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Thread: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 7th November 2015

  1. #51
    NS Full Member tatie87's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 12th December 2013

    At least Lex is in on Lionel's twisted plan. I'm curious to see what will happen between Lex/Chloe and Lionel/Chloe now.

  2. #52

    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 12th December 2013

    Loving this story, would really love an update!

  3. #53
    NS Senior Member Senior Member Ami Rose's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    Lionel is very creepy and perverted... pore Chloe! At least Lex is on her side! Loving it! Cant wait for more!
    *Coffee Break 9:00 to 5:00 Daily.
    *Heaven doesn't want me and hell is afraid I'll take over.
    *Are you crazy?
    *From zero to insane in 1.5 seconds!
    *If I agree with you, then we'd both be wrong!

  4. #54
    NS Senior Member Senior Member malugargula's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    What an amazing fic
    I'm really happy Lex saw the truth and now Chlex will destroy Lionel and bring back Chloe's family
    Lionel is a creepy bastard lol
    Malu

  5. #55
    NS Senior Member Senior Member HotCrossedBunny's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    So, anyone who is still interested in this fic might have noticed that I have been having problems writing it. It sort of went massively off plan and then I couldn't get it back on plan and well, it was all just a big mess. Then I had an idea. It is now planned out until chapter fifty and I think that it will work. So, I have started again. If you go back to the first page then you will see the new prologue, then I have deleted the chapters after that and will start from chapter one which I will hopefully be able to post below this later today. I hope that some people are still around and will read it and hopefully tell me their opinions. Thank-you for all of the reviews and support so far.

  6. #56
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    Definitely please continue. I am still enjoying the fic and I will come back and check on updates whenever I get a break from school and work. Love you for coming back.

  7. #57

    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    I've loved this fic since you started it, subscribed to get updates, and would really like for you to continue. Read the new prologue, and really love it so far. So will Lionel be in this story alot? Is that who Chloe is married to? Can't wait for the first chapter!

  8. #58
    NS Senior Member Senior Member malugargula's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    Hey! I'm totally interested
    Please please please give us more
    Malu

  9. #59
    NS Senior Member Senior Member HotCrossedBunny's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    Malugargula: Hello. Will do, just please don't hate me once you have read it.

    Jessicakadie: Yay, thank-you for sticking with it, it means a lot to me. Ummmm ... yes, he will be in it quite a lot.

    Trckyrcky: That's great, it will be here whenever you are ready. School can be hard!

  10. #60
    NS Senior Member Senior Member HotCrossedBunny's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    Chapter One

    The pale mid-morning light streamed through the stained glass window, casting a kaleidoscope of colours across the antique filled library and one lone figure. The fair young woman was sat in the centre of the room, back straight, hands folded in her lap, staring straight ahead, not at the antiques or the books but at the individual dust particles which danced before her. The room was filled with treasures of every description, and yet she continued to stare as if memorised at the only imperfection which even this house could not control.

    Her presence was known, there was a spread of food and drink at her elbow along with adequate reading material and a bell if she wanted anything and yet there she sat alone, waiting, her only companions the sound of the crackling of the fire and the seemingly interminably slow ticking of the grandfather clock.

    Her face was a perfect mask of composure, a young lady without thoughts or emotions without … Her breathing began to accelerate slightly, the only indication that there was something going on below the surface, but she focused more intently on the movement before her and returned to normal. Once again she was the perfect image of everything she was supposed to be. As hollow and fragile as a china doll.

    The clock continued to tick, the fire continued to crackle and the specs continued to dance.

    The door swung open sending a burst of chill air across the room destroying the mesmerising display before her. She shivered and her head snapped to the side a startled look capturing her features as she was struck by the image of the man standing there. He wasn’t the man she had been waiting for.

    He couldn’t have taller than 6,1 or 2 but he seemed to fill the entire double door entrance. Clearly, he was not a man to be trifled with: confidence and presence did not merely ooze from him, they radiated and slammed into her as viscerally as a fist. She swallowed, but refused to lower her gaze.

