploring his length through his jeans, stroking him carefully, lovingly. He's so hard he can feel his physical needs taking over his common sense, blocking it out, so that he's thinking with his dick, not his brain. Still, he needs the answer.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you," she tells him. "I'm in love with the idea of you, too. I'm in love with the hero you can be, and he man you are. All of you."

Chloe's palm continues to rub at him, pressing harder, doing her best to make him give into her and give her what she wants while he takes what he needs.

"Chloe…" Damn it, if his dick didn't throb every time she stroked him. "If I do this it'll be me just being selfish. Some hero."

"You're not the only one being selfish right now," Chloe concedes.

The idea of turning Chloe away now is absurd, especially with her hand running over the outline of his turgid cock, enjoying the feel of every hard inch of what he had to offer.

Clark corks the bottle of rum and throws it a few feet away, into the sand, near the edge of the black water of the pool. He's done objecting to Chloe. He lets her fingers nimbly work the button open on his jeans, and tug the zipper down. He just leaned back against the rough surface of the tree behind him and stares ahead, at their tiny oasis and the fire that crackles not far away to ward off the chill of the night.

---

Chloe wishes she didn't like the look on Clark's face so much right now, but she does, because that look of pleasure is so intense it's almost a look of pain. A look she's putting on his handsome face. That plump, rosy bottom lip of his is trapped under his white teeth, turning even redder as they scrapes over the tender flesh.

That Clark hasn't denied being in love with her was what amazes her most. That he hasn't brought up Lana's name now, of all times, leaves her feeling emboldened, and hoping that maybe this time there won't be any backpedaling from whatever happens between them.

Her hand caresses his length, and every time her fingers brush him she can't help but be amazed how good it makes her feel from her hand down to her sodden panties. Fooling around with Jimmy Olsen is like child's play in comparison. Touching him never makes her body ache in the most delicious ways. It never makes her hum like she has hold of a live wire. All she wants now is skin to skin contact, to put away thoughts of others and just feel Clark's most intimate parts for the first time, with only him in mind.

Chloe straddles Clark's lap. He's such a big man that her legs spread far just for her knees to be able to make contact with the sand upon which they sit.

Clark stares up at her with a steady gaze. His eyes have a shine to them that she doesn't know if it comes from the rum or her. The thought that it's her boosts her confidence. She's amazed by that square jaw, how good-looking he is. He's gorgeous inside and out, with his noble heart, his messy mop of curly black hair, and that stubble. Chloe's breath catches again when she feels his enormous hands on her hips, working their way to her round bottom where they squeeze and knead and he clearly enjoys the feel of her in his palms.

"You do everything in secret. The people you save don't know who you are so you never hear it. I'm going to say it now," Chloe whispers. "Thank you for being a hero, even if you're a reluctant one."

Clark's hands continue to squeeze Chloe's ass, grinding her against him. He's touched by her words. He feels his chest warm with love for her. His forehead comes to rest against hers, and Chloe does what she's wanted to do all day-she closes the distance between them and presses her lips to his.

Clark grazes his fingers over the exposed flesh of Chloe's belly, stoking the fires within her. He runs them up her back, his fingers greedy to feel her skin. When she parts her lips and feels his tongue slip into her mouth she gives in to his demanding hands, and his demanding tongue, allowing him to feel her body over, allowing that touch of his to make her moisten and throb as she frantically grinds against him.

Knowing he wants her as much as she wants him is an aphrodisiac for Chloe. Having Clark's love has been a lifelong dream that's now come true. She doesn't have to want him from afar anymore, so she doesn't. He's hers now, and she plans to enjoy that fact. She reaches into his jeans and wraps her hand around his cock, pulling him free so that his member is a thick, veiny column of flesh between their bodies. She strokes him, feeling his moans vibrate against her mouth while she grips him tight, making her want to finish him right there with just her hand.

The need inside Chloe, the love she feels for Clark, is almost enough to scare her away, to give up, release him, run to the wood and hide from it so she can beg Jor-El to send them home. Yet it's Clark's taught body, his eager tongue, that quickly squashes that instinct. She couldn't leave him if he ordered her away. Especially when he breaks the kiss and his hot breath floods her neck and his moans vibrate inside her chest as she continues stroking him.

