Seven Sins - M/R - Chloe/Bruce
Title: Seven Sins
Series: sarcastic_fina's Seven Sinful Ships
Category: Smallville/Batman: The Dark Knight
Word Count: 1,356
Ship: Chloe/Bruce
Sin: Lust
Summary: She moved like liquid fire...
Previous: Lust - Clois, Lust - Chlollie,
She moved like liquid fire, her curves sliding beneath her satin dress, whisper soft and so thin he could make out the indent of her hips, the slope of her thighs. His throat went dry as he watched her, wanting her from afar. It was his alter-ego who’d managed to catch her attention, however. Batman was ever-present in the constant turmoil of Gotham and it seemed so was Chloe Sullivan.
Her head fell back, a laugh rich with warmth escaping her pink lips. She held on to the shoulder of Lieutenant Gordan, as if using him to keep herself upright as he managed to make her wipe tears of laughter from her eyes. Bruce’s grip tightened on his champagne stem. In all his years of parading as the Dark Knight, he’d put all his focus on the building of Gotham, but just once he wanted to take something for himself, to have her in all her beautiful and intoxicating glory.
Knocking back his drink, he managed to slip away undetected and was sweeping across Gotham in all of its dark glory with a vengeance. He needed to vent, to become that other part of himself for a moment. Bruce had something to live up to, a façade. He could only take, have and discard when he wore the billionaire mask. But the Batman was without boundaries, or so it would seem.
Hours later, he found her in a darkened alley; how cliché. She was no damsel in distress, however. Instead, she’d paused in her walk home, searching through her purse for something. She was still dressed in a gown of complete sin, black as the night itself and barely decent in his eyes.
He landed behind her silently, his eyes wandering from her feet to the top of her blonde coiffed head. She’d arrived months ago, full of eager enthusiasm to use the written word to turn Gotham on its head. He hadn’t had a shred of hope for her until she started at the top and began tearing all of the well hidden secrets of both high and low society apart with structured ease. She’d been on his mind since and on Batman’s radar from the very first mace incident with a disgruntled “fan.”
“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” she called out, still immersed in the depths of her purse.
“You’re not as safe as you think you,” he replied in a growl.
She turned her head over her shoulder, cocked a brow. “From them or you?”
Temptation dripped from her lips in a manner that had all rational thought escaping him. He had her pinned to the dirty brick wall in seconds, his cape still billowing out as their eyes caught. He expected shock, fear, anything but raw passion.
She reached up, her delicate forefinger tracing his lips before her thumb stroked his cowl-covered chin. “With all the attention you put on saving this city, I wonder if you have any to spare…”
He gripped her hips tight, pulled them in close until she was pressed tight enough to him that he could nearly feel those soft curves and firm breasts through his suit. Her hand fell, guiding his own beneath the slit of her dress, along her thigh to find her scarce of panties. His shoulders shook with the knowledge, a powerful desire to have her right there, right then, grabbed hold.
Her head fell back, her eyes searing into his. “I see you… Night after night, doing your best to rid this city of the scum that seems to multiply like bacteria…” Her lips curled wryly. “I see you watching me… When was the last time you saw me walk into a dark alley for something as pointless as looking through my purse?” She slung an arm around his neck, daring him closer. “You think I haven’t learned yet? You think I don’t know where you are, what you want...?”
He hadn’t realized she’d let go of his hand until he felt her other palm against the groin of his suit, sliding inside to flick a few things undone, releasing him from the confines. His fingers stroked along the top of her butt, thumb tracing her hipbone delicately.
She licked her lips, her green eyes darkening. “After everything you do for Gotham, what does it give you in return?” Her hand wrapped around his length, drawing him out into the cool air. “What do you want?”
With grit teeth, he growled and slammed his body against hers. His hand gripped her thigh, hiked her up until her legs wrapped around his waist. He tossed her dress to one side, exposing her to him and slid his gloved hand between to cup her, hard. She arched, her head falling back, her eyes drooping closed. His mouth attached to her throat, marking her, scoring her with his teeth as he suckled her alabaster skin between his lips.
He plunged two fingers inside her already wet heat, thumb flicking her clit until she moaned, pleaded and then he was thrusting up with purpose, tattooing himself deep inside her. His hands were bruising, holding everywhere. He pulled the straps of her dress out of the way with his teeth while she shrugged the entire upper half down to her waist. He took her breast into his mouth, tongue twisting her nipple as she writhed and moaned for him.
The pleasure of it all was blinding. He forgot about the city around him, the dirt riddling dark corners. All he had was soft legs around his waist, fingers digging into his neck and shoulders, bruised lips that met his just as fiercely and a willing body he’d been lusting after from a distance.
“More, please,” she begged, she whimpered.
She came twice, her body arching up toward him, thrusting her breasts into his mouth as she cried out. He continued to thrust into her, pumping his hips against her as she continued to fly and pull him in closer, deeper. One of her heels slipped off, crashed to the ground behind them. Rain began to drip from the sky, sluicing down her bare arms and forcing its way into his eyes. He couldn’t care less.
As she orgasmed again, tightening and spasming all around him, he finally hit the precipice and let go. While his entire body clenched tight, hers went soft in his arms. She stroked his back, massaged her lips against his as he fought to breathe, and murmured nonsensical things. But her voice, so soft and gentle, brought him back to earth with the promise of more, of the incredible that could be in the future.
He kissed the dark mark he’d left against her neck, light now, reminiscent, and let her down to her feet, holding her upright as she wobbled on her one heel. She braced herself with his shoulders, hooked her shoe back on and then looked up at him, less confidant and more dreamy eyed and languid now.
Reality set in quickly and the mask of stoicism returned. His shoulders went rigid while his expression darkened once more, even as he focused on fixing his suit to proper order.
She grinned knowingly. “Relax, I’m not asking for a ring and ceremony,” she told him lightly. Running a hand through her hair, she shrugged her dress back on and picked up the purse she’d dropped to the wet cement. “Sometimes… a couple of lonely hearts have something in common.” She winked, turning toward the street that led to her apartment. “I’ll see you around, Bruce.”
He watched her walk away, his expression wrought with confusion. He’d never done this before, never began what resembled a strictly sexual relationship with someone in his much darker, bitter persona. But there it was, there she was, and he knew he’d be seeing more of her in the time to come. He couldn’t be upset about that. If nothing else, his lust for the affable reporter that seasoned his once nightmarish sleep was now a possibility.
It wasn’t until she was long gone that he realized she’d used his real name.
[ Next: Lust - Chloe/Dean.]