    There was no light in the hallway and darkness clung to him even as he stepped into the library. It gave him a decidedly sinister aspect and made it impossible of her to study his features, but even with shadows partially shrouding his face, she recognised him. Everyone knew who he was.

    He strode into the room, with a purposeful measured tread, and his eyes locked on hers.

    She titled her head up, her spine straightened even further, and her hands remained clasped in her lap. The outward picture of compose as she strove to control her desire to run out of there screaming.

    “Who are you?” His voice was calm, but held the ring of authority. It was clear that the habit of command was so deeply entrenched in every fibre of this man’s being that he could not rid himself of it, even had he wished to. Yet, now that she could see his green eyes, they did not seem to be particularly unkind at that moment, more vexed. Even so, she could not quite control the tiny spasm of her hand which his question elicited; she knew this man’s reputation and that they were not destined to be allies.

    Upon noting that she did not immediately jump to answer his question, he looked mildly disapproving and opened his mouth again only to close it a second later as another occupant entered the room. Another shiver ran across her flesh, although this time it had less to do with the chill draught, as she managed to cast a small, polite smile in the newcomer’s direction.

    He was an excessively attractive man with a lure which only seemed to have grown in his fifty odd years on the planet. His thick mane of chestnut hair was only just beginning to grey at the temples and his still lithe form was shown to advantage in a dark suite which probably cost a normal person’s monthly earnings. He was only fractionally shorter than his younger counterpart and was in possession of the same presence, control and barely leashed touch of danger.

    “Alexander, nice to see that you have finally seen fit to haul yourselves back from cesspool you call a life in Metropolis”, he smirked, “I only had to demand your presence five times upon this occasion, what’s the matter? Do you need me to bail you out of another mess?”

    Lex’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardened. “Dad”, he replied civilly, barely resisting the urge to refer to him instead as Lionel (the most respectful of the other replacements for Dad that he had come up with over the years). “Was there something in particular you wanted or do you just enjoy making people jump through hoops?” He had long since become accustomed to his father’s games and tests, not to mention his put downs. What he could never become inured to was for others to witness his humiliation. For this woman, to witness such a scene between father and son, rankled him more than he cared to admit.

    He was intensely proud, and had honed his skills in every aspect of business, determined to one day out do his father. He was constantly scouring every situation for details and slivers of information that someone else might have missed and turning them over in his brain (sometimes almost obsessively), until he had a more complete picture and knew how to work it to his advantage. It had taken him but a few seconds to realise that the young lady was waiting for someone, apprehensive and stiff backed. Probably extremely proud and definitely somehow involved with his father. She almost had the air of a socialite, but not quite and, more to the point, he did not recognise her. Unless she was foreign she was not one of their set, which made her presence there a mystery. Still he continued to study her. The slight quirks which she might have been able to disguise from others were as clear as day to him. His keen eyes had detected a flicker in her expression (upon hearing how his father had spoken to him), whether from mirth or condescension he knew not. He did not care. Both were equally abhorrent to him and began to erode his previous ambivalence towards her. She should not have been there.

    His father laughed, “Ah, so bitter for one so young”, he strolled over to the young woman and said “I see that you have met Chloe”, as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

    The young woman tensed slightly, obviously disliking his father’s touch, only to turn actually flutter her eyelashes at him when Lionel stared at her with an expression that Lex was appalled to see verged on smitten.

    “You’re latest secretary”, he would have made air quotes had they not been so beneath him. He summed up their relationship in a second; she was one of the reams of women trying to catch themselves a rich lover, preferably a Luthor. She might be able to wear the clothes and effect a touch of class in her baring but she was nothing more than a whore. It was a shame, he had thought that there might be something more there but apparently not and she would soon be shocked back into reality when she realised that Lionel was just playing with her as a cat did with a mouse. That ‘look’ had to have been for her benefit; his father did not have sentiments.

