Chapter 6

Clark cupped his hand behind Lois's neck, pulling her down on top of him so he could kiss her once more. Her hair fell against his cheek, shielding her face like a curtain as her mouth opened above his. When he trailed his hands down her back, his fingers catching on the soft cotton fabric that provided a thin protection between their bodies, he reflected that his shirt had never felt so soft – or looked so good – as it did on her.

With a moan, he tried to roll over, to lay her on her back, but the couch was too narrow. After struggling for a moment, he huffed in irritation and scooped Lois into his arms. For this, his first time with her, he was going to need more room.

Taking the steps three at a time, he raced up to his bedroom with her in his arms. When he reached the bed, he had to remind himself to go slow. Take his time. His desire for her was so intense that it was painful, but he wanted to do this right. And, also, she'd laid down a challenge he had no intention of forfeiting. He had something to prove to her, after all.

Clark rested Lois gently on the bed before coming down on top of her, his body pressing her into the mattress. Bracing his arms on either side of her head, he stared at her. Her lips were puffy from his kisses, her eyes hazy with desire, her cheeks flushed. For the rest of his life, he would remember what she looked like in this moment.

Lois wrapped her arms around his shoulders and arched against him, rubbing her body against his, and he realized that he had to do something fast if he didn't want to lose control. With a grunt, he rolled to the side and wrapped an arm around Lois's waist, pulling her against him before she'd even had time to realize he'd moved.

"Clark, what's going on?" she gasped, trying to turn in his arms.

He held her firmly in place. "I thought you wanted me to prove something to you," he reminded her, feeling a certain measure of satisfaction when he felt her tremble as his breath fell hot against her neck. It was time to act out one or two of the fantasies he'd entertained over the last couple of nights, when he'd been lying on the cold couch by himself, thinking of her lying in the bed above him.

First, he had to get her out of her shirt, but Lois was already ahead of him. He waited until she'd slipped the last button out of its hole and then covered her hand with his, marveling at how small her hand felt in his, how fragile. "What are you doing?" she breathed as he guided her hand, pulling the folds of her shirt aside.

He didn't answer as he brought her hand to her stomach and trailed it down to her hip. With her hand trapped under his, he was able to caress her with his fingertips, feeling the softness of her skin. "Clark?" she asked uncertainly, his name catching in her throat, as he trailed their hands along the inside of her thighs and up her stomach to her breasts. He heard her gasp when he thumbed her nipple, causing it to bead under his touch.

With his super hearing, Clark tuned into every sound she made as she guided her hand along an exploration of her body. He knew what made her catch her breath, what made her moan, and what caused her to make small mewling sounds in the back of her throat. When he'd teased her to the point that she was squirming in his arms, every movement she made against his body driving him insane, he swept their hands across her hip to the juncture of her thighs.

Lois didn't fight him as he guided her fingers between her folds and started to make small, circular patterns. He smiled and kissed the back of her neck as she shuddered against him, and when she moaned something that sounded like his name, he increased the pressure, stroking her more firmly, guiding her thumb to her clit to stroke it forcefully.

Earlier that night, he'd listened to her above him, heard her moan his name as she pleasured herself. She would never touch herself like this again without thinking of him guiding her like this, his body wrapped around hers, his breath hot as he kissed the side of her neck.

When she started quivering in his arms, he finally released her hand and plunged two fingers inside her body, stroking her deep inside with his fingertips as he continued to thumb her clit. The sounds she made as he pleasured her were intoxicating; after days of her teasing him, tormenting him, it took all of his self-control to hold himself back when all he wanted to do was tear off his boxers and plunge inside of her. Somehow, he held himself back, reminding himself that it wasn't time. Yet.

For three days, she'd teased him just by being nearby. He'd desired her with a need that was painful but had not wanted to take advantage of her condition. This one time, he wanted to torment her as she'd intentionally (and sometimes unintentionally, as well) tormented him. So, with the last desperate hold on his self-control, he concentrated entirely upon her, upon the sounds she made and the way she moved in his arms. He brought her to the brink, but when she was just about to go over, he stopped. "Shh," he murmured in her ear, his fingers stilling inside her. "Not yet."

