This story was originally posted in the nfic section under the name 'A Nightmare Come True'. It has undergone a major editing process thanks to the help of CCM and TriciaW, so while the beginning and the end are the same, the middle is quite changed. I hope people who didn't like the way the characters were portrayed in the original try to read this version. I hope they are pleasently surprised. This story is finished, so I will be posting on an EOD schedule. All constructive comments are appreciated. Writing is a learning process, and I still feel like I need a lot of help.
Nightmare -- Part 3
by Alicia U.
Rated PG-13 for sexual situations.
"Oh, oh, Lois," Clark moaned through clenched teeth. Her fingers traced a winding path down his chest, and he desperately tried to keep his eyes open. She had come to him, seduced him, and practically thrown herself at him.
He wasn’t sure why she’d changed her opinion of him so quickly, but he hadn’t questioned her motives. Yes she had thrown herself at him, but it wasn’t like she had done the dance of the seven veils for him!
It had all happened in a flash, but there was no question that he had been more than willing. This was his wildest erotic fantasy. She was in his bed, and he finally had the freedom to make love to her and her to him. “Don’t stop,” he whispered. Her touch was almost too good to be true, and more than he had expected.
If this was a dream, he wanted to sleep forever. His heart melted when she grinned at him with passion like he had never seen in her eyes. Lois Lane loved him, Clark, not Superman, maybe as much as he loved her. Tonight, he had become a new man with his soul enlightened by Lois Lane’s love. She was amazing. Beautiful. Wonderful. Sensual. Perfect. More than he had dared to imagine.
He brushed his right hand against her side, stroking up and down, too timid to venture too high or too low. She shivered slightly against his touch. He wasn’t sure if he should pull away, but knew he couldn’t if he tried. Her skin was so soft, so warm, so inviting. He needed to touch her so badly; he tentatively extended his other hand and she grasped it. She moaned softly, sweetly. “More, Clark,” she softly pleaded.
After letting go of his hand, her fingers worked their way down his chest and stomach, sending sparks of ecstasy through his body. He couldn’t stop a deep moan from escaping his lips. His heart raced furiously, nervously awaiting her next touch. Everything about her gave him an intense high. The man who felt no pain when slammed by bullets or cars now felt every little sensation when small fingers lightly brushed against his skin.
So many powerful emotions coursed through his body: unparalleled pleasure, absolute bliss, utter amazement. He’d never imagined he’d ever have the chance to share this experience with anyone. Especially not with her.
He gazed at her lithe form leaning over him, her mouth inching ever closer. Her warm breath against his cheek made him shudder in anticipation, driving him crazy, making him want her all the more. Everywhere she touched was on fire. He’d never known he could feel so much and so little all at once. He didn’t want to miss one second. The pleasure, oh the pleasure, was almost unbearable
Everything about her overwhelmed him and sent his mind reeling. Yet he wanted to etch the memory of every moment into his mind forever.
Her ivory skin. Her full, red lips. Her large, brown eyes. Her dark, silky hair.
Her.
She was incredible. He was so lucky to be with the star of his wildest dreams. Their bodies came together in a surreal ballet. He had wanted her for so long, and now he was finally with her in ways he had always imagined.
“Lois,” he gasped. “Oh god, Lois.” He let the pleasure completely overwhelm him. She was his reality. Their bodies melded together as one, and the satisfaction reached levels surpassing any he had imagined. It was so real, so intense, so mind-boggling.
"I love you," she whispered. From this moment, their lives would be intertwined as one.
He kissed her softly before he finally pulled out of her. His head sank down to the pillow, and he wrapped his arms around her. "I love you, too." He had never imagined hearing those beautiful words leave her lips and that he would get the chance to say them in return.
Morning, sweet morning, would bring another day to bask in their finally requited love. Since they had shared something so amazing, their lives would never be the same again.
Tonight was the beginning of the rest of their lives.
**********
“Morning? Already?” Lois groaned, her voice heavy with sleep. The bright light streamed in through the small break in the curtains drawing her out of her blissful slumber.
She cringed, trying to fight the assault on her senses. “Where am I?” she whispered, unable to find her voice. She sighed deeply and tried to roll over to block her eyes. “Why does it hurt so much?” Rolling over wasn’t an option. She took a deep breath and grimaced at the sharp rays of light that felt like tiny spears assaulting her poor eyes. “Ooh!” she moaned. She immediately closed her eyes again, trying to ease the pain. “Oh god.”
She took a deep breath. Why did it hurt so much? Why did everything feel so strange? “This has to be some kind of dream,” she muttered. Everything was rough where she was used to smooth, hard when she wanted soft.
She shook her head slightly and winced at the pain. “What happened to me?” All her muscles ached, making it virtually impossible to sit up in one fluid movement.
Throbbing, pounding, pulsating pain.
“I don’t have to sit up,” she said to herself. She allowed her head to fall back onto the pillow so she could concentrate without the drums pounding in her ears. “God, what happened to me?” Her whole body hurt so badly that all she wanted to do was fall back to sleep and let all her pain dissolve. Plus she was talking to herself. She had to be going crazy.
What was her problem? She had no idea where she was, but all she wanted to do was go back to sleep? That was so counterproductive.
Slowly, she tried to force her eyelids to open. “Stupid light. Stupid morning.” Who had turned the sun on without her permission? “Stupid nature,” she added for good measure.
Body aches, headache, sensitivity to light. A hangover. What else could it be? “How much did I have to drink last night?” She considered it for a moment. “I have to stop talking to myself.”
Violating her order, she whispered, “Did I drink last night?” She closed her eyes and tried to conjure images of the night before. “I don’t remember. Anything. What happened last night?” She sat up sharply in bed, ignoring her body’s protests.