    She sniffed and shot Lex a look of her own which demonstrated just how little respect she thought him and that idea worthy of. He raised an eyebrow and recalculated. She wasn’t the run of the mill whore, she had some education and a good opinion of herself and yet she was still deliberately trying to entice his father although she seemed almost worried about it. For a brief second the thought flashed through his mind that she might be an educated employee that Lionel had taken an interest in and that she thought that she needed to play along to keep her job, only to have it disappear again. Her eyes were too knowing for that. Besides, as she continued to stare at him with the barely concealed contempt his desire to make excuses for her died away and he labelled her as another simpering, superficial, socialite snob. Or a want-to-be socialite snob, at any rate.

    Lionel smirked. “No, the newest member of the Luthor family”.

    “She’s a bit old for you to adopt, isn’t she?” Lex asked pleasantly, assuming that this must be one of his father’s ruses. He studied her closely. Her golden was hair tied back into an efficient bun with only a few tendrils framing her face, her face was almost free from make-up and extremely symmetrical with porcelain skin, straight nose, rosebud mouth, and large green eyes. The only jewellery which he could observe was a silver cross necklace of greater elegance than expense which was at odds with her dark blue designer dress and stiletto heels. The overall effect was one of a woman in her early twenties, just stepping out into the working world but her face told a different story. Dispassionately, he determined her to be around eighteen, just with a great deal of poise.

    “Lex, it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to my new wife, Chloe Ann Luthor. Chloe, my darling, meet my son and heir Alexander Luthor”.

    A snort of laughter escaped the Luthor scion, “Good one Dad”, he wasn’t buying that for one second. Lionel had always had an eye for the ladies but there hadn’t been one since his mother (God rest her soul) who could actually capture his interest let alone stir the least inclination in his father to marry. In his father’s mind there were very few reasons to get married (money, power, connections and the provision an heir, being the key ones) all of which his mother had combined but which this young woman seemed to be entirely lacking.

    Still, he found his eyes travelling back down to her fingers to discover that her hands were still folded in her lap, right over left, obscuring his view. It had to be a joke. It explained everything. Lionel had found some poor girl to come along and play a trick on him, it was why she seemed nervous, why she didn’t like to be touched but then tried to look in love, why his father simpered, and why she had looked so truly and rightly indignant at the insinuation that she might be a highly paid hooker. It was all just one of his father’s little games.

    Chloe bristled and fixed him with a look which clearly stated that she thought that he was nothing and he found himself reconsidering. She could be one of their set quite easily, maybe one of the less attractive ones who had recently undergone surgery.

    “Now now Lex”, Lionel tisked, “you will make your new mother think that you have absolutely no manners”. He lifted Chloe’s left hand to his lips and displaying the same exquisite sapphire rings which had once adorned Lillian Luthor’s hand. It couldn’t be a joke, even Lionel would do something like that as a joke.

    Lex felt as if all of the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The only thing which kept him from screaming was the strict training had had as a Luthor and the sight of his mother’s portrait which still hung above the mantel piece in the library.

    “She”, his eyes darkened, “is not my mother. If you feel the need for a midlife crisis then get a new car to ride”. With that bon mot he turned and made to leave. The very idea that he would bring that proud, conceited, insignificant little slip of a girl into the family home (the one where his mother had lived) and imply that she could ever compare to his saintly mother, was disgusting. The fact that he had given her those rings, her rings. Lillian had taught him never to hit a woman, never to touch one with anything but kindness, and that was the only reason why he had not ripped them off her unworthy hand.

    She had clearly known who he was, what she was doing to him, that was why she had been so nervous. She had to have known who was in the painting above the fire, had to have seen the rings in the image and known that they were the same ones on her hand and yet she had just sat there, she had let his father … Lex felt as if he might actually explode with fury. She was a manipulative bitch and deserved to rot in hell alongside his father.

    Lionel’s eyes crackled dangerously, “Come back and shake Chloe’s hand”, he ordered.

    Lex’s merely shook his head in disbelief and to walk away, unable to even begin to process what was going on in his father’s head. He couldn’t know how close Lex was to flooring the bastard. Forcing his feet forwards, rather than back into a confrontation (afraid that he would go too far, and make himself unworthy to be his mother’s son) he made it all of the way to the door when Lionel’s slow drawl reached him, “You think that I don’t know about those charities of yours?”

