A View of His Room

By

CJ

The bed still had bachelor-blue sheets, plain and functional for all their high thread count, but now there was an ivy plant stuck on the windowsill, and on the left-hand bedside table a silver-framed picture of a smiling couple stood guard over a pair of reading glasses as if they had the right to be there.

Lex ignored them.

The closet, a room off the bedroom, had been divided, rearranged, re-organized, re-made to spell 'couple'. And that was where he found her, on her knees in front of the threefold mirror, angrily stuffing shoes into an overnight bag.

"Helen, what are you doing?"

She glared at him in the mirror, her brown eyes coming at him from every direction, black curls falling into her face even as she pushed them aside.

"I'd think that would be apparent."

He smiled. She didn't waste words or time, two things he liked about her.

He stepped closer and knelt behind her, putting his hands around her waist and stroking her back with his thumbs as he asked, "Is one room that important?"

"I don't know, Lex." She didn't soften, didn't give, just stared at him by way of a cold reflection. "Is it?"

He shrugged, maintaining eye contact through the mirror as he pulled her back between his thighs. She was beautiful ≠ that was another thing he liked about her.

"I won't be compartmentalized, Lex. That's not what couples who have faith in each other do. It's about sharing you life, your secrets. It's about accepting each other." Her voice was still hard, but she relaxed just enough for Lex to press his cock against her ass.

Her ass.

Definitely likable, even through layers of clothes. He wanted it; wanted in to the tight, velvety heat, but it wasn't time for that yet.

"I'll admit that I find that hard." He smirked and rocked his hips slightly, "but I am trying."

"Yes, you are." Her tone was sarcastic, but when Lex brushed her hair aside, she leaned her head forward slightly to give him better access to her neck. "Both hard and trying."

He nibbled on her neck, burying his nose in her hair as he moved his hands up from her waist to cup her breasts, one in each hand, thumbs still working, circling, through the lace camisole and the satin bra. He timed it so that each time he rocked his hips into her ass he pinched her nipples.

Helen pressed her lips together and didn't make a sound.

But she did lean back.

She balanced against him by resting her hands on his thighs, French manicured nails standing out against his black wool slacks. Her eyes were half closed now but still focused on the triptych of images in the mirrors. When Lex moved on to tonguing her ear and then her pulse point, he looked up and met her gaze as he moved his right hand from her breast down to her hemline and pushed under her skirt.

Her brown, unchanging eyes watched every move.

He focused on the contrast of his pale skin glowing against her golden complexion as he used touch to guide first one finger and then another behind satin elastic to the warm, wet heat that pressed Helen back against him.

He fingered her clit absently, without purpose, but she began to rock in time with him, pursuing her own goal.

"Is it that important?" he asked again, and pinched her left nipple, then rolled it as he flicked two fingers hard against her clit with his other hand.

Helen's breath was ragged. "Yes."

He sped up his rhythm all at once and held her as Helen began to shake and grip his thighs, her perfect French tips scoring his skin though the wool pants. He ground his cock against her ass and buried his face in the black waves of her hair.

Lex sank his fingers deeper inside her, working her clit with his thumb now. She reached for him, her right hand going back between them. The tips of her fingers brushed over the straining zipper of his pants, but he leaned back and took more of her weight onto his legs as he shifted her up to get his fingers deeper, pinning her like a butterfly on velvet.

"Yes!" She was getting louder now, she was almost-

"Goddamn it, yes, Lex!"

She shook in time with the pulse in her clit and her thighs squeezed around his hand over and over because he didn't stop thrusting, and drumming her clit, but also wouldnπt give her the rhythm she needed until-

"Please!"

Lex put it all together, pushing Helen over the edge, and keeping her there as she shook and writhed and screamed, drenching him in her sweat and juices.

She finally collapsed and tried to roll away, but he held her, softly now, petting her dark hair gently with one hand while pushing the wet fingers of his other against her lips.

As Helen sucked on them in a slow hazy way, Lex smiled into the mirror.

"That was all you had to say."

*~*~*~*~*

"Obsession."

Lex could still hear the word echoing around the room.