Lois made a low moan of frustration and bucked against his hand, trying to finish what he'd started, but he anticipated her and thwarted her attempt. He moved his free hand to her waist, holding her hips tight against his as he listened closely as her breathing became less ragged.

And then he moved his hand again, increasing the pressure of his thumb, the speed of his fingers as he plunged them in and out of her body. He heard her breath catch; her fingers dug into his arms as her hips bucked against his. He bit the back of her neck gently, and her head fell back against him. He stroked her until she clawed at the sheets of the bed, and when her legs started to fall together, he thrust his knee between her thighs, wrapping his foot around her calf to pin her legs open.

With his hand, he teased her until his name was unintelligible on her lips, her breath loud and rasping in the silence of his bedroom. And then, when he couldn't take it anymore, he released her.

Lois cried out in surprise as she fell back against the mattress, but the sound choked off when he moved between her legs a little faster than he should have been able. But he couldn't take it anymore. He'd been teasing her, but he found that he'd been the one teased, in the end. It was no longer enough for him to simply touch her; he wanted to taste her, as well.

Spreading her thighs so he could settle between her legs, Clark bent his neck and nuzzled her. Lois let out a moan that was almost a shriek when he tasted her for the first time, his breath fanning against the inside of her folds as he stroked her with his mouth. His tongue located her clit and he circled it with his tongue, flicked the tip of his tongue against her, sucked her clit between his lips.

She arched against him, her writhing frenetic, and he found he had to brace her hips in his hands and hold her still to keep her from bucking away from his touch. When he thrust his tongue inside of her, simulating with his mouth what he'd been doing earlier with his hands, she let out a careening wail and made a desperate grab for him. Mindless from passion, she yanked hard at his ear, tugged his hair, dug her fingers into his scalp. She sobbed his name, begging for something she could no longer form the words to request. He was merciless with his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his teeth. Until finally, she let out a deafening moan that cut off abruptly as her breath seized in her throat, arched, stiffened, and then began to shudder against him.

Clark continued to lick her as she came, but this time his movements were slow. Almost soothing. After a moment, he stopped and lifted his weight onto his palms so he could look at her face.

The rise and fall of her chest was unsteady, her breathing still ragged. When she lifted a hand to her face to wipe her hair back from her forehead, he could see that she was still trembling. As he watched, her eyes fluttered open, and she looked down at him, her gaze still hazy from a combination of pleasure and desire. She stared at him for a long moment and then conceded, her voice still a bit unsteady, "Okay, I was wrong. You're not shy."

Clark chuckled, but it sounded pained. He was still throbbing; the sounds she'd made as she came had in no way helped with his condition. Sitting up, Lois reached for him. Once again, he remembered that she wasn't herself, and he felt the sudden pang of his conscience. Which, given what he'd just done to her, even he recognized as being fairly ridiculous. Still, his conscience seemed to differentiate the moral ambiguity of giving her pleasure and taking his, and the latter still seemed wrong, somehow. "Lois, I don't know –" he started to say in feeble protest.

"I do," she said firmly, wrapping her arms around his waist and dragging him on top of her. "You keep saying I'm infected by something and there may not be a cure. Well, have you ever considered that this might be the cure?"

Clark suspected that at some later point in time, when he was more rational, his brain not quite so fogged by temptation and lust, he would find a serious flaw in that argument. In his present condition, however, he couldn't help but feel that the logic of her argument was indisputable. He was rationalizing it to himself and he knew it, but he didn't care. He was tired of denying how much he ached for this woman.

As though sensing her victory was within reach, Lois tilted her chin back to whisper in his ear, "I want you inside me."