    “They are good for our image and are tax deductible. By all means cut them off, but the media will …” He didn’t get to finished explaining what it was exactly that the media would do to him as his father broke in.

    “No, not those ones”.

    Lex stopped dead in his tracks. Feeling as if his father’s power were wrapping around him. He wanted to break free of it, he could break free of it. He could storm out of there, he did not need to allow himself to be so humiliated especially not in front of this woman but then those children … He clenched his jaw and his fists before turning back around. He strode over to the blonde woman and held out his hand. “Mrs Luthor!” he said with a sneer, “what an elevation for you”.

    In spite of his attempt at civility, she refused to take his hand as if she were the one who had been insulted. Lex glanced over at his father, waiting for him to put his wife in her place only for Lionel to laugh.

    The sound of it rang through the room and down the corridor, pursing Lex as he left slamming the door behind him. It was only with great purpose and self-control that he resisted the urge to go back in in there and slam his fist into his father’s nose. Their relationship had never been precisely amicable, but this was too much. Had the old coot found someone – preferably his own age – who he cared for and wanted to spend his life with (and brought a new set of rings) then he would have been happy for him, but that was clearly not the case.

    As he reached his own office he grabbed his phone and called a familiar number, without preamble he barked, “Find out everything you can on Chloe Ann Luthor, maiden name unknown. Possibly early twenties but more likely late teens, fair skin, blond hair, green eyes”. He paused for a second, “Yes, pretty. Something about her convinced my father to marry her. I want to know what”.

    He hung up, slipping the phone back into a locked draw.

    He paced the length of the Persian carpet, trying to piece together anything he had heard over the last few weeks and months to only to keep returning to the same conclusion, there had been no indication what so ever that something like this could be brewing. The timing was too exact to be a coincidence, there was a large merger coming up, it must somehow be related that although who had pursued whom was a mystery to him without more information.

    On top of his normal work, Lex’s day was spent searching the internet for any ‘official’ announcement of the nuptials which might divulge some detail which could be used to his advantage. Periodically he received updates from his agent, if update is the right word for an announcement that they still had absolutely no idea who or what she was.

    As he walked tiredly up to his room that night, his only consolation lay in the fact that he had not had to deal with the happy couple further that day and he hoped that the morning would bring fresh news. The frigid bitch shouldn’t prove too much of a problem whoever she was, gold diggers had been after his father for years and she wasn’t the daughter of anyone prominent or else he would have recognised her. He should be able to rid them of her presence quite speedily.

    It was with these comforting thoughts that he finally climbed into bed and drifted off into a disturbed sleep, replete with thoughts of the mysterious blonde. He awoke, just passed midnight, in a tangle of sheets, sweat covering his body.

    “Oh fucking hell no!”

    ~*~

    A/N: Okay, I know that I put in a warning at the beginning but I will put in another one here. A big fat bright red warning even though it will ruin part of the story. There will be no rape, this is a Chlex story, but Lionel will be naked below.

    Lionel was so chipper that he could have whistled, if it weren’t so horribly cliché, as he strode into the master bedroom. He had hardly ever stayed there before, not greatly enjoying being out in the middle of nowhere, but as he entered the room he thought that he could get used to it if he had to.

    Lionel had had the castle brought over from Scotland stone by stone not because it made for a comfortable family abode, but because it conferred status upon him. The master bedroom was no exception. An enormous mahogany and marble space which had always felt cold however high the fire was piled, decorated with strategically placed pieces of expensive furniture which had been brought by a designer he had engaged years ago without paying any attention to the overall aesthetic. It was the best and that was enough for him. He smiled as he remembered her, she had certainly earned her commission. What enthusiasm. What legs.

    The room now felt warmer and distinctly fuller. It appeared that his new wife was not a neat freak. Boxes yet to be unpacked scattered the room, the wardrobe doors were left open to reveal that there was no more room for clothes after the shopping spree he had indulged her with that morning. The rest of her new designer apparel was draped over chairs and the desk. He closed the door behind him and continued into the room, wondering why she hadn’t used her dressing table until he saw that that was groaning with jewellery. He smirked, he was a good husband.

