SV Fic: 1,001 Kryptonian Nights (Chlark, Adult), Chapter 6/??
*Waves* Surprise, it's an update! This is for any readers out there who might still be interested in the adventures of Sultan Kal-El and his intrepid harem girl.
Oh, and remember when I said this would be the last chapter? I lied. *Blushes* Turns out Kal-El and Chloe had something else in mind. Those two can be pretty stubborn, bless 'em. *G*
In case you don't remember where we left our heroes three months ago (!), Chloe had just surprised her favorite Sultan with a piece of Kryptonite. Did she do it on purpose? Will Kal-El recover? And, above all, will someone have to be undressed? (apeygirl, thanks for the inspiration. :D ) Find out the answers to these questions--plus much, much more--in this chappie!
Feedback > a triple chocolate sundae. Yum! :)
NOTE: As always, this fic is lovingly dedicated to my friend butifulyletdown. I hope you're feeling better, Zaye!
Read the last chapter here.
Read the whole story from the beginning here.
Chapter Six
Chloe cried out in horror as she watched Kal-El’s tall figure crash into a set of shelves and topple to the earthen floor amid a torrent of spilled pots and tableware. He landed on his back with an audible thud, his long arms flung out so far that they nearly touched the opposite ends of the tiny room.
Chloe paid no attention to the smashed crockery; her eyes were riveted on Kal-El’s pale face, which was bathed in the poisonous green radiance that had suddenly erupted from the rock in her outstretched palm.
She stared at the glowing stone as if it had suddenly turned into a scorpion in her hands. It hardly seemed possible that it was the same nondescript lump that had sat on her father’s bookshelf for so many years.
Of course, only a few hours earlier, when Kal-El had revealed the truth about himself, he’d explained that it was actually a piece of his home world. She should have known there was a lot more to it than met the eye, but never in her wildest nightmares would she have imagined that it was a killer in disguise.
And there was no doubt in her mind that it was. Looking back at the Sultan, she saw blood seep out of a jagged cut left on his forehead by one of the sharp-edged pottery shards. Dark lines crawled up his neck from above the collar of his black tunic and spread over his marble cheeks, covering his face like a spider’s web. Kal-El, the indestructible, was dying.
A jolt of panic went through her. For once in her life, she didn’t stop to ask questions; heart pounding, she dropped the bundle of clothes slung over her other arm and, with all her might, chucked the cursed rock as far into her father’s chamber as she could. She heard it hit the far wall; at the same instant, the green glow was snuffed out as abruptly as a candle’s flame. Whether its light was extinguished because of the impact or because of the distance from Kal-El, she didn’t know and for now, she didn’t care.
Now that the room where she stood was plunged back into gloom, Kal-El’s inert form was lit only by the few stray moonbeams that managed to filter through the chinks in the closed shutters covering the chamber’s sole window. She sank to her knees next to him and searched anxiously for any signs of improvement, hoping against hope that getting rid of the stone would do some good.
In the darkness, Kal-El’s tall body, dressed in his black tunic, leggings, and caftan, was virtually invisible, except for the pearl sigil embroidered on his tunic. It gleamed on his chest in the moonlight, and it was absolutely still.
Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she bent over him, dabbing gently at the cut on his forehead with the hem of her silken skirt. She held an ear to his chest, listening for any sign of life; hearing none, she straightened and looked at his too-peaceful face.
Chloe stifled a sob. “Please, Kal-El,” she choked out, her vision blurred by sudden tears. “Please get better.”
Unable to resist the urge to touch him, she placed one shaking hand on top of his chest, as hesitantly as if they hadn’t made love just a few brief hours earlier.
“I need you,” she added.
She cut herself off, blinking in surprise. Where had that come from? How could someone she’d just met mean that much to her?
And yet…he did. Until she’d met him, she’d felt like a fish out of water in this desert kingdom. Even her father had a hard time understanding why her dreams and goals were so different from those of most other women. But Kal-El understood, she mused, searching his face anxiously for any sign of movement. In a way, he’d set her free because with him, more than anyone else, she could be herself.
“I need you,” she repeated slowly, and knew she meant it.
As if in response, Kal-El abruptly drew in a sharp breath, startling Chloe into snatching back her hand. The pearl sigil began to rise and fall in a gentle, reassuring rhythm and, to Chloe’s boundless relief, she saw that his cut had healed and the ugly dark lines marring his face were fading rapidly, although his eyes were still shut. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain away.
Now that she knew Kal-El would be alright, she began to wonder nervously if he’d heard what she’d just said. She sincerely hoped not.
“I meant to say, we need you,” she backtracked firmly. “Everyone. The whole kingdom.”
His eyelids fluttered open. His glance, bright as ever in spite of the darkness, was riveted on Chloe, but he said nothing.
She chose to take that as a sign that her impromptu confession had gone unnoticed. Relaxing, she smiled down at him. “You’re alright,” she observed, unnecessarily.
He propped himself up on one elbow and stretched out his free hand to take one of hers. “Yes,” he replied with a note of disbelief in his voice, as if “alright” was the last thing he’d expected to be. His eyes never left her face. “I am.”
“I got rid of that-that thing,” she added, nodding toward her father’s room. “I only wanted to show it to you because I thought you'd be interested in seeing it. Why didn’t you tell me it was so dangerous to you?”
When Kal-El continued to search her face, Chloe tilted her head, puzzled. “What is it?”
