Title: Stranglehold
Author:
ivorykissPairing: RedK!Clark-Chloe
Rating: NC-17 (language, graphic sex)
Spoilers: references to Crimson
Disclaimers: I don’t own Clark, Chloe or a little red rock from outer space; that makes me unbelievably sad. The title is obviously inspired from Stranglehold by Ted Nugent, but the moodlets are from Greedy Fly by Bush.
A/N: Those evol little fanfic faeries won again. ;p Comments, critiques always welcome.
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always closer to the flame
ever closer to the blade
Chloe closed her eyes and struggled to remember how to breathe.
It never really was a question of if this day would come, only just a matter of when.
The soft rustling of the papers and photos scattered around her little makeshift desk had alerted her to Clark’s arrival but Chloe had been so deeply engrossed with the files Ollie had ‘borrowed’ for her that she had only absently glanced up, to give him a smile in greeting, and hadn’t been prepared for the rush of heavy heat that threatened to overwhelm her.
Her fingers tingled as they stumbled on the keyboard of her souped-up little laptop and Chloe had to force them to speed back up, typing blindly as her mind raced frantically.
Clark. God. Clark.
Clark was on red kryptonite.
Again.
And right now it didn’t matter if his exposure was inadvertent or deliberate because...
Because for as much as Chloe thought she had been, she just hadn’t been prepared for the sudden bite of razor-bladed need that skipped sadistically across every cell of her body, hadn’t been prepared for the vibrating warmth that spread in jagged, languid pulses that constricted her throat with adrenaline and desire.
Clark. God. Clark.
Her heart pounded furiously in her chest and Chloe trembled as that constricting adrenaline and desire fought and coupled within her traitorous body.
Chloe risked another glance his way and had to bite at her lip to keep a small moan from escaping.
He was some wicked fantasy come to life. Her deepest, darkest desire wrapped up in black leather and old faded jeans. Everything she had forbid herself to want because...
Clark was her best friend.
Her best friend that who, while occasionally thought about it, seemed to really not want her.
As Lois once told her in a drunken snipe, Chloe Sullivan was firmly in Clark Kent’s backpocket and everyone knew it.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as hurt and anger threw itself into the heady mixture coursing through her body.
It was so unfair.
So totally and so completely and so fucking unfair.
Clark stared at her with flashing eyes and a smirk tugged at one corner of that sinfully lush mouth of his as he leaned insolently, carelessly against the doorframe of the Talon apartment and his nostrils flared as he took a deep and obvious sniff.
Unmistakable crimson sparked hotly in the depths of his eyes and that smirk grew into a wicked smile.
Chloe couldn’t suppress the shiver than ran up her spine and closed her eyes against that tempting flash of red.
The last time Clark was buzzing on the effects of red kryptonite he had let her and a roomful of other people, know the score on their ‘friendship’.
But that was then and this was now and…
And right now they weren’t in a roomful of other people.
They were alone.
Chloe swallowed hard as she felt the air shift subtly around her and knew that he was moving closer and oh fuckfuckfuck; now she could smell him.
More warmth inundated her, left her moist and throbbing as she was surrounded by an amazing, dizzy combination of leather and hay. Of protective sunshine and promising dusk and Chloe trembled as he leaned over her, his large, impossibly strong hands sliding carefully, slowly across her shoulders and down her arms until he had her bracketed between his own.
With every shiver, every shudder, Chloe knew her body betrayed her as it prepared itself for him, softening, the very cells in her body awakened and surrendering to the essence of Clark stripped into something so raw and primal.
She was torn between an angry impulse to find a hunk of green kryptonite and some elemental yearning to fall to her knees in worship.
Chloe opened her eyes when he nuzzled at her temple and she stared blankly at her laptop screen, barely registering that the word ‘want’ was typed over and over.
Clark laughed softly into her hair, “Do you know what I want Chloe?”
And she forgot how to breathe again as he brushed his lips softly against the rapid pulse at her temple and whispered.
“I want to know what it feels like to come inside you.”
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