justprompts: Confession
Prompt: I have a confession to make.
Absolution
"Frost."
"Luthor."
She slinks around my desk like a mongoose, come to take down her cobra. I expect her to straddle my lap, but she doesn't, just leans back with her long legs between mine and her arms crossed at her chest. I find myself continually surprised by Lena, which is refreshing.
"Did you want something?"
"You dream about me."
I stare at her impassively for a minute. Lena has no particular abilities that I know of. Her father probably experimented on her as a child, but nothing stuck. I raise my eyebrow.
"Some of your women work for me. You talk in your sleep."
Ah. "They're not my women." I laugh. "Besides, you don't want to know what I dream about."
"Try me." She wants me. I can feel it rolling off of her in waves, but the lust is tinged with honest curiosity and I decide to humor her. When has confession ever hurt anyone?
"I dream about you dead, buried in a mountain of transparent ice, naked. People walk around you, staring like you're some sort of exhibit." If what I say bothers her, she doesn't let it show. This isn't surprising, but I enjoy it anyway. "Sometimes you're still alive, and you look at me and I know I'm the one who put you there."
She laughs. "You're not trapping me, Frost. I make my own way."
"Who says I'm worried about trapping you?"
Now she straddles my lap. "Your sister hates me because you care." She presses a fingertip to my lip. "You don't have to say it. I'm sure as hell never going to say it to you. There's nothing you can do to trap me. I'm a Luthor."
Because names mean so much. I'm a Frost, for what that's worth, in a world of dead cities and living names.
She reaches in and pulls my zipper down. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"No sex dreams? I'm disappointed."
I slide my hands up her thighs and pull her panties aside.
"Who needs dreams?"
Absolution
"Frost."
"Luthor."
She slinks around my desk like a mongoose, come to take down her cobra. I expect her to straddle my lap, but she doesn't, just leans back with her long legs between mine and her arms crossed at her chest. I find myself continually surprised by Lena, which is refreshing.
"Did you want something?"
"You dream about me."
I stare at her impassively for a minute. Lena has no particular abilities that I know of. Her father probably experimented on her as a child, but nothing stuck. I raise my eyebrow.
"Some of your women work for me. You talk in your sleep."
Ah. "They're not my women." I laugh. "Besides, you don't want to know what I dream about."
"Try me." She wants me. I can feel it rolling off of her in waves, but the lust is tinged with honest curiosity and I decide to humor her. When has confession ever hurt anyone?
"I dream about you dead, buried in a mountain of transparent ice, naked. People walk around you, staring like you're some sort of exhibit." If what I say bothers her, she doesn't let it show. This isn't surprising, but I enjoy it anyway. "Sometimes you're still alive, and you look at me and I know I'm the one who put you there."
She laughs. "You're not trapping me, Frost. I make my own way."
"Who says I'm worried about trapping you?"
Now she straddles my lap. "Your sister hates me because you care." She presses a fingertip to my lip. "You don't have to say it. I'm sure as hell never going to say it to you. There's nothing you can do to trap me. I'm a Luthor."
Because names mean so much. I'm a Frost, for what that's worth, in a world of dead cities and living names.
She reaches in and pulls my zipper down. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"No sex dreams? I'm disappointed."
I slide my hands up her thighs and pull her panties aside.
"Who needs dreams?"