Without warning, he burst into a grin wide enough to light up the entire city. “You didn’t know.”
“Of course not, how could I….” Chloe’s head jerked up in sudden realization. “You thought I planned this.” She stared at him, numb with shock. “You thought I was trying to kill you.”
The Sultan’s grin vanished as she recoiled from him and pushed herself to her feet, stung by the thought that Kal-El had believed, even for one instant, that she was capable of cold-blooded murder.
Somewhere deep inside her, she heard a small voice whisper that only yesterday she’d accused the Sultan of the same thing. But that, she thought angrily, had been totally different. She’d had plenty of good reasons for believing that. Kal-El, on the other hand, had jumped to a conclusion for no reason whatsoever.
Well, except that she’d called him a dictator. And made it plain that she hated dictators. But still.
Her whole body tensed as she watched Kal-El rise, moving with his usual fluid grace, obviously none the worse for wear. He reached for her shoulders; breathing hard, she stepped back to evade his grasp, and nearly tripped over the hem of her long silken skirt.
Two warm hands steadied her gently. “I didn’t want to believe that,” he said gravely, meeting her gaze. “I almost told you about the Kryptonite before. If I had, this would never have happened. I’m sorry.”
The quiet apology drained away her anger. Standing perfectly still, she let him hold her while she considered how she might feel if she were in his position.
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” she admitted at last. “You had every right in the world to protect your secret.”
Her lips curved into a small, rueful smile. “Especially from someone like me. Kings and freethinkers don’t usually get along.”
Kal-El’s head bent closer to hers. In the moonlight, his eyes shone, and what Chloe saw in them made her heart beat faster.
“I should have known you’d never betray me,” he murmured, and ran his fingers up and down her cheek, brushing off the last remnants of her tears with his thumb.
“And by the way,” he added, a note of humor creeping into his voice, “I like the way you think.”
Under his gaze, Chloe felt the shock of Kal-El’s near-death experience melt away. Revived a little, in spite of the late hour, she cocked an amused eyebrow at him. “Isn’t a freethinking dictator a contradiction in terms?”
He conceded the point with a low chuckle. “Maybe.”
Her smile deepened. “Hmmm. We’ll have to work on that.” She peered around the poorly-lit room in search of the bundle she’d dropped a few minutes earlier. “Which is why we’re here, come to think of it.”
He looked at her with a puzzled crease in his forehead. “It is?”
Chloe glanced in his direction and continued to scan the room. “You asked me to help you blend in, remember?” she said. “I had an idea. I’ll show you as soon as I locate Dad’s cloak. It’s around here somewhere.”
Instantly, Kal-El zeroed in on a spot near the overturned bookcase. Stepping past her, he retrieved a tattered garment from the floor, straightened, and shook it out in the moonlight.
The dark, hooded cloak was dotted with seams and patches, some of which, Chloe saw with chagrin, were beginning to come apart. She’d never learned how to mend clothes properly because that would have taken time from her work at the printer’s shop. Gabriel sometimes threatened, jokingly, that one day he’d have to marry a seamstress, but he’d never once asked her to spend more time at home.
As she eyed the sorry-looking thing, Chloe felt a sudden surge of gratitude for the tolerance her father had always shown her. He might not understand her, but in his own way, he was one of a kind, just as Kal-El was.
The Sultan, meanwhile, was staring at her in blank confusion. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Chloe snorted softly and put her hands on her hips. “What else? Try it on, Your Majesty.”
Seeing the doubtful expression on his face, she nearly laughed out loud. “Oh come on. Plain homespun won’t make you break out in hives. If you could break out in hives.”
He made a face as he swung the garment over his shoulders. Although Gabriel wasn’t a short man, his cloak barely reached Kal-El’s knees. Its rough texture sharply contrasted with the soft silks and satins of the Sultan’s outfit.
Kal-El ran exploratory fingers over the front of the cloak, stopping here and there to rub at her hasty repair jobs. “So this is homespun?” He looked up. “Did you make it?”
Chloe was glad her father hadn’t heard that question. “Not exactly,” she replied, struggling to keep her face straight at the thought of Gabriel laughing himself silly. “I, um, got it from the printer’s wife in exchange for teaching her the alphabet. She wants to learn how to read what her husband writes.”
She eyed him critically. “It’s a little shorter on you than I’d hoped, but the important thing is this.”
Stepping forward, she took hold of the cloak’s hood and, rising on tiptoe, reached up to draw it over Kal-El’s puzzled head. She backed off, noting with satisfaction that in the gloom, the Sultan’s face was almost completely concealed.
Only his eyes were visible. They met Chloe’s with a look of almost comic bewilderment.
“Don’t you see?” she prompted, giving him a meaningful look. “No one would ever guess you’re the Sultan.”
She felt a satisfied twinge as those eyes widened in understanding. White teeth glimmered in the faint light as he grinned back at her. “A disguise.”
Chloe smiled. “More than that. This is a way for you to actually be someone else, at least for a while. The cloak is just part of it. I could give you a whole new identity.” She paused to let the idea sink in.
He blew out a resigned sigh. “I can’t turn myself into someone normal, Chloe.”
“I never said you could,” she agreed calmly. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t want you to. You’re an amazing force for good in the world, Kal-El. I would hate to see you turn your back on that.”
The cloaked figure faced her, motionless, and Chloe knew he was listening closely. “But there’s nothing wrong about acting as if you’re normal,” she continued, using every ounce of persuasion she had. “You know-shopping for stuff, chatting with people, maybe even working side-by-side with them now and then? That’s the secret to blending in.”
