A Sort of Lolita

by HumbugGirl

Title: A Sort of Lolita
Author: HumbugGirl
Email: humbuggirl@hotmail.com
URL: http://www.geocities.com/powerandair Pairing: Chloe/Lionel
Rating: R
Summary: Lionel's thoughts on his new business partner. Spoilers: Hmm... `Exodus' I guess.
Disclaimer: Not mine in any way, shape or form. Author's Notes: 1) depending on your point of view this could deal with a touchy subject but I think it's pretty safe for everyone to read anyway. Feedback: Would be loved and adored for all time... However, I am really not interested in hearing from anyone whose only opinion is that Chlionel is `sick'.

Small hands dance around animatedly as she talks. The pattern is entirely random as far as Lionel can tell and yet still oddly fascinating for him and unconsciously he feels his eyes focus in on them. In the weeks since he's come to know her Lionel has noticed she likes to wear deep coloured shades of nail varnishes that inadvertently draw attention to her finely sculpted hands. There was a part of Lionel which doubted it was unintentional.

His suspicions are based almost entirely on how utterly aware Chloe Sullivan seems to be of how to use her body to her advantage even if her actions occasionally seem innocent. Young and nubile, a devastatingly distracting combination to be around as far as Lionel was concerned. The unconscious sway of her hips as she walked, drawing his eyes down to a wonderfully rounded rump that he longs to cup in his hands, mesmerising him though no less so that the way in which if she takes a deep enough breath then it causes her chest to move in a way that is very nearly pornographic from Lionel's point of view. He thinks its no surprise that the young blonde has a very particular way of occupying his more vivid fantasies recently.

Leaning back on the couch he watched her talk as she sat opposite, not paying any particular attention to what she was actually saying as he knew the surveillance equipment installed in the room would catch anything he might need to know later. Instead he let his thoughts wander in the direction that they often did in the presence of the petite blonde temptress. He wondered absently whether her body was as virginal as he secretly suspects it might be. The idea seemed vaguely ridiculous; any woman who managed to give off such an air of sexuality has no right being pure in Lionel's book. But then, he has to remind himself, Chloe wasn't really a woman, she was still very much a girl and a young one at that.

The thought sent a brief pleasurable spark through Lionel and he found himself grateful that the girl herself appeared to be entirely oblivious to the action.

Unfortunately it sent his thoughts in an entirely inappropriate direction for the present and Lionel found himself having to shirt ever so slightly to disguise the beginnings of what promised to be a rather sizable erection in his pants. Images of Chloe, wide-eyed with an alluring mixture of surprise, innocence and fear combined with a little anticipation and then most importantly desire as he laid her back on the couch she was currently occupying fill his mind readily. A slight shirt in perspective and Lionel can see himself slipping a hand down her body and into her pants and finding... finding white cotton panties, already wet at the crotch at his fingertips. He can practically feel her around him, slick and hot and tight, body jerking a little as she silently begs him to touch her again, some more, to never stop, in her own deliciously innocent way. The sweet sound of a breathy groans filling in the air around them as two sweat slink bodies move almost desperately against one another. He can practically feel those short painted nails digging into his back and shoulders...

He suddenly realised she had stopped talking and was looking at him, eyes steady and curious and yet with a flicker of concern in them. "Are you okay, Mr Luthor?"

The realisation that his fantasy has actually caused him to groan out aloud horrifies Lionel briefly before he managed to once again allow a small smile to slip onto his face and say, "Yes Chloe. Please continue."

She smiles briefly and ducks her head, unaccustomed to the lack of formal address between them though he has no doubt that she is the sort of girl that will undoubtedly take advantage of it soon enough. It could easily be seen in the slight flicker of interest in her eyes as she play a mental game of dot-to-dot in her mind, no doubt trying to figure out whether he had lied or not. Her mind, Lionel had quickly decided, was another part of her he liked. Of course the research he had done before actually meeting her had suggested she was intelligent, her test scores were excellent in school and there was a mature and intellectual air to her writing despite its occasionally bizarre subject matter. However, on reflection it wasn't until he had actually met her in person and then again until their little meetings for progress reports had become a regular occurrence that he felt he had truly been given the opportunity to appreciate her rather unique mind. It was, Lionel was utterly aware, something of a rarity to find a girl in this day and age who had as much beauty as she had brains but who was also more aware of the latter than she was of the former. This was a revelation he found oddly pleasing.