His self-control broke. Or maybe he simply threw it away with both hands. Either way, Lois wasn't able to say anything else, could no longer use her words to provoke or torment him, as his mouth came down hard upon hers. He devoured her with his lips, thrusting her tongue into her mouth. In the back of his mind, a voice whispered that he should be gentle, but he was no longer in a position to heed it. His kiss was hard and demanding, filled with all the frustrated need he'd been fighting back for days.

But rather than shrinking from the strength of his desire, Lois reciprocated his kiss, her embrace every bit as fierce as his. Her tongue battled his, her teeth scraped against his skin, her hands clutched hard in his hair. Rather than pushing him away, she wrapped herself around him, lifting her hips to meet his.

Her mouth swallowed his moan as he thrust inside her, her wetness making it easy for him to slide inside. When he had filled her completely, he lifted his weight onto shaking arms and tried to regain control of himself, hold himself back. This was their first time together; he should be cognizant of that fact. He knew he should make the moment romantic, take it slow, be gentle with her.

But Lois wasn't having any of it; she wasn't the type to lie passively back and let him set the pace. With her teeth curled into a snarl, she dug her heels into his calves and relaxed her hips before thrusting hard against him again. Almost of their own volition, Clark's hips surged against hers, and he accepted defeat. He couldn't hold himself back at this moment if his life depended upon it, and it seemed that Lois didn't want him to, at any rate.

His weight pressed her into the mattress and her voice was loud in his ear as he pounded into her. When he touched her, her body was slick with sweat, and from the way her hands slid along the muscles of his back, he knew his was as well. She met his every thrust, and he gritted his teeth, trying to prolong the moment for as long as he could. But he'd been hard for three days, wanting her. It had gotten to the point that the smell of his shampoo (which she'd been using when she showered) made him hard. He'd listened to her pleasure herself and had been doing the same when she'd interrupted him wearing nothing but his white dress shirt. He was simply past the point where even he could find the strength to hold off any longer.

She wrapped herself around him, and he came inside her with a cry, his body stiffening in her embrace. He could feel her lips on his forehead, his cheek, his neck, the curve of his shoulder as he poured himself inside of her. When his weight collapsed on top of her, he knew he should move, that he was heavy and he might be hurting her. But even still, it was a minute before he could get the strength to lift himself off of her.

Clark pulled Lois against his body as he flung his free arm over his eyes and tried to get himself under control. She rested her head on his chest, her leg slung over his hips, and stroked his chest with her palm. Even with his stamina, he knew he should be too exhausted to continue for a while, but at her touch, he could feel himself twitch and start to grow hard again.

Clark Kent was not a man who cursed often, but he muttered a curse under his breath. Perhaps he was getting infected by trace amounts of whatever was in her blood from contact with her sweat. More likely, there was just something about her; he couldn't get enough. Lois squeaked in surprise as he curved his arm around her waist and dragged him on top of his body.

She needed no further invitation. Her fingers curved into his skin as she poised herself above him and let him guide himself into her body. With her palms against his chest, she braced her weight as she rode him. But still, she teased him, paying him back for what he had done to her until he moaned her name, his voice pleading. When Clark looked up at her face, he saw from her mischievous smile that she knew exactly what she was doing to him, riding him fast and then slowing unexpectedly until he was groaning in frustration.

He let her torment him for as long as he could stand it, and then he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her off him, tossing her back onto the bed. Lois laughed and rolled as she fell, ready to scramble away out of his reach. Next time, he promised he'd let her tease him as much as she wanted. But not tonight. He couldn't take much more of it tonight.

Grabbing her fast before she could get away from him, Clark lifted himself into a kneeling position behind her, nudging her legs apart with his knees. Her chuckle turned into a moan as he rubbed her with his fingers, testing her wetness, and she backed into him. Reaching beneath her, he nudged her legs open until they were spread wide, and then he took his position behind her again.