She held her breath, waiting for a reply. If Kal-El was willing to try living as an ordinary mortal, it would be a huge step in the right direction. The more he got to know people, the less he might like the idea of being worshipped by them.
Kal-E nodded quickly. “That sounds good.”
Hearing the eagerness in his voice, Chloe held back a shout of triumph. The first step was a success.
Unfortunately, the next step was going to be a little bit harder.
“Who knows?” she replied, trying not to sound too hopeful. “You might decide you like it better than being a king.”
Kal-El stripped off the cloak, folded it carefully, and laid it on the well-scrubbed surface of the plain table. “I might,” he agreed quietly, casting her a warning look. “But I don’t think Jor-El would.”
Which was, Chloe reflected morosely, exactly the problem. How she’d get around it, she had no idea, and right now she was too tired to care.
“We’ll need to find you better-fitting clothes,” she said, stifling a yawn, overcome at last by exhaustion. It had been a very long, very unforgettable day.
“Let me take care of that,” he replied briskly, crossing over to her. “You need to go to bed.”
In one smooth motion he scooped her up into his arms. Chloe tucked her head into the hollow of his shoulder, content, for once, to let Kal-El take charge.
He cradled her next to his chest, holding her as lightly as if she were made of eggshells. “Let’s go home.”
Chloe didn’t bother to point out that she was already home. Instead, she relaxed against him drowsily and watched through half-closed eyes as they rose into the air, passed through the opening in the ceiling, and headed into the night sky.
They moved towards the palace at a gentle pace. Beneath them mud brick roofs and zigzag streets slowly slipped past Chloe’s feet, gradually giving way to the courtyards and fountains of the grander residences near the royal precincts.
She was lazily admiring the moonlit sheen reflecting off the stuccoed domes of the approaching palace when Kal-El inclined his head close to hers.
“By the way,” he began, his voice tickling her ear, “I heard what you said. About, um, needing me.”
Instantly Chloe was wide awake. “Said?” she echoed, trying to mask the panic in her voice. “I don’t remember saying anything. Except-I just asked you to get better. That’s all.”
There was a pause, during which they drifted over the Sultan’s private garden and headed towards a series of arched windows that, Chloe knew, belonged to her own chamber. “Oh,” Kal-El said after a minute. “Oh well. I guess I was mistaken.”
She glanced up at him doubtfully, but he was looking straight ahead, as if the task of floating the two of them through one of the windows required his full attention. She was still trying to catch his eye when they emerged in the chamber, close to the magnificent overstuffed bed in which Chloe had awoken that morning.
One look at its fluffy pillows and comfortable down mattress was enough to make Chloe happily table her suspicions. The brocaded coverlet was turned down invitingly, and soft satin sheets gleamed in the light of the enormous candle that had been left flickering on her nightstand. Her maid must have been busy this evening-which relieved Chloe, since it meant that she’d recovered from the bad fright she’d gotten courtesy of Jor-El’s magical crystal.
With infinite care, Kal-El laid Chloe on the mattress, and she sighed, succumbing to temptation. Sinking gratefully into its deliciously soft depths, she let the smooth sheets caress her tired muscles.
She looked up expectantly at Kal-El, who was still standing over her. “Aren’t you going to join me?” she asked wistfully, although she was already more than half asleep.
The candlelight glimmered on his face as he smiled down at her. “Later,” he replied. “I have some work to do first.”
His promise pleased her more than she’d expected. Even if nothing at all happened that night, she liked knowing that Kal-El would be sharing her bed. Because it meant that tomorrow, for the first time, they would start the day together.
A long yawn punctuated her thoughts, and she settled her head more comfortably on top of the stack of pillows, thinking of tomorrow.
Soft laughter rippled the air above her as her friend and lover leaned forward to brush his lips against her cheek. Chloe sighed contentedly, and let her eyelids drift shut.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Kal-El listened to the mingled sounds of Chloe’s breath and her heartbeat as they each slowed into a peaceful rhythm. As hard as it had been, he was glad he’d resisted the urge to climb into bed with her. He could go without sleep for months at a time if necessary, but the same wasn’t true of Chloe. He knew she was exhausted and, more than anything right now, she needed rest.
He eyed her elaborate court outfit worriedly. It didn’t look too comfortable. That thick golden collar, for instance, must weigh her down. It might even constrict her breathing.
Moving more rapidly than a human eye could see, he removed the collar and her sandals. Chloe murmured a little in her sleep and fell quiet again.
Exhaling softly in relief, Kal-El turned his attention to her form-fitting bodice and long, full skirt. They might be a problem, too.
Of course, he could always summon the maid to undress her. But, he mused, letting his eyes wander over the satiny smoothness of her skin and watching that tight bodice rise and fall, the maid was slower than he was. She might wake her.
He nodded to himself and fought back a small twinge of conscience. After all, this was for Chloe’s own good, not because he wanted to see her naked in the candlelight.
Well, not only because he wanted to see her naked in the candlelight. But that wasn’t the point. Not at all.
A split-second later, he was feasting his eyes on a wonderland of bare, shapely curves. She lay on her back on top of the sheets, one arm thrown across the pillows and the other draped over her stomach, her skin softly illuminated by the candle’s glow.