A brief shifting of her legs caused the thick fabric of skirt she was wearing to slip aside, suddenly displaying to eager eyes a delicious amount of smooth looking thigh and left Lionel wondering what he had done lately that allowed him the precious glimpse. His tongue darted out briefly to wet his lips even as a hurried hand appeared over the exposed region and tugged the skirt back into place. Looking up sharply to her face Lionel let the appreciation he had been feeling clearly show on her features and then watched as a breath seemed to explode out of her body and once again she ducked her face away from his. Undoubtedly if her hair had been longer the action would have caused it to fall over her features but as it was the healthy, deliciously innocent blush that washed over her skin was clear for him to see.

"I don't know why you're embarrassed," he said and decided, on the spur of the moment against disguising the admiration in his voice so that it took on a slight purring quality.

She flushed brighter but managed to meet his gaze in an ill-fated stubborn display of defiance as she said, "I don't know what you mean."

Lionel chuckled out a burst of sudden laughter in reply that only caused the girl to frown a little and the blush to be prolonged and to descend southwards if his eyes were not mistaken. "My dear, if there is one thing in life you should accustom yourself to it is that man will want to admire you. That is one thing that you should never be actually embarrassed about although I suppose that a certain degree of outward apparent embarrassment can be endearing in itself."

Chloe opened her mouth as if to say something in reply and then quickly closed it again as she became visibly more flustered. There was no doubt in Lionel's mind that underneath the light summer shirt she was wearing that her heart was beating rapidly and perhaps even a little irregularly and, he imagined, perhaps other parts of her were fluttering also. "I guess I'm just not used to it," she said quietly. The admission seemed to disturb her more than he would actually have expected it to and once again set him to thinking.

"You're talking about the Kent boy," he observed when the solution to his query dawned on him quite suddenly.

She nodded briefly and reached towards her bag, pulling it up onto her lap and beginning to push things inside it. "I think I'd better get going. I'll leave the papers here with you - I have copies at home anyway. If you need to discuss anything then call, other than that I'll see what else I can find out and arrange another meeting." She pushed herself to her feet, grabbing the bag and lifting it to her shoulder even as he spoke.


The girl stopped short, her back still too him though it only served to amplify Lionel's view of the finer, more delicate reactions her body underwent at hearing him speak. A vein of tension simply ran through her shoulders, drawing them back and causing her back to straighten even as her feet seemed to shift and settle as she clearly tried to force herself to relax.

Lionel stood, gliding to his feet and quietly walked around the coffee table that had been separating them until he was stood only inches behind her. Reaching out he laid a hand on her shoulder, letting his fingers dig into the taunt muscle and slowly move around in order to relax it. A smile filtered over his features as he thought he detected a small sigh erupting from her lips.

He placed a small amount of pressure on her shoulder and the girl turned towards him, her eyes pointing downwards firmly fixed on the floor. Lionel hooked a finger beneath her chin and drew her face up to meet his gaze. Fixing her with his eyes he made a great show of looking over features slowly, lingering occasionally on one particular one or another until the flush on her cheeks began to subside. Her tongue darted out momentarily to glaze her lower lip and taunt him in one simultaneous motion. It forced him to take a step forwards, to rid them of the barrier of air that had stood between them so that he could feel the brush of her breasts through his shirt as wonderfully warm masses and yet still tantalisingly far away.

She drew in a ragged breath as he let his thumb trace the line of her jaw, doing nothing more than succeeding in pushing them closer and finding himself unwilling to relinquish the new degree of contact when she threatened to steal to away by breathing out Lionel leaned forwards, letting himself tower over her; an action that served to increase what he was certain was a commanding presence over her.

"I..." she began and then stopped abruptly as he let his hands trace down the line of her neck, moving over her collarbone and pausing there so that his nail grazed the sensitised flesh. "What are you...? Mr Luthor..."

