Turn me on
Trinity Angel
Rating: M

The dam has broken and there is no going back. One incendiary glance has ignited, like a match to kerosene, and there will be no patching this up. There will be no starting over, no forgetting and goddamnit, no regrets. Plaster cracks and Diana swears she can feel the steel beams of the building start to bend. This is dangerous, people could be hurt, but for one selfishly indulgent second, frankly, she doesn't give a damn. His hands push up along her body, molding every curve as though he'd been the first to sculpt her from clay. From hip to waist, ribs to shoulders. His hands finally settle against her bare skin with a force that would have broken a lesser woman's neck. The thought would have brought a nasty smirk to her lips had they not been otherwise occupied. She is not a lesser woman. Hell, she's not even mortal. Pride swells as, once again, Diana is reminded that she is not just Diana Prince: she is Diana of Themyscira, princess of the Amazons, daughter of Hippolyta, creation of the Gods. No one can claim her, no soul in this world holds power over her, but tonight...tonight she's found her equal. No one in the world can meet him like she can, no one can contain him like her, and if she has her way (which she finally damn sure will) none but her ever will.

His hands move again, parting the thick strands of her midnight hair with his fingers. The tips press against her scalp and though she can feel the pressure, it doesn't bother her in the least. In fact, it spurs her on. These kisses, these touches they'll barely mar her alabaster skin, leaving behind maybe-

"Oh!" A shudder rolls through from top of her head, curling her toes, as his teeth find purchase on her collarbone...That might leave a mark.

"Diana...I'm sorry, I'm sorry," The apology is whispered against her skin, and for an excruciating second, Clark's hands stop moving. Diana's eyes open to half-mast meeting a gaze that nearly mirrors her own, save for his desire seems to suddenly be tempered with worry. "Are you alright?" He should stop. Clark knows he should stop, examine her skin and make sure he didn't do any damage, but he can't pull away. His hips are firmly secured to hers, but for the moment he halts their motion. An extremely grueling moment. He should have been more careful. God if he hurt her, he'll never forgive himself.

"Shut up, shut up..." When Diana's eyes open, they're once again filled with the same fury that got them in this predicament in the first place. Not that he's complaining. Then again, neither is she. "Shut up, Kal. I am no mortal woman. I will not break." As if to prove her point, Diana finds his lower lip and returns a sharp bite, and he can feel it. Clark can feel it all the way to his bones, to the depths of his heart that he swore would never be found. The responding growl only draws a laugh from her lips and the last thought Clark has before his lust takes over is that if she's laughing and not screaming his name, then he's got some work to do.

With a shift of her hips and a push that does her Amazon heritage proud, Diana tries to turn the tides, but Clark will have none of it. A push of his own and she is her pinned back against the wall of his apartment. It pisses her off a little. She is the hunter, never the prey. But another part of her screams out in triumph. Finally! Finally an equal. She is not bested, not by a long shot, even if she is just the slightest bit inexperienced. This is a new challenge, one that is almost completely unknown to her, but Diana has never turned from a challenge, let alone a challenge from him. The arena is different, but the contact is as exhilarating as one of their training. More so, if she's being honest. And really, what better time than now to be honest?

"Kal I-" Her words are stopped by his lips finding hers again. It hurts a bit, but deliciously so.

"Please," His tone perks her ears, catching her attention more than the sudden halt of his kiss. "Please don't tell me to stop. I can't. God, help me, Diana, I can't." He sounds remorseful, the slightest bit desperate even. Her lashes part and the sky blue gaze that catches hers is so needy she can't look away. Drowning, this must be what drowning feels like. Never one to overdo torture, Diana merely presses her lips back to his with a passion, and a love that she couldn't contain, even if she wanted to.

Clark feels a relief that he can't even express. This one chance, this one chance to finally let go...If she'd have asked him to stop, no, told him to stop (because something tells him she wouldn't do much asking tonight) he would have, but it would have killed him. A part of him would have died right then and there at her feet, never to be revived. But she didn't, bless her, Diana didn't so much as pause and the need he feels for her roars to life again.