Sinking down onto the edge of the bed next to her, he admired her full breasts, slim waist, and the gentle swelling of her hips as if seeing them for the first time. The flickering shadows danced over her legs, teasing him with brief glimpses of the glistening curls protecting her sex.
As he’d suspected, Chloe looked beautiful in the candlelight. But then, she’d looked beautiful in the daylight too.
Unable to resist, he stretched out a hand to stroke her breast, careful to keep his touch as light as possible. When she didn’t stir, he let his fingers wander to her side. They traced a slow, intoxicating path down to her hips and rested there.
He flattened his palm against her skin, drinking in its coolness. Underneath, he could feel the blood thrumming in her veins, vibrant and bursting with life. She was a universe of desire, waiting to be explored.
Already he could feel himself growing hard. Setting his jaw resolutely, he lifted his hand and noticed that it was trembling.
It took all his strength to fight against the urge to take matters further. That, he told himself sternly, would be unforgivably selfish.
Deciding that he’d better go before the situation spun out of control, he got up, grimacing at the stiffness of the erection pushing against his trousers. He stared down at her tranquil face, framed by a halo of golden hair, and remembered the words she’d spoken to him as he’d recovered consciousness in her father’s house. Whether she denied saying them or not, those three little words had actually made him grateful for that chunk of Kryptonite.
“I need you.” To hear those words, he’d have been willing to face a whole mountain of Kryptonite.
“For what it’s worth, my lady Chloe,” he whispered to her sleeping form, “I need you, too.”
He reached out to tuck her in for the night when he heard her give a low moan. Freezing in his tracks, he watched her squirm on top of the sheets, and hoped, guiltily, that he hadn’t disturbed her too much.
He exhaled a relieved sigh when he saw that her eyes remained tight shut. She was definitely still fast asleep, but she continued to shift restlessly on the bed and her lips moved soundlessly, as if she were having a conversation with someone in her dreams.
Fascinated, Kal-El continued to watch as she let out another soft moan. So slowly that he almost didn’t notice at first, the arm resting on her stomach inched upwards, then lifted slightly to allow her hand to settle on one breast.
Kal-El felt his mouth go dry. At the same time, beads of sweat moistened his brow. He ran his tongue over his lips, unable to look away.
Lazily her fingers fondled the area near the peak of her breast, moving with deliciously deliberate slowness. When they grazed her nipple, Chloe sighed and murmured something that sounded like his name.
By now his erection was so stiff it was painful. Eyes riveted on Chloe, he balled his fists with enough force to pulverize a granite boulder, and struggled to maintain control.
Her hand dropped limply to her side and her head lolled backward on the pillow, exposing the full length of her creamy throat. From its depths rose a needy whimper as her hips began to rock back and forth in a gentle but unmistakable motion.
Kal-El swallowed hard, knowing he couldn’t hold on for much longer. But he also knew it was too late to leave.
Her whimpers grew louder, and they were rapidly driving him to the edge and beyond. He felt a wild impulse to grab her, naked as she was, and make love to her a hundred feet above the city, in full view of everyone-then fly her to one of the many deserted tropical islands he’d discovered and make love to her again. He imagined how she’d look, stretched underneath him on a sandy beach as their intertwined bodies were washed by turquoise waves and serenaded by the surf.
Maybe, he thought feverishly, he’d keep her there, naked of course, so he could have her all to himself. He’d visit her every day, and she’d run to him happily, eager for more pleasure.
More than anything, he wanted to feel himself inside her. But he stubbornly refused to wake her up just to satisfy his own need. So, gritting his teeth, he resigned himself to the only alternative he had.
Chloe’s mouth opened slightly, and he heard a series of low sighs that almost sounded like panting as her hips lifted a bit higher. She let out one last, long sigh, and her body stilled.
Choking back a scream, Kal-El came hard into his trousers. He drew a deep, shuddering breath, and looked again at Chloe’s now-quiet form. From her peaceful face, it was obvious she’d slipped into a deep and restful sleep.
With painstaking caution, he tugged the sheets from under her body and drew them over her. He’d be joining her soon, but before then, there was something he needed to do.
Chloe’s suggestion that he adopt a secret identity had excited him far more than he’d wanted to let on. He’d never before considered the possibility that he could actually pass himself off as a normal human, and of course Jor-El had never suggested it to him, either.
He frowned, and his hands, which had been straightening the brocaded coverlet over Chloe, stilled. He was fairly certain Jor-El wouldn’t approve what he was about to do.
“I love my father.” Chloe’s words from earlier that evening echoed in his brain. “But that doesn’t mean I let him run my life.”
He bit his lip thoughtfully. Until now, he hadn’t really understood what she’d meant. He’d never really thought he had a life of his own.
Chloe had given him that. Kal-El smiled down at her sleeping form, his heart bursting with gratitude. For the first time, he’d found someone who made him feel as if he belonged. With Chloe, more than with anyone else, he could be himself.
He still wasn’t sure which path he’d eventually choose, hers, Jor-El’s, or some other way-but now, he knew the choice was up to him, not his father.
And tonight would be a step in that direction.
It didn’t take long for Kal-El to change into a clean set of clothes and head out into the city. It took a bit longer to find what he was looking for, but once he had, he was back in Chloe’s chamber, standing once more over her bed, feeling a sense of accomplishment.
She’d rolled onto her side, and her face was turned away from him. Cautiously, he lifted the sheets and slipped in behind her. She mumbled drowsily as he snuggled closer and hooked an arm around her waist.