Choosing not to respond he leaned closer letting his head drift to one and close to her neck even as the hand that was hovering over her body skimmed downwards over the rise, the cotton of her shirt rough and warm against his fingers until he encountered the natural projection of a nipple. His lips curved into a smirk and he let himself draw in a deep, almost noisy in fact, breath in through his nose while vaguely aware that the action sent a tremble through her as much as he turned his hand and let his thumb trace the outline of the protrusion lingeringly. Chloe shifted against him and their cheeks brushed together.

"Have you never wondered about the effect you have, that you could have on a man?" he asked, the words coming out along with the slight unexpected growl.

A rush of breath moved across his flesh and she stepped away abruptly, stumbling backwards and yet still managing to stay on her feet though only just. The blonde girl's eyes were wide, and her lips parted ever so slightly as she stared at him in shock, breathing heavily almost as if she could not catch enough air. The look in her eyes however was far from the frightened one that might have been expected, instead he saw along with the flicker of surprise that he had known would be there and most importantly from his point of view, an element of indecision. He let a wolfish grin slip onto his face as he took a step towards her and then another even as she took a step away from him.

There was a click as the low heals of her shoes moved from the fine eastern rug and onto the hardwood floor and eventually her feet built up a steady rhythm as continued to back away from him as he advanced upon her. Lionel watched as her as she jumped on her back colliding with the wall and yelped unexpectedly. He couldn't refrain himself from looking at her, letting eyes roam over her as he saw the way in which the shiver of fear and excitement that had run through her body, that seemed trapped in it, caused a physical reaction. Her chest heaved, flushed once again. Her eyes were glazed slightly and her lips reddened and parted and just waiting for him to... to press his own against them and bite on the lower lip he saw pouting so often.

Lionel leaned forwards, putting one hand on the wall by her head and moving forwards until their foreheads were barely apart. He waited for her to move, to slide her body along the wall in the opening that he had left for her and she did move though the action showed more bravery and daring then he had been willing to credit her with. A small hand with painted nails came up to rest of his cheek then quickly moved, altering position and moving down so that fingers moved over his lips. Lionel opened his mouth, letting his tongue snake out to trail over the digits and then his other hand to come up and grip his wrist as he pressed his lips against the palm then suck in a line of flesh and bite into it slightly.

Chloe groaned and slumped back against the wall instead of the firm press she had in before and it suddenly seemed like an invitation for him to step forwards, dropping her hand to one side though it immediately rose again and went to his shoulder where it hesitated and then dipped around the back of his neck. No further encouragement was needed for him to move closer and press against her then bowed his head with the encouragement of her hand and sealed himself onto her lips, first softly, experimentally and then with increasingly bruising force. She squirmed against him, her body rubbing against him in all manner of delicious ways that left him almost unable to think. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, parting her lips easily in order to stroke the length of her tongue with his own and gripped her hips with both hands in order to press them both harder against the wall.

The blonde ripped her face away from his, gasping for air as he let one hand move around to cup her ass and lift her up to press against his erection that now jutted unmistakably through his pants. "Mr Luthor..." he heard her say, her voice somewhat choked, almost as if she were crying and took the opportunity to look at her face.

There was a tear slipping down one cheek. It glazed a path downwards, eventually trailing into the corner of her mouth where Chloe's tongue instinctively darted out and stole it away.

The sight of it both maddened him and sent a thrill of something that was entirely too much like sympathy through Lionel's mind. Shaking his head, realising what he had been about to do and surprising finding himself unsettled by that realisation Lionel stepped away from her abruptly, letting his hands fall to his sides and ensuring that he was far enough away that he would not be risking touching her as much as part of him still wanted to. Lionel found himself silently hating that he had any conscience left at all, hating the fact that it had chosen this particular moment to show itself and swearing to his self that it wouldn't happen again. Still, as he looked at her confused eyes again, still shinning with unshed tears the overwhelming emotion in him was the rather unexpected one of disgust with himself for the remaining desire he had to walk right back over there and resuming his previous occupation.

She half reached out with one hand which he found himself staring at before quickly turning away and saying, "Please leave Miss Sullivan."

A pause followed, a long one in which Lionel began to wonder whether she was actually going to listen to him and then there was the rushed click of heals on wood and soft sound of the door being closed carefully. Lionel let out a long breath then looked over his shoulder towards the door, one thought prominent in his mind; one day, only not just yet.


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