    Considering that he had been so kind to her he was rather annoyed to find that she wasn’t lying draped out across the bed waiting for him. Before he could voice this query and go in search of his errant wife, a maid distracted him, coming in from the study to the side which had been designated for Chloe’s usage, a bag of rose pedals in her hand as she headed for the bed, but then saw her boss, “I’m sorry Sir”, she stuttered, coming up short, “I didn’t know that you were here, I …”

    “Just get going”, he told her, smirking as he saw the petals. Apparently he was just earlier than expected. Once in the deserted room again he strew a few across the bedspread, assuming that she would want at least a little romance. She could have anything she wanted now that she was apparently ready to stop stringing him along.

    He crossed over to Chloe’s en suite and listened, raising his hand to knock but then thought better of it. As much as he wanted her, he still prided himself on being the consummate gentleman … he would wait until she left the bathroom voluntarily to ravish her.

    In his own bathroom, he performed his ebullitions with care and tried to take his time, reminding himself that that anticipation was part of the thrill … only to decide that he had already waited long enough. He had waited for months, dangling after the tiny temptress as she led him on.

    He strode back out to see his seductress standing there, that tell-tale, small, sweet smile on her lips. It was the thing which had first attracted him to her; that veneer of innocence coupled with absolute manipulativeness. That was how she had got him after all. “You are a vision as always, my dear. Come over here”.

    She didn’t move a muscle.

    For once he wasn’t angered by her little games; the joy of the chase was so much sweeter when he knew he was going to get what he wanted. She was the first and the last woman to make him wait. He advanced on her, her perfume just peeking his interest when she stepped back. Her face was almost neutral but there was tension in her stance, she ran one hand down the opposite arm. He took another step but she turned and moved over to her vanity as if she were unaware of his intentions.

    It was a bad move, with two steps he had cut off her retreat.

    “It is natural to be nervous”, he informed his trapped beauty in a voice verging on a purr. He had never concerned himself with the feelings of his paramours before; they were there purely to service him. He had even taken great delight in their nervousness, drinking in their apprehension like an elixir, but it was different with her. She was different. Chloe captivated him in a way that no other woman had ever been able to, not even his first wife. He didn’t want her to be uneasy, he wanted her to care for him as much as he did for her and to let him please her. He could give her pleasure like she had never known before, satisfy her every whim, need, desire – including the ones she did not yet know she had.

    “That depends on what I am planning on doing to you”, she shot back.

    He laughed, it was too much. Too overplayed. “Oh my love”, he exclaimed with mirth, “my darling love”, he placed his hands on her hips and brought her to him so that he could wrap his arms around her slim waist and relish her softness. He took a minute to savour the sensation of her being completely his before telling her, “You don’t have to come on strong”.

    “I am not weak”, she protested.

    “I know”, he assured her softly as he studied her face intently.

    She was clearly embarrassed at being held by him and by being caught out in her little game, but more than that. Her emerald eyes that she would never be anyone’s ‘victim’ again. Apparently she felt uncomfortable under such scrutiny, her head lowered slightly as she put her hands on his shoulders and smoothed the material of his robe down. Try as she might, she could not deny that he was in good shape for his age. Her hands continued down his arms, for any age actually.

    An arrogant smile graced his lips. He observed, even in the rapidly diming light, that her pupils were dilated. With the air of one with the perfect right to do so, he ran his hands over the soft curve of her backside, praising himself for his earlier self-control and wondering how the hell he had ever lasted so long. She was perfection. His control snapped and he trailed his hands back up her body and slipped her white stain robe from her shoulders, allowing it to fall in a puddle around her feet. Complete and utter perfection.

    She was a goddess, his angel, his everything. She was everything that he had ever wanted wrapped up into one sumptuous package. From her dainty feet and ankles, up her toned legs to the hem of her short lace and satin nightie through which he could just distinguish the full curve of her hips, the clinched waist, her pert breasts and the hint of cleavage it revealed. Even her soft arms and swan like neck were perfect.

    He pulled her back to him, pressing her against him as he planted a hard passionate kiss on her full, pliant lips. She was every bit as sweet as she looked. He wanted to drown in her. He grabbed her, hoisting her up to carry her the few steps to their bed, leaving their robes behind. He laid her out before him, a gorgeous feast for any man.