He grinned, glad that he hadn’t woken Chloe. She’d need all the rest she could get.
Tomorrow was going to be a very big day.
Oh, and remember when I said this would be the last chapter? I lied. *Blushes* Turns out Kal-El and Chloe had something else in mind. Those two can be pretty stubborn, bless 'em. *G*
In case you don't remember where we left our heroes three months ago (!), Chloe had just surprised her favorite Sultan with a piece of Kryptonite. Did she do it on purpose? Will Kal-El recover? And, above all, will someone have to be undressed? (apeygirl, thanks for the inspiration. :D ) Find out the answers to these questions--plus much, much more--in this chappie!
Feedback > a triple chocolate sundae. Yum! :)
NOTE: As always, this fic is lovingly dedicated to my friend butifulyletdown. I hope you're feeling better, Zaye!
Read the last chapter here.
Read the whole story from the beginning here.
Chapter Six
Chloe cried out in horror as she watched Kal-El’s tall figure crash into a set of shelves and topple to the earthen floor amid a torrent of spilled pots and tableware. He landed on his back with an audible thud, his long arms flung out so far that they nearly touched the opposite ends of the tiny room.
Chloe paid no attention to the smashed crockery; her eyes were riveted on Kal-El’s pale face, which was bathed in the poisonous green radiance that had suddenly erupted from the rock in her outstretched palm.
She stared at the glowing stone as if it had suddenly turned into a scorpion in her hands. It hardly seemed possible that it was the same nondescript lump that had sat on her father’s bookshelf for so many years.
Of course, only a few hours earlier, when Kal-El had revealed the truth about himself, he’d explained that it was actually a piece of his home world. She should have known there was a lot more to it than met the eye, but never in her wildest nightmares would she have imagined that it was a killer in disguise.
And there was no doubt in her mind that it was. Looking back at the Sultan, she saw blood seep out of a jagged cut left on his forehead by one of the sharp-edged pottery shards. Dark lines crawled up his neck from above the collar of his black tunic and spread over his marble cheeks, covering his face like a spider’s web. Kal-El, the indestructible, was dying.
A jolt of panic went through her. For once in her life, she didn’t stop to ask questions; heart pounding, she dropped the bundle of clothes slung over her other arm and, with all her might, chucked the cursed rock as far into her father’s chamber as she could. She heard it hit the far wall; at the same instant, the green glow was snuffed out as abruptly as a candle’s flame. Whether its light was extinguished because of the impact or because of the distance from Kal-El, she didn’t know and for now, she didn’t care.
Now that the room where she stood was plunged back into gloom, Kal-El’s inert form was lit only by the few stray moonbeams that managed to filter through the chinks in the closed shutters covering the chamber’s sole window. She sank to her knees next to him and searched anxiously for any signs of improvement, hoping against hope that getting rid of the stone would do some good.
In the darkness, Kal-El’s tall body, dressed in his black tunic, leggings, and caftan, was virtually invisible, except for the pearl sigil embroidered on his tunic. It gleamed on his chest in the moonlight, and it was absolutely still.
Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she bent over him, dabbing gently at the cut on his forehead with the hem of her silken skirt. She held an ear to his chest, listening for any sign of life; hearing none, she straightened and looked at his too-peaceful face.
Chloe stifled a sob. “Please, Kal-El,” she choked out, her vision blurred by sudden tears. “Please get better.”
Unable to resist the urge to touch him, she placed one shaking hand on top of his chest, as hesitantly as if they hadn’t made love just a few brief hours earlier.
“I need you,” she added.
She cut herself off, blinking in surprise. Where had that come from? How could someone she’d just met mean that much to her?
And yet…he did. Until she’d met him, she’d felt like a fish out of water in this desert kingdom. Even her father had a hard time understanding why her dreams and goals were so different from those of most other women. But Kal-El understood, she mused, searching his face anxiously for any sign of movement. In a way, he’d set her free because with him, more than anyone else, she could be herself.
“I need you,” she repeated slowly, and knew she meant it.
As if in response, Kal-El abruptly drew in a sharp breath, startling Chloe into snatching back her hand. The pearl sigil began to rise and fall in a gentle, reassuring rhythm and, to Chloe’s boundless relief, she saw that his cut had healed and the ugly dark lines marring his face were fading rapidly, although his eyes were still shut. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain away.
Now that she knew Kal-El would be alright, she began to wonder nervously if he’d heard what she’d just said. She sincerely hoped not.
“I meant to say, we need you,” she backtracked firmly. “Everyone. The whole kingdom.”
His eyelids fluttered open. His glance, bright as ever in spite of the darkness, was riveted on Chloe, but he said nothing.
She chose to take that as a sign that her impromptu confession had gone unnoticed. Relaxing, she smiled down at him. “You’re alright,” she observed, unnecessarily.
He propped himself up on one elbow and stretched out his free hand to take one of hers. “Yes,” he replied with a note of disbelief in his voice, as if “alright” was the last thing he’d expected to be. His eyes never left her face. “I am.”
“I got rid of that-that thing,” she added, nodding toward her father’s room. “I only wanted to show it to you because I thought you'd be interested in seeing it. Why didn’t you tell me it was so dangerous to you?”
When Kal-El continued to search her face, Chloe tilted her head, puzzled. “What is it?”
Without warning, he burst into a grin wide enough to light up the entire city. “You didn’t know.”
