Title: Nick of Time (1/1)
Author: sinecure
Character/Pairing: Chloe/Lex
Rating: R (Adult)
Genre: PWP
Summary: Chloe and Lex are trapped and facing death, so they have The Sex. What else could they do?
Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville.
A/N: This was written for the 10th biannual Porn Battle (Ten Big Ones) on LiveJournal. No beta because that's how I rolled. I also wrote a Chloe/Oliver fic: And So Eager, and a Sookie/Eric fic: Sparking Into Life. /pimping
Chloe swirls her tongue around Lex's cock, eyes rising to his. She makes a big show of sliding him into her mouth and moaning like it's the best thing she's ever tasted, like cookies and crème and a hot fudge sundae all rolled into one with a tall coffee on the side.
She pretends Lex's cock is sunshine and puppies and everything is coming up rainbows.
It's not like he doesn't know better.
Their roles in this farce are mapped out before them, they're only playing their parts; Lex with a grunt and a buck of his hips, her with a moan of desire, escaping without her consent, real in its intensity and the deep down throbbing in her folds. They both know that these are their last hours, and that the person holding them here is going to kill them as soon as he returns.
Chloe's wet and Lex is hard. He tightens his hands in her hair, popping his cock free of her mouth, then drops to his knees.
There's heat in his eyes as he closes the distance between them and it's sparking something in her belly. A long-dead feeling she's purposely let go of. Desire serves one purpose, and that always leads her down painful paths. Then his mouth covers hers and their hands are desperate, everywhere, peeling off clothes and shoving them out of the way, making room for hands and mouths and his cock pressing against her stomach.
It's warm and sticky with his fluid and hers.
The throbbing intensifies and she growls as she loosens his tie. The ends of his shirt hang open and loose on his chest, and she scrapes her nails down the bare expanse.
"Fuck this," she says in a rush, grabbing his cock and squeezing.
Patience isn't her virtue and his eyes register that with a minor smirk. "Actually, I'll be fucking you with it," he counters, wrapping his heated fingers over hers.
She rolls her eyes and hastily shoves her skirt up with one hand. "Come on, come on." The feeling in her stomach is tight and knotted, it flutters around in a contrast of desire and anxiety. Adrenaline courses through her veins and loosens her inhibitions. She raises her blouse and tosses it to the floor.
Lex is watching her every movement, that same excitement running through him. He's stroking himself. The thought of Lex Luthor stroking his cock has fueled a few fantasies before now, and seeing it is even better. She wishes she could live long enough for this new reality to fuel more of her fantasies.
But time is short.
And they're going to die soon. She wants to die having experienced Lex as one should experience him; like a bottle of fine wine she's been saving for years taken out on the last day of her life. She wants to enjoy the full flavor of him in one big, final swallow.
Lex pushes her back on the floor and she smells dirt and dust and the old cement that's broken off in chunks a few yards away. A filthy warehouse is the last place she should be, the last place for them to be fucking, but she is and they are. He crawls over her and shoves his fingers inside.
"Wet," he murmurs, mouth occupying hers after a gasp slips free of her. "Hot and wet and tight."
She nods and lifts her legs on either side of him, grasping his cock to bring it to her, but he's still playing with her, twisting his fingers and rubbing her clit. "God, Lex, we don't have time. He'll be back any minute." Taking his face in her hands, she holds him still within inches of her own face. "Just fuck me."
His cock is there, hard against her hip, and he jerks forward at her words. Normally this would be something to catalog and file away, but it doesn't matter anymore.
They're going to die and there is no escaping.
Closing her eyes against this thought, she rocks her hips up, encouraging-- demanding he slide into her and he pulls his fingers free. Pulls her legs apart. Holds his cock in his hand and thrusts forward, hard and deep. All the way in with one stroke, and she's gasping with pleasure and wanting more.
"Jesus." Full and stretched after so long without, she revels in the feeling, revels in the slight pain and the immense pleasure. For right now, she's still alive. She grabs him and tries to roll them over, but he holds her still and drives into her. No tenderness, no pausing for her to adjust, nothing except his own pleasure in mind.
And that turns her on even more in a sick way.
"Harder," she grunts, voice barely audible above his own rhythmic noises, torn from his throat with every thrust of his cock into her. Each slide out, he draws in a short breath. It's erotic and satisfying in a way that should worry her, but doesn't. "Harder, Lex." She wants to feel all of it.
Every inch of him, every groan he can cause, every burn of the filthy, threadbare rug beneath her. Half dressed and fully fucked.
He doesn't speak in words, but she knows by his sharp intake of air that he likes his nipples rubbed. Knows his eyes almost close if she wraps her hands around his neck and jaw and rolls her hips higher.
Squeezing his cock is a delicious sensation for both of them, one that makes him slide faster inside her. His strokes grow shorter, his voice lower. Teeth gritted, he pounds into her, animalistic and needy.
"Chloe." One word, but full of so much meaning.
He's ready, he wants her to come, but she can't. Not yet.
Dropping her hand between them, she rubs her clit, watching his face as he watches her hand. It turns him on seeing his cock slide into her. It makes him groan and lose his rhythm.
"Come," he orders, as if that's all she needs; his bidding. He sets his palms flat on the floor to drive more fully into her. Longer strokes, deeper.
Pleasure spirals in her, and she feels it coming. The grip of her orgasm takes hold of her and she feels it rising. Higher and higher, tighter and tighter. Her fingers move faster, rubbing her clit against the bone, making her hips buck at the sensation. "Fuck. Feels so good." Her voice is breathless and choppy, her words broken by the need to moan with each stroke.
Each pass of his hard cock in her slick folds.
"Your cock... so hard," she gasps.
He loses his pace again and she catches up, seeing him close. His control is gone and his body moves faster. Harder. Deeper in her folds, sliding slickly. The buzzing heralding their captor sounds, but neither cares anymore.
"So wet. God, Chloe. So fucking tight." He's clenching his jaw, baring his teeth and rearing up. Thrusting once, then stopping. Again, then stopping. A third time and then he shouts and wildly bucks into her, his whole body shaking with the force of his orgasm, just as hers hits.
Lights so bright that she closes her eyes against them shine above them and footsteps ring out.
Lex collapses on her as she cries out. Waves of intense pleasure buffet her throbbing folds, swimming through her entire body as she clamps down on his cock, nails digging in and holding on.
"Lex-- fucking god. So good." She bucks and rides the spasms as they come, clenching and jerking around his cock. It's intense and severe and there's someone there with them, but she drops her arms and legs to the floor, not caring if it's god himself come to kick her into hell.
Lex shifts around, heated body sticky with sweat. He removes most of his weight from her. "Our rescue is here," he breathes, sounding tired and sated.
Chloe opens her eyes lazily, watching him settle beside her instead of getting up. "Just in the nick of time." She fights a yawn, feeling pleased and warm and comfortable right where she is.
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