    Lionel climbed onto the bed and crawled up her body, noticing the way that she stiffened slightly. He gave her an encouraging smile and leant down to kiss her briefly before whipping her nightie up and off her body. She would feel better once she had been completely revealed to him and knew that she had nothing to fear, he reasoned. She would feel even better after he had made love to her.

    She was every bit as gorgeous as he had known she would be and the blush of pink which coloured her cheeks charmed him still further. He told her so as he moved back down the bed. “You are so gorgeous”, he said as he caressed her feet gently until he felt her body relaxing slightly, apparently against her will. “So beautiful”, he kissed her instep and continuing up her legs with his hands and lips.

    He heard her breathing accelerating slightly only to catch in her throat as his reached the apex of her closed thighs. His warm breath whispered against her soft blonde curls.

    Her hands closed around his head and moved him past that particular juncture. “As you wish”, he chuckled as he placed several long, sensual kisses along the length of her abdomen; a flat, taunt plane of skin which would soon be home to his next son. He pressed his head between her perfect ripe, firm breasts and hoped that she wouldn’t have any silly ideas about naming the child herself; he would be the greatest Luthor ever born. Even had she not been the most beautiful creature on the face of the planet, that thought alone would have been enough to make him rock hard.

    He brought his legs up to straddle her as his hands cupped the pert flesh. He devoured the sight of her ravenously, her body covered by his, her cheeks burning, her eyes closed and her head turned to the side as if still shy of him and the pleasure he gave her, but her hands fisting in the sheets as she arched up into his caress.

    With long practiced skill he began to tease her, squeezing and massaging the milky orbs until moans and whimpers were torn from her throat, her head thrashing from side to side as he circled her nipples with his thumbs. She was powerless against him and his seduction. He slipped back down her body and this time was able to part her legs easily with his hands, his mouth not far behind. His eyes were still fixed on her face and he noted with relish the almost pained expression of pleasure he found there.

    With every intention of making her beg and scream his name he lowered his head only to find it once again in her grasp and being guided back up to meet her lips. Before he could open his lips to ask her what she wanted, she had covered them with her own. She laid back and contemplated his face, tracing his features with one finger as she reminded him, “This is what you have been waiting for”.

    “Indeed, this”, he grasped both of her hands and kissed them, “my darling little tease is what you have taunted me with all these months. The only woman ever to have done so”. He knew exactly what she had been doing ever since their first meeting. “A risky enterprise that no one else has succeeded in”.

    “Maybe”, she gives him a look which was for once a little more arched than innocent.

    He grinned at her antics. That was how she was, at once minute lively and teasing, the next quiet and innocent. She enticed and fascinated him. After he had been pursuing her a few weeks and demanded to know when he was going to get anywhere she had as good as told him that without a ring he wouldn’t get so much as a kiss, only to revert to her sweet innocent act a moment later. Well he had married her that morning and he was going to claim his reward.

    “My naughty deceptive darling”, his voice was soft but scolding, “is this how you are going to seduce me? With this innocent look?” His thumb brushed over her reddened cheeks. He had no idea how she could control her colouring like that.

    “Do you require any more seducing?” She stared up at him, almost shyly, from under her long lashes.

    “I guess not”, his erection was already verging on painful, as he ran thumbs across her wrists and felt her legs clamping together. That was interesting. Not all women were alike, but there were certain tricks he had learned long ago. He stroked his hands up her arms, with the intention of massaging his way back down, only to find his fingers entangled with hers.

    Chloe braced herself against the bed and Lionel raised an eyebrow inquiringly before she pushed. He didn’t have to move: he was stronger than she was in every single way, he could destroy her, he could do anything to her but he allowed himself to be forced over onto his back as she straddled him, pinning his hands above his head. Their gazes locked and he smirked.

    “Now”, she purred, her voice almost too seductive, “be a good husband and stay right there”.