“Of course not, how could I….” Chloe’s head jerked up in sudden realization. “You thought I planned this.” She stared at him, numb with shock. “You thought I was trying to kill you.”
The Sultan’s grin vanished as she recoiled from him and pushed herself to her feet, stung by the thought that Kal-El had believed, even for one instant, that she was capable of cold-blooded murder.
Somewhere deep inside her, she heard a small voice whisper that only yesterday she’d accused the Sultan of the same thing. But that, she thought angrily, had been totally different. She’d had plenty of good reasons for believing that. Kal-El, on the other hand, had jumped to a conclusion for no reason whatsoever.
Well, except that she’d called him a dictator. And made it plain that she hated dictators. But still.
Her whole body tensed as she watched Kal-El rise, moving with his usual fluid grace, obviously none the worse for wear. He reached for her shoulders; breathing hard, she stepped back to evade his grasp, and nearly tripped over the hem of her long silken skirt.
Two warm hands steadied her gently. “I didn’t want to believe that,” he said gravely, meeting her gaze. “I almost told you about the Kryptonite before. If I had, this would never have happened. I’m sorry.”
The quiet apology drained away her anger. Standing perfectly still, she let him hold her while she considered how she might feel if she were in his position.
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” she admitted at last. “You had every right in the world to protect your secret.”
Her lips curved into a small, rueful smile. “Especially from someone like me. Kings and freethinkers don’t usually get along.”
Kal-El’s head bent closer to hers. In the moonlight, his eyes shone, and what Chloe saw in them made her heart beat faster.
“I should have known you’d never betray me,” he murmured, and ran his fingers up and down her cheek, brushing off the last remnants of her tears with his thumb.
“And by the way,” he added, a note of humor creeping into his voice, “I like the way you think.”
Under his gaze, Chloe felt the shock of Kal-El’s near-death experience melt away. Revived a little, in spite of the late hour, she cocked an amused eyebrow at him. “Isn’t a freethinking dictator a contradiction in terms?”
He conceded the point with a low chuckle. “Maybe.”
Her smile deepened. “Hmmm. We’ll have to work on that.” She peered around the poorly-lit room in search of the bundle she’d dropped a few minutes earlier. “Which is why we’re here, come to think of it.”
He looked at her with a puzzled crease in his forehead. “It is?”
Chloe glanced in his direction and continued to scan the room. “You asked me to help you blend in, remember?” she said. “I had an idea. I’ll show you as soon as I locate Dad’s cloak. It’s around here somewhere.”
Instantly, Kal-El zeroed in on a spot near the overturned bookcase. Stepping past her, he retrieved a tattered garment from the floor, straightened, and shook it out in the moonlight.
The dark, hooded cloak was dotted with seams and patches, some of which, Chloe saw with chagrin, were beginning to come apart. She’d never learned how to mend clothes properly because that would have taken time from her work at the printer’s shop. Gabriel sometimes threatened, jokingly, that one day he’d have to marry a seamstress, but he’d never once asked her to spend more time at home.
As she eyed the sorry-looking thing, Chloe felt a sudden surge of gratitude for the tolerance her father had always shown her. He might not understand her, but in his own way, he was one of a kind, just as Kal-El was.
The Sultan, meanwhile, was staring at her in blank confusion. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Chloe snorted softly and put her hands on her hips. “What else? Try it on, Your Majesty.”
Seeing the doubtful expression on his face, she nearly laughed out loud. “Oh come on. Plain homespun won’t make you break out in hives. If you could break out in hives.”
He made a face as he swung the garment over his shoulders. Although Gabriel wasn’t a short man, his cloak barely reached Kal-El’s knees. Its rough texture sharply contrasted with the soft silks and satins of the Sultan’s outfit.
Kal-El ran exploratory fingers over the front of the cloak, stopping here and there to rub at her hasty repair jobs. “So this is homespun?” He looked up. “Did you make it?”
Chloe was glad her father hadn’t heard that question. “Not exactly,” she replied, struggling to keep her face straight at the thought of Gabriel laughing himself silly. “I, um, got it from the printer’s wife in exchange for teaching her the alphabet. She wants to learn how to read what her husband writes.”
She eyed him critically. “It’s a little shorter on you than I’d hoped, but the important thing is this.”
Stepping forward, she took hold of the cloak’s hood and, rising on tiptoe, reached up to draw it over Kal-El’s puzzled head. She backed off, noting with satisfaction that in the gloom, the Sultan’s face was almost completely concealed.
Only his eyes were visible. They met Chloe’s with a look of almost comic bewilderment.
“Don’t you see?” she prompted, giving him a meaningful look. “No one would ever guess you’re the Sultan.”
She felt a satisfied twinge as those eyes widened in understanding. White teeth glimmered in the faint light as he grinned back at her. “A disguise.”
Chloe smiled. “More than that. This is a way for you to actually be someone else, at least for a while. The cloak is just part of it. I could give you a whole new identity.” She paused to let the idea sink in.
He blew out a resigned sigh. “I can’t turn myself into someone normal, Chloe.”
“I never said you could,” she agreed calmly. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t want you to. You’re an amazing force for good in the world, Kal-El. I would hate to see you turn your back on that.”
The cloaked figure faced her, motionless, and Chloe knew he was listening closely. “But there’s nothing wrong about acting as if you’re normal,” she continued, using every ounce of persuasion she had. “You know-shopping for stuff, chatting with people, maybe even working side-by-side with them now and then? That’s the secret to blending in.”