“Oh god, what happened?” Nothing came to her no matter how hard she tried to force her memories to take shape. It was like she had missed an entire day.
She shook her head quickly; she had to remember something. A day couldn’t have vanished from her memory.
Work. She had been at work and had gone to a staff meeting.
There had to be more than an early morning staff meeting. What about mid-morning, afternoon, evening, night?
"What happened?" she moaned. She opened her eyes again and allowed herself to survey the room. Why was it so familiar?
Blue pillowcases. A white comforter with blue stripes. Large, muddy athletic shoes thrown in the corner by the closet. A suit jacket and tie scattered on the ground next to the bed.
She knew this room. She knew the man who it belonged to. The bright-colored tie alone was enough to give him away.
Clark’s tie. Clark’s suit. Clark’s shoes. Clark’s bed.
Clark’s leg against hers.
She was sleeping next to Clark Kent. Her partner. Clark Kent.
“How drunk was I?” she whispered. “We couldn’t have done anything. It all has to be an innocent mistake.”
She took a deep breath. How could it have been innocent? The evidence was far too incriminating. She lifted the blanket, and felt like she wanted to cry. Naked. Of course.
Sex. Hung over. Naked. Clark. Sex.
“Oh god. Clark!" she whispered forcefully, almost hoping to wake him. They needed to talk. She needed answers.
Still, it was almost too embarrassing. Maybe she didn’t want to wake him. If they’d slept together in a drunken love fest, she’d never be able to look at him in the same way. Not like a colleague. Not as a friend.
Not again.
How had she let it happen? How could she be in bed with him? Hadn’t she learned from what had happened with Claude? Hadn’t she vowed not to let it happen again?
Hadn’t she promised herself never to let this happen with Clark? He was her partner, maybe even her friend, but a lover? Impossible. It had to be a dreadful nightmare.
She wasn't attracted to him. Not in *that* way. Okay, if she really stretched, maybe she was slightly attracted to him in the 'he's a man; I'm a woman' sense, but nothing more. The thought of having sex with Clark of all people was crazy. Beyond that, it was breaking one of her cardinal rules. Unfortunately, rules were made to be broken. Especially her rules. She had been too strong for too long; she had become complacent.
But Clark was better than Claude. He wouldn’t have taken advantage of her.
She could not be naked in Clark's bed. He wouldn't have let it happen even if they both had been unable to make their own decisions. Could this be a dream? In a few seconds, would she wake up in her own bed?
She grabbed a large piece of skin at the bottom of her arm and pinched it hard. “Ouch! Damn it!” She sighed deeply. “It’s not a dream,” she moaned.
She closed her eyes momentarily, giving her time to reconsider her situation. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions. It wasn’t like she never did that.
Was it really Clark next to her? She opened her eyes, turned her head and sighed. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. Smooth skin. “Clark,” she breathed. “Of course it’s Clark.”
But Clark was Mr. Boy Scout. He would never take advantage of her. Even if she had been drunk and had come on to him, he would never let her go through with it. But what if he had been drunk, too? Would either of them have had the willpower to stop?
She pulled the blanket up, needing to know for sure if he was naked, too.
“No. I can’t do it.” She dropped the blanket before it revealed more than his bare back.
She couldn’t bring herself to look any farther, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his already-exposed skin. “Wow,” she breathed appreciatively. His shoulders were amazing. He was so muscular, far more so than she had ever realized. She had to fight the urge to brush her hand against his skin and feel the muscles that lay beneath.
Almost like it was happening in slow motion, she grabbed the blanket again, ready to expose her partner. She pulled the blanket completely off of him in one fluid motion. “Wow,” she breathed again.
She wasn’t sure what to feel. Indignation? Fear? Anger? Lust? Should she scream at him? Or maybe should she ravage him with kisses?
Again, her hand reached out to touch his skin, wanting to feel the texture of those hard muscles under her hand. She felt almost guilty for staring at him like this, but he was so much more than she had ever given him credit for. “Wow,” she repeated, not pulling her eyes away from his nude form. She’d never imagined Clark was so well defined and . . . so . . . wow.
Wait. What was she doing? Ogling Clark? She wasn’t supposed to be attracted to him.
Her world was inverted before her and all she could do was drool over her partner’s good looks. Was she the most superficial person in the world? She had to consider the important questions. How had they ended up like this? What had they done, drunk an entire bottle of tequila in five minutes? What else could make her do something so stupid and forget about it the next morning?
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She wanted to scream as she squirmed away. How embarrassing. She pulled her hand away, not wanting to do anything to awaken him. Yeah right. If all of that talking and moving hadn’t woken him, surely taking the blanket away had!
She couldn’t face him. Not yet. If he’d been as drunk as she had been, maybe he wouldn’t remember either. So if she slipped out of bed quickly, he would never know. Then she wouldn’t even have to move to a city far, far away. The ‘Planet’ had a London bureau. What about a Beijing bureau? She could learn Chinese if that was what it took to forget this happened.
Before Lois could hop out of bed and run away, something halted her progress. A hand. Squeezing her leg. Too late. She couldn’t run, couldn’t hide.
A hand behind her head, pulling her close to him. His lips against hers. A feeling of belonging, of contentment.
Almost kissing back. Oh, she wanted, no needed, to kiss him senseless.
What the heck?
She abruptly pulled away, and was ready to give Clark Kent a piece of her mind. Presumptuous bastard. He had some nerve kissing her like that, making her want to kiss him back!
But why had she responded so eagerly?
“Good morning,” he said sleepily with a large, sappy grin. “I still can’t believe we’re together like this.” He reached up to stroke the side of her face.
Stunned, she gasped at the sound of his voice, and jumped away from his hand invading her personal space.
to be continued -- I know this was a short part, but it was a good point to break.