    She kept her hands over his for a second until she saw that he was entertained enough to do as she bad, allowing her to straight up so that she was straddling his waist, her hot core pressing against his flat stomach. He groaned as she slipped further back so that her buttocks nestled against his cock, which was now straining against the confines of his silk boxers. He wished that he had not donned them to keep from startling her; he wanted to feel her skin against his hardened length. He gritted his teeth against the desire to take control from her, to flip them both over and drive into her. He would let her play her little game if that was what she wanted.

    He licked his lips as he watched her, trying to look bossy and authoritative but not quite managing it. He knew that she had been playing and manipulating him right from the start, teasing him with her body and veneer of innocence but he was never quite sure how far it reached or how much of her hesitance now was feigned. She studied his face for a few seconds longer, as if trying to gauge his reactions before risking turning her back on him slightly as she reached out for the bedside table and took out several accoutrements.

    Lionel frowned and was about to complain that he wasn’t about to wear a condom when she slipped off him and her fingers brushed against his crotch, causing his voice died on his lips. She kneeled on his left, seeming hesitant, as if awed by its size, as she petted the hardened length gently through the silken material.

    “That’s good darling”, Lionel assured her, before adding, “for a start”, with a challenging look.

    He had expected her to shoot him an arch look back, possibly coupled with a cheeky retort, but she lowered her head and blushed furiously. It was endearing and quite possibly manipulative but he didn’t care about any of that at that precise moment. At long last, she she snuck her hand inside and fumbled with his throbbing erection.

    Chloe teased him for a few seconds before slowly removing his boxers and he decided that he had had enough. He had been more than patient, throughout their courtship and certainly that night. He wanted her now. His hands left the place on the bed where she had left them and was about to grab her when she squeezed him at his base. He grunted. Two hard strokes and he was trying not to swear. With that the condom was rolled on, for the first time in Lionel’s life. He tried to protest once more but found himself unable to; his eyes were fixed on her as she ran her hands down herself before snatching up the bottle of lube she had dropped next to the condoms. She unsnapped the bottle and poured it into her hands, warming it for a few seconds before leaning over him. His head craned up to watch as her hands descended, only to crash back against the pillows as she began to massage the liquid onto him.

    His hips bucked of their own volition and he knew that what remained of his self-control was about to snap, when finally Chloe moved to straddle him once more. She held him steady at the base as she slid her hips across his and hovered above him. She slid the tip of his cock through her warm wet folds, teasing them both before lining him up with her entrance.

    Lionel raised his hands to help her but she tried unaided only to let out a shout of pain.

    She was either a better actress than even he had thought or she was less experienced than she sometimes liked to make out. “You just got the angle wrong”, he told her patiently, as he took hold of her hips authoritatively and showed her how to move to bring them both pleasure. He didn’t mind, he was happy to teach her, to please her, to make her his completely.

    Together they worked her over him, establishing their rhythm as she rocked over him, inch by inch nearer to completion. Lionel stared at her, he had thought that she was perfect before, but now that she was less put together she was even more gorgeous. Her body glistening with perspiration, she was a vision, from her lovely thighs, up to where they joined together over her stomach to her swaying breasts to her face now contorted with pleasure and effort, her eyes were scrunched closed as she focused on her task.

    “It might be easier for you if I …” Lionel started to suggest that he be on top but Chloe shook her head defiantly.

    “As you wish”, he just about managed to get out as he drove up into her again. A cry ripped from her throat and he smirked.

    Her arms which had begun to shake gave out and he held her hips with one hand and snuck the other one between them to stroke her intimate flesh. He wished that he could see her expression as she came for the first time, and kiss her to boot, but he was denied both pleasures as she screamed into his chest, grinding herself against him helplessly. Her walls contracted so violently around him that his own climax was not far behind.

    As she finally rolled off him and they both lay there in the aftermath of what they had just done, Lionel wished that the house weren’t so well sound proofed; he wanted the world to hear them.

    A/N: If you are still reading at this point, you have my undying love and devotion. Leave a review for a hug. If you skipped over the last part, that's fine too. Anyway, as always, reviews and knowing that people are reading makes me ridiculously happy and once I have finished my PhD and have a job etc I will get some councilling about that.

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