She held her breath, waiting for a reply. If Kal-El was willing to try living as an ordinary mortal, it would be a huge step in the right direction. The more he got to know people, the less he might like the idea of being worshipped by them.
Kal-E nodded quickly. “That sounds good.”
Hearing the eagerness in his voice, Chloe held back a shout of triumph. The first step was a success.
Unfortunately, the next step was going to be a little bit harder.
“Who knows?” she replied, trying not to sound too hopeful. “You might decide you like it better than being a king.”
Kal-El stripped off the cloak, folded it carefully, and laid it on the well-scrubbed surface of the plain table. “I might,” he agreed quietly, casting her a warning look. “But I don’t think Jor-El would.”
Which was, Chloe reflected morosely, exactly the problem. How she’d get around it, she had no idea, and right now she was too tired to care.
“We’ll need to find you better-fitting clothes,” she said, stifling a yawn, overcome at last by exhaustion. It had been a very long, very unforgettable day.
“Let me take care of that,” he replied briskly, crossing over to her. “You need to go to bed.”
In one smooth motion he scooped her up into his arms. Chloe tucked her head into the hollow of his shoulder, content, for once, to let Kal-El take charge.
He cradled her next to his chest, holding her as lightly as if she were made of eggshells. “Let’s go home.”
Chloe didn’t bother to point out that she was already home. Instead, she relaxed against him drowsily and watched through half-closed eyes as they rose into the air, passed through the opening in the ceiling, and headed into the night sky.
They moved towards the palace at a gentle pace. Beneath them mud brick roofs and zigzag streets slowly slipped past Chloe’s feet, gradually giving way to the courtyards and fountains of the grander residences near the royal precincts.
She was lazily admiring the moonlit sheen reflecting off the stuccoed domes of the approaching palace when Kal-El inclined his head close to hers.
“By the way,” he began, his voice tickling her ear, “I heard what you said. About, um, needing me.”
Instantly Chloe was wide awake. “Said?” she echoed, trying to mask the panic in her voice. “I don’t remember saying anything. Except-I just asked you to get better. That’s all.”
There was a pause, during which they drifted over the Sultan’s private garden and headed towards a series of arched windows that, Chloe knew, belonged to her own chamber. “Oh,” Kal-El said after a minute. “Oh well. I guess I was mistaken.”
She glanced up at him doubtfully, but he was looking straight ahead, as if the task of floating the two of them through one of the windows required his full attention. She was still trying to catch his eye when they emerged in the chamber, close to the magnificent overstuffed bed in which Chloe had awoken that morning.
One look at its fluffy pillows and comfortable down mattress was enough to make Chloe happily table her suspicions. The brocaded coverlet was turned down invitingly, and soft satin sheets gleamed in the light of the enormous candle that had been left flickering on her nightstand. Her maid must have been busy this evening-which relieved Chloe, since it meant that she’d recovered from the bad fright she’d gotten courtesy of Jor-El’s magical crystal.
With infinite care, Kal-El laid Chloe on the mattress, and she sighed, succumbing to temptation. Sinking gratefully into its deliciously soft depths, she let the smooth sheets caress her tired muscles.
She looked up expectantly at Kal-El, who was still standing over her. “Aren’t you going to join me?” she asked wistfully, although she was already more than half asleep.
The candlelight glimmered on his face as he smiled down at her. “Later,” he replied. “I have some work to do first.”
His promise pleased her more than she’d expected. Even if nothing at all happened that night, she liked knowing that Kal-El would be sharing her bed. Because it meant that tomorrow, for the first time, they would start the day together.
A long yawn punctuated her thoughts, and she settled her head more comfortably on top of the stack of pillows, thinking of tomorrow.
Soft laughter rippled the air above her as her friend and lover leaned forward to brush his lips against her cheek. Chloe sighed contentedly, and let her eyelids drift shut.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Kal-El listened to the mingled sounds of Chloe’s breath and her heartbeat as they each slowed into a peaceful rhythm. As hard as it had been, he was glad he’d resisted the urge to climb into bed with her. He could go without sleep for months at a time if necessary, but the same wasn’t true of Chloe. He knew she was exhausted and, more than anything right now, she needed rest.
He eyed her elaborate court outfit worriedly. It didn’t look too comfortable. That thick golden collar, for instance, must weigh her down. It might even constrict her breathing.
Moving more rapidly than a human eye could see, he removed the collar and her sandals. Chloe murmured a little in her sleep and fell quiet again.
Exhaling softly in relief, Kal-El turned his attention to her form-fitting bodice and long, full skirt. They might be a problem, too.
Of course, he could always summon the maid to undress her. But, he mused, letting his eyes wander over the satiny smoothness of her skin and watching that tight bodice rise and fall, the maid was slower than he was. She might wake her.
He nodded to himself and fought back a small twinge of conscience. After all, this was for Chloe’s own good, not because he wanted to see her naked in the candlelight.
Well, not only because he wanted to see her naked in the candlelight. But that wasn’t the point. Not at all.
A split-second later, he was feasting his eyes on a wonderland of bare, shapely curves. She lay on her back on top of the sheets, one arm thrown across the pillows and the other draped over her stomach, her skin softly illuminated by the candle’s glow.
Sinking down onto the edge of the bed next to her, he admired her full breasts, slim waist, and the gentle swelling of her hips as if seeing them for the first time. The flickering shadows danced over her legs, teasing him with brief glimpses of the glistening curls protecting her sex.