This feeling, this intense need to just let go has always been lingering. Just beneath the surface, begging to be let go, but tightly restrained. Never before, has Clark felt so completely and utterly out of control. But she's right, as usual, Diana, his Diana is right; she won't break and he loves her all the more for it.

I love her. The realization is less staggering and more like a puzzle piece falling into place, as if a part of him has known it all along.

There would be a time for words from both of them, but this is not it.

Instinct offers the motion and Diana's hips roll against his. It's a gunshot and the race is on both trying to see who can get the other undressed first. Wild, the picture is wild, and more than one piece of clothing is being stretched to its ripping point. After a while they give up, knowing full nudity will take more time than they want to spare and this candle is burning at both ends. Kal, because he is most certainly no longer the bumbling Clark by this point, pushes aside the blue material separating them and Diana works his tights down to mid-thigh. Catching her knee under his forearm, he lifts and with one push, he's home. Blessedly home.

Any thoughts from there are basal. Kal barely registers what might have been a bit of resistance, and Diana most certainly gives him no time to ponder it further. He pushes, she pulls. He bites, she returns the favor. They are a frenzy of movement until, with a cry muffled into his half bare shoulder, and a gasp from his lips it's over. Sated, Kal lowers them both unceremoniously to the floor, but with a bit more care then it seems he's shown for his apartment wall. That would have to be fixed. The frown it causes doesn't last though, melting back into a content smile. Seconds slip into minutes, their breathing steadies. Carefully, he starts to pull bits of plaster from her hair.

"Diana," This would have to be broached. Awkwardly was better than nothing. "Were you a...what I'm trying to say is, well...was this your-"

And Clark is back. Diana perks a brow. Eh, a little torture every now and then didn't really hurt.

"You're just going to let me fumble here, aren't you?"


"Well, were you?"


"I'm sorry-"

"I swear to every god on Olympus, if you apologize once more I'm leaving." She starts to sit up, wondering if she could put her outfit together enough to make a dignified exit. Probably not. "I don't want your apologies. If I didn't want this to happen, right here, right now, with you, it wouldn't have happened. I don't want you to change this-this gift into anything other than exactly what it was, perfect. I am an Amazon. I am-"

"It was perfect, huh?"

"I am not finished." Smug was not a good color on Superman, or any man, if she was being honest.

"Alright, alright. I hear you, Diana. You aren't going to wither, shatter, or break. I just would have done things...differently."

"Kal, I didn't want differently. I don't want differently. If I wanted differently I wouldn't have walked in here and started screaming at you," She pauses. What were they fighting about? The memory didn't come. She continues. "I would have arrived dressed in virginal white like a sacrifice and offered myself to you. I wanted it just like you gave it. Nothing more, nothing less. I want every bit of you. Every. Single. Bit. Everything you can throw at me, I want it. I love it. I love you."

This time it's Clark who perks a brow. She loves him? Did he hear that right? She loves him? Well, shoot. He's excited, in more ways than one.

She's irritated, he can see it in the lines of her face, can feel it as her nails curl back into his flesh.

He can feel it. It feels like…like what he assumes touch feels like for everyone else in the world not bothered with the thought that one wrong touch could irreparably damage, well, anything or anyone. It turns him on. Jesus, she turns him on...

"We're going to have to discuss this."

"Obviously," She sighs, annoyed, and meets his eyes. How does he get under her skin like this? His gaze is suddenly deepening; changing, trying to pull her in, ensnare her. It trails down over her body and finally back up to her eyes. "What are you looking at?" Her voice is suddenly huskier and she has never, ever, felt so beautiful or so wild.

He's looking at everything. Every curve. Every inch that he can take in from her half off bodice to the way her skin has flushed to a deep red under his attentions. The bottom of her uniform is still askance, probably still damp... "Your tiara's crooked."

She expects something else. Something sensual, something sexy..."Are you kid-" Her sarcasm shifts into a rather undignified yelp of surprise.

Kal grins. Suddenly, she's under him, and he feels every inch. This feeling is addicting, intoxicating…He can get used to this and he knows it.

"You have no idea how you turn me on Diana. How much I love you," He whispers against her waiting lips. "And you couldn't turn any of it off, if you tried."