Slipping two fingers inside of her, he stroked her until she moaned. And then, when she was rocking back against him, he entered her once more. With one hand on his hip and the other wrapped around her thigh, he pulled her back against him, as he thrust into her. She moaned and rolled her hips, meeting his thrusts. "Faster," she gasped, and he complied, surging into her. The hand on her hip moved between her legs and he stroked her clit as he pounded inside her again and again.

Her hands fisted into the sheets, pulling them away from the mattress. Their cries met and echoed in the small enclosed space. Her hair fell over her shoulders, framing her cheeks, and she shook her head hard, trying to fling away. Clark reached for her, pulled her hair back over her shoulders. It was damp from where it had rubbed against her body. Wrapping it around his hand, he placed his palm on her shoulder, pulling her head back a little as he continued his rhythmic thrusts.

It wasn't long before she was trembling in his arms again, moaning loudly as she came. He released the hold he had on her hair when her arms buckled and she buried her face against the pillow to muffle her cries. Thrusting into her a few more times, Clark's hands tightened on her hips and he screamed in pleasure, pouring into her once more.

When Lois fell against the mattress, he came down on top of her, twisting to the side so he wouldn't unintentionally hurt her. And then, as she curled up in his arms again, he drifted off to sleep.

They made love twice more that night. Once, he awoke to the feel of her mouth against him. She had her hand wrapped around his shaft and was swirling her tongue around the head of his penis. When she saw his eyes flutter open and felt the muscles of his thighs tighten beneath her, she wrapped her mouth around his tip, running her tongue along the length of his shaft as she swallowed him.

The next time Clark awoke, it was when he felt the mattress beside him shift. He wrapped an arm around Lois's waist, pulling her against him. She chuckled and told him she needed a glass of water, and so he'd reluctantly let her go. But when she returned to the room, he was waiting for her. She'd barely stepped across the threshold when she was in his arms. They didn't even make it to the bed, that time; he took her against the wall, knocking over the lamp on his dresser as she wrapped her legs around him.

The sun was already high in the sky by the time they stirred again. Clark awoke first, though he tried to remain very still so he wouldn't disturb her. A while later, he heard her breathing quicken and watched as her eyes fluttered open. Propping his head on his elbow, he smiled down at her. "Morning," he murmured, throwing his arm over her waist, his fingers trailing gently against the small of his back.

Lois yawned and shifted closer to him. "Morning," she said, her voice thick with sleep.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, a slight crease of concern forming between his eyebrows. He was afraid he'd been too aggressive the night before and she might be sore.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes at him, as though she had read his thoughts. "Fine. I feel…" She paused and frowned, blinking rapidly in confusion. "I feel…different."

Clark stiffened almost imperceptibly. "Different?" he asked, the question stilted. "What do you mean, different?" Too late, his conscience awoke and reminded him in graphic detail of all the things he had done with her the night before that he almost certainly shouldn't have. "Bad different or good different?" he pressed worriedly.

She shook her head slightly, but her frown grew. "Just…different, different. I think…It's hard to explain. I've been incredibly turned on for the last few days, ever since that night we agreed to take it slow, but now…"

Her sentence broke off as she gasped and shot bolt upright, clutching the sheet to her chest. Clark could feel his stomach sink as he anticipated what was coming. She was going to be angry, furious with him for taking advantage of her. He'd known she wasn't herself, but he hadn't cared. He should have held out longer, even if it killed him.

His brain was about to run through the long litany of things he should have done – and definitely should not have done – under the circumstances, when Lois turned to glare at him. "Clark!" she cried indignantly.

"I know what you're going to say, Lois, and you're right. I'm sorry…" he began as he sat up. He knew she was going to be livid with him, and he supposed she had a right to be. The worst part was, he knew he couldn't lose her, but he didn't have the first clue of how to fix this.

Lois cut him off, but what she said was completely unexpected. "Three days!" she exclaimed. His apology trailed off, and he drew back in surprise. "I was doing everything I could to get you into bed, and it took you three days to finally cave?" There was no mistaking it. She didn't sound livid that he'd finally given in, like he'd expected. She just sounded affronted that it had taken him so long.