As he’d suspected, Chloe looked beautiful in the candlelight. But then, she’d looked beautiful in the daylight too.
Unable to resist, he stretched out a hand to stroke her breast, careful to keep his touch as light as possible. When she didn’t stir, he let his fingers wander to her side. They traced a slow, intoxicating path down to her hips and rested there.
He flattened his palm against her skin, drinking in its coolness. Underneath, he could feel the blood thrumming in her veins, vibrant and bursting with life. She was a universe of desire, waiting to be explored.
Already he could feel himself growing hard. Setting his jaw resolutely, he lifted his hand and noticed that it was trembling.
It took all his strength to fight against the urge to take matters further. That, he told himself sternly, would be unforgivably selfish.
Deciding that he’d better go before the situation spun out of control, he got up, grimacing at the stiffness of the erection pushing against his trousers. He stared down at her tranquil face, framed by a halo of golden hair, and remembered the words she’d spoken to him as he’d recovered consciousness in her father’s house. Whether she denied saying them or not, those three little words had actually made him grateful for that chunk of Kryptonite.
“I need you.” To hear those words, he’d have been willing to face a whole mountain of Kryptonite.
“For what it’s worth, my lady Chloe,” he whispered to her sleeping form, “I need you, too.”
He reached out to tuck her in for the night when he heard her give a low moan. Freezing in his tracks, he watched her squirm on top of the sheets, and hoped, guiltily, that he hadn’t disturbed her too much.
He exhaled a relieved sigh when he saw that her eyes remained tight shut. She was definitely still fast asleep, but she continued to shift restlessly on the bed and her lips moved soundlessly, as if she were having a conversation with someone in her dreams.
Fascinated, Kal-El continued to watch as she let out another soft moan. So slowly that he almost didn’t notice at first, the arm resting on her stomach inched upwards, then lifted slightly to allow her hand to settle on one breast.
Kal-El felt his mouth go dry. At the same time, beads of sweat moistened his brow. He ran his tongue over his lips, unable to look away.
Lazily her fingers fondled the area near the peak of her breast, moving with deliciously deliberate slowness. When they grazed her nipple, Chloe sighed and murmured something that sounded like his name.
By now his erection was so stiff it was painful. Eyes riveted on Chloe, he balled his fists with enough force to pulverize a granite boulder, and struggled to maintain control.
Her hand dropped limply to her side and her head lolled backward on the pillow, exposing the full length of her creamy throat. From its depths rose a needy whimper as her hips began to rock back and forth in a gentle but unmistakable motion.
Kal-El swallowed hard, knowing he couldn’t hold on for much longer. But he also knew it was too late to leave.
Her whimpers grew louder, and they were rapidly driving him to the edge and beyond. He felt a wild impulse to grab her, naked as she was, and make love to her a hundred feet above the city, in full view of everyone-then fly her to one of the many deserted tropical islands he’d discovered and make love to her again. He imagined how she’d look, stretched underneath him on a sandy beach as their intertwined bodies were washed by turquoise waves and serenaded by the surf.
Maybe, he thought feverishly, he’d keep her there, naked of course, so he could have her all to himself. He’d visit her every day, and she’d run to him happily, eager for more pleasure.
More than anything, he wanted to feel himself inside her. But he stubbornly refused to wake her up just to satisfy his own need. So, gritting his teeth, he resigned himself to the only alternative he had.
Chloe’s mouth opened slightly, and he heard a series of low sighs that almost sounded like panting as her hips lifted a bit higher. She let out one last, long sigh, and her body stilled.
Choking back a scream, Kal-El came hard into his trousers. He drew a deep, shuddering breath, and looked again at Chloe’s now-quiet form. From her peaceful face, it was obvious she’d slipped into a deep and restful sleep.
With painstaking caution, he tugged the sheets from under her body and drew them over her. He’d be joining her soon, but before then, there was something he needed to do.
Chloe’s suggestion that he adopt a secret identity had excited him far more than he’d wanted to let on. He’d never before considered the possibility that he could actually pass himself off as a normal human, and of course Jor-El had never suggested it to him, either.
He frowned, and his hands, which had been straightening the brocaded coverlet over Chloe, stilled. He was fairly certain Jor-El wouldn’t approve what he was about to do.
“I love my father.” Chloe’s words from earlier that evening echoed in his brain. “But that doesn’t mean I let him run my life.”
He bit his lip thoughtfully. Until now, he hadn’t really understood what she’d meant. He’d never really thought he had a life of his own.
Chloe had given him that. Kal-El smiled down at her sleeping form, his heart bursting with gratitude. For the first time, he’d found someone who made him feel as if he belonged. With Chloe, more than with anyone else, he could be himself.
He still wasn’t sure which path he’d eventually choose, hers, Jor-El’s, or some other way-but now, he knew the choice was up to him, not his father.
And tonight would be a step in that direction.
It didn’t take long for Kal-El to change into a clean set of clothes and head out into the city. It took a bit longer to find what he was looking for, but once he had, he was back in Chloe’s chamber, standing once more over her bed, feeling a sense of accomplishment.
She’d rolled onto her side, and her face was turned away from him. Cautiously, he lifted the sheets and slipped in behind her. She mumbled drowsily as he snuggled closer and hooked an arm around her waist.
He grinned, glad that he hadn’t woken Chloe. She’d need all the rest she could get.
Tomorrow was going to be a very big day.