"Chloe…" he moans.

God, has her name ever sounded so good on a man's lips? She thinks she's as wet as she can possibly get, but hearing him say her name like that, with so much need, makes her even wetter, makes her pussy ache, almost painfully, with need. He just got harder in her grip. It's impossible, surely, but that was how it is: he's gone beyond stone, to steel. He's a whole man positively made of steel.

Clark's own body is a guide to what he wants, how he needs to be touched. She grips his cock tightly, tighter than any normal man could handle, and pumps him. She doesn't move as fast as she knows he wants. She can't risk getting him there too quickly. Instead she teases him, milks one moan after another from his full, rosy lips.

It comes as a genuine surprise when he's the one to stop her, a growl of lust and determination rumbling in his chest. She feels his thumb brush the underside of her now-ragged, dirty bra.

"I want to see you," he says, his lips grazing the sweat-slicked flesh of her chest. "All of you."

Chloe pulls the bra off, over her head, and lets it fall beside them. Now she's exposed, at least from the waist up. He gazes at her with such concentration she feels her flesh heat. Clark's heat vision is activated by hormonal changes. He really is burning her with his gaze. He closes his eyes a moment, gets control of himself, and opens them again.

"More."

With his help, Chloe stands, her knees wobbly, and he helps unzip her jeans, helps her work her way of them, and her sodden panties follow immediately after. His eyes linger on her moistened womanhood before his hands ran up the length of her smooth legs. He grips her bare ass, pulls her down, until once again she straddles his lap. She gazes down at him, feels him work his jeans down even further, exposing more of himself to her for her scrutiny. He isn't ashamed of his nakedness. He definitely has no need to be.

"Come closer," he whispers.

Chloe moves even closer, as close as their bodies can be without actually merging. His lips graze her neck while his fingers explore her body. God it feels good, so good, to have him touch her with such gentle caresses. The feel of his big hands running over her back, down to her ass, over her hips and back up is slowly filling her with the sweetest pressure that builds with every stroke, but it's when she feels his dick against her sensitive nub that she moans the first time. There's nothing between them now. They're skin to skin in the most intimate way.

Chloe's instincts take over, guiding her, leading her to grind over him, coating his cock with her juices. His hands come to a stop on her round bottom and grip her tightly, press her against him, encourage her to grind even harder until, from a distance, one would think she'd taken him inside, judging by the rocking of her hips and the moans escaping her.

When her head falls back Clark's lips seek out the tender flesh of her throat, she feels him moving, twitching eagerly, between the folds of her pussy.

"Clark…" she gasps.

She needs relief. She needs comfort from the now painful level of need inside her, and Clark is determined he won't leave her unsatisfied. He lifts her up, handling her weight and her body like it's nothing, and she guides him to her. Slowly, gently, she eases onto him, and takes every inch of him inside. She's only aware she's moaning so loudly when she hears the deeper timbre of his voice in harmony with hers.

Chloe rests against him now, adjusting to his length and girth, enjoying the feel of comfort from finally having him inside her. It's Clark's whimpers of need as she adjusts herself on him that spurs her to move. She rocks her hips slowly, finding a rhythm, a pace, that is right for both of them. She gazes at his face, at his closed eyes, his crinkled brow, his slightly parted lips. She loves him, so much, and that love deepens when his eyes open and lock onto hers. Every gasp is new, different, a reaction to the feel of her body gripping him, throbbing around him.

Faster and faster Chloe's hips move until she suddenly clenches around Clark's cock, over and over again, fading from tight clenches into flutters. She is near tears from the pleasure that ripples through her. Clark watches her face as she climaxes, and soon she realizes he's placed his hands and feet on the ground beside him to gain leverage. Now he's thrusting his hips, moving up and into her, going so deep it's almost painful. Almost.

"Oh God, Clark…"

One of his hands comes back up to take hold of her hips as he finally finds release of his own. She feels it spurting inside of her, thick and warm. It feels good. Right. Complete, to feel him climax inside while he's locked gazes with her.

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