Multiple screens displaying the hints, the clues, the deductions he'd made over the past year and a half. The Porsche hit Clark's stick figure over and over again. There were symbols and octagonal disks and cave paintings everywhere.

"There's an awful lot about the Kents here." He heard Helen over the echo and turned back to see her standing, still slightly mussed, eyes bright.

And there is Clark, his picture dominating one wall of the room.

Oh, yes.

"They're an interesting family." He says it with a smile and only a slight blush, and Helen glows.

He won't let her know he has Mrs. Kent's medical files, of course. He wonders if she'll ask.

"Lex, you didn't have to hide this from me." She moves towards him now, her arms open, Clark's eyes behind her, watching.

"I just needed time." He met her halfway, to hold her, to be held, to run his fingers through her hair. Her hands ghosted over his scalp, down his cheeks, and drew him in for a kiss.

Her lips were full and warm, a little too soft, but he could work with them.

Helen pulled back and smiled up at him. "You know nothing could ever change how I feel about you, don't you?"

He took both her hands in his and searched her steady brown eyes for several seconds before smiling himself. "I rely on that, Helen. I rely on you."

She kissed him again, taking back her hands to wind them behind his neck and pulled him down to her mouth, which wasn't quite right, but it didn't matter. No one had ever touched him in this room before. He closed his eyes to appreciate the silk, the heat, and the black curls teasing his face. He was still hard from having made her lose control upstairs; having made her beg, and now his cock began to jerk in time with her kisses.

As Helen moved down his chest, licking a trail of heat across his collarbone and then down his sternum, her nails traced his ribs and then his abdomen until she finally got to his belt buckle.

Lex groaned and placed his hands encouragingly on her shoulders.

Payback was a bitch.

He almost laughed, but cut it off as Helen's mouth took him in, took him down, so deep and sudden that he opened his eyes.

Any thought of laughter was gone then, swallowed up in an image of ever-changing green.

He tangled his fingers in the black hair and held on as he fucked that mouth, that throat. He could feel the hands - large, working hands - gripping his ass, steadying him as he thrust hard, secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't cause any injury, that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he fought, or how badly he screwed up, he'd never be able to hurt-

"Clark!"

Lex couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't feel anything except the pulsing rush of endorphins racing through his blood stream, and all he could think of was the broad chest he should be cradled against, and the large square hands that should be holding him, and how strange love was.

A voice, octaves too high, whispered in his ear. "Shall we continue this upstairs?"

Lex just nodded.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It was only two days later that Lex received the e-mail he'd been waiting for. He made arrangements and spent a very romantic evening wining, dining and fucking.

At 3:00 AM, Helen was asleep in his- in their- bed. Lex got up quietly, put on his robe, wincing as the velour caught on the abrasions across his shoulders, and went downstairs to Clark's room.

It was quiet. The displays were off, except for Clark's picture. Lex didn't look at it as he walked past and activated the secure video-teleconferencing link.

There were no introductions. There wasn't any need. Lex had interviewed the man personally, checked his background, and insured that he worked alone.

Lex did not repeat mistakes.

The commentary was subdued and minimal. The pictures and the tapes were more than enough.

Papers, disks, trust, essential, imperative, evidence, time, money: the words flowed around him.

At least they weren't fucking.

Lex smiled as he watched his father leave the restaurant with a spring in his step, confident that he'd lost the watchers his son had set on him, and equally confident that Lex was too smitten to even think of having Helen followed.

Well, one out of two wasn't bad, Dad.

Control the flow of information and you control the man.

He turned back to Clark's picture, able to face his friend now.

"It'll be all right." Lex said, smiling. "I won't let him hurt you. I can control Helen."

He paused, aware that it was more than a bit strange to be talking to Clark this way, but he liked to anyway. He walked over to the wall just next to Clark and put his hand on an invisible sensor.

A panel slid back to reveal a six by six room with a cot, sink, and toilet. He thought perhaps he should install some bookshelves.

He shrugged and decided he'd worry about that closer to the time. He closed the panel again with another touch to the palm-print sensor.

He caught Clark's eyes following him as he left to go back to bed and smiled.

"Don't worry. I'll protect you."