"You're lurking again." Straightening her skirt and fastening the zipper, Chloe watched him in the mirror over the dressing table.
"It's my bedroom."
"What? So you can't lurk in your own bedroom?"
"Technically...I don't think so." He smirked and pushed off from the door jamb he'd been leaning against. "I'm a voyeur."
"Pervert, you mean."
"Voyeurs are vastly misunderstood."
"Perverts usually are," she teased, slipping her top over her head and covering the sexy red bra she was sporting.
"You like my form of perversion." He stopped in the middle of the room, watching her, finally asking, "Do you have to leave?"
"I have to cover the festivities. The mayor's making a speech." She reached for the brush she'd set out on the table top and pulled it quickly through her bobbed hair. "Aren't you supposed to be there?"
"I'm supposed to be in D.C."
Chloe frowned, which smeared the lipstick she was applying. Plucking a Kleenex from the box, she wiped her mouth free of color. "And what was your excuse this time?" she asked cooly before replying the dark red gloss.
He was the one to frown this time as he crossed the room wearing only a pair of neatly pressed gray wool trousers, his bare feet sinking into the deep carpet. "You should know better, Chloe. I don't make excuses."
"You make proclamations," she continued, her lips twisting into a self-deprecating smirk. "King of the world."
His hands landed on her shoulders, just heavy enough to make her gasp softly. "Don't forget it," he whispered in her ear before spinning her and crushing her lips beneath his.
Managing to pull her head back, Chloe gasped out, "I have to go, really."
"There's a countdown, champagne corks fly and church bells ring, then the mayor is boring. It's the same every New Years." Their eyes met and she saw the need in his. "Stay." It was as close to a plea as she was going to get and she didn't want to say 'no'.
So, she didn't. Placing her hands on his smooth cheeks, she drew him down for another kiss, this one more tender, more passionate, arousing her so easily. His hands smoothed up her back, taking her top with them. They broke the kiss long enough for the silk to go over her head, then were back in each others arms, bodies pressing togther. She felt his erection poke against her thigh, and moaned softly as her body heated and dampened.
The skirt was the next to go and he lifted her out of the pool of velvet, leaving her in red lace undergarments that barely covered her.
"Bed," she moaned, trying to urge him back towards the rumpled Egyptian cotton sheets and fluffy pillows.
"Here," he growled back, turning her and pushing her down over the dressing table.
Chloe grunted and dug her makeup bag from beneath her stomach, then hissed as the cold glass pressed against her bare skin. She felt him push a knee between her legs, and parted them, going up on her toes. She started to raise her head but a firm but gentle hand slid beneath her hair and found the nape of her neck, pressing her back down.
A shiver of lust bolted through her as her inner submissive came out to play.
Behind her she heard the rustle of cloth, the metal of a zipper on teeth, then saw a small packet drop beside her face.
"Open it."
Gulping, pulses of pleasure making her clit ache, she tore open the condom wrapper and handed him the contents.
A moment later she felt fingers pulling at her panties, not removing them, just moving the cloth aside, then the fingers were replaced by the tip of his sheathed cock, the latex quickly warmed by their skin and her own lubrication. His grunt of pleasure accompanied the thrust that drove him into her, both making her quiver and moan.
He continued to hold her down by the neck, his other hand wandering over her nylon covered bottom and her trembling thighs. His thrusts were easy and leisurely, different from the earlier, more frantic coupling, but no less pleasurable. Feeling her desire building, Chloe began to squirm back to meet him, her fingers digging into the edge of the table, rubbing her lace covered nipples against the hard, cold surface to stimulate them. As she wriggled, her inner muscles fluttered, and he began to thrust faster, the slaps of his pelvis against her hips more pronounced.
She could hear his breathing change, grow more ragged, and pleasure of another sort filled her-- satisfaction at knowing she could make this powerful man lose control. His increasingly erratic thrusts drove her down and forward, rubbing her clit roughly against the beveled glass edge of the table top His hand left her neck to find her hip, his fingers digging into her as he pumped harder, making her groan with each thrust.
Looking over her shoulder she watched his face twist with lust and need and want, and knew her own matched it. A wordless cry broke from her as he lifted her off her feet, slamming into her as he came. Shuddering, he dropped her back to her feet and pressed his hands on the table top to hold himself up as his hips churned against her quivering bottom. Finally, he stilled and pulled out of her.
Chloe bit back a whimper of disappointment and listened to him move away from her. Pushing herself up and off the table, she staggered, then unfastened her bra with shaking fingers.
When he emerged from the bathroom, nude and glistening from a quick washing, one hand was between her legs, the other propping her against the dressing table as she thumbed her clit and thrust three fingers inside her. He leaned against the post of the bed, arms crossed over his chest, and watched her.
"Lurker," she moaned.
"Voyeur," he corrected, tilting his head to watch her more closely.
His hot eyes on her were enough to push her over the edge and she shuddered and humped her hand as she came. Slumping back against the table, she pulled her shaky hand away and tried to focus on it.
He was before her in a flash, tenderly lifting her sticky hand to his mouth. She watched in fascination as his tongue flicked out, swiping along one finger, cleaning her and tasting her. A second, slow and warm orgasm engulfed her as he sucked at the webbing between two fingers, always an erogenous zone for her, and she sank against him. "Do I taste good?"
"Like chicken," he teased.
"I could fricassee up a whole herd of chickens, I'm so hungry," she complained as one need faded to be replaced by hunger of a different kind.
"I don't think herd is the right word."
"No more word games," Chloe groaned and pressed a kiss to the scar just above his heart from a thankfully errant bullet years before.
"Stay the night and I'll play different games with you."
"...Feed me first."
He grinned and sucked the last of her secretions from her finger. "I think there's leftover Chinese and some of that wine you like."
"The ice wine?"
He nodded. "Too newfangled for me."
"I'm sure there's some moldy old Cabernet or Merlot around here."
"You have no appreciation," he tsked at her as he wrapped a robe around her and reached for his own.
"I have tons of appreciation." Her eyes drifted down his chest to where his cock lay heavy between his legs before he covered it with terry cloth.
"Keep looking at me like that and we'll skip the food...again."
"Think of the scandal. Nubile young reporter found starved to death in Kansas senator's love nest."
"And who would write it with my own intrepid reporter deceased?"
Chloe grinned. "I'll text it right before I slip away."
"Not if you're hands are busy elsewhere."
Slipping one hand down his back she patted his ass. "Feed me, Lex, and I'll show you just what I can do with these hands."
Lex watched Chloe dance away from him and out the door of his bedroom, wondering for the hundredth time why he hadn't married her when he had the chance, political career be damned.
Shaking his head a bit sadly, he followed her, making the most of their rare nights together and trying to forget the what ifs.
End
A/N: Ice wine is YUMMMMY! It's very sweet but light and made from grapes frozen on the vine.
A/N2: No clue why I didn't reveal it was Lex until the end but I'm too lazy to go back and change it. In my mind he's married to Lana and on a path to the White House.
End